sansa is the transfer student at king’s landing high school. margaery is the edgy girl from her drama class with the undercut and the smile that makes sansa’s heart race a little. prom is approaching and it looks like sansa’s asshole ex might actually succeed in asking margaery - until margaery shows up at sansa’s place the night before with a plate of lemon cookies and a question. sansa thought she shook her penchant for fairytales a long time ago, but apparently she’s still a sucker for a happy ending.
He’s not sure what to say. The quiet in the car is a thick, suffocating presence. The only thing he’s sure of is that Cas is goddamned idiot.
The words resound in Dean’s head, “I’m in love with you…” He regrips the steering wheel and tries not to watch Cas from the corner of his eye.
The blade and the mark had flipped a switch for him, reality warping sideways to make him a monster. The thing that shocked him back to himself? Cas’ voice… and those damning five words that he can feel in the pit of his stomach.
So far, he’d said nothing in response. Shifting in the seat uncomfortably, he hears the dying angel on his right do the same.
Making a nearly subconscious decision, Dean wrenches the steering wheel to the right, swerving the car to the gravel shoulder. The road they’re on is a county highway that follows some river.
Slamming the breaks, he shoves the gear into park and takes a breath. “Get out of the car.”
“Dean?” Cas asks quizzically.
Instead of answering, Dean exits himself, slamming the heavy door behind him and beelining for the open expanse of the hilltop overlooking the river. Goddamnit, he needs the fucking space. The car, and the words in his head are choking him.
The muted crunch of dry grass alerts him to Cas’ steps, moving in beside him.
They stand there looking off towards the sun, now orange more than yellow, as it lowers towards the horizon.
Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Dean breaks the silence, his voice rough, “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why me? All I’ve done is ruin your life from the get-go. You’ve died because of me, been tortured because of me. Jesus, Cas… I’m the absolute worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”
Nervously, Dean brushes his hand over his head, trying to imagine being somewhere that wasn’t this conversation.
“You taught me what it meant to be human, Dean. I don’t know when exactly it began, or exactly why, but it is what it is. You don’t have to say anything.”
When Dean can’t seem to piece words together, Cas looks down at the ground. “If you want, you can pretend I never said anything at all.” The pain in his voice is unmistakable. It crushes Dean.
Readying himself for any possibility, he turns to the left, taking in Cas’ profile. “I don’t know what to say.”
Cas looks at him, eyes depthless. “Then don’t say anything.”
Stomach in knots, Dean throws his arm around his friends’ shoulders and drags him closer. He might be losing his mind, but yeah, this is happening.
The look on Cas’ face is priceless when he moves in breath-sharing close. With his heart lodged in his throat, he goes for it.
The kiss he gives Cas is a mixture of things he doesn’t know how to say. The touch is warm, relaxing and exhilarating all at once. It’s peace and fireworks, and it’s incredible. He pours the years of unspoken tension between them in that one kiss. Hesitantly, he passes his tongue over Cas’ lips, asking for just a little more.
Inside, he’s screaming that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he’s bad for Cas, that this whole thing is crazy. But it’s been too long, too much has happened, and the bad keeps coming for them. One day there won’t be time for this.
Cas’ mouth opens to let him in, and he gives it his all, losing himself in the moment that he never dared to imagine might happen. Both of them let go of a relieved moan, like they’ve wanted this for too long, and it nearly hurts to finally get it, thinking back on all the lost opportunities.
He draws back finally when he needs to breathe, having frozen vital functions for the kiss. Opening his eyes, finding Cas still so close, it hurts his chest.
“I’m not all that good with words,” he says.
Cas smiles brightly. “The alternative was very much acceptable.”
“Yeah?” Dean smirks.
Together, they let out a much needed laugh, tension rolling free of their shoulders. There’s no telling where it goes from here. The damn mark still plagues him, Cas’ grace is still failing. But now, standing together watching the sun go down, the only thing on his mind in the warmth of Cas beside him, and how he doesn’t know why he waited this long for it.
So like imagine he rushes home because you just got the most terrible news or maybe today was the day from hell and he’s watching you pace around explaining everything and nothing at all because he can’t really understand what you’re saying under your sobs but there’s no way in hell he’ll make you repeat it. All he knows that whatever’s going on or whatever happened is terrible and he needs to listen attentively and hold you hand when you reach for him. Now he’s not a big cuddle person in my opinion, but it’s probably because he’s never been cuddled right before so at first he’s kinda just ghosting around you until you finally catch on and nuzzle into him more pulling him closer to you and releasing all the tension in his spine and he’s starting to understand that he won’t break you if he just holds you a little harder, and a little more- and before you know it the tension is releasing from your spine too and you sigh in relief because damn it was building up you thought you’d snap in two from the pressure but somehow it’s been washed away. And you sigh deeply into his chest and cry a few more tears till until your eyes a too raw and he’s getting fancy on you rubbing circles into your shoulders and kissing your forehead because he’s confident in caring for you- he knows now that he didn’t need to have an answer for your sorrows he just needed to be willing to listen to them and you marvel at him because he’s not used to this he’s used to you being able to take care of yourself but every now and then this feeling, Jesus he’s going to crave it now. The synchrony between you is on another level because he doesn’t rattle on about what to do next he just simply says “I’m here-” and it’s not something he read somewhere in a stupid list of things to say when you don’t know what to say, he genuinely means that he is here with you right now in this moment feeling everything you’re feeling because he’s watched every single one of your vertebrae unhinge itself under his touch and he truly believes in his ability to take on the world with you. And you’re beaming because it’s so much more than him being considerate, it’s him being a man living up to a promise he never had to say out loud. And you’re both in a state of bliss giggling like fools with faces pressed so close to each other you can see the laugh lines forming in his eyes and you think for the first time in your life that the horrors of this world aren’t so terrifying after all.
honestly I’m putting a hard “no” on reblogging any gifs that look like they might be from a bootleg of Hamilton (and any other things that look like they be from a bootleg)
Lin has asked us to be patient. He’s going to do his best to get us what we want, a recording to watch. He’s asked us directly to not make/watch bootlegs. I know it’s hard to wait and all we want is more content from the show but…
He’s given us so much with this musical already. Please respect that. It’s rare we get such a close connection to creators like this. I know it’s hard, especially in theatre fandoms where a disregard for the law is extremely common place, but hold back. We can wait for it.
Bucky and Steve are both boxers, but a couple of months ago Bucky suffered from a severe blow to the head and ever since doesn’t remember who he is or that he was once best friends and more with Steve. All Bucky knows is that he’s good at fighting and can at least make a living out of it. So he does.
In the beginning, Steve tried everything to make him remember, to make him see who he was and always will be in his eyes, but all attempts failed and even drove them apart in the end. Steve realised that he did more damage than good and backed away, though never too far as he still kept an eye on Bucky and his actions. He could never fully let go.
Steve never stopped fighting nor did Bucky as they both went their seperate ways. ‘Till one day they both walked the same path that lead to a bigger game. A mixed martial arts tournament with the top 16 fighters of the world where the winner takes it all; 5 million dollars.
01. light a fire - rachel taylor | 02. king (acoustic) - years & years | 03.what kind of man - florence + the machine | 04. you should know where i am coming from - banks | 05. elastic heart (piano version) - sia | 06.words as weapons - birdy | 07. light - sleeping at last | 08. bad blood (live piano version) - bastille | 09.worry - rhodes | 10.wicked game - james vincent mcmorrow or wolf alice (both are good) | 11. no light, no light - florence + the machine | 12.iscariot - walk the moon
(forever a work in progress) but you can listen to it growing (on spotify)
Haa I decided to make an Undertale oc…and their name is Copycat! i couldn’t think of anything better omg
Anyways they tend to just wander around the underground but avoid Snowdin ‘cause it’s way too cold for them (Each run they’ll be in a different place). They also don’t show a lot of emotion on their face but express themselves through the mind ( So like pictures and voices that come from nowhere?)
They don’t have a ‘physical’ attack and instead use auditory and visionary illusions that mimic other monsters Frisk goes into battle with ( Because of this the player/Frisk doesn’t get hurt). The battle can also abruptly end and you may find yourself in another room (They’ll sometimes use their powers to play pranks on monsters though)
I think their theme would be similar to this and if you’re playing a no mercy run you’ll hear borrowed parts of music from other monsters
Here. Have a super short ficlet thing that I couldn’t get out of my head because I love Pongo and I love Regina and Pongo and I couldn’t help myself.
She feeds him when she thinks no one is looking. Sneaks him food from her plate as he sits under their table, silent save for the soft whining he makes when she takes too long. And she knows, she absolutely knows, that she shouldn’t be indulging him – but she can’t help it. Sometimes, he’ll move until his head rests in her lap, and if she bows her head, she can see his nose peaking out from under the table. It’s their little secret, something that’s meant just for her and just for him and it’s been that way for years.
Archie knows, of course. Pongo disappears as soon as he walks through the door and his doctorate may be forged but that doesn’t make him an idiot. His dog leaves him only in favour of one other person, and he doesn’t reappear until she’s gone.
The first time it happened, he’d watched in amazement as the cold and otherwise aloof Mayor stiffened at the Dalmatian’s presence before a tentative hand fell on to his head and nails scratched behind his ear. It was the first time Archie had ever seen Regina look content, and he was the last person who wanted to ruin that. So he’d turned his head, and pretended not to notice, even when Regina had left and his dog had returned to his side with syrup sticking to his fur.
Not many people notice, but Granny does. And it’s the two of them who share a smile when Regina walks through the door and suddenly the diner is dog free, or so it appears. Granny adds an extra pancake to Regina’s plate every morning, an extra strip of chicken to her salad during lunch and brings a bowl of fries that Regina would never ordinarily touch that is mysteriously empty come clean up.
He sits by her feet during their meetings, sometimes even by her side half in her lap and she never seems to mind. He calms her down, something Archie is quick to notice and so whilst Pongo usually isn’t allowed on the furniture, he makes an exception for the Queen. She’s an animal lover, which Archie already knew but it was one thing knowing something and another thing seeing it.
It’s not until after Robin and Marion and that whole mess that people start to notice. And they only notice because Pongo snaps his teeth at the thief when he gets too close, crawls out from beneath the table and on to the seat beside Regina, stands over her like he’s her personal guard and it has Archie hiding a smile behind a cough. Granny has no such decorum. Her laugh is full blown, from the gut, and she’s leaning on the counter with a red face as the otherwise docile Dalmatian bares it’s teeth and growls. Regina’s eyebrows are raised significantly and she does her best to ignore both Robin and his newly resurrected wife by focusing on the dog in her lap. Her hand falls on to his neck and she scratches at a spot only she seems capable of finding ( Archie’s tried. Believe him, he’s tried. But no matter how long he spends patting and scratching and rubbing at the dogs head, he can’t seem to find it. ) and Pongo relaxes, but barely.
They’re good friends. And it makes sense. That’s how Pongo’s name became Henry’s first word, and that’s how a tennis ball found it’s home in the bottom draw of Regina’s desk. Archie falls ill one weekend, and he needs someone to care for his dog. The first name he brings up in his contacts is Regina’s, and though she says something about babysitting and didn’t the Charming’s pass that message around, he knows she’ll take him anyway and he thanks her quietly, to which she falls silent before muttering ‘you’re welcome’ and hanging up.
He’s not sure what happened during that weekend, but when he’s better and healthier and he can finally breathe without sounding like he’s about to hack up his own lung, he appears on Regina’s doorstep and finds a very smug looking dog, a very bitter Robin and a smirking Regina. He doesn’t ask, but he does watch as Pongo nudges Regina’s knee with his head and barks at Robin, who glares in return, before trotting off and pulling Archie with him.
“We’re not getting a dog,” is all he hears before the door is closed behind him and Archie rushes off to the diner with Pongo in toe, and Granny’s laughter could be heard from the kitchen not five minutes later.
They’re doing laundry. Lily is folding a t-shirt that looks suspiciously like her brother’s. It’s sweet.
“What was he in?” Lily is squinting at Audrey’s phone. She snapped a candid between takes. “Henry? What did you say his last name was?”
“Mancandy,” Audrey says. Her mouth tries so hard to snatch back the word, but it doesn’t have a retract feature.
“Yeah.” Lily enlarges the photo of Henry’s wet, white shirt, which is pretty much making out with his chestal region.
“Mancuso.” Audrey closes her eyes and breathes from her abdomen until the urge to punch herself passes. “Oh, my God. Freud is rolling in his grave.”
“I think so,” Lily says. Her eyebrows remain up near her hairline. At least she didn’t laugh.
“I want some ice tea. Do you want some iced tea? It’s hot in here. I’m hot. Are you hot?” What are the rules for witness protection? Would the FBI consider terminal embarrassment a reasonable pre-req?
“Sure. I’d love an iced tea. No sugar.” Lily calmly folds another t-shirt. She’s an excellent friend.
Audrey crosses the street without being actually run over. The buzz in her brain settles while she waits in line. This is easily dealt with. Lily and Henry can never ever meet or communicate in any way. That shouldn’t be too difficult.