Prompt: “Why are you looking at me like that” and Poe and OC friends to lovers.
A/N: Give me more Poe. This was so fun to write…best friends to lovers is my fav trope of all time besides love/hate I think!
“You really don’t have to sit here, Poe,” I said, casting the pilot a look from over my shoulder. “You gotta be exhausted.”
He was sitting on an overturned crate, chin propped in one hand as he watched me work. A crooked grin tugged at one side of his mouth. “What? And leave my baby all alone with you?”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing, but as I turned back to his ship, a small smile was on my own lips. “Honestly your “baby” might be better off in my hands than yours. Considering all the pain you’ve caused it.” I shined my light into the fuselage, double checking my work.
“Yasmine Elder was charged with first-degree murder in the gruesome
death of Darius Ellis, a killing prosecutors say was spurred by a heated
argument that turned physical.
The two were sitting in a van
shortly after Elder got off work early Monday from her job at an area
bakery when the couple got into an argument. As the dispute turned
physical, Elder — who authorities say weighed about 77 pounds more than
her boyfriend — allegedly climbed on top of Ellis and grabbed him by
his dreadlocks to gain control of him. Ellis, 26, was lying between the
bucket seats at that time.
“The defendant placed her knee on the
victim to hold him down,” Cook County assistant state’s attorney Joseph
Carlson said during Elder’s bond hearing Thursday. “There was a bottle
of bleach inside the van; the defendant and victim struggled with the
bottle. The defendant then poured the bleach on the victim’s face,
dousing him, and causing the bleach to go down his throat.”
eventually got off Ellis and left the van. Ellis drove himself to the
apartment of a friend, where he told multiple witnesses Elder poured
bleach down his throat. Ellis collapsed on the landing of his friend’s
apartment building and began to foam at the mouth.
He was rushed
to the hospital, but died hours later from his injuries. An autopsy
revealed Ellis had a bruise and abrasions to his left cheek and bruises
to his head and back as well as chemical burns to his stomach and
esophagus. Tests of the contents of the man’s stomach revealed his pH
levels — the measure of concentration of hydrogen in the body — were
between 12 and 13. Normal pH levels are 5 to 6.
Carlson said after the ambulance left, the witnesses walked
to the victim’s family home to let them know what happened. One of the
witnesses saw Elder walking near the home and confronted her about the
injuries sustained by the victim.
The witness told
investigators Elder admitted to pouring bleach on her boyfriend. She
“then laughed at the witness when she was informed that the victim might
die,” Carlson said.
Elder was arrested later Monday. At the time of her arrest, she had an injury to her hand consistent with a bleach burn.”
If she’s convicted I hope she gets life in a deep dark hole with no light
I met Sam when he came to the university library one afternoon. He was sweet, funny, and a little nerdy. It seemed like I never met nice guys anymore. And after my disaster of a relationship and subsequent nasty breakup, it was nice to be interested in someone again.
“So you’ve been in Amherst for a few days?” I asked, shuffling through discarded books on the table.
Sam studied the maps in front of us for a moment, before he focused on my question. “Yeah, my brother and I are working here on a job.”
“He’s all heart,” Laura had said of Clint once, fondly, a little mocking, as he puttered about making spaghetti with a toddler clinging to one shin.
Natasha remembered that, on the plane to Calcutta to fetch Bruce— remembered that night, salad with bottled ranch dressing that little Cooper got everywhere, Clint telling circus stories and burning a pot of coffee, tiny Lila falling asleep on her lap smelling like mud and glue.
She remembered— Clint had plucked his children up and put them to bed, and Natasha had snuck into the kitchen whose layout she had just been coming to know. When they got back from storytime and “no, one more! pwease!” Natasha had been curled up on the couch again and every dish in the kitchen had been clean.
Natasha remembered that when she watched the footage of Loki’s arrival— of his theft of the cube, the scientist, and Clint. She curled up in the bucket seat of a plane whose destination she was trying to force herself to care about.
Clint Barton has heart.
Natasha didn’t want to call Laura. She wanted to be Phil Coulson, and define need-to-know in the way that best pleased her.
When Clint was sleepy, pre-coffee in the morning, he fit his forehead perfectly into the curve of Laura’s shoulder. Natasha knew now where they kept all their mugs, and which ones Lila and Cooper each liked best for bedtime hot chocolate. Clint was crude, sarcastic, cutting, and Laura was even worse— she was just more private with it, quiet and pretty until you got close enough and she dropped a word or two about how she really felt about Nick Fury.
Laura’s number wasn’t on Natasha’s speed-dial, because that would be irresponsible. The digits were tucked in the back of her head. Like with Coulson’s and Clint’s, Natasha knew how to dial them in behind her back, with one hand.
She dialed with the phone balanced on her pulled-up knees while the plane rocked a bit with turbulence. Lila picked up, listing and cheerfully shrill, and Natasha buried her face in her knees because there was no one around to see.
“Hey sweetie,” she said, her voice perfectly level, her eyes screwed shut and her whole body curled achingly in on itself. “Can you put your mom on?”
He tells himself this every day, lists the things he is now able to do in a litany. I can go into a strange bathroom at a party. I can drink without needing to black out. I no longer shake at the sight of black and white tiles.
When he gets the “C” it feels like one more confirmation: I’m better, I’m better, I’m better.
Jeff is the only person who doesn’t look impressed when it’s announced. Kent knows because he’s a petty bitch, because he looked all around the room to see who was reacting how. Mostly broad smiles, chirps and laughter. Jeff looked blank.
The Audi R8 Spyder V10 plus from the workshop of Audi Sport GmbH is the fastest series-production convertible model from the brand with the four rings. Its unmistakable 610 hp V10 mid-engine offers intense driving performance and powers the quattro permanent all-wheel drive. The standard performance program, R8 bucket seats and many components made from carbon fiber-reinforced polymer distinguish this high-performance sports car, with its exclusive micrommata green paint finish giving it a cutting-edge look.
The top model sprints to 100 km/h (62.1 mph) in 3.3 seconds and achieves a top speed of 328 km/h (203.8 mph), an increase of 10 km/h (6.2 mph).
This will be a 7 part series with each part related to one of the “seven deadly sins” Part One
A/N: Thanks again for welcoming me back with such love! You babes are the best!
Summary: Before you get a chance to tell Sam what happened with you and Dean, Sam tells you a secret of his own.. Dean isn’t too happy about this.
Warning: Jealous Dean ← we all love a little jelly Dean every now and then. Fluffy Sam & Fluffy Dean ← do we need a warning for this? Angst. A little bit of angry Dean.
You lay there, your body limp, the feeling of electricity still flowing through you as Dean collapses next to you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies. Nothing is said for a few minutes. Both of you just enjoying each other’s presence, trying to collect yourselves
Dean finally turns over to face you, you turn to face him. He places his hand under your chin and kisses you, much more softly than before “that was” he kisses you again “amazing.”
You smile “yeah it was” you agreed and turned back on your back. “What do we tell Sam?” you asked.
You and I are just vagabonds in the
wasteland of dreams-which-never-happened. It’s really dusty here.
There’s grit in just about everything, in our hair, all over our car,
even in our teeth but that’s what the beer is for. We’re driving a
long and lonely stretch of desert highway it has me echoing a Bob
Seger tune in my mind, so I reach over and shove another 8 track in
and crank it up.
Our car is one of those long gold
Lincoln convertibles from the early 70’s. White interior, white
walled tires, and bucket seats. There’s gold chains hanging from the
rear view mirror and a sticky patch on the dashboard where a hula
girl was glued before I ripped her head off and threw her to the
I look over at you and you’re grinning,
making it difficult to swallow that last gulp of your beer. Your
hair is dusty, but it’s long. We’re poor but we’re going somewhere.
You’re looking kinda sexy with the wind and the heat and the beer.
Summary: Sam and Piper have a long night in the Impala.
warnings: like the kink says - marathon sex. Lots of sex. All positions (in a car). PWP.
word count: ~2100
Sam was determined.
For once, Dean was out of his hair, and he could let go and enjoy
Piper was cute, funny, flirty. She waited on his table, smiling coyly from
across the room as much as possible, without seeming completely easy. Sam flirted right back, pulling out all the
stops to ensure that he could let off some steam with the beautiful girl
Genre: STRAIGHT UP FUCKING FLUFF EVERYWHERE BECAUSE I LOVE FLUFF OKAY(and because I read a Jimin angst that was not okay with me at all). IT’S A GODDAMN ANGEL AU AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH OMG I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE IT TOO.
Blurb: What happens when a sweet and shy boy suddenly appears and seems to take over your world? What secrets does he hold inside and will you ever be able to uncover them? In this tale of love, the supernatural, and cute as hell moments, you can find out whether or not you and Jimin are destined to be together.
Word Count: 10,435
Reader x Jimin
Theliel: angel prince of love.
BTW, this imagine is dedicated to @joah-rangie because I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 💜🖤 Have fun reading this fluff filled post!
Mike Lawson leans back against the bar, a bottle of beer that had ceased to sweat nearly twenty minutes ago in one of his hands. His eyes scan the crowd, not in interest, but seeking out someone specific.
He finds her and one corner of his mouth tilts up. Not quite a smile, but certainly a hint of fondness.
Across the crowded room, Ginny Baker looks up from the conversation she’s having with Sonny and Blip, like she’s aware of the attention on her. His attention, specifically. None of the many stares pointed her way seem to affect her the way his does. Her eyes catch on Mike’s and that same tilt takes over her lips.
Mike quirks a brow and Ginny’s head ducks. She glances up and Mike shrugs. A smile, a real one, brighter than the neon signage decorating the walls, breaks across her face and Mike’s eyes roll. She shakes her head, finally catching the attention of the two men closest to her. They take one look at where her attention is, though, and there’s another round of head shaking.
Streetcars at Wrigley in 1935 by cta web Via Flickr: Lined up to carry Cubs fans home during the pennant-winning summer of 1935, Clark-Wentworth streetcars wait end to end, in both directions.
The last car northbound (lower right) is one of the original 600 “Big Pullman” cars purchased in 1908 by the Chicago Railway Company. Ahead of it are three front-entry 1929-model “sedan” cars, famous for their upholstered leather bucket seats. Heading south with a full load is a “sun parlor” car built by the Chicago Surface Lines in 1923.
Tonight is the Cubs 2017 home opener, defending their World Series title against the 2016 NL series rivals LA Dodgers!
Going to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field? The CTA Red Line, as always, is the way to go! You can also take the Brown Line to Southport or Belmont and a variety of bus routes, including the 8 Halsted, 22 Clark, 36 Broadway and 152 Addison (which also connects with the Blue Line).
The apartment you shared was nowhere near gorgeous. Rain leaked in front the ceiling occasionally and a rusty old bucket was seated under the stained ceiling in its permanent resting place. The couch, or what was supposed to be a couch, was bought from a shady yard sale by an equally shady man. The nicest thing about the apartment was the paint stained easel that he spent 99.9% of his time in front of. A creaky old stool rested next to the easel and held an old mason jar full of busted paint brushes. The apartment was as damaged as it was small. It housed one bathroom and bedroom, most nights one of the two of you ditching the bed and knocking out on the couch.