stay close to anything that makes you glad you are alive

things I love about Steve Trevor
  • He makes sure he actually thanks Diana for pulling him out of the water
  • The only time he ever expresses doubt to Diana about any of her beliefs is when he’s trying to convince her not to jeopardize the mission by killing Ludendorff, and even then it’s a hypothetical (“what if”)
    • He also does after she kills Ludendorff but that’s after her belief is shattered so I don’t really count it
  • He is so duty-bound I love him so much no wonder he and Diana got along so well
  • He just. Wants the people around him to be happy? The scene after they rescue Veld always kills me, and two parts in particular: 
    • When Charlie starts playing piano and singing and Steve says “I haven’t heard him sing in years…” and his face is all soft and you can see the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips but you can also see all the sadness in his eyes from those years of him not singing
    • And when he’s dancing with Diana and it starts to snow and she looks up and is so confused and delighted and he’s like “it’s snow… go on, touch it” and she does (also she has to let go of his hand to do it and he still encourages her to? such a small thing but oh man my heart) and he looks at her with such heart eyes
    • Honestly Chris Pine played him so well, so much complex emotion depicted even when he’s not speaking, like jfc well done
  • I love the boat scene, partly because it’s just fucking hilarious but mostly because their conversation is so respectful. She tells him she was sculpted from clay and brought to life by the breath of Zeus and his reaction is just to raise his eyebrows and say “Well, that’s neat.” 
    • I know that could read as sarcastic but it doesn’t to me at all. It’s funny, sure, but he isn’t making fun of her. It’s genuine and kind, even when what she’s saying is fairly unbelievable.
    • Just the entire way they speak in this scene… He never adopts that Mansplaining Tone™ that is so common, even when he’s actually explaining things. He talks because he wants to share information. It’s a cultural exchange, and I loved it.
  • After Veld, when they’re sitting and watching the villagers dance, he just quietly says, “You did this.” and she’s the one who smiles at him and says, “We did this.” He has so much respect for her and it kills me inside because it’s not “We did this” originally (which could be him pointing out that they’re a good team, him saying they have things in common, or a thousand other things), it’s just “You did this,” because he just wants her happy. He wants her to recognize how goddamn impressive she is. There is no agenda to what he said and it fucks me up
  • The entire scene with the kiss. Like, I’m gay as hell, usually I hate this kind of thing because it feels so unnecessary, but this was so well done I’m genuinely glad it was included
    • When he escorts her up to a room he then starts to leave. Even with all of that tension he doesn’t want to assume that she wants anything to happen. 
    • So he has his hand on the door and he starts to back out of the room and he hesitates just long enough for her to turn around and meet his gaze. And even then he’s reading that as a sign that she wants him in the room so he steps forward and closes the door behind her and then looks up again to confirm that’s what she wanted. And even after that, he crosses over to her so slowly and lets her be the one to actually initiate the kiss. 
    • He gives her a thousand and one chances to change her mind, to give him a small indication that she’s uncomfortable or doesn’t want it to happen, and it’s only once she lets all of those chances pass that they kiss. 
    • Consent-based relationships, man. Fuck me up.
  • Speaking of consent… the scene after Diana returns to Veld and sees the gas has killed everyone fucks me up
    • Steve’s followed her there and is clearly freaked the fuck out because she’s just gone and he physically can’t go in to try to find her because of the gas
    • So when she comes out he’s so visibly relieved and he goes forward and puts his hands around her face, clearly wanting to kiss her, and she shoves him away and says “stay away from me.” and he does.
    • He lets her be furious and devastated and overwhelmed because he knows what it’s like to feel powerless and I think he is genuinely sorry he contributed to her feeling this much pain. He lets her say she’s angry, he lets her blame him, he lets her grieve and doesn’t stop her when she leaves him there.
    • Not only does he not stop her, he sees the smoke from Chief’s fire and yells to her to follow it because he had followed Ludendorff. Their argument from the ballroom still isn’t resolved - she wants to just kill him and be done with it, Steve wants that to wait so they can focus on stopping the gas - but he recognizes that this is her choice and even after she’s basically just blamed an entire village’s deaths on him (and on herself) he tries to help her carry it out.
  • So after Diana’s killed Ludendorff and the war is still going on and Steve runs up to find her, he’s so visibly relieved that she’s alive and (like after Veld) goes to kiss her but backs away without her doing anything because he realizes the “stay away from me” thing has never been explicitly lifted. She might still want nothing to do with him and he respects that.
    • He does touch her a couple times after this but it’s always brief, I think it continues only because she didn’t react negatively the first time, and like they’re in the middle of a fucking war and I think Steve’s about 900% convinced that they’re all going to die so I’m gonna cut him a little slack here.
  • They have that “argument” again, where Diana says “this should have stopped, I killed him, why is this still going on” and instead of saying I told you so Steve just tries to get her to move on and help him save other people.
    • When he says “maybe it’s us! maybe we’re to blame!” (meaning not Ares) and she says that (obviously) she isn’t to blame, he doesn’t hesitate, he just says “but maybe I am.” He’s willing to put that on himself. Also, the qualifier through this scene - but maybe it’s us - is so important to me, because he’s still not saying “you’re wrong.” it’s a maybe.
    • When she refuses to go with him he’s clearly frustrated (again I’m giving him a pass here because he’s frustrated because he knows he won’t be able to save as many people without her) but he still doesn’t try to force her to go with him. He doesn’t guilt-trip her, doesn’t yell at her for not helping. He just gives that desperate shrug and says “I have to go. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
    • And when Charlie and Sam and Chief show up and ask where Diana is, all he says is “we’re on our own.” Not “she wouldn’t fucking help us” - which frankly is probably what I would have said in this situation - just that statement and nothing more.
  • In their final scene, when she’s hurt and dazed and temporarily hard of hearing, he breaks his “no touching” rule, but he breaks it because he’s helping her stand up and then because, well… even if she doesn’t, he knows he’s never going to see her again. 
    • It’s also super important to me that he doesn’t try to kiss her in this scene, because god knows he must have wanted to. He sees that she is in no shape to consent to anything like that and he doesn’t even come close to pushing it.
    • I’m not even gonna get into the “I can save today” part because I’m still too emotionally fraught
    • He says is “I wish we had more time.” before he tells her he loves her and literally runs to his death. That’s it. Nothing that could possibly make her feel guilty, nothing that could have seemed like he regretted anything. Not “I wish we hadn’t gone to the front.” Just “I wish we had more time.”
    • And he then, metaphorically and literally, gives her more time. Because he knows his clock has run out, but that doesn’t mean hers has to… So he runs and saves today and gives her his watch. Gives her time.
  • Anyway I’m seventeen thousand levels of fucked up from this movie, please feel free to add because Steve is amazing and a genuinely good, complex, respectful male character like this should be celebrated
Touch Starved

Cas doesn’t know when he started to crave human contact.  He supposes it’s a side effect of inhabiting his vessel for so long, but it’s inconvenient to say the least.  

He remembers hugging Dean when he came back from the dead, wrapping himself around his warm body without a second thought. How easy things had been then, when all of his thoughts were occupied with Dean being alive and what a miracle that was.  He didn’t have to worry about overstepping his bounds, doing something he’d regret.

He remembers Dean cupping his face, stroking it even, holding his hand after a near-fatal (or fatal) injury as he looked into his eyes, making sure he was alright.  

Even then, in the context of whatever brush with death he was recovering from, Cas couldn’t think about anything but melting into Dean’s hands, staying that way forever and ever. But of course, he couldn’t.  That would be inappropriate, a man touching a male vessel for such a sustained period of time, and if Dean touched him for too long he might give into temptation. Overstep his bounds.  Do something he’d regret.

Cas lives a sleepless life, but as he wanders the bunker at night he can’t help but envision what it would be like to lay down in bed next to Dean, to hold him in his arms or have him hold Cas, to feel his warm breath and the thud of his heartbeat. 

 Dean had been so warm when he touched Cas.  So gentle, and so very human.

He tells himself it’s only fantasy, so it doesn’t count.  Just as long as he never let’s it show, what he truly wants, and how badly he wants it:  he craves contact, Dean’s contact, his affection, his warmth.  He wants to know Dean loves him back, for him to show it with his actions if not with his words.  

But he doesn’t dare say it.  He just dreams.

Over a year ticks by like this, when Dean comes home from a hunt, badly injured.  He has a blood-red welt on his forehead, and a deep scratch through the fabric of his shirt. 

 Cas, ever concerned, steps forward.  “Here,” he offers, holding out his hand.  “Let me.”

Dean gives the obligatory, feeble protest, but doesn’t move away as Cas presses his hand to his shoulder, where his handprint had been all those years ago.  

The injuries slowly fade from Dean’s body, and Cas, satisfied that his patient is now well, begins to retract his hand.

It’s barely perceptible, the way Dean leans towards the contact, following it.  Chasing it.  

Cas notices anyway, and his brow furrows.  He’s been told he lacks empathy, but Cas recognizes the gesture, the longing that was behind it.  It just doesn’t seem possible that Dean could crave what Cas does.

Still, tentatively, experimentally, places his hand back on Dean’s shoulder.  

“What’re you doin’?”  Dean inquires, voice a tired grumble.  “I’m all healed up.  I’m fine now.”

Still, he doesn’t move away.

“I am…checking for further injuries,” he informs him, and immediately feels guilty for lying.  Still, he needs to know if Dean wants this too, whether even some small part of him might crave this.  He allows his hands to move gently over Dean’s shoulders, tentatively as though he might break.

Dean makes a soft grunt that tells Cas he doesn’t quite believe his alibi, but still, he doesn’t move away. He leans closer, into Castiel’s touch.

Cas continues, in somewhat awed silence, his hands stroking down Dean’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back, radiating warmth beneath his thick flannel shirt.  Cas wishes he wasn’t wearing it, and not even for sexual reasons:  he just wants to feel Dean’s skin beneath his own, wants the intimacy of being together without the restrictions of clothes.

He allows his fingertips to brush, feather-light, over the bare skin of Dean’s neck, still damp with sweat from the exertion of their hunt.  Dean doesn’t tense, or do anything, really:  he just sits there, perfectly still.  Cas can’t read his facial expression, but he somehow feels he’s doing something forbidden.  

At that moment, Sam walks in, saying something innocuous about the hunt and not noticing whatever it is they’re doing.  

Dean stands up abruptly, practically knocking over a chair as he does so.  Cas watches him curiously as he awkwardly greets him, clearly somewhat embarrassed, despite the fact Sam wasn’t aware of the exchange that had just transpired.  

Sam looks suspiciously from Dean, then to Cas, then goes about his business like he doesn’t want to know.

It isn’t until months later that Cas finally gets what he wants, though he’s not coherent enough to fully appreciate it.  

He’s been stabbed through the gut with an angel blade, grace seriously depleted and nearly delirious.  

It’s an unfortunately close re-enactment of the last time Cas was taken from them, and Dean knows it as he lugs Cas into bunker, draped over his shoulder like a rag doll.  

He’s barely conscious as Dean lays him on the sofa, pealing back his blood-soaked shirt to reveal the wound, the blue light of his Grace illuminating from within.  

He yells something at Sam, who minutely brings them a bowl of hot water and a cloth, which Dean then uses to clean it.  If Cas were more coherent, he’d tell Dean that was useless, that he would be healed by his grace or not at all;  mending a vessel when his true form was damaged was like trying to repair a flesh wound by patching up clothing.

But Dean is touching him gently, cleaning his wound and muttering to him soft, soothing nothings that he can’t quite make out.

He’s looking at him with an emotion somewhere between desperation and…Cas refuses to let himself think ‘love’, not wanting to feed into his own false hope, but it’s something very close to it.

In spite of himself, he smiles, allowing Dean to take care of him as his eyes flutter shut one last time.

…  

When Cas comes to, he’s shirtless and carefully bandaged, though he doesn’t need it anymore;  his Grace heeled the wound over night.  Now, not even a scar remains.

He doesn’t have much time to pontificate on this, however, because Dean is beside him, asleep on the sofa, one arm draped over Castiel’s bare midsection and the other wrapped around a pillow, snoring softly.  

Cas watches him, too awed to say anything, for the better part of a half hour.  Not even Dean drooling on his pillow is enough to detract from the wonder of him being here.  The fact that he has, apparently, stayed with him throughout the night, his body pressed against his own.

And here Cas had been losing faith in miracles.  

After a while, Dean’s eyes flitter open, and he awakens with a startled snort as he realizes Cas is staring at him.  

Cas is about to apologize for staring, again, when Dean has expressed his desire for him not to, but Dean is only sitting up on his elbow, grinning stupidly at him and rubbing the drool off his chin.  

“Cas,” he half-chuckles, voice breathy and slightly awed.  “You’re alive.”

Cas nods sagely, grunting as he sits back on his pillow.  “I believe so, yes.”

“That’s…”  Dean trails off, laughing breathlessly.  “That’s awesome, man.  We didn’t think you were gonna make it for a while.  If you were human, that blow would’ve been-”  He trails off.  “I’m glad you’re here, man.”

Cas is barely listening at this point, still staring at Dean in quiet awe.

“You…stayed with me,”  he murmurs, Dean blinks, looking slightly taken aback by the statement:  it’s almost a question, the way Cas phrases it; the inquiry of why is evident in his voice.

“Of course I did, man.  We care about you,” he says, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I care about you.”

Cas stares at him, expression unreadable.  Slowly, he nods.

They’re still lying there, on the sofa, bodies pressed close.  Dean is so warm, so soft and pliable against him, radiating the heat Castiel has craved for so long.

Cas wets his lips.  “Can we stay like this, just a little while?”  he asks, voice barely a whisper.  He doesn’t want to make Dean feel uncomfortable, but he wants this closeness so badly.  He never wants it to stop.

There’s a brief pause.  Dean swallows before he answers, “Sure, Cas.  Whatever you need, buddy.”

Cas smiles, tentatively resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.  He closes his eyes, not missing the way Dean leans into his touch, the contented sigh he breathes through his nose.  

And Cas knows, in that moment, that Dean’s wanted this too.  Maybe as much as Cas has, if that’s possible.

It only feels natural when Dean leans in for a kiss.  

Bright And Warm

(Gif source: x)

Characters - Dean x Reader
Summary - Dean never was one for relationships. He always messed it all up one way or another, but just this once, he hopes he can do something right.
Word Count - 1,296
Warnings - Language, a handsy asshole, allusion to previous physical abuse
A/N - Part of @whispersandwhiskerburn’s 2k Follower Celebration. Prompt: “Must Be Doing Something Right” Billy Currington + “Yes. Anything, just… yes…” I slightly modified the dialogue prompt since I thought it worked a little better the way I used it. This is different than my other stuff, so let me know what you think!!


Dean never was one for relationships. Sooner or later the shit hit the fan, and he was left with what was left of his heart shattered whenever it fell to bits. It happened with Cassie, and it happened with Lisa. It happened every time he let himself believe that he could manage to not fuck up something good in his life. Someone good in his life.

Then he met you.

Keep reading

A DARKER SHADE OF MAGIC / A GATHERING OF SHADOWS by v. e. schwab sentence meme.

  • ❛  I’d rather die on an adventure than live standing still.  ❜
  • ❛  After all, you can kill people, but you cannot kill magic. Not truly.  ❜
  • ❛  Impossible. What a useless word, in a world with magic.  ❜
  • ❛  Everyone thinks I have a death wish, you know? But I don’t want to die – dying is easy. No, I want to live, but getting close to death is the only way to feel alive. And once you do, it makes you realize that everything you were actually doing before wasn’t actually living. It was just making do. Call me crazy, but I think we do the best living when the stakes are high.  ❜
  • ❛  You have two faces. One you wear for the world at large, and the one you wear for those you love.  ❜
  • ❛  Everyone’s immortal until they’re not.  ❜
  • ❛  It is as it is. It cannot be undone. So please, be grateful, and be done with it.  ❜
  • ❛  The thing about freedom? It doesn’t come naturally. Almost no one has it handed to them. I’m free because I fought for it.  ❜
  • ❛  I know you can do this. I know you can hear me. Stay with me. Listen to my voice.  ❜
  • ❛  Maybe you just got a taste of what it really means to be alive. You almost died. So now you know what it feels like to live. To fear for that life. To fight for it. And once you know, well, there’s no going back.  ❜
  • ❛  You made a mistake. Everybody makes them. Even me. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you made one.  ❜
  • ❛  I did only what I had to do. If I could have given my life for yours, I would have.  ❜
  • ❛  A kiss for luck. Not that I need it.  ❜
  • ❛  I know. I know what and who you are. What will you do? Kill me?  ❜
  • ❛  Why am I the only one in this fucking world to be held accountable for my actions?  ❜
  • ❛  Aren’t you afraid of dying?  ❜
  • ❛  I’m sorry. For whatever happened to you. For whoever hurt you so deeply that you see things like friends and fondness as weapons instead of shields.  ❜
  • ❛  You know so little of war. Battles may be fought from the outside in, but wars are won from the inside out.  ❜
  • ❛  Between the two of us, we’ll tear the whole world down.  ❜
  • ❛  I am going to cut that smile off your face.  ❜
  • ❛  It hurts. More than dying ever did. There are days when I feel like I deserve this.  ❜
  • ❛  Death doesn’t scare me. Not nearly as much as the idea of wasting a perfectly good life in fear of it.  ❜
  • ❛ You’re always so eager to slash and stab, why couldn’t you have stabbed him.  ❜
  • ❛  Which is it, huh? You’re angry at me, or worried about me, or happy to see me? Because I can’t keep up.  ❜
  • ❛  Wouldn’t it be amazing, if we got away with it?  ❜

Keep reading

Didn’t Expect It

Jason didn’t expect it really. In fact, he didn’t expect it at all.

It had been a tough night. A drug bust that escalated quickly, and before he knew it Birdie had shown up to save the day, and while Jason would never admit it out loud, he wasn’t entirely pissed about the rescue.

Not since it gave him a chance to see the youngest of them again.

He didn’t expect it really, the feeling. The unfamiliar joy to see his littlest brother, jumping here and there, weaving in between the enemies and taking down one man after another like it was a ballet performance. The strange smile that unfurled behind his mask as he stumbled to his feet, clutching the wound staining his shoulder and watched the little boy roundhouse kick Mr. Boss in the face, sending the man flying into the wall with a deafening crunch. The indescribable pride as the kid straightened himself, hands on his hips, and smirked.

He didn’t expect the warm sensation when Damian practically jerked himself towards the criminal that aimed his gun on Jason because his little brother was protecting him.

The Boss Man stumbled back on his feet and trained his two pistols on the 12-year-old standing in front of him, and Jason attempted to move towards Damian, because he already died once, don’t you dare lay a finger on him you bastard-

“Put the gun down.” Came his small voice, ever so tiny. Too tiny. “And I’ll give you a 5-minute head start.”

The man stared for a moment.

“4 minutes.” Damian scowled.

And Boss ran.

Jason didn’t expect the fear that lurched inside him when Damian’s shoulders slumped and he grabbed his stomach. He didn’t know what to do when his littlest brother turned on him, anger flaming in his bright green eyes, and felt guilty.

But it was okay, because at least those green eyes were alive.

And so Jason leaned back against the wall and slid until his body collapsed on the floor. The throbbing in his foot wasn’t so bad now, and his shoulder wasn’t as painful as it had been a moment ago. He looked back at Damian, preparing himself for the tiny storm before him.

“How dare you, Todd.” He hissed venomously, eyes narrowed almost threateningly, and he stomped towards him, hands in fists. “Drake ordered you to wait for me.”

“I don’t take orders from Timmyboy, Demon Spawn.” The insult-turned-nickname rolled off his lips so easily he didn’t have time to stop it.

“Foolish!” Damian seethed as he marched towards him. “It was foolish! Idiotic! Stupid! You could have died!”

“Been there, done that. Hell couldn’t handle this.”

The little boy stopped at this and his eyes widened a tad, and Jason realized what he’d said. It was so easy, almost a habit nowadays, to make jokes about his own death. At first, it was to pour the blame on Bruce, to make him feel guilty, terrible, make him apologize because he deserved those terrible feelings, but now it was just humor for him. It was something he did.

Jason had been back from the dead for years now.

Damian had been back, what, a few months?

“B-besides,” Jason tried to amend his witless mistake. “Why would you care?”

“Foolish Todd.” The little boy whispered, so different to his tone a second earlier. So small.

And he didn’t expect Damian to stumble towards him, but he didn’t refuse the tiny arms that were reaching towards him. He didn’t mind for the moment that his blood was getting all over the kid’s suit or that it was probably in his hair too because Jason was holding him. He was holding his little brother’s tiny, adorable, alive body in his arms and he wasn’t going to argue.

“Foolish, idiotic, stupid, brave Todd.” Damian croaked, burying his head into the crook of Jason’s neck. “You were supposed to wait.” He repeated, but sounded so unsure this time, the childish confidence disappeared. “You could have been killed.”

“Damian, I’m okay,” Jason whispered, completely bewildered by his brother’s behavior. They had never been chummy. They respected each other, maybe even liked each other a minuscule amount, but Jason was no Dick Grayson. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.” The boy pressed, curling even tighter into his arms and Jason couldn’t help but feel how freaking small he was.

So small, so precious.

“It is because,” he swallowed against his neck and Jason felt something wet hit his skin, but he dared not expect it to be tears. “Because Jason,”

He squeezed the boy tighter, “Dami…”

“You’re the only brother who knows what it’s like to die…” he whispered sadly. “I-I want you to know that-that I’m very glad you aren’t dead anymore.”

Jason’s eyes widened until they were saucers, and his jaw dropped, but his grip tightened. It tightened with new resolve, with new purpose, with new revelations at his smallest brother’s confession.

Damian held on for a little longer, but Jason wasn’t complaining.

Jason didn’t expect the gentle, loving smile that slid onto his lips as he rested his chin on the 12-year-old’s hair.  The protectiveness that gripped him in a vice, a chain wrapped around his heart. A new hole in his heart that was perfectly Damian shaped, and it was strongly defended.

He didn’t expect himself to tilt his chin to kiss Damian’s forehead, and Jason didn’t expect the smile that he felt against his neck.

“I’m glad you’re back too, Bud.”

They stayed that way for a while, clinging to each other until Tim and Bruce arrived.

Jason didn’t expect for him to hold onto his small brother the way he did. He didn’t know exactly why he wanted to come back to the Cave, to make sure that the knife wound was just a knife wound. He was surprised with himself, as was Bruce, when he decided to stay the night, to make sure the kid doesn’t steal my stuff. He didn’t expect to go to Damian’s room before he went to bed himself, wounds freshly cleaned and bandaged. He didn’t expect for the little boy to be asleep soundly, a peaceful expression that barely graced his face now adorning his cheeks.

He didn’t expect the emotion. The pride, the protectiveness. The love.

He leaned down and kissed Damian’s forehead silently, pushing back some of his hair before turning.

He didn’t expect his tiny, sleep filled voice to emerge, “Goodnight, Todd.”

Jason grinned, turning to close the door. “Night, Tater-Tot.”

The smile that was plastered on his face as he fell under the wings of sleep was anything but forced.

He didn’t expect it.

He didn’t mind either.

Birthday Boy - Draco x Reader


Hey guys! In celebration of our favorite boy’s birthday on the 5th, I decided to write a birthday imagine!! It’s a bit long, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what ya think! Thank you!!!!

Warnings - None that I am aware of!!! 



“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE!” Y/N yelled as she jumped on to Draco’s bed.

 He groaned and rolled over on to his stomach. Pulling the blankets off of him, she straddled his back. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss behind his ear. He let out a soft sigh in response. Taking it as a sign to continue, she pressed another one at the back of his hairline and continued down the back of his neck.



“Draco, get up. We have a busy day and I’m trying to make this your best birthday ever - which I know seems impossible since last year’s was pretty great, but this one will be the best one yet, I promise.” Y/N whispered as she pressed her hands into his back.

With Y/N moving her hands - and mouth - up and down his shoulders and back, this was was the most relaxed Draco had been in days. Between maintaining his “bad boy” image and dealing with whatever his father needed him to do, Draco had slipped into a minor depression - not that he’d tell anyone. But the only thing that ever came close to making him relax and see the good in the world was her. 



“I don’t want to.” Draco mumbled and closed his eyes tighter.


“I know that, Draco. But I have a whole day planned so get up and get dressed.” She placed another kiss behind his ear and the dormitory door swung open. Y/N jumped and Draco swung his head towards the door.

“Happy birthday, Draco!” Pansy shouted, dragging a tired looking Blaise behind her.

Draco groaned and his head found its way under his pillow.

“I thought I told you guys to wait downstairs.” Y/N rolled her eyes and swung herself off of Draco.

Pansy crossed her arms and cocked a hip.

“You were taking too long. I’m ready to get this day started!”

“Okay, okay! Draco, please get up and get dressed. Wear something casual, alright? We’ll be downstairs.” Y/N said and ushered Blaise and Pansy out of the room.


They only had to wait thirty minutes for Draco to finally drag himself down the long steps and into the Slytherin common room. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of dark black pants and although Y/N had known Draco for years, she still got butterflies when she saw him. He slung on arm around her, pulling her close, and planted a kiss on her temple. She smiled.

“Where to first then?” Draco asked.

The hike to Hogsmeade wasn’t as bad in June as it was in December - mainly because it wasn’t snowing. It didn’t take the four of them long to reach their first stop in the town. Y/N led the way with Draco holding her hand and following closely behind her. She stopped at the little station in front of the building.

“Hi, I have a reservation for four under the name Malfoy at ten?” she informed the girl behind the station. The girl smiled at the four of them and her eyes lingered a little too long on a certain platinum haired boy.


“Of course, follow me!” she exclaimed and led the four of them to their table.



 “Malfoy, huh?” Draco smirked down at his girlfriend and gently elbowed her in the ribs.


“For you. It was the only way they’d let me make a reservation.” she whispered back.


“How’d you do it? Did you take a polyjuice potion? Or did you just tell them you’re my mom? Did you take my last name as your own? Tell them we’re married? What’d you do?”


“I’m not admitting what I did or didn’t do to you, Draco. Assume what you will, but if I told you, I’m afraid I’d have to kill you.”

Draco chuckled and pulled out the chair for Y/N as they reached their table. Blaise did the same for Pansy and the boys sat down across from each other.

“Is this breakfast all you have planned today, Y/N?” Draco inquired while he stretched an arm around the back of her chair. Y/N shook her head left to right as she looked over the menu that had appeared in front of each of them.

“This is all she has planned with us, anyway.” Pansy muttered. Draco shot Y/N a questioning look then turned to Pansy.

“What do you mean by that, Pansy?” he asked.


“I mean that after this, you guys are going to explore Hogsmeade some more while Blaise and I go back to Hogwarts.”

The four teenagers enjoyed their breakfast. They sat and talked about big upcoming exams and how none of them really felt prepared for them - but did they ever? The four talked of their summer plans and how now that Voldemort was officially back, were they all coming back next year? Or were they staying home to help out their families? None of them knew for sure exactly what would happen. After an hour or so of dreary conversation, Y/N made them change the topic. This was a birthday breakfast after all.

The group finished their meals and went their separate ways. Draco held Y/N’s hand tightly as they went in and out of shops. She insisted on buying him something, but there was no way he was letting her do that.

Draco Malfoy was not very fond of his birthday. The only reason Y/N knew about it was because they had celebrated it a couple times when they were kids. Y/N took it upon herself to continue to make his birthdays a big deal once they got to Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure why she was so insistent on the topic. He didn’t understand. He was just a year older - no big deal.

Y/N led Draco to a small and quiet cafe. She knew he hated his birthday, but that’s the exact reason she made it such a big deal. To her, Draco had made it another year alive and for that, she was eternally grateful. She didn’t understand why he liked to sweep it under the rug. He hated presents and he hated surprises. She did both for him. She pulled out the box she had been hiding in her sweater pocket.

“I got this for you. Don’t say anything Draco, please. I wanted to do this for you. You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I know you hate presents, but I just had to.” she explained and set the small box down on the table. Draco eyed her then slid it to him.

Inside the box was a plain black ring. From far away, it looked extremely simple. Up close, though, it was carved with extremely intricate designs. There were swirls and snakes and when the light hit it just right, you could see the fangs on the snakes’ teeth. Picking it out of the box, the sun caught on some silver writing on the inside of it. He noticed his initials carved next to Y/N’s. His eyes filled with tears, but he held them back. This gift was automatically better than everything that Draco had ever been given.

“Is it okay? Do you like it? I know it’s not much, and you might think it’s stupid, but my family knows a guy who makes jewelry and such, and I asked him to make it for you. There’s a protection spell on it, so whenever you’re in danger, it sends a signal to a necklace I have back in my room and I’ll know you’re in trouble. It also protects you from any harm or at least-“

Y/N’s rambling was cut short by Draco’s lips on hers. His hands slid to her cheeks. He tried to convey how extremely grateful he was to have her in his life through that kiss. She pulled back a little and smiled.

“So you like it then? I know it’s kind of girly but-”


 “Of course I do, babe. Don’t worry. This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten and I’m so glad you care enough about me to at least try and make my birthday a special day. I love you so much, Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Draco whispered.

“I love you too.” she kissed him briefly again. “It’s time for your next activity, are you ready to come on an adventure with me?”

“Every day is an adventure with you. Let’s go.”

Y/N led Draco back to Hogwarts. They held hands and Draco glared at everyone that looked at the pair. Y/N made it seem like she was oblivious to this fact, but she secretly liked that Draco got so easily agitated. It made people leave them alone. It also helped that he was a Malfoy and people feared the Malfoys.

As they climbed staircase after staircase, Draco’s curiosity got the best of him. They’d passed the Room of Requirement and they had definitely passed the Slytherin common room.

At the sixth floor, Y/N made a right and continued down a long, dark hallway. About halfway down the hall, she stopped and entered a classroom. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years. There was dust everywhere and a strange machine sat in the middle of the room. Y/N let go of Draco’s hand and he stayed where he was.

Y/N pressed the ‘on’ button of the projector and it roared to life. The lightbulb flickered once before gaining its strength to steady out. She pointed it at a wall while the opening credits of a movie played.

“What is that?” Draco asked skeptically.


“It shows movies or uh - moving pictures with sound, I guess. A couple of muggles showed it to me two years ago. I wanted to show you my favorite one.” she answered quietly, trying to gauge her boyfriend’s reaction.

“That’s a muggle device then?”

“Yes.”

Draco crossed the room until he was standing in front of his girlfriend.

“Oh, Y/F/N Y/L/N, if my father only knew how much of a bad girl you really are.” he smirked and pulled out his wand.

With a flick and a swish, there was a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Snacks were piled by a corner of the blankets. The room looked sparkling clean. Y/N smiled and dropped onto the pile of blankets. Draco sat next to her and pulled her close. He wasn’t normally so easily convinced to do anything muggle related, but if Y/N liked it then it couldn’t be too bad.

Five hours and two movies later, Draco was whining as Y/N pulled him from the room. He pulled on her hand and tried to make her go back into that quiet and relaxing room with him, but she wouldn’t budge. She just kept leading him back down several flights of stairs. They reached the Slytherin common room and stopped right outside the door.

“Don’t get mad at me.” Y/N breathed. Draco rose an eyebrow and muttered the new password.

“SURPRISE!” a big group of people shouted.

Draco stopped just inside the door with Y/N following closely behind him. He hadn’t expected anything like this - not that he minded though. Draco Malfoy was always up for a good party. He smiled and waved as everyone went back to whatever it was they had been doing before the couple had entered the room. He turned around to his girlfriend.

“Why on earth would I be mad at you?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N leaned back a little and looked up into Draco’s blue eyes.

“I know you don’t like doing big things for your birthday, but I just had to, babe. I wanted you to be able to celebrate with all of your friends - not just me.” she explained.

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then kissed her lips.

“Happy birthday, dude! Why didn’t you tell us?” Theodore Nott interrupted as he strode up to the couple. Draco disentangled from Y/N. He settled for his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know, Theo. I just don’t think it’s a big deal.” Draco explained. Theo rolled his eyes and made his way to one of the drink tables.

Draco and Y/N pushed and shoved through the crowd and to the couches. They hadn’t had a decent conversation since they’d stepped in the place. Everyone wanted to wish Draco Malfoy a happy birthday. The couch was their usual hangout at parties in the Common Room and sure enough their were two seats left open.

After several hours of drinking and party games, everyone decided to head up to bed. In doing so, they also left the place a complete mess. Draco and Y/N had barely moved from their spot on the couch. The lights had gone out and they were sitting in front of the fire place enjoying the now quiet atmosphere. Her head was in his lap and he was playing with her hair.

“So tell me Draco Malfoy, did you enjoy you birthday party?” Y/N murmured.


 “If only because I got to spend it with you, love.” he whispered back.

“Please stop being cheesy for one second and be honest. Was your birthday everything and more?”

“Of course it was. Thank you for the best birthday ever,” he paused to lean down and kiss her cheek. “and for being the best girlfriend ever. I love you, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy.”

They left the cleaning to the house elves and the two fell into a peaceful sleep on the couch in the Slytherin Common Room.

prompt for anon request on this“I confessed to you riding shotgun underneath the purple skies.”

The car was quiet, next to the soft roaring of the motor surrounding them. Dean was driving, as always, hands on the wheel. Where they belonged, he felt. He’d been listening to one of his tapes before until Castiel had fallen asleep, and Dean had turned off the music so it wouldn’t wake him up. He knew how difficult sleeping was for Cas - he’d give him any opportunity to get rest.

The bags under his eyes that had always been there had become significantly larger - ever since he’d lost his wings for the last and final time, Castiel had been trying to adjust to human life. It had been like fighting a fight without any training, never winning but never losing either. 

He just had to keep going, learn to cope with hunger and getting tired, deal with new emotions, new moods, new feelings. Dean had been so dedicated, so determined to help him through that he forgot all about himself until Cas pointed it out to him that he, too, had to eat. He wouldn’t sleep if Sam wouldn’t take him away from Castiel’s bed where he sat, chin in his hands so he’d be there if Cas woke up with a nightmare. 

Whenever Castiel looked tired, overwhelmed, Dean felt like it was his fault. He tried anything until he found the best way to keep Castiel going, get him positive. Castiel loved training. He was still amazing with any knife, preferably those that felt like angel blades. He still had the strength and energy of a grown, muscled man, but he got tired faster. 

They had started training with guns two weeks ago, and Cas didn’t want to stop. Hours on end, he’d listen to Dean, mimic his hand movements, the position of his feet, and soon Dean realized Castiel was the best learner. Cas wanted and needed this and that was enough. He didn’t give up after mistakes and pushed himself to not stop until he got it right.

He wasn’t the only one changing, though. Dean changed, too. The moment Castiel lay dead on the ground, the burn marks of his wings outspread in the dirt, Dean changed. Something died inside him, together with Cas and he only then, after all those years, understood what this ‘profound bond’ Cas had mentioned was, and how special it had always been. 

But Cas had come back, thank God he’d come back, but Dean would never be the same. He was more careful, made sure Cas was never alone and told Sam to watch out for him whenever he had to leave them alone. Soon he noticed that Cas didn’t want him to watch over him like that, maybe it made him feel weak, so Dean kept it hidden. But it didn’t leave. Other feelings got stronger, too. Those feelings he’d always pushed away because he could and he didn’t want to deal with them.

Keep reading

Deathly Calm

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester

Length: 1723+ words

TW: Character death, cheating, implied smut, car accident

A/N: This is for Brook @wayward-oneshots and Taylor’s @impalaimagining Angst Challenge! This was super fun to write, and thank you for giving me the chance to join the challenge! I don’t know why I find this one so sad. I hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is appreciated! 

Prompt: “You told me to go to hell. Well, this is it - my life without you.”


“What the hell were you thinking?!” Dean bellowed. 

“I was saving your life,” you replied calmly- well, as calm as you could. Inside, your heart was racing. You’ve never seen Dean this mad before, and having him scream at you like that was enough to worry you. Despite your concern, you knew it would be best to stay calm. Be the steady water against his blazing fire. 

“The fuck you were- You were being stupidly reckless!”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but I was not, and you know it.”

“If you want to be stupid on your own, that’s fine, but don’t bring your shitty decisions when you’re hunting with us! We’ve already got enough shit on your plate, and we don’t have time to be babysitting you!”

“I can handle myself just fine, Dean. I think you need to cool down- you’re not thinking logically right now. I’m going to leave for the night, and we’ll talk in the morning.” 

“Oh, what?! You think I’m the one being unreasonable.”

“Right now? Yes.”

“Oh, go to fucking hell, Y/N. I’m done with your bullshit! If you wanna go on a suicide mission every time we go hunt, be my guest. Just don’t come crawling back to when you’re dying,” he spat.

“Bye, Dean.” You carefully closed the door behind you, deciding to get another room. The only room they had available happened to be the room right next to Dean’s room. You let out a sigh as you stepped in, careful not to make too much noise. The noise of heavy boots perforated through the thin walls, and soon your room shook with the force of Dean slamming the door beside yours. 

Keep reading

Dating Wonder Woman would include...

The only headcanons I wrote was about Wolverine (here), and since I never received any other requests about head canons…I’m very glad to write another one with Wonder Woman yo ! Though I’m not sure I’m doing it right, I made it way longer than most headcanons I saw around I think, and also cut it in more than one part…I hope it’s ok. So here we go, hope you’ll like it

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

__________________________________________________

How you met, how you two fell in love, the first “I love you” : 

✶ You first met Diana when your brother, Bruce aka the goddamn Batman, dragged you to the Justice League’s Watchtower (against your will). You were already a Gotham’s vigilante just like him, the next big step was obviously the League, though you didn’t like the idea of being in a little “super club”…

✶ You quickly changed your mind when you met Diana though. She’s the first one who talked to you, and though your brother told you many things about the Mighty Wonder Woman, you weren’t impressed. 

✶ That’s what made her fall in love with you. Because you accept her just as she is. And you couldn’t care less about the fact that she’s a Princess, or one of the most powerful being on Earth.

✶ The way you’re never afraid to tell people what you think, even if sometimes it’s almost rude, is also another reason she fell for you. She loves the fact that you’re independent, and don’t take anyone’s shit, including hers. You keep her grounded when she gets a bit too cocky or something. 

✶ Another thing that made her fall for you : even though you went through a lot of bad things during your life, you always saw the bright side of everything, and Diana understood why Bruce always referred to you as his “personal sunshine”. You didn’t have any super-power, but hey, the ability to make anyone (even the Batman) smile and laugh was even better. 

✶ Your brother shipping you two even before you started to both flirt with each other like crazy. 

✶ Your brother calling you “an idiot” when you decide to not reciprocate the flirting after a while, afraid to bring her in your chaotic life. “She’s Wonder Woman, as if anything could actually hurt her”. 

✶ Diana being somewhat depressed while your avoiding her…And the League having an “intervention” to convince your stubborn ass to talk to her again. 

✶ You not resisting for very long, because…Well, she’s Diana Prince, and if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been in love with her ever since you first met. Her not being even remotely mad at you for your sudden coldness toward her, on the contrary, being over the moon because you finally came back.

✶ Your brother giving you relationship advices : basically, do the opposite of what he would do. Best advice ever. 

✶ Becoming very close from each other because it seems you two are just hand made for each other. Conversation is always flowing just right, you don’t always agree with each other but always listen etc etc…A match made in heaven. 

✶ Diana knew she was doomed and totally in love with you the day you punched your brother AND Superman in the face because they dared to say you needed protection. “If I can punch you two idiots without you stopping me, then clearly, I’m fine without protection !”. Yup, she was definitely doomed.

✶Her knowing you hate when people protect you, but not being able to not do it…and you letting her protect you, because you love her, and if it can make her happy, then so be it. 

✶ Surprisingly, she’s the one that said “I love you” first…Right before what should have been a “suicide mission”. Needless to say it gave you a reason to fight like Hell to have the chance to tell her you love her too. 

✶ You never even had time to tell her, as when the battle was finished, and you two were still alive, she crashed her lips on yours. The rest of the League applauded when you were finally able to whisper, breathless : “I love you too D”

Keep reading

abandon

He tells her he has to go home, and she isn’t quite sure why she’s so surprised.

(It’s not abandonment, she tells herself. She’s never been abandoned. She’d been too young to question why her parents put her in that pod alone—why one of them didn’t come with her, why more people hadn’t been warned about Krypton’s immediate destruction, why nothing was put into place to save her people. She’d been too understanding when Clark told her she needed a real family on Earth, too calm when he distanced himself and kept to mostly text messages and the occasional visit. She’d been too involved with hurt to notice Alex slipping away from her, James and Winn leaving her, J’onn finding new family without her.

She’s never been abandoned. She knew Clark was always a flight away, that James and Winn would come running at the first admission she needed them, that even now Alex and J’onn were hovering off to the side, waiting for the moment Kara was alone and could assess her emotional state. Kara tells herself she’s never been abandoned.

Yet it doesn’t stop her from feeling as if she has—again and again and again.)

Keep reading

on the may 15th fansign, mental health, darkness, and hope

on May 15, 2015, during 화양연화 Pt. 1 I went to BTS’ fansign at Sinchon and had a conversation with Namjoon that I, at the time, chose not to reveal for personal reasons. at that time, because of that decision, there were a lot of people who criticized me—people accused me of saying something mean to him, accused me of hiding some secret relationship between us, called me a slut, etc. I didn’t say anything about it at the time because it seemed pointless, but now that 화양연화 has come to an end for real, and following the release of YOU NEVER WALK ALONE—plus, the upcoming 2 year anniversary of this extremely fateful conversation (lol)—I have decided to write about it, if only to explain a little of why I feel such a connection to the concept and so people will understand why I kept it private for so long.

I just want to go ahead and give people some warning: it’s not only a post about BTS. it’s a post about my life, and it contains a lot of sensitive material, like self-harm, suicidal ideation, and drug use. please bear that in mind if you decide to read it, I don’t want anyone to be upset by that content.

Keep reading

katherinem1996  asked:

Hi :] I followed you recently, and I'm glad I did. I like your Bucky cuddle drabbles, and I think you're really talented. If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe do a headcannon for dating pre-serum Steve? Thanks 💜

Thank you, love! You’re too sweet <3 I hope you like this. (I don’t think headcanons are supposed to be nearly 2k but oops my hands slipped. Thanks to @sarahwroteathing for being an angel and always helping me with everything.)

Dating pre-serum Steve

Originally posted by freakzter

It started off a little weird. Steve’s been your best friend since you met him. But he was laughing really hard at something you said–so hard he had tears in his eyes. Something bubbled up in you, and you leaned in real close and stole a quick kiss from his plush lips.

He stops immediately. Well, that’s new. He’s looking at you with those deep blue eyes, waiting for an answer…but you don’t have one. It was an impulse. Why had you done that?

Steve licks his bottom lip subconsciously and scoots close to you, going slowly so you have a chance to tell him if you don’t want this. But you suddenly realize you do–you want him with every fibre of your being. His kiss is hesitant, still waiting for you to push him away. After the initial shock of the situation, you kiss him back more surely.

He shows you off all the time.

On your first date, Steve takes you dancing because that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? That’s what Bucky does with all the dames he takes out. Despite all the practicing he and Bucky do before your date, Steve is so self conscious. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you. But, you see him fumbling as he shoots you shy, nervous smiles when he misses a step. Your heart swells with affection for him as you decide to pretend to be equally hopeless. You trip over his foot a couple times, go for a spin when there clearly wasn’t a call for one. Steve loosens up as you both make up outrageous dance moves for the ones that can’t be done.

Originally posted by sov-ja

Bucky gets wind of it and refuses to go on a double date with this trainwreck of a couple until you get some dance lessons.

Bucky insists to teach you both himself in the boys’ apartment. He’s moved the furniture around to accommodate a dancefloor. You’re a pretty decent dancer, truth be told; but you keep up appearances for Steve’s sake. That, and it’s actually a lot more fun to botch dance moves with Bucky than you would have initially thought. The teasing was well worth hearing your man laugh until he couldn’t breathe. Literally. Poor baby agitated his Asthma more while laughing with you and Bucky than anything else.

Steve will realize one day that he’s still talking to you like you’re just his best friend Y/N. He gets a bit self conscious about it, and is determined to treat you more like a lady. You’re his girl, after all, and you should be treated like a queen. He stutters ‘more appropriate’ compliments out, blushing as soon as he sees the questioning look on your face. When you ask him what’s going on, he tells you that he’s trying to treat you like a girlfriend. You giggle, kissing his cheek and making him blush again. “You don’t have to worry about that, Stevie. I fell for you because you were my friend.”

Steve compliments you all the time. His goal is to make you blush at least once a day. Some days, though, it gets to be too much and you have to kiss him just to shut him up.

Just because Steve is you boyfriend now, doesn’t mean you don’t still hang out like you did before. You, Steve, and Bucky still go down to the creek and skip rocks together. You all still go to the railroad and have adventures in your abandoned railway car. Just because you and Steve steal kisses when you think Bucky isn’t looking, doesn’t change that the three of you are still best friends.

His notebooks are full of sketches and doodles of you, of your individual features. There’s a lot of your eyes, of your smile…conveying every emotion between the nose scrunch you do when he compliments you, to the little frown that pulls at your lips when Bucky says something unsavory (it doesn’t happen often, Bucky’s usually a gentleman around you), to the dreamy look you get in your eyes when you see a mother pushing her baby in a stroller.

One day, Steve is so caught up in watching you as you watch kids play at the park. “I’m gonna marry you.” He blurts it out with such sincerity, he blushes deeply. You just smile at him coyly. A sweet laugh falls from your lips and it makes Steve tumble further into the void. You spend the rest of the day proposing to Steve in crazy ways while he laughs, “Shaddup, Dollface.”

When he gets sick during the winter after his mom passes, you refuse to leave his side. He tells you that you’re gonna get sick, too, if you keep hanging around him; but, you don’t care. You and Bucky get scared for a couple of days. You both think it could be a possibility that this is the illness that will finally claim Steve’s life. But the little runt always proves you both wrong.

Steve’s such a sap about it. “I only made it because you stayed with me. I guess I have to marry you, now. You’re the only thing keeping me alive.” You’re so relieved that you’re crying and laughing so hard you have to bury your face in his chest. When you finally calm down, you place a delicate kiss on his forehead and smile fondly at him. “You’re darn right you do, you chucklehead.”

Steve’s gotten into less fights being with you. You’re so in sync with him that you know what makes his blood boil. His righteousness has bled into your being, and you can’t help but mouth off to any bully that you two come across. Even when they continue with their wrongdoing, you refuse to back down until they stalk off with their tail between their legs. Steve always goes a little starry eyed when this happens.

When the war breaks out, you know Steve will want to enlist and it makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You always hope and pray that he’ll get denied, and you’ll thank whatever deity was listening when he comes back with a sullen look on his face and rejection paper in his hand. You tell him that they don’t know what they’re missing out on. He launches into a speech about how he should be out there defending what’s his. He has so much patriotism, it moves you. You only feel a little guilty for being selfish and wanting to keep him home, safe.

When Bucky gets drafted, it’s hard on all of you. Steve tries to enlist again, and he comes home with the biggest grin on his face. Your stomach drops when you see the stamp of approval on his forms, but you smile and hug him because you know this is what he wants. When he lets you go, he looks at you seriously. “I know you’re scared, but they’re giving me a chance. I want to go out there and defend my country..defend my girl.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “And–and, well…” He stutters and fumbles to get something out of his pocket. “I want to know that you’ll still be here when I get back.” He holds a ring between his fingers, your breath leaves you completely. “So, Y/N, will you marry–?”

You don’t give him the opportunity to finish, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips as he slips the ring onto your finger.

When you take him to the train station, he kisses you longingly, knocking the breath out of you. Steve tells you he’ll write as soon as he can. The train starts moving, he almost misses it because he doesn’t want to leave you. As soon as he hops on, he yells, “I love you!” The goofy grin on his face makes you smile through your tears and you stay rooted on the spot until long after the train has left your sight.

Weeks pass and you don’t hear anything from Steve. No letters. No calls. You’re worried. Who wouldn’t be? That is, until you see the propaganda films of Captain America. He looks dreamy. So strong, so sure, so..familiar?

You’re in the middle of a theater when you realize that Captain America is Steve. Your fiancee, Steven Grant Rogers, is Captain America. You nearly pass out from the shock. You immediately go out and buy every paper that has news about Captain America in it.

It’s about four days after that when you finally get a call from him. He sounds so happy, so relieved to hear your voice before you go crazy. You ask him all kinds of questions, hardly waiting for a response before launching into another set of questions. “Doll! Doll!” he calls through the phone when he can hear you’re about to hyperventilate. “I’m okay. Let me tell you what happened.”

And he does. He tells you everything that’s happened since he left five months ago: the experimental procedure, traveling the country to sell bonds, Bucky’s capture, the very unauthorized rescue mission. He tells you that he’s part of a specialized group called the Howling Commandos. You listen, absolutely enraptured until he tells you that he has to go. He tells you he’ll call again soon.

Steve calls you weekly while he’s in the army. His calls become the highlight of your week.

You still collect newspapers with Captain America and the Howling Commandos news.

It’s late September 1945 when Steve and Bucky finally come home. You see Bucky first and launch into his arms, kissing his cheek, telling him how happy you are that he’s home. A throat clears beside you, and your jaw drops at the sight of your fiancee. Yes, you’d seen him in propagandas and newspaper articles, but seeing this new Steve in the flesh was something you’d have to get used to.

His smile is the same, though, and it melts your insides. You release Bucky and slowly make your way over to Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him tightly into your embrace. His face is buried in your neck, strong arms wrapping around you and lifting you from the ground. You’re both so ecstatic that you’re crying. You’re pressing kisses wherever you can reach while he tells you how much he’s missed you, how he’s ready to marry you, start a family with you.

You two wind up going to the courthouse that day with Bucky as your witness and marry your best friend.

Pulse Part 5

Part 4

Genre: Angst
Words: 2,080
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Stalking, minor violence
Summary: Soulmate AU in which one’s heartbeat becomes perfectly in sync with their soulmate’s once they meet.

Bucky’s black Ford Explorer smelled like leather. With all of the things going on at the moment, your mind could only focus on the fact that his car was the newest model. That, and that your red, scraped palms were burning.

“Did you get a good look at his face?” Bucky’s rough voice broke the silence as his car sped through an intersection.

“Just his eyes. I wasn’t focusing on remembering what he looked like, I was kind of trying not to be killed.”

Any vulnerability you had shown in front of Bucky on the sidewalk had been locked up as soon as you entered his car. He might have been willing to help you, but he was doing so out of kindness, not because he had feelings for you.

Keep reading

All This Time - An Elriel Fic - Chapter 1

Well. This story poured out of me today once I realized how many people were on board the Elriel ship (post here). 

Keep in mind this is a slow burn and will be approximately 8 chapters. Please let me know if you like it so that I know to continue.

———–

He was death and darkness and shadows. She was life and light and fresh air. They were both quiet and gentle and caring. She grew flowers while he grew shadows. 

***

Two years after the defeat of Hybern

Elain stood in the foyer of the townhouse, waiting for Feyre to appear. Her sisters were always fluttering in and out, doing a million different things at once, and it was never easy to track them down. She figured the townhouse was a good starting place, as someone was bound to show up eventually.

Since no one had dared to make an appearance yet, she figured it was as good a time as any to check the garden out back. In the two years since the defeat of the King, Elain had taken up her own residence a few streets away. She had her own sprawling garden there, but still tended to Feyre and Rhys’ in her spare time. Theirs was mostly devoted to various herbs and spices, while hers had beautiful flowers, trees and shrubs.

As she stepped outside, the sunlight hit her and she couldn’t help but raise her face and arms to the sky. She was lucky to be alive, and thankful for it, most days. There were days when it still didn’t seem real, when she couldn’t believe this was her life. That she not only had years ahead of her, but centuries.

As she bent down to check the thyme, with her fae hearing, she heard the crack of someone winnowing into the house. Knowing it was always best to announce your presence in Rhys and Feyre’s house, lest they immediately started doing things best left for the bedroom (and she had walked in on them more times she cared to admit), she called out, “I’m in the backyard!”

Rhys appeared in the doorway of the garden, leaning, as he always did, against the threshold.

“Looking for Feyre?” He’d been flying at some point during the day since he smelled of the wind. A few specks of darkness leaked from him, but nothing out of the ordinary. These days, their lives were “downright boring” - Mor’s words, not her own.

She didn’t mind the boring.

She nodded at him.

He gave her a soft smile in return, and she knew he was using the bond to tell Feyre she was looking for him. “She’ll be over when she’s done dealing with Cassian.”

Elain nodded. She thought about asking what Cassian had done to incur the wrath of her sister and his High Lady, but it was such a common occurrence that she didn’t bother. She turned back to the garden.

“Can I get you anything, Elain?” Rhys asked, pushing himself off the doorway.

“I’m all set, thank you.”

Rhys left her to the thyme.

***

A short time later, Feyre winnowed straight into the garden and immediately mumbled, “I swear on Amren’s favorite ruby necklace that the next time that asshole decides to borrow one of the paintings for his house without paying the artist for it, I will make sure him and Nesta don’t have any privacy for a month.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Feyre.” Rhys chuckled from inside the house.

“Go make yourself useful, elsewhere,” Feyre replied, before giving him a vulgar gesture. Elain immediately worried that maybe this wasn’t the best time to have the conversation she needed to have with her sister. But the second Feyre turned to look at her, it was as if all of the anger evaporated. As if she couldn’t bare to frown or yell or be angry with Elain.

Feyre strolled over to her sister, the day’s stress flowing out of her like string. “It’s good to see you, Elain,” she said, taking a seat on the iron bench. “Need a break from the morons who make up my court.”

Elain gave her a weak smile.

“What is it? Rhys said you were waiting here for a while. Is everything okay?”

No. Everything was not okay. But she didn’t know where to begin.

“Is it Lucien?” Feyre prodded. These days, it was always about Lucien. “Did something happen?”

Sometimes, Elain thought her sister was also a seer. She nodded.

“Did he come back early?” Feyre asked. Silence. “Elain, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone.”

And Elain, sweet, gentle Elain, who never said more than a few sentences at a time, started talking. And what she had been holding in for months poured out of her.

“No, he didn’t come back early. He’s at the Day Court with Helion for the rest of the month and….does it make a horrible person if I don’t want him to come back? If I realized this is the happiest I’ve been in a year? When he’s gone? He’s my mate, Feyre, and I know he is. I feel the bond, I feel the pull, but when he’s away….that feels right, too. It feels doable. It feels liveable.”

Feyre nodded, urging her on.

“I see you and Rhys, and…I want that. I want what you two have. But that’s not me and Lucien. We don’t match. He needs fire and wind and destruction. And I need calm and quiet and….”

“Shadows?”

“I was going to say sunshine. But Feyre, I can’t remember the last time I truly smiled.”

Feyre did know. Since the death of the King, it was always calm, weak smiles from Elain. She’d forgotten what her sister’s real smile looked like. Feyre grasped Elain’s hands in her own as Elain continued, “Right before Lucien left, we decided that when he came back we’d make a decision. Together. But I know what my answer is. I don’t want it. Maybe it’s because I’m still healing, maybe it’s because I’m not ready for it…but I -”

“You want to reject the bond?” Feyre whispered, a tinge of fear to her voice.

“I want to reject the bond.” There. She’d said it. And it was like a weight she’d been carrying since the moment she’d tumbled out of the cauldron was lifted.

Feyre wrapped her arms around her, Elain resting her head on his sister’s shoulder. “Okay. I’ll talk to Rhys tonight. We need to…figure out a few things.”

“In case he goes crazy when I reject it?”

“Yes.” She sounded afraid.

“You’ve always taken care of me.”

“And I always will.”

*******

Feyre had insisted Elain stay for dinner, not wanting her to go back to her house to sit by herself now that she’d told her the news. She could tell her sister felt lighter than she had in years, and had even come close to cracking a smile a few times during the dinner as Mor and Rhys bickered back and forth.

Nesta was off visiting the Winter Court and Feyre was glad for it - she wasn’t sure how Nesta was going to handle the news. Her and Rhys needed to have a plan in place before she returned.

“Stop frowning at me,” Elain said from across the table. “Didn’t anyone tell you that it’ll give you wrinkles?”

“We don’t get wrinkles,” Feyre responded with a wink.

Rhys waved his hand to clear the dishes, leaving the wine glasses. “One more round?” he asked.

“I’ll grab one of the special bottles,” Mor said, rising from the table.

At that moment, Azriel breezed into the room, wrapped in shadows.

“Nice of you to join us,” Rhys said, barely turning his head to look at the shadowsinger. “I invited you three hours ago. Where have you been?”

“Not everything in my life is about you, Rhys,” Azriel replied, jokingly. He didn’t offer any more of an explanation. He sat down in one of the empty chairs at the table, pulling a glass of wine towards himself. He nodded to Mor, things still a little awkward between them, before turning towards Elain and giving her a smile. His shadows curled slightly. 

Feyre was so busy trying to analyze if things between Mor and Azriel were back to normal, that she almost missed it. But it was there. A genuine smile had crossed her sister’s lips.

———-

Chapter 2 here.

nothing to lose, pt 2

[PART ONE HERE; collab with @pipedream]

summary: andrew minyard and nathaniel wesninski meet on the titanic in 1912. neil’s a rich runaway who’s finally being made to atone for his crimes against the family, and he feels like there’s nothing left to live for- until andrew promises to show him that there’s more to life than just survival.

word count: 5444 / 11836

trigger warnings: major character death, homophobia, suicide, guns, knives, violence, murder, death

  • there are voices approaching the cabin, so with a quiet question, neil takes andrew’s hand and leads him to the elevators, running to evade the valet
  • he chases them, no doubt on orders by riko, through the halls and down elevators
  • neil feels lighter in a way he’s recognizing only proximity to andrew makes him feel
  • he tightens his grip on andrew’s hand as they make their way through the ship’s incinerators and when andrew glances back he looks years younger than usual
  • somehow, they make their way to the cargo, and neil is done with running. all of his life, he’s been running, and even though it’s different with andrew by his side, it’s time to stop, just for a while
  • he sees andrew’s eyes catch on a car, one more expensive than andrew would probably ever be able to afford, so neil slides into the back of it with as much pomp and circumstance as he can muster. it’s the closest thing he can do to granting andrew permission to get into the car
  • andrew looks around, as if checking they haven’t been followed, then seems to concede that the back of a car isn’t a bad place to hide for a short while, and he climbs in next to neil
  • the silence isn’t tense, but it’s heavy, and neil doesn’t want to waste a second with andrew if they’re numbered
  • “tell me about your family,” he says, because they’re the only thing he really knows about andrew, and he doesn’t know enough
  • andrew doesn’t seem offended by the question, but he gives neil a considering look nonetheless. “what will you give me for it?”
  • “are we doing a truth for a truth again?” neil says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “anything you ask.”

Keep reading