Things are going pretty well for me. I've discovered I really, really enjoy writing Sherlock Fanfic (And I'm pretty good at it), I didn't spend Valentines Day curled in a corner sobbing and I've made some new LJ Flisties (*Waves to you*).
I've also been really nice to my mother lately, which is wierd. Her and I are not the ideal mother/daughter
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Sam slams his book closed, glares in Lucifer’s direction and nearly says something, but Dean gives him one of those looks, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining that Lucifer is being a whiney bitch.
“I am not!” His eyes narrow. “I’m just bored. Come on, give me something to entertain myself with.”
It happens in a blink, and Sam’s really not sure what just happened, because now Cas is standing beside Lucifer with no shirt of and might be kissing fucking satan. His fingers are carding through Lucifer’s hair, pulling on it to expose his throat. Sam shifts in his seat ( ... )
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YOU HAVE TITLES TOO.
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