my god. this is a flawless cast


[1-8/?] → oh my god, i’m so gay (aka proof that scarlett johansson is a flawless human being)

scarlett johansson for ELLE UK, february 2013 [video]
  » in my own personal life, i like a lot just kind of rough – tailored things. and jackets. i’m a jeans kind of girl; i wear jeans all the time. and also, i live in new york so i usually just dress to survive.

Surf's Up: Luke Hemmings Imagine (Surfer!5sos)

(pic creds: effingluke) (if you wanna reblog the edit click here bc it fucked me up)

Warning: sort of long but I couldn’t hold back with this one. 

The smell of salt from the ocean stung my nostrils as I flipped through the pages of my new, rather boring, book. I don’t know what was going on in my mind when I saw that it was a modern day depiction of Romeo and Juliet, but it seemed like one of the better options at the pier’s book store. I watched people race back and forth on the yellow sand. Whether it was tanning, playing catch, or building castles, everyone had a smile on their face. Just in the distance, I could see some guy trying to hit on a group of girls. The girls laughed at his attempts though, clearly not impressed with his bulging muscles.

From the corner of my eye I saw a group of rowdy teens, passing drinks to each other and laughing obnoxiously. One of them saw me glancing at them and shot me a wink, only causing me to roll my eyes. They reminded me of the guys I dealt with in high school; the ones I wanted to get away from. I was sick of all the immature guys I had to deal with in those four, grueling years. I know I’m more than likely going to deal with a few more assholes when I start university, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there would be someone out there who was different. Who knows, maybe i’ll even meet a guy here in Australia while i’m on vacation. But until that happens, I was going to focus on lying in the hot Sydney sun, trying to work on a golden tan. However, I couldn’t help but catch my eye on someone who could definitely classify as a an Australian hottie.

Keep reading

An Exception

Pairing: Dean x reader
Song: Go All The Way - the Raspberries
Request: Can you do a one shot based on the little shower imagine thing you posted because wow - based on this imagine and this imagine.
Words: 2606
Warnings: nudity, the word ‘depressed’ (got to be careful, guys!), smut, blood, swearing.
A/N: I changed it a tiny bit so the reader had underwear on when she left the bathroom, so it doesn’t exactly fit the imagine. It just felt right, though, guys!
Set in: I imagine this as a very young Dean. Maybe season 1 or 2, if that.


When it came to girls, Dean was a polite man. He never dreamed of invading a woman’s privacy, or looking at her in a way she wouldn’t want him to, let alone touch her in way she wouldn’t like. This time, though, he made an exception.
She’ll never notice, right? She’s busy… doing whatever she does in there.
I guess I’m about to find out exactly what that is.
The last hunt had left your colleagues (if that was the right word to use…) with a scratch or two. Nothing more than the usual. In contrast, you had taken the fall this time, taken one for the team, so there was a little bit of blood everywhere. Seriously - everywhere. You felt so caked in it, in fact, that you had told Dean he “didn’t want to know about it” on the car journey back to the motel. Oh, believe me, I wish that was the case, Dean had observed in his mind. He fought off the smirk tugging at his lips in a futile manner, and you spotted it, your eyes shifting from the road ahead of you, to the steering wheel Dean was white-knuckling, to his smug looking face.
“What’s on your mind, Dean?” you asked playfully, half hoping it was the image you had briefly painted for him of yourself naked before you had told him he didn’t want to hear of your struggles. You knew it wouldn’t be, but he shook his head, which failed to smite the glimmer of hope in you about the situation. You had accepted a long time ago that Dean would never find you attractive, though; since he was so utterly gorgeous himself and he’d quite literally been with an angel, you recognised the fact that the prospect of him liking your appearance was unrealistic, to say the least. Truth be told, it brought you down constantly, but you always tried to joke about it internally in an attempt to make it seem like it wasn’t affecting you as much as it was. This was strange, because you had never had anyone to fool but yourself. This time, though, you made an exception.
Back to the original point, the abundance of another creature altogether’s blood made you desperate to shower. The fact that Sam had fallen asleep in the car and been left there by you and Dean because neither of you wanted to disturb him had worked in your favour. Dean saw your situation, and decided that, for once, it wasn’t worth one of the petty arguments he had with you so frequently.

You were in such a rush to get in the shower that you were pretty sure you didn’t do anything properly or thoroughly. Looking back, you had probably ripped the hem of your shirt in the dash to get in the shower. You’d almost forgotten your shower gel, too.
Little did you realise that you’d accidentally left the door slightly open in your hurry.
Dean’s Point of View
Dean sat on the motel bed he had been. allocated to him by you (you 'deserved’ the biggest one, apparently) cleaning his guns. He didn’t have to think about doing it or look at his weapons any more; it came naturally to him in way that excited him half the time, and depressed him the other. He glanced around, searching for something more intriguing to focus his eyes on than the blank wall whose peeling wallpaper made Dean wonder why he was in the business. In his sweep of the motel room, he saw the bathroom door had been left ajar. His very first thought was to close it and give you some privacy.

Then, he saw your naked body with water running over it and dropped the gun and cloth that had been in his hands instantly.
It came as no surprise to Dean that you had a good body: he’d actually pictured it a lot. Some of your shirts, bras and skinny jeans hadn’t left much for imagination. Still, though, your beauty and sexiness that was apparent according to Dean did shock him.
His eyes swept greedily over your body, starting at the head, where your hair had managed to avoid the water streaming from the shower so it still fell perfectly. Your lips, slightly parted and seemingly just waiting to meet his. Your jawline, elegant neck and prominent collarbone, all begging for Dean’s mouth and tongue to be on them. Your shoulders, the perfect juxtaposition between narrow and broad. Your breasts, which Dean felt bad about looking at, at first, but considered their flawless shapeliness and perkiness and cast all guilt from his mind. Your stomach, which he could vividly picture putting gentle pressure on as your climax bui-
Get yourself together, Dean. I think you’ve gotta sit out on this one. Admire from afar...
… And admire from afar he did.

“Oh, God, I wish those were my hands” Dean whined in a quiet voice as he witnessed you run your hands down your breasts while you washed yourself. He licked his lips, breathing heavily.
“Did you say something?” Sam approached his brother from the other room (he had obviously woken up). He followed Dean’s gaze. “Really, Dean? That’s not cool -Oh, I see why you’re doing that now. She’s…”

“Mine. Now back off, you’re standing in the way.”
Sam shook his head, sighing as he did so. “Dean, I’m getting another motel room. I can see what’s coming here.”
“What? Nah, it’s just a bit of…” Dean shrugged.
“Come on, Dean. I’ve been waiting for this for months. You don’t need me as wing man any more.” Sam winked, feeling light in the spur of the moment. He left the room, and Dean snorted.
You had barely left the bathroom before you felt a body colliding into you that could only be Dean’s, from the feel of it. The hand that was holding your towel up precariously was knocked off course in the process, and you gasped.
Dean stammered an apology as your towel fell. “Oh, sorry, I was just on my way to- oh” he finished, his eyes roaming over your naked body (aside from the underwear you’d brought into the bathroom) as you rushed to pull your towel back up. He smirked an extremely satisfied smirk after he’d had a good look.
“Dean…” you narrowed your eyes. “You didn’t do this on purpose, did you?” you knew you were asking a pointless question, but you went ahead with it anyway.
“Uh, I totally didn’t- I mean I did, but I’d never want to make you- well-”
“Dean” you growled. He stopped, assuming you were mad at him. “Get even with me, then… And be quick about it.”
Dean practically ripped his clothes off, while it was your turn to grin. He was left in his boxers (which seemed more like a tent than anything else, currently). It was a beautiful sight, really… Not that you had much time to appreciate it.
Once Dean was free from the confines of the majority of his garments, his lips met yours so swiftly you felt dizzy.
You were focused on the kiss: of course, the way his lips moved, tentatively yet meaningfully, felt good. Like, really good. Dean knew what he was doing, and that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t too controlled and solicited. No amount of mesmerising lip action could fully distract you from his body, which was now pressed up against you, however. You knew Dean was toned; you had seen him shirtless while cleaning up a wound, emerging from the bathroom, whatever, but nothing could have prepared you for what he felt like flush against your torso. The way he flexed each muscle subconsciously as he moved was insanely attractive, in a manner you couldn’t quite put a finger on.There was no way in hell you could’ve ignored the bulge that was gently rubbing against your crotch, either. Fantasising and some not-so-subtle gazing had aided you in figuring out the fact that Dean was big, but for some reason, you were a little surprised about that. You had only received a brief glimpse of it, but you were certain from previous anticipation and the feel of it against your now wet centre that his length was a considerable size. It’s nothing but fitting for him, really.
Dean’s hands transferred from resting at your waist to cupping your ass. He gave it a short yet sharp squeeze, causing you to let out a small gasp into his lips, before he was hoisting you up. Automatically, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he held you up by your ass. Your own hands lay on his shoulders, where his skin concealed the firm muscle beneath it.
The man seemed as if he was in no hurry whatsoever to transport you to your bed (after all, it was bigger than his), but he carried you there all the same. Like you, Dean was ready to appreciate every moment of this, reluctant to leave one and enter another.
Dean laid you down on your bed with caution, which shocked you. It was a good kind of shock. Once that was safely done, Dean crawled over you, stopping when his head was parallel to yours, propping himself up with his arms. He grinned and drank you in.
“What are you grinning at, idiot?” you asked him, giggling.
“Nothing, you’re just… This is…” No further explanation was required.
You nodded, before grabbing him by a tuft of his hair and pulling him towards you, connecting your mouth with his once again. Dean smiled at the gesture into your lips, before slowly running his tongue across your bottom one. You made an “mmph” sound in agreement. You let Dean in and his tongue slid over yours. He did it exactly right, knowing how to get you gripping onto his hair tighter. Meanwhile, one of his hands slid down your side, your skin tingling in its wake. His hands were rough and worn, but they felt soft and welcoming all the same.
Dean’s fingers travelled across your stomach as he kissed you. They moved up your body, and came to a halt when they reached the bottom of one of your breasts. “Can I touch?” he asked gently.
In response, you made another “mmph” noise.
His fingers skimmed across your breasts now, raising goose bumps on the skin there. “Mm, these feel good” he smiled into your lips once more, as he lowered his body onto yours slightly, so his crotch was lightly pressing into yours. Taking the initiative to cooperate, you tilted your hips up just a little, so Dean’s covered length was pressing into your damp underwear. Dean’s hand had been lazily travelling back down your body at that point. When he felt the friction as you began to grind his crotch against yours, he grunted and grabbed a fistful of your underwear fabric.
Dean pulled away from your lips, then, and looked into your eyes. “Are you sure you want this, baby? Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that, it just-”
“No, I like it” you reassured him, not sure whether it had been a romantic gesture or merely due to the context. In that moment, you couldn’t care less, though. “Anyway, yeah, I do want this.”
Dean raised his eyebrows.
“Definitely, Dean” your mouth turned up at the corners just a little.
“If you’re sure, beautiful” suddenly, Dean’s body was no longer upon yours. You sighed at the sudden lack of satisfaction. Dean removed his boxers slowly, giving you time to change your mind.
“Not bad” you smirked upon laying your eyes upon his obviously large length for the first time.
Dean gave you a small laugh as he pounced back on you playfully. “Not too bad yourself, either” he winked, giving your breasts a good squeeze. “Shall I do the honours?” Dean inquired after a moment of the two of you staring at one another’s faces, caught up in the moment. He gestured to your underwear to illustrate his question.
You nodded, and that was all the man needed. He slipped your underwear off, and lined his tip up with your entrance. Dean asked you one more time “are you sure?”. Naturally, your reply was “yes”. “You ready?” he asked. You nodded again, and Dean eased his cock into you.
You groaned a long, filthy groan at the sensation of Dean’s length filling you up. Dean licked his lips at that, while he was pausing to allow you to adjust to his cock. “You really should do that more often” it was his turn to smirk. “We good to go?”
“God, yes.”
Dean pressed his forehead against yours as he started rolling his hips into you. His thrusts were gentle and loving, yet maddeningly sexy, and you were soon bucking your hips at the feeling, your back arching slightly with it. Your hot breaths mingled with Dean’s as he rested one of his hands on your hip, guiding you against him. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist to allow him more access to your centre, and Dean immediately started to go deeper. His grip tightened on your hip and he let out a gorgeous, throaty moan at how that felt for him. Your hands transferred from the bed sheets they were grasping to Dean’s strong arms, which you held onto as you rolled your hips to meet his. It was slow, it was sensual and it was driving you slightly crazy. You were unsure as to why you’d ever indulged yourself in anything other than Dean’s flawless lips and tongue, or his firm chest (which was now rubbing against yours at just the right pace), or his admirable arms, or his cock, which, as far as you were concerned, was magical, or-
“I like you” Dean cut your train of thought short as he gave you a smile with a warmth you could never experience from a heating system.
“I like you too” you grinned right back at him.
“I mean, like” Dean heard your breath become more unsteady and his hand changed from your cupping your hip to lightly pressing on your clit. “I don’t just want to do this with you. I want to do… Other things, too.” he sounded nervous, now, but you recognised that that wasn’t the reasons why his thrusts had become irregular…
“What, you’re into the kinky stuff, too?” you joked breathlessly.
He gave you a childish giggle. “I mean, I want to do things people do when they- oh, fuck, y/n” the coil in your stomach that had been building and building seemed to work in time with Dean’s words, spreading in waves as you felt yourself come tumbling over the edge with Dean. You threw your head back, gasping, and Dean grunted and buried his head in your neck, riding out your highs with his lazy thrusts.
Dean pulled out of you and rolled off you simultaneously. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around you, however, so your bodies remained close as you lay together, all sweat and heavy pants.
“What I was going to say was” he picked up where he left off. “I want to do things people do when they’re… Oh, God, I’m gonna sound like such a pretentious asshole.” he shook his head, and you felt it against your neck, where his face remained buried in.
“I promise I won’t think that of you, Dean. You don’t have to say it, though.”
“No, I want to.” he took a deep breath. “I don’t want this to be just a hook up. God, I find you attractive, but… I want to do things people do when they’re in love.” he said more quietly. “Like sleep in the same bed every night and hold hands and- you get the picture. I should stop myself now.”
“Sounds good to me, handsome.” you told him honestly. “I love you too, by the way.”

When I post a gorgeous picture of myself where I tag a dress, it’s because I had to because they sent it to me for free. Or I wanted to raise funds for a wildlife campaign so I wanted to take a good picture. But I may have also been crying in my car earlier because I was frustrated because I didn’t get an audition that I wanted and because I’m in a fight with my fiancé, or something like that. I’ll see a comment underneath that picture where people say, ‘You’re so flawless. Your life is perfect.’ We’re putting out these expectations of ourselves to always be perfect, to always be beautiful, or to be doing something interesting, or be somewhere awesome, and most days I’m really boring and on the couch and I feel terrible about myself, and I’m like, ‘Oh my god, what am I doing with my life?’ I think that what’s dangerous—we’re getting more and more into a false representation of ourselves and I feel that if I were younger, that would seem more real to me.


We’ve hit ONE MILLION FOLLOWERS right here on the #Marvel Instagram, and our friends at #AgentsOfSHIELD are pret-ty excited! Thanks to you, fans, for being awesome (x)

Stitchers 2x01: YOLO

When I was in my early 20s, there was a guy I was really excited about. Whenever we were together, it completely consumed me: the world around us became blurred, I was unable to discern what the people around me were saying, and I got a tingling sensation every time he was near. Incidentally, I feel the exact same way about Stitchers. Naturally, I was anything but thrilled when the show went on hiatus what seems like a thousand moons ago. I just really missed it,. But after weeks of checking tumblr for new gifsets and googling the show to see if there were any news about the Season 2 premiere date, I decided to move on. I wasn’t gonna spend my life waiting, you know? Of course, just like with my former flame whom I ran into unexpectedly on the way to the supermarket that was when I heard that the show was coming back on March 22nd and all those feelings came washing over me again. Here’s what I thought of the first episode…

Welcome back to the Stitchers programme

I am embarrassed to admit that I had forgotten just *how* good the acting is. I mean, that first scene at the stitch lab, when Cameron was presumed dead, everyone on the cast really gave their performance their all. If I hadn’t known that Cameron was going to live, my heart would have broken not just for Kirsten desperately clutching on to Cameron’s lifeless body, but for Maggie, who looked utterly guilt-ridden, for Camille, who looked shaken to the core by the tragic demise of her friend and co-worker, as did Ayo, and for Linus, who real man that he is, didn’t bother holding back his tears. My GOD, what a flawless welcome back.

A whole new world

Of course this near death experience was going to leave a mark. Linus decided to make some changes to his life because it was time to grow up. And the first step to this resolution was to apologise to Camille and admit that he was wrong not to believe in her back at the lab. I for one am psyched to see him become more responsible and mature – although I sincerely hope that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop taking Zumba or wearing kurtas to raves. Camille, too, was deeply affected by the events at the lab. Witnessing her dear friend’s near-death seems to have further enhanced the protective and caring side of her that we’ve previously seen in the lock-down episode for instance. But I think she also tasted blood when she got to take the reins during the stitch. Clearly she will become more involved in the process now and I personally can’t wait to see her tap into her full potential this season. And then there was Maggie: after almost losing a protégé, she demanded more transparency for the sake of the team: if they are going to risk their lives on the job, they deserve to know what the real purpose of the Stitchers programme is. Turner disagreed and – entirely non-regrettably – was murdered a little while later. To be honest, a part of me was hoping that Maggie was the one who pulled the trigger. The asshole had it coming. So now Maggie’s going to take over as director of the programme, you go girl!

In other good news, Deputy Handsome McSweettooth, also known as Fisher, was doing well and enjoying all the attention. Maybe I’m seeing things, but did anyone else think that something could happen between Fisher and Camille? I should hope not!

Camsten: will they or won’t they?

With Fisher still out of commission after getting shot, it was up to the artist formerly known as Cautious Cameron and his sidekick Queen Elsa of Arondale to investigate Turner’s untimely demise. While their relationship has always been the best part of the show – due to Kyle and Emma having great chemistry and the writing for these two in particular feeling very organic and real – their dynamic has completely flipped: having slipped through Death’s fingers in the nick of time made Cameron realise that life is short and we better carpe the fucking diem if we want to make it count. So he went right ahead and did what everybody would do if they had just gotten a new lease on life: he took up bouldering, mischievously locked two policemen in a panic room, and indulged in punching a dude for being uncooperative (and tasering his girl). 

By contrast, Kirsten, who was feeling all the emotions for the first in forever (k, gotta stop with the Frozen references already), was suddenly the careful one. Frankly, I am very invested in seeing her struggling with real feelings over the weeks to come. It was really gratifying to see her trying to process everything she’s learnt from stitching into Cameron and weighing whether or not she should be upfront and let him know that she knows about his feelings for her. I don’t, however, care too much for Cameron’s dauntless shenanigans.

In fact, I believe that his carefree actions are going to cause a bit of a rift between him and Kirsten. After all, he used to look up to her because she was fearless and brazen, something that he in his cautious disposition could never be. Only now he is, so how is it going to affect the way he sees her? That being said, I get what the writers are trying to achieve, at least I think I do: so far, Kirsten and Cameron have been polar opposites in terms of their personalities and priorities. Now, they’re still polar opposites, but they are seeing the world through the other person’s eyes for a change. I reckon it’s just a matter of time before everyone’s favourite otp finally finds common ground and gives in to their feelings. And boy do we have a great fandom to help us get there.


Residual emotion from this week’s stitch:

-          Kirsten’s father is alive and murdering, should have seen that coming, really.

- “Badges? We don’t need no badges”

- “He watched a lot of movies when he was a kid…”