Where have all the good men gone And where are all the gods? Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn And I dream of what I need (x)
So apparently my theme for today is to just think about Dean scamming his friends and Cas just whatever about it.
Don’t think about Dean making another bet with another friend when they spot Cas in the campus’ cafeteria getting some tea. And Dean is just, “check this, I bet you 50 bucks that I can get Novak’s study guide notes and you know, his number and an ass grab.” And the friend just bursts out laughing like, “Dean, do you think I’m an idiot? Novak doesn’t lust after anyone who isn’t a 1,200 word book on a dusty shelf in the library.”
And Dean holds out his hand like, “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
So like before, the friend takes the bet and grabs a table to watch Dean’s downfall and epic demise of being crushed by the infamous Castiel Novak who turns down everyone’s advances.
Dean, being the sly fox that he is, just goes up to Cas by the counter where he’s waiting for his tea and leans close to his ear and whispers, “okay, okay, I know I said I’d stop with the bets when my friends figured out we’re dating but my friends are dense like me so babe, there are still a few who haven’t caught on.”
And Cas just sighs and goes, “you’re an awful friend.”
Then Dean just smiles and steps into Cas’ space and puts his hands on his hips and goes, “but you like me and quite frankly that’s all that really matters.” Then Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean kisses him and his hands slip down and just GRABS THE BOOTY and the friend is choking on air because WHAT?!
AND Dean just smiles and goes, “I was wondering, you mind if I borrow your biology notes for our test next week?”
And Cas shakes his head like, “no, I don’t mind. You’re not going to use them anyway. You’re better at biology than I am. So I’m assuming this is apart of your hustle?”
And Dean just grins and pulls away some before kissing Cas’ cheek. “Yeah.”
“Hustle on then.” And he just gives him the notebook and kisses him on this jaw before grabbing his tea.
And Dean grinning at Cas like, “I found me the one who respects the hustle.” And it doesn’t get any better than that for Dean.
I can’t stop thinking about how good Percy is to Vex.
For a man who doesn’t show his emotions often, it’s apparent around Vex that he has the utmost respect and love for her. Her death still seems to haunt him in the fact that he makes a point to make sure that she gets the respect she deserves whether it’s from him, the party, or her father. It’s beautiful seeing two very broken people freed from the chains of the demons of their pasts so they naturally grow and heal together. He knows his love for her is real and not some short lived infatuation, but something he wants to take very seriously. He’s committing for the long haul. In the chaotic and unpredictable world they live in there is one thing Vex can count on; and that is Percival’s unconditional love
apparently the clalec discourse is rising again and i saw a comment saying that the multiverse theory states that there is a universe where alec is straight and i just…
i mean i am no expert but i thought that the point of the multiverse theory was that there are alternate universes where choices that we make play out differently and because sexuality is not a choice we can say that alec lightwood is gay in every universe. the end
anyways stop making ignorant fucking posts about “binary privilege” just because someone said their pronouns were meme/memer/memeself doesn’t mean we’re more oppressed than binary trans people
ps: it isn’t “truscummy” to say that binary trans people aren’t privileged over nb people, especially when I myself am a nb person who is anti-truscum. more visibility does not equal more privilege and it doesn’t make me (or the other nb people who agree with me) truscum for telling to you fucking stop
the uni paper is doing an lgbt+ issue so i wrote them a piece about being ace/aro and apparently i might be on the front page??? my first printed piece and i’m making the cover??? is this what validation feels like
So apparently the front-runner is Asa Butterfield! Ignore all the shit about “Ugh he’s white” or “Ugh he looks too young” or whatever, he’s a great actor, has an amazing American accent, and if he’s chosen to be Peter Parker/Spider-Man I’ll be one of the first to go see the movie.
At the end of the day I just want a good actor. Excellent news!
Jemma Simmons + kindness/compassion
» “Those soldiers are just men who—” “Who could smash your skull open with a single punch.” “But they’re being controlled! Centipede is making them fight against their will.”
Apparently, her husband has become the biggest neat freak and just finished arranging all the silverware, plates and every other thing my sisters clearly didn’t give a damn about, so he thought he’d call me to show me and make me proud.
Rumple stood disconsolately at the end of the street, watching as his wife walked happily hand in hand with Will Scarlet (Will Scarlet? Will Scarlet? Will Scarlet? WILL SCARLET HOW???!!) occasionally stopping to steal cute kisses. He could not believe this had actually happened, no more than he could believe it that now she was apparently friends with the pirate. Jiminy H. Cricket, make one little teensy-eensy mistake while vying for ultimate power and suddenly the whole world was on your back. Not even to mention that his three villainess employers were driving him crazy with their constant demands for martinis and dry cleaning and details on the De Vil mobile. Rumple’s entire suit smelled like engine oil and he did not like it.
Yet after several long moments spent stewing in his misery, Rumple had an epiphany. There was still someone in town who loved him and might be happy to see him back and fight for each other as True Love always did, and perhaps he had to thank this shitty set of circumstances for allowing him to at last see the light, the fog being lifted. So he sped posthaste down to the garage, rang the bell, showed himself in, and as Grumpy looked up with timorous, disbelieving mien, cupped his unshaven chin tenderly in his hand. “Dearie.” “Rumpy-pumpy?” Grumpy shouted, knocking over his chair and springing into his glittery lizard-love’s arms. They kissed passionately, with a lot of tongue and lips and open mouth and beard, as everyone else fled from the nearby vicinity and afforded them all the privacy they could have wished. Then Grumpy swept Rumple off his feet and carried him upstairs to his room, which was covered in closeups of Rumple’s face from different angles, taken through the window of the pawn shop, and all labeled, “The Real Dreamy” in pink cursive. They made passionate “welcome home” love at first, but then, appetite unsated, broke out the kinky stuff and launched into BDSM with the dagger. Grumpy still had the toybox under the bed. Oh yes.
Welcome home indeed, Dark One. Now he was ready to take over the world. Rubber dagger-shaped butt plugs and all.
My dad just texted me telling me not to make any plans for the 13th because we were going to do something and I, of course, called him and was like “Hold up, what are we doing? Seriously, you gotta tell me.” and aPPARENTLY THIS MOTHERFUCKER GOT ME TICKETS TO GO SEE HAMILTON
I’M LITERALLY JUST SITTING IN MY KITCHEN SOBBING INTO A BOWL OF CEREAL RIGHT NOW I CAN’T WRAP MY HEAD AROUND THIS I’M NEVER GOING TO STOP CRYING