#reapred

    she  has  to  stand  on  the  tops  of  her  toes  to  reach  his  face,  and  even  then.  grell’s  fingers  ball  into  the  forefront  of  his  tee  shirt,  peering  out  from  the  sides  of  his  weathered  jacket  and  the  striped,  unbuttoned  long  sleeve  beneath.  coaxing  sam’s  head  down  just  enough  to  comfortably  find  his  lips.  the  razor  threat  of  her  teeth  grazes  the  soft  middle  of  his  lips,  perhaps  as  a  delicate  reminder  of  her  inhumanity  (and  that  it  would  be  easy  to  tear  flesh  and  meat,  yet  she  chooses  not  to).  sam  seems  unbothered,  though,  sweet  conjoin  of  warmth  and  skin  propelling  him  to  reach  his  scarred  hands  out  with  a  waning  slowness,  letting  one  settle  upon  the  side  of  her  hip.  lured  back,  sam  departs  first,  but  only  to  deeply  breathe,  limited  by  human  need,  his  lungs  just  shy  of  aching.  

@united-smash​ seagull carries overwatch on his shoulders like atlas carries the world, without him it shall all crumble to dust

His anger is palpable, it is a lightning bolt from across the room in the form of a dagger lodged in the wall. She exists outside of the realm of consciousness he has inhabited all his life and she does well to remind him of that fact every time their paths cross. Now he exists as a permanent phantom pressed into her cloth, staining her presence with a reminder of the myth--John Wick is a global shadow, a thing of infinite nightmares. 

❝  do you ever stop talking? ❞

either way i get payed so, better decide quick tumblr dashboard