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#S07E10
icy-watch · 4 months
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Me: I'm so happy for him!
Also, me: *stressing bc Lloyd is still a child*
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cloudberrylane · 1 year
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Taskmaster (2018): I Can Hear it Gooping.
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not-supernatural · 5 months
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yeah. to the forehead
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samantitheos · 1 year
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"C'mere."
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👉🏻👉🏻 My Etsy shop.
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franklespine · 7 months
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Was no one going to warn me about s7e10 Deaths Door holy moly I am DEVASTATED. Man it was a really well done episode tho, maybe I just enjoy trippy brain sequences but I really loved the way all the things from the beginning, like the glass of milk being dropped out of nowhere in the church, the repetition of you 'break everything you touch', the idea that he's going to be punished by God, all of it coming back to that one memory of his parents was just so satisfying. You can really feel the presence of this memory in this episode, truly understand how its at the very core of his being, how its molded and shaped him; it's like it leaks through the gaps, almost resurfaces before Bobby shoves it back down again. And then coming back to Sam and Dean, being a better father to them than John ever was, sticking up for them to him, his 'saving the best for last' memory being of just an average mundane moment of them arguing - RAHHHHDFJWHFOWE HE LOVES THEM SO MUCH. Defending his younger self against his father, calling Sam and Dean his adopted sons, how they turned out just fine, 'heroes', oh my god I need a drink somebody sedate me.
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lower-the-volume · 7 months
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death's door
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scorpiomindfuck · 11 months
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I've only ever seen gifs of the part where Hotch trains for the triathlon and
EXCUSE ME SIR
No one told me he looked this good
Like he looks good in the gifs but HA
I had to pause and replay this first moment, geez
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thankstothe · 3 months
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Rating: Not Cute
Messing with twink to dilf pipeline is very damaging and can lead to a lasting trauma in an aspiring dilf
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starryeyesxx · 1 year
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frozenoj · 5 months
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This dynamic 🔥🔥🔥
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icy-watch · 4 months
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Umm
Your Uber is leaving without you.
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cloudberrylane · 1 year
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Taskmaster (2018): I Can Hear it Gooping.
Task. Physically recreate a classic computer game. Best recreation wins. You have 1 hour (James’ attempt).
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not-supernatural · 5 months
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no way theyre gonna force me to sit thru a bobby centric episode before he dies finally
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fieriframes · 5 months
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[My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home. My baby's taking me home.]
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seidraikiri · 3 months
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little post-s7e10 monk ficlet.
yes, stottlemeyer without a mustache. i was just as surprised as monk.
can find it here or on AO3.
“Y’know, I thought you'd like me better without the mustache.”
The plates are all stacked up behind him, he can hear Leland placing them where they belong. He preens, just a little before he turns around to face him.
It is still a bit odd—the captain without his mustache and clean shaven. He'd given it a thought before; mentioned it in a mumbled passing how it tickles and burns and scratches whenever they press against each other, Monk still building the confidence to get past soft kisses.
He remembers the little red marks that he'd noticed hours later, at a crime scene, on his wrist; he'd yelped thinking they were bites of some kind, rashes at the very worst but they had in the end, simply been the work of Leland's mustache burns left behind from the kisses he'd peppered on Monk's wrists the night before.
“I, well.” Monk starts, he's of the opposite opinion now. The Captain looks better with his mustache. “I guess I was wrong.”
“Wrong huh.” The Captain echoes smugly, tilting his head to the side as he tosses the handcloth into the bin. “Not often that you're wrong, Monk.”
Monk stutters, “I guess I do prefer the mustache now.”
The Captain eyes him in the corner of his eye, throwing out the rest of things Monk will never, ever use again and will throw away if he doesn't, “Do you?”
Ears aflame and nose crinkled in defeat Monk turns to rearrange the utensil drawer once more; the forks are always quite stubborn, never really staying still.
But he doesn't get the chance to slide the drawer open; one of the Captain's hands is at his waist—right, obviously, his right thumb is always fidgety, tracing circles against Monk's side, “I'm teasing.” The Captain says, smiling, his eyes crinkling and shining mischievously blue, “Though, ‘m afraid you can't knock it off till you try it.”
Monk's curiosity has always gotten the better of him. Even when his phobias come to shove, he battles them just as he does for any other thing and any other day, but there's a beseeching itchy feeling he just can't shake till he figures it out—or even better, manages to try it out.
Monk huffs, laughing quietly, nervously as the Captain keeps his hold light but encouraging.
Another step forward he has to take; and surprisingly actually wants to. The Captain is patient, waiting, his upturned smirk never falling.
He knows he's challenged Monk. And as much as Monk likes to think it, confess it and give into it; how lacking he is, how he rather wouldn't; he always takes it up.
A little lift of his toes, his left hand on the Captain's chest and his heavy, warm breath before everything is quiet and he feels the coldness melt away, a burst in his lungs that makes him not want to pull away but—but—
Leland is laughing, deep in his chest that Monk feels like he's the one laughing instead, “That bad huh?” He asks as Monk pulls away, nose crinkled.
“Bad? No. No. Not really.” Monk says, palm still against the Captain's chest, “Just, not really your style.”
The Captain snorts, eyebrows raised, “In that case, I guess I have no other choice but to grow it back.”
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