Summary: Set in the 2014end!verse, Dean stays with (Y/n) during her final moments after she suffers a fatal injury.
Word Count: 3,316
Warnings: character death, injury,
POV: Readers, 2nd person + Dean’s (kinda)
A/N: yay so I got it out earlier than I thought! It didn’t end as happy as I wanted it to, but after what happens it’s kinda hard to turn 180 on the characters. I hope you guys like it! Please let me know what you think!
You could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, the darkness pulling you under and you fell to it welcoming each time it came for you. Once you came to a few minutes later, you wished you hadn’t. The pain had faded out what felt like hours ago, leaving you with a dull emptiness where a blade once cut through your flesh.
The dizziness was slowly beginning to drag you under again when you heard a voice ring out in the distance. You forced your eyes open, staring in the only direction your body would allow you. Then you heard it again. It was low, broken, and desperate like the source had just crawled from the depths of hell itself just to get there. Only, it sounded far more frightened than you could have ever prepared yourself for.
“(Y/n)!” The voice called out again, cracking at the echo of your name.
You tried to call back to him. Your lips parted for a second time and the only sound that moved past your tongue was the shallow breaths from your weakening lungs. It was becoming more and more difficult just to breath, let alone grab the attention of a man too far away to see.
You could hear his footsteps running along the corridor and suddenly his blurry figure came into view. He froze dead in his tracks and it was in that moment you knew he had spotted you. His knees nearly gave out under him as he caught himself on a nearby railing.
Your fingers twitched slightly in an effort to raise your hand to him, but it fell against the concrete limply.
He was racing towards you when the darkness took over again.
Making an Orca photo album. I know this is really out of character but, I have such a big love for these mammals that, one of my life goals has been met. I finally got to see them as close as I was able to even had one lower its head when I gestured my hand as if I was petting him / her. Their eyes closed and just.. that interaction is memorable. I can’t put it into words. Felt peace from the whale too. ;///; Maybe I made a friend.
They’re so beautiful, I just. Vhvycvhyc 😍
The time has come where my days consist of bathing suits, big t-shirts, sandles, snacks and tanning. Im throughly enjoying working from home, writing blogs by the pool and getting outside for my exercise. So since iv’e been home more I wanted to share with you guys some healthy and refreshing drinks and snacks I’ve been having, along with my exercise regimen I’ve been doing, sound good?!
Heres what a day looks like:
- if I’m only doing cardio that day then I don’t have as many carbs so i go with my yogurt breakfast.
- ½ cup fat free yogurt//fresh berries//mixed nuts (pistachios, almonds, walnuts, dried cranberries) and chia seeds.
- If I’m doing cardio and weights that day then i’ll have either:
- 1 piece ezekiel toast with MCT oil, 2 eggs whites, ¼ an avocado and fresh salsa
- 1/3 cup cooked oatmeal with fresh berries
EXERCISE: (Legs and Booty)
- 30 minutes on the stair master or elliptical OR a run outside if i’m not doing weights.
( 3 sets of 15 for each exercise. When I do weights I also do 30 mins of cardio first)
“you guys made these? oh my god you’re so talented!”
- Dan Howell
After months- almost a year- of not drawing anything for myself or for the sake of enjoyment, I get those words.
I’ve been working with this certain customer for half a year now. I have been linearting and shading their webcomic pages for them for $15 a page. Admittedly, they are not very experienced with art. And also, that’s not nearly enough for me to get by. But since I’ve been in a huge art slump for a while, I continued to work with this person.
Take this from me: surround yourself with people better than you. Or else you’ll never grow as an artist.
“If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.” “Always be the dumbest person in the room, because then you have the most potential to learn.” Markiplier said something like this a while ago, but I never fully grasped this until now.
And I will tell you; I learned nothing working with this person. Their pages were poorly layed out, their angles were all the same shot, and nothing stood out. It wasn’t an exciting webcomic, as most webcomics should be.
This was also damaging because I have been planning my own webcomic for nearly 5 years now. And i think constantly tracing over this person’s art and getting paid for it was hurting my artistic skills. I was taking giant leaps backwards instead of small steps forward.
Now, I’m getting a somewhat stable income from my Patreon and Youtube. But I haven’t been doing much about that because I have to make something in order to get paid.
Listen to this; I actually enjoy making videos for that stuff. Whoa, crazy, right? It’s like I’ve been doing it for years; which, spoilers, I have. The difference now though, is that I could make a living off of it now. And now’s a better time than ever.
I’ve been recently doing a lot of “vlog” type videos, and those are slowly getting as much traction as my regular art videos. And who else (besides the obvious) that has inspired me and also are a big Youtubers?
Dan fricken’ Howell and Phil fricken’ Lester.
And I was lucky enough to meet them both. June 16th, 2016 @ around 5:15pm at the Cupertino TATINOF show.
I didn’t really talk much about how that day went, but I will mention how the meet&greet went:
As soon as me and Katie were given the OK to turn the corner and meet them, they smiled so warmly and Dan immediately opened his arms to give me a hug. (Let me tell you, his wingspan is HUGE.) I buried my face into his moth shirt, and proceeded to do the same to Phil’s Avenger’s shirt. Once they signed Katie’s TABINOF and my Dan&Phil sketchbook (that has been severely lacking of sketches recently), Katie mentions our stickers. Dan takes them out of my sketchbook and hands them to me as if I needed it, but I then let him know that I drew them for his belated birthday and for Phil. They both go “Oh, really~?”, takes Katie’s as well, and looks at them both. I don’t remember the exact words, since it’s all a blur, but I hear Dan say;
“Wow, you guys made these? (Digitally?) Oh my god you’re so talented!”
And all I remember Phil saying was “Wow!” lmao
After a couple exciting selfies, they tell us to enjoy the show and we teleported out of there. I have no recollection of anything,,,,
Except for the warm feeling of being told I was talented by someone I deeply admired.
A week ago today, to this exact day, I heard those words.
After a week of debating, of thinking, of soaking it in…
I decided to quit as this customer’s webcomic “assistant”. I was tired of holding myself back like this. I was tired of being in this art slump for so long.
I would like to think that Dan&Phil knew about what i’ve been going through for the past 6 months, but they probably just spoke from the heart. Which is all I could ever ask for.
I want to grow as an artist, I want to be proud of what I create. And I want to be able to do my own thing.
Welcome to Droughtlander 3.0, weekend 1!
Nothing like some fanfiction to help soothing that ache, am I right? So I had
already started this one before my hiatus and since I couldn’t sleep and you guys wanted to see more Constellations, no moment
like the present to finish it. I’m still restraining from writing, but I think
things will improve. This one is slightly dystopian and highly influenced by
what we’re all living these days. I hope the message is clear though – only in love we
may find shelter. Hugs and kisses!*
Jamie walked through the dark street, the
lamplight above him sizzling like the threat of a ghostly apparition. His feet
stomped on the sidewalk, as he rushed to arrive at his destination before the
hour was too late. He checked his wristwatch, pressing the side button. His own
voice drifted from the gadget saying “seven o’clock.”
At distance the first siren echoed, advising
the inhabitants of London to finish their tasks, rush to catch the subway home,
say their goodbyes to their friends and co-workers for the day. One hour. All
they had now was sixty minutes to savour the streets of the city, before the
alarming sound of the curfew ripple through the night, imprisoning them in the
solitude of their homes, like desolated islands in an endless sea.
It had been so for the past ten years, since
the great explosion that marked the end of the world as it had been, forcing
the government to implement extreme measures to guarantee a degree of normalcy.
As he saw the outline of the church dawning in
the shadows, Jamie couldn’t avoid but to remember what life was like before.
When people weren’t so afraid all the time. When he was free to roam in the
night if he wanted to, watching dawn finding its way in the corners of the
quiet streets he knew so well. When laughing was natural and effortless. In
2027 - ten years since God closed his eyes for a second, allowing for chaos and
pain to ensue - all those moments seemed to belong only in books displayed in
He pressed the carved wooden door, its heavy
weight on his palm the beginning of the healing process that brought him there
again and again. To the temple of happier days. To the silence and peace, where
fear and hate had no place.
He entered the aisle, his eyes adjusting to the
dim light created by candles lit on the altar, the chill of the stoned walls
rippling on his skin.
Jamie kneeled quickly and made the sign of the
cross, commending his soul in a gesture as natural as a second skin. Then he
She was sitting in the first bench before the
altar, the white wedding gown billowing around her. He could only see her
profile, but the elegance of her brow took his breath away.
He walked slowly, inevitably attracted to the
unusual sight of her beauty; but common sense and good manners advised him to
stay at a respectable distance, and so he chose a seat on the other side of the
aisle, where he could study her discretely.
She must have ripped off the veil from her
hair, for it was pressed now between her hands with such force that her
knuckles turned white. Her brown hair was dishevelled, riotous curls escaping
what had undoubtedly been an intricate hairstyle. Her face – gorgeous, with a
skin white as Italian marble, a full bottom lip and ears of a fairy – was
serene, but tears kept stubbornly streaming down her face.
She was silent, but Jamie noticed that her eyes
were focused somewhere above them, and eventually her lips formed the words “Show me the way”.
Feeling the need to reach out and grab her tormented
soul in his own two hands and cradle it, instead he moved slowly to sit closer
to her, on the edge of the same bench.
“May I help ye, lass?” He asked, before he
managed to control himself.
The bride seemed surprised to notice him and
quickly tried to wipe away the tears from her face, slightly smudged from black
“I’m sorry if I disturbed your prayers.” She
apologized in a perfect English accent. “I didn’t mean to.”
Jamie shrugged, slightly tilting his head in a
“It was me who came and interrupted ye, lass.”
He tried a reassuring smile. “I should be the one offering ye my apologies.”
“A Scot.” She nodded, acknowledging his lilt.
“You are far away from home.”
“I guess this is it.” He answered, making her
eyebrows raise in question. “Ach, not here.
I meant London. For a time, at least.”
“Oh.” Her nose was puffed and red and she
looked ridiculously lovely. Jamie struggled to control the impulse of catching
one of her tears with the tip of his finger, caressing her skin.
“Did yer groom…” He asked tentatively, accessing
the strangeness of the situation. “Left?”
“No.” She swallowed hard and avoided his eyes.
“I left him.”
Jamie stayed in silence, surprised into
muteness. Her words floated around them and he wished to give her space and
time, so she could expand her story if she wished so.
“Evidently I was to be married earlier today.”
She pointed to the discarded veil. “But when the priest asked - “Will you take this man, to have and to
hold, until your lives shall be done?” - I….I just couldn’t. Wouldn’t.” She looked at him, her eyes
submersed in painful confusion. “I was engaged to Frank for years. He was
the only man I ever loved. And there I was, wearing a puffy dress that I didn’t
want, surrounded by people that meant nothing to me, about to marry a man that
suddenly felt like a total stranger and to go on a fucki – erm, sorry – honeymoon to the Alps.” She
shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t even like skiing! Or freaking lavender
Jamie snorted in amusement at her recognition
and a shadow of a smile was born on the corner of her mouth.
“I was transformed into this shadow of myself.
I was becoming Mrs. Randall.” She glanced at him, a fierce look about her that
made his heart thunder. “And forgot about Claire. But I want to be Claire. I
can’t deny her.”
“Aye.” He agreed softly, like a priest in the
anonymous darkness of the confessional.
“But above all else, I understood just then
that I was to be committed to this man, to form with him something more than
the sum of us both. If I took him, I was agreeing to have his heart and soul on
my hands, to do with them as I wished. To have such power and such fear of
it…It didn’t feel right. And so I said “No,
I don’t.” and walked away without looking back. I wandered for a bit, and
eventually ended up here. I decided to sit for a while, as it was peaceful
enough to hear myself think.”
“Well,” Jamie started after some cautious
thought. “Living someone else’s truth is not worth it. If ye felt ye were
missing out on something, then I think it’s for the best.”
“Do you?” She asked slowly, her amber eyes
piercing his. “What if I never love again? What if this was it, my one chance,
and I spoiled it based on some fantasy of a perfect but unreachable sentiment?”
“Did ye, now?” He retorted bluntly. “Loved him?
Ye ken, I’ve always thought that ye can feel a lot of things for many people.
Particularly at different times in yer life. But love…the kind that poets write
sonnets about…maybe is just for the one person. Perhaps Frank just wasn’t it.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Aye. I do…Claire.” He used her name, making
her jump in surprise before she realized she inadvertently had revealed it
herself, and smiled.
“I’m Jamie.” He offered, as she unpinned the
remains of her hair, letting it flow around her face like a waterfall. It smelt
of jasmine and lemon, with an undertone of saltiness from her tears and sweat.
“Nice to meet you, Jamie.” She said, offering
her hand for him to shake. He did so, feeling for the first time the heat and smoothness
of her skin, which made his own tingle with a need he didn’t fully understand. “Thank
you for listening. I guess it’s safe to say that you don’t spend your days counselling
“No.” He laughed. “But I might be in for a
career change. My job is much duller than this. I work in a publishing company,
doing translations of books talented people wrote.”
She moved to turn her body towards him, giving
him a full frontal sight of her face; his eyes travelled from it to the slopes
of her body, the curve of breast and waist, simultaneously concealed and enhanced
by the wedding gown. In his chest and belly something burned, an incandescent lust
made fire and coal by the connection of their souls. He wanted her alright,
badly. But what he wanted went further than the desires of physical completion –
he wanted to drink on the very fountain of who she was, rejoice on the
knowledge of her multitudes. To be broken, shattered completely – only to be
reshaped by the tip of her fingers into something she would love.
“Anything good you’re working on?” She asked.
“Aye. I just saw this poem and memorized this
bit.” He looked her in the eyes, feeling very tender and exposed and recited in
a hoarse voice. “”Everything that is a
glowing flame, everything that you feel, everything that is life and vibrates
eternally is your being mine, Love, and my being yours.””
“You’re right.” She said serious, but a touch
of pink was finding its way to her cheeks. “It’s very good.”
They stayed in comfortable silence for a while,
each immersed in their own thoughts. Eventually she spoke again.
“I think I always knew.” She was looking again
to the altar, her long fingers fidgeting with a ring on her hand. It was a
thick band with a sizable diamond glowing in the soft light. “That it wasn’t
right. I had this nagging feeling always on the back of my mind – you know, like
when you feel you’re forgetting something important, but can’t quite place it.
This emptiness that…even when I was happy…I was never complete. But I was too
scared to do something about it.” Claire took her ring off, analysing it one
final time, before placing it on the side next to her. “What is really weird is
that…I don’t feel it, just now. Not anymore.”
He wondered what God would think of him kissing
her in a sacred place, underneath the stilled eyes of his own son, saviour
turned martyr on the cross. But Jamie thought that if He was omnipresent and
omniscient, than he certainly was within his heart, and therefore knew the
depth and intensity of his feelings. Knew love as the most holy of emotions,
the one capable of saving and healing any wound. And would not only forgive but
smile upon those who led their lives through love.
But her decision was still very fresh and the
weight of it still burdened her. He would wait; give her time to understand the
things that he already saw in her, to become a person who could be loved
without restrain. She was raw and her pieces scattered, needing to fix herself
– and when she was finally ready he would be there to place the final touch to
mend her heart.
If one day he must be dust, ashes and nothing
but darkness – then let her be his dawn; let her discover how to lose herself
in him, only to find herself anew.
Jamie’s fingers softly touched the back of
Claire’s hand and her fingers by reflex sought his own, interweaving their
hands. Fear had no place there – it belonged in the outside world and could not
reach them, their united hands an invincible shield.
“Will you stay?” She asked softly, her eyes
glowing in the candlelight. “Just for a little while longer?”
“Aye.” He answered, gripping her hand. “While
ye want me, I’ll be here.”
Later the sirens cried calling them home and
inevitably away from each other. But in his mind he saw Claire walking towards
him in a clear day of blue skies, a different white dress caressing her
beautiful body. And on her lips lived a
smile that was meant only for him.
Summary: Premieres were never honestly easy for either of them but at the end of one premiere, Chris and Ella get to know one another better and realize that maybe such events aren’t that bad after all.
Warnings: Fluff. Lots of gifs (I apologize in advance).
Note: Hiiiiii!!!! Sorry this has been coming forever but i had midterms and i was super busy. Hopefully this is good and as always comments are well appreciated :)
I apologize in advance for the vast amount of dialogues in this one. I wanted to reveal more about Ella since you guys know very little about her.
Also, if you have any requests or ideas, please please send them in.
Requests are Open!!!!
I’d love you for it :)
“I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.” (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
God bless Catherine de’ Medici for making high heeled shoes mainstream. If she hadn’t worn high heels back in 1533 for her wedding, then these beautiful little shits wouldn’t be so prevalent - and Ella wouldn’t have sore, bruised feet. She hates heels. Vehemently hates heels. And the sad thing is she usually has to wear them: at premieres and red carpets and press conferences and interviews and galas and parties and and and. She wants to just remove her shoes and feel the earth beneath her feet. She wanted to hold his hand and hear his voice and just be. But sadly, her life had different plans. And so here she was: at the London premiere after-party for Civil War, surrounded by hordes of celebrities and journalists and just everyone. And this was exactly why she couldn’t go see Chris because no one here knew about them. No one knew their secret and, in reality, she reveled in the thought that she had something that was completely, purely hers. Theirs. No trashy comments or judgements or anything tainted their relationship and she loved that. But the press tour had been long and lengthy and all Ella wanted now was Chris and to go back to her normal life here in London.
“… is so fucking cool!” Sebastian’s voice says next to her, “Like, have you seen that shot? Man it’s…” and his voice tunes out once again. Ella sighs inwardly. He’s been talking about this movie he saw yesterday for an hour now. Renner, standing opposite her, starts talking to Elizabeth about some politics shit that she frankly couldn’t care less about.
“Whatcha think ‘bout that Francis? You two cool?” Mackie questions.
“You an’ Chris.”
“Mackie, we’re always cool. Why?”
“The boy is starin’ at you like a hawk that’s why…”
Turning around Ella caught Chris’ eye and looked away. “I’m sure he was admiring Romanian Adonis here.” She nodded towards Sebastian. The group laughed and Ella thought this was the best moment to excuse herself, seeing as they were all so distracted.
“Uh, excuse me, I need to go find… go… somewhere for a moment”
She’d barely taken a step when she heard Renner say “You going for some fondue?”