without queue there is no me

Hot For Teacher

Originally posted by lokiandthorblr

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, little bit of fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Just felt like being a slut. This is just a fantasy of mine. Dean comes after the reader years later after he let her walk out of his life once. He is not making that mistake again. It’s short, and I’ve been extremely busy. Hope you don’t hate it.

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  • Leo: They call me coffee because I grind so fine ;)
  • Jason: Oh my god
  • Piper: They call me coffee because I keep you up past 2am
  • Jason: Pipes, not you too…
  • Nico: They call me coffee-
  • Jason: Please no
  • Nico: Because I’m dark and bitter and most people don’t like me without changing some aspect of who I am
  • Jason: Oh

queues are such a good feature cos otherwise it would just be me reblogging 50 things in less than a minute before pulling a Luke Skywalker™ and disappearing to a deserted island for 12 straight years without telling anyone

anonymous asked:

First off, I'm a big fan of yours. Your text posts are PERFECTION SPACE MOM. Second, I sent a message to my crush about how I like him in a different language. And I promised to tell him on the last day of school what it meant in English when he's leaving. I thought you could make a text post of something Lance confessing to Keith in a different language ( cause I'm Klance trash ). Sorry to bother😅 just really wanted to ask. Hope you have a wonderful day !


secondly, i made a post similar to this a while back but i love this trope so much and couldn’t help myself so here we go!!

 translation: (to the best of my ability - please correct my spanish if anything is wrong ) 

“i’ve been thinking about you…”


“do you like me? i adore you…”


“i wish you were mine.”

“i’m sorry…”

“please ignore this”

~ and now because ur spacemom is a sappy piece of shit and couldn’t leave this open-ended~ 


keith: “You make me happy… I love you and I can’t live without you. :)”

lance: “i love you too!!! :)”


Originally posted by demondetoxmanual


Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst, smut

Word Count: 2k (Lyrics in italics)

A/N: 6k Celebration and One Year Fic-i-verary Celebration Fic EIGHTEEN. The line requested was,  “I get all tingly when you take control like that.” was requested by @50shadesofsubtext  It will be highlighted in the fic. I am also including a gif submission from @faegal04 It was too good to pass up. It’s also loosely based on the song Addicted by Kelly Clarkson. 

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└ Cutie cinnamon roll masquerade~

Cr: VS Arashi 23.03.2017


yixing never letting go of luhan

anonymous asked:

#25 with Marichat?

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” 

Chat crouched a little further behind her with a look oddly reminiscent of fear. “I need a fangirl buffer.”

“A buffer?” Marinette echoed, looking around and trying to take in the fancy event. “I thought you loved fangirls.”

He certainly had no issues pandering to them when she was around

“Only when Ladybug’s around to keep them from getting too crazy,” he argued, voicing her thoughts almost exactly. “Without her…” He shuddered. “Fangirls are scary.”


Being something of a fangirl herself, she couldn’t exactly argue that.

“Okay, okay,” she sighed. “I’ll stick around and keep the lawsuit-worthy things to a minimum, and in return…”

She trailed off pointedly.

“A VIP pass to Gabriel’s advanced showing, I know,” he grumbled, putting her between him and a passing socialite. “Just… please.”

Marinette sighed again and prepared herself to face a small horde of jealous females.

Chat had better get her that damn VIP pass.

Peaceful Rest

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

I watched her as she climbed into one of the motel beds, pulling back the slightly scratchy comforter and sliding into the not so comfortable sheets.

“Night, Dean,” she sighed, her left arm curling under one of the pillows and pulling it closer to her, snuggling into it and pulling the blankets over her head to burrow deeper into the bed, hiding from the light.

I smiled softly at her form in the bed, the smile reaching my eyes as I recalled the countless times she had crawled into a bed without knowing how inviting she was. She had no idea the things she did to me. It was like she wasn’t even trying and that made her sex appeal skyrocket times a million.

Slowly, I began undressing, first my suit jacket, then my tie, and before long I was in nothing but a grey undershirt and my boxers. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to fall asleep with her in my arms. So many nights, sharing a bed, I’d wanted so desperately to reach over and pull her into my arms, but I didn’t.

Tonight that was going to change.

I glanced at Sam’s sleeping body in the other bed before sliding into the bed with Y/N. She didn’t stir, not registering my presence.

Slowly, hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around her waist and nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. She sighed against my chest and moved slightly in my arms.

Immediately my arms stiffened around her, afraid she would think I had lost it or something.

Instead, she turned in my harms and wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her head in my chest. I pushed her hair out of her face and realized she was dead to the world. It didn’t stop her from seeking comfort in me and that made my heart swell.

I kissed the top of her head and sighed contentedly. I finally had the girl of my dreams, in bed, wrapped in my arms, and she was passed out cold. I chuckled softly, kissing her temple before hugging her closer to me.

“I love you, Y/N,” I whispered in her hair. “Maybe one day I’ll be man enough to tell you to your face,” I sighed before I fell asleep with her safe in my arms where she belonged.

anon requested adrinette with 35

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

And, because Marinette could be a thoroughly terrifying person sometimes, Adrien shucked his pants without further thought.

It wasn’t until he was standing around in his boxers in the middle of a crowded street that it occurred to him that maybe he should have put up more of a fight.

Marinette didn’t even seem to realize it, now sewing his loose button back on with a single-minded vengeance.

“Uh, Marinette?”

“Almost done…”


“There!” She held his newly fixed pants with pride. “What do you… ah.”

Adrien smiled weakly. “Could I have my pants back, please?”

“Uhh…” said Marinette, rapidly gaining color as her eyes stayed fixed on his boxers.

“Marinette?” he tried, more amused than he possibly should be. “My pants?”

She offered them up with a mechanical gesture, eyes not budging an inch.

Adrien bent down to retrieve his clothing, and found that someone seemed to have superglued it to her hands.


People were staring at them as they passed, and Adrien couldn’t blame them — he’d stare at the two teenagers playing tug-o-war with a pair of designer jeans in the middle of the street too.


Marinette, eyes wide and face nearing maroon, finally surrendered his pants.

Well. That would teach Adrien not to neglect his clothing.

I said, meet me in the garden.
You know the one–
it is called Smiling Spring.
There are nightingales chirping away,
wine and candle lights,
and companions as soft as
pomegranate blossoms.
You think this all would sound so perfect!
But without you by my side,
what use is the Smiling Spring?
And when you are with me,
what use are pomegranate blossoms?
—  Rumi, ‘Meet Me in the Garden’ (trans. Shahram Shiva)