strode

Imagine Dean pours all of his love and passion for you in a kiss.

“Y/N!” Dean bellowed, frantically looking for you. The hunt had just finished and as Sam tried to clean up the scene, Dean had gone searching. The last time he had seen you, one of the demons had been pinning you to the floor, a knife to your throat.

“Dean!” you gasped, getting up from the floor. Even though you thought the demon had you, there was a moment in which it got distracted and you had used it to your advantage, plunging Ruby’s knife into its chest. 

“You’re alright,” he grinned. Before you could reply, he strode over to you, cupping your face and crashing his lips down on yours. He had let this go on for way too long, had denied his feelings for you at every turn, and it was about time he owned up to them. 

When he pulled away, you stood stunned, eyes wide and jaw slack. 

“Come here,” he muttered, pulling you back in again. This time, you did more than kiss back.


@thewitchtheydidntgettoburn

Open ll

Walking into a bar in the middle of the afternoon was a lot like walking into a bar in a western movie. The music was low, the only people around were scatterbrained drunks from the night before, and the smell of whatever the staff had yet to clean up from last night’s happy hour filled the room. It was both wasteland and drunken paradise…for those who didn’t work there, anyways .“Lex, where the hell have you been? You were supposed to open up today, do you think I’m paying you to slack off and wear that, all day?” he interrogated, gesturing to her jeans and long sleeved shirt. “Get your goddamn hot pants on.” Barked her boss, and Lexi sighed, bored as he talked at her.

“I quit.” she remarked, a careless smile on her lips before the man strode toward her with his finger aimed like a handgun. “You…are not leaving me–” he began, but Lexi was done hearing him speak, in the blink of an eye Lexi had his head pinned down onto the bar, her hand holding him down as she picked up a beer bottle and opened it by slamming the cap down to the edge of the counter. “Shh..” she hushed gently, taking a sip of the beer before bending down to his eye level, hand still pressed firmly down on the side of his face as he struggled. “You’re going to shut up, and forget I ever came by or worked here, and for every person that comes around asking for me, you’re going to take a broken bottle and get a nice clean slice at them. Understood?” she asked, to which the compelled bar owner nodded. “Good.” she said before raising the bottle to hit him over the head with it, only to be stopped by a tight grip on her wrist and she turned to come into contact with another person. “Can I help you?” she asked.

clumsy-red-spook asked:

“Val! Val, Come here, quick!” [[Mostly 'cause we need more than just our NYE thread. :P ]]

Our muses have to kiss in a corner to avoid detection. Send “Come here, quick!” for my muse to react to yours initiating the kiss.

Val turned around and casually strode over to Cerise. “What’s up?” she asked. It was kind of strange to be called over in such a hurry. To her knowledge, there wasn’t anything crazy going on. “Is there a reason you need me to be here so urgently?”

2

Without the slightest hesitation, the cloaked figure of Kylo Ren emerged and strode forward to join the battle. A stunned Rey could only track him with her eyes. She had seen this man before, in a daydream. In a nightmare.

submitted by not-sis-strider

    Dave grimaced as he examined himself in the bathroom mirror, leaning onto the sink to get a closer look at the splotchy bruise already forming on his jaw, that shallow, ragged cut that had missed his eye by an inch. His glasses lay forgotten on the edge of the sink, one of the lenses shattered completely and the other cracked beyond repair. This certainly wasn’t the first fight he’d gotten himself into (antagonizing stupid people is just so tempting sometimes), but it had been the worst one in a while, and he’s just lucky the bastard he’d gotten into it with had no idea how to throw a punch. Dave suspects the idiot broke something in his hand.

    Grumbling to himself, the blonde tugs off his ruined shirt, about half of the blood staining it belonging to him and the other half to his opponent. This really wouldn’t be that big of a deal- none of the cuts from the pansy-ass pocket knife were deep enough to require stitches, and he hadn’t broken or even displaced anything as far as he could tell. He was bruised all to hell, but there’s nothing to be done about those anyway. No, the problem is that today is Wednesday, and Bro gets off work early on Wednesdays, which means he could be home any minute-

     The bloodied boy curses out loud when he hears the familiar sound of the apartment door cracking open, Bro letting his keys clatter into the junk bowl in the kitchen, the twin snaps as he removes his beloved fingerless gloves. The bathroom door is locked, but that never stops Bro, especially not in his own damn apartment. There’s footsteps in the hall that stop outside the bathroom door, heavier because Dave’s guardian hasn’t removed his shoes yet, and then Bro’s familiarly deep voice:

    “Dave? Ya in there, kid? You din’ drown, did ya?”

    The youngest Strider curses again, under his breath this time, and leans against the door as if that would do anything to stop Bro if he really wanted to get in. “Yes, Bro, I’m in here, no I didn’t drown, can you go away now?”

    “I’m hurt, Davey, truly hurt. Don’t you want to give your big bro a welcome home kiss? You’re not dying in there, are you?”

    “Fuck, no, just-” The words cut out with a small noise of pain from the smaller blonde, when he shifts just the wrong way and a rib that is probably bruised gives an angry throb of pain, demanding to be paid attention to.

    And then the bathroom door is banging open and Dave has to stumble forward to avoid getting hit by it, Bro standing in the doorway while he assesses the situation. His eyes flick to the crumpled shirt on the ground, the forming bruises all over Dave’s bare torso, the occasional shallow cut. There’s indents from gravel on the boy’s cheek, and dirt in his white-blonde hair.

    Dave watches as his brother’s expression shifts minutely, twists, can see the righteous anger in his eyes even as he steps closer to examine Dave himself. He sucks in a sharp breath when roaming, calloused fingers prod at tender bruises, grunting softly when the older of the pair uses a little too much force in checking to make sure no bones were broken. Bro is practically shaking now, and he looks like he’s ready to murder someone.

    “Bro, come on, it’s not that-”

    “Who the hell did this to you? Goddamnit, Dave, you can’t keep starting shit with people! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” Bro reprimands, eyes hard. Dave swallows thickly, because no matter what happens between them, Bro always has the ability to make him feel small again, make him feel ashamed.

    “Seriously, Bro, you’ve done worse to me in the past! I’ll be fine, okay? Chill.”

    Bro ignores him in favor of making him sit on the edge of the bathtub, shuffling things around under the sink until he finds the first-aid kit. When he finds it, he turns around again in the tiny space available and squats down in front of his injured brother. Before he can start to take out any of the supplies he’ll need, Dave reaches out and pulls him close, connects their lips gently. The kiss is brief, and a few second later, Dave pulls away an inch or so, looking into Bro’s orange eyes. 

    “Bro. Calm down, okay? You’re gonna patch me up and I’ll be fine, I promise. No need to panic.”

    Finally, the spiky-haired Strider nods and withdraws from his brother’s grasp to return to his job of making sure Dave doesn’t die from infection, pulling out antiseptic and bandages. He wets a cotton swab with rubbing alcohol, goes after the cut that almost got Dave’s red eye. The younger blonde grabs the offending hand before it can reach though, and Bro raises an eyebrow.

    “What the hell, dude, you gotta kiss it better first. Otherwise the magic won’t work and my fair maiden heart surely will cease to beat. Or some shit.”

    Bro gives him a look that clearly says ‘are you fucking serious right now’, but Dave just smirks at him and raises an eyebrow when his brother doesn’t move.

    “Chop chop, bro, one smooch for each boo-boo.”

    Finally, the older man leans forward and presses his lips against the jagged cut, and it stings a little, but it’s definitely worth it. Then he does swab it with the alcohol and holy shit, he doesn’t care how many times he has to clean a cut, alcohol always hurts like a bitch. Bro does the same for all of Dave’s wounds, dressing each in a self-adhesive bandage, and even deigns to bestow a kiss on some of the forming bruises. When he’s all done and everything is put away, the ruined shirt tossed in the trash, and his torn up knuckles kissed and treated as well, Bro scoops his brother up in his arms with a squawk of protest from said brother and carries him like a fucking princess all the way to his bed, where he lays Dave down gingerly and then crawls in next to him, still dressed. Dave sighs contentedly, curling into his brother’s broad chest and comfortable warmth, letting his eyes slip shut. They lay like that for a few minutes, neither speaking or doing much of anything but enjoying being in contact with the other.

    Until Bro broke it: “So, are you going to tell me how you got into this massive fight?”

You never called me back,“ he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back.”
Magnus looked at Alec as if he’d lost his mind. “Your city is under attack,” he said. “The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven’t called you?”
Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I want to know why you haven’t called me back.”
Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. “You’re an idiot.”
“Is that why you haven’t called me? Because I’m an idiot?”
“No.” Magnus strode toward him. “I didn’t call you because I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I’m tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.”
“You love me?”
“You stupid Nephilim,” Magnus said patiently. “Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!
—  City of Glass (CAN WE HAVE THIS IN THE SHOW TOO?!)
10

New this week!

The opening of Sergio Leone’s Spaghetti Western opus Once Upon A Time in the West acts as a tense farewell to the Dollars Trilogy.

Watch the Once Upon a Time in the West opening on Art of the Title

You never called me back,“ he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back.”
Magnus looked at Alec as if he’d lost his mind. “Your city is under attack,” he said. “The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven’t called you?”
Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I want to know why you haven’t called me back.”
Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. “You’re an idiot.”
“Is that why you haven’t called me? Because I’m an idiot?”
“No.” Magnus strode toward him. “I didn’t call you because I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I’m tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.”
“You love me?”
“You stupid Nephilim,” Magnus said patiently. “Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!
—  City of Glass,