#I hear people talk about the ‘heart dog’ concept so much and it’s always felt a bit weird to me bc I don’t think I’ve ever had that

[kangals]

honestly I feel a little guilty for saying it but I do think out of all of the dogs so far, I’ve bonded with Kepler the fastest.

Boone was my first dog and unfortunately there were just a lot of factors in my life at the time (location, work, my mental health, the separation anxiety, etc) that made the first few months a struggle. he was the only dog I would say I had “puppy blues” with, ironically. obviously we worked past it, but I was always a little bummed that we never had that “instant connection” I’d always read about.

Stellina was by far the easier puppy, but she was also my first puppy ever and I had a lot of anxiety and insecurity about how to handle that. she’s also always been more independent (by herding dog standards, at least) and I’ve felt like I’ve had to put in more work than expected to build a relationship - and don’t get me wrong, I think it’s paid off wonderfully, but, again, it wasn’t like a super easy, effortless thing.

Kep is obviously still very new, and he’s had more annoying Puppy behaviors than stellina, but the relationship/bond part just feels like it’s come a lot more naturally. it very well might be that now I’m just a lot more experienced and comfortable bringing in new dogs - I’m not on edge like I was with Boone, or fretting over everything like with Stellina. He also seems more people-focused than Stellina, which probably also affects things. Idk, it’s still so early and I don’t want to set unreasonable expectations for myself, but I’m still optimistic and hopefully if things keep going on this trajectory, he’s going to be a very special dog one day.

[spiked-tea-writing]

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

[brockadoodles]

morning flights to toronto - b. boeser

AN: I couldn’t give you too many Christmas fics without a splaaasshhhhhhhh of angst, that simply would not be true to my brand. Sorry fic Brock for how often I break you? But it’s okay because it’s just a character and not real hehe. Hope you enjoy this one, it’s a concept I really love.

Word Count: 2613

Warnings: Angst but a good ending I promise. 

A month and a half ago, if someone would have asked you what you were doing for Christmas, you would have smiled at them and told them you’d be in Minnesota, likely cuddled up by the fireplace with snow heavily falling outside, your boyfriend asleep next to you and your dogs at your feet. You would have told them how excited you were to go back to the place you had started to realize felt like your second home, a place where you pictured yourself raising a family, transitioning to a stage in life that you were starting to feel ready for. A month and a half ago, you would have been happily in love, instead of mending a freshly shattered heart during your favorite time of the year. 

You replayed the conversation in your head, circling over and over his words that echoed through your mind, wondering how you could have misinterpreted the signs for so long. You thought you and Brock were on the same page, you had moved in together, and had even adopted a second dog together, a husky mix named Milo. But it turns out, you weren’t on the same page at all you were two souls who had found yourself so consumed by the love story you thought you had that you ended up not realizing that Brock was still on book 1, while you had steadily moved to book 2. 

“I just don’t know that I see all of that right now,” he sighed. His head was resting in his hands and his eyes were blurry from his own tears that had started to fall as he spoke to you, a conversation that to him was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He loved you, that was never the problem. But sometimes, love isn’t enough to build a life with someone, sometimes you need something more than a connection that the two of you had. 

“Right now? Or ever?” You whispered, your own tears falling freely as you desperately wished for him to say anything but ever. You could give him space, you could give him time, but you couldn’t rationalize the idea that you had loved him in a way that he didn’t love you. You couldn’t accept that it had been one-sided, not when you were starting to build a life together. Brock ran a hand through his hair, his voice was scratchy from the dryness settling into his throat, the lump choking back his own tears as his voice pulled your heart out and tossed it on the ground. 

“I think we need to not be together right now.” 

That phrase struck you in a way that nothing else had before. It settled into your chest and pitched a tent there, a tenant that wasn’t paying rent who you couldn’t evict. You weren’t even sure it felt entirely real until you were sitting with him and having a serious conversation about moving out, and taking Milo with you.

You tried not to think about the reality of it all, losing a three year relationship seemingly in a matter of moments. It didn’t matter how long you and Brock spoke in circles that night, it didn’t matter what shape you tried to construct to fix everything and hang onto him, he was holding a box and you were holding broken pieces that didn’t fit. 

You were doing your best at what you hoped looked like starting over. You were trying to navigate finding yourself again after being so tied into one person, but it was nearing Christmas and as you sat in your friend’s sublet apartment with boxed of things around you that you and Brock had bought together and Milo at your feet, you wanted to be anywhere other than Vancouver for the holiday.  

It had taken you four days to call your parents. Four days of replaying everything in your mind and wondering if maybe he’d call and say it was all a mistake. Four days of cycling through the same routine of going from the bed to the couch on autopilot, tears springing to your eyes each time something reminded you of him. Four days of wondering if he even was hurting at all, a question that you weren’t sure you even wanted the answer to yet tortured yourself with anyways. But it only took five minutes for your mom to convince you to come home. 

That’s how you ended up back in Toronto, tucked away in your childhood bedroom that had been converted to be a guest room looking out at the blanket of snow that was dumping into the city. You settled into a new routine, waking up each morning and watching Milo out back playing in the fresh snow. You tried not to think about if he was missing Coolie as much as you were. You also tried not to notice each time Brock’s photo popped up as a viewer on your story, knowing that losing Milo was probably killing him. 

Brock spent the weeks following the breakup leading up to Christmas poorly attempting to convince himself that what he did was right. He agonized over it, constantly telling himself that you were two people who had been lost in each other for so long, that you needed to find yourselves again. He tried to convince himself that the codependency was the problem, that you weren’t growing together anymore, hell, he even tried to convince himself that he was the one holding you back from your dreams, feeling guilty for just how willing he knew you would have been to follow him if he were ever traded. But the thing about telling yourself something until it's true is that it doesn’t work, and that was a lesson that Brock was painstakingly learning the hard way. He couldn’t even pretend it was any easier when he was back home in Minnesota, because at each turn his dad asked him things about you and it broke his heart each time he had to remind him that you weren’t. 

Brock watched your story of Milo in the snow for what felt like at least the tenth time that morning. He heard your laugh in the background and you calling for Milo softly. He knew you were back home in Toronto, probably at your parents house running through the traditions your family had at Christmas. He remembers when he got to experience all of those with you, the year before. As he heard your laugh one last time from your story, he thought back to that Christmas, his own heart twisting when he thought about how he was always the one who could make you laugh, stealing wine drunken kisses in the kitchen in the dim light.

It took Brock one hour after you left to know that it was a mistake breaking up with you, but it took him three weeks and a Christmas Eve without you to come to the understanding that maybe, just maybe he could fix it. 

You groaned softly as you blindly reached for the source of the buzzing on your bedside table. You had half of a mind to turn over and curl up in your blanket and ignore it, the last month your phone had been filled with messages and calls, each person offering what felt like faux sympathy at your broken heart. It got to a point where you dreaded seeing a notification, just wishing that your friends would give you space to heal on your own. They could only express so much sympathy for a situation that they didn’t understand. But it was Christmas Eve, and as you adjusted your eyes to your phone screen, you thought about how whoever was calling this late must have been important. As soon as you picked up the screen and saw the photo on it, him with Coolie curled up against his chest, you felt your eyes water and your mind twist. You wondered if you were hallucinating, but your finger slid across the accept button anyway and you held your breath as you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Are you there?” His voice came through when you didn’t say anything. It was soft and strained, and you felt your heart clench at hearing it after trying to forget about how he sounded over the last month. You sniffled slightly, wiping your eyes and sitting up in bed as you nodded as if he could somehow see your movements through the phone. Milo shifted slightly at your movements, and your heart broke even more. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s so late. Fuck, it’s like 2:30 there. I’m- god please don’t hang up.” He whispered. For a moment you felt like you could see him, probably pacing back and forth in his condo, hand running through his golden hair. You didn’t know why he was calling, and you didn’t know why you chose to answer, but you stayed on the line anyway, because what’s a broken heart at Christmas without the added pain of the one who shattered it waking you up at 2 am? 

“I’m here.” You said, your voice shaky. You leaned down to scratch Milo’s ear, your heart-tugging a big at knowing the breakup had not only affected you and Brock but the dogs as well. 

“Uhm, I..” Brock started, and you sighed softly into the phone.

“Brock, why are you calling?” There it was, the question he had expected. The question he had spent the last month preparing himself for, running through the lists and reasons in his mind constantly, and now that he was here, listening to you cry on the phone, he seemed to forget all of them. He felt like shit, not only for himself for ruining the best thing he ever had with you, but for calling you in the middle of the night on Christmas and making you cry all over again. 

“Come home. Or I’ll come there, I was wrong. I was so beyond wrong and to be honest, I’ve spent the entire last month knowing that. We were so happy, you know? I was thinking about rings and starting this whole life with you and I just lost myself, I started doubting us when it got serious because I was insecure, I was afraid you’d wake up one day and realize you don’t want me or this life. And I was wrong. I was wrong to hurt you, I was wrong to not talk to you about how I was feeling and I was wrong to break up with you when really all I want to do is marry you and have kids and, fuck, I just want all of that with you. So come home, let’s try again.” 

You curled into Milo, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you took in the words he spoke. You knew Brock, and you knew he was telling the truth but was he worth risking everything for again. Could you realistically come back from this knowing that you could be sent packing up and back to Toronto at any time should he change his mind. It was a gamble, and you were never one to place bets when it came to your heart. 

“I’ll come to Toronto, I’ll book a flight right now, just to see you, just to try to show you that I want to make this up to you. I love you, let me show you that again.” Brock begged. 

“You’ll come to Toronto?” You squeaked, biting your lip in the darkness. 

“I already looked at flights, I can be there by 10.” He said. You let out a sob at his words, glancing at the clock and counting down how many hours that would be until you would face him. 

“I can’t lose you again. If we do this, I can’t.. Brock, I really can’t.” You whispered. 

You opened the door to him standing there, a bag on his shoulders, and his hands nervously tucked in his pockets. You passed over his hair that was covered in a dark beanie, his eyes tired and lacking the brightness you once always saw in him, his beard longer than he usually kept it. Brock looked like a reflection of you, a broken person who was wandering around trying to piece back together their own heart. You stepped out onto the porch, not caring that it was freezing cold and the snow was heavy. You didn’t care that you were just in leggings and an old sweatshirt of Brock’s you didn’t want to admit that you had taken from him. You reached out for him, burying yourself into his chest and letting the tears fall as you held each other for the first time in over a month. His hand ran through your hair as he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He spoke, tilting your chin up so that his eyes could look into yours. 

“I missed you, and I love you, and please just-” Brock cut you off, pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. You felt yourself melt into him, the familiarity rushing back to you as he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. You knew that the kiss couldn’t fix everything, that him coming to Toronto and back to you didn’t change what happened. But what you did know was that you had someone standing there who wanted you and had made a mistake, and maybe it was the holiday spirit talking, but you wanted to give him a second chance, and it was the only Christmas present that mattered.  

You held onto him tightly, tears stinging your cheeks from the cold. You didn’t even notice your mom had opened the front door behind you, instead you pulled apart from Brock when Milo came running up to your feet, jumping all over Brock and whining at him. 

“Milo, hi buddy, hi.” He cooed at the dog, squatting down and letting Milo jump all over him. It made you cry even more, realizing how hard the last few weeks without him had been. Brock looked up at you, a deep frown settling on his features because he knew all of your pain had been his fault. He stood up, letting Milo continue to jump on his legs as he grabbed your hands.

“There’s someone else who came with me.” He smiled softly. You furrowed your brow as he tangled his fingers with yours and led you down to where the car he must have rented was parked. You saw Coolie’s face in the window and you squeezed Brock’s hand tighter, your smile growing with each step closer to him you got. Brock opened the door, letting Coolie jump out and run all around you and him and Milo. His excitement coming out in loud whines. You watched as he and Milo started running around your yard together, standing close to Brock.

“It felt wrong without him.” You commented softly. Brock wrapped an arm around you and kissed your temple tenderly, a move that sent waves of calm through your body. You didn’t know what it would take to fix everything, but you had him here and he wanted to try. Maybe it would be rocky, maybe it would be hard, but losing each other even for just a few weeks only cemented in how sure you were about a life with him. So, even if it all crumpled later on, he still took an early morning flight to Toronto, and you weren’t going to send him away. 

[kthstrawberryshortcake]

BTS Reactions: Their S/O is an Actual Witch

a/n: I pulled from a bunch of different witchcraft traditions for this one, just to give it a little variety. Once again my own life inspired a reaction post concept :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, send some in please! I'd love to hear your ideas!

Please note that the spelling of magic with an added k at the end is intentional.

You already know this was minimally edited. Proceed with caution. <3

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Jin | tarot:

The first few times Jin noticed a deck of cards laying around your apartment, shortly after your relationship had begun, he didn’t think much about it. He really had no reason to, honestly. It wasn’t until he overheard you quietly talking to yourself while setting out cards on the table in front of you one evening that he even paid much attention. “Spirit, is there any more information you can give me about this topic?” you muttered to yourself before shuffling your deck, taking the cards that flew out and laying them face up in front of you.

Considering this odd behavior, Jin observed as you peered intently at the cards, the wheels turning in your head practically visible. After a minute you felt his eyes on you, instinctively turning to look at him, taking note of his bewildered and vaguely concerned expression. That was when he finally got brave enough to ask what on earth you were doing. You smiled at him, patiently explaining that you read the cards in order to get guidance or insight on basically anything in life, and that they often answered questions that would otherwise go unexplained or without clarification.

He nodded slowly, sort of understanding what you were saying to him, though still kind of giving you a weird look. You could tell that just then, Jin thought the whole concept was weird, but at least he wasn’t opposed to it as far as you could tell. Not everyone was even willing to entertain such ideas.

After a few months, however, he regarded it very differently, having observed your use of tarot over that period of time. You felt a surge of warmth and satisfaction the first time Jin entered your apartment, immediately stating “Get your cards, I need advice.” Thus he grew to appreciate your craft.

Yoongi | wicca / paganism / related holidays:

You never actually had a moment where you told Yoongi about your practice of witchcraft, and you definitely didn't get into the religious aspects. During the early stages of your relationship, you just kind of did what you needed to do without regard for explaining your actions. He definitely noticed the small things you did, simple things like burning sage. He didn’t act in response to this little action, just became more observant and curious about your practices and beliefs. Over time he just absorbed the things you did, then did his own research to learn the purposes of your actions. Unbeknownst to you, he had learned, entirely on his own, a great deal about your witchcraft. You had no idea.

One day Yoongi noticed that you had marked Samhain on your calendar in big red letters, and he decided to ask you about it. You were shocked when he inquired about your plans for the holiday, having been fully unaware of his knowledge of its existence. You explained to him what you were planning to do, and he surprised you again by understanding what you meant without further explanation.

A month passed and October 31 was only a week away. You were having dinner with Yoongi and the rest of the members, who were also your close friends. Conversation shifted to Halloween parties and who was doing what. Several of the boys had decided to attend a particular party, buzzing with excitement as they discussed costume ideas. They then proceeded to invite you and Yoongi to join them.

“Sorry, we can’t go. We have plans.” Yoongi replied, earning a scoff from Jimin. “Plans for a nap, hyung? Come on, for just one night quit being such a grandpa.” He complained. You didn’t know how to explain that you weren’t just being antisocial this time. Thankfully Yoongi beat you to replying, “Y/N and I will be observing Samhain. We can’t join you.” He stated matter-of-factly, warming your heart with his support of your beliefs, but thoroughly confusing the other members.

“You’re doing what…?” Hobi inquired, baffled. Yoongi patiently explained. “Samhain, it’s the same day as Halloween. It’s a pagan holiday marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the cold part of the year. There are various rituals and activities to be done to observe the day. Y/N and I will not be able to come to the party because we will be busy with Samhain tasks. As a witch it is a very important occasion, the witch’s new year.” You were impressed at how well he was able to explain the situation to the others.

With that, the other members backed off about the party, but they were suddenly filled with curiosity about you being a witch and all the things that entailed. The bad news was that you were bombarded with questions. The good news was not only were your friends curious and supportive, but Yoongi was supporting you wholeheartedly without you even realizing. You felt very lucky to have him.

Hoseok | astrology:

Not long after meeting him initially, you began to get the feeling that Hoseok was a skeptic when it came to more esoteric subjects. As such, you didn’t even mention astrology to him until you’d been together for a couple of months already. You were sitting at a cafe, sipping your warm drinks and casually catching up after a busy few days at work.

You thought it best to use something he was familiar with as a segue into the topic, so you brought up the concept of the Chinese zodiac and the meaning of each animal’s years, as well as how that is often seen as an indicator of compatibility for relationships or even just friendships. Hobi fully understood your point, though he wasn’t sure where you were going with the conversation overall.

You then spoke about Western Astrology and a general overview of how it is used to determine compatibility as well. You thought it best to keep it simple so he didn’t get confused. You explained that to be able to get the information you were wondering about, you needed the time he was born. Hoseok shrugged, because like most people, he didn’t know his birth time off the top of his head. You suggested lightly that perhaps he could ask his mom, remaining nonchalant in your tone, but employing the puppy dog eyes you knew he could never resist.

Only minutes later, he was calling his mother to ask for the information. You were pleased that you’d managed to get a hold of his birth chart, as that was the basis of everything you wanted to know, and you made a mental note to do some deeper analysis when you got home. Your greatest curiosity was the synastry chart for your relationship, a type of compatibility chart that overlays one person’s chart on top of the other. You didn’t expect to actually get Hobi interested in astrology. His indifferent tolerance of the subject combined with his willingness to seek information you requested were more than enough for you.

Namjoon | kitchen magick:

Namjoon, your beloved genius sweetheart of a boyfriend, was also a walking accident waiting to happen. His clumsiness was quite honestly an issue. You worried about how hard he was on himself, too, though. He was a dedicated leader and ridiculously busy at all times  thanks to his love for his work. As a kitchen witch, you did what you could to use your talents to help him.

On a day when he seemed particularly scatterbrained, you made him peanut butter banana toast for breakfast, with peanut butter AND bananas for luck and bread for protection and prosperity. When Namjoon was stressed about writer’s block, you made him your special hot chocolate recipe, with vanilla extract to promote calm thoughts and a sprinkle of gingerbread crumbs for creativity. When he was burnt out from hectic schedules, you made him lemon tea with sugar, lemons being for rejuvenation and healing, while sugar was for happiness and sweetness in life.

One evening Joon remarked how your cooking always made him feel better, and you explained that it was because you used kitchen magick. He’d had no idea until that point, and while he was shocked he was also extremely intrigued, wanting to learn more about your craft. From then on, Namjoon was always sure to ask what the food was for before happily consuming it, in awe of its efficacy as well as your thoughtfulness in making it for him.

Jimin | candle magick:

You really didn’t know how or when you should explain to Jimin about your inclination toward candle magick, or that you were a witch in general. You didn’t just stick to your own personal practice, either. You had a little business selling spell and intention candles online as well. You decided, however, that until you could figure out how to explain it all, you’d just go about your regular routine and activities without saying anything about them to Jimin.

What you hadn’t counted on was Jimin’s inherently sweet, helpful, and supportive nature. The first time he’d appeared when you were working on your candles, you really had no idea what to say to him, so you just sort of smiled and kept doing your thing. Your heart warmed when, after a few minutes of observing you, Jimin jumped in and started helping with your task.

The two of you were sorting components to put into the batch of protection candles. Most of the ingredients went directly into the wax, but there were a few you liked to put on top, which was what you and Jimin were organizing. Each candle was topped with black salt and sea salt, plus a piece of Snowflake Obsidian and a tiny pentacle charm, finished off with a cinnamon stick and a bayleaf half submerged in wax, half sticking out.

Jimin was helpfully making a pile of the topping components for each candle so that they would be ready when you got to the stage of assembling the candles. It wasn’t until the little piles were finished, the tins for the candles to be poured in were neatly arranged in front of you, and you had begun putting the actual ingredients into the candle wax that Jimin even questioned why you were doing this. Promising to explain once finished, you poured each of the candles into the tins and added the topping items.

Leaving the candles to cool and harden, you explained it all to Jimin - about your being a witch, about your candle shop, and about the purpose of the batch he’d just helped you create. You braced yourself for a bad reaction, conditioned to expect that after years of being bombarded with others’ distaste for your craft. Shockingly, though, Jimin just smiled and asked if he could help you make your candles more often, admitting that he’d had a lot of fun today, and that he thought it would be a great way to spend more time with you.

Taehyung | crystals:

At first it was nothing but noticing all the crystal jewelry you often wore. When you and Tae were just getting to know each other, he’d always compliment you on your style or on specific pieces, like a quartz point necklace or obsidian beaded bracelet. You knew your choice in accessories could be seen as a tad unusual, so you were happy that he seemed to appreciate it.

But his casual interest in your jewelry was nothing compared to the first time he came to your apartment. He was in awe of the numerous crystals of every shape and size that were scattered around your space, the epitome of an “ooh shiny!” reaction. It amused you greatly, especially when he asked you about your “rock collection” and where they all came from. They truly were impossible to miss, with many of them in every room of your place.

You half expected him to shy away when you started explaining the reason for your crystal collection and the purposes of each piece, but surprisingly he remained just as interested, listening closely in fascination. He asked specifically about the big pieces first, which made sense considering they were the most noticeable. You had quite a few amethyst pieces, as well as some large clear quartz and an abundance of huge chunks of rose quartz (your favorite, so you kept a lot of it around).

Taehyung was so intrigued that you spent over an hour answering his many questions, explaining the origins and properties of your various stones. He was especially interested when you explained that this was why you wore the jewelry that you did. By the time the conversation ended for the night (you were touched but a little exhausted by his enthusiasm after a while) Tae expressed wanting to get some small crystal bracelets to go with the bracelets ones he wore regularly, especially obsidian or black tourmaline because they were both for protection AND matched the aesthetic of his usual stash. You filed that information away, making a note to surprise him with a few later. By the time you’d been together almost a year, he was deeply into the crystal interest just like you were, having learned all their properties and even begun gifting some to friends for various occasions.

Jungkook | general witchy activities:

It took weeks and weeks of noticing unusual details about your life for Jungkook to even question why you did what you did. At first it was small things, like picking up on smells of incense and sage on you and in your apartment (after all, Jungkook has a very sensitive nose). Then he picked up on of how you would occasionally mutter things to yourself under your breath with intense focus. These things alone were perhaps a tiny bit odd, but all in all not terribly strange.

It was when you started spending a lot more time together that your behaviors began to seem weird to him. Like the little table in the corner of your living room that was covered with a bunch of random objects . On one occasion he picked up a cookie from it and started to take a bite, only for you to snatch it out of his hand frantically, scolding him for taking it.

Another day, he took a drink of water from a glass mason jar that was sitting out, Once again, you took it from him as quickly as possible, saying “you can’t just drink that without knowing what you’re doing!” Other than being a waste of moon water, thankfully this incident was harmless, but it might not always be if care were not taken.

Jungkook was thoroughly confused, and honestly, a little bit freaked out. He actually went to Namjoon looking for advice, literally asking him “why is my girlfriend so weird?”, leaving Namjoon doing his best to hold back laughter. “Jungkookie, she’s a witch. The cookie you took was an offering on her altar, and you were drinking moon water from that jar. I suggest you ask more questions and be more aware, then everything won’t seem so strange.” Thankfully, Jungkook followed his hyung’s advice, and there were far fewer magical mishaps after that.

a/n: I adore feedback AND requests! Please feel free to send some my way. <3

[ssa-montgomery]

Table For Five

Word Count: 1405

Summary: When Bizzy organises a family dinner Addison invites Meredith and must confront the truth about her sexuality and finally tell her family the truth.

Characters: Meredith x Addison

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, coming out

A/N: So this was completed as part of the Meddison fic exchange on AO3 hosted by @bobbiejelly. This was written for chzkate over on AO3 and I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you all enjoy :D

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

"Addie? Are you here?" Meredith called out as walked into the on-call room.  It was dark in the room, the only source of light coming from the open door and she struggled to make out the other figure lying on a bed on the opposite side of the room. Her pager had gone off just as she walked out of the O.R., a 911 page from Addison. She had immediately rushed to the room Addison told her to meet her in. They had made a rule when they started dating that a 911 page meant when possible, they dropped everything to help the other. A situation where they needed to use this rule had rarely come up so when Meredith saw the page it felt like her heart had dropped into her stomach. She reached out blindly and flicked on the lights, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw Addison sit up from where she had been lying down on one of the beds. "Are you okay what's wrong? What's the emergency?"

"There isn't an emergency," Addison sighed with a shake of her head. Meredith could hear the stress and nerves in her voice as spoke, her voice wavering ever so slightly."Well, there is, just not like someone's dying emergency. I'm having a personal emergency. But somebody might end up dying and that might be me when they find out so you know, emergency."

Meredith could see almost every single one of Addison's anxious red flags. Mid rant, she pushed herself off the bed and started pacing, her words picking up speed along her steps. She was gesturing with her hands and Meredith was beginning to wonder if she was actually talking to her or simply ranting to herself. She stepped forward and caught her hands in hers pulling Addison towards her, running her thumb across the back of her hand. Addison pouted and stomped her foot against the ground after now having her pacing taken away from her. Meredith had to hold in her laughter at her toddler like actions but most of all she was just growing more concerned.

"What's going on Addison? Talk to me, sweetheart." Meredith said softly moving one of her hands to caress her cheek. She melted into the contact and pushed her cheek further into Meredith's touch.

Addison huffed out a deep breath and finally stood still. The contact from Meredith beginning to calm her nerves. She took Meredith's hand in hers and led her back towards the bed and sunk down onto it, leaning back against the wall with her legs pulled up close to her chest. Looking up at Meredith she gave her those puppy dog eyes she always did when she was about to ask her to do something she wouldn't like.

"My family are coming to town and they want us all to have dinner together." Addison started nervously. She bit lightly at the inside of her lip before continuing. "And I may have mentioned that I saw seeing someone and they asked me to invite them. But they don't know that my partner is - well you. Or that I'm-"

Addison's voice trailed off then and she looked at Meredith hopelessly. "Oh my God, what am I going to do?"

"Addie, don't worry," Meredith said reassuringly. She hated seeing Addison so worried and she wanted to do anything she could to cheer her up. She smirked before continuing. "It's not like you're showing up at a family dinner and announcing "This is my new girlfriend, who also happens to be the ex-mistress of the husband who left me and by the way, I think I might be a lesbian."

Addison let out a sarcastic scoff and rolled her eyes before playfully pushing at her shoulder. "Yeah, nice one Grey you're hilarious."

"But seriously Addison." She tilted her face so she was looking her in the eyes again and now her playful tone was gone. She would be lying didn't admit she was slightly nervous at the concept of meeting Addison's family. As far as previous relationships went she didn't have a great track record with meeting mothers. "Whatever happens I will be there with you. I'm not letting you do this alone."

"Thank you, Meredith." Addison leaned in and kissed her gently, brushing the hair out of her face. When she pulled away from the kiss she smiled at her. "So I'll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?"

"Perfect." She grinned quickly kissing her on the tip of her nose, making her scrunch up her face in the most adorable way.

~~~

Addison was nervous, she was willing to admit that. Things with her parents had never exactly been easy and it had been a long time now since she'd seen either of them. Not that any period of time would be long enough when it came to her family. There was no way of knowing how her family would react to the news and that was what scared her the most. They had just arrived with five minutes to spare and were now standing in the lobby waiting to be seated, Meredith by her side. It was a high-end fancy restaurant that would almost change you for simply looking at the menu per her mother's request. It wasn't the kind of place Meredith would visit all that often and she felt a little out of place. It was quiet thankfully, with only a handful of other groups seated around the large room. At least if Bizzy made a scene there wouldn't be many other people around to witness it.

They were escorted by a waitress towards the table where her family were already seated having arrived before them. She could feel Meredith close behind her, always at her shoulder. It brought her a certain level of comfort just knowing that Meredith was always with her, always by her side. Once they arrived at the table they all exchanged the usual stiff and almost awkward welcomes that Addison had grown to expect from her family. It seemed that all eyes were on Meredith.

"Who's your friend dear?" Bizzy smiled, that same waspy smile Addison gotten used to over the years. The one that was less warm and more borderline threatening. One she had become all too familiar with in her youth when Bizzy wanted her to admit to something she already knew.

"Mother this is-" Addison hesitated for a second as she looked over her shoulder at Meredith and then took a deep breath. If this was happening this was happening now, consequences be damned. She wanted everything out in the open, she owed Meredith and their relationship the full honesty it deserved. "This is Meredith Grey, she's my girlfriend. I'm attracted to women."

There was a beat of silence as everyone looked around the table at each other. Addison twisted her hands together nervously, waiting for a reaction, any reaction at all. She could feel the fear settling in the pit of her stomach. Archer then raised his glass of beer and tipped it towards Addison.

"Smart choice sis, never did like that Derek guy all that much anyway." He then downed the last of his drink and called over the waiter to order another. God Addison really could use a drink right about now. There had always been a part of her that thought Archer suspected she liked women when they were growing up but he never said anything and neither did she.

Surprising Bizzy simply nodded, giving Meredith a slight smile and gestured to the empty seats opposite her. As Addison made her way past her she gently grabbed her arm and pulled her down to whisper in her ear. "Next time Addison dear, a warning would be nice."

The Captain just gave a sharp jerk of his head in their direction as his form of acceptance. "Like mother like daughter." He mumbled loud enough for only Bizzy to hear. He then felt a sharp pain in his shin as Bizzy dug her high heel into his leg under the table.

"Please let me know when you're ready to order." A waitress smiled approaching the table with their menus. She laid them down in front of everyone and then placed down a drinks menu. "Can I get anyone any more drinks?"

"Oh God yes please." Addison laughed with relief. "Can I get a Martini and two tequilas please?"

Taglist: @marauder-level-chaos

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hale and Dunbar | Liam Dunbar

Summary: You, a Hale, were born a werewolf, whereas Liam was bitten. You help the new pack member through his transition, becoming more than just his guide.

Warnings: Death

“Scott bit someone?” The information that your brother had just told you was a surprise. He didn’t seem like the type of alpha that would want to create more werewolves, after all, he himself knew how hard it was for the bitten to adapt to their new and changed lives.

“A kid.” Derek said bluntly, closing his car door as he walked towards Scott’s front door, with you hot on heels. “He’s strong, I’ll give him that.”

“And what does any of this have to do with me?” You crossed your arms, glaring at your sibling for an answer, pausing your footsteps momentarily.

“He’s your age (Y/N), and he could use a friend.” You groaned at that, throwing your head back.

“He has Scott, isn't that enough?” Now it was Derek’s turn to glare at you, and he lightly shoved you closer to the door and then knocked.

It was only a minute or two until Scott opened the door, and from his expression, he obviously hadn’t been expecting either one of you.

“Derek, (Y/N), what are you two doing here?” He invited you in, and you squeezed past him as you remembered that the last time that you were in here you were fighting the Oni. Just the thought made you shiver.

“This one needed time out of the apartment.” Your brother earnt himself a growl and a flash of golden eyes on your part as you wandered into the living room, where you saw Stiles talking to a boy you didn’t recognise.

Must be the new beta, you thought.

“Stiles.” You greeted him with a nod, and that was more than enough to make him jump.

“Jesus.” He clutched his chest, not having expected your presence in the moment. “You’re worse than your brother I swear.”

“I mean, I can’t help that your concept of your surroundings is slower than a werewolf’s. But Scott could, but as I’ve been told, he’s already nipped someone.” Your eyes diverted to Liam, he had to be the victim. You could smell the wolf in him, it was distinct. New.

At your gaze, the boy squirmed. You were a stranger, yet you knew all about his forced invitation into the pack, and more for all that he was aware. But he knew that you weren’t a danger, he could hear your friendly - ish greeting with Scott.

“And now, there’s another target on the deadpool. Fun.” You bit your lip, sitting right next to Liam, who watched you attentively. He tensed his shoulders before speaking to you, trying to come across as confident and cocky as he had initially done with the boys.

“You know about the deadpool?” He knew that Scott wanted to keep it on the down low, especially since the benefactor had yet to be found. At his query, you smirked. So new and naive to the workings of the pack and its members.

“I know a little bit about everything.” You spoke, noticing your brother watching you from the doorframe. You sent him a glare, and complied with the reason as to why you had been dragged here in the first place. “Except you. You’re fresh meat that has just hit the agenda.”

There was no way that Liam could keep up his outgoing persona now. Since he was the centre as to why such an attractive girl would come to a house in the middle of the night. You wanted information.

“I - I play lacrosse.” He fumbled over his words making Stiles hide his sniggers behind his hand.

“Let’s skip the basics Dunbar. Who are you really?”

-

They were on your tail, quite literally in your evolved form. The hunters had returned, and were trying to take down all of the packs in Beacon Hills. Satomi’s was near on extinguished, there were a few in hiding, seeing as they weren’t trained to defend their selves.   

But you were, and yet you were still running in the shape of a black dog, avoiding the arrows and bullets that came your way, or at least the ones that hadn’t hit you yet.

The whole town had turned their backs on you, partially because of the Anuke Ite’s influence, but the rest was down the Gerard and Monroe.

There had to be some way that you could lose these stragglers. For sure, you were faster than the lot of them, but you were so incredibly tired from the running and fighting. It was still light out, and the school was in your sights.

Liam would be there, as well as Mason and Corey. You could get help, cry out for it or just damn straight find it on your own accord. If you howled however, it would signal your location to not only the men that were trailing you, but every hunter in training inside of the school. And to say the least, that would not be good.

But you rampaged through the doors anyway, the men would not be permitted to enter with firearms. And if they did, then the sheriff would be called and that would double up the protection upon you.

Liam could sense your presence and quickly ran out of Mrs Finch’s class. He didn’t need to care about what people thought, they had quite clearly already formed their opinions.

He could smell your blood, and so he ran into the girls locker room, realising that was where you had decided to habitat.

The boys locker room would have been a rookie mistake, considering Gabe and Nolan performing as though they were Monroe’s bus boys.

“(Y/N).” He belted as he saw you in your evolved form, trying to lick at your wounds. “Shit.” He breathed, removing his jacket and holding it around you so that you could shift back without being exposed to the cold air. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, not in the slightest. Even as you transformed back, there was still so much blood, it coming out in black clots. You weren’t healing.

“Li.” You smiled, reaching up and stroking his face that had grown more defined over the time that you had known him. “I knew you’d find me.”

“Always.” He promised, water pooling in his blue eyes as he grabbed his phone and dialled Scott, but the tone just kept ringing, ending in no reply.

There was no time, he reached towards the wounds over your body, unsure of where to start. There were so many holes imbedded and bleeding through your skin, too many.

“I don’t know what to do.” He spoke, he couldn’t ask the school for help, they wouldn’t let you die in peace, they’d ensure you left the world in pain.

“Just stay with me.” With that he pulled you closer. “At least I get to see the rest of my family, it’s been years.”

“You shouldn’t have to die like this, I should do something.” If you left like this, he’d never rinse off the guilt, he’d lose control as he would have lost his anchor.

“If this I had a choice in how my death played out, I wouldn’t change it.” Rubbing your numbing lips together, you grabbed Liam’s hand, frowning as he attempted to remove your pain.

“I can’t take your pain.”

“It’s because it doesn’t hurt.” You sighed, now understanding how Allison had felt when her time was passing. “I’m just happy that I got to know you, that I got to love you. I’ve seen you realise that you aren’t a monster, you’re a werewolf, and a damned good one.”

“Don’t go.” Tears were falling upon your face from his own. “I need you, stay, please.”

“It’s not up to me, just don’t join me anytime soon Dunbar otherwise I’ll have to kick your ass.” A few spluttered coughs left your mouth, along with portions of blood.

“But-“ he has began to speak, but noticed how your eyes were fluttering and your heart was slowing.

If these were his last words, he was sure as hell he wouldn’t make a one sided argument out of them.

[typically-untypical]

Breaking the Rules

AU: Coffee Shop

TW: Mild Swearing

WC: 1049

Date: 8/1/2021

Remy had certain rules when it came to customer service work. One, take shit from no one; two, don’t let a Karen make anyone cry, and three, arguably the most important rule, don’t fall for a pretty face. He had gotten burned too many times by a flirty smile with a deep wallet. Work was not the place to meet your soulmate, not that he believed in that mushy concept anyway. Soulmates were for people who didn’t want to face the reality that relationships took work, and Remy was willing to put that work in, as long as he didn’t have to do it alone. He was looking for an equal partnership, someone to be his strength when he needed it, and someone he could support in turn.

He wasn’t going to be fooled by a 6’’1’ nerd, with a sleepy smile and stylish glasses, even if said nerd had the softest sleepy smile when he first came in during the mornings. Remy set down the coffee he had just finished making, getting a soft hum from the man behind him.

“You do know if you continue to get violent with the coffee it will eventually betray you, right?” Janus, his coworker, had a soft smooth voice that always sounded like he knew something he shouldn’t. Remy liked Janus, he really did, but the slithering snake was a bit of an asshole when you were trying to keep something a secret.

“Coffee would never betray me, unlike you.”

“You wish I were your bitch.”

“Fuck off Jay,” He muttered once the customer was out of earshot.

“I certainly don’t know what you are talking about, it’s not as if you have become more irritable in the past two weeks, specifically on Tuesdays and Thursdays after a certain nerd comes to pick up his coffee before class. I also haven’t noticed that you don’t seem to relax until he comes back in the afternoon. Though, then you start muttering about rule three. What is rule three?”

Remy glared at him before bumping into his hip. “Rude.”

“Gasp, assault. I have been assaulted. Workplace injury.” He pretended to crumple, feigning pain.

“Oh please, we both know my bitches can’t get hurt.”

“Now look who is being rude.”

The two were joking around and didn’t notice the customer at the register until they cleared their throat. “Excuse me.”

Remy looked over to the register, a light blush crossing his face as he saw Logan, the nerd they were discussing earlier, was standing there waiting.

“Sorry about that, just had to punish one of the employees.”

“I am assuming that you mean that as a joke, as physical punishment isn’t something a boss is allowed to do.”

“Yeah, mostly. Jay and I are close, so it’s all pretty much just friendly banter.”

“Pretty much?”

“Well, he can still be annoying as hell.”

“I can hear you!”

“You were meant to, but yeah, he takes care of me and I take care of him.”

“So are you two…” Logan trailed off, looking between the two of them.

Oh shit, he didn’t even know if Logan was gay. Was he gay? Or did this bother him? He set off Remy's gaydar, but also the slight fear that Logan might not be sent his protective shield up.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, not in the slightest. I guess I was just hoping to…” He pulled out a set of flashcards, shuffling through them before saying “shoot my shot?”

Remy’s defenses were immediately shot down as he looked at this absolute puppy dog of a nerd.

“No, we aren’t dating. Just friends.”

“Oh” Logan’s face lit up and he smiled. “Well, maybe you could explain more about your dynamic? Over dinner perhaps?” Logan smiled, and Remy felt his heart jump to his throat. His body felt like it was going to melt. Each time this man had smiled in the past it had been blinding, but this was different, like the warm sun shining on him on a cold day.

“Sure babes,” Remy said without even thinking, wincing immediately afterward. Rule 3, he needed to be more careful. “We could hang out, like, as friends.”

His tie adjusting stopped and Remy watched as a look of hurt passed over his face, but then was replaced with understanding. “Wonderful, I will leave my number with you.” He fished a notepad out of his bag, tearing a piece of paper out and writing down his number. “You can contact me at your convenience.”

“Right, thanks, did you want to order?”

“Sure, my usual, if that’s possible.”

“One coffee, two sugars, and our specialty sandwich.”

“Yes, thank you.” Logan paid and Remy went to work getting everything prepared. Janus was looking up at him, eyebrow raised.

“Friends, really?”

“Rule 3.”

“What even is that?”

“Don’t fall for a pretty face.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s not his face you are falling for. That ass maybe, or quite possibly the size of his…. Intellect.”

Remy shot him a glare, but his friend brushed it off.

Logan was passionate about what he was studying, and he was intelligent but not condescending. Remy was smitten and he hated himself for it. It wasn’t just Logan’s pretty face, it was the way he held himself, the way he talked, the small slight smiles.

Janus grabbed Logan’s sandwich, shoving it towards Remy. “Look, I know you’ve been hurt, and I promise I’ll help you hide the body if it happens again, but I think this time it might be worth it.”

It was rare to get this much honesty from his coworker without an infuriating amount of sarcasm. “Alright, alright, you don’t have to harp.”

“Apparently someone has to keep you in line,” He patted Remy’s shoulder before quickly getting Logan’s coffee, handing it off as well. “Go get him.”

If they weren’t friends, Remy thought he might have punched Janus in the face. Instead, he turned to the counter. “Logan, I got your coffee and sandwich.”

“Thank you,”

“And I’ll send you a text after work.”

He smiled again, and Remy would never admit that he might learn to live under the warmth of that smile. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” He took his food, heading off to a table to study.

Remy would normally be nervous going into something like this, but after he had actually made a decision about it, he felt a weird bit of excitement and giddiness.

Maybe it was time for him to break rule 3.

@tsshipmonth2020

[thestalkerbunny]

What are your favorite twilight zone episodes?

Oh god you get me; you aBSOLUTELY get me. So fun fact about me, I LOVE the Twilight Zone. I doubt any series of horror has enthralled me in such a captivating way as the ‘Zone’ did as a kid. The Horror in that show is just so real and authentic because of the time period. So I”m gonna do you what I think is the personal best episodes for me-pictures included!

So let’s get to Stalky’s Top Ten ZONE EPISODES

10: The Masks

A dying wealthy man is down to his last few hours of life on the eve of Mardi Gras and his spoiled selfish heirs are there to watch him die and get what is theirs-with the catch, until midnight they must wear hideous masks that compliment their awful personalities. This one always stuck with me because The sheer anticipation of what will happen in the end and the fact that all their heirs are just so very unlikable, it’s very much like the movie ‘Knives Out’ but much more tame-nobody gets murdered, but just the ending thrilled me the first time I saw it

9: The Monsters are Due on Maple Street

A Street full of neighbors experiencing a black out turn on each other in violent mob mentality of the blame game. This is a CLASSIC, This is true pure and realistic horror because it really asks the question ‘how well do you know your neighbors and do you trust them’ it also was very much a product of it’s time in the era of the Cold War were even in your own neighborhood, even your neighbors could be a ‘communist’ in disguise. The Ending was a real rug jerker for me. For those of you who haven’t seen the ending-you gotta go watch it. Just less than 15 minutes of your time. Iconic. They did a remake of it once but it didn’t HIT the way it did the first time.

8. Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?

A Bus making a stop realizes that there is one extra person among them is not accounted for and they may not be of this world. Now THIS is the originally ‘Among Us’ There is one more person on the manifesto and we gotta find out who the imposter is. This one just felt so witty and just the energy of the Moustache guy really stole the show for me as well as the diner chef. The twist was GREAT and I still catch myself thinking about it sometimes when I’m in a ‘ZONE’ mood

7. The Midnight Sun

The Earth is slowly falling into the Sun. We watch as a woman falls apart as the whole world around her burns. Now being a southern girl with a house whose ac loves to just BITE it in the DEAD of summer I FEEL this episode with all my soul. If you’re ever the littlest bit chilly, you watch ‘Midnight Sun’ and you can FEEL yourself melting along with this poor suffering woman in this apartment complex. Just watching these poor people just lose their minds to the heat is so real because just slight temperature changes just make people irrational and insane.

6. I sing the Body Electric

Children get a New Grandma! A ROBOT GRANDMA! This one is such a heart warming episode and concept, like if you don’t like scary stuff but still wanna know the Twilight Zone, you watch ‘Body Electric’ It’s very much a ‘Mary Poppins’ sort of story and it’s sweet and the way it explains what happens to the Grandmother once her job is done should be applied to all robots concepts of the afterlife. Plus the store the family goes to in order to make their custom grandma is kinda spooky. Like build a bear. But for Grandmas.

5. Number 12 looks JUST like you

In  Future, You can be anyone you want to be, because the cosmetic surgery is Mandatory. One girl protests it. This one breaks my heart because for some people, this is reality, they’re pressured into changing even though they’re happy with their looks but society refuses to accept them. You know how in cartoons there’s the trope of the popular girls being surrounded by identical clones. That. It’s that. It’s often confused with another iconic episode that talks about how beauty is about perspective and what people will go thru to try and be the standard for society.

4. Night of the Living Doll

A little girl’s doll decides to teach an abusive Step Father a lesson. TALKY TINA WALKED. SHE FUCKING STRUTTED THAT RUNWAY MAMA. SO CHUCKY/TIFFANY/BRAHMNS/ANNABELLE COULD FUCKING RUN. She was the ORGINAL Doll that is up to NO GOOD. We are ROOTING for Talky Tina. She is a QUEEN. WE STAN A LEGEND. The Dad is such a douche bag I do not feel bad at ALL for what happens to him.

3. One for the Angels

A sidewalk sales man stalls for time to save another’s life from Death himself. This one is a sweet one, the salesman-Marky-is just so genuine and the ‘bumbling type that’s loved by kids’ and he’s a clever character, if you like the cheating of death story-you’ll love ‘One for the Angels’. And even if it ends a bit sad-it’s a happy kind of sad, a sad where you know that this is the good happy ending even if it’s a little bitter.

2. The Hunt.

An Old man and his Hound explore the trail to the afterlife. This one speaks to my backwoods southern heart-because there are dudes who are just that passionate and affectionate about their hounds. It also does the whole thing where the path to hell looks just as pretty as the one that lead to heaven. It feels like it’d be the kind of bluegrass song I’d hear about a guy narrowly missing ending up in Hell because he doesn’t want to be apart from his beloved dog.

HONORABLE MENTION: The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtle

A Young man dies....and comes back to life? Again another southern themed episode that speaks to me, mainly because Wake Culture is a thing where you have to sit up with the body to make sure they’re REALLY dead. Just the whole set up to the ending really just fools you. It’s the kind of story I feel like I would set up. I think I HAVE set up that kind of story with ‘The Diver Boy’ Comic

1. The Obsolete Man

Nothing I can say can compare to the perfection and the dark statement that The Obsolete Man makes. Nothing hits home that hard in that way. A horrible future where people get to decide what is obsolete and once it’s obsolete, it must go away forever.

[xenolithium]

Surprise Visits (France & America)

I remember when he was just a little boy. He had large blue eyes and that bright, innocent smile he'd always wear upon his lips whenever I'd come see him. Those moments were fleeting and the time I spent with that boy was short.

"Alfred, papa made you something to eat!"

Whenever I saw him, I remember being so happy. Even if it was a struggle just to see his face again the next time around. It was something I'd look forward to. Kissing his forehead, cuddling next to him in bed, feeding him the food I made so lovingly.

It was strange. Up until that point I'd never felt such a strong urge to protect something. To become the pillar that would hold him up in his darkest moments. But I accepted the feeling wholeheartedly and without question. This little boy was my little boy.

The American Revolution was when I truly got to know him. Arthur may have stolen away his childhood, but I had his teen years. The moments when he was the most vulnerable. The moments when he'd break down in tears, unsure of what to do. But it was okay, I was there. I'd always be there.

"I love you, mon petit chou."

---

Francis sighed as he pushed his luggage next to the front door and out of the way, pocketing his spare key. He then took off his shoes before taking a few steps into his son's home, leaving the entrance behind him. The place was quiet, eerily quiet considering who this was he was visiting. The only sounds he could hear was the soft pitter-patter of paws as Alfred's cat came to greet him. Her white fluffy tail standing up at attention as she meowed at him as if saying hello or perhaps asking him to leave. She did have a bit of an attitude problem afterall, as most cats do.

Francis kneeled down to give her a stroke, "I'm happy to see you too~" he greeted, letting her bunt against the back of his hand. A small smile played at his lips while she inspected him in mild interest and eventually took her leave. Back to her outpost atop the fridge to stare at him behind beady blue eyes.

Francis gazed upon her 'elegance' for a moment, before slowly rising to his feet again and continuing his journey through the house. First things first, he'd check to see if Alfred was even home. But judging by the fact Marshmallow was left unattended and not in someone's care, he was sure that the American hadn't gone too far.

"Alfred, papa came by to visit you~" was the only warning he gave as he so brazenly entered his son's room. It's not like he'd care if he saw anything he shouldn't. Francis wasn't exactly one who held high regard towards concepts such as shame. Plus, if anything was happening, he'd just walk back out and talk through the door instead. Simple as that~ (He had a feeling Arthur wouldn't be too keen on that logic.)

Francis blinked when he noticed Alfred laying in bed. Despite it being the middle of the day, there he was, hugging an oversized stuffed bear like he was a small child again. It made the Frenchman's heart light up as he stepped towards the bed to sit down next to his very much full grown son and run a hand through his messy hair. He frowned at the texture; greasy, split ends, dandruff. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, this just wouldn't do. It was a good thing he decided to come over.

"Alfred, did you work late last night?" He asked, his voice soft, as the American slowly blinked himself into consciousness. Staring out through windows surrounding his bed for a moment, towards the swaying palm trees and the rolling shores. Before finally turning his head to look up at Francis.

"Papa?"

"Yeah, it's me," Francis chuckled, letting his thumb briefly rub against Alfred's cheek in a comforting gesture.

"Did you bring me any food?" Alfred asked groggily and Francis rolled his eyes.

"No, I was going to ask you what you wanted though."

"Crepes~" he cheered as he sat up, suddenly a lot more energetic than he was before. "With lots of whip cream and strawberries~"

"Wait, are we having a meal here or desert?" Francis asked, his eyebrows bunched together in concern.

"Chocolate sauce?"

"That doesn't make it any healthier." Francis sighed, shaking his head as Alfred laughed. "How about I choose then?"

"What? You can't just walk in here, ask what I want and not let me choose. I will drink the chocolate sauce just to spite you."

"Alfred please...let's not drink the chocolate sauce. That is disgusting."

"To you maybe."

"No, it's disgusting and you know it!" Francis huffed, surprised when Alfred simply stared at him for a moment in silence. Seemingly letting him win the argument for a short period of time.

"Can I at least have the strawberries and whipped cream?" He begged, making those puppy dog eyes that always made Francis weak to his every will and whim.

"Fine you can have the strawberries."

"and whipped cream?"

"Strawberries."

Alfred squinted at him for a long moment, that angelic expression from earlier falling off his face completely as he realized what Francis was doing here. Opening his mouth to refute it again when Francis swiftly changed the subject.

"Alfred, when's the last time you took a shower?"

Alfred closed his mouth again, looking slightly surprised at such a sudden topic change. But also slightly embarrassed that he was caught not taking care of himself properly to Francis of all people. The one who would gripe the most about it.

"Yesterday."

Francis took hold of one of the strands of his hair, whilst Alfred tried to weakly swat him away. "This does not look like yesterday. There's so much grease, I could fry an egg with it," he pointed out, finally pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. "On top of that, you haven't been using the shampoo I recommended, have you?" Alfred's guilty look said it all. "You wouldn't have so much dandruff and split ends if you used the shampoo I told you to use. And what's this, acne? I thought I gave you a step by step guide on my skin care routine and -"

"Okay, okay! I got it!" Alfred cut off his father, who was currently going into a nagging tangent about how he should be taking care of himself. This time it was Francis' turn to squint suspiciously at Al. "I'll take a shower right now to prove it."

"Good." Francis finally began to smile again, leaning forward to kiss Alfred's forehead. "I'll be in the kitchen." He slowly rose from the bed to walk towards the bedroom door. Only pausing to turn back and close the door behind him, noticing Al curling up under the covers with his phone in hand, rather than getting up like he said he would. He raised a brow, "Alfred..." He called in warning.

"One sec, I gotta wake my legs up first."

"Now, Alfred." The American let out a huff and rolled to the floor, covers and all. Only to slowly crawl his way to his bathroom with a groan of protest. "And you tell me I'm over dramatic." Francis shook his head as he finally closed the door with a click, walking back down the hallway to get them both something to eat.

---

"Do you feel better?" Francis asked as Alfred leaned back, stretching his arms up over his head after finishing his fifth plate of food. He definitely looked relaxed and at ease, but most of all, clean.

"Yeah, your food is the best~" he complimented, grinning from ear to ear. "Thanks papa!"

Francis leaned against his hand, brushing a few loose strands from his own face. "You need to take better care of yourself. What would you do if I didn't check on you all the time? But there's no need to think of that since I'm here~"

Alfred pouted, "now you're just being full of yourself. Besides, I wouldn't want to make your job pointless if I'm doing everything myself."

"How noble of you," Francis laughed, but the sound was genuine and heartfelt. He glanced towards Marshmallow who was gazing at them from the other side of the table. "Have you been overworking yourself again?"

"Nah, just was having a bit of a hard time." Francis turned his gaze back towards Alfred as he fiddled with his empty glass nervously.

"You know you can talk to me about it, mon petit chou."

"I know, it's just embarassing."

Francis stared at Alfred for a long moment trying to think of what it was that he was keeping from him. Something he had mentioned before perhaps? "Oh, is it..." He trailed off as Alfred seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. "Oh, Alfred." He reached across the table to place his hands on his son's cheeks. "You're perfect in every way and there's absolutely nothing you need to change." He watched as Alfred began to tear up. "It's fine, you don't have to say anything. I'm here."

Alfred nodded. "Thanks..." He swallowed thickly. "Thanks for coming."

[sarya-lavellan]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 3807

Status: WIP (Chapter 13)

Read on AO3

It was late when she arrived two days after the memorial back in Wycome. The air had grown chillier though still quite comfortable for the time of year. The leaves had just started taking on the hues of red and orange, unlike in Ferelden where they had all just tumbled to the ground, buried instantly in a foot of snow. She picked her way around the docks, replaying memories of Thom until she reached her brother's house. She paused then rapped lightly, waiting to see her son again. The door flung open and Han greeted her with a welcoming grin.

“Back already?” He waved her inside.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to leave you with Ameridan for too long.”

Han sat down in his rocking chair, using his magic to crochet a baby blanket while he whittled away at a tiny bow. His house was cozy and tastefully messy. Filled with all sorts of plants and handmade items tossed about but clean.

“What is all this? Working on some gifts for El?”

“You really are daft sometimes you know that?” Han smirked. “Ameridan is sleeping soundly by the way. He is quite the eater.”

“You know you don’t need to make anything for me. I could just buy it.”

“Or you can accept fine craftsmanship from family as a gift. I want da’fen to always have a piece of his family with him.”

“Already given him nicknames?” She undid her foot wraps and went to him, resting her elbow on the top of the chair.

“What else would you expect from me? He’s the son of the fiercest wolf I know. And I’m not speaking of The Dread Dog.”

She smirked. “I’m not sure about that. Wolves are clever and marvelous beasts.”

She felt like none of those things.

“Need I remind you of your accomplishments?”

“What? How I stumbled, quite literally, into a leadership role. Then was guided by one amazing Josephine Montilyet who should have really been credited for all the Inquisition's best moves and allies?”

“Well I was going to say how you made The Dread Wolf take his place behind you. You achieved that through words. I’d say that’s pretty clever.”

Clever. She laughed inwardly. It wasn’t clever. It was stupid and desperate and a maybe even a little possessive if she wanted to be honest. She took a deep breath and let the thoughts go, they would lead her somewhere she didn’t want to go.

Her brother was too kind. She would allow his compliments to sit with her without disagreement.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wanted to cry. Whether it was the fact that her family had integrated Ameridan into their fold or the fact that her beloved friend had passed or maybe even because one moment she and Solas were attempting to be friends and the next he had rejected her son and recently said that he missed her. She didn’t know. Probably a combination of all of the above. But she threw her arms around Han’s neck and let herself feel. He set the mini bow down in his lap and hugged her back, real tight.

“You didn’t think you were going to do this alone did you?”

She let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “I was prepared to.”

Han tisked. “Not on the watch of Clan Lavellan. You should know better by now.”

She hugged him tighter.

“I can’t thank you enough.” She snuggled and pulled away.

“Did you see Solas?” Han asked.

She swallowed. Sat down in the chair across from him. She was hoping nobody would ask. Especially Han. “I did. I feel—I don’t know–“ She thought about lying. Wanted to lock all her truths away and lock them up tight. Instead she said, “I feel ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes. Not for reasons you would think. I’m not ashamed of choosing Ameridan. But ashamed I had forced Solas’ hand. I am ashamed for not talking to him sooner. For not asking him what he needed or wanted. Before everything that has happened. I am also ashamed that I miss him dearly.”

It was a great weight off her just to say that. Enough to admit it aloud.

He hummed, nodding. He stroked his chin in thought then said, “Why would you be ashamed to miss someone you love?”

“Because I want him back. I want him here.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sarya rocked back and forth watching the blanket come together and then said, “do you remember when we were little and we spent all evening catching fireflies in a jar?”

Han chuckled. “And we brought them inside so we could see them light up our dark room. But you felt bad for them being in a jar so you set them free. I remember Ellana lecturing you until she was blue in the face.”

“Yeah. I remember being so scared mamae would be mad. Especially when some of them had died. But she wasn’t. She explained why nature, no matter how much we love and admire it, is better left alone and admired from afar. Why we should only take what we need and allow it to flourish without our intervention. Better to let what is already free remain that way.”

“Mamae is wise like that,” Han said.

“For some reason that keeps sticking with me.”

“Because you think wanting Solas means you’re keeping him from being free.”

Sarya crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not–well–I–how did you…”

He threw her a withering look. “You do love to obsess over everything. I happen to know which subject is your current and most frequent.”

She sighed. “I’m tired of it too.”

“I’m not tired of hearing about it or him for that matter. You love him but you’re not sure how it’s supposed to look. I’m more tired for you. Must be exhausting to live in your head.”

“I just feel like it’s better to set him completely free. There’s just too much of our muddied past that gets in the way.”

“When I carve my weapons, in each of them you could find error. Do you think that they are unusable then?”

“Well yeah if the error is something major.”

“Very well. And if that weapon is needed to help the clan would I give them the faulty weapon or would I start anew?”

“Start over of course. But you can’t do that with people!” Sarya cried. “What you carve from your wood has no memory of your mistake.”

Han continued, “But the people receiving the weapon do. Do you think I have never made a weapon that hasn’t been faulty in the hands of a hunter? Papae’s scar on his left forearm is from his staff blade that wasn’t secured properly and fell off while he was casting. It was my fault. He even has the scar to remember that it was me. He could’ve removed me from studying under Master Tawen and I’d never be where I am today unless I had learned from that heart wrenching mistake.”

“And if you’d kept making the mistake, leaving Papae with multiple scars?”

“I would forge a new path for myself, one in which I’m not hurting him. I wouldn’t remove myself from his life.”

“But what if he asked you to leave?”

Han leaned forward in his chair. “Has Solas asked you to stay away from him?”

“Well, no. But maybe he’s afraid to say that.”

This made Han laugh. Sarya was offended that he found it funny. “Not afraid. Just incapable. That stupid man loves you and probably always will.”

“Incapable,” Sarya said. “That’s it. So maybe I should stay away for his own good.”

“Yes, we all saw how good it was for you to stay away,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How was the rotunda by the way?”

Sarya remembered the empty walls. The empty room. The empty air. The emptiness.

She didn’t answer Han.

The magic surrounding the blanket that he was knitting dispersed as it finished and it fell neatly into the basket below. “Look, Sarya, I won’t tell you that you’re soulmates destined to be. Personally I don’t believe in soulmates and people change and even grow apart. You may be bondmates but you’re not bound for eternity. If your heart is truly telling you to let him go then so be it. Your family will be here to support you either way. You want to pursue him? I’ll be happy to support you. You want to let go and grieve? I’ll be here. I will always be here for you. But I will not tell you how to live your life. You must make that decision for yourself.”

Sarya sucked in a breath between her teeth. She never believed in soulmates before and she wasn’t sure if she believed in the concept now. She wanted to. The idea was romantic and sounded somewhat magical. Two people facing the world together, beating everything that tried to break them. Stronger together and all that. That’s what it was supposed to be when two people didn’t keep misfiring at each other.

She had missed Solas while she was at Skyhold and she missed him even now. Every time she looked at her son, she often thought of Solas and how he would parent. How he would look at her, a smile on his face, happy with the name she chose. How he would soothe her anxious mind and rub her tired feet. She thought of how he would constantly feed and carry Ameridan everywhere with him and at the end of the day she’d rub the tension away from his shoulders. She thought of how happy it would make her to hear him call Ameridan theirs. She thought of all the ways they were better together and yet, she knew that her thoughts often didn’t align with her reality. What they could be and what they were seemed entirely too different.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

Han bit his lower lip in thought. “Unfortunately, I can’t even pretend to know the answer to that dear sister.”

Sarya sighed.

“Do you want him back?”

“I always do. But it’s unfair. I don’t know how to be with him. Accept him I mean. At least not who he is now. I’m so caught up in our history that I have a hard time seeing our present, let alone what our future could be.”

“Why?” Han asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel you must protect yourself by holding onto the past. What is your worst fear, Sarya?”

Sarya went quiet. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ll think on it. I’m exhausted Han. I’m going to head to bed.” She stopped at the doorway to the room and turned back. “And thank you for this.” She gestured around the room. “For everything.”

He gave her a nod. Picked up the mini bow again. “Goodnight dear sister. Dream well.”

She wandered back to the bedroom where Ameridan’s crib sat in the corner. She peeked over the railing and stroked his little chubby cheek before heading to bed.

Sleep overcame her. And she dreamt of great pain. Multitudes of voices echoing around her. Mouths opened to scream with no words but she felt them–their pain–pooling from a well inside of her and rippling through her. They reached out to her, clawed at her clothes, scratched at her arms. Their faces were melting away and she couldn’t make out who they were. Just knew they were elves by the point of their ears. Desperation was in their eyes.

“What do you need?” she asked. She was turning in circles, searching their faces. But they spoke those ancient words she’d never taken the time to learn. Their hands were on her, pulling her down under water. Plunging her into darkness. Washing her away with sorrows upon sorrows. Solas’ face was there amongst the others and tried to reach out to him. But there was too much chaos.

The scent of death burned in her nostrils and still stung her eyes when she woke in a cold sweat.

“Solas!” she cried. But he wasn’t there and she wrapped her arms around her knees and bowed her head.

Ameridan woke with her, working himself into a great fuss and she threw off the covers and went to him, soothing him with a song as she held him and rocked him.

“It’s okay, sweet one. You’re safe. I’m here. Mamae is here.” As she spoke the words, it brought relief to her own mind too. She stayed up with him for a few hours. Fed him, rocked him, sang to him and eventually fell asleep with him next to her in the bed.

—

Next morning, Sarya was at the beach, toes curled in the cool sand, basking in the rays of sun while enjoying the slight breeze that had come in. Baby Ameridan was fast asleep in her arms and for the first time in such a long while she felt content.

“Too bad you’re sleeping,” she said to Ameridan. “You’re missing out on a beautiful view.” She kissed his forehead.

“I’m not sure he’d even be able to enjoy it if he was awake. He is a baby after all.” Han sat down beside her in the sand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Sometimes you just need to sit in the sun,” she said. “I always remember that the world is bigger than me when I’m here.” She sighed as she stared out across the waves of the sea. A plethora of blues and greens stretched out before and above.

“Hmm yes,” Han said. The waves gurgled against the shore. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

Sarya blinked, coming to from her reveries and admiration. “Whatever you need.”

“I was officially elected for a council seat while you were away.”

Sarya smiled huge. “Really?” If she still had her other arm, she would’ve punched him. “That’s so great! I’m so proud of you! Though slightly pissed I wasn’t there to see it happen.”

He smirked. “Yes well, that just means you should be really proud to help me while I rebuild homes for the elves in the alienage. They deserve to have a community as nice as ours.”

“I agree with you of course. And I’d be happy to help.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He stood, dusting himself off and smiled down at her. So proud. So loving. And she couldn’t understand it.

Later she was hammering nails into boards with the baby on her back. The consistent whacking soothing her mind in some kind of way. She hummed and the autumn sun warmed the hair on her head. Forgot to eat lunch and didn’t realize time was even passing until Ameridan started fussing on her back.

“Oh.” She set the hammer down and reached for her son, pulling him out to have a look at him. Nearby, her pack sat, a bottle full of halla milk in the side pouch. Another special gift given by her family.

She began to feed Ameridan when Han showed up again, this time with Zevran in tow.

“Zevran! It’s so good to see you! I assumed you’d changed plans and weren’t coming.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed by some fellow assassins.”

Sarya raised a brow. “I hope you took care of those assassins…”

“It seems one has escaped. But no worries, I will find them soon enough.” Zevran bowed, taking her hand and kissing it in the process. It was as suave and graceful as ever. She never could quite master the finesse and charm that Zev had. “Ah, my dear Inquisitor. I am honored to be in your presence.”

Sarya tucked her hand into her pocket and flushed without meaning to. “Please, just call me Sarya.”

“As you wish. What did I miss?”

“Nothing actually. Just another day of work.”

“Then it seems I lucked out,” said Zevran.

Han laughed. “You really did.”

He and Zevran exchanged smiles and Sarya shook her head. “Han, have you shown him around the market yet?”

Han just smirked. “Nope but I’m planning to now. Care to join us?”

“No, thank you. I need to get Ameridan out of the sun and I promised El I’d help her prep for dinner this evening.”

“I’m a little bummed,” Han said.

“I'm not. I’ve never enjoyed being a third wheel,” Sarya said.

“Your loss.” Han took Zevran’s hand in his own. “See you around.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again.” Zevran threw her a wink.

“Trust me. The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied with a smile then waved them off.

She stayed out for a little while longer, sitting under the shade of the alienage tree, eating some stale sourdough crackers and berries she had packed before self awareness and overthinking kicked into gear. Then she tucked Ameridan back in the carrier, picked up her things and wandered home.

-

In the evening, Sarya helped her sister arrange a tray of fresh bread, cheeses, and fruit while Ellana cooed at Ameridan.

“He’s so precious,” she told her.

Sarya smiled, placing the finishing touches on the tray. “I think so.”

El’s voice lowered. “How are you doing?”

Sarya was surprised. Her sister didn't usually ask those sorts of questions. They’d always been best at bickering.

“Okay, I guess,” Sarya said.

El squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay even if you aren’t. Becoming a mother is difficult—it can be a heavy transition, especially when you’re grieving a loss. Just–I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Sarya placed a hand over hers. “Thank you, El. That means more to me than you could possibly know.”

Ellana smiled softly.

[continued on ao3]

[herstarburststories]

Make Me Yours

Day 4 of Kinktober: Body Ownership

Day 4 of Suptober: Branded

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader

Summary: Michael wants you to be his.

A/N: I swear I'm not that pornography on daily basis I'm even more, but branding is very kinky here. I also strongly support you listening to False God while reading. @itsangelpie @deanmonandnegansbitch, this is the Michael one I was talking about xD

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v, bit of power play, marking, brief fingering, grace

CATCH UP KINKTOBER & SUPTOBER

Michael enjoyed leaving a trace behind like any other powerful celestial.

Once, the loyal son convinced himself that it was because he wanted, not only humans, but his siblings, father, and any other being to know that he could be a savior like he was built to be. No matter what, he was a righteous warrior who would do anything his beloved father wanted him to. He was a perfect soldier, earning nothing but pride and all the head pats possible. 

At least, that was before. It was back when Michael thought that God truly loved him and that he had a bigger purpose than gaining adoration from his fragile humans to overthrow Lucifer — his little brother, the archangel that was thrown away like a rough draft. Now, Michael couldn't care less about living up to his goody two shoes reputation. He didn't care about his brothers and sisters either, much less the humans. The archangel wouldn't say that he hated them like Lucifer foolishly did. His brother was wrapped in a bubble of jealousy that was almost embarrassing. No, breakable things didn't deserve attention. Michael just didn't care about them or their little world. All of his heaven-made goals had melted into one thing to look forward to — getting Chuck back to kill him.

So what if he had to burn a couple of dimensions and their human inhabitants? That was just an unfortunate side effect of Chuck’s little creations being the only thing that could catch his attention.

Burn a book? Get the author’s fury.

Michael was more than satisfied with the idea of leaving a trace of calamitous fire behind. It was such a beautiful legacy that would put fear into the atmosphere of the universe, and Michael would be God. He would be better one — the evolved version of what he’d always been as an archangel.

The torn holes of vulnerability inside of him had only grown wider, gaping into an open wound when his father left him as though Michael were as useless as a broken toy. That wicked, selfish side said it was because he wanted everyone to know how terrible he can be — fear him so no one will ever be close enough to hurt him again. 

Terror had worked better than adoration for millenniums. 

The archangel is good with that. Unlike his father, Michael's ego is as big as the amount of blood in his hands, not the people on their knees or the number of démodé cathedrals to worship him in the name of a bible that he never wrote. He doesn't need humanity’s adoration.

You bit your bottom lip to contain a smile, glancing at him. Michael could read from your mind and erratic heartbeat that you were both excited and curious about what was going to happen. Yet, he didn't need to. He knew your body — that perfect body — very well by himself with no help of his powers.

Correction: he needs one human's worship.

As mentioned beforehand, powerful beings like to leave a trace behind for multiple reasons: marking their territory like a big dog, making a point to gain respect through terror, or boosting their self-confidence. 

“Get on all fours, little one.”

For the first time, Michael wanted to make someone a living reminder of him. He wanted to mark a human for being his: you.

You were obedient, quickly moving to the position that he had asked. You can hear Michael humming in satisfaction, moving in such a quiet way that you almost feel surprised when he placed his hand on your back.

Michael watched your body with care, his fingers dancing with tenderness on your skin. He used to believe that a vessel was everything a human body was worth. Sex was a foreign concept, nothing but an earthling’s attempt not to feel alone — if they weren't fighting, they were fucking. It got boring after the first few centuries.

And then, you happened.

“So marvelous, little one.” His words were laced with gruffness, startling a whimper out of you. “All of this…” He held your waist and pulled you back swiftly. You gasped, feeling his hardness against your ass. Michael didn't slide in, but he kept rubbing himself on you. “All of you…” One of his hands slid down your body, making way for his fingers to catch your sweet spot. You were so warm and wet: there was nothing on Heaven, Earth, or Hell as splendid your needy cunt. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“To you, Michael. I belong to you. Please.” You should be ashamed of begging so early, but how could you judge yourself? Michael's hard cock behind you, making your ass dirty with precum along with two fingers inside your pussy and his possessive words stewing inside your head — you were still just a human, after all. “I need you.”

It was blissful, to have someone he was enchanted by to worship him as the Sabaeans did to the stars.

“Patience is a virtue, little one.” The archangel wore a proud smirk, adding another finger into your wet mess. You groaned in response, pressing your hips to his pelvis in an obvious attempt for more.

Michael's cock welcomed the growing arousal, dropping more precum than before and twitching. It was difficult not to give himself any relief, but he had to teach you a lesson before taking you again. Religion came with strict rules.

He pulled away from you, grabbing your neck from behind only to push your head on the bed. Your cheek to the mattress made it was painfully easy for reality to sink in: the archangel’s fingers on your bare skin, his fingers that were inside you. There was something uniquely blasphemous about sinning like this.

“You take what I give you, and you're grateful for that. Understood?” He howled, tightening his hold on you. “I picked you.”

“Yes, master.” The two words fought to leave your mouth before ultimately escaping. You know you should be afraid, but your soul refuses to welcome any feeling other than excitement. Michael didn't even use his grace yet. He wouldn't hurt you: at least, not enough for you to suffer. Everything he did to your body was a blessing.

“Good.” He exhaled, letting go of your neck. The archangel had been way too patient, and you waited long enough. You dared turn your head to look at him, and Michael was divine. His gorgeous body was crouched with his knees on the bed while he patiently observed you. His length was large and rock hard against your leg. You just wanted to give him release. “Like what you see?”

You gulped, nodding furiously. The archangel chortled before he slid his cock inside you without any other warning.

You let out a shamefully loud scream. What else could you do? His cock was fucking its way inside you, cleansing your body with the prayer of being everything you could ever need or want: to feel holy, to feel full. Michael grunted, grabbing your hips to pull you closer, and you moved back and forth in sync with him. Soon, the bed was the one clamoring with noise. Both of you became hollow when you were like this — hungry, craving for something to fill up your empty pieces.

Michael was the right hand of God, the protector — whatever treasures he chose to deify would be eternal because he could make it happen. And for Heaven, he adored you.

His cock found your G-spot, and his grace flooded into your veins as if it was meant to be there. Your walls were tighter and tighter around him, and you couldn't wait to feel his load inside you, marking you from inside. There was a wash of glowing pleasure in your body. You had never felt so light before. This felt like the precipice of your glorified religion, and God, you could make a church out of this.

“That's it, my love.” Michael moaned, his eyes bright blue as he fucked himself into you. You bit the pillow to keep another scream down. He squeezed your waist. There was something burning in your bones with a painful pleasure as his hand glowed. He was branding you as his, writing his symbol all over your soul, bones, and heart. And you were enjoying every single ache of it. “Cum for me. I want to hear you coming for me.”

He may be a false god, but he certainly brought you to heaven.

Your lips parted into a moan as your juice came all over his pulsating cock, and Michael came inside you in a rush. Everything hurt as if he had rearranged your bones, but it was as comfortable as if they were all snapped back together in the right places. You fell on the bed out of exhaustion, wondering if you'd live to see another day. All of you seemed to be on fire, much more than the other times. Your pussy was pulsing, and you could smell him all over your skin. He had made your body his. You were his.

Michael pulled away from you, a lopsided grin on his lips as he glanced at his possession. The archangel laid down, pulling your tired body to him. You clung to Michael while trying to breathe properly. What had just happened?

“Wh — What was that?”

“I marked you, little one.” Michael gave you a devilish grin while his eyes shone a dazzling blue. He was the apocalypse of your soul, and you couldn't wait for the sweet destruction. “Now, everyone will know that you are mine. Your pussy, all your body, and your soul. You belong to me, Y/N.” He had everything now. The world and you. He was ethereal. “I'm your god now.”

You made an altar out of him, and you'd always be a loyalist to this love, no matter the sacrifices you'd have to do for this. 

Leave a comment and reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my day 1,2&3 of kinktober & day 3 of suptober, and my masterlist ♡

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[carriagelamp]

Since it’s Pride Month, I decided this year I wanted to raid the library for a bunch of different queer books to read. Mostly graphic novels in this case, because I’ve had a hard time settling into much reading lately... thought hopefully now that it’s summer and I finally have my second shot I’ll be able to relax a bit more and dig into some heavier novels again. For now, enjoy some light, queer reads that I indulged in this June.

A Wolf Called Wander

A beautiful novel I had been hearing lots about. This story follows the young wolf Swift, who grows up knowing that he and his pack are the mountains, and the mountains are them. It’s in those mountains that he grows and learns and loves… until disaster strikes and he finds himself viciously torn apart from his family and forced out of the mountains that have always meant home to him. Forced to survive on his own. Swift then begins a gruelling journey that makes him face injury, starvation, and the everpresent danger of humans as he seeks a new place he can call home, and new people with whom he can form a pack.

This is all based on the true story of a tagged wolf known as OR-7, following the unbelievable route he took through Oregon and northern California! It was a very neat read, and I’d definitely recommend it if you enjoy stories told from an animal’s perspective because this book is a master class in it.

Bloom

I decided for June to try to read a handful of different queer books, and this was one of the first graphic novels I picked up. It is a super sweet story and the art is lovely. It’s about Ari, a boy who has just graduated high school and is now desperate to move away from his small town and his family’s struggling bakery, to join his band in the city where they hope to make it big. An agreement is finally reached: Ari’s father will let him leave, if he can find someone who can replace him in the bakery, which is how Ari meets Hector, someone who sees artistry and peace in baking. For anyone that’s read Check, Please, it gives off those types of vibes!

Boule et Bill: Bill est Maboul

Another book of Dupuis comics, because I can’t get enough of them! This one I just stumbled across and ended up reading on a whim but it was very cute. Geared younger than the others I’ve read, but still quite funny. It’s the charming hijinks of a young boy, his dog, and the family they live with. Each page or so is a different stand alone joke, a bit like Calvin and Hobbes except expanded beyond a single strip.

Chicken Run: Chicken Pies for the Soul

This was a ridiculous urge I got and had to follow. I recently rewatched Chicken Run (which is, of course, one of the best movies ever made) and felt the need to see if it had ever been novelized. Well, I found something better than a novelization! This is a chapter book with “advice” and stories written by the various characters, post-movie. It really does a good job with grasping the different characters’ voices and making something simple and funny out of it. It was very cute (and available on The Internet Archive if anyone else feels like reading something ridiculous!)

Doodleville

I picked this up on a whim and honestly, I shouldn’t have bothered. It was not very impressive. Very mediocre, awkward feeling artwork, and a story that only slightly manages to redeem it. The concept was kind of neat, and I did like how the ending came about, the rest was rather… plodding. I did not like the main character at all, her friends felt very Intentionally Quirky Aren’t We Cute :3 in a way that just tries too hard, and… yeah. Meh. It technically gets the “queer graphic novel flag” but it’s so in-passing that it feels rather excessive to give it that.

If you are interested, it’s about a world were doodles actually exist as living creatures that can be drawn into existence (the rather unsettling implications of which is never fully explored). This is all well and good, until the main character draws a monster and takes it with her to her art club... where it begins ravanging not only her doodles, but those of her friends. Together they need to work together to figure out how to stop this menace.

FRNCK v4

Phenomenal. I adore the FRNCK series, and book four wrapped up the first “cycle”, revealing several of the big secrets dogging the series so far, and changing how things are going to be able to run in the future.

If you haven’t seen me talk about it before, FRNCK is a graphic novel (a franco-belgian bande dessinée) about a young orphan, Franck, who’s chafing under the constant parade of uninterested foster parents that visit the orphanage he lives in. Determined to learn about his mysterious abandonment instead, he flees the orphanage… but finds himself tumbling through time, landing among a family of cave-people who rather reluctantly take him in and ensure this modern boy doesn’t die in the strange, dangerous new surroundings he finds himself in. You can get these ones in English as e-books, so if you want a really kickass graphic novel series to read please try these.

Haikyu!!

I’ve heard so much about Haikyu!! that I finally gave in and picked up the first book from the library. And I gotta say, it’s well worth the hype! This series really does capture the best parts of a good sports manga -- which is to say the team is filled with interesting, enjoyable character who all need to learn to pull together, boost each other’s strengths, and cover for each other’s weaknesses. Love me some found family tropes and this series oozes it in the best possible way. And then you also get some very cool action scenes as it makes high school volleyball seem like the most intense thing on earth. I can’t wait to continue it

Queer Eye

I haven’t been keeping up with Queer Eye but I was watching it ravenously when it first came out, and this seemed like a very cathartic book to read… and it really was. It had the same gentle, loving encouragement as the show. It doesn’t expect you to change your entire life, but to learn to embrace who you are, and take small steps to enhance those things. There a segment written (presumably) by each member of the Fab Five, explaining the mentality behind what they do on the show and how you can grow in those areas too. It’s very zen.

Spinning

I got this graphic novel out at the same time as Bloom, but it was the one that interested me less of the two... though that’s just because I have less interest in “real world” slice of life as a genre and this one is meant to be autobiographical. If you’re into that, you’ll probably love this because it really is stunning. Very pretty, and the format and pacing is all really well done. It’s a coming of age story for Tillie as she grows up dealing with a crosscountry move, complicated friendships, a burgeoning attraction to girls, and attending competitive figure skating classes.

This Place: 150 Years Retold

A stunning and heart-wrenching graphic novel told by a collection of different First Nation’s authors/artists, recounting oral histories about the 150 years since the colonialist formation of the country known as “Canada”. In other words, this is a post-apocalypse story, but one that really happened and that entire peoples are still fighting to survive. It’s very eye opening and beautifully told. Very strongly recommend the read, especially if you’re at all interested in history.

Torchwood: Serenity

Whoops, not technically a book. I had thought these were technically audiobooks at first, but rather they’re audio dramas that were played on the radio. Still, I decided to include one because I’ve been listening to them like a person possessed and they’re too fun not to at least mention. Let me indulge in my obsessions.

If you don’t know Torchwood, it’s a BBC series that spins-off from Doctor Who, focusing on the enigmatic and flirtatious Captain Jack Harkness, who is running the covert organization known as Torchwood, which is tasked to protect humanity from and prepare them for alien contact. It’s goofy and campy but also more adult and heavy than Doctor Who tends to get, so it is (in my opinion) a really fascinating series. Though it also has content warnings coming out the wazoo so maybe make sure it’s for you before delving in.

Serenity specifically is possibly one of the best Torchwood stories I’ve ever experienced. The Torchwood team concludes that there’s an undercover alien hiding in the idyllic gated community Serenity Plaza, and so that means it’s up to Jack and Ianto to go undercover as a happily married couple and flush out the alien without being discovered first. Even if it means being sickly sweet together, pretending to care about the local neighbourhood barbecues, and actually caring a bit too much about the Best Front Lawn competition. What is truly magical about this one, is that it manages to make it a Fake Dating AU despite the fact that Jack and Ianto are actually dating in canon. But they’re both used to dating as a pair of alien hunters with insanely dysfunctional lives, and who now need to figure out how to deal with domesticity. It is marvellous.

Wilderlore: The Accidental Apprentice

A middle grade novel that felt a bit like a cross between Harry Potter and Pokemon. It’s about orphan Barclay Thorne who wants nothing more than to be accepted in the rule-bound village of Dullshire, and live up to his apprenticeship as a mushroom farmer. He certainly wants nothing to do with the fearsome Beasts who live beyond the village, deep in the Woods or the sinister Lorekeepers that bond with them. It was, after all, a Beast that had killed his parents all those years ago. But when he finds himself at the very edge of the forest, hunting for an elusive mushroom, he is suddenly unable to avoid any of that. Not when a wild girl and her bonded dragon appear to summon a horrible Beast and end up getting Barclay bonded to it instead. Now, if Barclay ever wants to be welcomed back into his home, he has no choice but to venture into the Woods and find a way to sever the bond imprisoning him to the massive, monstrous wolf now imprinted on his body as a living tattoo.

I honestly can’t decide how I felt about this one. I feel like it’d be a really fun read for maybe a grade 5 to 7 student? I was a bit more meh about it. It was fine, but it was very hard not to draw unfavourable parallels to Harry Potter. But for a kid who’s never read Harry Potter? Or even an adult that has but is looking for something different to scratch that itch, this might be a good book to try. I’ll probably try reading the second book when it comes out.

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Breathing - Aragorn x reader (modern!AU)

hi! could you do prompt #53 with a female reader and aragorn? thank you!

@elvish-sky​ oh joy, another sad aragorn fic (jk jk). i wanted to write this one as a modern!AU because of some research i was doing before school ended for science and ... i just thought of the concept and liked it, okay hush

53. “You said you were okay!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Aragorn x reader (modern!AU) Summary: Y/N hasn’t been entirely honest with her boyfriend, Aragorn. Warnings: angst, sadness, death, Word Count: 1,704 words

Y/N laughed loudly as the black Newfoundland puppy chased its fluffy tail, the dark fur sticking up as though it had been struck by lightning. 

Aragorn grinned at her, taking yet another long moment to watch her - to savour everything about his beautiful girlfriend. Just like every time she giggled, he wanted the seconds to last forever. He wanted every day he got to be with Y/N to last forever, because one day, they would be unable to make new memories. 

One day sooner than he would like. 

He tugged the sleeves of his RSPCA volunteer jacket down as he sat by her side, whistling for the dog to come and sit by his side. It obliged, just as all the animals in the shelter, or anywhere, always did.

Animal whisperer, Y/N would tease him. Like Doctor Dolittle!

Aragorn looked to her again, the smile still on Y/N’s face. Flushed s/c cheeks. Hooded e/c eyes with heavy bags under them, yet she still looked beauty. H/l messy h/c hair, kept out of her face by a f/c ribbon.

Then, the things people tended to stare at. The bag by her side, much like the wheeled kind some people used to shop. The nose cannula hooked behind her ears, a long tube carrying oxygen from the bag. A surgery scar protruding from her f/c shirt’s neckline. 

Those things didn’t bother him. He loved her. 

“Are you okay?”

Aragorn blinked at Y/N’s question. Normally he was the one asking her that question, or supposed to be. “I-I’m perfect.”

She smiled again. “That’s good.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet as well. “Come on. My shift’s up.”

Y/N jokingly pouted. “But the puppies!”

This time, it was Aragorn who laughed. “We’ll come back next week, I promise.”

“Next week,” she echoed, a sadness in her voice that her boyfriend didn’t detect.

---

Y/N coughed, making a face as the last of her pills went down her throat. She took dozens every day - it was part of her necessary, pre-determined hospital routine. 

Her nurse, Legolas, (A/N - stan male nurses) passed her some water, which she gladly swallowed, hacking again. 

“Good job,” he grinned. “Everything’s doing okay. Lung function is at 54 percent, a little lower than last week, but it will get higher again.”

She’d definitely expected that, though her heart still sunk.

“I’ll let your boyfriend in now.” Legolas laughed at the annoyed look on his charge’s face. The sound faded as he took on a more serious tone. “But, you remember that it could get even worse anytime, especially-”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted, her voice scratched and broken. “I know.”

“Be careful,” the nurse reminded her again, as he left the room, Aragorn passing through the door before it could even swing shut. 

“Going alright?”

Y/N grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I hate my lungs.”

He took her hand, squeezing it tightly, like he would never, could never, let go. “I know you’re strong, Y/N/N. You can’t let CF beat you.”

Ah, yes. There it was - the casual reminder Y/N couldn’t go a day without hearing. Stressing how she was holding her life in an hourglass, which was rapidly running out of time.

Cystic Fibrosis. An often terminal lung condition, meaning Y/N’s lungs functioned at low percentages, causing difficulty in her breathing and weakened immune system. She was often lucky to spend more than a month out of the hospital, thought that hadn’t been the case recently.

She’d been continually relapsing, her lung function decreasing with every checkup. 

To put it simply, it sucked. Royally. 

“Here,” Aragorn offered her her nose cannula. “Hook up, and I’ll distract you.”

Y/N slipped it on, taking his hand and dragging her portable oxygen in The Granny Shopping Bag™️ with the other. smiling.

Well, at least, her mask was smiling. Inside, she didn’t know if she had the energy or will to anymore.

---

Y/N knew it was a risk, and she was exactly aware of the million and one ways this could go wrong. 

But she didn’t care. She was going to live whilst she still could. She was done with giving up her life, letting down her boyfriend, because of some stupid mucus. 

Besides, he didn’t know. He didn’t know it all, and she wasn’t going to stop them from being unable to make happy memories together by burdening him with more bad news. Being the protective guy he was, Aragorn probably wouldn’t even let her leave the hospital if her found out.

“Ready?” said-boyfriend-in-question asked.

“Hell yeah,” Y/N grinned, straightening the edges of her denim jacket. 

They stood at the archway entrance to the Rivendell National Park - a beautiful wonderland of pale trees and swirling leaves, in the deep of autumn.

Technically, Y/N wasn’t meant to engage in ‘prolonged physical activity’. But technically, she wasn’t even meant to be alive right now.

No one, least of all her, knew how much time she had left. Y/N wasn’t one to waste it. 

Together, she and Aragorn stepped through the archway, and explored the ‘whole new realm’.

---

After ten minutes, her lungs were burning, but she didn’t say anything.

Aragorn was looking so happy - a goofy smily affixed upon his face, his dark eyes lighting up as he swished his head from side to side to admire everything with childish wonder. 

The National Park was beautiful, but the air was thin, and Y/N was struggling not to audibly struggle. She hated being dependent on people, and she would. Not. Worry. Him.

Something felt different this time - her breathing was quickening even though she was walking extraordinarily slowly, and she was in more pain than she should’ve been

Y/N signalled for Aragorn to stop, doubling over and coughing until her throat was raw. She couldn’t breathe whilst the mucus was crawling up her airways, and she’d rather clear it than suffer.

“Get it out, Y/N,” Aragorn encouraged her as she straightened, worry sketched all over his face. 

Her coughing was done, and she went to take a nice big inhale, but ....

She.

Still.

Couldn’t.

Breathe.

Breathing should’ve been something natural, easy, if she had been just a normal young woman with her normal boyfriend. 

She wished that lying didn’t come to her easier than breathing.

Y/N collapsed, choking, almost about to pass out as Aragorn immediately fell to her side, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling an emergency number.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, his breaths coming shortly as well as he scooped her up into his arms. “Oh, God. Y-You’re going to be okay, Y/N.”

Funny how good they’d both become at lying.

With that thought, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, without the energy to keep themselves open.

“Y/N!”

---

Aragorn sat in the waiting room with a feeling like acid being poured down his throat and then regurgitated. 

She shouldn’t have collapsed like that - it was highly medically improbable given what he knew about Y/N and her Cystic Fibrosis. Unless ... there was something he didn’t know.

He shook his head as soon as that thought came to him. He trusted Y/N. She trusted him. He had to have faith in her.

The sound of footsteps encouraged him to look sideways, where he saw Y/N’s nurse, Legolas, with four cups of coffee in his arms.

“Expecting someone else?” Aragorn laughed as he was handed one of the cups.

“Oh, no,” Legolas replied, with an unbelievably straight face. “I intend to drink all the coffee.”

“How is Y/N?” 

The nurse winced. “I will be honest with you - she isn’t going so well right now. The fact that she was still walking with you ... that’s pretty amazing given her lung function and diagnosis.”

“What do you mean?” Aragorn furrowed his eyebrows. “She-she’s fine, isn’t she?”

Legolas stared. “Y/N didn’t tell you, did she? Oh, that stubborn little-”

“Tell me what?”

He averted Aragorn’s eyes. “Tell you that she was diagnosed with Burkholderia Cepacia and she was given another six months to live with her current lung function.”

“What?” All the air rushed out of his lungs, and suddenly, he knew how Y/N felt when it was hard for her to breathe. “H-How long has it been?”

Again, the blond looked awkwardly to the floor.

“How long?!” It was a shout this time, and Aragorn could feel himself on the brink of tears. His beautiful girlfriend, lost to the void ... he could not cope with it.

“Seven months.”

He fell back in his chair, coffee discarded, his shaking hands covering his face as his cheeks dripped with tears. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

A doctor rushed out from the ER, making a beeline for Legolas. Her nametag read ‘Tauriel’, her long red hair flying behind her as she ran towards them.

Her face was sober.

“He-he should come. Now.” She motioned towards Aragorn who stood immediately.

“Is Y/N alright?”

Dr. Tauriel did not answer his question, just motioning for him to follow her. 

---

Y/N wasn’t moving. For such a joyful young woman, she was lying unbelievably still. 

There was a crowd of doctors around her, but they all moved back at the sight of Aragorn.

“I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t know who said it ... all he could think about was how much paler Y/N looked than her normal s/c. 

“She-she’s just a-asleep, r-right?” Aragorn stuttered on the words as more tears fell down his face. “Y/N’s o-okay?”

Dr. Tauriel shook her head. “I’m so sorry. We-we couldn’t do anything.”

“You said you were okay!” Aragorn cried, talking to Y/N even though she couldn’t hear him - would never hear him again. Jut like he would never hear her. “You told me you were okay ...”

“Get him out of here,” someone said quietly, and Aragorn was pulled to the door.

He threw one final look over his shoulder. 

Y/N’s hair was spread out over the pillow. Her hands had been folded over her chest. She still had her nose cannula in, but that had never made her less beautiful.

Even in death, she still looked like an angel.

She was still the most beautiful person Aragorn had ever known.

A/N - guys this is my new favourite fic so please spread it! @elvish-sky​ thank you so much for this request, and everyone, thank you for reading!

[rigmarolling]

Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back

Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.

Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:

1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia

Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring. 

Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.

Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.

During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.

Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive. 

The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry. 

Above: Me, except all the time.

Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”

Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.

(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)

2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property

The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt. 

Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.

Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).

That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Because Odin could be kind of a dick.

Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.

And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”

“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”

“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”

So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.

He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.

Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.

Above: Santa, but so much worse.

To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.

To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.

They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet. 

People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship. 

(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)

Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer. 

And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.

If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager. 

So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.

3. Yule Logs

Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:

...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?

But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.

This served a few purposes: 

It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.

It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.

It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.

Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.

Winter cold. Fire warm.

Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)

The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.

In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.

(Quick note:  The word “yule” is  the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)

4. Upside down Christmas trees

I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.

Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.

Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:

Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.

A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.

Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads. 

(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)

Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so. 

Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.

5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards

So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)

The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.

Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:

What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws? 

What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?

And then there’s this one:

“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging. 

What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”

Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?

Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?

Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)

But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.

This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.

I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:

Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.

This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:

I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.

If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”

Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it. 

Wait, no. We can also use this one:

Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.

[utterlyinevitable]

I want them all for E&O but will settle for 4-7 from each category for E&O please 🙏

Aaa you’re too sweet! Thank you for asking 💕

> ship questions <

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Ethan. Like in canon, Miami is when he started to see her as more than just an attractive, brilliant intern. She retreated back to her room amicably for the evening before Ethan could even kiss her. Of which he’s thankful because he respects her and her career too much to have a moment of lustful weakness. 

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

They both did. Ethan got good at it for the most part, but once they started spending time together outside of work related things after the Louise thing, he couldn’t help but be soft in the name of friendship. But idk any friends that would buy be a $2k keyboard 👀

Ode caught feelings after the Louise thing too. She has a better poker face though and with their weird boss/friend/mentor dynamic she couldn’t wrap her head around losing all of that because of fleeting romantic feelings. 

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Ode would laugh and says she knows - he’s her medical hero and their brains work similarly. If anyone was going to be her soulmate it would be him. Though she means it absolutely platonically. 

Ethan would just shake his head and say such notions don’t exist. Though if you told him this after his 40th he’d be silent on the matter, while everything inside him would be inclined to agree. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

ooooo this is interesting! 

If Ethan never ever met Ode I think he’d continue his jaded, mostly celibate lifestyle. He’s devoted to his work and it would take a truly magnificent person to change him - and that can really only be done by a soulmate...😏 He and Harper would fall back into their back and forth companionable coexistence. It’s not perfect but it’s something to make him feel like he’s a living man and not a machine. 

So for Ode... if she never stumbled upon Ethan’s research that completely turned her world around, she would be studying to become a dentist maybe? She always leaves music for the greater good of medicine, idk what she’d go into if it wasn’t diagnostics. 

 GENERAL

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

I think they’re each others first real and true love. Ethan certainly didn’t love Harper or any of his other past partners since he doesn’t believe in the concept. And Odette... she has only had 2 other relationships and they never really stuck long enough to move past the initial infatuation.  

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Ethan is 6′6 and Odette is 5′8 so nearly a foot lol. They’re also 10 years and 4 months apart. 

6. What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Odette and Alan adore one another. Alan’s crashed enough of the pair’s study and dinner not-a-dates enough times to forge a bond. It’s become quite a joke between the small family that Ode just comes by in hopes of running into Naveen and talking about classic rock and what growing up in the 60s and 70s was like. (for a girl who’s quite poised and refined in her clothing she is really drawn to the 70s billow and floral aesthetic). At the start Ode really didn’t want to get involved with Ethan’s parents because that’s his business - Alan made it really hard to stick to that. And by the time Louise turned up they already had a little bond on top of her hating the broken look on Ethan’s face. 

Odette is an inherently private person. Her parents know about Ethan and their mentor/friendship. They don’t find out that they’re dating until she goes home to visit ~9 months into their relationship and tells them she’s bringing someone. She has never ever introduced them to a boy before and they’re over the moon that she’s found happiness. Just from this alone they know Ethan is special. When they get there things are very awkward - Ethan’s not good at this and Ode doesn’t like how attending her parents are being. Long story short, things go great and when they’re sipping beers while the ladies clean up, her dad gives Ethan a small photo album of his favorite pictures of Odette through the years. It’s Ethan’s most prized possession to date.  

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Odette, for obvious reasons. She’s able to schmooze a lot better than he can. She’s also able to diffuse situations with such elegance and grace he has never seen in his lifetime. She gets him out of a lot of things with a smile and swapping business cards. 

LOVE

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Cuddling is their favorite downtime activity. She rests her head against his shoulder or his chest as their sat on the couch, or throws her feet over his lap. 

They’re not big on PDA. Sometimes they hold hands when they’re around close friends. More often than not you’ll find Ethan with his hand on or forearm wrapped around her lower back. Kisses are short and only happen when they’re certain no one they know is around and if there are people around, no one is paying them any mind. For them intimacies really belong in the privacy of their homes. 

5. Who initiates kisses?

Ethan for the most part. Physical touch is one of his love languages and he needs that sort of contact in the relationship. Ode never denies him, she always sighs into him. 

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

Ethan’s obviously big spoon because he’s like double her size. He also prefers to have his arms wrapped around her when they’re asleep.  

7. What are their favorite things to do together?

Running. Their thing is long jogs and then brunch right after. Odette hates running but took it up because it was the only thing that could get Ethan out of his head and talking enough during the Louise thing. Now running has a place in her heart because it’s more or less where they started falling in love with each other as people and not as just doctors. 

Opera. Farmers Markets. And of course they both just love being in one anothers company. Ethan also adores listening to her play. A lot of the time she hides away but he can still hear it through the door and walls of the apartment. When they get their big house she’s more comfortable with him in her creative space - their piano is the focal point of the indoor/outdoor sitting room. He likes to sit on the patio with the bi-folding doors open while she’s at her grand playing away. The music cascading through their home and out to their beachfront property. 

DOMESTIC LIFE

4. Do they have any pets?

No, they don’t. They keep talking about getting a dog or a cat. They look at rescue websites and discuss which ones they should go meet. But really they both know they’re much too busy to give a pet the attention they deserve. 

5. Who’s the stricter parent?

They don’t have kids. If they did it would probably be Ethan. 

6. Who worries the most?

They both do but in different ways. They both worry about work and the future. As director and only child, Ethan worries about bigger life things. Whereas Odette is quite secular in her worries - she takes them one at a time as they come. 

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Ethan. Odette is not touching that nope nah ah ah 

[favefandomimagines]

Goodbye Love (t.h.)

Summary: Tom doesn’t realize how much being shipped with another woman hurts you, until you leave.

AN: i did a concept like this with a ben hardy imagine so I thought I’d do it with Tom. This is old and is one of the 41 drafts i have saved but too scared to post lol SO i hope you enjoy (using hailey bieber as a face claim cause i felt weird having a faceless photo of someone on a red carpet) xx

Ever since Tom had finished filming Spider-Man: Far From Home, the tomdaya shippers have been in full swing.

Shipping them ten times as hard as they did the first time. It was easy to ignore but now it was getting hard. Especially when Tom isn’t doing anything to make it stop.

His fans found an interview of him, being asked if he found his Liz Allen in real life and when he answered yes, the video was edited to show videos and pictures of him and Zendaya. Even though in that interview he was talking about you.

Currently in Atlanta, you sat on the bed you shared with Tom, Tessa laying close to you, almost as if she knew that you were upset. You were waiting for Tom to come home, though you were a nervous wreck. How were you supposed to tell him how you felt and that you were going home for a little bit?

“Love, I’m home!” Tom called from the living room. You didn’t move and neither did Tessa. Which was odd because she always left to go greet Tom when he got home.

He entered the room and saw you two on the bed. “There are my girls.” He greeted with a smile on his face. He walked over and tried to kiss your lips but you moved your head so his lips landed on your cheek instead.

Tom looked at you for a moment, a curious look falling on his face. “What’s wrong?” He asked. Tom knew you inside and out and he could tell something was wrong with you.

You didn’t look up at him, just handed him your phone with the screenshots and screen recordings, of people praising him and Zendaya’s nonexistent relationship and degrading you and your real one.

“Two years, Tom. I’ve been going through this for two years.” You finally spoke. “At first, I ignored it. Knowing I could put up with it for a few months while the movie was out and you were doing press. Then it just kept getting worse. Seeing people call me terrible names and wanting you to break up with me and wanting me to-” You started but stopping yourself, the more intense comments being worse than most. “Y/N-“ He tried to speak. “And you know what the worst part is? You haven’t done a single thing to end it.” You cut him off.

You still hadn’t looked at him when you got off the bed and grabbed the two bags you packed.

Tom watched you place them on the bed and his heart started to beat faster and his eyes widened. “W-What are you doing?” He asked. “I think, I should go back to LA for a little bit and just let you think things through. Is letting your fans have some fun with the idea of tomdaya worth losing me?” You replied.

“Y/N, please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me.” Tom begged, tears welling up in his eyes. “We’re just taking a break, Tom. But if you decide that I’m not worth it, that’s going to be it.” You told him. You picked up the bags and headed towards the door when Tom grabbed your wrist. “Please don’t leave.” Tom whispered.

You looked at him for a moment before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I have too.” You whispered back. Tom reluctantly let go of your wrist as you opened the door.

Tessa got down off the bed and began to follow you out the bedroom door. The dog began to cry softly as you headed towards the front door of the airbnb. “Goodbye, love.” You said to Tom before exiting the house.

Tom watched you leave, the tears falling freely at that point. He didn’t know it had gotten so bad for you. He’s ignored the shipping a million times knowing it was you he loved but he never knew you were second guessing everything about your relationship and yourself.

He ran his hands through his hair out of frustration before retreating back to the bedroom.

***

It had been three weeks. Three weeks since he had seen you. Of course he’d seen the photos of you in LA. Just because you’re going through something emotionally, doesn’t mean your career stops.

You had been doing a bunch of press for the TV season you had just wrapped before you went to Atlanta with Tom. It was the best idea you could think of to get your mind off of Tom.

He wasn’t having such luck. Everything reminded him of you and he wasn’t the same knowing that your relationship was in the balance. And everyone around him noticed.

“Tom, what’s going on?” Zendaya asked him one day. “Y/N didn’t leave for work, she left because of the fans shipping you and I. She couldn’t take it anymore.” Tom answered. “What do you mean?” She asked. “I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and you’re supposed to be her friend and yet we let thousands of people ship us together, without even thinking of how that could make Y/N feel.” Tom ranted.

Zendaya had never thought of that before. She didn’t realize just how cruel the fans were until she checked while she was talking to Tom.

“Oh yeah. This is, uh, very bad.” Zendaya said. Tom looked at her phone and noticed that there were new comments.

‘Y/N is so beneath Tom. Zendaya is a queen’

‘Y/N should just kill herself.’

‘Y/N’s show is gonna flop and then tom will see how much better zendaya is’

‘tomdaya is better.’

Tom’s stomach twisted seeing all the negative comments about his girlfriend and one wanting her to end her life. If they were really his fans, they’d support him 100%. “How could they be so cruel?” Tom asked. “I don’t know but maybe we do need to say something.” Zendaya replied.

“I need to get her to come back.” He muttered. “You setting your fans straight will do that.” Zendaya told him. Tom nodded his head before taking out his phone and posting an old picture of you at the Infinity War premiere.

@tomholland2013: i am going to be blunt and i’ve never done this before so bear with me. but the constant shipping of Zendaya and I, had gotten out of hand. I am in a happy and loving relationship with the woman in this photo. You don’t have to like it but you have to respect it. Y/N is the love of my life and seeing her being brought down my total strangers, breaks my heart. No fan of mine brings her down. And that’s that. @y/f/n_y/l/n

You got the notification that Tom had tagged you in a photo. Swiping your phone, you read the caption carefully. “He finally did it.” You said to yourself. But why now, two weeks later?

That conversation wasn’t one to have over the phone so you had your agent get you the next flight to Atlanta.

“Are you sure you want to leave half way through press?” She asked you. “I have too. Everyone will understand, they know how much Tom means to me.” You answered. “Okay. Your flight lands at 9:45 and pack an umbrella. There’s supposed to be a huge storm when you land.” She told you. You gave her a gracious smile before getting in your Uber.

***

Tom sat on the couch, quietly watching whatever soccer game was on, only wishing you were there next to him. You hated watched soccer with him because of how competitive he got but whenever he asked, you watched with him. 

He was knocked out of his reminiscing by the sound of his phone vibrating. Seeing it was Harrison, he sighed but picked it up. “Hello?” He answered. “Are you still sulking?” Harrison asked his best friend. “What do you think?” Tom retorted. “You have to stop that, Tom. She’ll come back when she’s ready.” Harrison told him. 

Tom sighed, knowing well that Harrison could hear. “Look, you saw the comments. They’re terrible. Telling her to kill herself so that you and Zendaya can finally be together. You don’t get over something like that over a few nights.” He added. “I know, but I just wish I could make it better. It’s been three weeks.” Tom said. “I know but you did all you can do. It’s all up to her now.” Harrison said. 

Tom knew his best friend was right. He knew you needed time to yourself, to make sure you were fully ready to come back to him. “But, if it’s any consolation, I had a surprise sent to your doorstep.” Harrison added. “What?” Tom questioned. “And you might wanna hurry up and bring it inside before it gets absolutely soaked.” He said. 

With furrowed eyebrows Tom got off the couch with his phone still pressed to his ear. “What are you on about?” Tom asked him. “Just do it.” Harrison ordered. Tom rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. He opened it up to reveal a soaking wet you. 

“Hi, love.” You greeted him, the sound of the rain nearly drowning out your voice. “Y/N, w-wha- you’re here.” Tom stammered. “Yes, I am now can you please let me inside before I get pneumonia?” You asked with a small laugh. 

Tom didn’t let you inside but instead hung up the phone and walked outside to pull you into him. He didn’t care if you were soaked from the rain or the fact that he was also getting wet as well. The only thing that mattered to him was you. 

“Tom, you’re going to get sick.” You told him, breaking the silence. “I don’t care. That’s the last thing I care about. I just need to hold you.” He replied.

You let go and looked up at him for a moment. “Y/N, I was a mess without you. You are everything to me and not having you here was hell.” Tom told you. “I love you, I am so in love with you. And I’m so sorry.” He added.

You didn’t say anything at first but wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down closer to you, to place a deep kiss on his lips.

Pulling apart, he rested his forehead on yours. “Let’s get inside before you catch a cold.” You told him, pushing him inside the house.

Tessa barked and ran to you and a large smile made it’s way to your face. “Tess! I missed you!” You greeted the dog, crouching down to her level. Tom smiled at the sight, feeling as if everything was back to normal.

“Y/N,” Tom started, causing you to turn to face him. He offered you his hand, which you took, to help you up from your crouched position. “I will never make you feel unimportant again. I am so sorry.” He said. You gave him a warm smile before kissing him gently.

“I know. It’s okay.” You replied. “I love you, Y/N. With everything I have.” He told you. “And I love you.” You said, the two of you plus Tessa cuddling on the couch for the night.