good huh

The Pie...nis Game

Word Count: 579

Warnings: One swear word spoken from the lips of injustice, but other than that, none. Just all around silliness :)

“May whoever coded this book step on Legos for the rest of their stupid lives,” I muttered, slamming the dusty pages closed with an exorbitant thump and tossing the thing onto the table. I rubbed the corners of my eyes and groaned. My eyeballs were drier than Cas’ attempts at humor. 

When I peeled my eyelids open again, Sam was staring at me over the book he was holding with an amused look on his face, “So…how’s the research going?”

“Delightful,” I quipped, “In fact, I’ve vowed not to rest until I’ve read every book in the bunker.”

“That good, huh?” Sam said with a smile. He scanned the growing pile of literature in front of us, “What about this text on –”

“No.”

He snorted, a sound that made me giggle before I flopped dramatically onto the table, my arms outstretched in front of me. “Reading is going to claim a life this year,” I groaned. 

“Always so melodramatic,” Sam teased.

A thought crossed my mind and my head snapped up suddenly, “Wait…where’s Dean?” He had started the tedious research with us. “Didn’t he say he was going to get a book from storage?”

Sam checked his watch, “Yeah, about thirty minutes ago.”

Injustice rose from the depths of my soul, “Son. Of. A. BITCH! He ditched us!”

Sam shrugged, “I’m used to it at this point.”

I shook my head violently, “No! He must be summoned. A family that suffers together, stays together.”

An eye roll was all my speech received, “Summoned? Really, Y/N? What are you going to do, throw some whiskey and pie into a tin box and bury it beneath the Impala?”

I scowled at him. But then my brain wheels began to slowly turn again. Hmmmmmm….pie….

“Pie,” I whispered.

“What?” Sam asked in confusion, “Did you just say…”

“Pie,” I repeated, slightly louder this time. I wiggled my eyebrows at him. Sam set his book down and leaned back in his chair with a sigh, but there was a smile growing on the corners of his mouth.

“Pie.” Sam’s voice this time.

“Pie.” My vocal chords stretched.

“Pie!” Sam barked.

“Pie!” I yelled.

PIE!” Sam was shouting at this point.

PIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” The word ripped from my lungs like an amazon warrior cry.

Dean burst into the library, his gun trained in front of him while his eyes wildly searched for the threat. “What’s wrong?!? I heard yelling! I heard…” he paused while his brain pulled a file from his memory. “Wait…were you guys… Were you guys saying…pie?”

I was already giggling uncontrollably, but at that point all of my senses were claimed by hysteria and I literally fell backwards in my seat. My chair hit the ground with a smack and I rolled onto the floor, snorting out laughter so strong that my tear ducts broke, releasing torrents of water down my face.

“Can’t….breathe…” I squeaked, “P-p-pie!” I wheezed out the word between my fits of laughter.

Dean looked over at Sam, who had picked back up his book and was reading  as though nothing had happened. “Why were you and Y/N shouting about pie?” I had never seen Dean more confused in my entire life.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, his face blank, “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And any hope of my lungs having a decent chance at air was gone as I rolled around on the floor like a drunk, laughing until my belly ached with happiness.


Tags: @wheresthekillswitch @pinknerdpanda @emilywritesaboutdean @ruprecht0420 @arryn-nyxx @jotink78 @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @super-not-naturall @a-bouquet-of-fandoms 

iloveyouhaz  asked:

The seats are pulled front and you're sitting on the backseat with Harry between your legs. He kisses your thighs and nibbles the skin a bit. Then he presses his tongue against your clit and starts adding pressure while looking up to you. He closes his eyes and wraps his lips around your clit and starts flicking and sucking. You grab his head and pull him closer by the back of his neck and he moans against you. "So fucking sweet. Yeh wanna cum? Have yeh been a good girl fo' meh, huh?"

OH MY GOD

Things John thinks about while lying awake at night: 

  • It’s too hot.
  • Too uncomfortable to sleep, her body on top of me is making me sweat.
  • Is there enough shampoo left for the morning? I need to make a trip.
  • I’ll get the one with the mint… I used that kind a few times. When I would run out of wash before… his would always be minty. I like the way it makes my scalp tingle.
  • The flat was empty the other day when I popped over.
  • It was a mess. Worse than usual. 
  • He’s been odd lately, even for him. He’s hardly there, Mrs. Hudson said. She isn't seeing him sleep. Bringing up his morning tea to have him complaining about the chill that night. Even when he is there, she says, it’s like he’s not.  
  • Hardly contacts me…
  • I’ll ask him… I feel like I shouldn’t. Is it not my place? 
  • No, of course it’s fine. I’m his friend. That’s normal.
  • But…
  • I feel like I shouldn’t. Why is that not appropriate- asking what’s going on? Or is it more like I… that’s it.
  • I don’t want to know his answer.
  • It’s guilt, you cock. 
  • Shit, I’m so guilty. 
  • I can’t feel like this- like I did this to him. I’ve done nothing. 
  • His flat is so vacant and quiet… God knows he’ll go his entire life locked up with his own madness, by himself in that flat… 
  • Even Mrs. Hudson will eventually… no no, this is fine
  • He was fine before you came along. 
  • That’s a lie. What a lark
  • He was not ok. You heard. From Mrs. Hudson and Greg and Christ even Mycroft. Before I moved in he was… 
  • Even within the first month of my marriage he self-destructed.
  • God, I’ve done this to him. 
  • Get off it. He’s done this to himself, I can’t feel guilty for getting on with my life! He had died!
  • He left me!
  • Fuck. 
  • Does he even realize with that massive head that my stomach sinks when I see him sometimes?
  • Would he even be awake right now? 
  • Chances are he’s currently scraping petri dishes of bacteria and injecting toxins under fingernails. 
  • Quietly working under the kitchen lamp. 
  • I would come down for the loo and he would be doing things like that, completely immersed. Didn’t know I was there half the time. 
  • Shit, that one night I couldn't stop staring. 
  • The creases of concentration on his nose and his hands adjusting the fine focus. Rocking the ball of his foot on the floor, worrying his bottom lip. His hair was a mess- like he had been pulling and running his fingers through it all night. 
  • The feeling that came over me then. Like nothing else I had ever… I can feel it now. In my neck and my feet and my god-damned chest.  
  • God. Good God. Why do I still have to feel like… 
  • A wife, a child soon- and I can’t wrench Sherlock bloody Holmes from any part of me. 
  • So restless. I look at her and my fingers tremor. 
  • I look at him and… 
  • I’m… 
  • Bloody Christ.

sherlock

the moment john is talking about

5

I aim to make the most of it, for our nation’s sake. This isn’t the way I wanted it, but if I can use this moment to leverage respect for Atlantis in the global community…

Arthur Curry in Aquaman #16 (2017)

8

|Timeless| Favorite Ship: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston