so this was in my drafts for a long time

Everyone Loves TS4 Faye

furiouslydecaffinated replied to your post“One Long Tour Ends and Other News”

Rum does go with everything 👍

Hahaha, you guys have obviously never been drunk on what we cal ‘tuzemak’ aka rum made in Czech Republic/Slovakia. It tastes like shit and makes your head explode when you wake up in the morning. I can’t even drink good, Cuban rum since that happened. No more run for me. Ever. :D 

furiouslydecaffinated replied to your photoset“˜Look, mate. I have been a vampire since forever in all my versions…”

The ts4 vamp adventures are funny

I’m glad you think so! I just finished the first draft for Season 3 of Hunt and even I hate myself for what happens there so I needed to stick to writing something happy for a while before the initial shock of my own evil settles down. :D 

something-wicked-sims replied to your photoset“Once upon a time, after a long month of self-control and listening to…”


Hahaha, no, definitely no. I think Faye looks so much better in TS3. Plus, I need wolf forms for Fable and Caleb, which can’t be done in TS4 at the time. But, like the famous Marvel tagline says: It’s all connected. All I’m writing is taking place inside one big universe and most of the major players either know each other, or will get to know each other at one point. Fyfe’s mother, the Faery Queen, is a major villain in The Hunt Season 2 and Fallon MacBrooke, the mysterious druid, will be a major player in both stories in the end. And now I stop talking before I spoil something that cannot be unspoiled. :D 

tabbyrh replied to your photoset“She walked. She walked for hours, with no point in sigh, stopping…”

Hahahaha! Omfg! Her insults!! I’m dead!!

Well, as long as she does not tell the most dangerous vampire in her hometown he smelt of elderberries she should be alright :D 

Originally posted by the-reactiongifs

tabbyrh replied to your photoset“I flew over to Oasis Spring at dawnthe next day. I spent most of the…”

She flew? On her witchy broom? Lol

Lol. Much less funny, I’m afraid. Commercial flight. Coach. Very uncomfortable. Good think it only takes 2 hours in my mind. :D 

tabbyrh replied to your photoset“Sorcha watched her bandmates celebrate their upcoming record deal from…”

She’s smooth!!

That she is! She is my absolutely favourite in Keyhole Estate. She is just the right amount of cocky, stubborn and good. Or, like wannabecatwriter and dinaswimmer said before: A jerk. :D

tabbyrh replied to your photoset“We were born to sin We were born to sin We don’t think we’re special…”

Noo!!!!! I need more!!!! Lol Awesome writing! I enjoy this ride very much!!

Hahaha. Thank you. I’m glad you like it! I can promise you more soon. I’m all about finishing the first part of the story before I start posting my TS3 story (and make eveyone hate me and love Faye equally :D). Prepare for witchy explosions, evil mothers and unexpected reveals. Or, you know, me giving you a bunch of cliff hangers. :D 

tabbyrh replied to your photoset“˜Look, mate. I have been a vampire since forever in all my versions…”

Bhahaha I think her dark form will be much better!! Can’t wait to see it!

Waaaaait for it… I have it queued for… tomorrow? Not sure. :D 

jepensedoncjesims replied to your photoset“Once upon a time, after a long month of self-control and listening to…”

gorgeous screens though. especially that first one. AND yay for a pissed off Faye

They are, aren’t they? It really does remind me of Midnight Hollow in some respects. A more colourful, warmer Midnight Hollow. But there are some great spots for screens, like that alley you liked in the first screen, or the view behind the statue. I also found a great altar thingie in the ‘forest’ behind one of the houses. I will put it in one of the posts too. As far as Faye goes, she just found out being a vampire is TS4 sucks. Every time she decides to go have a hotdog in the stand below her apartment she starts smoking and has to run back in. Miss the Day-walking vampires mod from TS3. :D

dinaswimmer replied to your photoset“˜Look, mate. I have been a vampire since forever in all my versions…”

Faye is fucking hilarious LMAO

Hahaha, glad you like her. She has no trouble - aside from turning into a vampire - in this save, so she can use her biting sense of humour to make up for the lack of actual story line :D 

i’m a nice person until you insult sam winchester

The Signs as Writers
  • ♈️ Aries: They’ve been writing since they were really young. They are always working on a project, or attempting some crazy challenge. They don’t shy away from trying out new genres or writing styles. Once they want to do something, there’s no way to stop them.
  • ♉️ Taurus: They may appear to have a controlled exterior, but all of that changes the instant you ask them about their characters. They write the most lovable & sweet characters, and they also happen to be their own #1 biggest fan— so beware talking smack about their babies.
  • ♊️ Gemini: They’re always juggling several projects at the same time. They write fiction and enjoy it, but they do much more. They can be spotted writing the comic-book version of one of their previous works, or typing up a movie script. Prolific doesn’t even begin to describe them.
  • ♋️ Cancer: Their storytelling is spontaneous, almost volatile, and that is what makes their books so fun to read. There’s no telling where their stories will go or what will happen next. For them, what matters most is not the journey— but the adventure!
  • ♌️ Leo: They know their characters better than anyone else. Sometimes they may spend more time writing backstories (and doing world-building) than actually writing the book, but at the end it’s all worth it. That’s why their characters feel like real people.
  • ♍️ Virgo: Their two best friends are subtlety and foreshadowing. They love leaving clues in the background, hints of what will be happening later in the story. They live for astute readers and, if you pay attention, you will realize there is more going on than you could’ve ever expected.
  • ♎️ Libra: Some writers are afraid of having multiple points of view, not them. They have tons of POVs, and they all get their chance under the spotlight. Sometimes their antagonists get the most character development, and that’s why they don’t feel like “villains.”
  • ♏️ Scorpio: They use everything in their power to strike the reader right in the *feels*. They’re the masters of cliffhangers and plot-twists. It's not about playing dirty, it’s about getting a reaction out of you. Character deaths should be expected, though they will still surprise you every damn time.
  • ♐️ Sagittarius: They don’t simply just *write* a book, they immerse themselves in the process. They’re dedicated researchers, and are known to go as far as changing their entire surroundings to match the ‘feel’ of the story they’re currently working on.
  • ♑️ Capricorn: They don’t write one-shots. Everything (and yes they do mean *everything*) they write is part of a series or their overarching mega-macro-universe. Expect to see cameos, familiar faces, and recurring themes across all their books!
  • ♒️ Aquarius: With them, no idea is too strange or far-fetched. They can take anything and spin it into a story. Mixing genres, and making new ones along the way, is all par for the course. Best of all— is that their crazy story ideas always work.
  • ♓️ Pisces: Everything they write is magical. They can make the most mundane story feel bigger-than-life and, when it comes to creating breath-taking worlds & settings, there’s simply no better. Be careful, though, because if given the chance they *will* make you believe that magic is real.

Arranging the Music for “It’s Over, Isn’t It?”

I had the great pleasure of arranging and performing “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” for the episode Mr. Greg. This was my first time being involved at the early stages of a lyrical song! Since the song was focused on Pearl’s emotions–and I compose and perform all of Pearl’s piano parts–Rebecca and I collaborated to create an expressive instrumental track for Deedee Magno Hall to sing over. Rebecca first sent me her ukelele demo, and I drafted a piano accompaniment based on it, creating the main piano riff (measures 18-21 of the sheet music above). We passed my piano recording back and forth to solidify the musicality and tempo changes, so the song would breathe “naturally”.

After I recorded the piano part, we encountered a problem: the song was too long for the episode! To make it fit into our time constraints, we sped the piano recording up and had Deedee record Pearl’s vocals over it. She knocked it out of the park and gave a stunning performance!

But that led to another problem: the sped up piano arrangement now sounded way too aggressive. The song reached me again a few months later, for the composition/scoring phase of Mr. Greg. I decided to draft a new piano arrangement and re-recorded “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” along to Deedee’s vocals, with more restraint and space between chords to heighten Pearl’s loneliness. To give more pain and tension to the music, I gave the chords some darker colors and unresolved notes. I collaborated with Rebecca and storyboard artist Joe Johnston to decide what parts of the first arrangement to keep.

To represent Rose’s lingering presence, I added strings to the arrangement, performed beautifully by Jeff Ball. For those of you keeping score, this is Rose’s motivic instrument! I wrote them in 4-part string quartet style, so that this song could easily be performed by a string quartet, pianist, and vocalist.

Notes on the Sheet Music

Recently, Deedee and I performed “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” at San Diego Comic-Con! These are the sheets that I used on stage. It’s almost exactly what I played in the episode.

In measure 56, I didn’t feel like writing the entire arpeggio that I played (too many notes)–so where it says, “A MAJOR ARP”, you can just squeeze as many A major arpeggios in there as you feel like!

The two “D”s that I wrote are something that Deedee and I worked out for the performance, where I would follow her voice during the opening and ending, and she would follow my tempo throughout the rest. “D” for Deedee!

Hope you enjoyed Mr. Greg and this song! You can listen to the final arrangement in the episode here.

reading the signs

had this sitting around in my drafts for a while so! here!! thanks to @ushiiwakas​ for proofreading it so long ago.

Castiel Novak, 29. Sign Painter, Stanford University Facilities Management and Planning.

As one of the few tradesman employed by Stanford University, Castiel spends most of his time in his studio, deep below the feet of passing students. He has two assistants – another tradesman like himself and a student intern – but most of his time is spent on his own. When he gets a request from either the custodial staff or a faculty member for a new plate, he does a proof on his design software, emails it, and once he gets the go ahead he fabricates and prints it full scale with a laser printer. On any given day Castiel can be applying a detail, frosting windows, or installing actual signage. He wears the usual black quarter zip with red seal maintenance uniform that’s typical of people working the grounds at Stanford; he doesn’t delude himself into thinking anyone knows he’s responsible for making anything.

While not high art, Castiel’s work is indispensable. He’s painted all the signs around campus announcing the names of buildings, room numbers, where to find wheelchair ramps or a bathroom: pieces of himself. Everything he makes is practical, says exactly what needs to be said in only a glance. Signs like that really only need to be there when you want to see them; they fade into the background just as Castiel himself does. Silently, he takes great pride in his work, in making a few lives easier.

Ironically, the sign that decorates Castiel’s door is just a piece of laminated paper curling at the edges. In neat typeface it announces, “Stanford University Sign Shop.”

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dean doing soft and quiet things for cas

  • helping him fall asleep by holding him close and rubbing his back and lightly playing with his hair
  • forehead kisses in the morning as a greeting when he’s already up and awake and cas stumbles down the hall in search of coffee
  • building cas a place he can garden outside the bunker, researching things like seeds and soil and what will grow this time of year
  • picking out little trinkets and knick knacks for cas for no reason other than “i dunno, thought you might like it”
  • giving him a foot massage while they lounge on the couch watching a movie, cas’ feet in his lap
  • fixing his car whenever he hears any sort of mysterious clank or rattle, giving her a checkup at least once a month just to make sure everything’s good and she’s running safely
  • grabbing cas’ hand just briefly and lightly whenever they walk past each other, stroking his thumb slightly before letting go
  • dean saying i love you to cas with his every action, and cas knowing dean well enough to hear it



The first time was unplanned. He looked up at me from under that damn tree, his hair sticking up like always. I wanted to be the one making it look like such a fucking mess. I wanted to run my hands through that horrible messy hair of his and to kiss him, and for him to kiss me back.

I don’t know what made me break just then. Maybe it was the way that he bit his lip in slight confusion as I lingered for a moment longer than usual without insulting him. Maybe it was just because I simply could not hold back any longer after all these years. Either way, I broke. As he stood to confront me (probably expecting to be hexed), I took him by the shoulders and pulled him close. Before I could think or her could react, I kissed him. It almost seemed as if he was kissing me back for a moment, that all of my hoping and fantasizing could be brought to reality. Of course, nothing like that could ever happen to me. He quickly shoved me away, his face contorted with confusion and anger.

“What the fuck, Mal-”
His green eyes, his fucking beautiful bright green eyes, went blurry for a moment. He sat back down against the tree. As he refocused, he narrowed his eyes at me.

“What are you looking at, Potter?” I managed to snap at him bitterly, hoping that I didn’t look flustered.

“Sod off, Malfoy.” He spat back, turning back to his book.


The second time happened with intent. After I realized that I could hypothetically continue to snog Potter every time we were alone together, I decided to seize the opportunity before Christmas break ended and everyone got back.

This time, I stopped him in the corridor outside of the Gryffindor common room.

“What do y-”

My lips were already on his, taking all I could out of the moment in the split second before he could push me away again.


I briskly walked around the corner. He would not even remember seeing me this morning.

That night, I lay awake trying to recall every detail of the kiss, of Harry fucking Potter’s lips. I’m nearly positive that it was just my foolish desire screwing with my mind, but it felt almost like he relaxes, even if it was just for one second before I wiped his memory.

But no, that’s not possible.


By the fifth time, it was almost a habit to sweep him away in the corridors.


By the tenth time, it was simply second nature once I neared him.


By the twentieth time, it had become an addiction. In only three days, everybody would be back and it would be nearly impossible to get Harry alone ever again.


I had only one thought in my mind: “I am completely, hopelessly in love with Harry Potter, and I am completely, hopelessly fucked.”


I find myself drawing my mind the moment I see him leave the library. (He’s been spending quite a lot of time in there lately. I wonder what he’s up to.) He looks unusually determined, however. I’ll just walk by this time and pretend to be on my way to- I don’t know, it’s not like I expect him to interrogate me or anything.

“What are you up to, Malfoy?” Potter asks accusingly as if it’s against the rules to stroll the castle.

Or maybe he is planning to interrogate me.

“What’s it to you, Potter?” I reply, continuing to walk. He grabs my shoulder before I pass him.

“Maybe I don’t want to be snogged and obliviated every day.” He said, raising an eyebrow.


This could ruin me.

I don’t even want to think about how many years in Azkaban this will be, obliviating Harry Potter, kissing him, at least 25 times, without his consent.

But why does he look so damn amused? He probably can’t wait to see me behind bars.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter.” I growl, glaring at him. His hand is still on my shoulder. I don’t move.

He holds up a book, “Memory Games: Recognizing and Curing Minor Obliviation”.

“I think you do know what I’m talking about, Draco.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Potter. This could ruin me. Please, I’ll- I don’t know, just-”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

This takes me completely by surprise. Why wouldn’t he want me arrested, humiliated, ruined? After all, we’ve always been enemies of a sort.


Damn my nervous stutter.

“Well, I said I didn’t want to be snogged and obliviated, but I wouldn’t mind just knocking off the memory-wiping part.”

Is he saying that he wants to kiss me?

“So I wouldn’t mind if you kept it up, minus the obliviating part of course. How does that sound?”

I’m frozen. Harry wants to kiss me. He wants me to kiss him. I want to say something, but I’m just gaping like a bloody fool. His hand drifts down my shoulder and he takes my hand, lightly tugging me just a little bit forward. I’m so close I can feel his breath on my face. He closes the distance between us and suddenly I can move again. This time, it feels so much nicer. I have time to feel his lips on mine, to feel him softly kissing back. It’s not rushed and forceful like all of the other times. It’s slow and soft and filled with emotion. As he pulls apart from me, I gasp quietly. Of course since my emotions are such a fucking mess today, this causes me to blush and I’m sure I look like an idiot.

“It sounds wonderful.” I say, smiling uncontrollably.

“Wonderful.” He replies, leaning back into me.



Save The First Dance For Me

Who knew Kurt would find someone to slow-dance with so soon - and at his dad’s wedding no less? Klaine alternate meeting that sets off right after “Just The Way You Are”.

Had this in my drafts ever since the Klaine Valentine’s Challenge for “Just the Way You Are” but I never really finished it - I just couldn’t have that so I kinda polished it today. I’m not all that satisfied with it but it’s been sitting here unfinished for soooo long that I’m just gonna publish it now, hoping you’ll enjoy it anyway. :)

Read on AO3

Kurt has never been serenaded like this before but as embarrassed as he was in the beginning, he can’t help but smile brightly at his brother by the time the song comes to a close, and Finn looks right at him when he sings the last, “When I see your face…

He’s long gotten over his crush on his step brother (living together hadn’t been the appeal he thought it would have, and he refuses to crush on boys who keep their dirty socks lying around everywhere, anyway) but it feels great getting over the issues they’ve had with one another, too.

The girls take over with an upbeat dance song now, and Kurt grins at Mercedes when she throws him a wink. He looks around briefly, watching his dad and Carole retreat to their seats with linked hands, Finn trailing behind them, and even though more and more people are coming up to dance now, Kurt figures he should probably leave the dance floor - it’s not like he’s going to awkwardly dance all by himself.

Still smiling like an idiot, Kurt turns around to go back to join his family at the table, and almost crashes into someone who seems to have stood just behind him.

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” the guy says when Kurt lets out a little yelp, and holds out a hand to steady Kurt by the arm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

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Summary: Bucky says sorry

Word count: 484

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Angsty Bucky

A/N: Just a little drabble I had sitting in my drafts for a long time but was too anxious to post it. Also, sorry about my long absence, I had a few things going on but now I have holidays so there will be hopefully a lot of fics the next weeks :)

Originally posted by oreo-wonderbatch

You climbed the stairs to your apartment, returning from grocery shopping. Balancing the bags in one of your hands, your other fished around in your pockets, searching for your key.

After a while you finally found it and upon opening the door were greeted with a suffocating silence. With a sigh you closed your door behind you and placed your key on the cupboard next to you.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw your phone blink, indicating that you got a new voicemail. Without really thinking of it you pressed the button, letting you hear it out loud, while putting away the groceries.

‘Ummm hi, hey… I believe you know who it is.’ Upon hearing his voice you nearly dropped the can you were holding and turned to your phone laying on the counter, almost expecting him to stand there. Tears threatening to spill out of your eyes, you quickly made your way over to your phone, fingers hovering over the ‘delete’ button.

I beg you to at least hear me out and not delete this right away. ‘He knows me so well’, you thought with a bitter chuckle, but made your way back to the fridge, deciding to at least hear what he had to say next.

I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know I said that a lot in the past weeks but… Fuck, I miss you. I know I fucked up and I have no right to say this, but… please take me back. Everyone says I need to move on but I can’t. Hell, I don’t want to! I need you in my life; you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You could hear him sobbing quietly.

 ‘I haven’t slept more than 5 five hours straight because you’re not next to me when I wake up. I miss how you hugged me in the morning, grumbling unintelligible things, cause for you even 12 am is too early to wake up. I miss those days were we would just stay in bed all day, watching Netflix and eating cake. I miss your beautiful smile that was always the first thing I saw in the morning. I miss your beautiful laugh and how your dimples would show when you smile, even though you hate them. I adore them. Fuck I adore everything about you, every little detail.  

You’re probably rolling your eyes now because I’m rambling. I’m sorry.

I’ll be knocking on your door at 7. If you think there’s still a chance, then…’ He gulped, not finishing the sentence.

If not, then this is a goodbye. I love you, doll. I always will.’

By now tears were fully streaming down your face. You glanced at the clock and your breath hitched. The counter on your clock sprang to the 7, just in time for a hesitant knock to sound from your door.

@bovaria @captainpunk @mangosoldier @just-call-me-mrs-captain @computeringturtle @heismyhunter @crazychick010 @heytherepartner @curliesthood @mint-bunnies-and-tea

anonymous asked:

Imagine your OTP looking up at the stars. Person A is really enthusiastic, pointing out the constellations and person B just falls asleep to their voice (taken from the prompts blog I hope you don't mind 🙈)

“And that’s Cassiopeia,” he listens to her murmur, her voice low, so soft in the darkness of the car that he has to blink a few times to stop the drugging sensation of sleep from lapping at his consciousness.

“I still only know the Big Dipper,” he states, smirking at Beckett’s huff of exasperation from his side. They’ve been at this for nearly half an hour now, camped out in her dead cruiser in the middle of a New Jersey highway after being abducted by proverbial aliens, staring into the sky full of stars while they await Ryan and Esposito to come pick them up.

He never would have guessed Beckett to be such an astronomy nerd, to know the constellations like the back of her hand, to want to share them with him.

“Look,” she says, scooting in closer to him, her shoulder bumping his as she points her finger to the glass of the windshield, and he holds his breath to avoid inhaling the sweet scent of cherries. “See that ‘M’ shape?”

Castle sits forward, genuinely tries to follow the direction of her index finger towards the sky, to locate the constellation she speaks of, and - oh, oh he sees it.

“There?” He traces the ‘M’ with his finger along the glass and Kate nods, actual excitement radiating from her body, transferring like waves of pleasant energy into his.

“Yeah, and to the left is Cepheus,” she continues, curling her knees up onto the seat, just a breath away from folding atop his thigh. “You know the Greek mythology behind stars, don’t you, Castle?”

“Mm, no, actually,” he replies, sitting back, narrowly avoiding the spring beneath the leather that always pokes him in the ass, settled comfortably in the middle instead. Sharing space with Kate Beckett. “I always wanted to know more, but I just never got around to it.”

“You’re missing out,” Kate quips, her gaze still roaming the sky, the stars alight in her eyes, brighter there than they are up above in the blanket of inky darkness.

Mythology, tales of gods and monsters and unfathomable heroic feats, doesn’t seem like something she would be interested in, not when he knows her stance on magic and fate, but he doesn’t want to question her intrigue in the subject, doesn’t want to dissect and overanalyze it.

Doesn’t ever want that spark in her eyes, the rare look of celestial wonder, to disappear.

“Fill me in,” he suggests, casting his gaze to the sky once more, attempting to find the stories she speaks of in the slew of constellations they can hardly catch a glimpse of in the city without a telescope.

Beckett is silent for a long moment, but he waits, releases a shallow breath of surprise when she relaxes beside him, the caps of her knees brushing his outer thigh, their arms flirting as she gets comfortable. Prepared to tell him a story.

“Cassiopeia used to be a queen,” she begins and Rick rests his head back against the top of the seat, tries to stare at the sky instead of her. Despite how severely she rivals their heavenly view. “But her vanity had her exiled to the sky in punishment.”


Rick drifts in and out of sleep beside her, dozing through her soft spoken lecture in Greek mythology, but he blinks and straightens every so often, tries his best to stay awake. She doesn’t mind, though, caught up in the stories her dad used to tell her when they’d sit in front of her telescope throughout the nights when she was ten years old on her bedroom floor, sometimes in the city, usually at the cabin.

The myths never fazed her, but the older she grew, the more fascinating she found them. The idea of being turned into a star, sentenced to illuminating the night sky for centuries to come, trapped but burning so bright.

“Don’t stop talking,” Castle mumbles, his head a mere inch away from falling to her shoulder, and part of her craves the warmth of it, the way she had felt waking up with her head on his chest only an hour ago, that split second of fleeting but blissful unawareness before memories of a dark room and bright lights and bruised necks had rushed back in.

“Hmm?” she replies, realizing she has in fact gone quiet, lost to the train of her thoughts, her eyes drifting from the constellations overhead to skate along his face.

She still wonders what it would have been like in the summer, in the Hamptons, with him, if they could have been on the beach, under a sky glittering with stars like they are now. Wonders if she could have curled into his side, pointed out constellations to him until his fascination was fed and the trace of his fingers up and down her arm became too much, until she shifted to find the dark blues of his eyes gazing at her instead of the stars, claimed the crescent moon of his upturned mouth. Two stars colliding, exploding-

“Like listening to you talk, Beckett. Great storytelling voice,” he continues, snapping her out of the silly - and totally inappropriate, jeez, Kate - fantasy.

“Great for putting you to sleep,” she retorts, watching his eyes slit open, ascending to locate her angled above him.

“Getting kidnapped by the men in black took a lot out of me, not my fault your voice can soothe me to sleep,” he quips, the corner of his mouth curling with a grin. “But I can promise you, I caught almost the entirety of the story about Cassie up there.”

“Cassie?” she chuckles, following the nod of his head towards his recently learned constellation.

“I want to learn more. We should have weekly stargazing sessions,” he muses and she hates herself, her utterly stupid heart, for internally jumping at the idea. “I actually have access to the roof on my building, and Alexis’s telescope… it’d be fun.”

Kate chews on her bottom lip, glances to Castle’s and lifts her gaze to his eyes when she notices the subtle breath he sucks in, the ripple of his throat as he catches the slide of her gaze to his mouth.

“Unless, of course - I mean, I know Josh is-”

“Not in the picture,” she fills in quietly, watching the constellations in his eyes come together, forming galaxies that illuminate the shades of blue as he shifts beside her, straightens in his seat and angles his body towards her.


“Kinda sounds like the setup for date,” she hums, bearing witness to the explosion of those stars in his widened eyes, the supernova of colors shining bright and sprinkling stardust throughout his features, and she’s tempted to taste it on his parted lips.

‘It - yeah, it could be,” he murmurs, echoing the rise and fall of his gaze to her mouth and back again. “After this case? If the aliens don’t take us?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “Chances of the date are starting to dwindle.”

“Oh, I am so not getting abducted if it means missing a date with you,” he states, startling when a flash of light beams through the car, but it’s coming from their side. Headlights from Ryan and Espo’s cruiser.

“We’re going to find a completely logical, earthbound solution to this case, Castle.”

“And then we’re going to have a date under the stars,” he sighs, ridiculously wistful, but he grins at her, bright and true and making her heart leap, and she shakes her head, but… it sounded nice, kind of perfect, and she can’t wait.

The boys are emerging from their vehicle and Kate moves to join them on the road, but Castle catches her hand before they can exit the car, his thumb landing on the inside of her wrist, caressing the line of her pulse and momentarily stealing her oxygen, causing her lungs to stutter and seize.

“Thanks for showing me the stars, Beckett.”


all time low + inspirational lyrics from each album (with the help of @gabricl)

put up or shut up (2006) - the party scene
so wrong, it’s right (2007) - stay awake
nothing personal (2009) - therapy
dirty work (2011) - time-bomb
don’t panic! (2012) - so long, and thanks for all the booze
future hearts (2015) - missing you


Under the cut you’ll find 112 medium, textless, hq gifs of SANTIAGO SEGURA in SCREAM: THE TV SERIES. All of these gifs were made by me so please like and/or reblog this post if you are using them. As long as you don’t claim them as your own you can use them in any way, but if you add them to a crackship, turn them into gif icons or anything of the sort, please ask for my permission and give me credit. Part 2/?.

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