Neela: Is this something i’ll never get over?
Pratt: No. This is something that you find a place to put, and let it make you stronger, and you go on living your life because that’s all you can do.- 12x22: Twenty-One Guns
"i was thinking about what i would do if joe didn’t have a father and if we didn’t have… each other. and i realized that if we could get through this, we could probably get through anything."
“what’s going on?”
Someday I’ll wish upon a star Wake up where the clouds are far behind me Where trouble melts like lemon drops High above the chimney tops that’s where you’ll find me oh Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly And the dream that you dare to, Oh why, oh why can’t I?
These are the stories we make. The tales of how choices write and seal our fate.
For all my lovely followers. Inspired by some spoilers for 11x01/11x02. My muse’s way of dealing with denial. As usual I own nothing. <3
"I’m fighting for you, Ziva."
The Israeli air is hot, stale, and stifling; the same stagnant breeze she remembers from four years prior. His impending departure claws at her chest in the same way, rips open the same barely healed hole.
Only this time there is no anger to mask it, no rage to fill it in. Instead she pulls him closer; presses her face into his neck and feels her heart constrict tightly. The olive leaves around them rustle softly, and he breathes a heavy sigh, hands smoothing down her back. She clenches the back of his shirt with trembling fists; wishes she could climb inside him and forget everything.
Forget Fate’s endless vendetta against them.