this is what i will be forever known for

10

requested: root and shaw + their endless list of skills (▰˘◡˘▰)

Kaeri’s Otayuri Fic Rec List  #1

There are so many great Otayuri fics on ao3 and I’ve… pretty much read them all haha. I wish I could include every single one I’ve read on this rec list, but then this list would probably go on forever so here are just some of my absolute favorites! Please go check them out if you have time! I promise you will love them. <3

From Almaty, With Love (ongoing, mature) by @boxwineconfession

I kid you not: as the Otayuri fanbase keeps growing, this fic will become known as THE LEGENDARY MULT-CHAPTERED SLOW BURN OTAYURI FANFIC. Because that’s exactly what it is. The characterization in this fic is unbelievably on point and Otabek and Yuri’s interactions are just so very… them. I greatly enjoy watching both of them suffer from the UST (although they are suffering no longer… heh).

run in my veins (50 sentences format, sfw) by @rovmustang

Absolutely exquisite writing. Some sentences will make you laugh, some will make you cry and all of them will make you feel like you’ve had the breath knocked out of you. I literally just stared up at my ceiling for ten minutes after reading this just contemplating the beauty of Otabek and Yuri’s relationship.

Feet first (Don’t Fall) (oneshot, mature, underage) by @gunboots

This was the first Otayuri fanfic I ever read and it just… blew me away? Otabek’s voice is so beautiful, clear and distinct, and you get the pleasure of watching both him and his relationship with Yuri grow over the years. There is underage sexual contact when Yuri is 17 (which, I would like to point out for the antis, is older than 16, Russia and Kazakhstan’s age of consent).

soldier boy, tripping over himself to win my praise (ongoing, sfw) by @thissupposedcrime 

This is a very unique fic with a semi non-linear format and a rich, engaging story! It explores Otabek and Yuri’s relationship over the span of ten years, and it’s really just… riveting.

Golden Days (oneshot, sfw) by @alcoholicrevo

The CUTEST fic you will ever have the pleasure of reading. I almost suffocated myself from muffling my screams with my pillow when the fluff got too real.

melt me down (oneshot, sfw) by @ohhotlamb

This fic is so gentle, romantic and enchanting that my heart just swelled with overwhelming love and affection for these two. Otabek is absolutely precious, and Yuri is smitten (the feeling is mutual!).

Endurance and Peach Tea (oneshot, sfw) by chapstickaddict (I don’t know their tumblr sadly)

This fic was such an emotional rollercoaster for me and I couldn’t help but drown in the wonderful feels. The ending killed me in the best way.

the naming of cats (oneshot, sfw) by @csoru

This fic cut me so deeply and made my heart bleed… But the ending plastered a nice band aid over the wound so it’s all good! All jokes aside, please go and read this fic; it’s so hauntingly beautiful that you’ll be aching from the feels for days.

on the verge of running into your arms (oneshot, sfw) by @clears-jellyfish-dress

Oh god, this fic highlights how utterly healthy, loving and caring Otabek and Yuri’s relationship is. Otabek is literally the bestest, BESTEST (I know that’s not a word but it gets my point across) friend in the world, and Yuri clearly agrees.

holding out for a hero (oneshot, sfw) by @mother-iwa-chan

I literally could not stop smiling while I read this fic. SO FREAKING SWEET AND ADORABLE AND JUST. AHHHHHH. SOMEONE HOLD ME PLEASE.

write my name on your skin (twoshot, sfw) by @altisetsky (one of my favorite blogs on tumblr btw 8D)

A refreshing spin on the soulmate AU trope! Ah, Yuri’s pining is just so freaking adorable to read…

down for the count, and I’m drownin’ in ‘em (oneshot, sfw) by @unhookingstarswithoutpermission

This fic killed me? Yeah, I just cannot get over how tender, loving and supportive Otabek and Yuri are to one another!

If the sparks didn’t glow (we would know) (oneshot, sfw) by @slumbrslumbrs

This fic made me smile so hard my face hurt. Everyone is so protective of Yuri, but Otabek is the best and purest bro. :)

Please go and kudos all of these lovely fics! Also, please, PLEASE comment if you can; all these writers deserve so much love, support and praise for their hard work.

A huge thank you to all the writers on this list (and all fanfic writers in general) for sharing their beautiful creations with us! I love and appreciate you guys so much <3

8

“ I have known what you truly are since the day we met. Long may you reign. “

2

Original or requested: Original

Pairing: Paul x Reader

Word count: 690


“You’ve lost your mind.” You feel so nervous that a laugh escapes your mouth. “He’s my friend! He’s just a friend! Is that so hard to understand? ”

“Yes, because he loves you!”

“He doesn’t love me, Paul! I’ve known him since forever.” You sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds to try to calm down.

Paul freaked out when you told him you spend the day with Dean, an old friend. He came from Canada to see you since it’s been two years you’re living here in Forks.

“You’re naive. You’ve always been naive and you can’t see what I can!” Paul is shaking, just like he’s just about to shift. You’re not scared. You were never scared of his temper.

“I am smart enough to understand these things, Paul.”

“I don’t think so since you’re apparently on his side.”

“I won’t stop talking to him just because you’re jealous.” Picking up your phone, you text your friend Marilyn. She’s the only one who can help you with this kind of problems.

“Don’t.” Paul takes the phone from your hands, throwing it at the wall. Shocked by his action, you gasp, trying not to punch him and break your damn arm. “You won’t text him.”

“I WAS TEXTING MARILYN!” You yell, running to your bedroom. You start to pack your things while Paul tries to make you stop. “I’m done. If you don’t trust me then there’s no reason for me to stay. I love Dean like a friend and I love you because you’re the love of my life. Not my fault you can’t understand it.”

“(Y/N), I’m still talking. Be rational and finish this conversation like an adult. ” The tone of his voice is rude and it breaks your heart.

“I’m still leaving.”


“I need you to stop crying and explain to me what happened.” Marilyn gives you some ice cream so you can eat something while you cry your heart out.

“I told him I wanted he to think about us. But he told me he didn’t need to think. Then I told him I needed to think. Do you really think I would break up with him?”

“I’m still confused.” Always so damn honest, Marilyn takes a deep breath.

“It’s about Dean!” You shout, making your friend jump on the couch.

“Oh. Got it. But Paul loves you so much and I can understand him. He’s scared to lose you.”

“He’s the love of my life. I already told him that a million times!”

“I’m sure you did, but how would you act if he spent a whole day with a woman? Even if she’s just a friend of his? A whole day alone with her while you stay home.”

You put the ice cream down to think. Well, to rethink. Maybe, just maybe, this is kinda your fault. Paul wouldn’t freak out if he went with you. And no, you wouldn’t like him to spend all that time with a friend.

“Shit.”

“Yes, shit. I’m not saying you have to apologize, but I do can imagine how he felt.”

“I love him, Mary. So much.” You whisper, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“Call him.”

And that’s what you do. Fearing that he may be rude to you like he did earlier, you patiently wait for him to answer the phone. When he finally answers, you both keep silent. Hearing his breath is enough to make you want to be with him again and this desire takes your breath away. You barely feel it, this weird pain in your chest, since you’re always together, but you just can’t take it.

“Paul…”

“(Y/N), you have no idea how it hurts. Being away from you is… too painful.”

“I know, Paul, I… I’m sorry. I love you. No one but you.” With a smile on your lips, you help Marilyn to pack up your things again. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Whenever I want to see Dean you can come. I didn’t know how much it hurt you.”

“I’m coming to bring you home. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Poor young trolls; how horryfing! I agree, Toby. It’s devastating. Precious lil baby ARRRGH and other kidnapped trolls like him, separated from their families, used against their will, irreversibly harmed forever!

Oh my word, that is equally horrifying! Why, it’s just as traumatic as what happened to ARRRGH, perhaps even more so. Poor changelings, kidnapped and separated from their families, used against their will, irreversibly-

*looks into the camera like I’m in The Office*

I’m thinking about you right now and I wish you were laying next to me. I wish your hand was lazily draped over my waist and I wish I could feel your steady in and exhales in my ear. and I also wish I could go back to the first ever day that I met you and I wish I would have known to look out for that smile, that smile that would change the way I’d see lips forever. I now know that look you get, when you see something you really want and I wish I could have seen that look when you first saw me because oh from what you’ve told me I can easily picture you’re eyes glowing and your heart beating wildly out of your chest; heaven knows mine did.
—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write, 20
This fucking relationship kills me
  • CaRtOoNz: What's up everybody! Me and this fucker right here, decided we wanted to play some'ore Mortal Kombat today.'Cause we haven't played in fucking foreve-
  • Delirious: That hurt my feelins!
  • CaRtOoNz: Well, okay. Me and this fine young gentleman here, known as Delirious decided to play Mortal Kombat.
  • Delirious: YOU decided to play Mortal Kombat!
  • CaRtOoNz: Okay you're right. I called him and said "Wake your fucking ass up!" I said, "We're playing Mortal Kombat."

Okay….Remember the archway in the department of mysteries?

I saw a post about how if Harry, who had only ever lost his parents at this point, heard voices what had Sirius heard?
Here’s the thought. That moment where Sirius gets hit he hears regulus’ scream. I mean Sirius had lost many people by that time but his brother was the one person he hadn’t known he’d lost forever. Like in the mix of ghosts mourning his life: James, Lily, mar, dorcus. The cry of agony he knew from childhood was the one his brain picked out the cry worse than he’d ever heard it even under crucio. And he just registers what that means.

So then my brain switched to after.
Where Sirius is screaming for remus to hold Harry back because that is all he can think of. Don’t let him get too close. The living can’t cross without going mad Harry has to be okay. And regulus and James and everyone are just watching Sirius dictate the only person that can hear him. And then a dam breaks and Sirius is in the middle of this giant hug of all of them and Sirius is crying because he can feel them for the first time all together in years. And everyone breaks apart and regulus is just crying and Sirius realizes he’s looking at this kid. I mean he always called regulus a kid but there were only three years between them The younger by three years brother he hadn’t seen in years was still NINETEEN.
And after an explanation Sirius has never been prouder of this boy. His flesh and blood brave brother who played the good boy and bided his time until he could take Voldemort down. Who took the dark mark and did EVERYTHING he could to make sure the light won.

He died for the light. They all did.

2

“What you said before,” she asked. “That Jace Herondale loves Clarissa Fairchild more than anyone you’ve ever known except someone — you never finished the sentence. Who was it?”

“I was going to say you and me and Will,” he said. “But — that’s rather a strange thing to say, isn’t it?”

“Not strange at all. Exactly right. Ever and always, exactly right.”

Have you ever thought, sweetheart, 
that there might be a world out there–
in the infinite constellation of universes
whispering quietly to each other–
there might be a world out there, 
where we have never known what it means
     to have our hearts torn out of our chests
     to live with an empty tomb memorialized between our ribs
     to stutter forth with bones that list forever towards an early grave

Maybe, do you think,
there might be a sky somewhere,
where the stars still smile down at us?

Do you think, perhaps,
there might be a dream out there
where the only ghosts we see look like sheets billowing in the wind?

I think, darling, that’s what it means
when my chest aches silently in the middle of the night
while I’m lying there listening to your dreambound sleep
praying that tonight your monsters and mine will both grant us peace–
I think it’s an echo of another heart in another chest
that beats with joy instead of fear
that bears neither scars nor ghosts nor faded memories that taste like regret.

And that heart reminds mine,
here,
     now,
          full of poisoned blood that has failed yet to kill me, 
there is a thing called happiness and you held it in your hands once. 
You have forgotten how it sounds when your body thrums with it, 
but there is a thing called happiness
and you held it in your hands once.

I am holding it in my hands now, it tells me,
and I will remember for you.

—  and maybe that’s enough ( j.p.
Stiles- I Feel Like I’ve Known You Forever

A/N- Alright, so I got major support for Control, and this is part 2 in that series. Here’s the link to part 1 and there will be a part 3 coming out tomorrow!

“Yeah,” Stiles told you, as you stood in the hallway between your rooms. “It’s, uh, it’s a nickname.”
“Hm,” you said. “So what’s your real name?”
Stiles felt something inside of him breaking, for what felt the hundredth time that summer. You already knew the answer to your question, you just didn’t know you knew. He wondered if those memories were really gone for good, or if there was some way he could trigger you into remembering. If that was true, he knew he couldn’t let that happen.
“I kind of don’t like to say,” he told you.
“Ah, a challenge,” you remarked. “I bet I can find out.”
Stiles blinked, and he felt his lips breaking into a grin. “You can try.”
“I’m about to go to dinner,” you told him. “You wanna come with?”
Stiles thought about this for a few seconds. Scott had asked for him to keep an eye on you (as if he wasn’t planning on it already), but he had also warned that it was a good idea for Stiles to keep his distance, in case he had missed any memories. They would be deeply repressed, but anything could trigger them floating to the surface, and that was what the Pack had been afraid of.
Regardless of Scott’s warnings, you were Stiles’ best friend, and he would be damned if he let you be alone in the dining hall.
“Sure,” he told you. “Are you meeting anyone? I don’t wanna crash a good friendship or anything.”
You shook your head. “I haven’t really met anyone. My roommate has tons of friends here already. It’s so crazy. I mean, I didn’t have many friends in high school, so I’m used to being alone.”
You blinked suddenly. “You know, I just realized how sad that sounded. Wow.”
“It’s cool,” Stiles told you. “I only had a few good friends myself.”
“You still talk to them?” you asked.
“Some of them,” he said. Technically that wasn’t a lie.
“Well, they say college is the time to make some more,” you said with a shrug. “And now I guess I have one.”
Stiles smiled. “Yeah.”
“So, dinner?” you asked.
“Of course,” he breathed. “I’m starving. Well, honestly, I’m always starving.”
“Same here,” you told him, beginning to head down the hall. “My parents used to tell me I had the metabolism of a werewolf.”
Stiles nearly choked. “A-a werewolf?”
“Yeah,” you told him with a laugh. “You know, claws, fangs, grr?”
You held up your hands and curled your fingers to mimic claws, and Stiles fought to compose himself. “Oh, right.”
“Of course they didn’t actually think they were real, it was just something funny they always said…at least I think it was,” you said.
“They sound cool,” he said, immediately realizing his mistake.
“They were,” you said quietly.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed. “I-I didn’t mean-”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you told him. “They died a few months ago, but there was no way you could have known. It’s not your fault.”
Stiles swallowed. “Yeah. You know, my mom died too. When I was eight.”
“I know you’ve heard this a million times,” you told him. “And trust me, I know from experience that it gets meaningless after a while, but I’m really sorry.”
He nodded appreciatively. “It was a long time ago. I still miss her though.”
“I miss my mom too,” you whispered. “She was without a doubt the strongest person I’ve ever met. And I know some really strong people.”
“Oh yeah?” Stiles asked with a smile. “Like who?”
“Like…like…” you suddenly trailed off. “You know, I don’t even remember who I was thinking about.”
You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with you.  “Sorry about that.”
“It’s cool,” Stiles told you. “You’re probably just hungry. And me? Well, I’m just looking forward to those curly fries.”
You grinned. “Same!”
You and Stiles talked all the way to the dining hall. You crossed the quad, walking side by side, and the two of you just seemed to click. You had never had a best friend in high school, or even a close one, but you imagined that this was what it must feel like. Even when you got your trays, paid for your meals and sat down, you and Stiles still hadn’t stopped talking. You seemed to bond from the smallest things, like your mutual love of curly fries, to the big ones, like both having parents who had passed away.
“Oh, shit,” you swore, looking down at your plate. “I forgot ketchup. I’m always doing that.”
You began to get up, but Stiles’ voice caused you to freeze.
“Here,” Stiles offered, tossing three or four packets onto your tray. “I got extra.”
“Thanks,” you remarked, sitting back down and tearing one open. “Wow, maybe we really are meant to be friends.”
Stiles felt a sad smile cross his lips. “Yeah, maybe we are.”
You smiled back, and Stiles felt himself relaxing. Maybe this was wrong, to be your friend when there was so much you didn’t know, when there was so much he could never tell you, but he couldn’t resist. You losing your memories had done nothing to make him stop loving you, and maybe Lydia had been right. Maybe Stiles was selfish, but even if you didn’t have your memories, he wasn’t willing to give you up.

“Have you seen her?” Scott questioned over the phone that night.
He was just getting settled into his room at U.C. Davis, but he still needed to take the time to call Stiles and check in.
Have I seen her?” Stiles repeated. “Scott, she lives in the room across from mine.”
“Oh, shit,” Scott breathed. “Dude, you have to get a transfer.”
“What?” Stiles demanded. “No-”
“Stiles,” Scott cut him off. “What if she remembers?”
“So what if she remembers?” he asked. “It wasn’t right to take her memories in the first place-”
“Stiles, please tell me you aren’t trying to get her to remember,” Scott begged.
“No!” he protested. “No way, Scott. But if it happens on it’s own-”
“It could drive her crazy,” Scott reminded him. “Remember what Deaton said? I took most of the memories. Even if she still has a few, there’s no way she can remember the others. It’ll drive her insane. She’ll think she’s going crazy. It’ll ruin her.”
“Scott-” he protested.
“Transfer rooms, Stiles,” Scott ordered. “You can keep an eye on her, but you can’t be friends. You can’t get her back.”
“Says who?” Stiles demanded. “I thought being an alpha came second to being my friend.”
“Stiles, you know I’m not trying to-” Scott started.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do,” Stiles told him. “You miss her too. You’re just upset because I get to see her every day now, and you have to live with the fact that you took her away from all of us.”
“Stiles,” Scott whispered. His voice was hurt and broken, and Stiles knew he had gone too far, but at the moment he didn’t care.
“Call me when you actually want to help me,” he stated bitterly, and ended the call.
He slammed his phone down onto his desk and hopped onto his bed, which was raised a good five feet off the ground. Part of him wondered if he could crawl under there and hide for the rest of his life, living off of his roommate’s protein powder and gatorade.
Seriously, the dude had like two gallons of it stocked in his mini-fridge, and another six grates of it under his bed. He was a volleyball player name Dave, who could probably just step on Stiles if he really wanted to, but luckily he didn’t have much interest in being friends, or even talking to him.
“Stilinski,” Dave stated, as he walked out of the suite bathroom in nothing but a towel. “You’re not gonna be on the phone all night, are you?”
“Nope,” he told him. “I’m done.”
“Good, cause I’ve gotta get a good sleep before practice tomorrow,” he told him. “It’s not personal or anything.”
Stiles blinked. “Thanks?”
Dave nodded sincerely, as if he really thought he was doing Stiles a favor, and that was when Stiles hopped off the bed to go brush his teeth.
The more he thought about it, though, the more Scott’s words resonated with him. He spit foamy Colgate into the sink, and felt a sinking feeling in his chest. What if  Scott had been right? What if being around you caused even the smallest memory to resurface? Even if you didn’t know Stiles, Stiles knew you, and he knew that you were just as determined as you had always been. If you knew something was missing, you would never stop until you found it.
Anyone would go crazy if half their life was missing, and Stiles had witnessed firsthand what your parents’ deaths had done to you. If you had to relive it all over again, you might break. Scott was right, he decided. He had to distance himself.

It took him a few weeks to get the time to go talk to Campus Housing, but when he finally did, he realized switching rooms wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.
“There are no empty rooms this year,” the woman manning the desk told him with a deep sigh. He guessed she had given the same speech about a thousand times before. “This is a huge freshman class, and we’ve gotten countless requests to transfer. Unless you can find someone willing to switch with you, it’ll probably be about three months before people start dropping out.”
“Three months?” Stiles repeated weakly.
“Three months,” she confirmed with a roll of her dark eyes. “You wanna fill out a form anyway?”
“No,” he told her, backing away from the desk. “Thanks for all your help though.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said gruffly, going back to typing on her computer.
“Stiles!” a voice called, causing him to turn.
You were walking into the building, a bright smile on your face when you met his eyes.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“You know how the air conditioning in my room has been broken since we got here?” you explained. “Well, we filled out a maintenance slip three weeks ago, but no one’s gotten back to us.”
“Oh god,” he said. “Seriously?”
You nodded. “I’m pretty sure I’m slowly melting inside. What about you?”
“Nope, I’m all good,” he told you, patting his chest. “Everything is solid in here. Well, as solid as it can be, since I don’t really hit the gym as much as I should-”
“No, you idiot,” you said with a laugh. “I meant why are you here?”
Stiles felt his heart clench at your words. You had said something like that to him a thousand times before, and hearing you say it again was almost painful.
“I was trying to switch rooms,” he admitted.
“Oh, damn,” you remarked. “Is your roommate really that bad?”
“He’s alright,” Stiles told you with a shrug. “He could be worse.”
“Well, you’re welcome to chill in my room anytime,” you told him. “If you wanna brave the oven.”
Stiles nodded. “Maybe.”
“You know I haven’t seen a lot of you,” you told him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’ve just gotten really busy, you know? Midterms are gonna be coming up soon.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you said with a groan. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
“Probably just studying,” he told you.
“Me too,” you told him. “My roommate invited me to this party, but I’m probably just gonna stay in.”
Stiles frowned. “Yeah Dave said something to me about a party. Well, actually what he said was ‘It’ll be fun, Stiles. Even someone like you can have a good time.’, but you get the idea. You should go and have fun though. Live it up a little, you know?”
“Jesus, your roommate really is that bad,” you said. “You’re right though. Maybe I’ll go if you’re gonna be there.”
Stiles pursed his lips and nodded. “Maybe I will.”
“Cool,” you said a with a grin. “Well, wish me luck with the air conditioning thing. I’ll see you later?”
Stiles nodded. “See you later.”
He watched you turn away and walk up to the front desk, where the woman with the attitude was waiting for you to explain yourself.  You flashed her a bright smile and ignored her rudeness, something Stiles knew you had always done. You tended to be sweet to everyone, until you decided that it was time to stop. Stiles had seen it more than a few times, with guys who wouldn’t leave Lydia alone, or with bullies when you were younger.
It was that mentality that made you a hero to Stiles, and here he was, unable to tell you that. Luckily, he would soon be able to.

You sighed as you pushed past the sweaty crowd in the foyer of the frat house, and tried to make your way to the kitchen. Once you were there, you quickly dumped your drink in the sink and tossed the plastic cup into the overflowing trashcan. You had originally planned on drinking, on having fun like Stiles suggested, but the minute your roommate ditched you, you decided you didn’t really need to. Besides, you weren’t about to get shitfaced with a bunch of strangers, especially in a place you weren’t very familiar with.
As you walked down the hallway to leave, you caught sight of a girl stumbling against the wall. She was blonde, wearing heels that must have been uncomfortable, and you recognized her from you Intro to Psychology class. You were about to dart forward and help her, just as a large guy in a Cal State hoodie grabbed her by the soldiers.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
The girl nodded, but something about the way the guy was gripping her shoulders set you off. It was almost possessive, and judging by the fact that the guy had appeared out of nowhere and didn’t seem to know her name, he probably didn’t have good intentions.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.
When she weakly shook her head no, he just slid his arm around her and started to lead her out. She was so out of it that all she could do was shuffle forward, but you could see that she was trying to meekly shove him off.
“Come on, it’s alright,” he was insisting, tightening his arms around her and pulling her toward the door. “I’ll just take you back to your dorm.”
Panic flared up inside you, but you knew you had to stay calm. The crowd seemed to part for the guy, and you guessed he was popular on campus, but you had some trouble getting through. You shoved past the mob of people and finally burst out into the warm, late September air.
You could see the guy tugging the girl down the sidewalk, but you knew she was a freshman, and the freshman dorms were the opposite way.
“Hey!” you cried out. “What do you think you’re doing with my friend?”
You jogged over, but the guy plastered a fake smile on his face. “I’m just taking her home.”
“Yeah?” you asked, nodding to the left. “Freshman dorms are that way.”
“Right,” he said. “Thanks. You can go back in now.”
“I should probably come with you,” you told him. “Just in case she needs someone to hold her hair.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What’s her name then?”
“Eliza,” you lied, so convincingly, that the dude frowned. “And you better let go of her before I call campus security.”
“Really?” he asked, letting go of the blonde and leaving her to stumble to the ground. “Because I’m pretty sure I could put some bruises on that pretty face before you could even pull out your phone.”
You bristled and stepped forward, having no idea what you were doing. It wasn’t like you to be so bold, but this felt right. It felt like instinct.  “You wanna try?”
“Are you serious, right now?” he asked, leaning down.
“Get out of my face,” you spat.
“Or what?” he asked, leaning closer.
As this was going on, Stiles had been walking toward the address Dave had texted to him. He was looking forward to meeting more people and just forgetting about what was going on for a few hours, but when he walked up and saw you standing there, with some huge, roided up asshole leaning over you, he realized his plans would have to change.
He blinked as you lunged up and slammed the heel of your hand into the guy’s nose, causing a crunch to echo out into the warm night. The guy let out an overdramatic scream of pain, and he moved forward to punch you, but you quickly ducked, caught his arm, and then twisted it behind his back.
“Back off,” you spat. “Or I’m going to call security. Maybe they can bring someone to fix your nose.”
“Let me go, you bit-ah! Ah, okay! Okay, I get it! Just let me go, please. Please don’t break my arm, okay, I’ve got a whole season to play.”
You snorted and dropped his arm in disgust, keeping what Stiles recognized as a fighting stance in case the guy tried to come at you again.
“Is everything alright over here?” Stiles caused, walking over with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah,” the guy spat, turning around and storming back into the house, all while pinching his nose.
“Holy shit,” you breathed, when he was gone.
“Holy shit, is right!” Stiles cried. “Y/n, what the hell was that?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea?” you asked him. “I-I don’t even know how I knew how to do that.”
Stiles swallowed. “It’s okay, just tell me what happened.”
“I think he was trying to rape her,” you said softly, nodding to the girl on the ground. “He was trying to walk her somewhere else and he said it was her dorm, but she’s a freshman and he was going to wrong way.”
Stiles nodded and followed you to where you knelt next to the girl. “Hey, are you hurt?”
She looked up at you with watery eyes. She seemed a little more sober now, but not much. “No. I-I don’t think so. I don’t…where are my friends?”
“I don’t know,” you told her. “We can call them though. Want us to?”
She sniffed and nodded, and you reached into the pocket of her jeans to pull out her phone and hand it to you. “Password?”
She reached out for the phone and groggily tapped the screen. It took her several tries, but she eventually got it right.
“Which friend?”
“Sher…Sheryll,” she slurred.
You nodded and hit call, and thank god the girl answered her phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Sheryll?”
“Yeah, who is this?”
“My name is Y/n,” you told her. “I have your friend’s phone. She sitting here in front of the SAE frat house and me and my friend just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”
“Oh god,” she breathed. “You found Phoebe?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Jesus, we’ve been looking everywhere for her. She was supposed to be sitting on the couch.”
You heard her calling out to someone in the background. “Someone found Phoebe…Okay, hey we’ll be out there in a sec. Thank you so much.”
She hung up the phone, and handed it back to the girl. She simply let it fall to the ground, and then she turned to the side and threw up. You reached forward and held back her hair, shooting a relieved look at Stiles. He simply nodded at you, and a couple minutes later, two girls were running down the steps of the frat house.”
“Oh god,” the girl whose voice you recognized breathed. “Thank god. What the hell was she doing out here?”
“Someone was trying to take her,” Stiles told her.
Sheryll shared a wide-eyed glance with her friend. “And you stopped him?”
“Actually,” he said, nodding to you, “She did. I think she broke his nose.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth and as you pulled away from Phoebe, she wrapped her arms around you. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to us.”
“Seriously,” the other girl said. “We never should have left her alone. Thanks for looking out for her.”
You nodded. “No problem.”
“Well,” Stiles said. “I’m not in the mood to party anymore.”
“Same here,” you told him. “Good luck, guys.”
The girls nodded to you, and you and Stiles started to walk back to your dorms. When you glanced back, they were helping Phoebe to her feet and slowly walking her to a nearby bench.
You and Stiles walked along in silence for a few minutes, until he decided to speak up.
“Did you ever work out that thing with your air conditioning?” he asked.
You smiled. “Well, at first it looked like we weren’t going to. She was like ‘I’m sure you can wait a few more weeks.’ And I told her that sure, we could, if she was okay with my roommate’s parents pulling their funding for the new renovations.”
Stiles chuckled. “That’s evil. Do her parents even donate?”
You shook your head with a laugh. “No, she’s on scholarship. I mean, so am I, but still, it was hilarious. You should have seen the look on her face. She picked up the phone right away.”
“Damn,” Stiles remarked. “That’s great. Almost as great as what you did back there.”
“That was crazy,” you muttered, thinking back to Phoebe. “I’m glad I started to leave the party when I did.”
“You were going to leave?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “My roommate ditched me, so I was just gonna head back to the dorm. Lucky I did too, otherwise I never would have seen that girl.”
Stiles nodded. “That was pretty badass.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t even know what I was doing.”
“Maybe it was instinct,” Stiles suggested. “Instinct to protect that girl.”
“I thought it was instinct to save your own ass,” you remarked. “You know, like self-preservation.”
It’s not instinct for us, Stiles wanted to say, but instead he just shrugged. “I like to think we’ve evolved. I mean, damn, Y/n, you’re a hero.”
You laughed softly as you walked up to the dorm. “You know, I don’t think that’s it.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, reaching out to swipe his ID in front of the reader.
The door unlocked with a click, and he pulled it open and held it for you. You smiled and walked inside.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “This is gonna sound weird but…”
“Y/n?” Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows as he trailed off.
“You know what?” you asked. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
“What?” he demanded, his eyes going wide.
“Relax,” you told him, shooting him an odd look. “I’m not gonna push you off or anything. I just wanna talk. What I’m gonna say is gonna sound crazy, and I kind of don’t want other people around. You also have my permission to ditch me if it gets too weird to listen to.”
“Trust me,” Stiles told you. “I’ve seen some pretty weird things, so I doubt I’ll run.”
You nodded and turned down the hall, walking side by side with Stiles until you found the door to the staircase that led to the roof. You walked all the way to the top, cracking jokes about how unfit the both of you were, and when you finally got there, you were breathing heavily.
“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, shoving open the door. “Remind me to never suggest that again.”
Stiles laughed breathlessly. “We were never good at cardio.”
“What?” you asked, blinking at him.
“I-I said I’ve never been good at cardio.”
“Me neither,” you told him with a grin.
You straightened up and walked to the edge of the roof, staring down at the lights of the campus. It looked so different from the top of the building, like you were looking at an entirely different world.
You sank down onto the concrete, and Stiles came to sit next to you. “So what did you want to tell me?”
You crossed your ankles and reached to run your hands up and down your bare knees. Your denim shorts were digging into the skin of your legs, and you knew they would leave a faint impression, but you didn’t care.
“Y/n?” Stiles asked again.
“I’m trying to think of how to start,” you told him. “I haven’t told you how my parents died.”
“Y/n, you don’t have to-”
“No, it’s alright,” you cut him off. “I want to. This summer, right after I graduated, my parents and I got into a car accident. They died, and I was in a coma for a month.”
“I think I heard about it,” he lied softly.
“What?” you asked.
“You and me,” he began. “We grew up in the same town, I think. Beacon Hills, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathed. “And…I never even saw you?”
“I guess our paths just never crossed,” he said.
“Huh,” you murmured. “Weird.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But keep going.”
“Well, when I woke up, this nurse, Melissa…she told me what happened. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my parents. I don’t even remember the crash. I have no recollection of it at all, like not even the slightest memory. The doctors all said I had amnesia because of head trauma, and that I might not ever remember.”
“God,” Stiles breathed. “Y/n, that’s awful.”
“See, that’s the thing,” you told him. “It wasn’t. I mean, of course it’s awful that they’re gone. I miss them everyday. But…I don’t remember being in that car. I was barely in pain when I woke up. It could have been a lot worse.”
“Still…” he said slowly.
“And that’s the thing that bugs me,” you continued.
“That it could have been worse?”
“Sort of,” you said. “Because I have all that time missing, you know? I mean, shouldn’t I at least remember what happened up until the accident?”
Stiles frowned. “I couldn’t tell you. I’m not a doctor.”
“Yeah, but there’s something else too,” you continued. “It’s not just that I’m missing the accident or the time before. I feel like I’m missing other memories too.”
Stiles felt his chest constricting, but he forced himself to choke out a response and play along. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember when we first met?” you asked him. “When I was talking about how strong my mom was, and how I knew a lot of other strong people?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, I know I was thinking of someone else,” you stated firmly. “Maybe more than one person. I was sure of it, but when I went to say who it was, it was like I totally blanked.”
“Hey, that happens to everyone sometimes,” Stiles reminded you.
“But there’s more,” you continued. “I was living with a family friend after they died. His name is Chris, and he had a daughter my age. She died in a car accident a few years ago, just like my parents. Her name was Allison.”
Stiles closed his eyes and looked away, but luckily you were still staring out at the campus. “I remember her being one of my best friends when I was younger, but I can’t remember getting the news of her car accident. And I don’t even remember the funeral. Chris says I was there, but I don’t remember it at all. You’d think I would.”
“Maybe this has to do with the accident,” he suggested.
“See I thought about that,” you told him, already way ahead of him. “But that kind of trauma, it shouldn’t be affecting my long term memories, the ones I should have made ages ago. Right?”
“Y/n, I don’t know what to tell you,” Stiles said honestly. “I mean, I’m not a neuroscience major. I don’t know much about the brain. But I know that sometimes when traumatic things happen, it blocks them out for us. It’s like a defense mechanism. Maybe it’s better for you not to know.”
“But I feel like part of me is missing,” you whispered to him. “I walk around campus, and I see all these other people. They know who they are, and they know what they want. But me? Sometimes…sometimes I feel like I don’t even know who I am.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Stiles told you firmly.
“How do you know that?” you asked him, your eyes filling with tears. “You barely even know me.”
“I do know you,” he insisted, wrapping an arm around you. “And I know that you’re an amazing, intelligent human being, okay? And even if you don’t figure it out right now, you will eventually.”
You sniffed and nodded as you rubbed your shoulders, and as you looked up into his comforting brown eyes, you felt the urge to kiss him. You suddenly leaned forward, looking down at his lips, and as if it was pure instinct, he moved forward to meet you.
He lips moved tenderly, almost cautiously against yours as you sat on that roof. You reached up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself, and as crazy as it sounded, you felt more like yourself with Stiles than you did when you were alone. You closed your eyes, but he suddenly jerked away and jumped up, as if he had been electrocuted.
“I-I’m sorry,” you breathed, rising to your feet. “I didn’t mean to shock you. I just…I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Stiles stared at you, open-mouthed, but the expression on his face was unreadable. It was a mixture of so many emotions that you didn’t even know what to pin it on, but soon he was backing away. “Y/n, I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. We never should have been friends.”
“Stiles,” you whispered. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry. I-I can’t do this,” he told you, shaking his head and walking quickly toward the door.
You stood there in shock as he threw open the door, and jogged quickly down the steps. It swung shut behind him with a resounding bang, and you jumped at how loud it was.
Confusion washed over you, and after that, self-loathing. I never should have done that, you told yourself. I never should have kissed him.
You wiped your eyes and turned back to the campus, looking out at the lights as they blurred behind your tears. You sank bank down on the ground and wrapped your arms around your knees, hugging them to yourself and contemplating the fact that you had just lost the only friend you had made, and the only chance of feeling like yourself again.

Spirit Companionship FAQ Part 1

So this has been a long time coming. Questions are really in no particular order, but are common questions I get about spirit companionship! I will probably be referring back to this post a lot! Just as a heads up, when I say spirit in this post it is referring to both spirits and entities. I am also splitting this up into two sections because of length.

Please see more of your questions answered on Spirit Companionship FAQ Part 2.

What is spirit companionship?

Spirit companionship, or spirit keeping as it is also known as, is the practice of having spirits around as friends, companions, life partners, guides, teachers, students or whatever reason the spirit has decided to become a companion. But whatever the case is, the spirit has decided to become a companion, willingly. But for us, the humans, it is a way of life, as often these spirits are part of our family forever and require our time and commitment just as any other friend or family member does. You build relationships with them, go through ups and downs, and experience life together. Its a huge commitment. But worth it, as long as you have the time to dedicate to the spirits.

Do all spirits want to be spirit companions?

No. In fact, most spirits want nothing to do with humans, and even if they do want to work with us, its often not on a companionship level.

Is spirit companionship like having a spirit guide?

Being a spirit companion is different than having a spirit guide, but a spirit companion or entity can act as a guide. Sometimes our spirit guides turn into companions, but I have found they tend to stick in the background a little more.

Who can be a spirit companion

Anyone, really. Anyone can be a spirit companion, no matter your race, what religion you identify with, what sex you identify yourself with, or what part of the world you live in. It is not a closed practice.

How do I get a spirit companion?

The easiest, and often safest way to obtain a spirit companion is through a reputable conjurer. They will be able to connect you with a spirit that is an energy match to yourself, as well as one that wants to work with you as well, sharing common interests with you. You can check out my list of conjurer’s here as well as my list of my personally recommended conjurers.

Why do I need to use a conjurer? Why cant I just summon spirits myself?

Unless you have experience working with spirits, I would strongly advise against it. Think of conjurers as a safety net. By the time the spirit arrives to you, they have already gained the trust of the conjurer, and potentially others -depending on who you go through. They have also agreed to a contract in the binding where they agree to certain things (for example to not hurt the companion) with the conjurer, before that conjurer will bind their energy to the object. If you are attempting to do this yourself, you don’t have that, and could potentially summon up something quite dangerous without knowing. If you aren’t familiar with working with spirits, it can be even worse, because you have no way to judge their character and/or what type of spirit they are, and this could lead to you being taken advantage of. Until you have a few years of experience under your belt, I advise against trying to conjure yourself. Even then, keep in mind conjuring is a HUGE responsibility, and can be potentially dangerous.

How do I know its a calling?

Everyone feelings callings differently, but its basically a pull to work with a spirit, and the spirit with you. The important thing to distinguish here is that it is actually a calling. If you cant get that spirit off your mind, or you keep going back to the stop to make sure the spirit is “ok” or still there, or that spirit is waiting for you in the shop, then it is probably a calling. Thats just a few examples. With most conjurers, you can often contact them and have them ask the spirit as well too, to confirm the calling.

What is bonding? Why is it important, and how do I bond with my spirit(s)?

I am actually going to refer to another post on this question because it explains it much better then I can in this short FAQ! Click Here.

How do I greet a companion? Do I need to do a big ritual?

No! Some conjurers will provide a short incantation or way to welcome the spirit into your home, and if the conjurer provides this then you should do it. But if they don’t, you don’t need to do anything crazy except introduce yourself and welcome them into your home and life. Probably show them what they can and cant use, what areas of the house they are welcome in, read them house rules if you have them, and go from there! Do what feels right.


Please see more of your questions answered on Spirit Companionship FAQ Part 2.

Thats it for now! This might be updated with new questions later! And by no means is this the be-all end-all of spirit companionship FAQs. A lot of this is based off my experiences and opinions, as well as other spirit companions and friends. So do your own research, and come to your own conclusions.

More useful posts: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Stalker Sentence Starters

My muse is a stalker

“It’s great to finally meet you in person.”
“I know everything about you.”
“I feel like we’ve known each other forever.”
“You look beautiful tonight. Of course, you look beautiful every night.”
“You’re all I think about.”
“I need you.”
“We were meant to be together.”
“Don’t run away from me!”
“I’ve been watching you for a long time.”
“I see every step you take.”
“Who was that you were talking to?”
“I won’t let you leave me.”
“I want to be the only person you’ll ever need.”

Your muse is a stalker

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
“Stop following me!”
“What are you, a pervert?”
“I’m calling the police.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“How long have you been following me?”
“We’re never going to be together.”
“No, I don’t love you.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“Of course I care about you!”
“I’ll do anything as long as you don’t hurt my loved ones.”

Quite Splendid and Terribly Rare

“Ah, Claire.” He spoke impatiently, but with a tinge of affection nonetheless. “You’ve known forever who you are. Do you realize at all how unusual it is to know that?”

“No.” I wiped my nose with the shredding tissue, dabbing carefully to keep it in one piece.

Frank leaned back in his chair, shaking his head as he looked at me.

“No, I suppose not,” he said.[…] “I haven’t got that,” he said quietly at last. “I’m good, all right. At what I do––the teaching, the writing. Bloody splendid sometimes, in fact. And I like it a good bit, enjoy what I do. But the thing is––” He hesitated, then looked at me straight on, hazel-eyed and earnest. “I could do something else, and be as good. Care as much, or as little. I haven’t got that absolute conviction that there’s something in life I’m meant to do––and you have.”

“Is that good?” The edges of my nostrils were sore, and my eyes puffed from crying.

He laughed shortly. “It’s damned inconvenient, Claire. To you and me and Bree, all three. But my God, I do envy you sometimes.”

He reached out for my hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, I let him have it. 

To have that passion for anything”––a small twitch tugged the corner of his mouth––”or anyone. That’s quite splendid, Claire, and quite terribly rare.” He squeezed my hand gently and let it go, turning to reach behind him for one of the books on the shelf beside the table. 

It was one of his references, Woodhill’s Patriots, a series of profiles of the American Founding Fathers. […]

“These were people like that. The ones who cared so terribly much––enough to risk everything, enough to change and do things. Most people aren’t like that, you know. It isn’t that they don’t care, but that they don’t care so greatly.” He took my hand again, this time turning it over. One finger traced the lines that webbed my palm, tickling as it went.

“Is it there, I wonder?” he said, smiling a little. “Are some people destined for a great fate, or to do great things? Or is it only that they’re born somehow with that great passion––and if they find themselves in the right circumstances, then things happen? It’s the sort of thing you wonder, studying history… but there’s no way of telling, really. All we know is what they accomplished. 

“But Claire––” His eyes held a definite note of warning, as he tapped the cover of his book. “They paid for it,” he said. 

–– Voyager by Diana Gabaldon


First off, add this to the list of scenes I really want to see in Season 3.

Second, it can be so easy sometimes to write Frank off based on how his relationship with Claire ended. But as Claire remembers from time to time throughout the books, things with Frank weren’t all bad, just as they weren’t all good. This is one of those scenes where he doesn’t necessarily understand her but he recognizes something in her that is different, even if he can’t name it. He wants to understand but simply doesn’t know how. 

Beyond acknowledging that drive within her to be a healer, he is subtly acknowledging more––the unique nature of her relationship with Jamie. He notes that “To have that passion for anything […] or anyone” is rare. He is perhaps trying to acknowledge the pain that she feels in her loss––even years later––and in the only way he knows how; by not asking her to give up something else she is passionate about, by not forcing her to try and discard another part of herself. Frank does still love her and he can see how much she has changed and I think it pains him to see her broken, especially compared to what she was when they were first married. I think at this point in time (about eight years after her return) he’s accepted that she isn’t going to go back to being that woman on her own but that maybe he thinks medical school and pursuing this particular passion will help her get closer to what she was before. 

That final line can hardly feel anything but ominous. “They paid for it.” There is “a definite note of warning” that suggests Frank fears/believes that Claire might not be done paying for it, though it could also be argued (and Claire might well argue at that point) that losing Jamie had been payment enough. 

There are elements of the conversation as a whole that echo earlier conversations in Voyager and the earlier books, perhaps most notably the concluding pages of the previous chapter and section in which Mary MacNab explains to Jamie that she knows what he had with Claire was true love and that she, “never had that.” There’s, of course, the echoing of the palm reading Mrs. Graham performed back in the very first pages of the series, which Claire herself calls out a few paragraphs later. The line about “I haven’t got that absolute conviction that there’s something in life I’m meant to do––and you have” that brings to mind Jamie and Claire at Lallybroch and the “I was born for you” conversation. 

Title: The Problem With Being Fictional
Pairing: Phan (Danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil)
Words: 2.9k+
Genre: Angst, fluff
Warnings: Self-harm, homophobic slurs, a brief mention of smut (Not Phan) 
A/N: This took me forever! I’m not sure how much I like it, but hey, at least it’s done!








Everyone has been there at one time or another. Being hopelessly in love with someone who would never love you back. Perhaps it was a friend that you had a super gay crush on, and they were completely straight. Maybe it was your English teacher who was just old enough to be out of your reach. But most well known and most frustrating is having a crush on a fictional character who will never be with you. But what most people don’t know, or don’t realize, is that storybook characters do in fact have feelings for their readers. At least Phil Lester, a character from ‘the definition of sunshine’ did.Every time he met a new reader, he fell profoundly in love with them. The way the read, their facial expressions, it was captivating. But out of all the readers Phil had ever had fallen in love with, Dan Howell was the most memorable, and the most captivating. ~“Happy birthday Dan!” The family of brunettes chorus. Phil sighs from beneath his wrapper. Of course, it was another birthday present. Probably to a 10 to 12-year-old boy who was the brightest in his class. “Oh! What’s this!” The boy exclaims before beginning to tear off the wrap covering the book excited as to what was underneath. Phil sighs with discontent wanting the squealing to be over, but as soon as Phil catches sight of the boy he gasps. The boy, no older than 11, had warm chocolate eyes that sparkled with wisdom as though they belonged to a much older man. His face was smoothed and tan and on the top was a head of curly hair made to match his eyes. He was stunning. The boy squeals with delight as he hugs the book to his chest, and Phil finds that he doesn’t particularly care about the squealing or the noise, as long as this boy kept him in his hand. 

~

 A few years pass and the once 11-year-old boy was all grown up and 16. Phil and Dan had many great years with each other. Whenever something bad happened to Dan, Phil would be there waiting to cheer him up.
But no words Phil could have ever uttered would help Dan through what was about to happen. “Daniel honey, can we talk to you?” Mrs. Lester asks softly opening the door to Dan’s room, Mr. Lester following closely behind.
Dan frowns closing the book he had received about 6 years ago. He didn’t bother saving his spot, he already knew what would happen as he had re-read this book to many times to count.“Sure” he sighs forcing a smile on his face.Phil knew that today hadn’t been the best of days for the 17-year-old. His friends had ditched him, and as soon as Dan got over that pain, he found his boyfriend of 3 years cheating on him. With a girl. As Dan places the book (or Phil) on the desk, Phil begs to any God or Goddess listening, that Mr. And Mrs. Howell had good news for the boy he was quite smitten with, but based on the look upon both their faces, Phil was sure his prayers would not be answered.
“Dan, you know we love you and we want to give you the best life possible.” Mr. Lester begins, glancing over at his wife, foot tapping nervously.
“Yeah…” Dan trails. He was sure he knew where this was going. All the fights. All the yelling. It would take an idiot to not know.
“Dan, Darling. Your father and I…” She trails off eyes darting to the floor.
“Just say it,” Dan growls angry tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
Phil purses his lips straining to hear their words, as they were muffled by the covers and pages of his book.
“Alright, alright… your dad and I are getting a divorce.”
Dan sucks in a breath but nods anyways. “I-I figured” He mumbles before standing up and opening the door for his parents. “I just-uhm-need to be alone”
Mr. And Mrs. Howell nod glancing at each other worriedly. “Okay, darling. We’ll be downstairs if you need us.”
Phil couldn’t see Dan through the cover of his book, but he could very well imagine him nodding numbly to his parents before the door was closed.
Dan sighs softly, picking up the book and opening it, planning to read again.
As the book is opened, Phil gasps softly. He had never seen Dan look so down.
His eyes were red and puffy, with tear streaks down his face, but he wasn’t done crying. There were still crystal-like tears falling softly off of his lashes and all Phil wanted to do was wipe them away.
In his opinion, this beautiful boy did not deserve to look, nor feel like this. Ever.
Dan struggles to read the book, Phil can tell. Usually, it only took around two or three minutes before he flipped the page, and now he was stuck on the same page for about 10 minutes. He eventually gives up and with a strangled cry, he chucks the book half way across the room, landing with a hard thud on the carpeted rug before it falls open again. Phil winces in slight pain as he hits the floor but quickly recovers and gazes solemnly up at the boy who had fallen to his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if shielding himself from the world. Soon, though, he manages to pick himself up and Phil sighs in relief. Perhaps this boy wasn’t too broken. Phil watches as Dan walks towards his book, before quickly scooping it off the floor and placing it on the desk before promptly flinging the drawer open. Phil watches curiously. ‘What in the world could Dan be looking for there?’ He wonders inching closer to the edge of the book. His question is soon answered as the brunette swiftly pulls out a razor. Phil gasps watching the boy lower the blade meant for cutting the hairs on his chin towards his wrist and swiftly tearing it across the skin. ‘Stop!’ Phil tries to scream, but no words come out, just as he had thought. But that didn’t mean he stopped trying. He balled his hands into fists, banging them on the pages of his book yelling and screaming for the boy that he had somehow fallen for to just stop. Dan swipes 5 more times, leaving 6 bright red slashes across his wrists, bleeding profusely. He curses under his breath holding the hem of his shirt to his bleeding arms before dashing out of the room to clean it up, Phil assumed. He gulps wiping his tear streaked cheeks before turning towards his pages. He was going to do something he was told never to do. He was changing the story. 

~

Dan’s walk to school in the morning was slightly different from his previous ones. Then again, he, himself was slightly different from most mornings.
True, he still had his book he received at age 11 clutched in his hand, but his attitude or walk wasn’t the same. Any other day, he would nearly be skipping to school, a large smile planted on his face as he waved to every car he saw, but today, not so much. The hand that wasn’t clutching the book tightly was stuffed in his hoodie pocket, his head was bowed, hood over his head, instead of smiling, there was a large frown etched on his face and his wrists were stinging quite badly. “Morning Daniel.” One of his favorite teachers chirps cheerily. “How are you?” Dan sighs forcing a large, fake smile on his face. “I’m just dandy” he lies grinning almost maniacally at her. Fake it until you make it right?The teacher flashes a smile. “How wonderful!” She cheers before strolling down the hall to say hi to some other students. Dan sighs softly watching her go before sitting on a bench near to his old friends. As he opens his book, words like knives pierce into the back of his head. ‘fag’ they whisper. ‘Mistake of god’ they hiss. It was painful.
Who knew his best friends turned out to be so homophobic.He forces his gaze away from the group and opens his book reading the words he had practically burned into his head. But as he scanned through the words scattered on the pages, he notices something was very wrong.
This isn’t the story he read. True it still had the same basic plot, but the words were changed, and the characters actions were different.
Frowning he closes the book staring intently at the cover that held the protagonist. He was a very handsome, pale skinned man, with midnight black hair sweeping low over his forehead, nearly touching his eye. Dan would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine what it would be like to have him run his fingers through his hair or feel him whisper sweet things in his ear.
Maybe this is why he didn’t have any friends. Because he spent far too much time fantasizing over fictional characters.He shakes his head opening the book again and reading the words that lay on the page. It was still very weird, but hey, now he has something a little different to read for once. He’d question it later, but for now, he’d simply enjoy the story. 

“Phil… Can I admit something to you?” Jonathan sighs looking up at the dark haired male. Phil nods distractedly as he watches the TV in front of him assuming whatever his friend had to say wasn’t important. It never was. Usually, it was something stupid like ‘I actually really like My Little Pony’ he would say before bursting into a fit of giggles. “I-i- I think I may be depressed” A moment of silence passes, Phil was no longer paying attention to show that somehow seemed very stupid now. “Wh-why do you say that?” He asks turning to his friend and cursing himself for stuttering.“Nothing feels the same anymore, day after retched day I wake up dreading what lay ahead, I’m never genuinely happy, it’s always fake. A-and, I-uhm- I did this,” Jonathan reaches up and yanks his sleeve up revealing dozens of cuts up and down his arm. Phil gasps hands flying to his mouth. “A-and it felt better than the pain inside” Phil rips his gaze from Jonathan’s arms, towards his solemn face. Slowly Phil lifts his arms, outstretching them towards the broken boy sitting in front of him. Jonathan takes the invitation falling into the pale skinned boy’s arms tears beginning to fall down his face. “Shh,” Phil soothes rubbing Jonathan’s back softly. “I promise you…. Everything will get better. I’ll be sure of it. Remember all those times I was there in the pass, this time will not be any different “

Dan jumps as the bell rings loudly throughout the school. He was so invested in the story he had forgotten where he was. Sighing he closes the book, stuffing it into his backpack and heading to his first class head still reeling about what had happened in the book. It almost felt as if Phil was talking to him. He cuts his thought off by shaking his head furiously. There was no way he was talking to him personally. Right?

~

“So…. You take this book with you everywhere Dan?” The psychologist asks softly flipping through the pagePhil'sbook. Dan gives a minuscule nod, frowning down at his hands.A few months after the divorce Dans parents noticed something was very wrong with their son and decided that he should start in therapy. So far, it hadn’t worked.But what had worked was Phil. Anytime Dan was feeling sad or upset, Phil always had something different to say. Even though it was always directed towards Jonathan, Dan really felt like it was for him. “Dan, I’m pretty worried about that. Your obsession with this book seems rather…. unhealthy” she admits leaning forward, staring intently at the boy donned in all black, who was constantly tugging his sleeves down over his wrists. Dan rolls his eyes irritability. “There are many kids who always read the same books and carry them around everywhere” He fumes eyebrows furrowed as he glares at the therapist. She sighs scribbling something down on her clipboard. She always carried that clipboard. Dan was sure if he was ever to run into her anywhere outside of this office, she would have this very clipboard clutched in her hand, scribbling away about what everyone did. “Yes there are Dan,” she admits shifting slightly in her chair. “But have you ever realized that these kids have depression?” Dan rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond. It was true. He had noticed it, but he put it to the back of his mind. “Dan. I think it would be best if I held onto this book for a while.” She suggests placing the brightly colored book on the side table.Dans eyes widen, but he quickly regains his composure. “You can’t. Not unless my mom says it’s ok” he shrugs leaning back in his chair and staring at the therapist challengingly. “Well Dan,” she begins, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “Your mom told me that I was allowed to do anything that would help you improve, and this, I am sure will help you a great deal” Dan raises his eyebrows slightly, leaning forward on his elbows. “Taking that book away from me, will only cause more self destruction on my part. That book helps me alot, and without it I may not be able to cope” he shrugs. “Unless that sounds like improvement to you, then I suggest you give me my book back” The therapist opens her mouth to argue, but seemingly can’t come up with anything as she quickly closes is and putting the book back into Dan’s outstretched hand.“If I’m not mistaken,” he sighs standing up, “that is the end of the hour and I shall be on my way” he states before sweeping out of the room, book clutched successfully in his hand. He finally sighs softly  as he strides down the hallway and out of the building towards his car. When he arrives at his small flat that he shared with his mother and her boyfriend (who he hated) he quickly dashes up the stairs, landing on his bed with a small smile as he opens up his book.


There was a light knock on the door and Jonathan stands to answer it. Phil. Honestly, as much as Jonathan loved his best friend, sometimes his bright smile was a little too blinding.
“Hey!” Phil exclaims walking into the house. “How’d therapy go?”
Jonathan purses his lips closing the door silently behind Phil. “It was… ok” He mumbles sitting on the couch and making room for his friend.
“Still hate it?” Phil asks sympathetically turning his body towards Jonathan.
Jonathan purses his lips before nodding quickly. “It’s horrible! She doesn’t understand me! She’s just doing it for the paycheck!” He exclaims, pouting at his best friend. “Why do I have to go?”
Phil just shrugs pulling the boy into a tight hug. “You know your parents want you to go”, He says into the other boys ear as he clings tightly holding back tears. “And believe me, it’ll be good for you”
Jonathan sniffles softly. “Y-Yeah, I guess” He mumbles softly. “Thanks Phil.”
Phil smiles softly. “It’s always my pleasure.

~

Many years passed, and still, Phil never left nor got bored of the boy who ended up growing into such a handsome and happy young man.
But no story is complete without a heart break.
Phil will never forget about it. He had thought that even though Dan had become so happy now, he still would never leave Phil. No matter what.
It was that way for awhile until one evening he saw Dan getting ready to go out, and Phil was excited. He always was when Dan took him out.
Then there was a knock on the door and Dan went to answer it, grinning from ear to ear.
“You ready to go?” A deep, baritone voice asked from the door. Dan nodded. “Great, let’s get on our way” Dan giggles and the door shuts behind him, the bang resonating throughout the room. Phil was in shock. Dan never left him!
He waited. 1 hour passed, then 2, then 3, and still no Dan. Phil’s eyes flickered to the clock constantly, hoping with all his might that Dan would come home (without the mysterious man) curl up with Phil in hand, have a good few minutes of pleasant reading time, and then go to bed.
Finally 2am rolled around and Phil heard the wonderful click of the door being unlocked, but his hopes would not become a reality.
Dan stumbled into the lounge drunk out of his mind, and a handsome, dark haired male looming above him.
“Where’s your room?” He slurs sultrily, holding Dan by the waist. Phil gasps understanding what was about to happen.
“Not room.” Dan mumbles grinning up at the man with heavy lidded eyes. “Couch”
The man nods and Phil is disgusted. Not the couch Dan and Phil had spent many great reading sessions on, not the couch Phil watched Dan get better.
In a flurry of clothes and hands, the two boys clothes are quickly discarded and Phil turns away, tears streaming down his face as he presses his hands against his ears, blocking out the groans of the two men behind him.
He should have known better than to fall for the wonderful, beautiful, man like Dan. That was the problem of being fictional. No matter how much you fight it, you will always get your heart broken in the end. 

Buffy The Vampire Slayer — Once More With Feeling {Sentence Starters}

  • ❛❛ Nothing here is real; nothing here is right. ❜❜ 
  • ❛❛ I’ve been going through the motions; walking through the part. ❜❜ 
  • ❛❛ Nothing seems to penetrate my heart. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I was always brave and kind of righteous; now I find I’m wavering. ❜❜ 
  • ❛❛ Will I stay this way forever? ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I just want to be alive. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I’ve got a theory. We should work this out. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ It clearly could get serious before it’s passed. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ What can’t we face if we’re together? ❜❜
  • ❛❛ We’ve all been there. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ We have to try; we’ll pay the price. It’s do or die. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I lived my life in shadow. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Something just isn’t right. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You set me free; brought me out so easily. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I always took for granted I was the only one there. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Your power shone brighter than any I’ve known. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I’m under your spell… nothing I can do. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You worked your charm so well. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ This is the man that I plan to entangle. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ My claim to fame was to maim and to mangle. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Vengeance was mine. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ The love we’ve known can only grow. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You’re scared - ashamed of what you feel. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Being with you touches me more than I can say. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Since I’m only dead to you, I’m saying stay away and let me rest in peace. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Let me take my love and bury it in a hole 6-foot deep. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You’ve got a willing slave. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ There’s a traitor here beneath my breast, and it hurts me more than you’ve ever guessed. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You’re not ready for the world outside. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I know I said that I’d be standing by your side, but I… ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I wish I could stay here, but now I understand I’m standing in the way. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You just lie there when you should be standing tall. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I wish I could slay your demons. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Why do you run away? ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I come from the imagination, and I’m here strictly by your invocation. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I bring the fun in. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ All those hearts laid open… that must sting. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You brought me down and doomed this town. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ You know I’ve been through hell. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Believe me, I don’t wanna go… ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I wish I could trust that it was just this once. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I touch the fire and it freezes me… I look into it and it’s black… ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I want the fire back. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I will walk through the fire, ‘cause where else can I turn? ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I’m free if that bitch dies… I better help her out. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ She is drawn to the fire; some people will never learn. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ We’ll see it through; it’s what we’re always here to do. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ One by one, they turn from me… I guess my friends can’t face the cold. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Everything is turning out so dark. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ What’s it going to take to strike a spark? ❜❜
  • ❛❛ These endless days are finally ending in a blaze. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Life’s a show, and we all play our parts. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ It’s alright if something’s come out wrong. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Where there’s life, there hope. Every day’s a gift. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Life’s a song you don’t get to rehearse, and every single verse can make it that much worse. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ There was no pain… no fear… no doubt ‘til they pulled me out of heaven. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ I live in hell, ‘cause I’ve been expelled from heaven. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Life isn’t bliss. Life is just this - it’s living. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ There’s not a one who can say this ended well. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ All those secrets you’ve been concealing… say you’re happy now. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ See you all in Hell. ❜❜
  • ❛❛ Where do we go from here? ❜❜
Imagine Tom Hiddleston.

Interviewer: Tom, we have to talk about this, i’ve known you forever, and you recently broke up with, we all know with who. But that’s not the subjet i want to talk about with you. The thing is, that you proposed to Y/N recently, I mean she was your 4 year girlfriend, and i mean why this happen?

Tom: Hehehehe listen, she has been the woman in my life, and i did that, because i was stupid enough to put in danger what we have, so i proposed just in case somebody… (gif)

Tom: got any ideas (gif)

Tom: such as, trying something like, kiss her or even think he had an opportunity with her. She is mine.