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Blueberry BlurbBlueberry Blurb
She stood there frozen in shock. Her once taught tummy was beginning to droop ever so slightly from her frame. Perhaps though what was even more unnerving to the poor girl was that her skin had just finished a transaction from a once rich tan, the sort you had from swimming ever day in the summer, to a most iridescent cerulean blue. As she stared at her hand, twisting it in the light she was forced to return her attention to her bulging belly. It was a surreal feeling to witness one's body grow so rapidly, as she poked her side to see if it was indeed real. To her dismay, she could feel the pressure of her pressing finger against her gut. She also detected a sloshing inside as she prodded. Hoping it was her imagination she pressed harder. The sloshing returned greater than before. Now as her belly reached a circumference akin to that of an expectant mother of three, the swelling lass felt a new sort of discomfort. Her already tight jeans began to stretch as her thighs b
The Panic Room (A Supernatural One-Shot)“Dean…? Dean?”
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
may as well buy another packcollapse, and breathe into the carpet:
sunday mornings are not
for falling apart, but damn
the amphorics, this
is not an atmosphere.
you fell in love like you always
wish you didn't, made all their
smiles replaceable, interchangeable,
fell asleep with shadows and kept
drinking, just letting yourself sleep
with blue pills
and tried not to scream.
(keep this image in your head:
fire and nectarines, a sudden jerk
of realization, inspiration
breaking your neck and leaving you forever
breaking bones is not so different
from breaking hearts - it's all about
the leverage, the angle, the mode
(and at least it wasn't personal;
it can color in your own guilt
for starting lines and never ending
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