that's my favorite face he makes

4

“Sheriff Swan, I’m letting you have thirty minutes with Henry. Take him out - buy him ice cream.”
“You want me to leave you alone with a prisoner?”

#this is the cutest scene ever #just look at henry #how happy he is #because he can spend half an hour with emma #and emma isn’t sure what to do #but it’s her son #and when he smiles at her #and says in an absolutely adorable way ‘hi emma’ #she just has to smile back #he makes her feel better in a heartbeat #and of course she takes him out #nothing is more important to her than to spend some time with her son #and to henry nothing’s more important than to spend some time with his mom #because he just loves her and needs her #but emma #emma just would do anything for him

one of my favorite things about thor is when he gets smacked sometimes he makes this face thats somewhere between “fuck you” and “fuck me

it’s my personal headcanon that fighting someone challenging is his kink

8

Ravi Moments – VIXX TV2 (Episode 48)

7

you know whats fucking adorable, when luke closes his eyes really tight when he sings because hes so into it. hes so inlove with his job and that makes me fall even more inlove with him and jesus i realky jUST WANNA FRICK HIM!!! my favorite thing about him is when they preform disconnected live he gives his little speech about everyone just putting away there phones and enjoying the music because thats what the whole song is about and i feel that he has such a personal connection to that song and omg just look at his face how can you not love him

“Is that my shirt?” BestFriend!Calum asked, looking at you as you entered his room. “Yeah. It’s really comfortable and you left it at my house a few weeks ago when we were watching movies, so I took it.” You shrugged going to sit with him on the bed. He had his guitar resting against him with a few notebooks open laying on the bed. “Yeah thats why its my favorite.” he grumbled under his breath. You knew he was kidding, he would let you smash his bass if you really wanted too because you’d probably have a reason for it. I mean if you didn’t, what kind of best friend would you be? “Do you want it back?” you asked with a pout on your face. “No, don’t make that face, that’s not fair. You can’t use that face. Fine! You can keep it. Jeeze.” He finally surrendered as you smiled in content. “Thanks Cally.” you said. “Now, I’m going to fix your nails because I know that one was’t dry when you touched something and messed it up.” You brought out a bottle of remover as he put his guitar down. “Thanks, I was really hungry and I forgot that they were still wet and I think I might’ve eaten some varnish.” he laughed taking one of the cotton balls and wiping his fingers. 

Every time Sam closes his eyes, Lucifer’s there. Waiting just over the edge of consciousness, hands in his lap, faint, curious smile on his face as he watches Sam in whatever motel room the dream has them visiting. Sometimes he speaks, giving Sam the opportunity to say ‘yes’, offering him things. Materialistic things that Sam doesn’t want, and he’s told Lucifer as much but that just makes the archangel look confused. Like he can’t figure out how else to give Sam what he wants.

The first time they kiss, Sam thinks he’s going to Hell right then. Because it’s hot and blistering and wet and wrongwrongwrong, but Sam can’t imagine it going any other way and he falls into it like he’s dying for it, shaking and fisting his hand in Lucifer’s shirt collar, sucking on his tongue and forgetting for long stretches of time who it is he’s got in his arms. He hasn’t had a kiss that good in a long time, years probably, and afterwards he’s out of breath and dizzy, ashamed and aroused by turns, staring into Lucifer’s darkened irises in total silence until he wakes up.

There’s nothing set about their meetings. Lucifer waits until Sam sleeps and then the inevitable happens: someone reaches out for someone else and they fall against one of the beds, Sam grabbing at Lucifer’s shirt and Lucifer tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair. There’s no finesse to it, nothing but pure, raw energy and that cold heat that Lucifer radiates, but Sam has never wanted anything so much as he wants this.

One night, Sam and Dean stumble into a motel room, exhausted and worn-down from a hunt that took them two hours too long. “Calling first shower,” Dean says the second they’re in the room, which Sam doesn’t even argue about because he can hardly see, he’s so tired. Dean goes into the bathroom and Sam’s asleep on his bed before his head even hits the pillow, free falling through his subconscious for a second before he arrives at his destination.

Lucifer is there, staring out the window with his arms folded across his chest. “Hey,” Sam says, and Lucifer turns, all slow surprise, like he can’t quite believe Sam’s there.

“Hello, Sam,” Lucifer says, and walks over to sit beside him on the mattress.

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