Thank You GQ I Am On My KNEES.

Reblog if you’re a Black woman, love Black women, are friends with a Black woman, are in love with a Black woman, are dating a Black woman, support Black women, or just really love flowers. 

STEVE ROGERS and SAM WILSON Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) dir. Joss Whedon

“Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war, we pray, stay the swords and stay the arrows, let them know a better day. Gentle Mother, strength of women, help our daughters through this fray, soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way.”

You have to die–for both of us now.

Lily Collins & Zac Efron matching icons.

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your tags for that billy/dinah post fucked me up. The actors chemistry eas wasted in season 2. instead we got a weird relationship with billy and his therapist who he didnt have half as much chemistry with as Dinah. T.T

[I think that they wanted to pull through withFrank and Billy comradery betrayed or what not first and foremost and stick tothe comic material as much as they can to please the fanboys? *lol congrats uplayed yourself cos I bet that most of TP demographic is here for KASTLE and sowho are you preaching to studio?*considering this is their swan song and we’remost probablynot getting any more content, still they went so bonkers withJigsaw retelling they could have easily dropped the connection to comic source entirelyand gave us Billy and Dinah’s excellent cat and mouse game instead, SINCE THISIS STILL WHAT MADE SEASON 1 ultimately as far as either of these charactersgo].

This is what should have happened.

He doesn’t remember much. Bits and pieces, justlike cracks on his face, crooked pieces that don’t come together at all. Hisbody is a map of scars too. He touches the bullet holes markings and remembersthe whistle of bombs, groans of pain, blood, stink of death and sleaziness ofbody tortured and broken. Did I do that? Or was it done to me? There are othermarks too that come with a voice: hoarse, ugly voice of his carers “You’resuch a pretty boy, Billy.” He screams. Inside or outside he doesn’t know. He’sso detached with himself, floating or drowning or both. And there are scratchesand bite marks too he clings to as the only shelter in this book of the historyof violence of the history of taking William Russo into pieces, his bodyis.  He remembers where they come from, She’s strong and fierce. Even thoughher body is frail and small. He towers over her and yet she grips him tight,pushes him against the wall, wraps herself around him and devours him. And heknows himself. And he feels free. And he feels good and powerful and hers.  She’s violent but passionate, she’s fast andunreachable but tender and desperate. She rarely lets him stay but sometimesshe does. And in her bed, wrapped around her, he feels like he never didbefore, like his heroin addict mother denied him to.

He follows her home. Watches her intently.Devours her words like confessions of the only truth he’s interested in, whenshe berates him.  Words like whips, god,they feel like caress to him. More, he yearns.

“You’re an asshole,” (sounds like You’re mine) “Anarcissistic bastard,” (he can almost taste venom in her voice inside his mouthlike her tongue licking into him to make him melt) “You’re gonna rot in jail, I’llsee to that, Billy,” (when she uses his name it’s a roar of fury but the soundechoes in his head like her ecstasy back then when he made her come with hismouth and she named him again  and againlike a new man, like HERS).

“I don’t remember much. But I know you. God. Iknow you,” he’s in her flat with her aiming a gun at him.  A well practicedmove, not only because she’s a CIA agent.  It’s more like they’ve been dancing like thisfor a while now.  You put a gun to myhead, I lean forward with a barrel touching my forehead like we’re foreheadkissing as I pull closer, to your gravity, to you, defenseless, in more waysthan one.

“That’s convenient, asshole,” they are moving,her hand trembles slightly (has she been drinking? For how long? Did he leavehis scars on her too? on the inside of her) and he looks like he’s bowing for her, speaking close to herface, a strange dance of lovers who want to kill each other, who want to goback to each other.

“Don’t be like them. You know more. You sawmore.  You know me. You saw me, Dinah.Say my name, like you do,” he grabs for her hand holding a gun and puts itbehind her back to pull her closer.

“Fuck you,” a breath against his lips. Afamiliar caress.

“You did, didn’t you? But it was more thanthis. It was everything I have outside this mask now. And it is everything youhave outside your bottle of scotch, Dinah,” he pins her to the kitchen counternow, she let go of the gun as it lands on its surface. She’s taunt anddefensive, like when he met her, he thinks. Thick walls surround her. But he’sbeen inside this fortress already.

“Sweet fucking words, that’s all you do, Billy.You talk, you lie, you use people. But no more. You’re on Frank’s list. You’regonna wish you ended up in prison.”

“And you’re just gonna let him take me, Dinah?You’re just gonna let him have your revenge?” he smirks, like he knows what she’sdreaming of, like he shared these dreams with her, like these weren’t dreams atall. Was he in her house, watching her and she just aimed a gun at him, neverpulling the trigger, because she needs the chase, she needs the thrill, sheneeds him, like this? Taunting her, challenging her, knowing her. He looks likeBilly back then. Like HER Billy. The walls break and she grabs his shirt, turnsthem around (she’s as strong as he remembers in his dreams) and pushes himagainst the surface now.

“You don’t know anything about me!” her growlswash over his skin like a purr.

“I know how you sound like, that wrecked sighyou do when you come. I know how you struggle to prove yourself worthy to yourdaddy every other superior you work for wears a face of. I know how you shutdown and break in silence when you were brave enough to give someone a chancebut he was taken away from you, right under your nose and you think you’regonna choke on this guilt,” he says it all to her ear, voice brimming with triumph,  and she burns inside, with shame, withlonging, with fury. He knows her. He remembers everything about her. And he hasher like this, vulnerable and HIS. She shrieks and throws a punch at his face,at his chest. Then a kick and more throws as he laughs at every hit that makescontact, like he’s drunk on her holy anger. She knocks him down (he lets hertoo) and she’s onto him with her claws, with her fists, with him lying on thefloor, giving in to her completely.  Likehe wants her to leave new marks on the ugly ones he has now on his face. Likehe wants her to rewrite those into marks that will matter. He will wear likebadges of honour. Like he belongs. Like it says: I am hers.

“Just like before. This I remember, Dinah.  I dream about it all the time. What do youdream of?” he says with mouth full of blood and she growls one more time andkisses it. Kisses him, tears his clothes, and then tries to tear his skin too(her claws leaving marks he arches to). This abandon between them is all redand black and madness, and somehow she only feels lucid then and somehow heonly feels like himself then. She growlshis name like before (naming him) and he gives in to her completely, likeletting her rewrite his blank pages.

After everything he’s a mess of half tornclothes, she didn’t even take off her pants (that’s how desperate she was, god,she feels like she’s burning again), he puts his arms around her (like a boyclinging to his mother?) and she lets him, pretending it’s a dream (even thoughit’s still admitting some of them end like this too).

“Sometimes you let me stay. I remember. No suchluck today, huh?” he chuckles to her hair, like they are lovers, like they arefamiliar, like they’ve been doing this for a long time. They have, haven’tthey?

“Frank’s coming after you, Billy,” is it awarning, to threaten him or to save him?

“More importantly, will you?” he makes her lookat him, like demanding a promise, like waiting for a confession.

“Just leave,” she untangles herself from hishold (from his hug?) and doesn’t look at him again. She’s going to see him inher dreams. She’s going to see him in her flat, again, too. And this thing betweenthem will never end, because it’s all the air in her lungs and all the memoryleft in him.

(And GOD!! What if Dinah does come after him ina way that she prevents Frank from finding him out before she does while Billyis handling all his tormentors from the past and being this rogue vigilante sortof a thing and what if it’s Dinah’s bullet that gets Billy in the end, after anentire push and pull game like this they had and she rushes to him as he bleedsout and smirks or smiles at her: “You did become an excellent shot, agentMadani. Castle’s gonna be proud of you. Don’t let him wear your father’s face,though,” she wants to kill him again but she also wants to yell for anambulance as he fucking bleeds out on her lap with that peaceful face like he’sfinally content? “I’m glad it was you. It feels like confession from you. Noone got that close,” he’s talking about himself and he’s talking about her andhe’s talking about them and her hands are covered in his blood and it doesn’tget more intimate than that. “Thanks for the memories, Dinah,” he rasps beforegoing still. Thanks for helping me remember what mattered.)

NATALIE DORMER AS ANNE BOLEYN ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴜᴅᴏʀs (2007–2010) ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ʜɪʀsᴛ

2x2 | 2x3

♡ㅤׄㅤִㅤ ୨୧  rafe cameron & his black girlfriend ✧

Solange, Johnson Family Vacation, 2004