the way we were before

Secondhand smoke kills, but not as fast as firsthand hammer. 

10

Daisy Johnson in Agents of SHIELD: ‘Farewell, Cruel World!’

Enemies to Lovers meme

WARNING: Some phrases are toxic and can be taken as possessive behavior!

  • “This changes nothing… I’m still me, even if I’m with you.”
  • “That kiss… did you really mean it?”
  • “No one has to know about us, I know this could ruin you.”
  • “Yes, I love you, but I can’t ignore everything you did in the past.”
  • “Listen. We have to move on. Past is past, what we have now is everything.”
  • “Are you messing with me, because if you didn’t mean what you said, I will kill you.”
  • “Was that ‘just a fuck?’ I don’t think so.”
  • “You don’t have to say you love me. No one means it anyway.”
  • “Just let me love you, and you can pretend to love me. I don’t mind.”
  • “Don’t leave me now, I can’t bare it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, just don’t leave me.”
  • “I don’t expect you to change. I don’t want you to.”
  • “People will talk. Let them. Their opinions mean nothing to me.”
  • “It’s us against the world now, isn’t it?”
  • “Every time you kiss someone else, you’ll be thinking of me, I know it.”
  • “If fighting tells a person’s true nature, than no one knows you better than me.”
  • “If anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll break their every finger.”
  • “Nothing like years of unbridled hatred to make for the best sex you ever had.”
  • “I’ve wanted you for so long, I could never say before.”
  • “I can’t go back to the way things were before, being with you changed everything.”
  • “We can pretend that nothing happened last night,  but it did. And now we have a choice to make.”
  • “You know every time you made me angry, I fantasized about you… “
  • “I don’t regret one single moment, not one. It led me to you.”
  • “I guess this means we belong to each other now, hm?”
  • “If anyone tries to talk me out of this, I won’t hear them. I promise.”
  • “Are you sure you want this? There’s no going back now.”
  • “If you break my heart, I will deny everything and erase you.”
  • “This may be the worst decision I ever made, I don’t know. But we have to see if we can work.”
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jamesgunn #GotGPicoftheDay@zoesaldana & @pomin8r between set-ups. It’s great to have actors playing new characters (like Mantis and Ego) come into the fold and fit in instantly - in some ways it felt like we were missing something before they arrived. #gotgvol2 #behindthescenes #marvel#pomantis #Gamora #mantis

"So what now?"

My first request: @16reasonswhy16q7w said;
But hey ima request, can you do an imagine where clay is in love with you but feels like it’s wrong because of everything that happened with Hannah and her being gone but he is really falling for the reader so he gives in

Also while I was at school someone threatened to shoot up local high schools and I could’ve died so yeah…

•••

Clay mindlessly exchanged books from his locker according to the classes he had left. Honestly, he was just killing time. What Clay was really doing was waiting for a certain h/c haired girl.

Clay heard the familiar voice of y/n; she was still at her locker (three lockers down from Hannah’s old locker) talking to one of her friends. Some feeling similar to guilt filled his stomach. He wasn’t sure why so he re-concentrated on his locker.

Then for a moment he thought he saw a brown haired girl in a white shirt. Hannah Baker. Clay closed his eye and shook his head, when he opened it Hannah was gone. He wasn’t sure which way he liked better; but he knew he liked y/n.

Like he’d ever tell anyone, especially her. After everything that happened… y/n closed her locker and she paused; y/n just stared at Hannah’s locker.

Clay mentally scolded himself…y/n was well known here. At first she was just one of Hannah’s friends that he was too shy to talk to; now the whole school knew her as the girl who had the breakdown after Hannah.

“Hey y/n,” Clay said before even giving himself a chance to decide if he was going to approach her.

Y/n smiled slightly, but it wasn’t the kind he liked. Clay remembered her genuine smiles, the kind that went to her eyes. This smile was a practiced polite smile, one that showed she was closed off.

“Hi Clay,” she replied. Clay didn’t know what to say and he wished he had prepared better. He didn’t know why he felt so awkward, he knew y/n she was a friend. She seemed extra annoyed this morning. “What’s wrong?”

Y/n let out a sigh. “My parents are a little paranoid since I haven’t been going out since…the point is I haven’t gone on dates or parties or anything.” She sighed once again, “my mom’s considering forcing me into joining a painful agony that is emotional therapy.”

Clay wasn’t sure if this was a sign or if this was fate being taunting. “We could hand out this weekend.” Y/n paused raising an eyebrow. “I-I mean to get your parents off your case so you don’t have to go to that.”

Y/n contemplated his offer. “I accept to these terms and conditions,” she responded in a kidding tone.

“Alright,” Clay said trying to sound much more relaxed than he felt. “I should get to class but I’ll text you for a day.”

As Clay started to turn away y/n responded. “You do realize you need my number to text me, right?”

For the first time, y/n felt like she looked forward to something. There always was this guilt for what happened; if she had called more maybe Hannah would still be her.

Clay listened. Listened to the tape.

*** (this is Hannah’s voice in the tape)***

Y/n l/n, where to start with this one. Don’t worry, she isn’t a–not like the others. But she deserves to have a testimony.

Y/n with the h/c hair, the girl always reminded me of hot chocolate. She in herself could solve someone’s problem the same way hot chocolate could.

We were allies long before we were friends. Then one day she showed up, showed up with this expression. Anger, sadness, and fear rolled into one. The expression didn’t fit her. She was too pretty to look so sad.

We were at the lockers and I asked her what’s the matter and I swear she almost told me. But instead she snapped and told me to leave her alone. She broke down though…the way hot chocolate ended was the same way she snapped. It was the greatest falling out.

***

Clay knew better than to bring this up. All he did was wait for Saturday.

***

Eventually the day came and y/n wore her grey t-shirt and light blue ripped jeans. She didn’t know what to expect but her mother was happy; and that was one less thing to feel bad about.

Y/n met up with Clay at the park. It was weird for her to be here again. She felt these butterflies…did she like Clay? That’s ridiculous, then Clay’s hand brushed her hand. The butterflies got stronger–yep, she liked him. Maybe even something more.

Clay couldn’t, and that’s why he wanted to so badly. After the whole Hannah incident any feelings like that toward anyone were terrible. Then she smiled, that specific breath stealing smile. He couldn’t stop himself before he took y/n’s hand.

“I know you’ve got complications,” he muttered.

Y/n froze, “I-I.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like that. I just know you and Hannah had a falling out.” The phrase ‘falling out’ made y/n flinch. “A-are you okay?”

Y/n shivered slightly and shook her head. “Y-yeah, just a bit cold.”

Clay handed her his jacket and y/n took it but gave him a confused expression. “Well you said you were cold.”

“Thanks,” y/n said.

“Look I don’t care what happened or what you did or didn’t do…I-I like you a lot.” His admission made her freeze. “Just forget it.”

When y/n’s shock died down she asked a question. “What if I don’t want to forget it?”

Clay gave a small, sarcastic smile. “Are you saying you like me?”

Y/n would never admit that. “I’m not saying I’m not saying that.”

Her expression made him laugh. “I like you a lot, y/n l/n.”

“I like you a lot too, Clay Jensen.” Y/n replied.

Bye the time she realized that she had admitted it was too late.“

“You said it,” Clay teased!

Y/n defended herself, “shut up.”

Clay smiled and once again before he knew what he was doing he did it. He leaned in and kissed y/n. For a moment he didn’t care about anything or everything that had happened or could happen. All he cared about was that he was with y/n.

Y/n pulled away first. “I like you too.”

“So, what now?”

Y/n took his hand. “So, what now indeed.”

***

I hoped you liked this :)) also I’m willing to do a prologue or part 2 just let me know!

I was meant to be with him,” she said,
“That’s one thing I do believe. I believe that we were right for each other at some point and that we were meant to be once upon a time. But in this cruel world of reality life changes before you even have time to blink and suddenly everything you had ever known is no longer familiar to you. I do believe that he was supposed to be my last love, the person that I would grow old with. But I also believe that I fell in love with him too soon, that my eyes landed on him before they were supposed to and perhaps we fucked everything up because we went against fate and met way before our time. It’s like we were so perfect for each other but the universe found ways to tear us apart. It’s like when you’re in the sea and you’re trying to catch the waves with your hands. You know.. When it’s right there in front of you but absolutely impossible to catch.
—  Excerpt of a book I’ll never write

It had been going on for a while. Rival papers, rival journalists. Clarke would get the tip, Lexa would arrive first at the scene – or vice versa. She rather liked it when it was her getting the story first, but her victories were just as frequent as Lexa’s.

There had to be a traitor in her office – there was one in Lexa’s after all, with Niylah feeding Clarke scoop after scoop just as soon as Lexa got word of them. Was Lexa flirting with one of her co-workers too? The thought was… oddly unpleasant.

Of course, there were the times when their rivalry, known (and barely put up with) by all, took a slight… detour and things between them would heat up in a very different way than usual.

Even though she would never admit it to anyone, those were the times Clarke revelled the most. Those were the times that made losing a few first hand stories almost worth it. Lexa didn’t need to know that, though.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

The voice, softer than her own, pulled the corners of Clarke’s lips up into a smile. She lay her chin on the chest underneath her, blue eyes playfully meeting green ones.

“Thank God none of our friends know about this,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss between Lexa’s breasts. “Raven and Octavia would tease me endlessly.”

To Clarke’s surprise, Lexa didn’t smirk; she frowned. “You haven’t told your friends about us?”

Clarke laughed and got off of Lexa, opting to lie down beside her. “What, like you have?” The deepening crease between those striking jade eyes was answer enough and she didn’t know how to react. “There is no us, Lexa.”

Suddenly Lexa was up, throwing covers off her lithe body and searching for her clothes among the jungle of Clarke’s bedroom floor. Clarke, in turn, was utterly confused, taken aback by Lexa’s sullen behaviour.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it look like, Clarke?” Lexa snapped as she pulled pants up to her waist. “I’m going home.”

“Why? We were just relaxing, I don't– what the hell is wrong with you?”

Lexa finished buttoning her shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh, turning to Clarke with a cold gaze.

“I get it, Clarke. We are rivals, we steal each other’s stories, and then we fuck to keep the adrenaline pumping.” Lexa’s voice was as gelid and stoic as her eyes. “It’s just curious that you still see it as that when we have been staying the night for over three months.”

Feeling exposed all of a sudden, Clarke sat up and pulled the blankets up to cover her chest. “We agreed that it was easier if you caught the morning train to your place,” she said defensively.

“I’ve got a drawer in your wardrobe, Clarke!”

“Not my fault you leave your clothes here all the time,” the blonde shrugged.

Lexa’s eye roll was worthy of some Olympic back flip medal or something. Were there Olympic medals for back flips? Clarke didn’t really know a lot about sports.

“You call me aloof and emotionally constipated, but I am not the one who keeps believing those easy ways out after three months of mornings after,” Lexa claimed, a hue of hurt in the rainbow of feelings in her voice.

Clarke was at a loss for words, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “We fuck. What’s the big deal about that?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, for Lexa just turned away with a huff and walked out, making sure to slam the door as she left.

*

They hadn’t talked for a month. Lexa had been keeping her distance: not coming any close to her stories, leaving Clarke alone to make the most of her own scoops. It would have been paradise, if not for the gaping absence of teasing remarks, insufferable smirks – any words at all. Clarke kept trying to steal some scoops for herself, but Lexa was relentless, never letting Clarke win.

In a fell swoop, Clarke had lost her fuck buddy and her rival. Every time she got to a place, Lexa would either be long gone or never show up at all. Journalism just wasn’t as fun anymore.

Clarke had loved the whole enemies/lovers dynamic, sleeping with none other than your greatest rival. After every hustle, they would fall into bed together, releasing their frustration and satiating their rivalry in each other’s arms, mouths, fingers. It was something Clarke had never experienced before.

Clarke was snatched out of her thoughts by a binder falling violently on her desk. She looked up to find Octavia glaring at her.

“What now, O?” Clarke asked impatiently. “Too much paperwork for your lazy ass?”

“Wow, Lexa really left your panties in a twist,” her brunette friend chuckled dryly. “Can you two please go back to fucking?”

Clark’s bewildered gasp and choke would have been funny if not for the situation they were in. “You know? she choked out in a spluttering mess.

“Of course I do,” Octavia frowned. “We all know Lexa lets you get half of her stories and then you two go home and fuck each other’s brains out. Or, well, did. Now you two just mope around like you lost your favourite candy.”

The knowledge that Lexa was doing just as bad as her gave Clarke an odd hopeful feeling. “She’s moping?”

“Of course she is. How would you expect her to react to a break up?”

“This was not– We weren’t even together.”

This time, Octavia laughed heartily, taking more than a minute to gather her bearings and turn to Clarke with a mocking expression.

“Sweetie, like or not, you two were dating for the past three months. You don’t do the morning after with someone you don’t care about.”

There it was again, the morning after. Clarke didn’t understand what relevance it had to the case. “I still don’t know why the morning after seems to be so important,” she grumbled.

Octavia just shook her head in disbelief. “You may be blonde, but you’re not blonde, Clarke. Don’t lie to yourself just because you’re afraid to face the truth.”

*

Clarke was determined to get this right. This story was Lexa’s, Niylah had promised, and she was going to get there fast enough to catch the brunette before she could leave.

She would also steal the story, but that was another story. Pun fully intended, Clarke decided in that moment.

When Lexa showed up, she was the image of beauty. Long brown curls tamed in a ponytail, her face was clean and open and probably what heaven looked like. Emerald eyes didn’t hide their owner’s shock to see her.

“Clarke,” Lexa half breathed, half gasped, eyes wide and lips parted.

Clarke had to remember the speech she had practiced at home, in front of her mirror, like a romantic loser.

“Lexa, I– Can we talk?”

Lexa eyed her suspiciously, but eventually agreed, with a discreet nod of her head. They headed to another room, making the interviewee wait for its five minutes in the limelight.

“What do you want, Clarke?” The hostility of Lexa’s tone made her flinch. She had a lot of explaining to do. “I will not go back to the way we were before.”

“I know, I know,” Clarke rushed to say, promising her memories of Lexa writhing under her that she would give them full her attention once she got home. “I don’t want that either.” At Lexa’s frown, she ploughed on. “I don’t want to go back to the way we were before, because I want so much more. I thought what we had was just an easy rivals with benefits situation. We would do the rivalling during the day, fuck during the night. You kept clothes at my place so no one would ever see you leave with the clothes of the day before on. In the middle of all the lying I did to keep myself from panicking, I forgot to realise that you started staying the night because I asked you to. And it went on for three months because I wanted you to. And I would ask and want you to stay the night because I needed to fall asleep and wake up next to you, because there is no greater feeling in the world than that of spending every hour of your day with the person you love.”

Lexa’s eyes were wide like saucers, but Clarke couldn’t stop now.

“That’s the other thing I forgot,” she admitted, her voice small. “I forgot that slowly but surely, I was falling in love with you.”

Lexa pressed her lips together pensively, letting the silence stretch before she broke it. “Why didn’t you tell your friends?”

“The same reason for all my other fuck ups: I was afraid. Telling them would mean they would be able to give me the advice I was dreading: that all those mornings after did hold meaning after all and that I couldn’t hide from my feelings anymore.”

Lexa nodded this time, still not making a sound. “Will you tell your friends now?”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile. “Already have.”

Another nod. “Are we still rivals?”

“You’re as much my enemy as when we started this whole thing.”

Lexa was sporting a small smile now, a crooked little thing that Clarke had always found adorable. “I would not have it any other way.”

“But Lexa, now you’re also my best friend and… If you give me the honour… My girlfriend.”

Lexa’s shy smile turned into a smirk. “Only if you admit that Polis is the superior newspaper.”

Clarke didn’t even gasp. “For you, I would quit the Arkadia.”

Lexa’s amused smile, however, showed she was just kidding. “No need. Wouldn’t want to end the rivalry, would we?”

In that moment – and the moment after, when she finally got to get reacquainted with Lexa’s lips –, Clarke knew that she wanted all the mornings after and the nights during and the afternoons before.

She wanted everything with Lexa.

🐘 Hip Hop Unit Reaction to Seeing You in Their Clothes ;;

WARNING: Complete and utter crack ahead. Read at your own risk. Oh, and swearing.

The details of this request were discussed a long while back ! ! ! I regret nothing. – Belle


S.Coups: All he wants is some peace and quiet. Impossible considering the circumstances, but a boy (read: ManlyMan) could dream. Practice was absolutely brutal, and tomorrow there would be a long day of variety show filming. As the thirteen boys stagger in to the living room and most of them fall into a doggy pile right there on the middle of the floor, they look up at him invitingly. He scrunches his nose, passing as he smells the sweat that radiates off of them. No, he thinks he’ll just have an early shower.

Seungcheol saunters over to his room, heading straight for the closet to grab a pair of pyjamas to change into after his shower. He slides open the door with ease, reaching in blindly for some clothes when his hand collides with a face.

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK. 

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Seungcheol falls backwards to the floor, a hand reaching up to clutch his chest in shock. “WHY THE HELL ARE YOU IN MY CLOSET?”

(A faint cry of protest is heard from Joshua in the background, protesting against his use of swears.)

For a brief moment, you look like a deer caught in headlights but you recover quickly. “Wearing your clothes, what else?” He screeches and you try to retreat back into the closet. 

Seungcheol ends up calling the cops on you and you spend 5 years in jail for stalking the poor boy. Sicko. 

Originally posted by biasfeelz

sasaengs aren’t real fans and don’t deserve to go home free say it with me

Wonwoo: You’re always seeing it with other couples on the streets. The cute couple jerseys, couple snapbacks, couple rings. It’s everything you want but sadly, Wonwoo isn’t having it. You’ve asked him multiple times before, but all he’s done is chuckle and shake his head. You understand it’s not exactly reasonable considering his **~~desirable idol image~~** but it doesn’t stop you from bugging your boyfriend about it. Alas, he won’t relent. 

You figure the next best thing is wearing his clothes. Wonwoo has tons of cute clothes that you wouldn’t mind wearing. And, well, you figure that rejection isn’t failure – failure is giving up. And there’s no way you’re giving up. 

So, one day you decide to surprise Wonwoo by showing up at the dorms unexpectedly. He’s lying back on his bed, scrolling through his phone when he catches a glimpse of you. He’s of course caught off guard but he immediately pockets his phone, flashing a smile at you. You ignore it.

You’re not here for him, you’re here for his clothes. 

Your eyes scan the floor for a familiar looking sweatshirt that you can steal, and when you spot one, you immediately pick it up and slide it on to yourself. You miss the look of horror on Wonwoo’s face as you slide it on to yourself before looking at him triumphantly. “MINE.” 

Wonwoo immediately gestures for you to take it off, looking partially disgusted. “Y/N you idiot, take that off immediately! Can’t you freaking smell it? Mingyu’s dog was in here earlier and he took a piss on it. He took his dog out for a walk, saying that he’d clean it up later. Ohmygod you literally smell like dog piss.” Your face lights up in embarrassment as you desperately hurry to take off the sweatshirt. Yes, you smelt it now. 

You dun goofed.

Wonwoo laughs at you for this incident for the rest of eternity. Nice going.

Originally posted by svt17-carat

Mingyu: “Oooooh, you look so cute in my clothes!” Mingyu sees you in one of his oversized t-shirts (what was basically a huge dress on yourself) and immediately goes gaga over the sight. He pinches your cheeks hard enough that you immediately regret your decision. You swat his hands away but he pays no heed, going over to your own discarded shirt and holding it up to the light.

“Do you think this will fit me?” He poses with the shirt in front of him, and you giggle a bit at the ridiculousness of it all. After all, there is no way any of your clothes would fit him. It’s a nice joke though.

Turns out he’s not joking. 

For the next week, you find Mingyu lounging around in all sorts of articles of your own clothing, stretching them all out in the process as well. 

“Mingyu, for the last time, you’re stretching out my onesie!”

“Mingyu, can you give me back my pants?”

“MingyU THAt’S MY UNDERWEAR.”

“Mingyu, that shirt is too small on y– no, you can’t just work it by making it in to a crop top. PUT DOWN THE SCISSORS, MINGYU.”

sux to suck sry ‘bout that.

Originally posted by fuckyeahmingyu

just really wanted to use this gif WHAT THE FA FA

Vernon: You call him to cancel your dinner date, hacking up a lung in the process. You’re terribly sick, and there’s nothing you want to do more than curl into yourself and die in your bed. The scent of Hansol is comforting, which is why you end up slipping on the t-shirt that he left behind earlier that week. 

You’re in the process of inhaling his scent when he comes strolling into your room, your spare apartment key dangling on his pinky as he balances a couple of boxes of takeout in his arms. For a brief moment, he looks surprised to see you in his shirt – it’s not something you would typically do – but he lets out a small grin regardless. He just finds you so damn cute, especially as you try to hide your actions by coughing and looking away. Hansol resumes his stroll as he slides right up to you, planting a kiss on your forehead and sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I told you before that there was no way we were skipping out on this one. So I’ve brought the dinner to you. How about I carry you downstairs to the living room so we can watch a movie and… eat.”

“Are you implying that we Netflix and Chill?”

“I wouldn’t say–”

“No, Hansol.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll just eat.”

Originally posted by mc-gyu

[AKA the one time that everyone else is crazy but I make Vernon normal]

His moods were contagious somehow
He’d laugh - and I would feel my entire world light up
And when he’s angry, when he’s hurt or sad - I would feel it in every cell in my body, down to my bones
Like we were connected somehow on some deep intellectual level
I catch myself sometimes wondering if our souls were intertwined in some way
If when we first met, before either of us realised it, his soul and mine recognised each other, and twirled together
Maybe - just maybe this connection went beyond skins and bones
Because it felt like a part of him was fused within me, like he got under my skin, to my heart, and attached himself to the very core of my being
I heard a poet say the other day about how easy it was to write with a mask on, to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, if I hide the words good enough and toss away the keys to this lock, could you still find yourself if it’s so deep inside of my flaws? You love it when people write about you, especially if I’m doing the writing it seems. I don’t write about you much, so here I am. One last poem. And I give your eyes a solid peek with every letter, a silent whisper that says nothing, but if you pay attention to my lips it mouths an I love you each and every time when you catch me staring at you and I look away. I wonder when I see you staring, do you do the same when I turn away my head? I love to write, but you’ll wonder if it’s about you, you, you, you, you or her, her, her, her, her or her. It’s about you. This is about you. You know who you are. In the first conversation we ever had, you asked if my favorite color was red before even getting into my head. And those eyes that peer, that leer, that steer straight into mine, we haven’t met, we have met, we haven’t loved, we have loved, we haven’t fallen, we have fallen, we haven’t fucked, we have fucked, we haven’t broken into, we have broken into, we haven’t written, we have written, we haven’t been, we have been, we haven’t talked, we have talked, we speak for five minutes and I feel like I’ve known you for several lifetimes and attention is such a trickling thing as it falls from my eyes and into yours– we haven’t been anything before these five minutes, but I’ve made love to your every way before we knew, before you knew, before I knew, we were kinda fucked. We made sure to not get too close, we made sure that it never happened, it stays as it stays, it says as it says, and one day, we’ll never be. She says I could never date a writer. And as ironic as it is, we’re both writers, so as enamored and as pulled to one another as we are, we’ll think about it when the sun decides to go for another eternal nap, and when the moon finally decides to give those love letters back with different people holding each cloud up, with separate lovers holding us, we’ll think about it until it hurts. And we’ll do it for the sake of falling in love, the art of the what if’s while you’re young and stupid, it goes like this. You are something that casts more deadly spells than a dark lord’s wand, that bends more trees than the wind during hurricane season, that breaks more often than a sidewalk during the heat of summer love, that admires more deeply than artists comparing themselves to Van Gogh, that swells more quickly than a mosquito bite because you forgot bug spray although it never works because they too find you irresistible from blood type to skin, that itches worse than eating something you’re allergic too, it’s often our favorite foods too, that stretches more than the horizon when the sun asks the moon to come out and play always, always, slow dance to that one song from now on, that sings as beautiful as the Mona Lisa when we try to figure out her smile, that still to this day, I choose to not talk to you because yes it’s true, I’m a little in love with you, and yes it’s true, we won’t ever exist at the same time, too many obstacles and yes it’s true, we live for poetics the modern romantics trying to be antiques inside of a masterpiece, we never knew how to love properly, so we tried to pave way inside of a kaleidoscope– if we ever fell in love, it would be a bad trip, like overdosing on lsd because you thought that you were a cactus and spines started to grow out of you, yeah that kind of fucked up. We would be messed up, but I think in some lowkey happy offset universe, we would’ve been happy about it. She talks to me about poetry like I invented it, the truth is I write to feel something, isn’t that why we do anything? These words have been written before, I’m just following footsteps, I’m just another person trying to write down my wrongs, am I wrong for it? And it was one of those days, some strange scene from an anime when the sun is setting and they’re walking across a metal bridge as friends and he comments on the days that go by without a second thought, and the water is running and she says that you can’t skateboard down slopes because you’d get in trouble, rules were meant to be broken, and if you don’t break them, you can bend them just right. And it’s that kind of day, where bookstores mean more to us than clubs. Neon soul, would you care to stay here as you are for just a little while longer? She speaks about poetry like it’s the only thing that matters. He utters back wildfire spreads wildfire. I don’t know why he said it, but it just felt right, right? And the day will end, but not before you walked us through two art museums and there’s always a juicy secret near the end of us whispering to each other about other people and what they’re up to. In this fairy tale, they don’t fall in love. In this poem, they don’t get together. In this life, they’re just friends. In this heart, they’ll be just two lost souls stuck on a bench, I’m a little tired, I’ll just rest my head on those shoulders, and I must tell you, that you look better without make up. There will a day when this is just a faded gem you’ll find in your brain. There will be a brief moment when you’ll remember those five hours, and it all started because of those five minutes when you asked if we have met before, and I know that I write long pieces with very shitty grammar and not enough elaborate metaphors, but the thing about my writing and why it’s so damn relatable may be because I write with a cold heart that just wants to feel warm, we all need that day. That day, that’ll indefinitely change us in ways that we may not be able to comprehend today, tomorrow or even by next year. A day that explains, a day that demands to be listened to and just like how a chest needs a careful set of ears to listen to its heartbeat, I’m glad that I gave a listen to yours. And maybe I’ll move out of this city where people do the same shit every fucking day and pretend that it’s okay, that this is it. We’ll work until we’re grey, get that 401k go on vacations while we’re fragile with an old passion for pastries, cheap hotels and some famous beach that all of the old people go to. There’s got to be more to life, you mentioned that a few times. This was just a glimpse to what could be with someone else, and I’m always holding onto your hands just a little too tight because I don’t want you to let go and it’s okay because today will end, but not in this memory. In this memory, we’re young forever. In this memory, we’re breaking every rule just a little bit. In this memory, I write down every little detail because I don’t give a fuck. In this memory, I play a slow dance with you until the moon finally explains itself to us in entirety. I’m full because of you, I’m empty because of you. In this memory, the metaphors never run out and the poetry isn’t just about love, it’s not about sadness anymore, it’s about clawing my way out of my thoughts and back into a moment where I’m not so depressed and I’m cracking jokes right next to you all the way down Central Park and in this memory, there’s a small chance that you could’ve been more than just someone who showed my heart around New Orleans. In this memory, I remember you as my pretty crimson. And if this memory shall ever fade, I’ll fade with it too because the more we write, the more we are, if I am what I eat and I am what I do, I’ll eat the yellow paint and write until it’s dark and if I’m ever blind and no longer the person that I was when I walked across that bridge with you– at least it’s an ending that I can dwell on. Poets write poetry, clouds use rain as a disguise, but this writer is just wearing another mask and tomorrow isn’t any different. I am the wildfire, and I’ll spread in many directions. I just hope that we never burn down together and if we do, that wouldn’t be so bad, right?
3

It wasn’t like you had planned to catch the attentions of a Rogue like Leonard Snart. You hadn’t even realized that you had at first. And by the time you really knew about the way Len earned his living? You were in deep.

You’d been working at The Motorcar your last year of college when you first met him. Len was a regular who tipped well for all that he mostly only ordered coffee.

Not that you blamed him. You’d almost starved with that job as your main food source. If it didn’t taste horrible, then it tended to make you ill. You weren’t sure why. You scoured the place, and it did pass the food safety code.

If you were any more superstitious, you’d say the place was cursed.

Len was a regular who wasn’t big on small talk, or wasting words in general. Everything about him was precise. His order, his payment, the seat he wanted, and when were good times to speak to him. You still preferred him to the drunks who wanted a show, or the kids too high to know if they even brought enough money to cover their order. Although at least they never complained about the food.

Even if the wisdom of sating one’s munchies across from CCPD left much to be desired. You figured it was some twisted inner need to be caught. Or it was a three foot eff you to the system. Could go either way really.

Every other weekend, Len brought his sister. It was the one divergence in his otherwise exact schedule. You’d notice him actually smiling - not the polite tip of the corners of his mouth, but genuinely smiling - from time to time when she was there. You made a point to never drift over while they were in the middle of a discussion. And perhaps because of that, at least in retrospect, they always sat in your section.

Your last month at the diner, you’d begged Lisa to come with you to a ballroom dance event. You’d been pulling so many shifts at the diner that making friends with your fellow college drudges attending over summer semester hadn’t been a priority. Going would net you extra credit, which you couldn’t overlook, but going when you knew absolutely no one wasn’t high on your wishlist. Neither was making a fool of yourself, but you figured you’d only see her one more time anyway, so there wasn’t any harm.

She’d gone, to your eternal relief, not making a big deal about it at all. In fact, she’d laughed about how the moving as a team and timing were right up her brother’s alley, even if it wasn’t hers. If anyone had asked you, you would have said the Snarts were good people. A little distant, but kind enough and certainly well meaning. 

In fact, you did say that when the police came knocking not long after, suspecting them. You didn’t see either of them for several years. Not because they’d been in Iron Heights - you thought they might have gotten out of those charges - but because you hadn’t been in Central City.

Len found you in Keystone, working for an advertising company that should have been the job of your dreams. He’d asked if you still had space on your dance card for him after commenting on the glowing character reference you’d given his arresting officer. And somehow that led to a visit to an art museum, and then you moving back to Central City to be able to see more of him.

You’d thought about moving back before. Central was home in a way Keystone had never become. It also had the PR nightmare known as S.T.A.R. Labs to attract your attention. So while Len sought his own adrenaline rush, you’d reached out to the skeleton team left with your proposal. Dr. Wells hadn’t found it necessary, but he had understood your desire to have a challenge. Cisco and Caitlin had been happy to have your help. Such as it was, anyway.

You weren’t a part of Team Flash, although you hadn’t missed their little meetings. Dr. Wells had confronted you about it early on after you had asked him in private if he wanted you to use that information to build up his reputation again or if he’d prefer the secrecy. The scientist had been pretty clear which option he had preferred.

Later, when Lisa seduced Cisco and then Len had tortured his brother to find out the Flash’s identity, you’d been summoned for another private conversation with the physicist. He’d been impressed that for someone so perceptive you hadn’t told your own boyfriend the Flash’s identity. Or hadn’t you worked it out yet?

Although, as it turns out, that conversation wasn’t quite as private as you’d thought.

“You’re dating Captain Cold?”

Turning towards the incredulous voice, you met Cisco’s gaze with a wince.

“I had no idea he was going to do something like that to you, Cisco. Honest. He doesn’t ask me about my work; I don’t ask him about his.”

“An interesting policy, to be sure,” Doctor Wells commented, his eyes laughing for all that his vocal tone was dry and serious.

“We were dating way before he got ahold of your cold gun,” that justification felt hollow even to you.

Cisco didn’t take it as any justification at all.

“Well, stop! He’s a thief. And a murderer, not to mention.”

“Honestly. You do not want to go the route of dragging up dirty little secrets,” you growled out in self defense. “It’s my job to know all of yours, so I can portray you in the best light. Or had you forgotten?”

Watching the interplay between the two men was fascinating. Dr. Wells polishing his glasses as Cisco looked to him for support. Which he did give but with a tired expression to indicate they couldn’t control your life choices.

Damn straight they couldn’t. Even if you had nothing really on Cisco, minus the fact he’d created the weapons used against his brother, which was a cruel thing indeed to mention.

Well, and the fact you’d heard by now just how Cisco was lured into begin with, and this was very much a scenario of the pot calling the kettle black.

 The dark glimmer beneath the professor’s gaze still had you rushing out an addendum quickly.

“Excepting, of course, boundaries like the identity of the Flash and what you do in your personal time.”

You grabbed your jacket and nodded politely to both of them.

“That said, I’d prefer what I do on my personal time to remain personal as well. And I’ve a date in precisely twelve minutes. I am sorry for what happened, Cisco. But I do prefer to be on time. Shall I give your regards to Lisa?”

You decided his blush was adorable. And apparently, so did Dr. Wells. He’d laughed anyway before nodding you on to go home.

Only eleven minutes until you got to see him again. Because dammit, you didn’t care if he was a thief and a rogue.

He was yours.


Prompt source: x

consider these:

  • there’s a long ass train and we’ve been waiting for it to pass for twenty minutes and you’re leaning out of the window of your car yelling at it so i’ll make some polite conversation au
  • i’m somewhere past drunk and decidedly lost and you’re a kindly local on a nighttime outing au
  • i ran away from home and knocked on the wrong door but you want to take me in anyway au
  • waiting in a holding cell together for our friends to bail us out and you’re unexpectedly cool au
  • are they staring at me or staring into the space around me i can’t tell and it’s intimidating au
  • i come here when i want to be alone and i didn’t think anyone knew about it so where the hell did you come from au
  • met you at a bar but it turns out you’re a soldier and you’re getting shipped into combat tomorrow au
  • gave a running hug to the wrong person at the airport and knocked you to the ground au
  • i’m a government worker and i had to seduce you for a case but i’m starting to like you legitimately au
  • you came to look at the puppies i have for sale and you’re so into it that i can’t help but kneel down and help you assess them au
  • walking between my s.o and you and i grabbed the wrong damn hand au
  • called the wrong number and confessed my love to you in a sappy way before you could get a word in au
  • we were studying across from each other in the library not acknowledging each other for hours and you passed out and fell onto my book so i’m screwed au
S/C ficlet - As the Light Fades

Well, shit. I’ve written another one. Just a wee snippet. 

It was a good day. Fic inspired by our players, Sam & Cait

All my other work can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/works

As the Light Fades

We raced for the light, like two kids on bikes in the height of summer, desperate for one more hour before our parents called us home. Cape Town had become our neighborhood, and the Audi, our Schwinn’s.

I had spent the day watching the sheer water of the pool, shimmer off her body, the droplets streaming along her skin like strips of wax, trailing a line down the stick, rolling over the curves and grooves of her body until they evaporated against her heat.

We had made love in the morning, with the wind blowing the sheers across our bodies, the Cape Town sunrise slowly revealing our nakedness to the world. Our climax came in unison, as the cool morning air tickled our skin.

We had drifted languidly by the pool, our lounge chairs pushed together as I gave into the quiet. With every weekend, thus far, spent in the mountains or at the gym, I had been ordered to relax. With a wicked smile and an appearance of her womanly whiles, I was more than happy to be brought to my knees.

Her back to me, she turned her head, and with a smile and a wiggle of her bottom in her silky white panties, she rose her hands to the sky. I watched as the yellow dress she chose, slowly stole her naked body from my eyes. I was jealous of the fabric and its delicate touch grazing her skin. But with little time to waste, I took her by the hand, and lead her out to her carriage for the evening.

The wind and the sun enveloped us, lighting the way as it glided us along our path. We had kept the music off, enjoying the therapeutic whistling of the passing breeze.

Her hand felt small, fragile, in mine. The callouses from the weights, scraping across her fingers as I held it within my grasp. I brought her fingers to my lips, kissing them, enjoying the moment. Enjoying my life.

She is light, and any darkness I may have held inside me, was broken apart and scattered into tiny pieces across a tiled floor, the moment she held my face to hers, kissing my lips softly, declaring her love for me. She had taken my hand, then, and made love to me in a way I never knew existed. Made my body ache and rejoice in her embrace. I was a man to her. I was a man for her. Gone were the days of bed-hopping and childish ways. I would make her proud of me. Proud to be a part of me. And in her pride, is where I would find my own.

I glanced down her body, the yellow dress dancing in the chaos of the wind. She grinned and nodded her head forward.

Steady Heughan. You’re driving, mate.

We awaited the sunset through whirls of dust and cries from the passing cars. I rested heavily against the car frame, her back pressed tightly against my chest, as we watched the sun’s glow descend into the ocean. The wind wept around us, and with feet firmly on the ground, it took us away. In that setting sun, we were lovers. Nothing more, and nothing less. I rested my head upon her shoulder, pulling her in tighter, her body sinking into mine. With her hair whipping to and fro, I kissed behind her ear, feeling her pulse speed up, and her fingers relax in mine.

There is a kind of sadness to a sunset. As the light fades, it seems to take a piece of you with it. The happiness and peace you felt as the pink and purple hues painted the skies, gets pulled beneath the waves, never to break the surface again.

There is no sunset ever the same. Such is our love. I had thought I had loved before. But nothing stole me away as she did. Nothing made my body ache, the way hers did, when we were parted. She was always my first thought before my eyes even looked upon the morning glow; and the last one that would steal me away into sleep.

Our love was a single, never-ending sunset. No other could be the same.

With a heavy sigh, we said goodnight to the light. I took off my over-shirt and wrapped it around Caitriona’s shoulders, as she turned in my embrace. I hugged her close, closing my eyes, feeling her breath against me. Her hands lowered, delving into the back pockets of my jeans.

I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to push her body across the hood of the car, her skin naked against the heated metal. I wanted to dive between her thighs and have cries of my name from her lips, carried off with the wind. I would claim her body and to hell with all those that passed us by. She would push her hands up under my shirt, and drag her nails across my nipples, calling me forth, and our passion would paint the stars in brilliant colours of pink and blues and it would be us that would slowly fade from sight as the light would, once again, claim the land from darkness, across the Earth.

But with a shiver and sigh, I was pulled from my thoughts. I kissed her lips, lingering in her sweetness, before guiding her back into the car.

She undressed before me, in the bungalow. The dress pooled around her ankles and the panties, with a flick of her foot, were sent flying across the room. She giggled in euphoric bliss, taking my hand and undressing me. I did not help her. She earned every inch of my nakedness as I let her peel away my clothes, with a smile across my face. She took my hand in hers, guiding me to the pool outside. I flicked off the outdoor light; and as the light faded, our bodies slowly slipped beneath the surface and out of sight.

i. over and over i’ve told myself: i can’t find a home in a person.
i’ve thought it and whispered it and howled it so much
that it had become my own personal mantra:
i can’t find a home in a person.
it’s too dangerous.
i will break.
or you will break.
or we will break each other
and we won’t be able to put the pieces back together—
not in the same way—
we’ll both come out different than we were,
before we decided that “love” was a good idea.
there’s not much we can do to prevent that
other than stop it from happening in the first place.
so i don’t find homes in people;
in fact, i don’t find homes in much of anything anymore.
my cousin comes along and i think,
“he can’t be an exception. he’s family but he’s not
because he’s been absent for seventeen years.
but i still can’t hurt family, even if i’ve never seen them before,
because they’re family and you don’t fuck with family.
don’t get close. don’t take refuge in that.”
and it works. until it doesn’t.
some drunk assholes threaten my cousin’s safety
and the next thing you know,
i see red and i’m locked in juvie.
except: i’m fine with that.
anything to keep my distance, right?
anything to stop myself from finding a home in somebody.
but then my brother comes along and i think,
“he can’t be an exception either. he’s not me, 
but he is at the same time,
and that’s worse than loving a stranger
because i can’t stand to see myself shatter twice.
keep him away. make him hate me. make him despise me.
anything, anything–
just don’t get close. don’t take shelter in him.”
and it works. until it doesn’t.
we’re the same but we’re not
and we’re more alike than we’d care to admit. we grow close.
we get attached. family is suddenly more than just an empty word
in the dictionary of my life.
except: i’m fine with that.
at least i got to delay the heartache, right?
but then YOU comes along. and i think,
“now he really can’t be an exception.
he’s nothing. no— less than nothing.
he’s just a boy — albeit a problematic one — but at the same time,
he feels like falling and i’m terrified of heights.
i’m not ready for this — for him —
for somebody who can make a difference in my life.
he wasn’t part of the plan.”
and it doesn’t work.
i find my home.
i’m pushed off that cliff,
and i fall
all
the
way
to
the
ground
(splat.)
(i knew finding a home in a person could be a dangerous thing– that it would hurt, that i would break or you would break or we would break each other.
but i wasn’t aware that it would hurt this badly.)


ii. we had both disappeared in the modern age:
fell into nihility,
became nullity.
you had dropped your name and dropped yourself in the process:
practiced shrinking; mastered not-existing;
took up muteness and swallowed down your clamors.
while you were running away from the life you never had,
i was busy taking refuge in myself,
and grasping the technique of speaking without talking.
i stayed holed up in bedroom after bedroom,
juvie cell after juvie cell,
closing my eyes and pretending i was anywhere but there.
you stayed on the road,
i stayed in my head.
until the people we once knew forgot our names and faces,
until we were both a distant figure
in the rearview mirrors of their lives.
until “andrew” and “nathaniel” weren’t people.
until nobody cared.
until nobody asked.
we were gone.
we were ghosts.
we were lost.
we were lost.
until–
we were found.


iii. i don’t believe in god,
but i swear every time your hips
meet mine,
i feel so magnificent and blessed and ethereal,
i think that maybe we are something holy and good:
apart of a greater plan
that we cannot even begin to understand our place in.
i will scream your name like a invocation to god himself,
and summon a convocation
of everything sacrosanct and divine,
until all the heavens knows your goddamn name.
neil, neil, neil, neil, god yes, neil, neil, neil
neil, neil, neil,
neil, neil,
neil


iv. a lament for icarus:
i look at you and sometimes wonder,
“how did icarus not see it coming?”
he loved the sun, sure.
she’s bright and brilliant and so impossibly blinding that it’s hard
not to bestow yourself to her.
but you’d have to be stupid not to see how dangerous she could be;
how easily you could be taken advantage of;
how easily you could get burned.
it’s an ever-present threat, looming just over the horizon.
and yet– icarus crashed and burned and died and now poets can’t stop singing his song.
sometimes i think that,
sure, icarus loved the sun,
but maybe that was the point.
maybe he was tired of breathing without living—
tired of inhibiting a body that he felt like a house-guest in.
maybe icarus didn’t forget his wings were constructed of wax.
maybe he just didn’t care.
maybe he saw the sun and saw everything else the world had to offer,
and decided that ‘everything else’ just wasn’t good enough.
because I, too, look at you and think,
“yeah. i’d burn for you. any day, any time, i’d burn for you.”
'everything else’ is just an afterthought.


v. love
/ləv/
noun
1. background noise
2. too many emotions, not enough words
3. valentine’s gimmick
4. hallmark card
5. stay.
6. don’t go.
7. welcome home.

—  3/? Five Things Andrew Wants To Tell Neil (And Eventually Will) Part One, Part Two (via deadravenkings )
A Long Overdue Conversation

A/N- The second part of Long Lost Sister. I recommend reading the first part.

Here’s a second part because @winchesters-favorite-girl was right :D

*Let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my future work*

Long Lost Sister Masterlist

Masterlist 

Sam and Dean stood there with their mouths hanging open. No, there was no way the young women standing in front of them could be Y/N. She’d been off at school when the ghouls had gotten Adam and their mom, hence why she was still alive; so how had she become a hunter?

“Well, I’d say it was nice to finally meet you, but that would be lie.” Y/N gave a small nod and started to head back up the hill toward the road.

“Wait!” Sam sprinted forward and grabbed her arm, stopping her in place. Sam turned her back around to face himself and Dean. “You can’t just walk off.”

Y/N gave him a confused look, “Why not?”

“Why not?” Dean asked. This kid wasn’t serious was she? “Because you just announced that you’re our sister. You don’t think we were just going to let you skip off now did you? Especially if you’re hunting.”

Y/N huffed and then paused seeing the serious expressions they both had, “Wait, you’re not serious, are you? Really? You’ve know about me for years and haven’t cared before.”

Sam and Dean shared looks. Sam released her arm and shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Listen, Y/N, I know how it probably seems to you-”

“Oh really?” Y/N laughed. She angrily crossed her arms.  “I came home from school because apparently both my brother and mother had been missing for some time. Then I learn that not only are they dead, and killed by monsters, but so was my father. Then on top of that I learn I have two other brothers, that knew about all of this and not only didn’t care to track me down, they couldn’t even spare a minute to fill me in. But yes, I’m sure I’m not seeing it right.”

Dean grimaced, they hadn’t been trying to hurt her. They wanted to protect her and people around them seemed to have an especially short life span. Neither of them wanted that for her. Sam tried again, “Y/N, I imagine that was a lot to handle and I’m sorry, you had to handle it all by yourself. Look we can explain our side of the story and we definitely have some questions for you, but right now we’re surrounded by a bunch of headless bodies and morning is just around the corner. Why don’t we clean this up and go somewhere to talk?”

“Why should I go anywhere with you?”

“Because if we stay here we’re likely to get arrested for manslaughter.” Dean snarked. Sam shout him the bitch face; could Dean have worst timing?

“You should come with us because we genuinely want to talk to you. We could have just let you run off when you wanted to, but we didn’t.” Y/N paused; clearly very apprehensive about going with them.

“Fine, but you get to do the cleaning. I’ll meet you at the bar down on third street.” With that she turned and headed back up to the road.

“We’ll be there.”

Dean looked at Sam like he was crazy, “Dude, you don’t think she’s actually going to show do you? She’s going to run.”

Sam shook his head, “I don’t think so man. At the very least she has a lot she wants to tell us off for. I think that’ll be enough to get her to actually show, and who knows, she might even be interested in what we have to say.”

When the brothers arrived at the bar an hour later Dean still wasn’t convinced they were going to find their sister inside. Y/N had been more than eager to get away from the two of them, not that he blamed her; so the thought that she would come back to hear them out seemed like a long shot. Sam on the other hand was convinced that she would be waiting there for them. Dean just hoped his brother wasn’t wrong.

They entered the building and immediately noticed Y/N at the bar, throwing a shoot back. The pair headed over towards her. Y/N noticed them coming and turned back to the bartender.

“Three beers.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he smirked, raking his eyes up her body before placing the three drinks in front of her. Dean felt his blood boil as the bartender obviously checked Y/N out; he’d only known her an hour and he already felt protective over her. Y/N winked at the older man, “Thanks.”

“No problem sweetheart,” he leaned closer to her, bracing himself against the bar and Sam coughed, altering them to the Winchester’s presence. The bartender straightened up again, and moved back down the bar.

Y/N grabbed the beers and stood up, moving toward one of the booths in the corner. Before he could stop himself Dean he was asking, “Are you even old enough to be drinking?”

She winked at him, “According to my federal agent badge I’m 27. Also, I got us free drinks. You’re welcome”

“I’d rather pay for them then have the bartender undressing you in his mind.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and slid into the booth. Sam and Dean sat down on the bench opposite her. The siblings sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, sipping at their drinks, unsure of who should go first. Sam decided to get it over with and ask a question.

“How did you start hunting? How did you even find out about hunting? Adam didn’t have a clue until, well, you know.” Y/N looked down at the mention of her brother, picking at the label on her beer.

“There was a werewolf in town. Hunters came around asking questions. One of them recognized Dad from a picture I had up in the house. They then accidentally filled me in on the truth; they assumed that if I was John Winchester’s daughter I knew about monsters. They also told me about both of you, what happened to Adam and how you two idiots almost ended the world, the first time. You guys seemed to have done that quite a few times, huh?”

“You know about that?” Sam asked, slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I know about all of it. You guys are kind of hunting legends. Hunters talk about you all the time and if they’re not, all you have to do is ask. They have no problem educating others on all the good- and bad you guys have done.”

“That must have been a lot to process,” Sam smiled at her sympathetically.

“As I got more and more into hunting I learned more. The hardest part was accepting what happened to my mom and Adam.” Y/N smiled down sadly at her beer, bringing it back up to her lips again.

Sam felt bad for her. Sure, Dean and him had had a hard life, but at least they had each other, Y/N was left all alone. All her family, except for him and Dean was dead. Sam knew how that felt. It was how he felt when Dean died and especially when Dean went to Purgatory. A part of him blamed himself and Dean. How would things have worked out if they had gone to her after he got freed from the cage, or even after they found out the ghouls had killed the rest of her family? She had become a hunter anyway, even though they had kept their distance to avoid that.

“We’re sorry about it. About all of it, and I’m sorry if us staying away made that worse in any way. We were trying to keep you safe, just like Dad was before us. Hunting is dangerous. That’s why he never told you what he did and that’s why we stayed away. The ghouls were handled and we thought you were safe; that you were away from it all.”

Y/N scoffed, “I was alone. The only family I had ever known was all dead. Doesn’t seem like it was best for me.”

Dean leaned forward across the table toward her, “Kid, being close to Sam and I… well life doesn’t turn out so great for the people we care about. Their either all dead or they’ve suffered through a lot of pain because of us. We wanted to save you from that. Trust me, we did what we thought was best. It wasn’t because we didn’t love you or want to meet you; it was just the opposite. We wanted to keep you safe and the best way to do that is for you to be as far away from hunting and us as possible.”

“I think what Dean is trying to say is that at the time it was the only thing we knew to do. Dad had so perfectly managed to keep you and Adam from the life before we hoped maybe we could keep you from it by staying away.” Sam continued. He looked over at Dean who just nodded. “But now that you’re in the life, now that we’ve meet you, well we’d like to continue to get to know you. Why don’t you come with us? We can hunt together, we even have a house, of sorts, you can have your own room and everything.”

Y/N sat there with a shocked look on her face. She’d meet her brothers maybe two hours ago tops and now they were inviting her to move in with them? “You want me to move in with you and hunt with you?”

“Well you’re sure as hell not hunting by yourself anymore.” Dean exclaimed and Sam stepped on his foot under the table.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at Dean, “Excuse me? I don’t need your blessing, thanks though.”

Sam quickly jumped in, trying to smooth over the rising tension, “I think what Dean meant is that hunting can be dangerous, and while you’ve proved yourself more than capable I think we’d both feel more comfortable if you’d didn’t hunt along. And preferably with us. Not to mention having you live at the bunker with us gives us all a great opportunity to get to know each other better.”

“So what do you say?” Dean grinned at her.


tags: @27bmm  @exploratiionist   @iamflanneltrash   @fabulouslycassie   @nothingiswrongwithit

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Aw geez.. hunted this out, one of my old drawings back in 2012 when I was 16 , back then the hype for generations was real! 🌟😁🤘

I gave this to my boyfriend Sean ,back then when we were major crushing on one another way back before we got together as a couple The coloured pencils have faded over time but I remember how frustrating it was to draw text lol 😆✏️✨ @sonicthehedgehog

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“We don’t need karaoke or to be drunk to- to be silly, trust me. We just did it in the photoshoot, trust me, it goes down between us.”  [x]

Always You- Kili (Part Three)

Pairing: Kili/OC

Prompt: sango-hentaitenshi asked:
Can I request a Kili x Reader where Kili thinks she’s into Fili and it takes someone pointing it out to him that it’s KILI the reader is really crazy for? Bonus points if Fili knows this and uses it to wind Kili up and flirts hella hard with Reader. Thank you!

A/N: Last part! Eek!

Part One  Part Two


I had known there was an entire world beyond my front door, but never had I imagined a place as beautiful as Rivendell. The word paradise had come to mind the moment we had stepped out from the cliffs to see the city waiting below us. Waterfalls, trees that twisted toward the sky, lush gardens, buildings beautifully crafted from stone. Almost as beautiful as the elves who resided there.

I sat curled up on the stone floor, my back resting against the wicker chair Kili was lounging on. The warg riders felt like a distant nightmare, now that I was safe and fed. 

“There’s part of me that wishes I could stay here forever.” I admitted, glancing up at Kili.

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