Maggie said angrily “You never look before you leap!”
Kara threw up her hands in exasperation and said “That’s because I can fly!”
Maggie shook her head and blew out a frustrated breath. She replied in a low cold tone. “That’s right Kara you can. But she can’t.”
Kara whipped her head around and made eye contact with Maggie. Tears began to build in the Kryptonian’s eyes.
“Don’t you get that she puts you first above everything else? Above her self? Jesus Kara she’d stand in front of a sniper for you and you’re the one who’s bulletproof. She’d jump off a high rise to save you and you’re the one who can fly.” She punctuated her statements with an angry pointed finger.
Kara’s throat tightened. She looked down at the ground and turned her back. Subconsciously trying to shield herself from the verbal onslaught. But Maggie didn’t stop.
“She’d. She’d follow you anywhere and she’d fight anyone to keep you safe. It’s what she’s been doing her whole life! It’s the only thing she’s known.”
Maggie’s voice cracked slightly and raised. “Jesus she tried to break up with me once because she thought that you went missing because she was happy! Who does that?!” She raised her hands in a frustrated shrug.
Maggie took a shuddering breath.
“I get it you’re her sister, you’ll always be number one to her. But Kara I love her.”
Kara whipped around and looked at the Detective. Her lip trembled slightly at the bold but steadfast declaration.
“She’s number one to me. Kara the same way she protects you I’m gonna protect her whether you like it or not. Alex is missing. So I’m leaving and I don’t care about protocols and I don’t care about DEO rules I’m going to find her and bring her home. I’ll rip a hole in the world to find her if I have to. Even if it kills me.”
Maggie shrugged on her leather jacket and grabbed her motorcycle helmet. She paused just as she was about to walk out the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Kara and threw out one parting remark before slamming it shut.
You stared at Sam for a few seconds, desperately wanting to believe what he was telling you about Dean was true but you knew you couldn’t and you shouldn’t believe him. He had just told you, or more like it slipped him and then decided to tell you all of it, how Dean really felt for you but you were unable to believe him.
“Ha-ha very funny, Sam” you said with no emotion in your voice.
“Wh-what? No, (Y/n). No. Listen, I’m telling you the truth. Dean has feelings for you. He- he told me! He’s in love with you but- but you know how he is. Won’t dare say those three words no matter what. He-” Sam started speaking again but you cut him off.
“Enough Sam. Please.” your voice broke in the end. You wanted more than anything to believe him. You’ve had feelings for Dean for what seemed like forever and you wished with all your heart that what Sam was telling you was true but- but you highly doubted it at the same time. That was the reason why you had not told him for your feelings, too. You were not like the girls you knew Dean liked, not like the ones he picked at bars. You were not skinny and beautiful like them. You had your flaws, who didn’t after all, and some extra weight that made you really self-conscious. You knew you would have no luck with a man like him.
“It is not funny anymore” you pursed your lips and Sam looked at you with a sad expression.
He was your closest friend and had many times heard about all of your insecurities and self doubts. How you didn’t like your body image and would not find anything positive on you. He had insisted otherwise but you were unable to believe him.
“No, (Y/n) hear me out. Dean has-” Sam started speaking again only to be cut off by…
… Dean himself.
“What the hell?!” Dean’s angry voice roared behind you and you both turned to look at a pissed off Dean Winchester.
“Dean, please it’s ok. There is no need to be pissed at Sam. He was just making a joke. Maybe a little bit out of taste joke but it’s-” you raised your hands to stop him, trying to force a smile on your face but the pain in your eyes was evident.
“Oh I am pissed at Sam, and mind my words you’re gonna pay for this Samuel!-” he pointed a finger looking at Sam “-But most of all I am pissed at you!” he shouted even more angry, pointing a finger at you this time.
“M-me? Wh-why? What did I-” you started stuttering, not knowing what you did to make him angry.
“Why the hell would you think that all of this is a joke?” he asked with wide eyes and Sam took this as a sign to leave you two alone.
“It- it was not a joke?” you whispered, voice laced with disbelief.
“Of course it was not! And you have no idea how pissed I am at you for not believing it! Why? Tell me why?” he demanded and you looked down at your hands.
You didn’t dare speak so Dean urged you more “(Y/n)-”
“I just don’t think why someone like you would ever want anyone like… me” you motioned to yourself and looked down at your feet again.
“Why? Because you are not skinny like the girls that will not stop flirting with me at bars? Because you have a little extra weight? Because you think you’re not beautiful. You think you’re not good enough because of your appearance? Because-” he started speaking but you cut him off.
“Yes, Dean! YES! Because I am NOT good enough!” you all-but-shouted, tears streaming down your face “Nor will I ever be” you mumbled looking down.
“You’re kidding me, right? I’m here bearing my heart out to you. Saying that I love you, thing I only said once, to my mother, and you- you go and tell me that you think you’re not good enough? And all of that because of things that somebody made you believe about yourself?”
“It’s not things somebody made me believe, Dean. It’s the truth. Because I know how I look- Even though I don’t want too, I can see myself in a mirror every day, ok?” you mumbled and avoided his eyes.
“And that just makes you not good enough? So, you have some extra weight, so what? Did you ever see me or Sam or any of the people that actually matter to you in your life treat you any differently because of that? Hell, I fell in love with you just because of that. Do you really have any idea how beautiful you are. Do you?” he asked you in disbelief.
“I-” you felt your throat close. You were unable to form words. You just stared at him with wide eyes. You could never even imagine that he would say all of these things to you but here he actually was. Saying them… and much more.
“Unless…” he hesitated, looking down at his feet “You don’t feel the same way” it seemed as if the thought had just settled on his mind.
“Wh-what? No! NO!” you exclaimed and Dean looked at you. A smile forming on his lips.
“I-I… do. I really do” you felt heat rise in your cheeks.
“Well, then no more words. Come here woman!” he said with a huge grin and before you could react he closed the distance between you and crashed his lips to yours.
@brakebillskids requested some Penntin. It’s just a Drabble but it might turn into a Drabble series… sorry no read more, I’m on mobile.
“What are you doing?“ Mayakovsky demands, “You think you choose partners? No. I choose partners.” He glares at them, walking around the table with slow, careful steps. “You,” He points at Quentin, “Failure waiting to happen. You will work with tall, dark, and angry.” He points a finger at Penny. "Go.”
Quentin looks at Alice, sighing as he pushes himself up from the table and makes his way out of the room, Penny just a few steps behind him.
A few hours later, while they’re all desperately trying to get the nails in, Quentin takes a break frustrated, and looks across the hall at Penny. He’s resting his head on his arms, which are crossed against the board. Quentin can see the slow rise and fall of his back with his breathing, and his own breathing stutters as his heart picks up speed.
He looks kind of hot, Quentin realizes, swallowing as he lets his eyes rake over Penny’s form. Is shoulders are strong, and he can see the long pains of his back sloping down to where he’s sitting.
Quentins breath hitches as he shakes his head of the images of running his hands down that back flash through his mind. Tries not to think about running his fingers through his hair. But then Penny’s sitting up, running his own hand through his hair as he looks across the hall at him.
Quentin clears his throat, eyes darting down to the nail he’s twirling between his fingers. He can feel Penny’s eyes on him, watching him.
Then Mayakovsky comes stomping down the hall and stops, leans against the doorway leading to Quentins room. Quentin looks up through his eyelashes as Mayakovsky looks into his room and then Penny’s and back. He purses his lips, crossing his arms as he looks back at Quentin. “You do realize,” he says, looking down at Quentin like he’s he dumbest person he’s ever seen, “He can hear everything you think.”
Quentin swallows, looks across the hall at Penny, but Penny’s glaring up at Mayakovsky.
“But maybe he’s not killing you because he likes it.” Mayakovsky shrugs, turning his head to look at Penny. “Yes?” Penny’s lip twitches as his hand forms a fast overtop his right thigh. Mayakovsky rolls his eyes. “Calm down. Angst and Anger make for great fuck.” He shrugs, pushing off the wall. “Just saying.”
They watch him walk away and then their eyes drift towards one another. They stare for a moment before Penny narrows his eyes, gives him a “what are you staring at?” Look and goes back to work.
Later, just as Penny gets a nail in the board, Mayakovsky scoffs. “Congrats,” he states, loud and overbearing, “You two are last. Pathetic.”
Penny storms out of his room, raising his fist as if he’s going to punch him, but then he’s flying through the air, and shoved up against the wall opposite Quentins room by an invisible force. Quentin jumps up as Penny struggles to breathe, reaching down and grabbing one of the nails off the top of the table, ready to stab it through the back of Mayakovsky’s head if he has to.
“You have anger,” Mayakovsky says, “You can let it be your downfall, or you can start to control it.” He lets go, and Penny falls to the ground as Mayakovsky turns and heads down the hall.
Quentin darts out of the room, sliding across the floor to kneel next to him. He puts one hand on his shoulder, one on his knee as Penny coughs for air. After a moment of Quentin breathing softly while Penny collects himself, Oenny seems to realize where they are, who’s touching him. He makes a face, shoves Quentin off him.
Quentin crashes against the opposite side of the hallway, breathing heavily now as they stare each other down.
And then they stay like that for a few minutes. Penny’s eyes taking in every bit of him, Quentin watching him, willing himself not to think.
But then they’re moving all at once, meeting in the middle of the hallway, rough and angry. Penny’s hands grab the sides of Quentins face, drag him towards him, as Quentins nails rake up the back of Penny’s shirt, digging into the thin material as their lips meet in a bruising, ferocious kiss.
It’s all teeth and emotion. They’re sitting in their knees in the hallway, wrapped up in each other. They don’t even realize Mayakovskys lifted the spell that renders them mute until Quentin moans into Penny’s mouth.
They pull apart, look at each other, confusion and arousal present on both their faces, and then Penny says, “Stop, Fucking. Thinking so loud!” And he’s pulling him in for another kiss.
Notes: So Coffee Run, got nearly 300 notes and pushed me over 300 followers, which shocked the shit out of me. I didn’t think my little bit of Sam love would get so much attention. I posted it right before I left to drive 5 hours to a wedding. My phone notifications blew up. So many people wanted more. So you get their lunch date as a thank you for the love and support. Just don’t tell the album challenge that I’m cheating on it. (part 3, In smoothies and cups of coffee)
Description: Sam offers to buy you lunch as a thank you for getting him coffee.
Word Count: 1504
Warnings: fluff, cursing, Natasha being intimidating
Yes, I think it’s safe to say Malcolm’s strong opinions about fashion are both STRONG and OPINIONATED.
And let’s all take a minute to appreciate how he chooses to convey the message that being WAY too loud is (all of a sudden) A Very Bad Thing by being VERY VERY SHOUTY at VERY VERY HIGH VOLUME. Like, maybe that’s why your ears are ringing, eh, Malc?
PROMPT?: could you please do a jason todd imagine about Selena Gomez’s song ‘sober’? :)
A/N: I had never really heard this song until now and I dig it, but I’m using the Genius interpretations of the lyrics! I tried making this happy, but it’s kind of angsty so I’m sorry if that’s different from what you wanted, but I hope you like it!
WARNINGS: drug abuse, alcoholism, slight abuse?? (nothing big), slight angst??, cursing (duh it’s a jason todd story)
We fall for each other at the wrong time Only for a moment, but I don’t mind Guess I don’t know where to draw the line, the line, the line And we’ll play the same game every night
It was hard to believe Jason could stumble to your apartment every week. It was hard to turn him away, knowing that his bulky build would soon enough be cuddled into your lap on the couch. It was the hardest to know that it would happen again in just seven days.
Gabriel: *internally screaming* OH SHIT PRECIOUS SON CHILD IS CHAT NOIR... I BET LADYBUG IS ONE OF HIS CLASSMATES *checks class picture* YES, IT'S HER *points angry finger at picture of Rose*. IT'S DEFINITELY HER.
ANON, YOU LAUGH NOW AT THE IDEA OF GABRIEL KNOWING ADRIEN IS CHAT NOIR, BUT THE WHOLE THING IS GONNA BE A LOT LESS FUNNY WHEN ADRIEN WAKES UP WITHOUT HIS RING, LIKE THAT POST GOING AROUND SUGGESTED.
BUT LMFAO, IMAGINE GABRIEL JUST INVITING ROSE OVER, AND ADRIEN IS LIKE “??????” AND GABRIEL ASKS HER LIKE “What do you think of Ladybug and Chat Noir?” AND SHE’S LIKE “I’D LIKE TO MAKE THEM SANDWICHES, TO THANK THEM FOR PROTECTING THE CITY” AND GABRIEL IS LIKE “??????????”
notes: I was
gonna go the Narnia route and then realized I hadn’t read Narnia for about…8
Through the Wardrobe
Sakura likes to get away from the world once in a while. Unfortunately, Sasuke makes that impossible
It is her place away from the bumbling nonsense of the real
world. Though the space is small, Sakura manages to find enough room to lean
her back against the dark cherry wood and tickle the other side of the wardrobe
with her toes. She breathes in its rustic scent, and opens half a door
panel—just a bit!—to let in some light.
Sometimes she reads. The lack of proper lighting makes it
hard, especially in the evening, but Sakura wages through the hindrance. Other
times, she writes in her diary—the silence surrounding her, interrupted only by
the scratching of a near-empty fountain pen and lousy paper—about the thoughts
circling her mind or the events of the day.
But mostly, she sits there and just bathes in the serenity
of peace. Everything is perfect, alone in this wardrobe.
Then, one day, her haven as she knew it, crumbles into
“What are you even doing here?” Sasuke asks. He peers
through the small crack of the panel opening, her light hole, and Sakura
screams from surprise. Sasuke, equally shocked by her outburst, falls back a couple
steps and onto the floor.
Sometimes One Direction (or specifically Liam and Louis) can be emotionally distressing enough that it’s not enough to just let it all wash over you as it comes, you know? Sometimes you need answers. Sometimes you have to go on the offensive. Sometimes you need to know for sure how much is out there, because waiting for it to come to you is nervewracking. Sometimes you REALLY need to know what happened in what order because apparently there’s a WARNING SYSTEM in place. Sometimes you’ve just got to start a gdoc called “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN PARIS,” open YouTube, and go to town just to conquer your own demons, you know?
SO LET’S DO IT. LET’S COVER EVERYTHING FROM JUNE 21ST IN THE ORDER IT HAPPENED. THANKS TO COLDBAM FOR BEING MY EMOTIONAL SPOTTER AND ALSO FINDING BETTER ANGLES OF THINGS.
She’s trembling so hard he’s afraid she might fall to pieces right in front of him, in the well-lit living room, all over the soft rug she picked out only a couple of weeks ago after hours of indecision and ‘but isn’t this one gonna be easier to wash?’ He remembers. He was there, with all of his non-existent experience in rug-purchasing.
She whirls around, an angry and slightly unstable finger pointed at him.
“No. You do not get to talk!”
“NO!” she advances on him suddenly and her finger sure as hell doesn’t seem that unstable when she jabs it into his chest. Repeatedly. “People who get themselves killed do not get to talk!”
He’s caught somewhere between huffing in exasperation and rolling his eyes. He decides against a second near-death experience today and does neither.
He remembers coming to with a start. Not the way you wake up from a nightmare. Oh, no, much faster. The way a car hits you. He wishes he didn’t know how that feels like. But the aftermath at least was quite different. No broken bones, just shivers running down his body, running away from the inferno that were Emma’s lips, pressed firmly, almost viciously against his.
He would have liked a moment to celebrate the fact that he was alive, that the woman he loved was kissing him, that they were True Love. He wouldn’t have turned down a bone crushing hug, a few more kisses, perhaps some breathless exchange of loving oaths between them. He had read Henry’s book and while he would never even entertain the idea of telling Snow that, he’s pretty sure they can top ‘the glass coffin kinda gave me pause’ quite easily, amused as he had been by the queen’s sass.
For those who have been seeing those two little words pop in the Caryl tag for the past two days, lemme ‘splain…No, it is too much…Let me sum up.
I, along with many outspoken others, have gotten tired of seeing wank in the Caryl tag. I’m not talking about critical discussion or civilized disagreements, because those can be wonderful and constructive things. Nay, I am alluding to the negativity for the sake of negativity, the hurtful and unnecessary unpleasantness posted by some members of every party involved. It tends to come in waves, like the worst kind of flash mob, and all we can do is huddle below deck in our ship and wait for it blow over, right?
Wrong! Instead of enduring the storm, let’s fight it! Not with more wank or angry finger-pointing, but instead with love and warmth and everything that makes us love Caryl in the first place and that keeps us coming back. Let’s not go into other shipping tags to try to do some peacekeeping; from what I understand, those attempts have not been well-received or appreciated. Let’s instead focus on our space, and let the good vibes and love spread from a healthy epicenter!
A group of Carylers and I have been plunking around with this Operation Levity idea for the past two days, and it has been hysterical and fun and just wonderful.
Sound like a party yet? Because Hell yeah!
If you want to join the fun, just strap on your arm floaties and dive right in; the water’s great! Just post something happy about Caryl. It can be goofy, sweet, fluffy, flirty, sexy, whatever you like, but always in keeping with the loving atmosphere! Headcanons, theories, meta, jokes, fic, gifs, fanart, fanvids, you name it! I welcome it all!
All you have to do is post or reblog the happy thing and tag it as “Caryl” and “Operation Levity.” That’s all there is to it!
Or, as I’m revealing now for the first time, I have set up a submission feature on my blog specifically for Operation Levity posts! Submit it here.
The only rules to Operation Levity are:
The same as the first rule of the USS Caryl - Be excellent to one another.
If you post art or videos or things that aren’t yours, be sure to source the original creators properly.
Do not, under any circumstances, reference, perpetuate, tag, or mention, aggressively or passive aggressively, hate against ships, Caryl or otherwise, characters, or other bloggers. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Affection, however, is welcome and encouraged.
What you post on your blog is your business, but if you use the “Operation Levity” tag, I ask that you keep it loving and happy :)
Have fun with it. This is intended to be a safe zone for all things silly and ridiculous for the love of Caryl.