loganâs run

seto’s personal trashy update

my last day of vacation is tomorrow, these 3 weeks i’ve been animating for the islands MAP, watched hours and hours of gameplays, read the entire snk manga, and watched anime

i’m a productive child

i just started reading sbr and so far……i’m mcloving it

"WHO RUN THIS MUTHA?"

Let’s Celebrate, Encourage, Learn from, and Love oneach other! ❤️ with that being said…

YA’LL ARE THE LIT ✨

If you’re or are an aspiring… Business owner, Mua, Fashion stylist, Hair stylist, Fashion designer, Cook, Author, Actress, Nurses, Nail tech, Doctor, Lawyer, School teacher, Model, Radio host, Engineer, News reporter, Athlete, Photographer, Dancer, Police officer, Manger, etc! KEEP DOING YA THANG ✨And if you/you’re/you..Nails poppin, Starting college, Senior in college, Starting a family, Skin glowing, Got a new job, Went out for an audition, Learned a new skill, Got a new apartment, Just got engaged, Curls poppin, Hair growing, Bundles flowing, Makeup on point, Brows Fleeky, etc. KEEP DOING YA THANG✨

Women you all are strong, ambitious, beautiful QUEENS! And you can do anything and everything you put your mind too! Whatever you’re working on right now you got it baby 💪🏽May the lord continue to bless you in every way! JUST KEEP SLAYING!!! 💅🏽 -E.

Sometimes I Don’t Run

Characters/Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Smut, slight angst maybe, little bit of fluff

Word count: 906

A/N: This is my contribution for @megansescape ‘s 300 challenge and @iwriteaboutdean  Amanda’s 200 Follower 90′s Baby Challenge I now realize I never asked you guys if it was okay to combine your challenges, I’m so sorry!! 

Songs promps: 

  • Runnin’ by Adam Lambert
  • Sometimes by Britney Spears

Sometimes I Don’t Run


He turns around in your arms, silently, knowing how much you like to be the big spoon and you wrap one arm around him, slipping under his heavy arm in order for your hand to rest on his strong chest. Your other hand, the one trapped between your bodies caresses his naked back, sliding under the waistband of his boxers.

Your fingertips dance over his chest, drawing shapeless lines, curling the already curled soft hairs. unconsciously, or not so much, you grace the soft tissue that is his nipple and rejoy at the feeling of his muscles tightening under your touch.

He hisses when you do it again and immediately you press your lips against the taut skin of his broad back, inhaling deeply the scent that is all him. Your own lower stomach coils. Forefinger and thumb close around the hard little pebble, twisting and turning, earning softs whimpers from him and an involuntary thrust of his hips.

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