Carmela. 16. I cry over fictional characters on a daily basis.

hermionesmydawg:

Don’t look at her.
Everything is heightened, from the blinding sun to the smell of gunpowder and the coppery taste of blood he thinks will never leave his mouth. The taste of revenge, of killing one of his torturers, should have cleansed his palate. It didn’t.
Look at him, you killed him.
There’s so much medicine coursing through his veins that everything is a blur. He’s not even sure how he ended up here, he just remembers the one thing on his mind: save the team and save Michelle so that his pain is worth something. So his life is worth something.
Is he even dead? Maybe he’s not dead. You hope he’s not dead, don’t you?
But he still hurts, everywhere. He wonders why they didn’t just kill him when they had the chance. It would have been too merciful, he supposes.
Put your gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, just to make sure he’s dead. Fill his mouth with blood too, watch him suffer like he watched you.
"Deeks, are you okay? What…" Kensi is looking at him in amazement, either from the surprise of his appearance on the rooftop or shock that he was able to pull himself together enough to fire his weapon. Even he doesn’t know he how was able to do it.
Do something. Lie. Just don’t look at her.
He struggles, trying so hard not to look at the face that gave him a reason to live when he just wanted to die. When he sees her now, he can’t separate the image of her from the pain anymore. How can he make it go away? He needs to make it go away.
Maybe just for a second. You really do love her smile.
"I’m good." He swallows and tries not to retch. "You good?"
"Yeah. I’m good." And she smiles.
Look away before she sees what you’ve become. You might never see her smile again.

hermionesmydawg:

Don’t look at her.

Everything is heightened, from the blinding sun to the smell of gunpowder and the coppery taste of blood he thinks will never leave his mouth. The taste of revenge, of killing one of his torturers, should have cleansed his palate. It didn’t.

Look at him, you killed him.

There’s so much medicine coursing through his veins that everything is a blur. He’s not even sure how he ended up here, he just remembers the one thing on his mind: save the team and save Michelle so that his pain is worth something. So his life is worth something.

Is he even dead? Maybe he’s not dead. You hope he’s not dead, don’t you?

But he still hurts, everywhere. He wonders why they didn’t just kill him when they had the chance. It would have been too merciful, he supposes.

Put your gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, just to make sure he’s dead. Fill his mouth with blood too, watch him suffer like he watched you.

"Deeks, are you okay? What…" Kensi is looking at him in amazement, either from the surprise of his appearance on the rooftop or shock that he was able to pull himself together enough to fire his weapon. Even he doesn’t know he how was able to do it.

Do something. Lie. Just don’t look at her.

He struggles, trying so hard not to look at the face that gave him a reason to live when he just wanted to die. When he sees her now, he can’t separate the image of her from the pain anymore. How can he make it go away? He needs to make it go away.

Maybe just for a second. You really do love her smile.

"I’m good." He swallows and tries not to retch. "You good?"

"Yeah. I’m good." And she smiles.

Look away before she sees what you’ve become. You might never see her smile again.

These women crush Wednesdays. { x }

Do you have a favorite memory or favorite line that comes to mind? (x)

Happy Birthday Barrett Foa. 18/9/77

"My regular partner must have been a gurkha in a past life…"

"He must be very brave."

inbothworlds:

the team; (inspired by: x)
G. Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Marty Deeks