1. Date a boy who makes you happy, but marry him only if he makes you laugh deep-belly rumbles that hurt your ribs as they expand outwards. Date him when he sees that you’re hurting and he gives you a moment to feel that pain like a handprint spreading across your consciousness, marry him only if he can make you smile even while you’re gross sobbing. The world is not a kind place. You will feel a lot of pain. Make sure you are with someone who makes it all bearable. Humor is an excellent gauge of intelligence. Life gets boring. Find someone who makes the banal interesting.

2. Make sure he has scars on the back of his hands, it’s a good sign he has experience either fighting or making things - creation is an act of selflessness and bruised knuckles are a good sign he knows how to defend himself. You’ve got too much soul to be handled by someone who has never been passionate. If he’s never thrown a punch, let him at least have tasted the insanity of bringing an idea into existence. Rough palms are better than soft ones, they have been salted by this earth and made into leather. Callouses are evidence he has lived, that he has broken skin and been in pain over and over and over again and still came back to the source of it. People rub against each other. Don’t marry him if he can’t handle even a little blister.

3. Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you’ll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can’t change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn’t just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he’s out of it now, you’re going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn’t change that some people just don’t fit.

4. Trust your instincts. If he ever makes you feel unsafe, don’t make excuses, just get up and leave. That’s all there is to it. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

5. If he puts money before you, he’ll keep pushing you to the bottom of the pile until you become his last priority. It’s one thing if he can’t afford what you want, it’s another if he has the cash but won’t spring for a box of chicken mcnuggets. Money and love are arch enemies. 62% of divorces occur due to economic strain. Make sure keeping you is more important than his 401k.

6. How a man treats animals is a good indicator of how he treats children. If you see him raise a hand to a dog, pack your things into a little black bag. Animals at their worst are only half as annoying as a toddler on their best behaviour. Your kids will be beautiful, but they will also misbehave. Same goes for waiters and hotel maids - if he’s rude to those who are working for minimum wage, it says a lot about how he sees himself. Patience is rare and so important. If he’s not forgiving to a dog, he’s not good for your kids.

7. If he isn’t in awe of you, he doesn’t deserve you. You are my little girl and you were born perfect. If he can’t see that, it’s his loss. There is someone who thinks your flaws power his heart. Be strong. If he asks you to change, be like like rock of your birthstone, do not waver. You are wondrous just the way that you are.

—  My father’s recipe for the man I should marry (part 1/2 of a series). /// r.i.d 
My Father’s Recipe For The Man I Should Marry

A Father’s Recipe For The Right Guy

One secret to a happy life: finding the right guy you should date or even marry and this is no easy task. Here is a good advice from a father for his daughter in finding the right guy. This is sweet and touching at the same time.

1. Date if he makes you happy, but marry him if he makes you laugh

Date a boy who makes you happy, but marry him only if he makes you laugh deep-belly rumbles that hurt your ribs as they expand outwards. Date him when he sees that you’re hurting and he gives you a moment to feel that pain like a handprint spreading across your consciousness, marry him only if he can make you smile even while you’re gross sobbing. The world is not a kind place. You will feel a lot of pain. Make sure you are with someone who makes it all bearable. Humor is an excellent gauge of intelligence. Life gets boring. Find someone who makes the banal interesting.

2. Make sure he has scars on the back of his hands

it’s a good sign he has experience either fighting or making things - creation is an act of selflessness and bruised knuckles are a good sign he knows how to defend himself. You’ve got too much soul to be handled by someone who has never been passionate. If he’s never thrown a punch, let him at least have tasted the insanity of bringing an idea into existence. Rough palms are better than soft ones, they have been salted by this earth and made into leather. Callouses are evidence he has lived, that he has broken skin and been in pain over and over and over again and still came back to the source of it. People rub against each other. Don’t marry him if he can’t handle even a little blister.

Keep reading

Reds and Blues injury masterpost

Alright, I did say I was going to do a rewatch and get all the injuries down, so here goes.

I’ll also try and include the PSA injuries, but since those are only semi-canon you can count them or not. 

Red Team


  • Sniper round to the head
  • Got pinned to Red Base by the remote control Warthog
  • Doc drove into him twice
  • Fell down in the Caves below Blood Gulch
  • knocked out with a railgun, suffers “bruised ribs and a broken hip”
  • PSAs
    • Burned alive in Fire Safety


  • Grenade to the face
  • tripped over the Spleen Ball
  • got his hand stuck in the warthog’s machinery
  • Sister’s ship landed on him and he fell down into the caves
  • nearly died of dehydration in the dessert
  • Shot in the chest by Washington and nearly bleeds out
  • Had a grenade explode behind him and knock him unconscious
  • PSAs
    • Had fingers blown off by fireworks


  • “Ow, the back of my head!”
  • “Ow, the front of my face!”
  • Became a cyborg
  • Shot himself in the foot
  • PSAs
    • Burned alive in Fire Safety

Grif (who has a full page dedicated to his injuries, btw)

  • Run over by a tank
  • Shot by sniper round while hiding on the top of the canyon
  • Is shot at the beginning of all of Red Team’s emergency plans
  • nearly died because of an allergic reaction to cleaning solutions
  • was set on fire
  • Was blasted off the top of Valhalla
  • has had AT LEAST 9 (nine) punches and kicks from TEX directed at his groin
  • Got shot by Sarge while running drills
  • Imaginary
    • killed and his dead body used to gum up the giant windmill
  • PSAs
    • Got burned alive in Fire Safety
    • Grifball kills

Blue Team


  • Was tortured and fragmented
  • Self-destructed in Washington’s head (Epsilon)
  • team killed via tank
  • had a bomb literally go off in his stomach
  • Improper use of the Man-Canon at Valhalla sent him skidding across the damn map
  • Was killed by an EMP (Alpha)
  • Shot in the foot by Tex (Epsilon)
  • Fragmented himself (Epsilon)
  • PSAs
    • Had a hole drilled into his ass by those NASA probes


  • Crunchbite beat the hell out of him
  • An alien parasitic baby literally clawed himself out of his stomach
  • he was shot in the back by O’Malley or Church that one time in season two with a rocket launcher
  • rock landed on his head and laid him the fuck out
  • Stabbed in the gut by Felix


  • Church shot his toe off
  • He had three AI in his head and then had them violently removed = brain damage
  • Massive blood loss when Junior bit his arm and drank his blood
  • Delta was torn from his head = MORE BRAIN DAMAGE
  • The time he stepped on a mine and got blown sky high
  • landing on the ground after being blasted sky high
  • PSAs
    • Got burned alive in Fire Safety
    • Jumped off the side of the canyon
    • had Asian Bird Flu


  • Got blown up by Donut’s grenade
  • killed by the EMP (Beta)
  • Epsilon “forgot” her and let her memory go (E-Beta)


  • Tea bagged by the Flag Zealots
  • Attacked by Crunchbite and knocked out
  • Long term exposure with Omega gave him Dissociative Identity Disorder

“I’ll catch up.” Raven smiled. Clarke nodded and took off towards the gate. She wasn’t running at first, mostly just trying to put one foot in front of the other. As she rounded the pole coming up from the ground, she had a clear view of him and her feet were moving before she could process it.


Bellamy took a deep breath as the woman led Mel away to the med-tent, he began to turn back to O as he kicked a loose piece of soil. They had saved one girl, only to lose one– and now Finn and Murphy were separated, again. 

He didn’t see her coming– a small bundle of bruises and blonde hair hurtling toward him. He stumbled backward as arms snaked around his neck. He felt small hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

His arms hung out to the side, fingers curled slightly as he tried to process what was happening. Princess? His turned his head slightly finally comprehending the warm body pressed up against his. He felt a wave of emotion bubble up inside of his. One beat. Two beats. It clicked. Clarke. His Princess. She was alive. His arms wrapped around her petite body, pulling her up closer– she was standing up on her toes. 

They swayed a little, Bellamy shut his eyes, burying his head in the crook of her neck, smiling against her skin. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s live. Like a marquee. 

He was sweaty, and grimy and when she pressed her cheek against his, she felt the still warm blood from fresh cuts and she felt him flex his jaw and she felt his body stiffen. And then she felt him melt. His body folded down onto hers, pulling her up and his fingers pulled at the thick fabric of her jacket. She was smiling. She was crying. God she was glad he couldn’t see her face. He’s alive. He’s alive. 

Abby had told her he was alive when he left with Finn and the others, but that was days ago. So much can happen in a day.  But he was here now. Tangible. She felt his body humming against hers. She felt his breath hitch, like a laugh, in relief.  He’s alive. 


He closed his eyes tighter, he didn’t want to let go. She was here. She was here. In his arms, alive. 

They pulled apart, he didn’t comment on the tears she quickly wiped away. He only saw her bright eyes shining back at him– like looking at the stars, they sparkled like she was on top of the world. He smiled, exhaling his disbelief.


A day ago, Bellamy had been dead. 


A day ago, Clarke had been dead.

He’s alive.


She’s alive.


The world can wait 14 seconds.

1. You’re watching Apollo again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watch him and observe the way his hair has grown the last few weeks and how some strands are falling down to his eyes. He brushes them away, harshly, and you wonder how these bruised hands would feel on your touched-starved skin. Apollo’s skin glistens warm like desert sand when the sun caresses him. Your name is Icarus. You’re born for this.

2. You watch Apollo again. You watch bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or is it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It’s a holy ceremony and you pray with your knees on the cold asphalt and your hands down your jeans. It’s your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse.

3. You watch Apollo again. You watch Apollo and Apollo watches back. His eyes are blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug blue that breaks through the orange sky like a caramel sunrise. Apollo watches back and you feel your blood freezing inside your veins. It’s a bitter realization how much power this man holds over you. Your body shivers. Not even the sun warms you up.

4. You blink. You’re leaving the library with arms packed full of books about freedom and flying and birds who are chained to the sky when you see him. You can’t prevent it anymore, your eyes are drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotizes you over and over again and you’re terrified by the light but you’re more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. Apollo smokes and his body bends in a way that makes you forget to breathe. Apollo smirks. He likes how you burn.

5. You blink. You’re at a party of someone you never met before and you don’t know how you ended up in this shady house with too many people and too little space but you sway your hips to the beat, close your eyes, count to ten. You think the neon lights blind you for a moment but your heart tells the story of crooked teeth and the smell of burned ashes and when you open your eyes you see him and he’s watching you, unashamed, as you did so many times before but this is not right, this is not the way it should be between you two so you start to run before you’ve even left.

6. You sit outside and the party is still full on in the background but you have a hard time understanding if it’s your heart that hammers between your ribcages or if the bass of the music drums through your head, you feel dizzy, you feel like vomitting your feelings to the ground when suddenly everything dies down. Apollo closes the distance and suddenly you’re sitting side by side and you see words like fatal and mistake dripping off his eyelashes. He’s making you quiet. He’s making you furious. You don’t know which one you prefer.

7. You sit outside and the party is still full on and Apollo closed the door and everything is quiet. There’s a gap between reality and something like blood sticks between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you don’t mind because his hands are on your neck, on your face, in your hair - do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still - and you are, you are still, you are quiet when he drags you over to the wall and pushes his knee between your legs and you want this, want him and his fingers dig painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he holds you still, so still you can’t move and it hurts it hurts and then he breaths nicotine down your throat and it feels like a prayer when every nerve inside of you splinters. You let yourself bleed into him. You forget that you only bleed on Sundays.

8. You stand outside with a boy between your legs and the party is still full on and Apollo breathes nicotine down your throat but it doesn’t taste of poison, it doesn’t taste of sulphur or ashes it tastes of sunshine and the weight breaks your ribs apart. The space between you two dwindles into nothing. The cigarette burns down until nothing remains but Apollo doesn’t stop until his mouth moves against yours and everyone told you it’d feel like drowning but it’s not, it feels as if he’s dragging you from the sea and you melt into his arms and he kisses you and you offer your flesh and your dreams and your mind and he takes greedily everything you give.

9. You blink. There’s your father and Apollo’s sister and there are people who love you and so many people who tell you he’s not good for you but you don’t care and you start to wear his cologne like a dress of bones and dead flesh and your eyes are blinded from the sun that shines through the hole where Apollo’s heart should be. Your phone buzzes once, twice, and you run before he even asks you to because you still believe he will patch you up every time he leaves you like a molten mess of wax on his sheets, spent and hurt. You watch Apollo pick your flesh between his teeth and you take his name and bury it between your thighs.

10. You blink. You’re at Apollo’s house and you don’t know how it happened or when you arrived but it feels sacred, it feels right, it feels good. Apollo looks at you with a red jumper and a fading bruise on his cheek and knuckles red and white and blue and raw and his touch is burning and you wish, you wish, you wish so desperately but you don’t even know what you’re wishing for anymore and then Apollo comes closer and he kisses you and you remember a bad night where the stars don’t shine, where the nightmares crawl and eat you alive and you feel home.

11. You’re at Apollo’s house and you don’t know how it happened but Apollo takes you to his room and pushes you on his sheets and you feel your skin peeling away when he drags his fingers over your chest. You want this, you remind yourself, you want this and Apollo makes the decision for you and you’re glad, you’re happy, you’re his. You smell salt and waves and blood, so much blood, but you can’t see anything because you have two holes where your eyes have been and Apollo grins and his teeth glimmer like the first sun rays on the hottest day of summer so you fall into his sheets and spread your legs and bare your flesh.

12. You’re in Apollo’s bed and you don’t know how it happened but Apollo lies beside you and he sleeps with a halo around his hair and his fingers clenched tightly around your body. You’re everything he has, you’re everything right in his life and he’s everything wrong in yours but you can’t see it, not yet, so you count the stars that shine through his windows and you wish for him to kill you, and you wish for him to stop bleeding ichor, and you wish for the night to never end.

13. You blink. Again. You’re leaving the library with arms packed full of books about freedom and flying and birds who are chained to the sky when you see him. Apollo smokes and he smirks and perhaps there had been a time when someone could have saved you before but you can’t prevent it anymore,  your eyes are drawn to the sun and you’re terrified by the light but you’re more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. Apollo smirks and you hold your breath when the sky shatters around you and he asks you to come with him and you follow, you always do. The sun is your witness and it burns unyielding at the horizon. Your name is Icarus. You are born for this.

- Exit Wounds | r.m
excerpt from my book Sunblind, download it here or buy a printed copy here


i was scrolling through the time drake tag and i came across this AU where it talked about the possibility that Bruce lost all his wealth// didn’t inherited WE and so he doesn’t have the funding but he’s still Batman anyways??

yea i found that AU super interesting so i drew up my own interpretation of Tim in this AU (if you guys know the source of the AU then send me an ask so i can link back to the person!) 

I’m doing Jason next! also click through for captions 

small sheith headcanons:

-Keith has a habit of absentmindedly twiddling with the fingers on Shiro’s metal hand, he doesn’t realize he does it but Shiro does and it always makes him feel a little bit ever.

-Back at the Garrison they had to learn morse code and they’d both literally communicate by batting their lashes at each other or tapping on each other’s hand if it was something personal.

-Even when in outer space they’ll still bat their lashes at each other and it confused everyone else when Keith snorted and nearly choked on space goop. 

-Shiro has a strong tedency to throw his arm in front of anyone when they’re in potential danger. One time he did this with his metal arm and managed to clock Keith right in the jaw and it wasn’t a pleasant experience, he felt guilty. 

-Keith forgave Shiro but had a bruise from the bottom of his ear down to chin for a week and called it his ‘trust’ bruise and laughed about it later. 

-Shiro and Keith can sit for hours and literally do nothing in each other’s company. Its comforting silence for both of them and they find a lot of joy in it.

-If you don’t think Shiro has and will listen to Keith’s conspiracy talk for hours then your wrong.

-his favorite thing though is when Pidge and Keith get into talking about conspiracies, some of them had him laying awake at night even though most of it was lore. 

-When Shiro found out that Keith understood Korean a lot better than English he tried his best to learn a few phrases and basic sentences. He finally walked up to Keith and tried to start up a conversation but messed up the pronunciation and it was the first time he saw Keith laugh. 

-Shiro decided that day that Keith’s laugh could probably bring the dead back to life because its very lively. 

-they have an inside joke about oil on tools, ‘Oh isn’t this just so slick of you, you wry little wrench.’ Something Shiro said at the garrison to himself that Keith won’t let go. 

-Shiro laughs at puns, doesn’t matter if they’re bad or not. He is very entertained by them. 

okay but harry has all of these images of louis in his mind, probably coming up in the most random situations and making him feel dizzy and filled with love and satisfaction. louis waking up wrapped only in a sheet, bruise on his forearm from bumping into the door yesterday when he was playing candy crush and not looking where he’s going. louis with a piña colada in hand sitting on the beach in jamaica, his feet buried in the sand and his face slightly sunburnt but his eye lines reading happiness. louis on a random tuesday afternoon, eating a muffin and reading a book while humming a melody that would later turn out to be a song on their album. louis on a call with a charity, sitting in their LA home with a laptop in his lap, his hoodie too large, just like his heart. louis tired after a long business day, silent on the car ride home, looking into the distance, looking soft and beautiful. they come at random and make him fall in love again, even if louis isn’t there physically at the moment, he’s in fact always there.

anonymous asked:

ok, hear me out. so, i'm in marching band and play the alto sax too!! n those things can be fuckin dangerous. if they slip outta ur hands, the mouthpiece can clock u in the mouth or cheek and either bruise ur face or bust ur lip open (it's happened to me multiple times,) and so just. imagine after a game rob n sport planned to hang out so they do but rob shows up w a busted lip n sport freaks out like, "are u ok what happened???" n a Very Embarrassed robbie has to explain tht his sax slipped


sporto got so scared the first time he saw it but he learned to carry around band aids for robbie cause he hurts himself a lot


modern greek mythology: ares, god of war, bloodlust, courage, and civil order

he’s anything but nice. he’ll start a fight over everything because he knows he will win. but it’s not the victory he loves. it’s the adrenaline of wrath and power in his body. it’s the grit and the danger. pain and pleasure are blurred in his world. he feels so much he doesn’t feel anything. his hands leave bruises and marks. his lips are cracked and he kisses like a punch to the heart. (feel shellshocked.) he has perpetually reddened knuckles and a smirk dripping blood. he’s not easy on the eyes. in fact, you’ll find him very hard to look at. but there’s also something gorgeous in his ugly. something like a heroic and bitter glory. stuff historians write about. (now if only he can get rid of those damn ghosts-)

These days i’m either wildly in love or absolutely miserable and i’m not sure which feels worse. On our best days I make my shelter with his ribs, his humerus, finding warmth in his skin. On our best days he is my sun, sustaining me. He breathes life into me. On our worst days, he comes crashing down. Snapping my heart, like a massive boot stifling an ant. He is all my hopes collapsing in one swift motion. He is a tidal wave, destroying the shore and receding with all he has taken from me. On our worst days, he is a fire, set ablaze, and hungry for destruction. He does not see me in his path, the one he loves. He does not see me. On our worst days, when the fire is stifled, he always comes back, with kisses and hugs. He looks at my bruises and scars and wonders where they came from. He mends my body at the touch of his hand but he does not see that it is the same hand that left shades of deep purple and blue, the same hand that tore open my skin. On our worst days, I know he destroys without shame, but I still look at him like he’s my kindling sun.
—  cobainsaveus

after the war, dean and seamus move in together. it only makes sense; they are bruised and battered veterans who have spent half their lives together. they’re not ready to go their separate ways just yet.

dean spends his days with luna, taking journalism tips from her and chatting over coffee. he also delves into painting, music, other arts that he never thought to explore while at hogwarts. he doesn’t know what to do with his life just yet, but he has plenty of time to find out. 

seamus, on the other hand, heads immediately into auror training and is assigned to be a hit wizard. though his job is dangerous, he is highly skilled and unflinching in the face of peril. he spends his nights on the streets chasing down criminals, and during the day returns to the flat to sleep.

though they run on different schedules, they are always hyper-aware of the needs the other may have. dean prepares dinner for seamus before he heads out for the night, and seamus repays him by picking up paints or brushes whenever he runs by an art shop. 

they are constant reminders to each other of their shared past, the war they went through, the war they survived. though they may move on eventually, for now they have all the time in the world just to live.


“What did you do that for?” I asked curiously. 

“What?” he said, straightening up and wiping his face on his sleeve. He felt the split lip gingerly, wincing slightly.

“Offer to take that girl’s punishment for her. Do you know her?” I felt a certain diffidence about asking, but I really wanted to know what lay behind that quixotic gesture.

“I ken who she is. Havena spoken to her, though.”

“Then why did you do it?” He shrugged, a movement that also made him wince.

“It would have shamed the lass, to be beaten in Hall. Easier for me.”

“Easier?” I echoed incredulously, looking at his smashed face. He was probing his bruised ribs experimentally with his free hand, but looked up and gave me a one-sided grin.

“Aye. She’s verra young. She would ha’ been shamed before everyone as knows her, and it would take a long time to get over it. I’m sore, but no really damaged; I’ll get over it in a day or two.”

“But why you?” I asked. He looked as though he thought this an odd question.

“Why not me?” he said. 

Things Merlin fans maybe have forgotten/need reminding part 2

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s neckerchief and pulled him close 

Arthur ruffled Merlins hair and also played with it a bit

Arthur values Merlin’s opinion the most 

Merlin has thought of quitting being Arthur’s servant 

Arthur wears his mothers ring 

Arthur wants peace with the druids and will help them

Arthur called Merlin ‘stupid as you are ugly’ but has called Merlin clever, so what he really is saying is that Merlin is clever and pretty ;3

Arthur likes picked eggs 

Merlin schedules the day for Arthur

Merlin pokes holes in Arthur’s belt secretly so he wouldn’t bruise Arthur’s self image if he finds out (he did once)

Simpleton Arthur lets Merlin take the upper hand in the relationship and follows him like a baby duck and is polite. (Like a child)

Arthur rubbed down the horses and washed the plates

Arthur stood in front of Merlin without pants. 

Arthur wanted flowers from Merlin and was jealous 

Merlin loves a circus

Merlin dressed as a knight and wore the cloak

habits (isaac lahey one-shot)

Originally posted by bilesandthesourwolf

Summary: Isaac Lahey was nothing if not observant. So when the newest addition to his pack develops a strange habit, he can’t take his eyes off her. 

Pairing: Isaac x OC

Rating: Teen

Keep reading

canon divergent deancas au

human/graceless!cas freaks out when Dean is injured on a hunt

For an anon

The ghost is gone.

Sam, Castiel, and Dean are alive.

They’re all a little banged up though; Sam has a cut over his eye, Castiel has bruises up his arms from falling, and Dean has a sharp pain in his side that, oh, is an open wound.

Dean looks down at the blood seeping through his shirt and sighs, it’s one of his favorites and now he’ll never get the stains out.

They’re all picking themselves up, getting themselves back together, when Castiel notices.

“Dean!” He gasps, rushing over with his hands outstretched.

“I’m okay, Cas. I’m fine.” Dean tries to ensure him. It doesn’t work.

Castiel’s hands are at the hem of Dean’s shirt before he knows it, pulling it up to inspect the wound with no regard for Dean’s attempts to assuage his fear.

“Oh,” Castiel says, distressed, “Oh, oh no.” He touches the edge of the cut timidly, then pulls his hand back quickly.

“Cas, I’m alright.” Dean says again, laying a hand gently on Castiel’s shoulder, “It’s not deep. I’ve had worse.”

“We’ve both had worse.” Sam says, joining the duo, rubbing at the cut over his eye, “We’ve always come out fine.”

Castiel shakes his head, and his face starts to contort into a grimace. “I can’t do anything.” He whispers, “I can’t help. I- I can’t help.”

He’s blinking rapidly, his bottom lip is quivering.

Castiel has been struggling a lot since the loss of his grace, in a lot of different ways. Mostly he keeps it to himself, but one thing Dean knows that really bothers him is the fact that he can’t heal anymore.

“Cas, I promise it’s okay.” Dean murmurs, giving Castiel’s shoulder a squeeze.

Finally, the tears start to spill from Castiel’s eyes. He pulls in a ragged breath and shakes his head again. “It’s not okay, it’s not okay-“

It breaks Dean’s heart, and he hates for this to happen in front of Sam because he knows that Castiel will be mortified later. He has to fix it, he has to soothe the pained look from Castiel’s face.

Dean presses closer to Castiel, wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him into an embrace.

“Hey, I got you.” Dean says into Castiel’s hair, not thinking about the fact that Sam is right there and he doesn’t actually know about the change in Dean and Castiel’s relationship yet, “It’s alright, sweetheart, I swear. I’m here, i’m gonna be fine.”

He rubs his hand in small circles on Castiel’s back, presses a kiss to his temple. “We’re all okay. We’re all okay.”

Castiel’s fingers are clenched in the fabric of Dean’s shirt, his face buried in Dean’s shoulder. It takes a minute to coax him back out, but when he does, his face is wet with tears.

“Hey there,” Dean whispers, reaching up to thumb away the moisture from beneath Castiel’s eyes, “I missed you.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, “I’m not a child, Dean.” He grumbles, but he doesn’t move away.

“I know,” Dean says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Castiel’s down-turned mouth, “I know.”

It’s only after the kiss, when Castiel’s face is sliding into something softer, less devastated, that Dean remembers Sam.

He looks up to find his brother standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows practically ascending into his hairline.

“Is there something you guys want to tell me?” He asks, a little condescending.

“Uh,” Says Dean.

Castiel turns quickly in Dean’s arms, eyes wide. “Sam! I-”


“That’s- i mean-”

“We’re sort of-”

“Yes! I mean- you go. Sorry, Dean. Go ahead.”

“No that’s- it’s okay, but I-” Dean clears his throat, takes a breath, and says, “We’re, um, sort of… together?”

“Is that a question?” Says Sam.

“We’re together.” Dean affirms, “You know, in a- like-” He clears his throat again, “romantic sort of… way.”

Sam rolls his eyes, and Dean thinks that must be where Cas picked it up from, “You know I actually figured that, what with the kissing.”

Dean huffs, frowning at his brother. “Then what’s with the third degree, Samantha? We’ve got shit to do.”

“Not like you were doing it anyway.”

“There was a situation!”

“You’re a situation.” Sam says pettily, but he goes to start picking up their dropped equipment.

“I knew.” Sam says later. They’re in the car, headed back to the bunker. Castiel is sleeping soundly in the back seat.

“Huh?” Says Dean.

“About you and Cas. I knew.”

“You knew? No way.”

Sam huffs. “Okay, I didn’t know for sure, but I had a hunch. When were you going to tell me?”

Dean sighs. “I don’t know, Sam. It wasn’t like it was a secret, exactly, we just… Cas is having a rough time and… it just seemed like a good idea to keep everything kind of quiet. We’d have told you soon, I swear.”

Sam frowns, but doesn’t argue.

“How’d you know?” Dean asks after a while.

“A couple of weeks ago, I came into the kitchen and Cas was cooking breakfast in only boxers.”

“So what?” Dean wonders.

“They were your boxers.”


the moment they manage to safely land and exit the alien spacecraft, bones is on him, hunting for bruises and broken ribs. he’s muttering about aliens and danger and how space is a damn death trap, jim. his hands are soft and warm and they flood jim with the same heat they always have, the way only leonard mccoy has managed to do. 

“i swear, the anxiety alone from this job is gonna kill me–”

jim catches one of leonard’s hands in his own. “bones.”

“jim,” leonard replies.

“you gotta admit,” jim says, kissing his knuckles. a faint blush stains bones’ cheeks and jim can’t help but grin at the sight. (iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou). “you gotta admit that was at least a little fun.”

bones ducks his head, rolling his eyes. “your definition of fun needs some major revisions,” he shoots back. 

when he looks back up, though, he is grinning, too. 

“You’re so stupid, you know that?”

Blaine’s voice sounds hollow to his ears as it echoes in the silent room. The heart monitor beeps, then, and Blaine looks over, stares at those little lines just to reassure himself that Kurt is alive, that he is okay—relatively speaking. That he isn’t reduced to another name in the paper, another sad story. At the thought Blaine’s stomach locks up, heart thudding painfully in his chest.

He takes Kurt’s hand, care of the IV. For a moment he stares at the blue-purple of the bruises on Kurt’s knuckles, how wrong they look against his perfect, pale skin. Blaine has never seen marks on Kurt of any kind unless he left them there, and these are so startlingly different from love bites and scratch marks that for a second Blaine almost loses it, can feel the huge, uncomfortable bubble of a sob clawing its way up his throat.

Keep reading

If you’re ever sad, just think about how:

  • Kuroko has to stand on his tiptoes to kiss Kagami’s cheek, and Kagami has to hunch over to peck Kuroko’s nose.
  • Kagami’s arms are just big and long enough to completely envelop Kuroko in his own little warm cuddle space.
  • With that, Kagami wraps his arms all the way around Kuroko, with some room to spare so he has to squeeze, and gives the absolute best hugs in the world.
  • Kuroko would need help reaching the things in Kagami’s higher cabinets and it drives him crazy while Kagami loves it and just smirks at him.
  • On the other hand, Kagami would have to duck under all the short Japanese doorways, and when he knocks his forehead because he forgot again, dammit, Kuroko fondly chuckles at him before tugging him down to check for bruising.
  • Kuroko’s head is at the perfect level for him to nose along Kagami’s collarbone before burying his face in his chest, his ear at the exact same place Kagami’s heart is.
  • Kuroko also has the perfect height to rest his head against the point of Kagami’s shoulder when they snuggle on the couch watching games on TV.
  • Kagami’s hands would absolutely engulf Kuroko’s, to the point where he can curl his fingers around Kuroko’s wrists with ease.
  • Even though he’s so much smaller, Kuroko has in canon given Kagami a piggyback ride, at least from the locker room to outside, where he shortly after dropped him.
  • Kagami could easily pick Kuroko up and throw him on the bed or against the nearest wall, depending on which is closer.
  • And even though Kuroko barely reaches his shoulders, he still somehow manages to corner Kagami with his eyes and teeth alone.
  • Kagami and Kuroko were built for each other and they both love how much larger/smaller the other is~