#rare pairs about

[jomiddlemarch]

Each be other’s comfort kind

In some ways, Jem found being married to Mary née Vance was the easiest thing in the world.

To begin with, if he ever referred to her as Mary née Vance, she cuffed him lightly on the shoulder before she rolled her eyes and then drew him back down for a kiss. 

He’d learned the only place to refer to her as Mary née Vance was their bed.

Which he must refer to simply as their bed, not their marriage-bed or anything of a similar high-falutin’ tone which she would accept from his mother and tolerate from Rilla and would otherwise laugh at almost merrily.

As someone not much given to flights of fancy well before the War had made him watch his friends and fellow soldiers gassed and killed, his brother gone without the chance of a farewell, his mind and body scarred in ways he knew as a physician would never fully heal, he found Mary’s unmitigated pragmatism as refreshing as water in the desert.

It also put his father at ease, as Dad said Mary reminded him not a little of his own mother, though Mary was notably less concerned with the vast quantity of pie the Doctors Blythe could consume of an evening, and her piecrust was arguably the equal of Susan Baker’s, though they’d all agreed not to utter such heresy at Ingleside.

In the privacy of their non-marriage, most ordinary bed, with its soft white linens and goose-feather pillows, Jem was free to tell Mary her pastry was actually better than Susan’s, as she had a lighter hand and her piecrust never once reflected any sense of consternation or outrage over some doings in Glen St. Mary, which could not be said of Susan’s best tarts.

Mary was practical and matter of fact. She had a good head for accounts and was far more intelligent that he, any of the Blythes or Merediths (with the exception of Carl) had ever given her credit for. It was easy to discuss the running of his practice and the economic advantages posed by a move to one of the larger towns, the intellectual stimulation offered by hospital work.

Mary did not worry about leaving Mrs. Marshall Elliott behind and she did listen when Jem spoke of his mother’s broken heart with oblique allusions to Walter’s death and more direct remarks about Shirley’s move to Montreal. Even more, she was willing to allow his mother precedence in ways Faith Meredith would never have countenanced. 

(Who knew what Faith would truly have countenanced? She’d eloped with Bertie Shakespeare Drew shortly after their mutual return from England and had immediately bobbed the golden-brown hair Walter had once referred to as her crowning glory in a sonnet Jem was never meant to see.)

Mary was patient and funny, an impossibly good mimic. She had a seemingly infinite supply of riddles and could curse a blue streak with the fishermen down in the harbor, who respected Young Doctor Blythe all the more for his sharp-tongued wife.

She complained very little, never as much as she ought about what mattered most, and only to the degree she would amuse him about things that didn’t matter at all. 

She was never troubled by his nightmares, by being woken by Jem clutching her tightly, his tears falling onto her neck, salt on his lips when he kissed her.

Mary liked to be read to of an evening, but not poetry. She liked Dickens, which didn’t surprise him, and Eliot, which did. She liked mysteries the best, pulp, which made him chuckle, and Lupin instead of Holmes, but she didn’t press him on nights when anything French was the door opened to memories he couldn’t bear.

She was warm, save for her cold feet. She’d tuck them against his shins and it wasn’t like anything else in the whole world.

She was reliable, steady, quick to take his side. Quick to see his side, even before he did. 

She was pretty and she didn’t count it worth much, without any of the vanity of any of the Blythe women.

She was eminently, exceptionally lovable—except that she was difficult to love.

She shrugged off praise.

She didn’t care for ornaments or nosegays, perfume or sweets or what Rilla called a stunning new cloche just the exact color of blackberry fool. 

She looked after him and their home so well, there was little left for him to do.

He was at a loss, one she was aware of and found entertaining, when Rilla remarked one day how much Rosemary Meredith’s new cat reminded her of Mary.

Then he knew.

Mary liked to have a cup of tea made just so, with plenty of milk.

She liked to end the day sitting with her stocking feet tucked up under her.

She liked to have her hair stroked, even if his hand trembled, which stopped much sooner when he was paying all his attention to the silkiness of her fair hair and the delicate skin at her temple, her throat.

She liked to sleep early on cold winter nights.

And sometimes, when they were together in the shadows, she liked to be called Puss. She liked it exceedingly well.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Regulus: James is going to take me to miniature golf tonight

Sirius: Oh! Well, I guess for you, that’s like regular golf

Regulus: Short jokes? Really, Sirius? You’re, like, a quarter of an inch taller than me

Sirius: Yeah, and don’t you forget it

[shyhandart]

wives

[its-a-me-mango]

Ah yes my favourite coffee shop workers, they should be allowed to shoot any annoying customers.

[waitineedaname]

not romantic or platonic but a secret third thing (bonded pair)

[charles-leclerc-official]

Omg it's rpf Monday! Stop what you are doing and start talking about rpf immediately

[aecholapis]

October 18th - Prime and Protector

Tarn / Optimus Prime

For the @tfrarepairing fest 2024

[hppjmxrgosg]

to all the fanfic writers who write about small, niche tropes and random crossovers that have less than a thousand works total and rarepairs and one specific vein content so that despite the master pieces you write you only get a couple hundred hits: you are doing god's work. i am kissing you on the head. you are my lifeblood.

edit since its getting lost in the tags: the thousand works comment is not to minimize the people who write for subgenres with maybe 10 works or rairpairs with like 3 works, but to include people who, while garnering more attention than the former, may still feel disheartened for receiving less attention on their work than people who write for megafandoms or very common tropes. 1000 is more than ten, but 1000 is closer to 10 than 200,000.

[mirensiart]

me at myself: please stop shipping rare pairs that no one ships, and also, please stop putting your greedy lesbian hands over your favorite female characters

me, not listening, making ilia×tp!zelda and ruto×sheik/oot!zelda kiss like barbie dolls: huh? did you say something?

[syrupfog]

It’s emoji time again

[daddiesdrarryy]

Hermione: Like any other 11 year old girl, all I wanted to do was sit in my room alone reading books on history of magic

Pansy: Every story about your childhood makes me so sad, darling

Hermione: Then one day on the way to math camp—

Pansy: Oh, even sadder

[skipar00]

gay people

[touchlikethesun]

part of what makes brazil so special in my mind is not only did oikawa show up right when hinata needed him to, but meeting hinata there when he did also healed something in oikawa, something that had been hurting for years. do you- do you get it? they both saved each other then. they both needed the other in that moment and no one else could have filled that role… don’t you get it… oikawa saved hinata and hinata saved oikawa they both got what they needed when they needed it

[bumblingbabooshka]

Was thinking about how Janeway does NOT seem like a person who'd wear a silky little pink nightgown to bed which ended with me thinking about how it'd be SO funny if Tuvok & Janeway inexplicably had matching pajama sets. They don't go to each other's rooms that often and it's rare for anyone to visit either of them (specifically Tuvok) after hours so no one really notices except one night Chakotay (who's seen Janeway in her pajamas during 'Resolutions') has to get Tuvok to sign off on something and sees he's wearing the exact same pair. Now Chakotay is sitting in silence in his own room like 'WHY do they have matching pajamas??????'