
@theartofmadeline
Jules of Nature

No title available

No title available

JBB: An Artblog!
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
No title available
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Cosimo Galluzzi
Three Goblin Art
RMH
noise dept.
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
NASA
Not today Justin
hello vonnie
$LAYYYTER

ellievsbear
seen from India

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Netherlands

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States

seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@ofbeerandbullets
my hiatus is over now and I've caught up on all the stuff that's been posted privately. I used to be in the group chat for SWLiS 1.0 and a few of you have my skype, but it's just-another-kim-next-door
I'll talk to y'all later when I'm not on my phone but there ya go
official hiatus notice--
(ish)
I've gotten some really upsetting news recently about my future and money and things and it's affecting me more than I thought it would.
Thing is, I think I'll still be on sometimes answering threads here and there, but feeling like I have to come on in combination with how shitty I already feel is just creating a lot of anxiety I don't need right now. So I'm going on temporary hiatus for the week.
Sorry, guys.
"believe me, i wish it was different."
// when you throw enough fanfic at your friends and they eventually give in and ship your otp...
[*aggressively loves LeeAnn forever for taking Charlie*]
// by the time this starts I'm probably going to have to leave
I’m sure you guys already knew this but did you know
the ring
that Dean always wears
on his right ring finger
is his mothers old wedding ring?
International Criminal Investigation Initiative | Greg and Dean
If another bloody person told him that this was a normal, basic murder he was going to cause one. A normal damn murder did not include what looked like bloody puncture wounds on a victims chest. Fuckin’ Anderson was saying they were knife marks or somethin’. Lestrade still didn’t buy it.
Shaking his head Lestrade let himself out of the building, needing to get some fresh air, well the team worked on analyzing the crime scene. So long as they left the body where it was for him to get a second look at the could do whatever they damn well please. They did a good enough job of taking pictures for that.
Spotting a man he did not recognize as he came out of the door Lestrade headed over. Looking over the taller man Lestrade processed suite, tie, comfortable but not at home, seemed slightly put off by the people around them. Not a local then? Walking up to him Lestrade held up his hands, “‘xcuse me sir, closed crime scene. Please go back over the line."
After a moment while the man introduced himself without moving away Lestrade let out a huff. International Criminal Investigation Initiative his ass. Something like this would have had to have gone through Mycroft. Mycroft would have let him know that someone from an ‘International unit’ was coming. He wasn’t going to take any of this American’s shit, though the badge was pretty good, and if he hadn’t know the Government Lestrade probably would have bought it.
Dean was moderately nervous when he was approached by a man, as he was clearly a proper officer. He always felt confident in his fake IDs back home, he had, after all, been making them before he even knew all the things they could be used for. But this one... well, this one was really putting his skills to the test. Reminding himself that he had used a fake last name.
He looked up and gave the man one of his signature smiles (though not the too-charming one, he was only trying to gain access to the crime scene) as he reached into his jacket pocket. "Officer Dean Singer. I'm with the International Criminal Investigation Initiative." He gave the other man a moment to look the badge over before flipping it closed and stashing it away again.
When his introduction was met with a huff, he grimaced internally. That was never a good sign. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "There a problem? My boss should've called and let you-- someone-- know." Was this dude even high enough up that he would know? His eyes scanned over the man he was speaking to, trying to figure that out.
"Timezones!" he blurted out, then chuckled. "Timezones... bet he forgot. Still sleeping. Loves his leep."
{Pillow Forts and Cuddles} || Chuck and Dean
In a world that's falling apart, there's a few things you need. First is a gun, preferably several, that you know how to aim and use and kill sons of bitches that need to be killed for the safety of you and other. Second is food, preferably pie that you hope know hasn't been tampered with. Third is a friend you trust like blood, but if you can't find someone you know will never betray you, it's best to go it alone. And fourth is someplace nice to sleep. Someplace you can get some shut-eye and refuel for the days to come with as few nightmares or middle-of-the-night attacks as possible.
Although Baby usually sufficed as a good ol' number four, he was close to Springfield and he knew for a fact that he had a friend there who might be able to provide what he needed. It would be good to get off the road for a little while anyway; he'd had a hell of a week.
He knocked on the door a few times, probably a little louder than necessary to make sure he was heard. "Chuck! Open up! It's Dean!"
.
.
Cassie smiled up at her father and nodded. “Yup. Starving. What do you want to eat?"
"You really have to ask?" He shoved her lightly. "I raised you better than that."
"Let's go get us some pie."
+4
"Hey, Daddy. You’re back early."
"Just a couple of vampires," Dean said as explanation, reaching over to ruffle Cassie's hair before kissing the top of her head. No matter how old she got, he'd keep doing that. "Easy enough to clean out. You hungry?"
May 2 || Lisa & Dean
"Well, I only have a couple of each laid out, I figured that'd be more than enough. I need the garlic minced, but only like a clove, that stuff is really overpowering sometimes, a whole green pepper, do like three or four green onions, and like 7 tomatoes. We're making spaghetti sauce from scratch," she said as she started breading chicken.
Lisa always wanted to be a chef. She loved to cook. She just never had time for culinary school. So, she took dinner time seriously.
"So are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to sit there with that sour puss and sip your beer?"
He listened to the meal plan she gave him, but the only thing that really stuck was seven tomatoes. He didn't particularly care about the rest at the moment (not that he particularly cared about the tomatoes either, but one thing at a time), so he decided to start on those.
Of course, with every cut of his knife, pinkish-red juice oozed onto the keyboard, and he had to remind himself that it was just tomato juice, not the pieces of Cas from when his body had exploded before him, or the blood that had covered his face as Sam Lucifer prepared to kill him.
"Just let it go, Lisa," he replied, making the last slice of the tomato decidedly louder than it needed to be. Then he shot her a glance that he hoped looked more annoyed than tired, grabbed his beer, and took another, longer swig.