love washes over all

hippo campus are the kind of band that make you feel safe. they are wood fires and fuzzy blankets and frost on the windows. they are watching the sun go down in your backyard and watching it rise again the next day. they are grass with daisies growing out of it and huge trees with long twisting branches. they are being with your friends on sunday for lunch and staying until it’s dark. they are laughing until your cheeks are sore and feeling the sun on your skin. they are sitting on the balcony watching the stars in the sky and trying to see how many you can count. they are hearing the rush of the cars or the sounds of birds or the crash of the waves. they make me feel happy.

in case u missed it….,,. the ensemble member who was playing seabury the night i saw hamilton was magical and his hair looked pink in the lighting……i cried like 4 times

ksi imagine - ex girlfriend tag

REQUESTED:  “Hello, please do a JJ imagine where you are exes and you do a video similar to Kian Lawley’s video kissing my ex girlfriend and old feeling coming back”

“Hi everyone it’s your boy KSIOlajideBT,” I remained quiet in the gaming chair as he began his introduction, his fingers forming a salut by his temple. “How are you all? Don’t answer that, I can’t hear you, it’s a pointless question.”

I giggled slightly, receiving a grin from JJ.

“Today I am here with a, erm, slightly…different video, we shall say!” The nervous giggles continued. I’d missed that contagious cackle. “As you can see I’m not alone, would you like to introduce yourself?”

“I mean I’m sure they all already know me, but hi, I’m Y/n.” With a somewhat timid wave I introduced myself before returning my hands to my lap and smiling. 

“Yep, probably. So this is Y/n, Y/n would you like to say a bit more about what we’re doing today or..?”

“JJ,” I laughed slightly. “Why are you being awkward? You good?”

“Man, I dunno it’s just…weird.” The laughs continued. His contagious giggle warmed my heart slightly, even after all this time. “Okay, so incase you are somewhat new to my channel I guess, Y/n is my ex girlfriend. We’ve been broken up for about, six, seven months now?”

He turned towards me to monitor my approval and I nodded. “Seven months,” I confirmed.

“Well, we haven’t actually seen eachother since the break up, but since Y/n was in London and is actually trying to grow a channel herself now we thought let’s rekindle the fire and film a collab!”

“Rekindle the fire?” I questioned. Jide simply shot me a wink. I rolled my eyes.

“Nevertheless, what can be a better idea than texting the first girl you ever loved and inviting her back to your house to bring up all the painful memories you’ve been suppressing for seven months in front of a few million people on YouTube right? So let’s go on!” 

My eyes widened slightly at the extent of his honesty - although I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s Jide after all. 

“JJ, are you sure you wanna do this? I’m feeling you might be a little bit hesitant about this whole thing,” I rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna ask you again - you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He confirmed, reassuring me in all seriousness before continuing the video.

For around half an hour JJ and I proceeded to answer generic questions, revisit memories, and discuss where our lives had taken us now. We decided to check twitter for some more insightful questions from people that knew most of our history - a lot of our relationship had been very public. Even the breakup. It didn’t necessarily end on a bad note, but we didn’t continue contact after, which I was beginning to feel slightly sad about. This time had made me realised how much I had missed Jide as an asset in my life - even if not in the way he was seven months ago.

“Okay so, twitter questions,” He scanned his phone.

“Jide, I swear to God if any of these are sexual-”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“Jide.” I narrowed my eyes, my tone very demanding. He held his hand up in defence.

“Alright alright! Innocent questions only!”

Yeah, right. KSI fans wouldn’t know innocent if it smacked them around the face, I thought. 

“Okay - where is your relationship currently at?” Jide’s voice became serious, professional even. I lifted a leg to my chest as I contemplated.

“Well, as of now, we don’t have much of a relationship,” He watched me intently. There was genuine interest on his face. “But I don’t see why we couldn’t build one? I’ve been planning to move to London, as you may know, and so I think we could definitely spend more time together.”

He nodded along with my words before turning to the camera. “So basically to answer your question she still wants my dick.”

“Jide!” I scolded, hitting his arm although I couldn’t not laugh as he apologised.

“No. What I’m saying is, friends is definitely foreseeable.”

“She’s using big words again I’m just gonna…yeah, move on. Okay, this one’s cool - do you still find each other attractive?”

“You know what Jide, I’m gonna let you take this one away.” I rested my hand on my chin. “Go on.”

His smile brightened to which my heart warmed slightly. As he cleared his throat I raised my eyebrows in an encouraging manner. Interest fulfilled my mind.

“Well,” he proceeded. “I mean of course.You’re pretty fit.” Shrugging, he moved his focus back to his phone.

“Is that it? Pretty fit?”

“What? It’s a compliment!”

“Nope, not good enough, try again.”

“For Gods sake,” he laughed, and I folded my arms. “Nah but in all seriousness guys, of course I still find Y/n attractive. We were together a long time, that wouldn’t change in such a short time, or probably ever.”

“Awww Jide!” I cooed. That was really sweet of him. I really have missed this boy, I thought to myself, and I genuinely hoped our interactions would continue after this video. 

“Plus I’ve seen her naked, so,” he shrugged and I rolled my eyes at the camera. 

“Right, sick.”

“I’m joking!” 

Raising my middle finger at him I encouraged Jide to continue with the questions.

“Okay, we’ll do one more, then we’re gonna go get nandos cause I’m starving.”

“Jide, you know I don’t like nandos right-”

“Y/n, I do, and that’s all that matters.”

I once again looked back at the camera as Jide exploded into laughter at his own jokes. Pointing a finger at him, I raised my eyebrows.

“To anyone wondering why we broke up - this is why!”

“No it’s fucking not don’t lie,” He choked between laughs and I looked down to mask my own giggles. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna scroll and whatever question my finger lands on we have to answer okay?”

“Unless it’s sexual,” I interrupted.

“Even if it’s sexual,” he corrected.

“Andddddd stop! Here we- oh. Shit.”

“What? Jide I fucking swear-”

“No, no, it’s not sexual.” He picked his professional attitude back up, a smirk still present on his face although he appeared slightly nervous. “Can you two kiss for the camera?”

“Oh dear God.” I groaned. “Fuck it.”

Pressing both my hands to his face I leaned into Jide, kissing him swiftly. Although at first he appeared taken aback, he soon warmed into the kiss, placing a hand on my waist just as he used to when we were together. I felt all the love wash back over me in a terrifying way. Do I still love him? Was this a bad idea? Was he thinking the same?

When I pulled back, Jide looked almost disappointed. I edged my eyes over to the camera and watched as realisation hit.

“Oh that! I forgot we were filming,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I can always edit out anything you don’t feel comfortable with keeping in. It’s no big deal.”

I smiled at his gentleman nature.

“In fact,” he continued. “I might just end the video on us leaning in, just to see the comments go crazy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his contagious, juvenile excitement.

“Can we get food now, for real?” He pleaded with me and I smiled.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

Happy Beginnings: A Rumbelle/Gold Family Fic

Summary: In the aftermath of the OUAT Season 6 finale, The Final Battle, Belle and Rumple bring baby Gideon home and celebrate the second chance to raise their child and be a happy family. Featuring emotion, a nursery, reunion smut, fluff, and a special visit from Baelfire. 
Word Count: 6,045
Rating: M for smut
A/N: Hi friends. Here’s a post-finale fic I’ve been mulling over for a while. Took me some time to collect myself but here it is. Tremendous thanks to @maplesyrupao3 for being an extraordinary beta on this story, and to @virgidearie for this art. <3

{On AO3}

Just let that word wash over you
It’s all right now
Love’s healing hands have pulled you through
So get back up, take step one
Leave the darkness, feel the sun
‘Cause your story’s far from over
And your journey’s just begun.”

Their family is going home.

Belle leans against the soft leather passenger seat of the Cadillac, cradling Gideon against her ribs. He lifts a dimpled hand, reaching for a fistful of her hair. Lips parted, she marvels at the perfection of those tiny, pink fingers. “Ouch.” Gingerly, she unwraps auburn strands from around his wrist. Perhaps it would be best to switch to ponytails and braids for a while.

“Our son has a strong grip,” Rumple says, his voice choked with paternal pride.

“Yes.” Belle whispers, mesmerized by the image of Gideon being lulled to sleep by the motion of the car, his breathy coos turning into hums as he drifted off. Was it last evening or the one before, when she was glancing at him in the rearview mirror, a lanky young man draped over the back half of the car? Now he’s a bitty thing, cozy and bundled in Belle’s arms for the short ride home.

Keep reading

i don’t even really ship this but I’m just imaging Wash having like a giant crush on Dr. Grey and big sis Lina is all “why don’t you just go talk to her?”

so Wash is like “That’s easy for you to say when was the last time you tried to hit on someone?”

And Epsilon snickers while Lina stares at Wash for a good 10 seconds before going “Wash I have literally been sleeping with Kimball for 3 months have you honestly not noticed?”

“…why does no one ever tell me anything? also I didn’t need to hear that.”

A Lie-in With Sherlock

Inspired by THE SWEETEST POST by @watsonshoneybee. Thanks so much for letting me write a ficlet based off your wonderful writing. You are lovely! 

Read it on AO3

John wakes up to a tickle of curls against his cheek.  He holds still for a moment, letting the sensations of the morning gradually wash over him. Warmth and love, comfortably seeping in from all sides, broadcast unknowingly by the man still sleeping peacefully by his side.

He takes a slow, deep breath, drawing in the scent of the bedroom, of Sherlock, of them. With a happy sigh, John scoots closer to his love, edging right up next to him until he can feel the soft puffs of Sherlock’s breath against his chin.

It is John’s favorite day- Saturday. And Saturdays mean lie-ins with his favourite detective husband (as long as they’re not on a case, of course). When he recalls the things he’s taught Sherlock over the years- how to speak a bit of Dari or what kind of rice is best for the perfect risotto for example- appreciating the simple pleasures of a lazy morning with the one you love is the one of which John’s most proud.

It seems Sherlock didn’t really understand what a lie-in was or how it could possibly be worth his time. Dull, John was a refrain heard by the good doctor several times before he discovered how to win Sherlock over. Turns out it only took the offer of rough hands carding through smooth curls for an unlimited amount of time-Stay in bed, just for a bit, please love, for me?- to convince one stubborn, petulant detective.   

So now John starts to gently awaken his (shhhhh, don’t tell) lightly snoring boy. He draws his nose across one sharp cheekbone and then the other. The snoring turns into adorable snuffling as Sherlock tries to draw away from and closer to John at the same time, torn between the comfort of sleep and the pull of his husband’s wakeful desire.

John whispers, “Sherrrr-lock, Sherrrrr-loooock,” singing his beloved awake until grey-green eyes peek open, lips barely registering a drowsy smile.  “John?” 

He continues his morning assault, raining kisses over cheeks, a stubbly chin, eyelids, forehead, while chanting, “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!” John chuckles with amusement as Sherlock sluggishly throws one arm over his waist and pulls until their bodies are flush against each other, chests to hips to knees.

“I’m up,” Sherlock drawls, voice heavy and coarse. He clearly isn’t though. Not quite yet.

“Do you know what today is?” John asks, knowing very well Sherlock has deduced it already. “Mmm, yes, Saturday,” comes the answer. It’s muffled, as Sherlock’s face is currently buried in his husband’s neck.  

“That’s right, love. And we’ve no case on anymore, no place to we have to go, no one to come calling. It’s just you and me and this bed for as long as we want today.” John tugs Sherlock over until he’s snuggled up on top of John’s chest.  He trails his hands reverently up and down his sweetheart’s spine, letting fingertips trip over each bone along the way. “I fancy a lie-in. How about you?”

John feels the strength of the muscles in Sherlock’s back as he pushes up on his elbows to look his doctor in the eye. His hair is wild, curls frizzy and disheveled. John notices a faint sheet-line running along his left cheekbone, disappearing into his hairline at the temple. It was a deep sleep, then. Good, good. He doesn’t get nearly enough of that.  

“Will there be tea and toast in bed?” Sherlock asks, sounding sullen to anyone else, yet John knows that voice is really a bit shy and hopeful. John giggles quietly and rises up to brush his lips across Sherlock’s. “Oh God yes, my dear. You know I’d never have a lie-in without breakfast in bed. It wouldn’t be proper without it.”

“Hmm, well that’s alright then,” a satisfied Sherlock replies as he flops back down on top of John, smearing a kiss across his shoulder and causing John to release a surprised “Oof! Watch it, you lazy git!”  

“Your git,” Sherlock chuckles. “Yeah,” smiles John. “You’re all mine.”   

As he catches his breath, John is quite pleased, practically gleeful at the prospect of bringing in another day with this man, the man who is his everything.  He knows they’ll bask in each other as the morning unfolds and leave the world outside to its own devices for a bit.

In a minute, John will head to the kitchen to make their tea. He’ll spread thick slices of the good bread with jam and honey. He’ll balance two cups and one plate only slightly precariously on a makeshift tray made from one of his old medical textbooks. Then he’ll walk carefully back to the bedroom and place it all on the mattress in between he and Sherlock. They’ll eat and talk and kiss and nap some more. They might read the newspaper together (if one of them leaves the bed long enough to go get it).  

But for now, John gently threads his fingers through his already dozing husband’s fringe and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He leans his head back and lets his eyes slip closed. John truly loves a lie-in with Sherlock.

Yes, it’s going to be a good day.


Thank you for pointing me in the direction of angst, dear anon, I hope you will enjoy while I am putting myself back together - and thank you for sending this! Yes, there are many good ones in that list, and writing them is great fun. (Well, fun might be the wrong word in this particular case, but I think you know what I mean …) I’ll start in on the second one as soon as I’ve recovered form this one. (btw, I will also write what turned out to be a typo in this ask that you corrected in a later one. The more, the angstier.)

He woke up in a cold sweat, his heart in his throat, a scream of terror bubbling up that he was barely managing to hold back, howling up from the darkest recesses of his mind. His hand groped for the flashlight in the darkness that he was keeping right next to his pillow all night for just such moments. When he bumped into it, it rolled away, almost tipping over the edge of the mattress, and he caught it just in time, his fingers feeling like lifeless sticks.

He was shaking with terror.

After an eternity, he found the torch’s switch, and as it came on on its lowest setting, he waved it from side to side with uncontrolled, jerking movements, the dim light weakly illuminating the walls and furniture of his bedroom, the closed door and window, the drawn curtains, the blankets bunched around his legs and feet. No naked concrete walls. No pools of dried blood and vomit on the floor. No Polaroid taped up next to his head to remind him of what he had done, what he had caused.

His room. Not a cell. Not a cell. Not a cell.

He repeated it like a mantra in his mind, trying to catch his breath.

His skin was clammy with sweat in the oppressive heat. Feeling a headache coming on, he swallowed the bile that had raced up from his stomach, burning his esophagus and the back of his throat. His stumbling heart was gradually returning to its normal rhythm, and his breathing was no longer coming in panicked gasps. Small favors.

He had been used to nightmares for decades, but the ones he’d been having since the Sanctuary were something else.

Moving slowly, like an old man, he sat up in his bed and then got out, torch in hand, still panting, his pulse still thrumming in his temples and neck, his fingers and toes tingling as circulation came back after the stress of whatever horror he had dreamed up had forced his blood out of his extremities in preparation for an injury.

The gunshot wound in his shoulder and his busted ribs stung from his body’s primal reaction to the dream that he couldn’t even remember, and he held his right arm close to his chest, his hand wrapping itself around the left side of his ribcage. It wasn’t quite as bad as the night before, and the night before that, and the ones before that, so he was pretty sure that his physical wounds were mending just fine.

His mental wounds would take longer to heal, he knew.

He made his way downstairs by the dim glow of his flashlight, padded into the kitchen, and got himself a glass of water that he drained in one long gulp before filling the glass again to take back up with him. The absolute silence of the dark house felt comforting, and he was relieved not to have run into another sleepless soul. Once, the week before, on the eve of their big battle against the Saviors, he’d met Rick and had been unable to deal with that in the immediate aftermath of his nightmare.

The things that had happened to him and his mind’s reaction to them seemed to place him outside of society for now, and he hoped that he would find his way back to a better mental place, given time. In the long run, he didn’t think he would be able to deal with being so removed from the people who had become his family at the end of the world, the family he had never dared to hope he’d have. It felt cruel to have that comfort taken away from him by what had happened, just when he needed it the most. He wanted the solace of his family back.

What a strange thought that was for him, he mused.

When he reached the second floor landing, Carol was waiting for him, looking dreamlike and unreal in her nightgown and the light stole she had wrapped around her shoulders. He stopped on the last few steps of the stairs when he saw her, unsure of what to expect. She had stayed in Alexandria after the battle instead of returning to the Kingdom, but he wasn’t certain that she wouldn’t leave again. She’d had to kill people once more, and he knew how she felt about that.

He didn’t think he would be able to lose her again, after losing her so often already.

Drawing a shuddering breath, he managed to meet her eyes, pale blue in the dim light, and he saw pain there, but no pity. She had never belittled him by feeling pity for him, and he would always be grateful for that, however things were going to turn out in the end.

He made no attempt at hiding his recent terror or his physical pain as he took the last three steps up to the landing. They stood within reach of each other, and he wished he didn’t sense a vast distance between them.

“Another dream?”

She spoke softly, careful not to wake up anyone else, taking in the flashlight and the glass in his hands with one glance. They both knew that he was perfectly capable of finding his way downstairs and back up again in the dark, glass of water included, and that he’d needed the light for entirely different reasons.

Daryl nodded wordlessly, his teeth beginning to worry his lower lip.

As far as he knew, nobody had told her yet that they had taken him, that they’d had him for a week, or about the condition he’d been in when he’d come back. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted her to know, not because he didn’t trust her with that knowledge, and all of it, more of it than anyone but him knew so far, but because he was afraid of what it would do to her. She’d been hurt enough, physically and emotionally. He didn’t want her to get hurt even worse.

He saw a muscle twitch in her face, and then she reached out with one hand and gently caressed his cheek, the scruff on his jaw producing a soft scritching sound as her thumb moved over it. Feeling her touch cut something loose inside him, and a wave of hurt crashed through him, nearly overwhelming him - grief for all that had been taken from them, for all that had been done to them, for all the things the world had put them through as if to grind them into dust and smears of blood and pain and tears on purpose. He shuddered under her fingertips and closed his eyes, his breath leaving him in a defeated gasp.

“I don’t know what happened that did this to you,” she whispered, and he sensed her stepping toward him, his body feeling hers as she closed the distance between them. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to help, that I needed time to ground myself again. I’m sure that, if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here anymore, anywhere near you, anywhere from where I’d be able to come back to you.”

He had sensed that forlornness in her, back at that house, had sensed how fragile she was, and that something essential would shatter if she returned to her family, to their fight, before she was ready.

Had she been ready?

And then he felt the glass and the flashlight being taken out of his hands, and heard her setting them aside, before her arms enfolded him, like they had on her porch, and in her garden, and all the emotions, good and bad, that he had been bottling up inside him broke loose as he felt her care and love washing over him, soothing all that was wrong, a promise of healing, a promise of life.

The feel of her under his hands as he held her in the dark hallway pushed back the terror and fear, and he hoped that he would be able to do the same for her once she was ready. His head sank against her and he felt her fingers combing through his long hair on the back of his head as she cradled him to her, her gentle love all the armor he needed.

“I’m here now,” she whispered, and she gently kissed his forehead, and then held him as he broke.


#Caryl fan fiction

#Daryl Dixon

#Carol Peletier

#LD writes fan fiction


I just want it to be simple for them. Tsukki stays behind after camp because there’s a dinosaur museum exhibition in Tokyo he’s dying to see. Bokuto overhears and somehow turns this into a day adventure for the four of them. Bokuto and Kuroo are so genuinely curious that Tsukki ends up telling them all he knows about dinosaurs with such enthusiasm that he surprises himself. Akaashi ends up gently elbowing Tsukki to tell him “The two of them got more excited than you,” and Tsukki doesn’t find it hard to confess he’s plenty excited himself.

Then it’s Kuroo who wants to come over to Tsukki’s for the weekend to see the fireworks and he brings Bokuto and Akaashi with him. Tsukki’s mother is pleasantly surprised and feeds them so well that they miss the first day of the fireworks and end up watching a movie while sitting at the foot of Tsukki’s bed, their legs tangled. It’s too warm for this but neither of them can move. After midnight, they sneak out of the house to make Bokuto’s newly-coined devious plan come true: sliding down a narrow hill on pieces of wood. And it’s stupid, Tsukki would never do this on his own. But with Akaashi, who’s complaining even though he’s completely on board with the idea, and with Kuroo, who clasps his shoulder just a tad too strong, and with Bokuto, who may as well be part-owl the way his eyes glow in the dark, Tsukki feels invincible.

Then come Skype calls and card games on Facebook and random snaps in the middle of the night and texts and promises of their future on the court, or anywhere else. One morning, two years later maybe, Tsukki is eating his cereal when realization washes over him: he’s completely, utterly in love with all three of them. And he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Until next time, when he sees Akaashi and Kuroo and Bokuto and he knows exactly what to do about it.

Your eyebrows,
Those crescent moons. 

When he walks into the room 
They raise, 
Raise higher into that sky 
Than any lonely rock 
Could ever hope to achieve. 

Affection like raising waves 
Pulled up by your glance 
Only to crash down 
And wash over all those 
You love.
—  Lauren // Lucas Murley

anonymous asked:

Of course I thought of you this morning. I just wanted to come here and let you know that. I started following you a long time ago probably because you posted something Chili Peppers related or John Frusciante, and although they're not really your bag anymore I stayed no question because your love for music, and and I also related to your level of love for Soundgarden (only for me it was Peppers) and I appreciated that.

not too long ago i went to a show and the lead singer of some small punk band was wearing a tshirt with that one hot minute era of RHCP where chad smith had like, bleached blonde hair and they were all sitting in front of the sears marble school photo background. you know the picture. and that above everything had washed over me all the love in the world for that band. i’ve actually picked them up again because of that shirt alone. i hope i can find it too, it’s such a great shirt and photo in general. dave navarro especially.

but thank you for reading all this time and being a friend. it’s crazy to think that the passing of someone famous has people sending their condolences my way like he was a family member or something. but he was to all of us.

thank you

Her Dark Prince.

Week 50:  A creation myth. For this story’s purpose, please disregard any family relations that this tale usually has in Greek mythology, as in this piece, Hades is not evil, nor is he related to the Olympian Gods/Goddesses.

It is believed that Hades kidnapped Persephone.

What many were reluctant to accept, was that she fell in love with the Lord of the Underworld and agreed to run away with him. It was only when her mother, Demeter, found out, was a deal struck – that she would spend six months away from the Underworld. In these six months, she provided, light and sun and warmth for humanity, to bring about the change in seasons. But when the world turned cold and frosty, that is when humanity knew she had returned to the Underworld.

Hades had captured her heart, he was charming and intelligent, unlike Zeus, her father, who was always talking about wars and conquests. The women of her household often disagreed on many things, Athena was always headstrong and first into battle, while Hera, hated Persephone for she was the daughter of another woman Zeus had slept with. Most of the summer months, she spent with Apollo and Artemis, for they were likeminded and enjoyed the hunt, the wild, the sun and moon, arts and music.

But she was always glad to return to her husband.

He was tall and handsome, had dark hair and blue eyes. When she had first visited in the Underworld, she was distraught – hearing all the wounded souls, those passing on to greener fields, or those staying to live out their punishments, but it was Hades who showed her his home, where she was safe and away from the evil souls who screamed in the fiery pits of hell. His voice was always soft with her, like a gentle caress, he’d dedicated an entire hall for books and crafts and all the things she liked, never did he pressure her to do anything she didn’t want to.

He had warm hands and a broken, but loving heart. He made her feel safe and warm, important and equal to him. He often asked for her advice and help on punishments and she soon had a thirst for achieving justice for the victims of the corrupt souls she faced. The first time they kissed, it was the first time any man had touched her, he cupped her face and brought his lips to hers gently, almost hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost as soon as his lips met hers, he had pulled away, “I shouldn’t have acted so sudden. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean –

Persephone had giggled, she remembered. Stepping closer to him, she pulled him down and kissed him with all her might. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she parted her lips and nibbled on his bottom lip, a growl is what she heard after and one she loved to hear. His arms wrapped around her waist and she could feel the broadness of his body, how strong and capable he was. But not only that, beneath all the valour and smirks, was a man she would soon fall in love with.

A man who treated her with respect and kindness, a man who cried when things were too much for him to handle, a man whose heart had been broken by his own family, a man who saw the whole world and all its faults, only to laugh with the sun and take joy in his art.

He was a man who believed in love and care, one who would cancel the day’s business in a heartbeat to see her smile and kiss her skin. His heart was larger than life, when it came to her, he didn’t hold back, showering her with delights and riches, but all she needed was him.

A man who held her at night and made love to her slowly, gently, patiently. He made it last, made her feel higher than the clouds, had her soaring and climbing, climbing, climbing

Until she fell into sunlight and golden kisses, until she arched off their bed and let go. Until all she knew was love, his voice and the pleasure that washed over her.

Until all she could hear was, “I love you, I love you, my darling.”

With him, she was home.

11 THINGS TO DO IN 2017 | Julio Balda
  1. Understand that everyone is growing, and changing, including yourself.

  2. Don’t isolate yourself, surround yourself with those that love you. and that TRULY love you.

  3. Listen to music, indulge yourself, let it wash all over your body, in every situation.

  4. Don’t check their instagram.

  5. Write about what you’re feeling, express them, don’t be afraid to share them.

  6. Learn and understand your worth. You are worthy.

  7. Treat your body nicely, this includes your mind.

  8. Smile if you see them, show them you’re not affected.

  9. Don’t be affected.

  10. Don’t romanticize the past.

  11. Live your truth.

Written by Julio (ig: gothjulio)

I'll Never Stop Loving You (Sam x Reader ficlet)

- Requested by @faithstararts - This one goes out to all the Sam fans! In this story the reader is self-deprecating and Sam is there to cheer you up! Btw, I’m trying to make my ficlets for all genders, so pronouns are not used. Hope that’s okay!

It was that feeling again. You had these moments of discontent where you just couldn’t shake the sense of hate for yourself. That was why it boggled your mind that you ever were lucky enough to have Sam in your life. A demon. How could a demon ever love a human? You were nothing but a simple, worthless human. and he was everything. But, you loved Sam, and you could never let him go. You sank into your bed and tears pricked your eyes at the thought of him leaving you. “S'up, Doofus?” You heard Sam’s voice shout, as he practically kicked the bedroom door open. You quickly wiped your eyes and looked up at Sam, forcing a small smile. He had something behind is back. (no wonder he kicked the door open) “What’ve you got there?” You say, a curious tone masking your depression. “Something!” He said, with a smug grin on his face making you arch a brow and widen your smile. You loved that face. You loved him. Even that stupid smile and his dorky hair. And his laugh and how much he loved you! You didn’t think you were worthy of that love. These thoughts brought you back to your old ones and your smile curved into a frown and you furrowed your brows. “Huh? Doofus, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His smug expression refined into a genuine and concerned face. “I don’t understand!” You manage to choke out. Tears began to stream down your cheeks again. Sam, however, quickly got whatever he had behind his back and placed it on the nightstand, before cupping your face and wiping your cheeks. “Understand what? What’s the matter?” He was confused and worried. He truly loved you and there for you. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You knew that if you opened your mouth you would wind up a wailing mess. You just lowered your eyes and whimpered softly. “Look at me.” You looked up to see see his see his loving emerald gaze. His eyes spoke incredible heights of his love for you. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” He then pulled you into a loving embrace. “But I need you to be okay first. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you so much!” You returned the hug and kiss his cheek. “I don’t understand how I ever came to deserve you, you big dork!” You said, tears stained your cheeks but… you smiled. “Seriously!? I don’t think I’ll ever come close to being who you deserve!” He shouted, smiling widely, eyes watery. “I think we’re both just hopeless dorks in love!” You said, with a chuckle. “Yeah. Oh shit, I almost forgot!!” Sam’s eyes widened before he reached towards the nightstand. He then placed a small gray box in your hands. “What’s this?” You ask, sniffling. “Why don’t you open it? Doofus.” He smirked. You smirked back, opening the box. Your heart completely melted at the sight of silver dog tag with the engraved words, ‘I love you so much, Doofus.’ You quickly put your hand over your mouth to cover your gasp. The ‘Brute’ was the most amazing man you have ever met and you were thankful to have have him in your life. “I hope you like it. It was reall–” before he could finish, you cut him off with a sweet, blissful kiss full of love. Within seconds, he melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist. He slowly pulled away with a soft smile. “So, I’m guessing you like it?” He questioned and you nodded. “It’s amazing Sam. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world!” You then kissed him again and he returned it. This man was everything you ever wanted. He was un-real yet, he here was embracing and kissing you. You couldn’t be happier when he was with you. He loved you and you loved him. He pulled away once more, panting slightly. “I promise that I’ll never stop loving you” He then pulled you into another kiss and you could feel all of his love washing over you. You were happy.

The Professor’s Reinforcements

Summary: In order to help clear the murder charge against Chuck, Sam asks for help from an old friend and his fiance.
Characters: Detective Cole Trenton, Sergeant Ellen Harvelle, Sam Winchester, Female Reader, Rufus Turner, Doctor Robert Singer, Tara (OFC), Meg, Crowley, Professor John Winchester
Word Count: Around 1,600
Warnings: Language, implied police corruption, angst, fluff, suspense.
Author’s Note: Part 12 of my Professor John series.
@deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @hidingfrommychildren @balthazars-muse @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @spnfanficpond  @mrswhozeewhatsis @iowarose @mrs-squirrel-chester @ginger-rae1991 @dacianamusik23 @rizlow1 @saenalife
GIF not mine (x)
Want to read it from the beginning?

Detective Cole Trenton sat at his desk; a red pen dangling between his fingers while he chomped on a plastic toothpick. He was working his way through a case file that had been handed to him by his sergeant earlier in the day; the murder of Richard Roman, Dean of the local college.

Everything pointed to Charles Shurley; a professor of Biblical and Theological studies. He also happened to have adult onset schizophrenia with violent tendencies; see attached file. An assault charge had been filed a week earlier; the professor struck his boss in a heated argument. The accused also didn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder.

Keep reading

You Are In Love {S.M}

requested// imagine based off of taylor swift’s “you are in love”

author’s note// i really love this song, and hopefully you guys will love this imagine as much as i love this song lol. so enjoy my loves!


The room was dark. It wasn’t pitch black, and if you held your hand out in front of you from a distance, you could still see it. But dark. Romantic dark. The room had few candles lit along the walls. There were some vases with roses, and a couple with lilies that were seemingly just picked from the backyard. It looked like a scene out of a movie, something that you would see in a Nicholas Sparks novel. The room smelled of old wood with soft odors of the flowers Shawn was placing in the vases. You fiddled with the creme lace at the ends of your dress you had bought in the double clearance section (apparently that’s a thing) at TJMaxx as you waited for Shawn to notice you. He didn’t. 

“Hey.” You uttered, getting Shawn’s attention. He turned around abruptly, his foot knocking over a vase. 

“Oh, God.” He tried to fix the vase, but there were glass shards everywhere. “Jesus… I’m sorry. This was supposed to be… This was supposed to be perfect. I’m sorry, this is such a mess. This isn’t even close to what I wanted for you.” He apologizes, running his hands through his hair. You chuckle a little, moving towards him, your dress fluttering as you walked towards him. Your arms found his torso, as you pulled hi as close to you as physically possible. His large hands went to your head, his fingers running through your hair ever so lightly. His other arm wrapped firmly around you, supporting your weight as you clung to one another like a wet t-shirt. “I’m sorry… This wa-” You cut him off before he could finish. 

“Shawn stop, it’s always perfect when I’m with you.” You whisper into his chest, taking in a bit of the scent of his suit. The suit was a little bit big, and it smelled like dry cleaner linen. He must have borrowed it from a friend, because he couldn’t afford to rent it. You felt his chest rise and than sink in deeply. 

“You don’t need to say that. I mean… You always point out this house and how much you want to fix it up. We can’t get it together now, but for now we could eat in here but… It’s just not working.” He ran his fingers through your hair again. He put so much stress on this one year anniversary dinner date. He put so much stress on making everything perfect. He was just a singer, playing at bars and restaurants whenever he could, and you were an artist, selling your paintings at art walks whenever they were open and people were bored or rich enough to buy them. You lived in a tiny apartment on the quietest street in Nelson, British Columbia, just trying to get by. You didn’t get to do fancy things. You didn’t get to fix up old houses as a fun couple project. You don’t get to buy each other nice presents. You didn’t get to buy a nice new dress for dinner. 

But you still had Shawn. You still had the picnic basket and old blanket to sit on, and you both knew that the back door of this house was never locked. You stargazed from this very attic many times… Since there was little to no roof. 

“Shawn, this is perfect. I love this. You made this picnic and this beautiful scene. This is the best one year anniversary anyone could ask for.” You implored. You felt him smile a bit, lightening up to the situation. 

“Well… I got you something.” He exhorted. You instantly pulled away, distraught. 

“Shawn, you said no presents. I said no presents. We agreed on no presents.” You stressed. You didn’t get Shawn anything cause you couldn’t afford it. He wasn’t supposed to get you anything. 

“The owner of that pizza joint I play for a lot was feeling generous so… So I got you this.” He pulled a box out of his jacket. Not a ring, it was bigger than that. He opened it slowly, and a locket was in it. It was nice. No, not just nice. It was beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful. It was a small heart, your first initial with his last initial. Was it…. A marriage proposal? And as soon as you thought that, he answered.

“It isn’t a proposal, more of a promise. That you’ll wear this forever.” You looked into his eyes, and you felt it. You felt all the love in the world wash over you. You felt every ounce of love anyone could feel for anyone rush all over your body. Just a small touch from him could make you feel this way, just being in the presence of him. His stupid jokes, getting coffee at the gas station at midnight, wearing his shirt. Everything. Everything about him just made you feel in love. The fact that he keeps a photo of you in his guitar case, the old sweatshirt of his you kept ever since your first date, the way he calls you his best friend. You knew he was the one. You knew that he was the one for you. Even though you didn’t life the perfect lifestyle, even though it was hard sometimes, you knew that there would be nothing that could ever come between you. 

“Yes.” You whispered. And you knew it. 

You’re in love. 

author’s note// idk how this is related to the song but it went somewhere i liked a lot so i went with it !!! i really like this one i hope you guys do too!!


Basics, Part Two 

Castiel x Reader

Words: 2,053


Another week passed by seamlessly. You had bought Castiel a speaker and iPod, teaching him how to use it. Proudly he played the music you downloaded for him; he especially loved ‘Making Love Out Of Nothing At All’ from the car ride days ago. You had to admit, the song left your heart tingling.
“Now just turn the dial” you guided Castiel’s hand on the dryer, and proudly beamed at him once he finished.
“It was simple” Cas said, smiling back at you. He picked up the empty basket and placed it on the washing machine. You continued cleaning up the room, and folding the laundry you had taken out to allow him to clean his own.
He watched you carefully fold each one, taking extra care with the brothers FBI suits. Cas couldn’t help but smile when you began humming to yourself, seemingly forgetting he was there.
“I’m going to go find Dean” Cas’s voice broke through the silence.
“What?” you stood up, hands on your hips. “Oh, alright”.
Castiel forced his feet to move, and he awkwardly shoved his hands in the pockets of the new sweat-shirt you bought him. A dark blue with red strings hanging from the hood. He still couldn’t understand what their purpose was. But he loved the sweat-shirt. At first you bought it, and forgot to give it to him since he was making a food run with Sam. So you stuffed it into your drawer, and now it smelled like you.
Sometimes he wanted to figure out what you smelled like; Dean said that girls always smell amazing. But he couldn’t figure it out. As an angel he had been around flowers that have ceased to exist. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to remember anything from his angelic past that remind him of you. But nothing came to mind, it was as if you were a brand new being, something his father made on a whim. No algorithms could possibly solve what you were, even your soul was more beautiful than any other humans was. He remembered what it looked like when he first met you. A faint blue, with a few small gashes. He guessed they were from the damage hunting does to someone psychologically, but eventually they got deeper and wider, and he had to bite back his tongue from saying anything. Dean and Sam’s souls were even worse, practically littered in marks and gashes.
“Hey buddy, what’s up?” Dean’s voice drew him out of his thoughts and he nodded, taking a seat.
“Could I ask you something?” Cas leaned awkwardly in his seat.
“Shoot” Dean poured himself another glass of whiskey, and Cas watched the liquid fill the glass with a certain deadly grace.
“I know you have been with copious amounts of women” Cas started and Dean choked on his drink, raising a brow at the former angel.
“Your point?”
“Well have you ever felt differently about one of them?” Cas asked.
“What’s this about?” Dean asked, leaning forward and staring at Castiel. Footsteps echoed in the library and Castiel moved his eyes to follow your figure walk through the room. Dean sighed and smirked.
“Ah” he pointed, “Got it”.
Castiel began biting at his lip, “I don’t k-“
“Just tell her” Dean said, “Y/N is great, you guys would be great together” Dean smiled at the thought.
“How do I know if she returns these feelings?” Cas asked, a certain hope in his eyes.
“You don’t. That’s why you tell her first” Dean said and took another swig of his drink. Castiel nodded and began walking up the metal stairs, wanting to breath the night air.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” you shouted accusingly at Dean. “He’s gone?! Just like that?” you screamed, gripping the glass in your fingers tighter.
“We’ll find him, calm down first!” Dean shouted back, grabbing the keys to the Impala. Angrily you sat in the backseat, praying to any deity out there for Castiel’s safety.
The Impala rode hard against the pouring rain, and Dean turned on the radio where you and Castiel left off the day before. Playing that same old tune.
‘I can make all your demons be gone’ it played, and you pressed your head against the window, shutting your eyes tight.
‘but i’m never gonna make it without you, do you really wanna see me crawl?and I’m never gonna make it like you do, making love out of nothing all’.
The words washed over you like a security blanket, as if Castiel was still sitting in the seat next to you.
The search was a bust, and after shouting at Dean and Sam for ages, you retired to your bedroom for another sleepless night. It wasn’t until nearly a month later when a strong knock came at the bunkers door at nearly three in the morning.
You grabbed the gun from under your pillow, carefully stalking towards the war room. The knocking sounded again and you blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness before flicking the light switch on.
Your heart began thumping in your chest as you placed your hand on the handle, suddenly regretting not waking Sam or Dean up.
You opened the door a crack and heard thunder rumble in the distance. Rain poured down heavily and looking carefully you saw a soaked through blue sweatshirt, and beautiful blue eyes to match it. You exhaled, and let the soaking wet man into the bunker.
“Damn you” you whispered, and he smiled, shaking his hair out on the floor like a puppy. “How are you back?” you asked, looking at him. You felt a buzz in the air, practically hearing it.
“You’re an-“
“Angel. This grace is not mine, I do not know how much longer it will hold me” he said while following you towards the hallway.
“We’ll figure it out in the morning alright? Just get some rest” you opened the door to his room, and everything lay like he left it. You placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it. This time though, he felt it like he did when he was human. Touch still meant just as much.
“Y/N, I have to tell you-“
“Tomorrow, Castiel. Get some rest” you smiled and shut his door behind you, making your way back under the covers.
Castiel buried himself under the sheets, a human habit he realized was absolutely pointless now. You must have forgotten he no longer needs to sleep. Still he lay in the bed, on the same sheets he accidentally dyed green in the wash when he didn’t separate his colors. He balled the material in his fist, realizing then that you made him human. Not the loss of grace, nor the habits - it was all you.
It was when he swung the bunkers door open in his dirty jacket, and your eyes melted over his. It was when your hair fell so beautifully over your shoulders that he realized he should pay more attention to it.
It was when you teased him about staring at the sun for too long, and then he thought he shouldn’t stare at you for too long either because you were brighter than it.
It was when you linked your warm fingers with his, oh so humanly alive, and left the bar laughing.
It was when you picked out a lamp for him, that you later told him matched his eyes.
It was when he listened to that song with you, every word registering so perfectly in his head to connect back to you. That whole song was about you. So quietly, he got up and turned the iPod on. It had 34% battery left, and he smiled softly at it, pressing play.
‘And I’m never gonna tell you everything I’ve got to tell you, but I know I’ve got to give it a try” played over the entire room, giving Castiel that sigh of relief he was waiting for.
Morning came and Castiel practically jumped out of bed, eagerly knocking at your door like a child.
“Son of a bitch” Dean muttered, walking up to Cas and hugging him. “When’d you get back?”
“Last night, Y/N opened the door. I was going to say hello, but you saw me first” Castiel said.
“Sammy!” Dean shouted, banging loudly at his brothers door. Cas furrowed his brows, but then saw Sam’s relieved face, and hugged the moose right back.
“Yeah?” you swung the door open, and Castiel dropped his eyes to your pajamas, and old white t-shirt of his. He cleared his throat and you looked past him and Dean and Sam.
“Look who’s back!” you exclaimed and both brothers exhaled a laugh. “I’ll be right out to make breakfast, hope you still like waffles, Cas” you said.
“I don’t eat any-“ but he door swung shut, and Cas stood there, staring at the old wood.
Eventually he joined the brothers in the kitchen, telling them everything that had happened.
“So how much longer will this grace last?” Sam asked, putting his apple down. Castiel shrugged and Dean sighed.
“We’ll figure it out” he reassured and Cas nodded.
Days passed by, eventually the rise and setting of the sun happened so often that Castiel realized two weeks had flown by. He sat right outside the bunker, on the cement steps. This time being careful of staring at the sun. He thought about the consequences of telling you how he felt. Long after you died, he’d still be walking the earth, eternally grieving. He thought about how you’d react, most importantly how you wouldn’t. Whether you’d purse your lips, or smile in return was the difference between heartbreak and pure happiness for him.
Then Dean’s voice penetrated his mind, telling him to just tell you.
“Hey” you greeted behind him, ripping him from his thoughts.
“Hello” Castiel said, and you sat in the same place you did nearly two months ago.
“It’s beautiful out” you mentioned, placing your bare toes in the grass still soaked from dew of the morning.
“Yes, the sky is clear” he said and you smiled, watching his eyes jump from different areas of the sky to the next.
“What did you have to tell me?”
“What?” Cas asked, looking down at your figure beside him.
“I completely forgot” you brought your knees up to your chest, “When you came back, you tried telling me something that night but I was so hung up on you resting that I forgot to ask what you wanted to say” you rambled for a moment, and Castiel exhaled.
“What? What is it?” you asked again, looking at his face. His eyes changed instantly, almost like a fear. “Did something happen while you were gone?”
“No” he suddenly smiled, “It was a little before that” he said.
“I don’t understand” you furrowed your brows.
“Y/N. While I was human, it was you who taught me how to be human. How to laugh, cry, smile, and sigh. And while I was without grace, the feelings that I suppressed as an angel, had the ability to surface. I realized that I may hold feelings for you more intense than friendship. If I’m expressing this correctly, I have fallen in love with you as a human, and still do love you” he said and your lips fell apart. You made an inaudible sound before turning to face him completely.
The sun shone so brightly behind him, the rays struck your eyes painfully. You could see his eyes, waiting for an answer, for a motion, - for anything. So you gave him that. Gingerly you placed a hand on the back of his neck, moving him close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips. You felt him stiffen, and bit back a smile before pressing your lips to his.
All the words you wanted to say disappeared into this, into his lips, tongue, and teeth.
“I may have too” you said, wondering if that was even proper english, but too ecstatic to care.
Castiel wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight against his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder and continued to watch the birds fly through the sky. And everything was alright, everything finally made sense.

Sometimes we need to remember why we love God, and let that realization wash over us all over again. God is romancing us, and sometimes we forget that, so we lose touch of the great Love of our lives. Let His love restore you, because you’ve been trying to swim on your own, and Christ has called you to walk on the waters. Remember why you chose to follow Him, and when you do, let that truth set you on fire.
—  T.B. LaBerge // Go Now