#stamps greyhounds

[sonjatwogreyhounds]

VERTRAGUS ON STAMPS

the #sighthound #bulletin

[blistexenthusiast]

19th century wax seals

[awkward-teabag]

Love (cannot emphasis how much sarcasm there is in that word) that an official Canadian government response to high cellphone rates is to switch carriers.

Switch it to what? We basically have three companies since one was allowed to eat the forth (with the government saying it wasn't anti-competition and the company eating the other pinky promising they wouldn't jack rates up). Even the smaller companies have to rent infrastructure from the Big Three so there's only so much they can do if that rent costs an arm and a leg.

And that's not touching on how many "small companies" are actually just subsidiaries of the Big Three. You may save $5 but you're still with Telus/Rogers/Bell.

Or that the actual small companies tend to have shit coverage because they don't have the infrastructure available to them and are prevented from getting it. Or their traffic is throttled in favour of the Big Three's customers. Or both.

Or that they're extremely regional thus aren't an option for a huge chunk of Canada's population.

We have no true options and the government has shown time and again that they're fine with monopolies, in multiple industries, and don't care when said monopolies jack up prices to make shareholders and the c-suite more money at the expense of everyone else. At most there will be a verbal slap on the wrist and a giftcard for $25 that people have to register for, for a decade and a half of price gouging.

It's not talked a whole lot about outside the country from what I've seen and heard but Canada is a country of monopolies. A handful of companies own nearly everything, every province has a family or two that owns a hell of a lot (Nova Scotia is basically owned by one family at this point), and our government ignores it. Even the branch that is supposed to be against monopolies is fine with mergers and takeovers in most cases.

Because, you know, the company said it totally wouldn't use consumers' lack of options to increase prices.

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight, Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a Bat.

Ao3 Link (available only to Ao3 members)

When Wes gets home that night, he cuts off the part of Tim’s note with his name. His contact information has already been added to his phone, so he tears that part of the note up and then trashes it. The part containing his signature, Wes dumps into an envelope and scribbles out a note on a different sheet of paper: 

You owe me one. 

                —Wes

Wes seals the envelope, stamps it, and writes Tucker’s address in the center, and uses one of his mom’s fancy returning address stickers so he doesn’t have to write anymore. Then he rushes out the townhouse and drops it off at the USPS outgoing mailbox, and rushes back inside before the powers that be decide Wes should be mugged again.

Tucker may be one of the Gaslighting Trio, but he was still nice enough to help Wes in their computers class. 

xxXxx

Wes: Hi, it’s Wes! You gave me your number yesterday so I could give you coffee next time I went on a coffee run?

The reply comes unexpectedly fast for someone who runs a Fortune 500 company and is a whole entire vigilante, but maybe the coffee addiction is just that strong.

Tim: Wes! Yes, please. Have you left yet?

Wes: No, I haven’t even made the mobile order yet. Wanted to give you time to respond. Why?

Tim: Just a sec

Wes stares at his phone from his place in his mom’s office, where he sits in a brown suede chair that sits in front of her desk. His mom is typing away on her computer, a look of concentration on her face. 

“Huh,” he says to himself, then exits the chat to return to putting in orders. He’d like to just click on a past order and reuse it, but Felix and Kourtnie are always changing their orders. He’s convinced it’s because they hate him, but maybe it’s that he’s letting his experience with Jade color his vision. 

“What is it, sweetie?” his mom asks without pausing in his work. 

“Well, Tim asked me to text him next time I went to get coffee. And like, I did. And he answered, but then told me to wait a sec.”

“Can’t ignore orders from the big boss,” his mom says, and Wes nods. 

“Yeah, but I think Kourtnie will die if she waits too long for her caffeine fix.”

“She’ll have to get over it, or stop by Batbucks before she comes in.”

“I don’t think she wakes up early enough for that….”

His mom snorts, “You’re right on that front. How did you even meet Mr. Drake?”

He shrugs and looks back to his phone, “I dunno. He pressed the elevator button for me a few days ago, and now suddenly all of this—” he gestures to everything, “—is a thing.”

“Teenagers,” his mom mutters under her breath. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing. Just that you suck at describing things.” 

“You’re mean. I’m disowning you as my mother.”

“Have fun on the streets of Gotham.”

“I’ll sell your credit card numbers online to buy a bus ticket back to Amity.”

“Greyhounds don’t go to Amity. Try again.”

“I’ll hitchhike and get serial killed by a semi-truck driver to get back to Amity. Then I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt you and Gotham.” 

“Not Amity Park?”

“No, they have other problems.” Like the Guys In White. Gotham has issues, but at least they aren’t government-mandated war crimes type of issues. 

His mom goes to say something, but a knock at her office door stops her. She finally looks up from her computer and makes eye contact with the interrupter, and says, “Oh, come in, Mr. Drake.”

Wes has to physically stop himself from whipping around, “Oh, hey, Tim! What’s up?” 

This is it. He’s finally figured out what I figured out and now he’s come for my kneecaps.

Okay, that was dramatic, even for him. He was making the Bats sound like a little family of mob members. Really, they were just superheroes. They couldn’t do anything harmful to Wes. At least not physically.

….Would they erase his memories? Is mind-fucking considered physical harm? 

Wes breaks into a nervous sweat. 

“I just want to help Wes out with his coffee run,” Tim explains with that charming Wayne smile that wins the hearts of anyone who feels. “I hope you don’t mind me going out with your son, Penny?” 

“Not at all,” his mom answers. “Have fun, boys. Oh, and Mr. Drake?”

“Yes?”

“Tell your brother to stop flipping off the cameras every time he spots paparazzi.” 

Tim winces, “I’ll send the message, but we can’t really run a business and control Jason at the same time.”

Jason Todd. As in Red Hood, the second Robin. The one who was pronounced dead overseas, but was miraculously found safe and somewhat sound several years later. Fantastic.

Wonder how much of that death was real? Wes has had enough ecto-exposure thanks to his stalking hijinks in Amity Park to know when he’s around others who have been touched by Death. He’s about 60% sure he could clock that in Jason Todd if he ever happened to get near him. 

Hopefully while in his civilian persona. Wes is uninterested in meeting any more vigilantes, thank you very much. 

They say their goodbyes to his mom and he gets up to follow after Tim, his knees a little wobbly. How long can he pretend to be nervous about hanging out with the guy who signs not just his paycheck, but his mom’s? 

They walk through the PR Department and make it to the elevator, painstakingly going through the motions of small talk. Wes is aware of every word he utters, carefully asking himself what could be taken the wrong way, and what is innocuous enough to say. 

“So what did you want from Batbucks?” he asks as the elevator lowers. 

“Oh, the same as what you got last time,” Tim answers, and Wes abides by that request with a single press of a button. Their conversation moves to favorite TV shows as they leave WE and head to the crosswalk to make it to the Batbucks across the street, and once there, Wes pushes the check-in button to signal to the baristas that he’s there for pickup whenever the order is finished, and they take a seat against a wall and far from the windows. 

“A Trekkie, huh?” Tim asks when Wes tells him his top five TV shows. “And a crime fan, too.”

Wes shrugs, fiddling with his fingers, “I like to figure out the ending before the characters do, and honestly, I just like George Takei.”

Tim tilts his head, “That’s fair. I like crime shows, too.”

Haha yeah, I bet you do.

“What’s your favorite?” Wes obligingly asks. 

“Oh, Criminal Minds, easily. Spencer’s a great character.” 

Wes wonders how a person with two full-time jobs like Tim has time for hobbies that include 40-minute episodes. 

“You just like seeing characters in pain, don’t you?” 

“I do not!” Tim protests, affronted. “I just think he’s a good character! With good development!” 

“That’s what I’d say, too,” Wes teases. 

Tim shakes his head, “You’re impossible. He’s just a good character! He’s so smart and awkward. What’s not to love?” 

Wes gives a half-shrug, “I mean, I guess that’s fair. He is a good character. But I’m more of a Garcia person.”

“They really make the show,” Tim agrees. “Their dynamic is iconic.”

“Speaking of iconic….” Wes takes a deep breath disguised as a sigh. Okay, so if he were going to be interrogated, it would have happened by now. So it’s probably not happening unless he’s going to see a Bat on the fire escape tonight. But if he can just reveal a tiny bit of his hand—just a little smidge—maybe he can avoid suspect altogether. 

“Yeah?” 

“I have to ask,” Wes says nervously. “It’s definitely not my business, but yesterday, when I dropped off the coffees…. I kind of saw the picture of that villain? And I was wondering… who told Mr. Wayne that the villain had a sticker of a My Immortal quote? Who had to explain to him what My Immortal is?” 

Because surely Tim knows, if not from having read the infamous fic then from doing research about the villain. 

Tim smirks and says, “That’s the best part, Wes. Bruce already knew.” 

He choked on air, “You’re kidding me!”

“I’m not. I’m really, really not. You didn’t hear this from me, but,” Tim pauses, giving a playful, sneaking look around for any listeners, and he whispers, “my brother Dick referenced it so much that Bruce read it himself.” 

“Bruce Wayne. Read My Immortal.” The fucking Batman read My Immortal? Willingly? 

“Oh yeah, he did.” 

“Did… did he recognize the quote? Did he remember?” 

“No, but he did when Dick said, ‘Damn, I hope Batman puts his middle finger up at that prep villain.’” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Wes knows he’s getting a modified version of what really happened, but he can fill in the gaps. Nightwing quoted My Immortal to Batman. And Batman recognized it because he once read the fic in an effort to relate to his teenage son. 

Well, vigilantes are human, too. Why shouldn’t Batman know who Vampire and Bloody Mary are? 

The next few minutes pass in friendly conversation before their order name is called, and both get up to collect. Wes tries to get two out of the three carton holders, but Tim intercepts. 

“Tim,” he says, half-chastising. 

“I just like helping! And this is getting me out of a board meeting.” 

Wes’s face screws up in distaste. “Well, that’s fair, then.” 

They make their way back to the 73rd floor of Wayne Enterprises and they are hounded in the way that has become so expected for Wes. A new addition to the coffee delivery is Rebecca’s eyes lighting up upon seeing that Tim is helping Wes. 

“Did you like last night’s meme, Mr. Drake?” Rebecca asks, collecting her venti iced mocha latte.

Tim nods, “I did. Nice work on the Photoshop. And the filming equipment should be down today.” 

Wes watches as Rebecca does her best not to squeal in excitement, “Thank you, sir!” 

He nods and turns to Wes, “I’ll see you later, yeah?” His black bangs do nothing to hide the way his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Wes nods wordlessly, his throat suddenly tight and full. Tim’s smile widens and he leaves for the elevator. 

When the doors close on his figure, Rebecca jams her index and middle fingers into Wes’s ribs, “Oh my god, were you two on a coffee date?” 

“Ow, Rebecca, what? No! He just wanted to escape the board.” Wes rubs his ribs comfortingly, his muscles stinging. “That hurt, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” She’s not sorry at all. “Do you think we can get him to do a TikTok for us?” 

He spares a glance at the elevator, which has long since taken Tim up to whatever floor he haunts. “Maybe? It’d make sense, considering the whole CEO thing. Why wouldn’t he be in a TikTok at some point?”

“No reason,” she says, but there’s a fire in her eyes and a mischievous cut to her grin that she fails to hide behind her coffee. Wes’s gut curdles in dread. 

“You terrify me.”

“Thanks! Now come to my office. You need to practice your lines for the TikTok.”

“I feel like my mom has to sign some kind of release form if I’m going to be on the WE TikTok,” he warns, but dutifully follows after her. “Also, you have a cubicle. Not an office.” 

“Hush, or I’ll take away your stool. And your mom already signed one, so ha.” 

“Hushing.” He mimes the action of locking his lips and throwing away the key. 

“Ugh, you’re adorable.” 

They get to the cubicle and each takes a seat, Rebecca immediately sorting through several stacks of papers before making a triumphant noise and handing him a sheet. Wes takes it and stares at it uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. 

“Rebecca, this is just stage directions and the lines to that Cunk on Earth audio.” 

She nods, “And if we get the TikTok approved fast enough, maybe we’ll even post it when the trend is still semi-popular.” 

“And what will I be actually saying?” 

“Don’t worry about that. Just focus on being able to lip sync.” 

“Oh boy."

xxXxx

Wes had thought he would have at least a few days to get used to the idea of having his face plastered all over the internet. Unfortunately, it would seem he underestimated Rebecca’s work ethic when it came to something she wanted because she only made him do three retakes, and then she made quick work of editing. Wayne Enterprises' first-ever TikTok would be ready to go live in the morning with his mother’s and Tim’s approval. 

The TikTok in question is Wes standing in the Wayne Enterprises lobby, smiling wide and happy at the camera when he first begins talking: “It’s hard to believe I’m walking through the ruins of the first ever city.” He pauses, drops the smile, and says, “Because I’m not: that’s in Iraq, which is miles away, and fucking dangerous.” Then, he holds up two cartons of coffee into the camera frame, all filled with (secretly) empty paper venti cups, and is swarmed by various WE employees who volunteered (or were coerced by Rebecca) to be in the TikTok. 

Rebecca doesn’t let him see exactly how she subtitled the video, but he can guess. And sure enough, when the TikTok profile and video simultaneously go live the next day and Wes sees it, he is proven mostly right. 

“It’s hard to believe I’m the new face of Wayne Enterprises’ official TikTok. Because I’m not: I’m just an intern, and I get the f*cking coffee.” 

Rebecca had even captioned it as if he were the one writing and posting: It’s at least a paid internship. The words are then followed by a string of hashtags. Well, that just goes to show that you can’t trust corporations’ social media, even if they do try to come across as real and friendly and like a person who could be your friend. Parasocial relationships are dangerous, who knew?

“The likes and comments are coming in fast,” Rebecca says, staring down at the WE phone that Tim had sent down with the filming equipment to use for the WE TikTok. She’s also done more than she needed to with it, downloading other social media and logging into them on her personal profiles. Wes didn’t comment on it, even if he did think it was not the smartest move, but she said it was so she could get away with “studying” current trends easier. 

“It is Wayne Enterprises,” he remarks. “It’d be like if, I dunno, if Superman finally downloaded TikTok. But, like, this is more corporate greed than ‘protecting humanity’ type of thing.”

“That’s true,” she nodded. “But I mean, the Waynes are pretty generous. I make more here than I would anywhere else.”

“Yeah, fair. And paid internships aren’t exactly common, either.” 

Wes wouldn’t admit it, but while he’d given up on proving the Fenton-Phantom conspiracy and other identities, he did still have a bit of a stalking problem. So when Google sent him a news alert about the Waynes making a press statement about the break-in, he immediately hit it to read the article while Rebecca read new comments on TikTok aloud for him to hear. 

The Waynes Speak About Break-in At WE

The article discusses how grateful they were to Batman and his flock for stopping the break-in, even if they hadn’t caught the new villain. Really, it’s just a puff piece about the Princes of Gotham’s perception of the Knights of Gotham. And considering Wes’s insider knowledge, the article comes across as a little condescending and self-praising, and he’s close to exiting the website when a throwaway comment near the end of the article catches his eye, and he reads on. 

VV: And are you at liberty to say what the villain was looking for? Is it something we should have our eyes on?

BW: [laughs] Well, it’s something that has been spoken about before, I believe? I think Tim could tell you more about it than me. He’s definitely got the brains. You know, when he was—

TDW: Haha, thanks, B! I can’t give too much away because the lead scientist on the project, Dr. Michelle Amir, will get upset, but I can say that we’re expecting a breakthrough in renewable energy. 

VV: Are you sure that’s all you can tell us? 

TDW: I’m afraid so. Dr. Amir is very protective of her research.

VV: And it would seem with good reason! It’s a good thing Gotham’s own….

…And the interview returns to preaching the Batfamily’s praises.

Wes has to roll his eyes at the Brucie Wayne persona trying to take every conceivable opportunity to gush about his children. 

Still, he recognizes that the article was published just a few hours after the TikTok started to go viral. Any reports about the WE break-in will be buried under tabloids dissecting the new TikTok profile and what this means for future WE advertisements. Clever, and exactly what he expects from the Bats. 

As he exits the website, a text notification pops up at the top of his screen. It’s from Tucker Foley and all it says is, “YOU!” in all caps. 

He sighs as a rush of other texts hit his phone from his classmates at Casper High, some even including the link to the TikTok. 

And so it begins. 

xxXxx

Tag List: 

@theamazingfox @quietlyscared @lumosfeather18581  @blankliferain @amercurio @gin2212 @starscreamlover @hoarder-of-gender

If you want to be added to the Tag List, just ask in the replies 💙

[sourcreammachine]

LOONY PARTY MANICFESTO 2024 SUMMARY

[not a pejorative, party founder Screaming Lord Sutch was himself bipolar]

tdlr: “we are fighting this election on the basis of CHANGE… LOOSE CHANGE as this is all we’ll have left under a labour/conservative government”

💷ECONOMY

reduce taxes to 5%

get rid of value-added tax as it adds no value

ban the tipping of flies

convert number 10 and number 11 into a hairdressers called Government Cuts

abolish stamp duty because stamps are too expensive

fit airbags to the stock exchange, ready for the next crash

halve dole queues by making jobseekers stand two-by-two

improve quitters’ self-esteem by encouraging them not to start in the first place

🏥PUBLIC SERVICES

employ 80.00 teachers, police officers and nhs staff

reduce pregnancy from nine to seven months

reduce hospital waiting lists by using a smaller font

reduce class sizes by shrinking desks and making students sit closer together

glue unruly pupils together because if you can’t beat them, join them

give pensioners an ice lolly allowance when temperatures exceed 70°

🏠HOUSING

build five million new homes

aid “levelling up” by providing free spirit levels

🚄TRANSPORT

fill five million potholes

introduce an ROT to make sure all roads are carworthy

fit vehicles with a bungy rope to save fuel on the return journey

save money on paint by painting double-yellow lines where you CAN park rather than where you can’t

create the world’s biggest carwash by punching holes in the channel tunnel

👮FORCE

send all MPs who misbehave to rwanda

reduce net migration by making sure all nets are secured firmly to the ground

make terrorists wear little bells so we know where they are

replace border guards with GP receptionists to stop anyone getting in

introduce a court of human lefts

reduce prison overcrowding by releasing innocent prisoners

oppose capital punishment as it is not fair to londoners

🌱CLIMATE

wind farms to be constructed across the country where all will be encouraged to break wind

get more green cars on the road, with politicians having fluorescent green so everyone can see them coming

paint the grey squirrels red

greyhound racing will be banned to stop the country going to the dogs

puddles deeper than 7cm will be marked with a plastic duck

🗳️DEMOCRACY

MPs will have to sit in stocks during surgeries while constituents throw custard pies at them. companies to be encouraged to design new stocks, to be sold at the stock exchange

introduce a “cooling-off period” to allow voters to change their mind

replace the foreign secretary with a UK one

[czartedition]

PERSIST This week everyone who participated in the Umbral Wings Dragon Tarot Deck is able to publicly reveal their full card art!

So here's the final art for my tarot card contribution, the Nine of Fire (Nine of Wands equivalent)!

This card speaks to standing strong in the face of adversity and exhaustion, ready to push through to the finish line. Upright it says that you are so, so close, and can be assured that good things are eventually coming if you maintain your position and keep trying. This absolutely resonated with me personally at the moment, so I'm really grateful to have been assigned something I could pour my honest state of being into. True to form, I struggled with aspects of this piece as well - but in the end, here it is.

I based my dragon design on a greyhound, as they too are made to endure less than ideal conditions before finding hope in the form of retirement to a loving home.

If you'd like this and many other wonderful dragon illustrations in the form of a beautiful foil-stamped tarot deck, there are still nine days left to grab a copy of your own.

[saywhatjessie]

I'm just hoping for some mistletoe

Day eight of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 8: Under the Mistletoe Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.2k[Ao3]

“Ayyy!” A cheer went up from all the greyhounds as Moe and Declan kissed in the middle of the dressing room, the team stamping their feet and pumping their fists.

“There’s no way this isn’t an HR violation,” Roy noted, glaring mistrustfully at the innocuous white berried plant hanging from the ceiling.

Beard’s expression didn’t change, standing next to Roy in the coach’s office and watching them through the window. “It’s not compulsory. Smooching is strictly up to player discretion.”

Roy grunted. “Yeah, but what about fucking peer pressure? This bunch of idiots would do anything for each other.”

“Well it’s all about mutual respect and trust, isn’t it?” Nate said from his other side. “They all trust each other to know it’s not that serious and respect each other enough not too push too far. I don’t think Isaac’s kissed anyone, nor Paul or Jeff, out of respect for their wives.” He shrugged. “The team seem fine with it.”

Roy growled, mildly. 

“I got caught under there with Jan,” Beard commented. “Surprisingly gentle.”

Roy turned to look at him fully, his face screwed up with outrage. “What, they expect us to participate?”

“Mistletoe is rated E for everyone,” Beard noted. “Consenting, of course.”

“Well I don’t consent. I’m not doing it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

“Sure.”

“And too Jewish! Why should I subscribe to your Christian centric traditions?”

“Fair point, Mr. Kent.”

Roy glared at him. Beard’s expression still gave nothing away but Roy could tell he was amused. He turned his gare on Nate who looked back up at him innocently.

“Fuck off,” he barked at both of them before slamming into the locker room and yelling at everyone to get on the pitch.

Roy suffers through watching most of his team kiss under that fucking mistletoe over the following weeks. There was Richard and Thierry, Kyle and Dani, O’briend and Robbie, Colin and Jamie, Sam and Jamie, Will and Jamie.

Jamie spent a lot of time under the mistletoe.

“S’just fun, innit?” Jamie said one evening when Roy hadn’t quite asked about it. “I love the lads. Love kissing.” He shrugged. “Feels like a win-win.”

Roy grunted.

Jamie continued to hum, unbothered, as his feet kicked back against Roy’s cabinets. “He was sat on the counter next to the stove as Roy cooked, being a general nuisance. Roy doesn’t know why he doesn’t kick him out – he’d never invited Jamie over for dinner. Jamie just showed up one day and Roy fed him. And he’d kept showing up and Roy had kept feeding him. It was mad.

“I’m pretty sure Jack is Jewish,” Jamie said. abruptly. “and he definitely kissed Tommy the other day when they got caught in it.”

“Okay?” Roy said, flummoxed.

“I’m just sayin’” Jamie said, watching his finger trace idly over the counter next to his hip. “You’ve been avoiding it like the plague it seems like and Beard said you objected on religious grounds.”

Roy’s eyebrows hiked up. “You asked Beard? Why I haven’t kissed anyone?”

“Well, no. Kind of.” Jamie’s brows furrowed. “I was talking to Sam and Will overheard and said the coaches were talking about it and then Beard just kind of appeared like the creepy cryptic shit he is.”

Roy grunted. Yeah, that sounded about right.

“And then I guess I asked him, yeah. And he said you said you were too Jewish.”

“I did say that,” Roy told him, watching as Jamie nodded in disappointed understanding.

Roy paused, not sure if he wanted to ask the next question, but needing to know the answer.

“Why were you and Sam talking about me.”

Jamie’s cheeks went red, the blush going down his neck and disappearing down his collar. “Nothing, mind your business, grandad.”

Roy put down his spoon. The sauce could simmer for a bit while he dealt with this.

He leaned back against the island counter opposite the sulking footballer on his counter. “Jamie?”

Jamie sighed, turning his head to face Roy.

“Sam asked me why I hung out so much under the mistletoe. I told him I was just waiting for you to wander close enough.”

Jamie sat there, chin jutted out, defiant and scared. He kept full eye contact with Roy during his confession but, hey. no one had ever said the little prick was lacking in courage.

Roy took a step toward him, uncrossing his arms. “So you were just going to ambush me into kissing you?”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna assault you or nothin. Just thought maybe you needed inventive or something. Plausible deniability or whatever.”

“Incentive,” Roy corrected, gruffly and automatically. He took another step forward, hand on Jamie’s knee. “You think I’d need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you? Like I don’t know I could have kissed you any time I wanted?”

“Well you haven’t yet,” Jamie said, bitchily. “Not sure what you’ve been waiting for, honestly.”

“Well who says I want to, Tartt?”roy asked, his voice low, as he stepped even closer, putting himself between Jamie’s spread thighs. “What makes you so special?”

Jamie spread his legs wider, making room for Roy and smirked, challengingly. “Please.”

And then Roy had to kiss him. Just to get that stupid smug look off his face.

Jamie didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, his hands immediately coming up to pull him in closer by his shoulders and grip onto his hair. His groan sounded a lot like ‘Finally’.

It went on for long enough for Roy to become familiar with what the back of Jamie’s teeth tasted like but Jamie still whined when he pulled away.

Roy laughed, dropping his forehead against Jamie’s. “Did you really think I was gonna do that in front of the whole team?”

“Well how was I supposed to know you’d kiss me like that?” Jamie grinned his shark grin. “I knew you were obsessed with me but fuck.”

“Prick,” Roy said, maybe a little fondly.

“Yup!” Jamie agreed brightly. “You should kiss me some more about it.”

Roy did. The sauce burned.

A couple weeks later, they were back in the locker room.

“Coach, can you come look at this for me?” Dani asked, beckoning Roy/

Roy grunted, meeting him by the benches and everyone started ooh-ing.

He looked up at the, startled, and saw that several of them were gesturing at the ceiling, where a little white berried plant hung.

“Fucking hell,” Roy cursed, glaring around at them. “It’s the tenth of January!”

“Yeah, weird that’s still up there.” Roy whirled around to see that Dani had vanished and Jamie now stood in his place, face overly casual and hands curled in the bottom of his shirt. He shrugged. “Nothing for it, though, is there?”

Roy raised an eyebrow at Jamie. Jamie raised an eyebrow back.

“I hate you,” Roy told him.

“Yeah?” Jamie grinned. “Show me how much.”

And Rolled his eyes, pulling Jamie in to kiss him. The team’s hooting and hollering didn’t stop for five full minutes.

[countessklair]

i disagree with most of the fandom's takeaway from the episode. i want to preface this all by saying that i don't hate Nate and i think he's a very complex character with traumas and issues of his own that led to his whole new thing of 'evil' or whatever that Rupert's pushing him into further now, but still.

Nate knew what he was doing by destroying the sign. that's why he did it in the first place. he was angry and hurt and he wanted to cut the team and Ted, especially, very deep. so he destroyed the sign and left for 'the enemy' who'd offered him a job. he's been shit-talking them and their beloved coach Ted in the press all preseason and ostensibly all season so far.

and yes, the goldfish mentality and the 'let it flow' from episode one are very good for the team, and they've managed to ignore Nate shit talking post episode one, but they have every right to be furious with Nate. he essentially spat of the uniting element that makes them all better teammates, better players, better people. they used to be pretty not great people, bullying Nate being the biggest but only one of the examples therein, but the team's all changed their behavior and they learned and became better people. they respected Nate as a coach and as a fellow Greyhound and they supported and even loved him. and Nate betrayed them.

just the move to west ham i think they would have been supportive of. they wouldn't have held it against him for wanting a head coaching position. but the move, plus the shit talking, PLUS the ripping of the believe sign?? that's the betrayal. it's layered, and of course it cuts deep when the sign represents so much more than the word emblazoned on it. the sign has become a representation of Richmond itself. and they were already looking for answers, they would've figured out who ripped it eventually. i definitely think that they shouldn't have told the team at half-time, and i agree on the thing coach beard said about them overcorrecting and playing with hate, but still. i think the team has every right to be angry.

sometimes people forget that you have to FEEL your emotions in order to process them. and that more importantly it's ok and even GOOD to feel those emotions, and that feeling anger or hatred aren't necessarily 'evil' emotions. if someone hurts you and stamps and spits on your values and your beliefs, if someone you thought of as family betrayed you, that's not something you can just be a goldfish about or let it flow through you and pass you by. it's a deep cutting wound, and that's why Nate, in his fit of fury at the promotion, ripped the sign in the first place anyway. because he knew how deeply it would hurt them not only to have the sign defaced, but for it to be HIM doing it. the team is gonna have to process this and hopefully now that they have the initial fury all out they'll be able to deal with it in a healthy Ted Lasso show way we all love. also, ever since the introduction of Zava to the team, there's been a severe disconnect between the team and the Ted Lasso way: remember that scene in the locker room with Zava physically stepping in front of Ted every time he moved to try and look at the team?

i fully believe that Nate will get a redemption arc, and i fully believe he deserves one. but i don't think Nate fans remember sometimes that it's never a friend's job to always be stroking someone's ego and to be the personal caretaker of their mental health and social equilibrium, especially when that friend themselves have big, BIG issues going on in their personal life. Ted was never responsible for Nate's happiness and ego and he shouldn't be treated like he is. he recognized talent and he rewarded that talent accordingly and gave Nate a platform to grow on. Nate's paternal trauma didn't allow him to reach out and communicate with Ted about feeling left behind, and that sucks and it's not Nate's fault that he has those issues to contend with, but it's not the team or Roy's or Ted's fault either.

fact of the matter is, no one is the villain but Rupert. Nate made some hurtful choices that the people he hurt have every right to be upset over, and the biggest one - outing Ted's very private mental health issues (imo mental health issues being way way worse to out than physical health issues) isn't something anyone on the team but Ted and Beard and Trent are aware of. there will be a redemption arc, and i believe there will be forgiveness, but i don't know if Nate will ever come back to Richmond. I think maybe a fresh new start outside of both Richmond AND West Ham would be best for him, because he needs to get out from under Rupert, but i think there's just too much history at Richmond, even without factoring in Ted.

tl;dr: nate will get the redemption arc he needs and deserves but that doesn't free him of having to face the fact that he hurt people deliberately, that he needs to apologize. there has to be consequences for his actions. next episode i need there to be a 'come to jesus' moment for the whole team to process this hurt together and to get back on track with the Ted Lasso way.

also: the richmond team are all my angels and i love them dearly and i'm SO GLAD this episode had very little to do with Zava.

[sequ0iart]

sketchbook dump because I haven't had time to actually draw lately🤕

info on individual pages below:

Img 1: Just some old trucks I found on pinterest, I've been into old cars lately lol.

Img 2: rough drawing of an electrical pylon, seen out a greyhound window.

Img 3: AWESOME HUGE HAWK that landed right next to me. They seemed too big to be red-tailed so if anyone knows what they might've been feel free to let me know!

Img 4: I wanted to try sewing in sketchbook and then I kinda just let it go from there.

Img 5: two-headed baby bird's mama feeds her ribbons.

Img 6: I've been playing with making stamps out of cheap pink erasers. It's low stakes and has kinda become a fidget/stim for me lol.

[sonjatwogreyhounds]

VERTRAGUS ON STAMPS

the #sighthound #bulletin

[blistexenthusiast]

19th century antique wax seals

[cryptid-crusader]

Sad stuff about my dog passing under the cut.

Two days ago, we had to say goodbye to Tiny.

Tiny came into my life nearly six years ago when I first met Tony. One of his signs of affection was growling and grumbling (even snarling if he was getting really into it), but the first time I met him and Tony told me that I remember thinking ‘heh heh yeah I think this dog actually hates me’. :)

How wrong I was.

Tiny was the sweetest and most endearing creature, he loved everyone he ever met. I know everyone thinks this of their pet, but he really was the sweetest and best boy on the planet earth. I loved him so much. I never bonded with a dog like I bonded with Tiny. I have had many sweet dogs in my life that I have loved very deeply, but with each one of them there was always the distinct divide that they weren’t really *my* baby.

But Tiny WAS my baby. Some people may find this silly, but he was one of my best friends, he was my family. I would often even make the stupid joke that I ‘birthed’ him and that he was just like his father because honestly, he really was. He was perfect for us.

Our Bub was so funny and unique, unlike any dog I had ever met. He had anxiety out the wazoo and would often cry and whine in despair if Tony and I were in separate rooms from him, let alone gone from the house (that would evoke yodeling that could be heard to the heavens). He loved to flop around and stamp his big clumsy feet on the back of your legs as he followed after you through the apartment. Though greyhounds are known as being couch potatoes, crawling up on furniture scared him, so he would mostly just walk up to you and insert his little pea head in your armpit and grumble happily while you loved on him. If you parked yourself on the floor next to him for cuddles, he was prone to get over excited and be unable to chill out because he was so excited you were near. He was pretty nervous around other dogs, but loved whenever people would come by for a visit. He was easily spooked by noises and wind was the worst-it was like a horrible noise you could also feel. He didn’t like snow and if he was in it too long, he would get super dramatic about his ‘frosty paws’ and lift his feet up while giving you the most pathetic look ever so that you would carry him big old body inside (but he had no idea how to handle booties, so the dramatics were his only option).

But he was getting old, very old for a bigger dog, and his body started to stop working like it should. This past summer when I was on vacation his back legs stopped working for a while, and though he had good days mixed with the not so good ones, he never truly recovered and was only getting worse.

Towards the very end, he could barely walk. He couldn’t get up on his own, we has to help lift him and support him a bit to stabilize him. He couldn’t clean himself or potty without assistance-we had to hold him or he would topple over when he’d go. He’d cry at night because he didn’t have the strength to reposition himself, and when he would potty he would have to go out about every 2 hours (sometimes more) because he wasn’t strong enough to get it all out in one go.

It was obvious the end was coming and that things were only going to get worse. He was on so many meds that were becoming increasingly less effective. The only other option to help with his legs was surgery, but Tiny was so old and anxious and the vet upset him so much we knew we didn’t want to put him through that. There was also a large lump forming on one of his legs we were pretty sure was a tumor, but we couldn’t be certain without more vet visits.

When we made the appointment, I felt really guilty. Every other pet I’ve had that has passed went on their own, so it felt strange and heartbreaking to schedule something like this. Waiting was horrible and I just tried not to think about it in the days leading up to it. The night before Tiny was being very snuggly and calm, letting us sit and lay with him when that usually got him all riled up. I think he knew and I think he was trying to show us that it would be OK.

The morning of was peaceful. He filled up on his favorite wet food and I was beside him petting him the whole day, telling him how much we love him and how he was the best boy ever. When the vet came from Lap of Love I was really, really concerned with how they would be. We never met them before and I was so concerned it would feel awkward and fake or patronizing. Dr. Meredith was incredible though, we truly could not have asked for a kinder human being. She was so sweet to Tony and I and Bub. As a final treat we gave him some chocolate ice cream and he LOVED it. When she injected him with the drugs that made him sleepy, he fell asleep with his nose in the bowl. His passing was quick, painless, and peaceful. He was surrounded by the people that loved him.

But now he is gone and there is a void.

Everything reminds me of him. I wake up and the first thing I think is “I need to take Bub out.” I keep thinking I need to check his water bowl and get his breakfast/dinner ready. I used to complain so much about how he’s get kibbled everywhere in the apartment (he had no teeth and a floopy tongue so eating was always a free for all), but now it seems like a dumb thing to gripe about. I would let him get 10,000 kibbles on the ground and never make a complaint if it means I could have him back and healthy.

I hear a noise outside or someone knocking and I think “oh no Bub is gonna be upset, I better make sure he’s OK.” When he first passed I heard Tony walk in the other room and thought the sound of his feet on the carpet was Bub panting. I instinctively look for him is his usual spot in the living room and get heartbroken each time I realize he isn’t there. I went for a walk yesterday and when I put my hand in my jacket pocket, I started to cry when I felt one of the bags I used to pick up his droppings (who ever thought a poop bag would make me emotional?). I am putting off putting my laundry away because he would always come in the bedroom multiple times while I put it away, seeking pets and affection while I tried to get chores done. Whenever I come home, I miss him greeting me. Even at the end when he could barely walk or stand on his own, he always ALWAYS stood up and came to the door to meet me when I came home. His big goofy grin, greeting me so earnestly every time.

Today was my first day back to work, and it sucked going through the routine without Bub there. I used to kiss his little dog bean before starting my shift each morning ‘for luck’.

The apartment seems so empty with him gone. I miss him so much. I love him so much, and I hope he knows how much we loved him and just how special he was. There will never be another Bub, and life is much lesser with him gone. I kept telling him that Tony and I will be OK, and we will be, but we will never stop missing him and loving him.

I know he is with Meow Meow now, and I hope that when she met him she greeted him with purrs and snuggles.

Here’s to Tiny, our Bubber, the best baby old man actual infant adult grown man in the universe. I love you, I love you, I love you, and thank you for being in my life. Thank you for bringing us happiness. Thank you for picking Tony that day and becoming our son. I will never forget you.

[mikathemonster]

Hi there, I hope you have a good day 😊

I was wondering about your prompt list, and I really like the dialogue prompt 2 and situation prompt 4. And if you would be comfortable with writing something based on this I would really appreciate it😊

"wishes on starlight"

author's note: what a combo! this one actually had me stumped for a bit on how to tackle it, so I applaud you for helping me work through my current writer's block. this also gave me a chance to work on my dividers (I made them a little thinner, and so far I like it). also, I'm not sure which character you wanted for this, so I took the liberty of choosing for you :)

based on this prompt post!!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 7,367

summary: when trouble came in the form of unexpected guests, you never expected to give your heart away so easily...

content warnings: I pull more background from the book versus the movies in this one for the sake of Beorn (love him but he might be a little OOC), fluff, yearning, mutual pining, angst <333

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

For all your life, the buzz of oversized bees had been nothing but comforting to your ears. A gentle reminder of kinder times. But today your fuzzy friends had been buzzing with curiosity and uncertainty. You had heard it earlier just after the master of the house had left but had paid no mind to it. After all, you had chores to be done around the house.

Soon, Beorn had returned from checking on the bees in his surrounding pastures. He came in with his usual rough countenance, his face worn from the sun and the smell of honey and oak lingering about him. You had heard him come in all the way from the back of the house, his heavy feet making thumps on the hardwood floors. There was no need to greet him; you knew well that the skin-changer liked his loneliness. Thinking back on it, you were surprised he let you stay with him at all when he could have easily given you away or left you in the woods all those years ago. You smiled to yourself as you folded some of the leftover laundry, thinking of the tall man’s kindness. 

But your thoughts soon drifted away as more thumps and stomps could be heard, this time coming from the back of the house where the stables were located. Curious, you abandoned your laundry and followed the sound to see some of your friends stamping the ground with a worrying intensity. Their hooves dug into the ground beneath them, and you furrowed your brows in worrying confusion. “Is everything alright, what is it?” You asked them, and it sounded like animal noises turned into talk, for you had come to learn the language of Beorn’s animals in all your time with him. The only language that seemed to escape you was that of his own bear tongue.

“Strangers,” they said. “We saw strangers on the eastern side.” You bit the inside of your cheek, worrying what outsiders could imply for your comfort and home. 

“You should go tell him, then,” you said, referring to Beorn. “They may try to wander this way.”

“And if they do?” They asked, their well-groomed hair shining as it caught the light when they stamped their hooves.

“That’s for him to find out,” you said, nodding. After all, he was the master of the house. Your friends were also quick to leave you as they made their way to the entrance of the house to let Beorn know of what they had seen. You sighed to yourself, hoping nothing troublesome would come out of it. But of course, you had to be wrong.

Trouble soon came to your doorstep fifteen-fold as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a tall grey wizard joined you all for dinner that night. You yourself hadn’t come out into the dining hall to join them yet, still skeptical of them all. It wasn’t common for a group of this size to be openly wandering in the Wilderland. You wondered about their purpose, and whispered about it with your friends in the back of the house. But this time, you spoke with the greyhounds of the house instead of the horses.

“Y/N, you missed it,” one said with excitement. “They told such a grand story of how they came to find themselves here. Full of adventure, it was!”

“Yes, yes! They’ve been through all kinds of adventures, both scary and jolly,” said another. 

“And what did Beorn think of these adventures?” You had asked.

“Why, he loved it!” They said. “He knows not if it was the truth, but it was still a grand story nonetheless!”

“Then I suppose I shall have to see for myself,” you said, and off you went to join the dinner party with a twitch in your skeptical brow. Through the corridors, you found yourself in the dining hall, the light from the fireplace dancing about and casting warm shadows on the walls. For a moment, you were taken aback at the sight of such company. The wooden hall had not seen this many people or even such a gathering as this for quite some time. So long, in fact, that you couldn’t seem to remember your edge you had experienced earlier, your suspicion melting away for a moment as you realized how lovely it seemed to have company.

Who knows for how long you stood there watching, but it was enough for the grey wizard man to notice you, as he raised a brow and asked a question to Beorn after seeing you. Shifting in his chair at the head of the table, Beorn invited you over with a wave of his hand. “Y/N, come feast with us. I was just about to tell them about the woods of this land.”

Reluctantly, you joined him, sitting down on an empty seat that one of your sheep friends brought. Many of the company had already had more than their fair share and then some of food, and you wondered if all dwarves had appetites like this. It wasn’t nearly as much as Beorn ate, nor was it even comparable to say their appetites were rivals, but it still caught your eye nonetheless. Perhaps it was because you had never seen a dwarf, let alone so many at once. “And who is this?” The wizard asked, seated at the other end of the table. 

“Why, this is Y/N. They are my groundskeeper,” Beorn said. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgement, thankful for the introduction.

“A groundskeeper, you say?” One of the dwarves asked. He seemed to be the oldest, with a long white beard that certainly rivaled Beorn’s. And won. “I’d think such a job wouldn’t be necessary with all the help you have from your animals.”

Beorn laughed at this as you slowly began to eat, tearing apart a small honey cake that had caught your eye. “And still with all this help, I have need for more. Y/N helps where they can, and I am grateful.”

You smiled, grateful for such words, though it wasn’t the whole story. Indeed, while you did help around the grounds whenever he was away, it was a little more than just that. Twenty years ago, Beorn’s greyhounds had found you at the edges of Mirkwood’s daunting trees, abandoned by your parents who had wandered into the dark forest. On the first day when his greyhounds told him, Beorn didn’t even bother to come see. Humans were dumb creatures, and far more bold and stupid than he. On the second day, he came to look at you; you were crying and whining from lack of food or water, and he felt a bit of pity. But still, he did nothing, leaving you out in the summer sun in the event your parents would return. But on the third day, when no trace of your parents were left, Beorn knew they had most likely succumbed to the forest. It was only then that he took you in and raised you as his equal, feeding you berries and honey and cakes.

“The animals do much for us, and I in return help them,” you clarified, taking a drink of mead. The fermented liquid warmed your throat as it made its way down.

The rest of the night went smoothly, and soon your suspicions were beginning to evaporate as you all grew to enjoy each other’s company, telling stories of your own lives and such. Beorn cared not for the tales of gold and treasure from the dwarves, but you found yourself fascinated by every outlandish detail. Gems that sparkle just like the stars? You had never seen such a thing, and it puzzled you to think of just how much about the world you didn’t know.

You found yourself enjoying the stories of the little hobbit the most, as his tales seemed much more relatable, filled with carrots, flowers, and farming. He was even a bit of a gardener, which prompted you to ask thousands of questions about plants and the like. Indeed, the night went on much like this, filled with chatter and mead and firelight. Soon, Beorn retired early, heading to the back of the house where he could leave without being noticed. He seemed concentrated on something, and you wondered if he was going to check the credibility of how the dwarves had come to your home. But for now, it was just you and the wizard and the hobbit and the dwarves, who soon began to trickle out to the beds the animals had laid out for them as they dozed off.

You found yourself wide awake this night, sleep escaping you as the white beams of the high moon trickled in from the skylights above in the roofing. Many of the animals had gone to bed as well, the normal sounds of paws and hooves pounding on the wooden floors now absent amidst the quiet deafness of the night. You had kept the fire going up until now, as the final embers slowly began their own descent into death. It was nights like this where your mind seemed to conjure the wildest dreams, both in sleep and while you were awake. You imagined jewels like the dwarves had spoken of, glittering white like pure starlight. You wondered if there were jewels of other various colors, too. Did some shimmer like the scales of the fish in the river? Was it possible for them to glow like the sun on a hot summer day? These were the thoughts on your mind as you lay in the slivers of moonlight shining down on the floor.

But these thoughts were soon interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching. It wasn’t Beorn, for surely he was still out. No, these feet were much smaller and more stout as one of the dwarves had come out from his sleep, his eyes bleary in the dark of the night. It was one of the younger ones, the archer who had sat next to Balin. Kíli, you thought, trying to remember his name. “Can I help you?” You said.

“I heard growling coming from outside these walls,” he whispered through sleepiness. “It woke me up.”

“Ah, so he is near,” you said, muttering mostly to yourself. You must have been too accustomed to such noises as to notice them. “It’s nothing dangerous, as long as you don’t go outside.”

“It’s just as the wizard said, then,” he said, coming closer. “Beorn… does he really… I mean, can he really change his skin?”

“All the time,” you nodded. “But he does it most at night, when he can freely wander these lands.”

“Mahal…” he muttered. It seems he hadn’t believed the wizard earlier, but hearing your words seemed to sway him. “And what of you? Are you also like him?”

“Me?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, I’m afraid I’m more ordinary in that sense. I am nothing more than a man.”

“You’re nothing ordinary if you’re living in such a fine home as this,” he said, and soon he sat himself near you in the moonlight. You didn’t object. “And why are you awake so late in the night?”

“Ah,” you smiled. “I can’t sleep. It seems your stories at dinner have fed my thoughts too well.”

Now it was his turn to chuckle, and you found yourself smiling at his laugh. “So you dream while awake, then? I imagine that’s quite lovely.”

“Do you dream often?” You asked, curious of dwarves and their habits.

Silence fell over him for a moment as his expression fell. “Not lately. At least, not nice ones. The journey has gotten hold over my dreams, for now all I see are frightening images when I close my eyes.”

You frowned, feeling sympathy for the poor dwarf. “I’m sorry to hear that, I didn’t mean to bring up such scary things.”

He gave a small smile at your words, shaking his head. “Don’t worry; I’ve become too used to it lately. I’m glad the growls woke me up, it helped me break free of such dreams for the night.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, wracking your brain for any thought of how to help this man. “Perhaps,” you said. “Perhaps you can tell me of your more beautiful dreams, then?” You scooted yourself closer to him, his hair shining in the moonlight as his eyes met yours.“Alright then,” he smiled, a rosy glow about him. And so the night went on, as he told you wild dreams of hunting and adventure and even ridiculous ones that seemed like utter nonsense.

The next day, as you were tending the gardens in the front yard, Kíli had seemed to want more of your presence. Whenever he wasn’t in discussion with his kin and peers, he was wandering the grounds and looking for you. It didn’t take him long to find you covered in dirt in the morning sun as you worked to check on your carrot and potato plants. “Good morning,” you said. “Did you manage to get any rest last night?”

“I did, yes,” he said, nodding. “Though I had no dreams.”

“Well,” you rose, dusting the soil off of your knees. “I suppose no dreams are better than bad ones.”

“Agreed,” he said, humming in delight. He quite enjoyed talking to you. “And what of you? Did you sleep well?”

“I never slept,” you said, chuckling. “When we parted ways, I still couldn’t find myself tired. Your tales kept me awake yet again. So here I am, still up and about.”

“You astound me,” he looked at you with a twinkle of awe in his eyes. “I’ve been on the journey for quite some time and even I cannot operate well without sleep.”

You sighed, now stepping out of the plant box as you dusted your feet off in the grass. “While it may be more cozy than your travels, I can assure you I am kept well busy. There’s always much to do around the house, especially when Beorn is away.”

“I see,” he stooped, scratching the back of his head. He wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to do so. For once in a very long while, he was anxious in his conversation.

A quiet breeze silenced the both of you now as you both sat in the slight tension that had been caused, but you were quick to get back to work, fetching the water pail so you could rinse the dirt off of you, not wanting to track it into the house. “Well, is there anything I could help you with?” You asked, noticing he still hadn’t left yet. You didn’t necessarily want him to leave, but you didn’t understand why he would stay, either.

“Oh, right. Well,” he muttered, trying to find himself again. Then he drew a breath, and finally met your gaze. “I wanted to ask you of your dreams.” He smiled, and it seemed to beam brighter than the sun itself, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. It was very lovely to see.

“My dreams?” You repeated, raising a brow. “What of them?”

“Last night,” he said, stepping forward to approach you. “Our conversation about dreams and thoughts, it made me wonder what kinds you have, if you have any of your own.”

“If I ever have my own thoughts?” You scoffed.

“Oh my, no! I meant dreams,” he corrected, very quickly too. He seemed a bit nervous. “I loved our conversation, but it felt one-sided. I wanted to know more about you.”

“You’re so forward, Master Dwarf,” you teased, and finally you stopped fiddling with your clothes and the water. “Well, what would you like to know?” You guided him to the other side of the garden where a large oak tree stood, inviting him to sit with you beneath it.

“I suppose whatever you’d like to tell me,” he smiled. “Starting with your dreams?”

“Ah, my dreams,” you nodded, humming to yourself. “If I’m being honest, I forget many of my dreams. They always escape me quickly when I wake up, you see. But I do remember one distinctly.” You smiled as the memory came to mind, thinking on it fondly. Kíli nodded at this, encouraging you to continue. “It started with me gazing at the sky, something I often like to do, when all of a sudden the stars seemed to come alive, dancing and jumping like rabbits in the sky.”

“Rabbits?” He asked, thoroughly intrigued.

“Indeed,” you answered. “And they were brilliant in color, too! With so many shades of blues and greens I have never seen since then. They seemed to come down from the sky and join me, dancing with me in the grass.”

“Do you think of rabbits when you see the stars now?” He said, a smile on his face as he imagined it for himself.

“No, not as rabbits. I think of friends,” you said, smiling softly. “I like to think each star that twinkles is a friend, whether or not I’ve met them yet.”

“Sounds rather warm and fuzzy,” he chuckled.

“Do you disagree?” You asked, raising a brow.

“No, it’s just,” he thought for a moment before he continued. “I always thought it is a cold light, stars. Distant and far away.”

“Well, sometimes friends are far from reach,” you said, drawing a breath. “But that doesn’t take their warmth away whenever you embrace them, does it?”

He smiled, eyes taking you in for a moment, and this was the first time where you couldn’t read his expression. You flushed, clearing your throat to avoid the tension. You felt so seen, but so much so that it made you nervous.

“I’ve seen the stars dance before, once,“ you said, trying to shift the subject. Something about the way that he looked at you made you feel all warm inside, and you didn’t know why. “Three shots across the sky all at once, passing beyond the moon and the mountain.” 

“I saw a fire moon once,” he said, and you turned your head in curiosity, silently begging him to continue. “It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge. Red and gold, it was. It filled the sky.”

“I saw it too!” You grinned, recognizing now of what he spoke. “It peeked over the mountains right over there.” You pointed to the Misty Mountains, showing him where you had seen it. He grinned, turning to face you.

“It was so bright, there was no need for a torch,” he said, and you nodded in agreement. “Oh, it made the caverns shine. I wish I could show you.”

“Perhaps if our paths meet again, you can,” you said, placing your hand over his. He stared at your gesture for a moment before meeting your eyes again, smiling. He nodded.

“I will. I promise.”

Soon, you were interrupted by two beautiful horses approaching you, and you realized you still hadn’t finished your chores for the day. You quickly rose to your feet, brushing yourself off as you offered him a hand. He took it, and you helped him up. “My apologies, but it seems I must return to my duties.” You explained.

“I understand,” he nodded. “I should return to the others.”

You nodded back in acknowledgement and began to walk away when suddenly he caught your arm in his hand, causing you to turn back to face him with a puzzled look on your face.

“Y/N,” he said. “Will I see you again?”

You thought for a moment, envisioning your schedule in your mind. “I live here, so of course,” you said, and he smiled at this. “Tonight.”

“Perhaps you can show me your friends in the sky, then.” He said, and suddenly that weird warm feeling returned in your cheeks.

You didn’t see many of the dwarves for the rest of the day, save for Ori and Dori who seemed positively captivated by the wildflowers that grew in the lush grass surrounding Beorn’s home. Gandalf soon returned to the house as well, just before sunset, a tip of his hat bidding you a welcome as you smiled in return. It seemed he had been rather busy out all day, following along the bear tracks Beorn and his friends had left.

You soon finished much of your chores, ending them by harvesting the honey from the oversized bees just as the sun changed the sky to brilliant shades of pink and orange. You looked up in awe, taking the moment in for just a second as a gentle breeze blew from the mountains. You wondered if the dwarves knew of any gems that looked like a fiery sunset such as this one. Perhaps you would ask Kíli about it later.

When you returned inside from the back of the house, you noted the lack of Beorn’s presence, wondering if he would return tonight or tomorrow. He must be out still, close to the mountains by now. In his true form, it didn’t take long for him to cover much ground by walking or running. You wondered what he was doing out there, lurking in the night. But nights like these were common in your household, so the thought passed almost as quickly as it had come.

Walking into the home, you noticed everyone had already had their fill of dinner provided by the animals, the smell of honey cakes and cream filling your nostrils as you made your way into the kitchen to feed yourself. You put away some of the honey you had harvested today, crouching down to grab some more food out of the cupboards. Some of your dog friends wandered into the kitchen, sniffing you out as they smiled. “Oh, you’re back!” They called.

“Yes, and hungry too,” another remarked. 

You chuckled, sitting on the floor as you ate your fill. “And what have you all done today?”

“We’ve been waiting on the guests,” they said. “Just as Beorn said.”

“They speak of the strangest places!” Another said. “Full of caves and gems!”

“Have you enjoyed their stories?” You asked, munching on your meal.

“Of course,” they said. “Though their songs make me drowsy.”

“Songs? What songs?” You raised a brow, tilting your head a little. But your friends wouldn’t have the chance to answer, for soon a strange humming sound filled the air. This sound caught all of your attention, for soon you rose to creep over into the main hall where everyone sat, the taste of honey on your tongue as the hums of dwarves morphed into song.

The wind was on the withered heath, but in the forest stirred no leaf: there shadows lay by night and day, and dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold, and like a tide it roared and rolled; the branches groaned, the forest moaned, and leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East; all movement in the forest ceased, but shrill and harsh across the marsh its whistling voices were released.

You found yourself entranced by their deep voices as they seemed to boom and echo in the great wooden halls. The fire flickered below the mantle, casting an eerie glow around the room as the shadows of the dwarves danced around you. Thorin and Bofur and Dwalin’s voices were especially recognizable as they stood out the most, their deep and velvety timbres reigning over the voices and hums of the others as the fire crackled in its place. For a moment, you felt as though you could feel the wind they spoke of, their song coming to life in your mind as you imagined the pictures they described. It must have been the same for them as well, for none of them noticed you as you came into the room, too lost in the memory of their melody as they sang.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent, the reeds were rattling—on it went o’er shaken pool under heavens cool where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the lonely Mountain bare and swept above the dragon’s lair: there black and dark lay boulders stark and flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight over the wide seas of the night. The moon set sail upon the gale, and stars were fanned to leaping light.

As the song came to a close, you couldn’t help but feel so deeply sorrowful, as if a part of you too had lost something just as they had. The feeling of the winds around you died down, if they were ever there to begin with, and a smoky aroma filled the air as more embers burned brightly and wildly in the fireplace. A single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away, not wanting to cause a scene. You now had a whole new view of these guests in your home, guests who didn’t have a home of their own.

After dwelling in the moment for a little while longer, Gandalf stood up, bidding that all the dwarves and the lone hobbit should get some rest for the night. He warned them once again to not wander outside during the night, just as Beorn had warned them before. You noticed at the other end of the hall, some of Beorn’s animals were returning from setting up beds for the guests, and you were suddenly reminded that you had left the food out in the kitchen. Now finally brought out of your reverie, you returned to your meal. But you were no longer hungry after hearing such a sad tale and song, and so you found yourself putting the food away, leaving the scraps out for your sheep friends as some of them passed by, heading to the pastures.

By the time you returned to the great hall, many of the dwarves were busy getting comfortable in their beds, save for Kíli, who sat on a bench in front of the fireplace as he watched the sparks dance among the wood and smoke. He looked so tiny in comparison to the bench, it made you smile as you joined him. 

His eyes lit up as he saw you sit down, a smile gracing his features. “You’re here,” he said.

“Am I not supposed to be here?” You questioned. “I live here, you know.”

“Of course,” he laughed. “But I haven’t seen you since this morning.”

“I was busy,” you explained. “I just finished eating in the kitchen.”

“Oh, I see,” he said. “So you heard us?”

You nodded, looking into the fire for a moment, watching the flames dance. “I did. It’s amazing, the way you tell stories. Beorn doesn’t sing, he doesn’t care for it.”

“For us, well, we do it often when longing in the night,” he said. A wistful expression decorated his face as he also turned to look into the flames. Though a smile lingered on his face, it was once again harder to read.

“And what do you long for, Kíli?” You asked, your eyes taking in his features as that weird and warm feeling returned. You liked being close to him. He felt safe. He drew in a breath, seeming to be overwhelmed by the question as he searched his mind for an answer.

“Home,” he spoke. “I long to help my kin reclaim their home. I long for my mother to return to her home. And for myself, I long to find my own meaning of the word.”

“That’s very admirable,” you said. “Your mother, is she far from you?”

“Aye,” he said. “It was tough, having to leave her and join this company. She almost didn’t let me or my brother go. She thinks I’m too reckless.”

You chuckle. “And are you?”

“Nah,” he smiled, teasingly pushing your shoulder with his own, and the contact brought that warm feeling to your face. “And what of you? What do you long for, Y/N?”

You drew a breath, trying not to dwell on how you loved the way he said your name. It was safe to say he was already your favorite guest in your home. “It may sound silly, but ever since you all spoke of gems, I’ve longed to see one. I wonder if they look like stars.”

“Some do,” he said, and your eyes lit up. All your attention was on him. Nothing else existed in this moment, save for the moon and the fire kindling below the mantle. “Some even glow like the moon. But my favorites are the ones as deep as the sky. Oh, I wish I could show you one.”

“A shame, truly.” You sighed.

“But perhaps,” he said, taking your hand in his, and you felt yourself flush at the contact. “Perhaps we can look at the stars and pretend they are gems. And once my kin have reclaimed the mountain and our treasure, I’ll return and bring you jewels as bright as fire and as deep as water.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled, warmth spreading to your cheeks. “You would do that?”

“If it means seeing you again, then I wouldn’t think twice,” he said. You lost your breath for a moment, finding yourself awestruck. 

“But it’s so late in the night for watching stars. Shouldn’t you rest?” You lightly squeezed his hand.

“I can lie awake a moment longer, if it’s with you.” He spoke so earnestly and so easily, as if the words had always existed in his mind, and you suddenly felt so many confusing feelings all at once. You had only just met this man, but already could see that you would miss him dearly when it would come time for him to leave. That warm and fuzzy feeling was growing quite strong the more he spoke.

You stood up, letting the fire die on its own as you took his hand in yours, guiding him up. You trusted him enough for this. “Come, let me show you my favorite place.”

Leading him behind you, you brought him to yours and Beorn’s shared room, which glowed with the pale moonlight that filtered in from another skylight as the light shown on your bed. You sat yourself down on it, inviting him to join you as you pointed up at the moon that showed through the roof. “It always looks the most beautiful here, when I come to sleep. I dream of it often.”

He sat next to you, leaning awfully close as he met where you pointed up at the sky. But you didn’t mind. “I can see why this is your favorite place. The view is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it? It’s even more beautiful during a sunset,” you whispered, excited to have shared this space with a stranger. “All the colors of the sky can be seen, bright oranges and pinks and sometimes even purple.”

Kíli’s eyes beamed as they took in your beauty, a warm smile growing on his face. You wouldn’t be aware, but he hadn’t been speaking of the moon just then, as his gaze lay transfixed on you.

“Well, I’m here to see the stars. So, show me your favorite rabbits,” he said, and you laughed. 

“I told you, I don’t think of them as rabbits,” you corrected, and soon found yourself pointing out various constellations you had come up with yourself. You pointed out each of your favorite stars in the seasonal sky as the moon waned on, which soon prompted Kíli to speak of the constellations of his own people. You listened eagerly, the difference in your lives leaving you to look at him in awe. You two came from worlds apart, and yet here you both were. It was a comforting thought, and soon you found yourself falling asleep to the sound of his soft voice as the both of you lay on your bed looking at the moon.

The next day, you awoke late in the day and alone in your bed, the sound of haughty laughter and cheers in the great hall stirring you awake. Only one person could make such a deep laugh; Beorn must finally be home. A part of you felt upset when you awoke to find Kíli gone, wondering if it had all been a dream, but you were much too excited to see Beorn again that you pushed those thoughts away.

You walked into the great hall to see a wonderful sight of laughter and joy and stories being told as Beorn told the others where he had been over honey and bread and cream. Even your animal friends were all listening, or at least those that could fit in the house. He sat tall and proud at the head of his wooden table as he recounted to the dwarves where he had been for the past two days. You were quick to join them at the table, seating yourself at the end next to Nori as you silently fed yourself on the food placed in front of everyone.

Soon, everyone began enthralled in conversation, with Gandalf and Thorin and Beorn quietly talking amongst themselves of what the rest of their journey would entail. You couldn’t hear much, save for the bits and pieces of Beorn saying he would offer some of his ponies and food to them on their journey, at least until they would make it to Mirkwood. And suddenly you found yourself dwelling in sadness as you realized that everyone, Kíli included, would be leaving soon. It felt like an ache in your chest, though you knew not what it meant. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to see him go just yet.

Silently excusing yourself, you left the great hall and headed through the back door to the stables, needing some fresh air for yourself as you mulled over your feelings and thoughts. None of your horse friends were in the stables, as they were all much too busy grazing in the pastures surrounding your home. And so, seated in the hay in the shade, you pondered to yourself.

You barely knew Kíli, and yet you knew his absence would leave you hurt. Every time he looked at you, you found yourself growing warm and fuzzy and flustered. You had no idea what it meant, but you felt as though being without his smile would be like being without the sun: forever overcast and cloudy. 

But soon, you found yourself no longer alone as the harrowing height of Beorn joined you in the stables, as he came in scratching his beard when he found you upon the hay. “The horses, where have they gone?” He asked.

“Out for a run,” you answered, your voice soft against the wind as the cool breeze passed through the wood of the stable, whispering in the blades of grass between you two.

“And why do you take their place?” He said, his voice deep and coated in honey and cream. 

“I came to breathe,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “But the more I think about it, the less I can feel the air in my lungs.”

“Do you speak of the dwarf?” He asked, and suddenly your eyes widened. How did he know? But he was quick to answer your unspoken question, for he knew you well and could read the question from your face. “I saw him in your bed this morning when I returned.”

“You’re not upset?” You asked, genuinely curious of what he thought of your and Kíli’s relationship.

“I win nothing by pretending to care,” he said. “Besides, he is not my business. He is yours.” A breath of understanding left your lips as he spoke, some of the tension leaving your body. With a smooth movement, he joined you in the hay, his huge body making you feel small as you joined the shadows and the shade of the stables. And yet, you knew you were safe. “Tell me. What worries you?”

You drew a breath which left your lips as a sigh, all of your troubled emotions returning to the front of your mind as you tried to figure out how you would word your worries to Beorn. You knew you had to tell him, there was no point in hiding it. “I do not wish for him to go.” You said. 

“But you know he cannot stay,” Beorn warned. “It’s not in his will.”

“I know,” you nodded. “And I know that I cannot join him.” You hesitated, thinking before you continued. “And yet, I worry that even the stars won’t shine the same if he is not with me to enjoy their beauty.”

“Does he know this?” Beorn asked.

“No,” you answered. “I haven’t had the heart to tell him, though in truth I only just recently realized such things.”

“You must tell him,” Beorn said.

“But how can I be sure that he feels the same?” You frowned.

“He shared your bed, Y/N. He shared your stars,” he said. “I’m sure he too shares your heart.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, mulling it over for yourself. There was a chance you would never see him again, so of course you knew you had to tell him. You looked up at Beorn, giving him a grateful nod. “Thank you, Beorn.”

“Thank me when he is gone, after you have told him.” He said, a gruff voice through the soft wind.

It was night now, and everyone was fast asleep. Once again, you found yourself restless and yearning for the guidance of the moon as she shimmered through the skylight. Finding the dwarves busy with their journey’s preparations for the remainder of the day, you hadn’t had the chance to get a hold of Kíli’s attention much at all. But you knew it was important, and so you decided against interrupting, hoping he’d stay up to meet you like he had for the past few nights.

Your heart skipped a beat when he did, glad you had placed your bets on him as he quietly made his way over to you, a smile on his face when you looked up at him. You patted the moonlit floor next to you, inviting him into your space as you couldn’t help but return his smile. The warm and fuzzy feeling returned, but you worried about whether it would last after tonight’s intended conversation. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he said. “You’ve been on my mind all day.”

“I have?” You asked, slightly surprised when he nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said. “And for that, I’m glad the moon has kept you here.”

You smiled, taking his hand into yours. “Kíli, I…” you couldn’t find yourself to say it out loud, feeling anxious. You drew a breath, pushing onward. “I’ll miss you.” There was no point in saying you wished he could stay or anything of the sort; you knew he had to do this, you knew he had to leave you, and you knew he had to take this journey. It was in his blood, it was who he was. But oh, you wished you could have more time. Just a few minutes more to learn more of who he was, and what he could be to you. You could already feel the ache burning in your chest.

His smile fell slightly, now tinged with sadness of his own as he nodded. “We leave early tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Thorin is eager to get back on the road.”

“And yourself?” You asked, baiting your breath.

“My spirit is with him,” he explained. “But I’m afraid my heart lies in other places.”

“Such as where?” You asked.

“In the stars,” he answered, looking to the sky before returning your gaze. “In the moonlight.”

“The moonlight?” You said.

“My heart lies with you, amrâlimê,” he said, his voice soft as he spoke his native tongue.

“What does that mean?” You asked, drawing a breath.

“It means that when I travel far from this place and look up into the night sky, rabbits will follow me,” he answered, inching closer. “For each time I gaze at the stars and see the moon full of light, I shall think of you, if you permit it.”

You exhaled, tears coming to your eyes as the meaning of his words sunk in. So he did feel the same! Words escaped you, but you eagerly nodded, your hand rising to cup his face as you eagerly leaned in to place a chaste kiss upon his lips. He returned with one of his own, learning in and letting your foreheads rest against each other. You couldn’t help the tears that fell, both mingled with the emotions of relief and joy and sorrow and worry. “Yes, I permit it.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled. “Though even if you had said no, my mind would be filled with thoughts of you still.”

You laughed at this, smiling through your tears as you looked into his deep brown eyes. “I wish I could go with you,” you breathed.

He shook his head. “Soon, I promise. When the gates of my fathers are reopened for all, I promise I will return to take you with me. I’ll show you everything, from the caverns to the gems to the great feasts of my kin.”

“I would want nothing more,” you said. And soon a silence fell over you two as you both realized this was the last night you would have to spend together for a considerable time. You would both be far from one another, and it was a painful thought. And though you were already crying, you didn’t want this last moment together to be one of sadness. “We shall have the stars, then. The stars shall be our gems until we can reunite.”

“I promise I will return,” he said solemnly. “And when I do, I want to know everything about you. Even the parts hidden away from anyone.”

“It would be hard to hide them from someone as nosy as you,” you joked, and his laugh brought a smile to your face. And for a while you two sat together like this, looking upon the stars with a newfound fondness.

The next day, the final day, happened all too quickly. By the time you awoke, breakfast was quickly eaten and provisions were eagerly packed away on the ponies Beorn had promised to offer to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. With sad eyes, you watched as your newfound lover rode away from your home, heading to the treacherous Mirkwood forest as he disappeared on the horizon of the Wilderlands. It was one of the rare days where none of your friends spoke to you for the remainder of the sun’s light, warned by Beorn to give you space.

The first month without him was much sadder than you thought it would be, but you soon found strength at night whenever you would gaze upon the stars. The second month was almost completely back to normal for you, and by the third month you were already back on your feet and quite well for yourself.

Six months came and no word followed. You had already been worried by now, and even Beorn had no answers for you when it came to why Kíli had not yet returned. You tried your best to find strength in the moonlight, but it was all you had as of late, and your faith was wearing thin.

A total of eight months later, the wizard returned, but it was no merry visit. He told you of the reclaiming of Erebor, the battle of the five great armies, and soon you realized all too quickly why Kíli hadn’t returned. That was the last time you saw the wizard, for by the time he ever visited again, you had left Beorn and your friends to wander into the world on your own, hoping by some miracle that you could journey far enough from the heartache and ruin that you now lived by.

For Kíli could not return to you, nor would he ever again.

[grayghostofthenorth]

Russia. World Dog Show in Moscow. World Dog Show 2016. Russian Greyhound. Charity commemorative issue. Number block with a non-postal (commemorative) stamp with the plot “Autumn Hunting”