can i freeze the container of extra cream cheese frosting or…? suggestions? :D
trade you Dickinson for Marx?
errrr, despite how much difficulty i’m having making actual thought-word patterns, marx is definitely less fun. at least i’m just arguing about immortality being death and death being immortality and not, like, whatever is necessary for the start of history??? :D
i’m having trouble reading the actual poem now… this bodes well, obviously.
I really would love to see that crossover, repeatedly, in every possible position. Even if it would end in tears because let’s be real, everything the Winchesters touch ends in tears. Poor little shits.
“Look kid,” Sam says. It’s the third time he’s tried the good cop routine and Dean can hear it wearing thin. “We know you had nothing to do with the murders. But we also know you’re not the only werewolf in town.”
The kid tips his head and sucks on his lips, the total absence of fucks glaringly obvious. Dean is both frustrated as hell and grudgingly impressed because, hell, they’ve dealt with demons less sassy than this.
Sam sighs, and Dean has to cough into his hand to keep from laughing because that particular brand of exasperation is usually reserved for him. “Just be straight with us.”
For some reason, that’s hilarious. It takes a second before Dean remembers the dude they’d seen the kid with before they’d picked him up. Big, serial killer looking guy, sporting leather and a possessive hand on kid-snark’s back. Oh man.
Dean snorts and gives Sam patented ‘what? it’s funny’ shoulders when it earns him a glare.
“Trust me, dude,” the kid says. “I’m being as straight with you as…well, I was gonna say humanly possible but…”
A flash of canines has Sam rolling his eyes and sue him, Dean sorta wants to high-five the kid. You know you’ve been hunting for too long when you start rooting for your mark.
“You’re driving a stolen car,” Sam says. “You’re carrying a fake ID. Every word out of your mouth so far has been bullshit-”
“Says the hunter posing as an FBI agent,” the kid says, tapping a nonchalant beat on his water bottle.
Sam pulls out bitch-face number eleven. “Is anything about you real?”
The kid grins and bobs his head. “My boobs.”
Dean laughs so hard he almost pulls something.
the 131 books i’ve so far moved back home… i’m so glad i have a new bookshelf arriving soon for the rest.
In my experience, RPers and Writers alike enjoy one thing: Making characters suffer. This little guide is supposed to help you with keeping injuries and the First Aid - in case you want to patch your character back together - realistic.
I am no medical professional, but I dare say I picked up a thing or two during my First Aider training ;)
Under read more for length! Also, trigger warnings for blood, I suppose?
filed under: things emily should feel less naughtily excited by