came toe

Sharp and Toews: Better Together

The almost-kiss that never was:

It’s pretty obvious that these two have an illicit love affair going - just look at their guilty faces, caught in the act.

Need more evidence? Here:

The “I love you so much you little shit” smiles:

That time Sharpy Cam was three parts close-ups of Tazer and one part bedroom wrestling with Seabs

More of Sharpy’s horribly obvious pigtail pulling:

Tazer showing his affection like the weirdo he is:

The “let me flop onto you I am so in love” moment:

That time he put on a helmet and decided to headbutt Sharpy because, why not?

Tazer’s weird love of messing with Sharpy’s jersey:

When Tazer was precious and clung on to Sharpy:

So… the conclusion?

Toews and Sharp: better together

Eat nuts, kick butts! - @unbeatablesquirrelgirl

Basically @abileoni and I challenged each other to draw each other’s favorite animal-themed Marvel hero - I did Squirrel Girl, Doreen Green, and for me she did Patsy Walker aka Hellcat!! Go check it out on our Instas too!

DJ Tozier

Richie flung himself across the room to the other end of his large desk after having gently lifting the needle of the record. “You’re listening to the Rock Block with DJ Tozier aaaand that was ‘Hurt So Good’ by John Mellencamp and speaking of hurt, Eddie Kaspbrak you really hurt me but I’m hoping you’ll take me back?” Richie spoke casually into the microphone, not too close though so the sound wouldn’t fuzz up. 

“And now here’s…..” Richie flung himself across the room again on his wheely chair to find his notes. “ ‘Keep On Loving You’ By REO Speedwagon, requested for Julie from Adam, who’s hoping you’ll forgive him for kissing your sister.” Richie read the requested message while holding back laughter and changing the record, setting the needle down and taking off his headphones. He breathed a sigh of relief and bit his lip. 

He’d been building up all his nerves during his classes about asking for Eddie back on live radio…surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was only their college radio station but he put it out there anyway. He was expecting his phone to light up any second with texts from an angry Eddie but it remained dark. He frowned and waited for the song to fade out. “And this is DJ Tozier signing off for tonight. Thank you lady and germs!” He shouted and signed the show off with no problem. He pushed himself away and stood, forgetting the headphones were still around his neck and was tugged back violently as he walked away. 

“Shit!” He cursed and shrugged them off, storming out the door. 


Beverly was sitting in the courtyard with her legs crossed, sweating up a storm with Mike to her right. Between them sat a small radio they’d bought at a garage sale for just this purpose. Mike turned the dial off and sighed. “Richie’s nuts.” He shook his head and Bev giggled. 

“I think it’s cute.” She shrugged “I wish someone would do that for me.” She chuckled as Ben and Bill approached them. Ben put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up with a grin. 

“Poetry too outdated?” Ben asked and teasingly poked Bev’s shoulder. She tapped her fingers on his hand. 

“Never. Keep doing it.” She smiled and stood to kiss his cheek. Bill plopped down next to Mike and started to pull out all his homework. He set it down in a large pile as Stan strolled over, raising one of Bills books to his eye and browsing through it as he sat down. 

“C-c-catch Richie’s s-show?” Bill asked him and Stan put the book down. 

“I support him, so I turn it on but….If I’m honest, I put the volume so low it’s basically muted.”Stan said with a straight face. Everyone giggled and Bill punched his shoulder. 

They heard some distant shouting and all turned to see Richie Tozier barreling towards them, tripping over his feet and tumbling to the ground. He started to stand until Mike held his hand out and helped him. “You guys know if Eddie listened to my show today?” Richie asked, catching his breath and disregarded any possible injury he might have for what was important to him. 

The five of them looked to each other and shrugged. “Sorry Rich maybe he missed it-” 

“RICHIE FUCKIN’ TOZIER!” came a loud shout and all six of them shot their heads to the right and spotted the tiny Eddie Kaspbrak stomping over.

“Oh shit.” Richie went limp and stood frozen in his spot until Eddie came to stand toe to toe with him. He had to tilt his chin so far up to look him in the eyes, luckily Richie’s head blocked the sun. 

“Did you have to ask that on the radio? Do you know how embarrassing that is?” He crossed his arms and Richie bit back a grin. Of course he knew that, it was part of the appeal. The rest of the five watched them awkwardly. 

“Y’know me, Eds. I love to embarrass you.” He went to rub his fist through Eddie’s hair but he swatted him away. 

“We’re too frickin’ old for that Richie. Can we just have the fight I’ve been building up in my head?” Eddie pouted like a child and Richie nodded, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

“Does the fight end with you taking me back?” Richie poked him and Eddie sighed. 

“Possibly.” Eddie pondered it over in his head and answered. Richie nodded again. He took his hands out of his pockets and shook himself as if preparing for a physical fight. 

“Alright, hit me with your best Eds.” 

“You never shut your God damn mouth and you fuckin’ embarrass me any chance you get and never and I repeat, NEVER tell my professor I was late because I was dirtying it up with you ever again, you hear me Tozier!” Eddie stomped and their five friends gaped their mouths open, so that was the reason for the break up. 

“Dirtying it up? That’s not exactly how I phrased it, Eds.” Richie chuckled with amusement at the fuming Eddie who gave him an expectant look. 

“Alright. I agree. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” Richie pouted and brought Eddie closer to him. Eddie allowed it and from the background they heard Mike whisper ‘Ohhhh gettin’ interesting.’ Eddie shook his head.

“Ok, you’re officially taken back.” Eddie smiled and Richie picked him up and spun him around. 

“Yeah! I knew you’d miss me!” 

Eddie giggled and punched his shoulder. “Put me down, ass.” 


“This is the Rock Block with DJ Tozier and that was ‘Baby, I Love Your Way’ by Peter Frampton, requested by myself for my boyfriend Eddie Kaspbrak because Mmmm Baby I Love Your Way.”  Richie hummed in a sing-songy voice before signing off. This time almost immediately, His phone bore light into the room from Eddies texts.

Richie picked it up and read 

‘That was sooo embarrassing!! (Keep doing it <3)’

Richie broke into the biggest grin. 

yarrayora  asked:

ok but speaking of tintin what does his fellow journalists, the one working in the same newspaper as him, think of this adventurous guy

Honestly, I feel like it would be Complicated.

Like his fellow journalists feel like they should be annoyed with this guy.  There he goes, travelling all over the world while they’re stuck doing local news, probably thinks he’s so good getting all these far-flung impossible stories, it’s not like they can be real anyway he must be making them up, no one just fights gorillas in towers in Scotland that doesn’t just HAPPEN.  He’s frustratingly popular and his articles are always in high demand and he hardly ever seems to come into the office, does he think he’s better than everyone else?? fuck that guy.

That’s how people think they should feel about him.

Except for the little problem that Tintin is too damn likable for his own good.

Every so often a new journalist will get hired on, and they’ve seen this guy’s articles, they’ve heard the stories, and they’re all ready to be nasty (and jealous) of this guy… until the very next time Tintin comes into the office and they talk for like five minutes.  At which point you can’t help but like Tintin, because Tintin seems to genuinely and sincerely like just about everyone else.  Tintin absolutely thinks you are fascinating and he can’t wait to talk about the latest article you’ve been investigating about greengrocer price hikes and he might tell stories about his adventures if prompted but he’s so engaging and so humble about it all, as if being invited to fly to the fucking MOON is no big deal, and he just happened to be in the right place at the right time that every single reporter leaves feeling… well, not only good about him but good about themselves.

So yes, Tintin, despite all expectations and common sense, is incredibly well-liked by his colleagues.

It's my pleasure ♡ Grayson (smut)

A/N: Hello! :) so, I got a request for a thigh riding bullet point/would include but I wanted to make a drabble out of it because I didn’t had enough inspiration for a bullet point. Well, that didn’t really work out, haha… So this is a drabble/short imagine whatever you want to call it, but it contains thigh riding so I hope you enjoy. Xx

Word count: 1.120

This week had been so exhausting and you had been feeling really cranky as well. You had to drag yourself to work everyday this week and you were just done with everything. Every shift was so long that the only thing you wanted to do afterwards was go home and sleep for a few days. Today was one of those days.

It was currently almost midnight. The sky was dark and the stars were already out. You park your car next to Grayson’s apartment and step into the freezing cold. You had also discovered that winter wasn’t your favourite season. You wrap your jacket tighter around your body, lock the car and walk to the door of the apartment.

You let yourself in and bless Grayson for turning on the heating before you came home. As your toes slowly thaw you put your bag down. You don’t even take the time to hang up your coat and you throw your shoes next to the door. ‘I’m home!’

‘Y/N?’ you hear a sleepy, deep voice coming from upstairs. Your tired legs are somehow able to walk you upstairs and you almost triple, unable to keep your eyes open for longer than five seconds. As you enter the bedroom your bad mood is gone in no time when you see your boyfriend laying on the bed, eyes focused on the tv screen.  

Grayson Dolan never failed to make you smile, and certainly not when he was looking like the way he was… The pretty boy was showing off his biceps by only wearing a black tank top, his legs tangled in the sheets.

Suddenly you got this familiar tingle between your inner thighs, realizing to your surprise that you felt sexually aroused by the sight of Grayson. Maybe it was because you and Grayson hadn’t had sex all week (since you had to work so much) or maybe it was just because he looked extremely handsome, you didn’t know.

You walk up to the bed and crawl onto his huge body, burrying your face in his neck and sniffing up his scent. As always he smelled amazing. Grayson laughs. ‘Hi there, princess. How was your day?’

'Hmm… Not that awesome. But it’s already so much better now,’ you respond. Grayson chuckles and runs his hands up and down your back in an attempt to relax your sore muscles. It only left you feeling more aroused. 'My poor baby… I’m happy you’re back. What are those people at work even doing with my girl to make her feel so tired every day?’ he whispers sweetly into your ear. 'I know, right,’ you quietly giggle.

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look at Grayson’s beautiful face. His lips curl into a big smile when he sees the look you always have when you’re in the mood. He looks at you for a short moment before he cups your face, his plump lips immediately finding yours. You let out a quiet hum against his mouth, encouraging him to go on.

He kisses your jaw hungrily and slowly trails down to your neck and collar bones. You quickly change your position and lower your weight onto him, straddling his right thigh. Grayson places his hands on your waist and pulls you closer. You take off your shirt and Grayson starts to plant wet kisses on your shoulders.

'I’m so lucky…’ he whispers. 'Gray…’ you desperately say as he unclaps your bra. 'Take that off too,’ Grayson demands, pointing at your jeans. His voice was deep and rough. You could tell he was turned on as well. You do as he says and you straddle his thigh again, this time only wearing your lace panties.

'I-I want to…’ you say shyly, but Grayson already understood what you were planning on doing. 'I know, baby.’ 'Are you okay with that?’ you ask, feeling your cheeks warm up. 'Y/N. You know how much I love you. You can do whatever you want with me.’ 'You sure?’ you ask again. It was important that he felt comfortable as well.

Grayson nods. 'Yes. Do it. Get yourself off… For daddy.’ His voice was filled with lust and his eyes were dark. The last word made your heart skip a beat. He never used that word, unless he was feeling kinky. You gasp when he leans in to bite your lips, smiling seductively.

He kisses you again and you start to grind your hips against his thigh. A soft moan escapes your throat, only to be swallowed immediately into Grayson’s mouth as his soft lips continue to move against yours. The soft hairs on his legs tickle against your inner thigh. You had never done this before, but it already felt amazing.

The warm flesh of his thick thigh against your crotch and the softness of his skin made you feel so incredibly good. And the thought that he just let you use him for your pleasure was so erotic, oh God. This was almost better than actually having sex with him. Almost.

His kisses are getting deeper and rougher and Grayson’s moans sent shivers down your spine. 'Shit,’ he breaths out. All of a sudden he gently squeezes your butt. Your lips freeze and your mouth drops as you feel your inner thighs tingle.

'Gray…’ you mutter, feeling a knot evolving in your stomach. 'I know, I know… It’s okay. Come for me, baby… Come on,’ Grayson growls against your mouth. 'I’m so… close,’ you whisper and place your shaky hands on Grayson’s shoulders, trying to find a grip.

The touch of his hands that were exploring your body combined with the feeling of his lips was enough to drive you crazy; it gave your hips a life of their own. You cry out a loud moan; his thigh muscles flex and the constant rubbing on your clit was too much to handle. Moving your hips faster and faster your vision begins to blur and your moans heighten. Your hands fly to his hair and tug at it sharply.

Grayson nibbles on your nipples in an attempt to drive you over the edge. He loved seeing you please yourself and it drove him crazy as well. Finally you come undone, a indescribable feeling spreading through your whole body. You close your eyes, enjoying every second of the feeling you were experiencing.

'Just… like…that…’ Grayson smiles and gently runs his fingertips up and down your thighs. You sigh and allow yourself to collapse onto his strong chest once you become too sensitive to move any longer.

'That was… incredible. Thank you,’ you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek and lowering your face onto his shoulder. You hear Grayson grin quietly. 'It’s my pleasure.’

itsnotliketherearehillshere  asked:

JAMIE COMPARING CLAIRE TO THE SUN = ME, TURNING INTO A LAGOON OF TEARS, not only is that giving me Wedding feels, doesn't he compare her presence in his life to the sun in a later book? (I've only skimmed most, I'm a hashtag bad fan lmao) anyway I'm lovin' this concept of this being like, an established "Jamie loves Claire so much" thing, keep it goin', show! Keep it goin'!

She’s his Sorcha! His light, its such a beautiful comparison and yes it does pop up in the books! 

In ‘The Fiery Cross’:

“Sorcha,” he called softly, and she turned, eyes narrowed against the rays of the sinking sun, then wide and gold with surprise at the sight of him.

“Welcome home,” he said, and held out the small bouquet of leaves and twigs.

“Oh,” she said. She looked at the bits of leaf and stick again, and then at him, and the corners of her mouth trembled, as though she might laugh or cry, but wasn’t sure which. She reached then, and took the plants from him, her fingers small and cold as they brushed his hand.

“Oh, Jamie—they’re wonderful.” She came up on her toes and kissed him, warm and salty, and he wanted more, but she was hurrying away into the house, the silly wee things clasped to her breast as though they were gold.

He felt pleasantly foolish, and foolishly pleased with himself. The taste of her was still on his mouth.

“Sorcha,” he whispered, and realized that he had called her so a moment before. Now, that was odd; no wonder she had been surprised. It was her name in the Gaelic, but he never called her by it. He liked the strangeness of her, the Englishness. She was his Claire, his Sassenach.

And yet in the moment when she passed him, she was Sorcha. Not only “Claire,” it meant—but light.“

And also in ‘A Breath Of Snow And Ashes’:

“It’s a great comfort,” he said at last, “to see the sun come up and go down. When I dwelt in the cave, when I was in prison, it gave me hope, to see the light come and go, and know that the world went about its business.”

He was looking out the window, toward the blue distance where the sky darkened toward infinity. His throat moved a little as he swallowed.

“It gives me the same feeling, Sassenach,” he said, “to hear ye rustling about in your surgery, rattling things and swearin’ to yourself.” He turned his head, then, to look at me, and his eyes held the depths of the coming night.

“If ye were no longer there—or somewhere—” he said very softly, “then the sun would no longer come up or go down.” He lifted my hand and kissed it, very gently. He laid it, closed around my ring, upon my chest, rose, and left.”

 But I really love that Claire’s the first to describes him as the sun  in Outlander:

Suddenly the inn door opened, and the sun came out, in the person of James. If I was a radiant bride, the groom was positively resplendent.

They are both very much each other’s light!

Mile High Club (Ethan)


The Los Angeles air was cool as the time on your watch read 6:15 am. It was cruel for you to even be up this early, the sun wasn’t even out yet and you usually never stir until ten anyways. The Starbucks coffee in your hand was warm against your palm and even warmer sliding down your throat. You were almost convinced it was heaven in a cup at this ungodly hour.

You rolled your suitcase behind you, the heavy backpack on your back filled with your carry on accessories as Ethan sludged along beside you. Hell he wasn’t even used to getting up so early either. After all he stayed up until midnight editing and didn’t crawl into bed until close to one a.m. Poor baby.

Not even the all black attire he went for could hide the bags under his eyes. Getting through check in and luggage check was easy and now the two of you were sitting in the uncomfortable chairs waiting for your flight to be called. Ethan and Grayson were taking a much needed break from social media and deciding to head back home for a while.

It was nice seeing all their hard work and success take off during the last couple of years but they were tired and beginning to run on low energy. It’s a well deserved break indeed. Grayson had left yesterday morning, Ethan opting to stay back and wait for you to finish your last day of work.

Taking another sip of your latte you looked over at your boyfriend who mindlessly sipped on his Chai Tea and glancing around at the strangers walking through. It was too early for any of their fans to be out and about which was a good thing, you knew Ethan was in no mood for pictures this morning.

“You good?”

With a shake of his head, he looked at you. “I’m fucking exhausted. Remind me to never stay up that late to edit ever again.”

“Promise.” Giggling you leaned over and kissed his cheek. His skin cold against your warm lips. A monotone voice came over the speaker and announced your flight, Ethan taking your free hand in his as the two of you walked to the terminal behind a flurry of other people.

Once you were seated and your luggage was all tucked away, Ethan pulled out a blanket and placed it over your laps, the both of you kicking off your shoes in the process. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking horny as hell.” Gasping you hit your boyfriends arm.

“Ethan. We’re on a plane. If you wanted sex we could’ve had a quickie before we left this morning.”

He groaned as the plane took off, your knuckles gripping his as you watched from the window. Taking off was always the worst part and you had no idea why. “I know. Just wasn’t thinking about it until now.” He whispered, his sweaty palm colliding with your upper thigh as he continued to look at you.

The lights inside the plane were off, most if not everyone was sound asleep due to the early and chilly hours of the morning. It was another couple of hours before you were in Jersey and you knew Ethan couldn’t wait that long. “Well what do you want to do?” The idea started to grow on you and the more you thought of it, the more you wanted it.

Ethan had been so busy lately with filming and you had been busy with work that sometimes the only time you guys would be together was when you fell into bed late at night and by then you both would be too exhausted to even touch each other. Looking around he leaned over to your ear, “The bathroom’s empty. Haven’t you always wanted to join the mile high club?”

You shivered at his words. You had been sex deprived for almost a week and at this point it didn’t sound half bad. “I’ll go first and in about five minutes, you come on.” With a giddy smirk he nodded, giving you a swift kiss as you undid your seatbelt and made your way through the aisle until you reached the bathroom.

Going inside you propped up on the sink, taking this time to pull off your hoodie and sweatpants. The five minutes seemed like an hour and the door opened, revealing a now more awake Ethan as he shut the door and locked it behind him. “We have to be quiet babe.”

“Yeah, I know. Just fucking get over here.”

With a smirk he tore off his hoodie, coming to stand between your open legs. He caressed your face before kissing you gently. Kissing Ethan never got old in your book, his lips were so soft and plump and they tasted slightly of the Starbucks drink he had prior to this.

Your tongue slipped sloppily into his mouth as his hands went to your t-shirt, tugging on it and then pulling back from the kiss. “Can I baby?” With a quick now you lifted your hands and he took the shirt off, adding it to the pile of clothes already on the floor. His hands went straight to your bra strap in the back, he undid the clasp and tore it away from your body.

He marveled at your bare chest before smirking, getting back into the kiss and deepening it immediately. You let out a moan in his mouth as his calloused hands found your breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly. Your lips smacked together and you only worried about noise level for a second until Ethan’s hand slipped inside your panties.

“Jesus. You’re so wet for me already. Let me see you.”

He stepped back and pulled your panties off, your legs propping up on the sink as you revealed yourself to him. Pulling off his shirt he bit his lip and shook his head. “Let me just get a little taste.” He bent over the best he could and he licked generously at your dripping folds, you having to bite your lip to suppress any noise.


His name came out more as a hushed whisper. He looked up at you from between your legs and you could’ve came right there. He flicked your clit with his tongue before pulling back and pushing his pants and boxers down to his ankles. “Ready?” Nodding you lifted his shirt and he eased inside of you slowly, your head falling back to hit the mirror behind you.

Once he was fully buried inside of you, he wasted no time in beginning to thrust, jolting your body with each slap of his hips against yours. “Fuck.” The noise came out of your mouth a bit louder than intended and he kissed you to silence your moans.

“Be quiet my love. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”

“Well stop fucking me so hard.”

“I thought you liked that?”

“I love it.”

“Well then shut up.”

His hand clamped over your mouth as he continued thrusting. In this position he hit your g-spot perfectly every time and it caused your eyes to roll back into your skull. “Is that my girls spot right there? You love that don’t you?”

“Yes Ethan, I fucking love it.”

With a smirk he pulled out and pulled you down, bending you over the sink you were able to see yourselves through the mirror. Slipping one hand over your mouth, Ethan slammed back inside of you, your screams muffled behind his huge hand clamped over your mouth.

His thrusts were fast and sloppy and he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way your cheeks rippled from the force of him fucking you. “Look at yourself in the mirror, watch me fuck you.” Your eyes opened and you looked in the mirror. Both your faces were red and Ethan had begun to sweat as he continued his thrusts.

This was next level hot and you loved every second of it. He met your eyes in the mirror and winked at you, his hand leaving your mouth so he could reach under you to pinch and roll your clit with his fingers. Your body jerked and your orgasm built in the pit of your belly.

“I’m close, mmm, don’t fucking stop.”

“Don’t plan on it. Gimme that cum baby.”

Biting down on the skin of your arm you came hard, your toes curling against the ground as your pussy fluttered from the force of your orgasm. Ethan cursed behind you and released his load, his body shaking as he lied down over top of you, not too much though, he didn’t want to crush you.

“Welcome to the mile high club.”

And with that you two shared a laugh and a few quick kisses. Getting redressed and making your way back to your seats, surprisingly without anyone noticing your absence. Boy you couldn’t want to tell your friends about this. This trip was already turning out to be a good one.

Controlled {Kim Namjoon}

Prompt: 28 w/ Namjoon || Requests Open || Smut Game

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 760

Warning: quickie

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👑✨my favorite Jaebum looks✨👑  #8

       ↳ MBC Gayo Daejejeon 151231

attraction (m)

Originally posted by slapmon

pairing: stepbrother!namjoon x fem!reader

genre: smut

AU: step-siblings

word count: 2183

request: ‘Hi! Can you please do a Namjoon x reader smut step-sibling scenario where Namjoon is a dom and the sub and shy reader turns him on without even knowing and he just loses it and goes down on the reader?’

summary: Yoga pants pushes Namjoon to the limit 

He knew what he was doing, he knew that it was wrong but he couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that has him obsessed. You hardly spoke to him, mostly keeping to yourself with the occasional side comment. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or the way you’d wake up at odd hours to do yoga or maybe it was the way you were kind to others.

If you weren’t his stepsister, he would have asked you out in a heartbeat.

He couldn’t help but wish:

If only.

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I just had one of those moments that you see in TV shows where a whole bunch of mildly inconvenient but increasingly worse things happens to the main character in the span of 30 seconds and honestly right now I’m expecting to slip on a banana peel or have a car drive past me through a puddle and splash water all over me

A 6th Sense

For ages 18+ only!

Summary: Reader has long suspected that Dean can actually see ghosts and not just that he always seems to have perfect timing. So when an opportunity arises where she can prove it, she decides to have some fun with it. Things don’t go quite to plan though.
Characters: Reader/(y/n), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Crowley (brief)
Pairings: Reader x Dean, Sam x Rowena
Warnings: voyeurism, nudity, masturbation, teasing (sexual in nature), smut, pregnancy, lots of fluff
Word count: 6768 (whoops! lol)
A/N: This idea just sorta popped into my head when I woke up to go potty, one night, and it made me giggle. Its meant to be more crack-fic than a serious one lol… It ended up being way fluffier than I originally intended. And the plot sorta got away from me a little. And its a bit longer than I wanted it to be… But it was fun to write. I had a blast exploring this story with these characters. This was meant to be a one-shot, but I can add more to the story, if enough people want it. :)

You have been with the Winchesters for several years now. You have been a hunter your whole life. There isn’t a tragic back story. Though, if there had been, you would still be proud of the hunter you are today. You came from a long line of them. Hunting the things that go bump in the night since white people first laid claim to this land. Your family snuck over and had been living in the shadows, on the fringes of society ever since. You are a walking index of monster knowledge. Familiar with creature names and lore that most haven’t even heard of.

You joined the Winchesters after you had helped the boys on a case and Sam invited you to stay long term. You were there when they discovered the bunker. And you were the first to figure out what the map table did, in the War Room, once the Angels were forced to fall from heaven. You also helped to update the Library since a lot of the information was outdated or missing. You helped cure Dean when he became a demon. You fit in perfectly with their little rag-tag family.

So when you had a passing thought about Dean, after the third salt and burn in a row, curiosity got the better of you and you decided to do what your family does best: observe and take notes.

You were fighting with a particularly nasty ghost. And like always, Dean seemed to have perfect timing. This ghost only manifested to those it was directly touching or grappling with so everyone else in the room just sorta had to do what some would call “spray and pray”. That is to say, a wide cover arched over a broad sweeping area, roughly chest high. Whether it be with rock salt bullets, or iron rods… it was hard to nail this ghost if he wasn’t focused on fighting you. So when Dean swoops in and swings a salted iron poker through the middle of the ghost’s body, accurately, and while looking right at the thing, while it had its hands around your throat, you began to suspect there was more to Dean than meets the eye.

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Prompt: Chris LaSalle, and he thinks his s/o is acting funny, thinks cheating, but really she bought them a house & wants to surprise him by fixing it up,which is y she’s been acting funny. Happy fluffy, minor angst? A Gibbs-slap from the s/o to LaSalle is bonus pts.

Requester: scottmccallmeishmael

Words: 1,697

Warnings: None

Chris couldn’t help the smile tugging on the corner of his lips. It was nice to finally be home, after a crazy day like this. Granted, most days were crazy. That came with the territory of New Orleans. But today had been especially brutal, and Chris couldn’t wait to sit down in a chair that wasn’t behind a desk or the seat of a car.

He closed the door behind him, hanging up his coat before Chris silently searched the place for the person he most wanted to see. If his couch and a cold beer had been tempting him so strongly today, then you could be compared to a siren. Chris longed to just see you.

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Zach Werenski #7

Again, another imagine that wasn’t requested.. But I do have some Zach requests so hopefully this ties you all over till I get to those :) I got this inspiration while listening to Mess Is Mine by Vance Joy so give that a listen if you wanna! 

Word Count: 2,278

It couldn’t be him. What in the world were the odds that he would be at the farmers market so early on a Sunday morning. But you swore you saw him, as you picked up a fresh soft peach from the wooden bucket, you saw him. That dark brown hair, his wide hazel eyes, and you couldn’t miss though stupidly perfect eyebrows either. Truthfully, you thought your eyes were just playing tricks on you, till you looked up again and he was closer this time. 

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Across the Stars, Chapter 10

Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4    Chapter 5 Chapter 6   Chapter 7 Chapter 8   Chapter 9

AN: ALL RIGHT FRIENDS. I am back. I have been to Hawaii. I have been to Europe. I have learned things and experienced things and some of the stress has rolled off my back and it is SUMMER. I have also decided to continue this fic to completion regardless of the number of notes it gets. Though it IS discouraging to see the number dwindle so drastically, I always make a big deal about how, for voice, I would sing an entire recital or performance even if no one came to watch. And even though I am much more dedicated (if you can even imagine that, yikes, y’all should be scared) to vocal performance than I am to writing, I figured that idea should translate.

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO. CHAPTER TEN. (Fun Fact: As I was writing this, Across the Stars came on my Pandora!!)

I’m not sure how I ended up here.

I’m not sure how I came to find my toes dangling over the edge of a precipice, the ocean breeze whipping my hair into my eyes as I ignore my pounding heart and twisting stomach and look over my knees at the dropoff. The inlet is crystal clear, the water so beautifully blue I can see the outline of each and every rock below me. But as the inlet opens into the rest of the ocean, the water goes dark. So dark, I imagine the abyss yawning below the water, sucking any poor unfortunate soul—fish or human—into its maw. For what, I don’t know. All I know is that my hands are tied behind me and my brain is rushing a million miles an hour to tell me what will happen if I were to fall over this ledge.

As if I didn’t already know.

Thanks, brain.

“You say you love Tamlin?”

I twist awkwardly around to find the source of the snarling voice. Amarantha stands behind me, arms crossed over a (fake) ample chest, clad in what I’m sure she thought was the most badass leather suit she could find. She’s a fake. You’re not badass, I want to tell her. You’re a scared little girl who is envious of anyone who has anything good in their lives, and you’re trying to act like it all disgusts you rather than come face to face with the fact that you will never deserve anything like this.

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