#clearing some drafts

[mvdeanw]

Dean // SPN - 2x04, 4x02, 10x17

Dean ( Jensen ) love club: @jillmariej @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @brilovesdeanwinchester @waywardbaby @spnfangirl1314 @shawnie74 @kwistowee @queenofallerdalehall @charred-angelwings @girlshunttoo @adoptdontshoppets @ddriverpicksthemusic @milo-winchester-4ever @wickedinspirations @quicklymybasement @jensensgotyoudean @lequisha @deansraspberrypie @thoughts-and-funnies @raidens-realm @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eevvvaa @doublebill @avanatural @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @catnipster69

[petertingle-yipyip]

SIN MIEDO MASTERLIST

Y/N Stark just got back to her dad after disappearing, only to watch him die. In her early twenties, she needed to get away. When she hears Sam and Bucky are onto something, she's quick to join them.

There is no romance between Sam and Y/N or between Bucky and Y/N. THERES A LITTLE ROMANCE BETWEEN BUCKY AND Y/N. Happy reading!

THIS PROJECT HAS BEEN DEEMED ABANDONED UNLESS INTEREST COMES BACK.

NEW WORLD ORDER (PREVIEW)

THE STAR SPANGLED MAN (PREVIEW)

POWER BROKER (PREVIEW)

THE WORLD IS WATCHING (PREVIEW) // (DELETED SCENE 1) (DELETED SCENE 2)

TRUTH (PREVIEW)

ONE WORLD, ONE PEOPLE (PREVIEW)

[superkitten-poison]

olivia coleman and yasmin finney have now both been in doctor who but i am willing to fully embrace face blindeness to let nick nelson live in a world where his childhood crush the tenth doctor is canonically pansexual and gender queer

[stickylittleleaves]

that pussy's downright kafkaesque

[tarmac-rat]

[cacysayshi]

once I had a dream that scar posted a video simply titled "motherfuhckjer". I clicked on the video and scar was standing at the edge of the perimeter with grian half out of frame on the left hand side, and there were a few seconds of dead silence. then scar inhaled and yelled "MOTHERFUCKER" eith all his chest and after another moment of silence grian starts laughing his ass off. this was like 4 months ago and I remember this in. vivid detail. anywya

[ineffablelunatics]

So I have looked and looked at his face during this scene. Trying to gauge some sort of something.

I think I finally realized what it is

These aren’t the best gif examples, but the scenes themselves are. Crowley circles Aziraphale in both scenes. He’s the guard dog sneering at anyone saying don’t come closer. I’m not saying that Aziraphale isn’t Aziraphale. No, he is himself. It’s just that over the years, he got used to Crowley circling him. Guarding him. But now, he knows that he’s not there. For the first time, in a very long time, he is on his own. No one is coming to save him. He has to guard himself.

That’s the face of the Guardian of the Eastern Gate who carries a flaming sword and is ready to start a revolution

[probablyanalienindisguise]

[pizzaqueen]

Steve being indignant over the girls in Hawkins not being interested in Eddie and Eddie's like I mean, it's fine, I'm gay, I'm not interested in them, and Steve's like that's not the point! You're hot! What's wrong with them?

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

The fact that young Norman is so model-esque is kinda funny though bc now I gotta picture Daryl and Merle bummin around back in the day lookin like

[fastcardotmp3]

welcome to dot drops something that's been sitting in her tumblr drafts for 4 months Saturday I hope you enjoy your visit mwah! Steddie; Ballet AU; Dancer!Steve; mentions of cancer treatment; 1.5k words

Dress rehearsal is supposed to be a mess.

That's the point of it, really, to get all the mistakes out of your system and start the actual show run with a clean slate. Or at least, that had been the point of which they'd all convinced themselves when Steve was the one performing.

Bad dress meant good show, or so the old adage went, and so at least there was some ease of worry with the collective understanding that it won't happen on the night within the company.

That was the case when Steve was a student, when he was an apprentice, even during his time in the big leagues at Joffrey, but right now? At the end of a truly abysmal dress in this run-down theater on the edge of a town from which he'd once run away?

Steve is not the performer. He's the guy in charge.

And so he spirals.

He'd never wanted to be a director or an instructor or the head of a studio like this. It had never been in his plans. Steve was a man of action, where the people who do these jobs are the brains behind the operation.

Steve knows how to work hard, how to force his body and even his mind into submission until he gets the steps just right, but this? These past six months back in Hawkins temporarily helping out?

(God, please let it be temporary.)

He's not built for this. He's sitting center stage after everyone has left with only half the house lights to illuminate his misery and he's not. Built. For. This.

Not built for being a mentor or a leader or a role model; not built to handle the strenuous nature of his mother's legacy; not built to carry the name she's made for herself as a teacher and a choreographer and a shaper of young dancers.

Steve's not built for it!

They'd had a shitty fucking dress.

"Hey, uh, you gonna be a while? I kinda need to close up for the night."

The voice echoes across the empty space, bouncing off the high ceiling and straight up to land on the Marley floors at Steve's feet. The stage isn't built for dancers, much like Steve isn't built to be here, so they'd had to pull up the floors from the studio and drag them halfway across town just to roll them out here.

"Hello? Are you, like, alive up there?"

Steve sighs. "Yeah," he calls back, catching sight of the figure talking to him at the back of the theater, the young guy who runs the place and who Steve met a grand total of three days ago. His name is Eddie and he dresses more like he's running a music venue than a local community theater, but he's mostly stayed out of Steve's way so far. "Sorry, I'll get outta your hair."

"Sure," Eddie says, but he's just sort of leaning against the back wall by the window to the sound and lighting booth without an ounce of urgency to him as Steve drags himself to his aching feet and lugs his three separate bags of show stuff onto his shoulders.

There's an energy to an empty theater, one which has held a performance and one which now holds the ghosts of that performance, which tugs at the anxieties sitting buried deep beneath the more immediate ones.

Fears about his mom's health, about what will happen to the studio if she doesn't win this particular battle, about what will happen to him.

There's an energy here in the creak of the steps which lead down off the front of the stage and there's an energy to the plod of Steve's sneakers up the long, racked aisle between the seats.

There's an energy, but it's also not empty, is it.

"Hey, good show, dude," Eddie says, pushing off his wall as Steve grows nearer. "Like, talented kids you've got there."

Steve scoffs before he can help himself and then pinches the bridge of his nose in a grimace for not being able to help himself.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he grits out, thinking about his bed. Thinking about how he never made time for dinner and he has to be here early again tomorrow.

"Wow, resounding confidence on this one," Eddie snorts, and when Steve opens his eyes it's to genuine amusement, genuine curiosity in the tilt of a head and furrow of a brow.

"No, just," he shakes his head, "you should see 'em when they're really on their game, y'know?"

Eddie hums, and when did Steve come to a stop right in front of him? He's leaving. He has to leave. Go home. Think about all the spacing corrections he needs to fix tomorrow and run through with the girls before show time.

"Bad dress, good show though, right?"

Steve startles. Maybe a little too visibly because Eddie is actively holding back laughter at the sight of him.

"What, I've worked at a theater for four years and I'm not supposed to pick up a thing or two about the ballet?" he snarks good-naturedly. "Caroline, the lady who did your job before you, she was a chatty one, taught me everything I know about Giselle."

It's a knife between the ribs. It's a soothing sort of heat, like from a roaring bonfire.

"You--" he clears his throat, "you know Caroline?"

"Highlight of the job honestly, before she retired," Eddie shrugs.

"She didn't retire."

"Oh. She...?"

"Chemo," Steve doesn't know why he's saying it all so willingly, why after months of trying to run the studio without having to talk about how's your mom doing, sweetheart? he's opening up to this stranger with the curly hair and curious eyes. But he knows her. He's-- Well, he knows her. "I'm just here to-- to fill in until she can come back. So."

Eddie is studying him now. Curious eyes turned intelligent, knowing, sad with the weight of realization.

"You're the wonder boy," he says on a breath like oh, I get it now.

"The what?" Steve balks.

"Her kid," Eddie says like it's simple. He's leaning against the wall again, like he's not planning on getting back to work anymore, "she was-- Shit, man, she loves the hell outta you. Oh, you should see my son, he's in Les Corsaire this season! Oh, my boy, he's just gotten promoted to soloist, he'll be a principal in no time! Oh, the talent on him, the--"

"Okay, okay, Jesus," Steve cuts him off, a half-hysterical laugh bubbling up out of his chest in the process.

"You should tell her I say hi next time you see her," Eddie isn't remotely deterred by having his little, lilting performance derailed. There's a softness to him that deserves a smaller space, walls less prone to echo.

"I will," Steve nods. His bags grow heavy on his shoulders.

"And you should chill out a little bit," he says, this time with the kind of glint to his eye that needs a bigger space, needs to be up on the stage to the point where it has Steve floundering, "y'know, about the the shitty dress that, between you and me," he leans in conspiratorially, close enough to feel the heat of his breath, "wasn't really all that shitty."

Steve sucks in a breath.

It strikes him somewhere old, the reassurance, somewhere young deep inside of him. The comforting from a mother that if he just works hard enough he’ll land that double tour in fifth some day soon, the unbroken promise that she would never give him special treatment as the son of the studio owner, but that she would never hesitate to reward him when he’d earned it on his own.

It strikes him because no one tells you how little reassurance the guy in charge is ever offered and it strikes him because it’s been such a long day and it strikes him because—

“Hey, have you had dinner yet?”

Eddie’s eyebrows lift high on his forehead and Steve sees it, the attitude on this dude that his mother absolutely would have loved in an instant. There’s a performer in there, even just in the brief interaction they’ve shared so far. There’s a spotlight pointing inwards and a show begging to be dragged out.

“No,” Eddie drags out slow and curious, “you offering, ballet boy?”

Steve needs a sounding board and he needs another set of eyes and he needs his mom to be okay and the show tomorrow to prove that he can handle this for her if she’s not, but maybe what he needs most right now, on the other side of a spiral in a dark and echoing theater, is this.

“Meet me at Benny’s in thirty,” he says simply as he makes his way for the door. “Since you’re such an experienced test audience.”

Eddie’s responding laugh is bright and his eyes glitter with curious amusement and maybe this is what Steve needs because maybe all of this is one big rehearsal at a big new life in and old small town.

And maybe this is his chance to make a mess of it. At least until the real show starts.

[mvdeanw]

Dean // SPN - 4x02

Dean ( Jensen ) love club: @jillmariej @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @brilovesdeanwinchester @waywardbaby @spnfangirl1314 @shawnie74 @kwistowee @queenofallerdalehall @charred-angelwings @girlshunttoo @adoptdontshoppets @ddriverpicksthemusic @milo-winchester-4ever @wickedinspirations @quicklymybasement @jensensgotyoudean @lequisha @deansraspberrypie @thoughts-and-funnies @raidens-realm @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eevvvaa @doublebill @avanatural @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @catnipster69

[petertingle-yipyip]

SOUR MINISERIES MASTERLIST (PETER PARKER)

I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I did. It was helpful to take my own experience and create a story out of it. For those of you that are just coming across this series, it’s based off a situationship that ended not too long ago. I’m okay now, but thinking of him still hurts a bit. Anyways.. it’s angsty. It’s complicated. It’s not a traditional happy ending. Feedback is always welcome!! Happy reading! Xx

Also, this is the chronological order of the story. I posted them based off a random generator to force me to write all the pieces, instead of picking and choosing which I did and when. Hope it all makes sense!

THIS PROJECT HAS BEEN DEEMED ABANDONED BC IM NOT SAD LIKE THIS ANYMORE.

1 step forward 3 steps back

traitor

drivers license

enough for you

good 4 u

deja vu

happier

brutal

jealousy jealousy

favorite crime

hope ur ok

[yayswag]

rlly silly doodles based off of a post the hc goat @tegr1dy made about stan and kyle adult braces that had me laying awake at night 😭😭😭

[winter-seance]

The Umbrella Academy 3.08

[josibunn]

thinkin about how jack would do you like this and wonder why you’re so crazy over him lol. nsfw below the cut (link goes to twitter if you catch my vibe)

jack didn’t know why you were so possessive over him. I mean, he loved it, he thought it was cute. but it always threw him in a loop when you’d hold his hand tightly in public, when you moved his hand to cup your thigh, or when you purposely perched your ass against his crotch in public somewhere, like in line or at a produce market.

he thought of himself to be a pretty average and average looking guy. if anything, he should be the possessive one, you turn heads like no one else. but it wasn’t so much about looks to you.

you always told him “I just want you all to myself” “gotta let everyone know you’re mine,” because, well it was true. but god..if you found out anyone else was getting the treatment he gave you in bed..you’d go crazy. he made you crazy.

it was sickening, he had you absolutely whipped. delusional, even. the sheer thought of his hands on someone else had you heated, you just couldn’t let it happen.

he had you at the end of your shared bed, him standing off it. you held your legs in the air as he pounds into you mercilessly, toying with your clit at a brutal pace, the pressure of his thumb making you see stars, galaxies.

you’re spasming and twitching with each deep stroke and run of your clit, you’ve been at it for hours. he’d flipped you in all sorts of positions, missionary, doggy, then backshots, and back to missionary again. you were lying in a pile of yours and his own fluids, the wallpaper could crumble at how rank the room was with your scent of sex, it was stuffy, and intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough.

you gasped and hiccuped, cheeks hot and stained with tears, each drag of his thick, long cock knocking the wind out of your body. you didn’t know what sparked in him, he just..came home in a giving mood, and god, has he been giving it to you.

“is it good baby? huh?” hes taunting you at this point, he knows it’s good. hes having to raise his voice because you’re just babbling on. “listen to me mama, listen,” he pulls your head up by the bun balancing loosely atop of your hair, making you look up at him with your wet eyes as your chest heaves. “is it fucking good? this dick doing you good baby?” he’s slamming into you and using your own hair to keep you in place, and it has your eyes rolling back as you moan weakly, body starting to shake again as you get louder and louder.

“look at this pussy, you heard me,” he takes his hand off your clit and holds your cheek, slapping you once before forcing you to look at his cock disappear in you, your pussy clenching around him and sucking him in more and more with each long stroke of his cock. “tell me it’s good, tell me this cock is fucking good,” he goes back to pounding inside you, and your moaning out lifer and more frequently, eyes squeezed shut as you feel another orgasm coming.

“oh baby it’s good, it’s fucking good! fuck, nng-jack!” you moan high, he’s pounding into your sweet spot, and you’re turning into goo under him, your ankles now over his shoulders as you slide off your elbow, his hand still wrapped around your hair as you arch your back off the bed.

“fuckin know it is baby, look at you, you’re fuckin shaking,” he shakes his head, and he’s right, you’re cursing as you squirt on his cock once more, it has him groaning loudly, cursing as his head tips back, god, your neighbors hate you guys. “gonna make you a fuckin momma, nobody’s gonna have this pussy, got it? this gonna be my pussy forever, yeah?” he lets go of your hair and grabs your neck, making you squeak.

“yes baby, cum in me please cum in me, need it baby please,” you whimper, even though he’s came in you so much tonight there no way you weren’t getting pregnant. “yeah beg for it, gonna milk this pussy,” he’s so nasty, drooling on your stomach as he cuts in your for the last time tonight, letting go of your beck and grabbing your face for a kiss, he’s tired, the kiss is tired, you’re tired.

“love you so much baby,” your voice is small and shaky as he pulls out and pulls you atop of his chest, rubbing your back as he gets under the covers, ignoring the fat stain. “I love you more mama. love you so fucking much, you’re perfect.” he kissed your forehead a bunch as he wraps his arms tighter around your shaky body, and you don’t ask him what got him so worked up, but if you did, he’d literally tell you he “wanted a good last run before he properly gets you knocked up” lol. oh yeah he has a breeding kink, that’s not up for debate. mwah

tl: @vanlisbon @sugarinte @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator @wonkinoo @auryyz @brithedemonspawn