*floods room with tears*

Recently found this on Facebook and it sums up my hate for people who breed these dogs perfectly.
Imgur: The most awesome images on the Internet.
By Imgur

This is AMAZING!

For those who can’t go to the link, the following is what it says:

FYI, none of this is mine. It was posted by Bilton veterinary centre, the same one as in the picture. All credit goes to them but I felt it was important to get word out about some of the breeds of dogs that are riddled with health problems. If you own a pug that’s perfectly healthy that’s cool, but it’s doesn’t change the fact that an alarming number of short nosed (almost no nosed at this point) dogs have extreme difficulty with tasks like breathing and blinking.

 "So I am going to have a rant now and I apologise in advance if this upsets anyone, but here goes.

   Last week, I managed to reduce a lovely family to floods of tears.  They had brought their new dog in to come and see me.  There was a young lady, her husband and their two children of about 8 or 9 years old and they were all already absolutely besotted with their new pet - their first dog, and they had been planning it for several years.

   The dog was a 5-month-old French Bulldog that they had picked up from a breeder about 4 weeks previously.  They were concerned that their new dog may have “a chill” as the dog had sore runny eyes,  difficulty in eating and kept making a choking sound.  They had also noticed the dog had a “funny smell” about him. As I examined the dog it became quickly apparent what was occurring and my heart sank.

  This dog was yet another increasingly popular “short-nosed” breed that was suffering horribly from a myriad of problems - all related to its poor breeding and its unfortunate anatomy. After the examination, I found that this dog had: 

 - Eyeballs too big for its eye sockets. So much so, that when he blinked, the eyelids didn’t fully cover the eyeballs.  (Imagine going out on a windy day and not being able to blink!) This had resulted in deep painful ulcers forming on both eyes that in the short term would require intensive treatment and could feasibly result in the rupture of one or both eyeballs. 

  - The bones forming the front of his face (the maxilla) were so squashed by virtue of this style of this breed (called the brachycephalics), that the soft-tissue structures of the throat are compressed and forced backwards -  obstructing his larynx.  Amongst other things, his soft palate was so elongated (relative to his skull) that it kept getting trapped over his wind-pipe.

 -His nostrils were completely occluded, so absolutely no airflow was possible through his nose.  All of his breathing had to take place through his open mouth.  This meant that whilst he was eating/sleeping he was going through bouts of asphyxiation and so would have to spit the food out or wake up and open his mouth - purely so he would be able to breathe.  This explained the “choking” sound that there were hearing all the time.  He could just manage to breathe with his mouth open, but this then exacerbated the problems with his soft palate.

 - The skin fold over the top of the nose (caused by the squashed face involuting the skin) had caused a crevice of around 2-3 cms deep, where the skin was rubbing against its self.  In this area, the skin was ulcerated and was full of liquid pus.  It was this that the owners were smelling.  This was incredibly painful for the animal and he cried every time I tried to clean it.

 -The skin around his feet, ears, armpits and groin was red raw and inflamed.   He clearly was very itchy and had been licking at these areas repeatedly - which had, in turn, made them more sore and painful.  This is very typical of a condition called “atopy” which is very common in many breeds, particularly the Bulldogs (French and English). So at this point, the shocked owners asked what needed to be done to sort him out.

  So I had to explain that he would need: 

 - Bilateral eyelid shortening surgery that would allow the dog to blink properly and prevent further ulcers from forming.  As well as long-term medication to improve the quality of his tears.

 - Complex soft tissue surgery of the back of the throat to, (amongst other things) shorten his soft palate to facilitate his breathing.

 - He would need both of his nostrils opening up so as to allow adequate air flow to be possible to allow him to breathe/exercise/eat/sleep properly.

 -He would need a “face-lift” to remove a large amount of excess skin on the front of his face, to try and open up the fold that was causing so much infection and pain.

 -He may need allergy testing, food trials, anti-inflammatories etc to try and manage the atopic skin disease that he has. 

 *He needs all of this fairly urgently.  

 *He can’t have all of this done at once and so will require several anaesthetics and complex procedures to be done over a period of time.   

*He is only 5 months old. 

*He needs all of this doing - just so that he can live a vaguely normal life.   


 Also - he is not insured.  It transpired that the new owners looked into insurance but the premium was so high for this breed, that they felt they couldn’t afford it.  To move forward, he would have to go to a specialist veterinary unit (sadly recently set up to deal with the increasing number of very poorly brachycephalic dogs with extreme conformational issues) and this treatment could cost upwards of £8,000 to correct.

 Once I had discussed all this with the owners - they were understandably distraught.  They had hoped for a “cute” and “cuddly” family pet that they had seen examples of spread throughout popular media.  They had no idea that these problems even existed.  Instead, they now have a much-loved dog that is miserable, has a long journey ahead of it and one that they cannot afford to have fixed.

 The family left the room in floods of tears, armed with medication that would temporarily alleviate some of the symptoms and try to make the poor little dog more comfortable.  From what I have later found out, this dog has gone to a rescue centre to be rehomed.  It may have moved away, but its problems most certainly will not have done.

 Pugs, Frenchies, English Bulldogs and Shar-Peis are amongst the breeds which are increasingly being abandoned in vast numbers as people cannot cope with their ongoing problems, illnesses and costs.  It upsets us all hugely when we see how many of the problems frequently associated with these breeds are now classed as “normal”. I will commonly hear “Oh it is normal for this breed to struggle with A, B or C”. NO IT ISN’T NORMAL!

 These trendy flat-faced breeds are some of the most expensive puppies to currently buy.  There is serious money for people who sell a litter of these puppies and so the incentive to breed is VERY high.  It must be said that there are responsible breeders who are trying to “back-breed” these types of dogs to have longer noses, smaller eyes, more open nostrils etc and try to reduce the incidence of these conditions, and these people should be applauded.  However, puppy farms and irresponsible owners are rife, and these “breeders” don’t seem to care a jot about the long-term prognosis and what the future holds for “their” breed. 

 It is also worth noting that many of these breeds are unable to give birth naturally now too (due to the shape of the puppy’s skulls) and so the mothers often go through multiple caesareans… 

 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STOP AND THINK before you buy.  Come and talk to US about the breeds that you are interested in - and we shall give you the whole picture.

 I am completely exhausted and totally demoralised seeing these type of problems on a daily basis.  There are enough horrible illnesses, diseases and potential accidents out there without being destined to be unwell before you are even born.

   Whilst people are still buying these dogs, people will still breed them and the problem will never go away.“

Dear Evan Hansen Soundtrack Summarized
  • Anybody Have A Map: Wait how do you parent
  • Waving Through A Window: Tears and loneliness
  • For Forever: If I had friends
  • Sincerely Me: We're not gay we swear
  • Requiem: You were a douche and I'm happy you're dead
  • If I Could Tell Her: I said it but he said it
  • Disappear: I'm lonely so I'm gonna make a foundation dedicated to some dead kid
  • You Will Be Found: If you weren't crying you are now
  • To Break In A Glove: I got a new dad with the power of shaving cream
  • Only Us: Quit focusing on my dead brother and kiss me
  • Good For You: Screw you for being happy
  • Words Fail: Well I done messed up
  • So Big/So Small: I wasn't there for you before but I'm here now so love me!!!
  • Finale: The room is flooded with tears and that's okay

“What’s your favourite type of character? The type you look up to? Or even the kind you wish to marry?”


Girls with stars in their eyes and dragon-fire in their bellies.
Girls with pained lives whose smiles outshines the Moon herself.
Girls whose laughter is like bubbles spilling out of their throats.
Girls who have exhaustion written on every feature but persist anyway.

Girls who are carved from marble having experienced too much to cry anymore.
Girls who form waterfalls and flood rooms with their tears.
Girls who go on adventures high on wanderlust, danger, and nature.
Girls who rather stay at home and don’t mess with any ‘hero’ prophecies outside of creating them in worlds of fiction.

Girls with gold and silver magic flowing molten hot through their veins.
Girls who love and live so freely they seem to turn into wind before your eyes
Girls who trust very little and have dulled locks on their lips that only few have the key for.
Girls who sing as smoothly as a siren’s call luring you willingly into their soothing, blanketing embrace

Girls who scream at the top of their lungs for what they believe in, voices resembling sonic shockwaves more than symphonies but beautiful in it’s discord nonetheless.

Girls who can barely raise their voices above a whisper, with storms full of lightning, wind, and thunder all brewing inside them that could level cities.

Girls who are beaten, bloody, and bruised but still spits hatred right back into life’s eye and laughs, keeping within them a kindness and empathy that flourishes through their rage.

Girls who are knocked to the ground and stay down, almost tragically beautiful in their spun-glass fragility, believing themselves to be beaten but still refusing to be shattered, with golden tears freely streaming down their battered cheeks and bruises resembling galaxies in their vastness - they are simply bidding their time until they can get up again, although some of them don’t know it yet.

“But I know girls like that, they aren’t just characters, girls are real.”
And that’s why they’re my favourite.


Girls Are My Favourite by Beq (me)

the most relatable thing to happen to any disney character is when alice literally flooded a room with her tears and then moments later was completely dry-eyed floating in a bottle saying “oh dear i wish i hadn’t cried so much” 


The words came flying out of my brain and onto my computer.  No control whatsoever. 

Literally someone stab me it would hurt less than the feels that this is giving me. 


(and it’s not even holding hands, its barely touching fingers)

I need someone to hold me because I am being dragged down the McKirk hole.  Please.  Have mercy.  

Panic Cord pt.2 (Tom Holland x Reader)

Hey, Lovebugs! a lot of you requested for the second part of Panic Cord so here you go!

Originally posted by lovershub

“I’ll see you at home,” he says quietly, obviously disappointed and sad that you’re leaving. You step forward into his arms and wrap yours around his waist, placing your head on his chest. He kisses your hair.

“See you at home.” you say.

“I love you,” he adds as you are walking away.

You don’t say it back.

It has been a week since the premiere and Tom can count the number of words you’ve spoken to him on one hand. Ignoring the hums and grunts of acknowledgment, you’ve only spoken to him twice. He notices how your clouded eyes are bloodshot and puffy in the mornings. He can hear you trying to be silent as your tears flood the room. He has stood outside the bedroom door with a hand on the doorknob, trying to find an excuse to go in before he either gives up and goes to bed or slumps down beside the door with his head on his knees. He tries his hardest to monitor your sleeping schedule through the thin wall separating what was once his and your room, and the guest room he is now occupying. He insisted that you stayed put. He has tried to help in any way he can but you never say or do anything to show him you’re hurting. You’re silent, you’re tired, and he has run out of things to do. He cries himself to sleep now too.

Tonight, however, is different. You’re watching a movie on the couch, snuggled up in your duvet. Tom walks into the room from the kitchen and gazes at you. You don’t seem happier, per say, but you seem less empty. He finds that to be a little win. He goes back into the kitchen and gets you a cup of tea. 

The lounge is hard to navigate without any light other than the television, but he finds his way. The cup of tea acts as a peace offering because you take it hesitantly with a little upturn of your lips before pulling your feet closer to yourself. He sits next to you and you place your duvet-covered ankles on his lap. 

The movie continues playing and Tom watches how the screen reflects off your iris’, giving them a life he used to see daily when you’d explain a new theory you’d found online. When you blink, your eyes stay closed for a long time; your long, dark lashes almost grazing your cheekbones. He thinks he can see remnants of mascara below your eyes, but there’s a possibility that’s just the dark bags. He sees the slope of your nose, the freckles on your cheeks, the arch of your cupids bow. He likes watching you when you’re this close to sleep. You look peaceful.

You’re tired because you haven’t slept a lot since the premiere. You don’t know why you’re not speaking to Tom. You love him too, you know you do, you just can’t say it yet. He doesn’t notice that you put your feet on his lap but he subconsciously goes to massage them. You like snuggling into his chest because you can hear his heartbeat. You’ve never told him why you sleep on the side closest to the door, yet he always lets you sleep there. He doesn’t mind when you pull the covers from his side of the bed or when you accidentally hit him in the middle of the night. He doesn’t mind that you haven’t said I love you back, and that makes you love him even more.

The movie ends and Tom turns off the tv. “Tom,” you say with a croaky voice. He understands before you can say anything else and crawls from one side of the couch to lie down behind you. An arm over your waist, fingers intertwined with yours laying above your heart. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Y’know,” he says after a few moments of silence, “ I want you to know that I didn’t say “I love you” to hear it back. I said it to make sure you knew.” You sigh happily and huddle even closer to his body before placing your head in the crook of his neck. You place delicate kisses along his jawline and down his neck to his collarbone. “I love you,” you whisper into his skin. His strong arms pull you on top of him, your legs bent either side of his waist. He leans to kiss you before you lay your head on his chest and fall asleep, only to wake up together in the morning. You wake up like that many times from that point onward.

@literature-loving-girl @lghockey @oi-fandomhigh @mrsemmaevans @shadowstark @beautifuljew4 @da-real-hijabis-of-illea @gabrielad16 @castellandiangelo @girlwith100names @lovespriyanka @animexchocolate

Please leave a comment if you like the series and/or if you want another part!

Travelin’ Soldier Part 5

Summary: Reader is currently deployed in the army to an undisclosed combat area. She has been deployed for nearly two years. Anxiously awaiting her return is her husband and brother as they film for Supernatural. Letter comes informing the family that she may not be heard from for awhile and soon devastating news comes. In italic bold in the story is lyrics.

Characters: husband!Jensen x reader, Jared x Reader (twins), Gen, Shepherd, Thomas, Baby Padalecki, and Misha

Words: 2550

Disclaimer: I do not own the title of the song Travelin’ Soldier by the Dixie Chicks at all even with the minor change of lyrics to fit the story. I simply thought it could be a little fighting. Not hate towards Danneel either, as this is simply fiction and not real. I do not own any songs in this either.

Warnings: possible swearing, war, mention of death, mention of torture, a lot of angst as usual, and fluff

Author: Caitsy

Tagging a few at the end. Send an ask to be tagged, or request something.

A/N:  Once more Ash and I want to thank you for supporting us. Also I was going to write this on Friday night but I was involved in a minor car accident so by the time I got home I was exhausted.

Master List

Prompt List


The box sat in the drawer most of the time awaiting for the time it would come out. It was huge decision that in his opinion was more heavier than asking someone not in her career. He lost count of how long the box was there but he knew it would be empty soon. He loved her, that’s for sure but it’s a huge commitment to ask someone who’s life is always at risk. She would find it if it was in their apartment so he kept it in his trailer in Canada. He held it in his hand playing with the box.

“Hey Jensen! They need you!” Jared exclaimed opening the door to his trailer. Jensen shoved the box back into the back of the drawer as a shocked Jared stood there, “Is that what I think it was?”

“Pfft no.” Jensen waved the question off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Well that diamond must be something.” Jared raised one eyebrow. He crossed his arms leaning against the wall beside the open door. The cool breeze came into the trailer.

“Shut up.” Jensen muttered, “I haven’t asked your dad for his blessing.”

“Wow. You do know he’s been nervously waiting for when you’ll propose?” Jared asked, “My parents love you J. I swear they love you more than they love me!”

“Not possible.” Jensen mumbled picking at a loose thread on his character’s plaid shirt.

“I’m serious. You’re the first of my sister’s boyfriends that gained the entire trust of my family.” Jared sighed, “Since she first got news of deployment her boyfriend dumped her fast. They were dating for six months I think and he wouldn’t accept that she was more willingly to get her hands dirty than him.”

“I never knew that.”

Keep reading

12.15 Coda / Word Count: 1578

Something had been off about the phone call.  Dean didn’t know what but he could tell Cas was holding something back.  He had no claim to the angel.  He knew that.  Hell, Cas had almost died and Dean couldn’t even say that he loved him back.  He just stood there helpless and stupefied.  And just because Castiel was holding back didn’t mean something bad was happening…right? Things were bound to be strange between them for a little while.  Those three words come at a high price.

Dean tried to put the thoughts from his mind.  A week passed and Castiel hadn’t returned his texts.  Which was fine, he didn’t always respond right away. But Dean couldn’t reason away how his stomach twisted with nausea.  A week and three days and still nothing.  Dean tried fruitlessly to call him but it kept going to voicemail.  

“Cas.”  The name came out more tearful then Dean meant for it to.  “Cas - call me please or text.  Just let me know you’re okay.”  A few beats of silence passed. Dean let out a sigh.  He wanted to say ‘I love you too, you idiot, please be okay.’ but for all he knew Cas was fine and he was worrying over nothing. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Besides he didn’t want the first time he said it to Cas to be on a voice mail.  “Call me, please.” There was no mistaking that Dean was on the verge of tears.  Cas would be able to hear it in his voice, if he was okay.

He spent the nights pacing in the library.  He and Sam were currently without a case and he was too frantic to lose himself to Netflix.  He hadn’t slept in two nights.  He finally broke down and got himself flat on his ass drunk.  He hated it.  He knew it was stupid, but dammit he needed sleep.  He could feel the whiskey spreading down the back of his throat to his extremities.  He became increasingly aware of how heavy his arms were.  It burned warm in his stomach and mingled with the fatigue.  He barely landed face down on his mattress before falling deep asleep.  

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been passed out but it felt like a long time.  He didn’t feel rested but at least his body would be able to function.  The room was dark except for where is alarm clock beamed across the room.  He couldn’t make out the numbers, his vision still blurry with sleep.  That’s when Dean heard it.  A sound he hadn’t heard in a long time.  The flutter of wings and the slight breeze on the back of his neck.  His heart was in his throat.  Castiel hadn’t had his wings, since he’d been cut off from heaven.  Was he dreaming?  Worse yet, was it another angel…someone besides Cas?

“Cas?”  Dean barely whispered the name.  His eyes filled with bewilderment as he rolled over to see the angel, cloaked in his trench-coat, broad black wings tucked behind him in place where they should always be.  “Cas.”  Dean cried out with relief at seeing him.  He tugged on his trench-coat. “Cas - your wings - how?  Am I dreaming?”  Castiel beamed a smile at Dean the likes that Dean had never quite seen.  

“You’re not dreaming. Dean.”  Castiel slipped his hand into Dean’s and held it.  

“Well - are you dead or something, what’s going on?  I thought you were cut off from heaven?”

“I’m not dead, Dean. They let me back in.  They said if I agreed to help them hunt down this child, this nephilim - they could reinstate me.  I could come and go as I please.”  

Dean’s face fell sullen and Castiel did not understand why.

“You’re fighting for heaven again…after everything?”  Dean’s words were coming out like accusations.

“It’s not like that Dean.  It’s not like it used to be.  Everything has changed since God and Amara and everything that happened.  Things aren’t perfect but I have my wings.”  

Dean dropped Castiel’s hand in disdain and turned away from him sitting up on the other side of the bed.  

“Dean, why are you angry?  I thought you of all people would be happy for me.”

“Why would I be happy Cas?  Answer me this - one of them came to you and said they could take you to heaven and reinstate you…how could you be sure that they weren’t lying…weren’t just using you again…weren’t going to get you to heaven to smite you or imprison you or brainwash you to fight against us…how did you know?”  

Dean was shouting now and his chest was heaving and he could feel the alcohol sloshing around in his belly.  He was still intoxicated.

“Answer me.”  He commanded.

“ I didn’t know for sure Dean, but I - I had to try.” Cas began to stammer. “I was already hunting the nephilim…I didn’t see the harm…if I could get my wings back.”

“And you couldn’t bother to let us know…to let me know - what you were thinking…what you were doing.  You couldn’t bother to say - by the way I’m going to heaven - I don’t know if I’ll ever be back…Cas you know better than anyone that they are a bunch of mind-controlling, back stabbing dicks who don’t care about you…they only care about what you can do for them.”  

Dean was propped up against his dresser pinching the bridge of his nose.  

“I’m sorry that I didn’t stop to consider how this might affect you Dean, but I honestly did not think it would matter that much to you one way or the other.”  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  

“I told you I loved you Dean.  I was clear about what I meant.  I could see it in your eyes. You knew and you couldn’t look at me afterwards.  We spent the next few days tiptoeing around each other in awkward silence.  I knew it was possible that I would go to heaven and it would have all been a lie but at least I wouldn’t be here to torment you…and if I went to heaven and got my wings back I could be of better use to you.”  

Dean audibly scoffed.

“Seriously - Dean - I’m not a hunter like you.  I’m not good at being human…I’m not good at being half angel.  I’m a burden - I’m someone you have to watch die.  I’m no use to you.”  A few beats passed.  Dean’s seething anger was palpable in the air.  Cas broke the silence.  “I’ll go then…it’s for the best…”  His wings seemed to spread in slow motion as he prepared to vanish before Dean’s eyes.  

“You shut your stupid mouth…”  Dean crossed the room in a few long strides.  He jerked Castiel up off the bed by his trench-coat smashing their lips together in a kiss which seemed more infused with anger than affection.  Castiel froze as Dean did his best to bruise his lips. His knees buckled from the emotion and the effects of the whiskey. Castiel pulled him into his strong arms and they collapsed backwards against the bed.  Dean clawed into Castiel’s coat and crawled onto his lap. He smoothed his hands around to tangle them in Cas’ feathers.  He knew that Cas was letting him see them, that Cas was proud of them and he should be they were beautiful.  

Castiel let out a whimper into Dean’s mouth.  He relaxed in Dean’s embrace wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close.  Something seemed to break inside of Dean.  “I’m sorry Cas…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have yelled at you…of course you deserve a chance to be whole…to have your wings…please don’t leave me…please…”  The whole room went black as tears flooded Dean’s eyes.   Before Dean knew what was happening, Castiel had engulfed them both in his wings.  

“I won’t leave you Dean.  Shh…Shh…”  Castiel rocked him gently.  

Dean was sniveling like a small child his words were coming out broken between sobs.  “Just - what if - what if it was a lie - and I wouldn’t know what happened to you…I wouldn’t know how to find you…”   Castiel smoothed a thumb under his eyes to wipe away the tears.  “

“You’re my angel. You hear me…you’re mine and it may be selfish…I know I’m no catch - but dammit you belong to me - not heaven - that’s not your home - I’m your home and I may be some emotionally constipated asshole whose longest and healthiest relationship has been with a car but tell me now if you don’t want this - if you don’t want me - because I can’t bear to lose you again.  I’ve got to know - tell me now if you’re mine?”

Dean’s chest heaved and his cheeks were flushed.  

“Of course I’m yours.” Castiel peppered featherlight kisses all across Dean’s face, murmuring words of affirmation between each peck.  “I’ve always belonged to you, Dean always.”  

“You’re so beautiful, Cas, your wings are so beautiful.” 

A few hours later Sam watched a groggy Dean and a rumpled Castiel saunter into the kitchen for coffee.  Sam watched as Dean stood behind Cas sipping from his coffee mug.  Something was different about Castiel, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.  He seemed to put two and two together though when he saw Dean run his fingers through the invisible wings at Cas’ back.  

“What are you looking at?” Dean bit out, still hung over.  

“Nothing…”  Sam shook his head and tried to hide his grin.  

                        Thank you for reading!  I hope you liked it! :D


@casdean91 @wanderingcas @fandom-life-alwayz @lindsayrose2016 @ships-a-lot @tardisdementor @glassofcity @fool-of-a-tardis @superport17

If you would liked to be removed or added to my tag list, please let me know.  

Nightmare (Feysand angst)

Inspired by a prompt by the lovely @sarahviehmann​ I present to you, the first non-elorcan fic I’ve ever written :P


I shook Rhysand awake, or desperately tried to. Darkness had flooded the room and it wasn’t the kind that had kissed my tears countless times, or enveloped me in a calming embrace. It was a cold, cruel darkness. The one that left you hopeless and confused, the one that you couldn’t find an end of.

“Rhys! It’s just a dream,” I yelled. “Wake UP!”

As if I had lit a candle, the darkness seemed to disappear immediately. Sucked into a vortex of no return. Rhys was now awake and lay panting while staring up at the ceiling, his eyes were unfocused and those great tattooed shoulders trembled what whatever nightmare he had just experienced.

I leaned over and laid a hand on his forehead, gently brushing back the hair that clung with cold sweat. The gesture seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, he promptly snarled at me. Snarled.

He was still not fully awake then, if he was acting so animalistic towards his mate. “Rhys…” I began, reciting words that were unfortunately far too familiar, of how we were all safe and how it wasn’t real it was just a dream. Only he didn’t let me get that far.

A growl that seemed to translate to “Go away.” Greeted me. In my surprise, I simply stared back at him. Baffled by this alien response to my care.

“Unless you’ve suddenly gone hard of hearing darling, I believe I requested you to leave me alone.” That cool, serpentine voice. That mask of indifference and slight distaste. I’d seen both countless times when we dealt with the Court of Nightmares or Fae from the other courts of Prythian. But never once had they been directed towards me.

I couldn’t help but gape blindly as he simply rolled over and faced the wall of our room. As if he hadn’t just given his mate and wife the same treatment as some mere court dweller beneath him.


There was a tightness in my chest when I numbly walked towards my previous room in our townhouse. I knew this. This feeling of being pinched from the inside, right between my breasts. Thankfully I wasn’t too accustomed to it. But I remembered it clearly, since it presented itself whenever Rhysand and I fought. It didn’t matter which one of us was wrong, the feeling followed me around all day and through each task. Sometimes I had to remind myself to breathe and loosen up lest it become an actual physical ache in my chest.

I believed it was the bond having an adverse reaction towards the distance between me and him. The wrongness of us resenting each other, even for a few moments.

I curled up in my old bed, the familiarity calling and sickening me at the same time. I remembered how every time Rhys sensed the danger of me shutting him out, a wounded look crossed his features, consciously or not he would most certainly do it. And I would reassure him that it wasn’t what I was doing at all. But here I was, having the opposite done to me.

I could have been stubborn. I could have laid there and poked him right between his wings until he realized how ridiculous he was being. But somehow, I didn’t want to be playful or obstinate. I was hurt that he would do something like this. It wasn’t at all as if we denied each other personal space, or forced the other to talk about events when they weren’t ready to. But to actively (and aggressively) push me out? I had no words at all.

It was with these thoughts that I realized, my musings had led me to stay awake what was left of the night. As the sun turned the sky over Velaris a pale pink, that I always hoped to capture in my paintings, I felt a tentative tremor down the bond. A questioning brush, a hesitant nudge if you will.

I reinforced my mental shields, blocking the tiny silver in my mind I left open from him and completely detached myself from the bond.

Let’s see how he liked it.

Way Above, Where the North Winds Blow

Word count: 1,868

Summary: Dan and Phil’s son makes them sit down to tell them that she actually isn’t their son.

A/N: wow, i actually wrote something in english that wasn’t part of an event!! my swedish ass is getting better at this :o also thanks to @vanillasolitude for looking this over, vv helpful (y)

this story kind of means a lot to me because this is the way i wish my parents reacted when i came out :[ (don’t kill them they’re fine now) and even though this only took like three days to write (which is a really short time if you’re a procrastinator with concentration problems), i put a lot of heart into it :3 enjoy!

CW: Deadname-ing, misgendering

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took a break from commissions to draw trans yams aka my daughter who is a gift to this world… im sad i haven’t drawn her in a while…

i uploaded a (slightly more) coloured version on my twitter, but i ended up liking this sketch more o)-< also, this is my trans headcanon, so please don’t tag this as a genderbend or a cisswap or anything of that nature! thank you!!

anonymous asked:

How do you think Michael and Sara's reunion will play out?

oh dear anon. i love/hate this question. because while i know a lot about how some things will play out (i followed filming very closely and know some people who know stuff that have told me things) i actually know practically nothing about how things will play out with michael and sara. which is how i know the powers that be want it to be, they want all the michael and sara stuff to stay super under wraps. but this is what i think will happen. all of what i’m about to say is complete speculation and not based on any knowledge of anything. 

so the thing i debate most on with myself is where the reunion will actually happen. right now, i kind of think she’s going to end up heading to yemen. i’m unsure if she’ll fly or if she’ll take a boat with sucre (remember, he said he works on a cargo ship, i think that’s how linc and michael will end up getting out of yemen since michael will be a fugitive and linc gave up his passport. plus sucre would do anything for his papi) but anyway. i think she’ll end up going to HIM, mike will stay with jacob (which is not gonna be a good thing, that’s probably when he’ll show his true evil colors), and they’ll meet back up on sucre’s cargo ship. past that, if she doesn’t leave the states, i safely assume michael will immediately want to head to her (and her to him), so it’ll be somewhere in new york, maybe at a hotel? idk, the setting isn’t super important, just as long as it happens, right?

so for the actual REUNION…. i think it’ll actually be a pretty low key thing. and the reason i say that is because fox released a promo that had this image in it:

and i don’t know why, but i’ve always thought that this is the first time she’s seeing him. her face is the perfect mix of relieved and sad, and that’s very obviously michael lying in front of her. so possibly he’s hurt and asleep and she comes in and sees him first and it’s this very subtle, tender moment with her just being with him. he’s not even aware she’s there at first, she’s just adjusting to the fact that he’s there and she has him back. and then, of course, he’ll wake up and see her but still it won’t be this giant, sweeping romantic thing. it’ll just be this sweet little moment between the two of them. and i, of course, will flood the room with my tears because they’re back together and he never stopped loving her and she never stopped loving him and my HEART. however it happens, though… god i am ready. i have been ready for seven years. i cannot wait. 

anonymous asked:

you know in skydive when daehyun gets drunk and himchan holds his head between his hands like he's doing that "what are u? an idiot sandwich" thing and then the next scene is daehyun waking up on a couch? do u think that implies himchan carried him to the couch or...? also it was a bad idea bc if DH had started vomiting he would've choked to death not to mention risks of swallowing his own tongue, he should've been laid on his side instead

I’m sorry…Himchan carrying a drunk and distressed daehyun home???

Originally posted by realitytvgifs

Brb I just flooded my room with tears.

Also @himchan 

That's What Makes You Beautiful

Summary: After getting badly injured during a hunt, Sam and Dean save your life. Later, when you can’t see past the scars, Sam reassures you they are what make you beautiful to him.


The front door of the bunker flew open with a crash. Sam was half carrying you, half dragging you as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Cas!” Dean roared. “We need you now!”

Sam’s shirt was already soaked with your blood, and the wound in your side continued to gush.

“Y/N! Stay with me dammit!” Sam yelled.

You were trying your best to stay awake, but the searing pain in your side made that difficult. That werewolf had sunk his claws into you before Dean could get a clean shot. Sam finally managed a silver bullet to the heart, but the damage was done.

“Sammy I think maybe we should take Y/N to the hospital……she’s hurt real bad.” Dean couldn’t hold the worry back..

Your voice was barely audible.“No freaking hospital. Too many questions. Sam can stitch me up.”

Sam’s room was the closest, so he took you there. Laying you carefully on the bed, he removed your blood drenched shirt to survey the damage. The time for modesty was past.

“Where the hell is Cas?” Dean growled. “Cas we really REALLY need you!”

Sam sighed. “Dean. I don’t think he’s coming. It’s up to us. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital. Grab the first aid kit. And the whiskey.”

Sam looked at your still form on the bed. Your skin was a pale waxy gray, the deep claw marks on your side were dirt crusted and bloody. “She’s lost a lot of blood. But I think I can stitch these.“

Dean came back with the first aid kit, a fifth of whiskey, and a bottle of pills. He dropped everything on the bed. He hunched down really close to you. “Y/N? Can you look at me sweetheart?”

“Your eyes fluttered open. “Dean…..it hurts.”

“I know baby. Sammy’s gonna fix you up. I need you to take these, OK?” Dean lifted your head, put some pills in your mouth and made you take a big swig of whiskey. You coughed violently, and most of it ran down your chin.

Dean sat by your side, holding your hand. Sam threaded his needle. His hands were shaking……

“Do it.” Dean said shortly.

The sound of your screams echoed throughout the bunker.

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The Second Trial (Rhys POV)

This is the Second Trial from Chapter 40 of ACOTAR when Rhys realizes Feyre can’t read and helps her save Lucien’s life. Includes their prison cell encounter afterwards. Anyone interested in reading my Rhys POV of the First Trial can find it here: X.

Disclaimer per the usual: I take zero credit for the dialogue and ideas behind these scenes. Those belong 100% to Sarah J. Maas.


Trust Me

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what was coming.

Feyre stood in the middle of the cramped room surrounded on all sides by Amarantha and her filth like a pack of rabid wolves waiting to be unleashed. When the floor quaked and Feyre began to sink ever lower into the ground, I was nervous with anticipation and questions. The only sure thought in my mind was the fear that I wouldn’t see her ascend back up.

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Overboard - Mark Sloan x Reader

 anonymous asked:

Mark Sloan x reader where you drown but they get you before you die and Mark can’t function because he’s scared you’ll die. I FREAKING LOVE THIS BLOG!!

A/N: Anon, this request is gold, thanks for requesting and your support! I need more Mark requests <3 This similar to what happened to Mer, but a tad bit different. You may spot some familiar quotes and a little CPR action as promised ;-) BONUS: It’s really long. At least on my computer it does. I got a little carried away.


It was just another day. You were paged down to the E.R. with Meredith, Cristina, Derek, Alex and Mark. You kept your love for Mark secret, there are some things that are better when you keep them to yourself. “There was a ferry boat accident and we need you down there. The ambulance leaves in 10 minutes, grab what you can and go.” Webber tells you before you all went your separate ways.


Once you arrived on scene, you guys had to really split up. There were people everywhere, some even on the boat still. Everyone ran in different areas but you ran towards the water where a little boy stood next to his father. You knelt down to the boy. “Hi, I’m Dr. (Y/L/N). What’s your name?” You asked as you glanced at him. “I’m Josh.” You smiled as you removed your stethoscope and placed it on the man’s chest. “Okay Josh, what’s your dad’s name?” You try to focus on the heartbeat as the little boy answers your question. “Dan. But my mommy fell in the water. Her name is Valerie” You look for an injuries on Dan, before focusing on the mother. “Ok, Josh. I’m going to look for your mom in the water. If I’m not back in 5 minutes,” you started to say as you held up five fingers. “Josh, if I’m not back, go get another doctor okay? Can you do that for me?” He nods slowly, taking a minute to register what you said. “All the other doctors might be really busy so make sure you tell them that I need them okay?” He looks at you before looking around again. “I’ll be back.” You walked over to the ledge before jumping in. The water was cold and deep. You spotted the mother near the dock, holding on with one hand. You swam over to her and grabbed onto the ledge. “Ma’am, are you Valerie?” You asked her. She struggles to keep her head above the water before she nods. “You’re almost there, I can help you up. Place your foot on my shoulder and push yourself up.” She did as you instructed, however when she did, your hand slipped off your dock causing yourself to go under. This time there was no coming back up.


Little Josh wandered over to a doctor, it had been longer than 5 minutes and at that rate you wouldn’t make it much longer. He walked into a guy in a white lab coat, looking at the badge on the pocket. He tugged lightly on the doctor’s sleeve. The doctor looked down at the boy, revealing Mark’s face. “This doctor helped my daddy and my mommy but I can’t find her.” Mark got down onto the kid’s level. “I’m sure she is helping someone else. A lot of people got hurt today, bud.” Josh shook his head no. “She never came up from the water. It’s Dr. (Y/L/N).”  Mark looked out at the water before having Josh lead him over to his parents with paramedics behind him. Mark jumped in, pulling up (Y/N) who had become very pale, or even a light shade of blue. “She needs CPR!” He yelled as he laid (Y/N) down on the gurney. The gurney was rushed into the back of the ambulance with Mark sitting on the bench, looking a lifeless (Y/N). He starts to preform CPR. This was different than any other resuscitation, this was (Y/N). “No, you’re not dying. Do you hear me? You don’t die today. We’re going to have the best life, you and me. You can’t die because we’re supposed to end up together. I love you.” He mumbled, doing compressions before giving you two rescue breaths. It wasn’t too long before you reached Seattle Grace Mercy West. Mark pushed the ambulance doors open, grabbing the gurney out of the back. April, Owen and Bailey stood there in shock, expecting some other patient to come out of the back. “It’s (Y/N), you need to help her. She can’t die. You need to shock her and warm her up.” Mark tells them as he follows Owen to trauma one, but gets stopped by Jackson. “Sloan! I think it’s best you stay out here!” Mark starts to push against Jackson, then stops, realizing that Jackson was right. He sat there on the floor outside the room waiting for Owen or Bailey to come out of the room. Mark’s eyes flooded with tears, but he doesn’t let any escape. Owen came out of the room, making Mark stand up. It felt like he was in the waiting room, and he had no clue what to expect. That was the worst part. “She is alive, just unconscious. We don’t know how long it’ll take for her to wake up. Her body temperature is better than what is was, but it still isn’t normal. You can see her.” Mark felt a weight lifted off his shoulders ever so slightly. He sat by your side, your hand in his. He pressed his lips against your forehead. He mumbles the same things he did before. “You’re not dying. Do you hear me? You don’t die today. We’re going to have the best life, you and me. I love you, okay? You can’t die because we’re supposed to end up together.” You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light that was focused on you. “Mark…” You say hoarsely. “Turn off that light.” He lifts his head off your arm to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. “Hey, you’re okay.” He told you as he reached up and turned out the light. “You saved me. You said some sweet things to me. Don’t deny it either because you just said things a minute ago.” You coughed. Mark’s cheeks became a light shade of pink. He sat on the bed when he began to say something. “(Y/N),” You smile at him, and even chuckle. “Save it Sloan.” You placed your hand on the back of neck, pulling his face closer to yours. He kissed your now pink lips. “I’m glad you’re alive.” His blue eyes looked deeply into yours. “That makes both of us and I, I love you too. I still get butterflies even though I’ve seen you a hundred times. And I wouldn’t have it any other way Mark.”

anonymous asked:

8 + Daichi (but make it angsty?)

No one should ever give me this kind of power ;D I was listening to this the whole time I was writing this song. - Admin Mari

8. “You mean everything to me.”

“He’s awake.” The moment the words had slipped out of Suga’s mouth you were tripping out of bed and haphazardly fumbling around to get dressed. You shoved your fingers through your hair to comb the bed head and stumbled into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth. He was still talking, but you were hardly listening and none of his words reached your ears.

“I’m on my way right now.” You said hastily, drying your face with a towel. After his quick response, one you barely heard, you hung up and threw your phone into your purse.

It was supposed to be just another Saturday for you: wake up, get dressed, do some chores, and try to get through the rest of the day. However, the moment Suga called in the wee hours of the morning, everything had changed. Now, the adrenaline and anticipation were ringing through your veins and it felt as though everything was set on fast forward. You had a clear goal. And it took every ounce of you not to stomp on the gas pedal; you were already pushing the speed limit as it was.

The drive to the hospital was a complete blur, but you could only think of one person: Sawamura Daichi. For the past half a year, he had been staying at the hospital, under a coma after a serious accident. Every day you went to visit him, every day you thanked the heavens for not taking Daichi away from you. Other than working, sleeping, and eating, you spent most of your time by Daichi’s bedside, just holding his hand and talking to him. A part of you had always hoped and prayed that your voice would travel through the darkness of his mind and reach him. Now all that patience and diligence were finally paying off.

You took off into a run, maneuvering around other patients and medical personnel, and nearly crashing into a nurse. The route to Daichi’s hospital room was burned into the back of your mind so your legs guided you there automatically. Waiting for the elevator felt like an eternity, and the noises and bustling of the hospital were all but a distant buzz. The pounding of your heart and the rush of blood were the only things you could hear, it blocked out the world around you. There was only one thing, one person on your mind.

You thrust the door to his room open and tears flooded your eyes when they landed on the figure sitting up on the bed.       The beautiful, warm brown eyes that you had yearned to see once more were now directed at you. Attentive, tired but awake. The emotions hit you like a ton of bricks; this wasn’t a dream. All that wishing and dreaming of Daichi waking up had finally become a reality.

The hot tears slipped down your cheeks and a sob bubbled up in your chest as your heart squeezed. “D-Daichi.” You managed to sob out, stumbling towards him. You didn’t even notice Suga and Asahi standing there, didn’t notice the sad looks they gave you.

“W-who…are you?”

Almost a month passed by without a hitch before the doctors finally gave Daichi the green light to go home. He had made a lot of progress, they said, as his muscles were fully functioning again and he was back to a healthy weight. The only major concern was his amnesia and they weren’t entirely sure when he would regain his memories.

He couldn’t recall anything, and he was constantly drawing blanks. It bugged Daichi, grated at his insides. No matter how much he tried digging around the empty darkness of his mind, he couldn’t match names with any of the faces, couldn’t remember a single memory.

Then, there was you. He had seen the hurt that had flashed across your face when he couldn’t remember you. And for some reason, it had crushed him. Being unable to remember you had bothered him the most and every day he tried so hard to remember you, to the point he had tears of frustration clouding his vision. There was always a little niggling in his mind, but it was all for naught; that was the extent of his abilities. Yet, you didn’t mind. He could tell you masked up your sadness and hurt in order for him to feel at ease. You had come to visit him every day, brought him some home cooked meals. You smiled around him, showed him some pictures, and answered any questions he had. It tugged at his heart and without a doubt, he knew there had been something between you two before. Of course, he hadn’t asked and you hadn’t tried to provide him with an explanation.

The day he was released from the hospital, you and Suga had come to pick him up and drove him back to his apartment. All the while, there was that same grin on your face, one he thought was so incredibly sweet and beautiful that he couldn’t help but smile back.

Nostalgia settled in his chest as Daichi stepped through the door of his supposed apartment. It was clean and very homey with tasteful furniture and decorations. You were quiet as he carefully walked around the space and took everything in slowly.

The display of picture frames resting on one of the shelves in the living room caught his eye and he trudged over to take a closer look. There was one of a huge group wearing some sort of sports jersey and he recognized the faces because they’d all come to visit him during his stay at the hospital. This must’ve been his high school volleyball team. Another picture was of him and his family. But that wasn’t what had his attention.

He picked up the picture frame, staring at it intently. It was of you and him. It looked as though you two were on vacation somewhere and he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The both of you looked so happy and it tugged at his heartstrings. “____?” He called out softly, gesturing to photo with his other hand. The question that had been plaguing his mind since he woke up finally slipped out. “What…were we? What was– what am I to you?”

You glanced away for a second, your hands clasped behind your back. Then, you looked back at him with a soft smile and while the next words had been just as soft and quiet, he heard them loud and clear. “Y-you…you mean everything to me.”

And unknown to him, as you said that, you twisted the engagement ring resting snuggly on your finger.

Apologies- Calum Hood

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

Summary: Calum was being an asshat but makes it up to you

Warnings: Nsfw, name calling (not sexual lmao)

A/N: okay so @dirtyimaginelover94 requested this and I’m so so so sorry it’s late. I hope you like it. Much Love xx (and i’m so sorry bc im so awkward and was laughing the whole time writing this, this smut is shit soz)

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Between lies and truth

Request: Hey could I get one were the reader is a kinda small girl and her breasts are small, and when Dean turns into a demon she finds him and demon Dean says something about “why she would thing Dean would be attracted to her she looks like a child” and after Dean turns back he finds her crying or something and it’s fluffy (smut maybe?) by Anonymous

Words: 1118

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warning: smut, insults (don’t take anything serious if something matches to your body, you are beautiful), fluffy smut tho 

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