because one day

What do you guys will happen next for Stiles and Lydia?


Let me know, I want to hear your theories

SHE WANDERS through the town, the white fur scarf still wrapped around her neck whilst hands holds onto the paper cup dearly. February still had winter’s breathe, though it was more comforting then last month’s. atleast her toes weren’t freezing. 

sneeze, then a sniffle, she lets her eyes wander among the decorations that littered the town. ‘heartseeker’s day.’ a festival that would be completely different if it were celebrated in noxus. she was really never one to participate in such events – and besides, festivals were for the people that could afford to celebrate them. (and sadly, she never seemed to fit the bill.) 

a content sigh and she sips on the hot chocolate that she had bought earlier. the familiar sweetness and warmth spreads through her body and eyes lowers – just a bit. if she feels festive, then she shall participate in some of the events that were happening. but for now, she’ll stay idle and watch. 

that fucking guess what dayy it is pic is going to kill me one day because I’ll remember it while doing something dangerous like driving and then I’ll start laughing and die

anonymous asked:

When I was a young boy my father.......

tOOK ME INTO THE CITY TO SEE A MARCHING BAND HE SAID SON WHEN YOU GROW UP WOULD YOU BE THE SAVIOR OF THE BROKEN THE BEATEN AND THE DAMNED HE SAID WILL YOU DEFEAT THEM YOUR DEMONS AND ALL THE NONBELIEVERS THE PLANS THAT THEY HAVE MADE BECAUSE ONE DAY I’LL LEAVE YOU A PHANTOM TO LEAD YOU IN THE SUMMER TO JOIN THE BLACK PARADE

sleepover saturday!

Today...

My great grandpa took me to tea, bought me roses and chocolates for Valentine’s Day.

He told me that he wants me to think about him every Valentine’s Day because one day he won’t be here anymore and if my future man doesn’t do at least what he did for me then he doesn’t approve.

It made me cry.

Happy Internet Friend Day!

@phantasizingabouthowell honestly Rachel we’ve never met but I really hope to one day because you’re amazing and I’m so incredibly glad we started talking even if it was so random and out of the blue xD you’re such a cool person and I love talking to you and skyping you it’s a highlight of my day <3 thank you for being my friend, beyond even “internet friend” because you’re great and I love you. Sorry this is so late in the day but aye better late than never! Happy Internet friends day you beautiful human xx

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four pines, four days until the gravity finale ≡ stanford pines; being a hero means fighting back even when it seems impossible.

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luhan with spiky hair (any era) wallpapers ; iphone 4 (download)
➥ requested by @peachy-baes

It isn’t until they’re forty minutes down the I-70 that Dean is able to speak up again. “This thing with Amara, it isn’t—”

“I know.” Sam doesn’t even spare him a glance, calm and composed as he placidly watches the scenery roll by the passenger window.

He should leave it at that. Take Sam’s out and let bygones do what they do best. But a terrified, insistent part of him can’t stand the idea that his brother could possibly misunderstand him. Could think that any part of Dean wants this. Or, even worse, enjoys it. “I mean, the feelings,” he babbles on. “It’s not like they’re anywhere near—”

“Dean, I know,” Sam repeats gently.

Yeah. Alright. There’s being extra careful, and then there’s just beating a dead fucking horse. “How did you figure it out?” he asks eventually.

“You called out her name.” And that bit comes out a little rueful. “More than once.” Sam lets out a benign sigh and shifts around in his seat. “I thought I was imagining things at first, but I picked it up pretty quickly after that.”

He can’t stop the wince on that one. Usually, Dean prefers it when their eventually mandatory heart-to-hearts end up taking place in the Impala. Safe driving requires a certain lack of touching and mush, and there’s something relieving about being able to sidestep a moment before it gets too Hallmark. This time’s different though. He almost wishes he’d been able to spit all this up back at the freaky tire motel, where he could have put a comforting hand on his brother without worrying about driving them into a ditch. “How aren’t you pissed?”

Sam practically melts into sugar as he finally twists around to catch his gaze—the typical rainbows and fluffy kittens shooting out of his eyes. “I’m not. Not even a little bit. Dean, after everything we’ve been through, after everything you did for me when I was dealing with—” He doesn’t quite finish that thought, but Dean knows where it was headed anyway. “How could you possibly think that I could blame you for something like this?”

Dean gives him a weak smile in thanks, and Sam matches it before steering them back toward safer ground. “You want me pissed?” he teases, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s talk about you kissing the vic and throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. I came about three seconds from laying one on you myself, just to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

Dean doesn’t even want to imagine the qareen’s deadly fist directed at Sam’s precious heart. Or who he’d have seen doing the aiming. “Well, that’s a little petty,” he says instead.

His brother chuckles in response. “Yeah, don’t I know it.”

The comfortable silence only lasts for a minute or two before Dean ruins it again with his dumb mouth. “I’m nervous, Sam,” he blurts out, too honestly. Because if he doesn’t get it out now, then he never will. Dean tightens his hands on the wheel and doubles down. “Listen. You need to know that no matter what I say, no matter what I do when I’m freaking bewitched—”

“Dean—”

“I don’t mean it, okay? No matter what happens when she’s got her hooks in me.” He risks a glance to make sure his brother’s paying attention. “You gotta know that right now is what’s real. Alright, sweetheart?”

Sam just patiently waits for him to expound on that, and Dean feels a slight twinge of irritation at having backed himself into a corner. Stupid, perfectly understanding little brothers. Confessing stuff would be so much easier if he didn’t have to deal with all the fucking words. “This is what I really want,” he forces out. “Okay? You. This.” He twitches a hand between them. “Us.” Dean swallows hard. “And if I forget that—”

“I won’t let you.” When he looks over again, Sam is staring at him like the sun is shining out of his ass. And Dean refuses to admit melting a bit under the sappy sound of his brother’s voice. “I love you too, you emotionally-constipated idiot.”

He carefully tucks the words away somewhere to the left of his heart, and then grumbles a little out loud, just for posterity’s sake. “That isn’t what I said.”

“Yes, it is.”