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About Literature / Hobbyist Carly AnnFemale/United States Groups :iconall-art-acceptions: All-Art-Acceptions
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And I'll run for miles just to get a taste :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 1 0
Keep Calm and Stop Bein' an Idjit by Raphi-girl Keep Calm and Stop Bein' an Idjit :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 5 0 Sam And Dean Are Soulmates by Raphi-girl
Mature content
Sam And Dean Are Soulmates :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 2 0
Mature content
Hey Jude :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 2 0
Jensen Doing The Wop by Raphi-girl Jensen Doing The Wop :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 11 9 Starfire, Mar'i, and Robin by Raphi-girl Starfire, Mar'i, and Robin :iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 5 1
Mama, He's Crazy
Mrs. Deanna Campbell loved her family. Her family came before everything, before the Hunt, before any monster the Supernatural World could throw at her. As much as Samuel insisted that the Hunt was important, Deanna couldn't help bit think he was a bit...oh, what's the word she was looking for?
Not that she could blame him, Deanna had seen what was out there. She'd killed monsters, laid ghosts to rest, put her husband back together again after an injury, and much more.
She only wanted what was best for her family. She wanted them safe. She wanted them happy. Deanna thought that everything at the moment was perfect. Her husband had invented a flaming-axe throwing contraption to quickly dispatch vampires (and werewolves if a silver axe was used) and her daughter had finally gotten more involved in the Hunt.
Then her daughter came home with The Face.
She knew what it was, hell, she'd worn the look herself when she found Samuel. Her daughter, however, was a different story. Deann
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 2 3
Hurry Home
He was a lot of things.
Bruce Wayne. Eccentric billionaire.
Batman. Superhero. Bringer of justice.
A complete and total asshole too.
The dark knight sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him when realization slapped him in the face.
He’d tried to take Robin away from Dick.
He’d tried to take Robin away from Dick.
Bruce pushed the cowl back from his face as he picked up his phone. Well, his person cell phone, that is. He could count on one hand, the number of people that actually had the number.
And Dick was one of them.
You are about to change your pre-set voicemail message. Please begin your personalized message after the tone.
Bruce began sighed deeply and began speaking, “Listen, uh, it doesn’t matter what you’ve done and what happened, I still love you, okay? It doesn’t matter where you’ve been or where you’ve gone, you can always come home to the Manor. And listen, Brat,
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 5 4
One Last Trick
Gabriel gazed at the shapeshifter he had tied to a chair in front of him, mentally forcing his will on the thing, “Alright, buddy, I need you to listen up. I don’t wanna die. I really, really, really like this shirt and Luci is probably still pretty damn butt hurt about being kicked out of the house and locked in the Cage and if I show up, he’s gonna blast me or stab me. That, my little copy-cat friend is where you come in.
Gabe hoped the extra mojo he slathered on the shapeshifter could fool Lucifer. The last time Luci caught him in a lie (“Yeah, man, Dad’s gonna love this ‘Platypus’ thing! You should show him!”), it had taken him two centuries to grow the feathers on his top left wing back (and three for him to start talking to the trickster angel again). If he faked him out here and Luce found out…
Well, there wasn’t a place in the Universe Gabriel could hide to keep his hellacious brother from killing him.
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 2 3
With a Broken Wing
He knows he's the least broken in his family.
Bruce's parents were killed right in front of him when he was twelve. Jason's mom was an addict and his dad was hired muscle for Two-Face, not to mention he's been killed how many times?
Tim's parents were never really around, but his mom was still killed and his dad paralyzed. Then, his dad was pretty pissed about the whole “You're Robin?!” thing and was stabbed in the heart by Captain Boomerang.
Steph's dad was a villain, Babs was paralyzed by the freaking Joker, and Cass' parents were assassins and she was still learning to talk and read and write, for God's sake!
Damian had Talia al Ghul and Bruce as his parents. It doesn't get much worse than that.
Himself? Sure his parents were killed, but he was six when it happened. By the time he really understood that his Mamí and Tatí weren't coming back, he'd been with Bruce for years. So yeah, he was by far the least broken.
Don't get him wrong, there are day
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 16 3
Travelin' Soldier
Two days past eighteen,
He was waiting for the bus in his army greens,
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there,
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair.
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile,
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while,
And talking to me,
I'm feeling a little low.
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go.

John Eric Winchester was many things. Nervous. Scared.
Ready to do his country proud.
He was eighteen, at least he was on the enlistment form, and on his way to do good in the world. Be the All-American Hero he wanted to be.
“Ya’ daddy run off on ya’ Mama, John-boy, an’ you’s lookin’ to do the same?” Grandpa Carl had spat at him two days ago, “Well, ain’t ya’ just ya’ daddy’s son! No doubt ya’ be pissin’ ya’ pants the second ya’ land o’er there, ya’ lil’ shit!”
John huffed as he slid into a bo
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 3 3
10. I Do
"Who's got the best big brother in the world?"
He must have said it a thousand times. Sarcastic or not, he said it. Over and over, a broken record. A question asked so many times, Sam wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze.
Sam had heard other people ask it, trying to gloat about what they thought they had, but they were wrong every time. He alone knew the answer.
He'd heard it said for as long as he could remember
No matter who asked, no matter if it was seriously said or not, Sam knew his line by heart.
"I do."
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 0 0
9. You and Me
"It’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right?"
Leaving for Stanford wasn't really his idea of Heaven. Yeah, he got away from his dad, but the damn man told him never to come back. Really? Did his big brother, the one he had been hero-worshiping since birth, really think that?
What about the Christmas he gave the Amulet to him? He saw that too. Sure, he wasn't with Dean when he saw that part of his Heaven, but he still remembered it.
What about all the bedtime stories his big brother read to him? What about the hundreds of times he had his brother look in the closet and under the bed to make sure there weren't any monsters hiding? What about every time they played hide and seek or tag in Bobby's house or in the old cars?
What about every damn minute of his life?
Yeah, he did like leaving for Stanford. It was his first real stand as his own man.
But that was not his idea of Heaven.
It wasn't even close.
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 0 0
8. Riddle
When it came right down to it, monsters were just giant puzzles. Riddles, even.
What created them? Where did they draw their power from? Was there a victim pattern? How often did they appear? What was their weakness?
This was the part of hunting he really liked. Finding the lore and figuring out how to kill the damn thing was, well, fun.
Growing up, he never had a knack for the actual killing part of the hunt. Sure, he eventually grew up and got good at it, but there was only so many times you could get torn to shreds before saying, "Screw it, someone teach me what the hell I'm supposed to do.".
The lore part? That was his domain. He ruled at finding information.
Dean was just as good, if not better than he was, but his big brother liked being lazy.
And he liked when Sam felt good about himself, but let's just keep that a secret between us, okay?
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 0 0
7. Alley
Bars really sucked, when he really thought about it. Good beer, hot chicks, a good game of pool or poker, hell yeah, but the bar fights that ended in the alleyways sucked ass.
Nine times out of ten, the dumbass he'd somehow pissed off had a broken bottle in hand and was already three sheets to the wind.
And half the time, that drunk dumbass actually landed a hit too. Only because he'd been enjoying his drink as well but, eh, details, right?
But ten times out of those same ten times, a six-foot-four-inches Labrador puppy would come to his rescue.
Dog-Boy would kick the drunk dumbass' ass, then drag the other drunk dumbass to their motel room, patch him up, dress him in night clothes, then put him to bed.
If only he could train the Bitch not to whine when he had a hangover...
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 0 0
6. New Love
His mother will always be his first love, no matter what he tells you.
Sure, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, take you to bed, and rock your world, honey, you're nothing, but another notch in his proverbial bed post, another score on the board.
If you think for one minute, that he values you most, you're dead wrong.
He'll tease the hell out of him, sure. Make fun of his food and hair, yeah. Be a general pain in the ass, it's part of the job description.
His mother will always be his first love, never forget that. His little brother will always be his new love, don't doubt it for a second.
:iconraphi-girl:Raphi-girl 0 0

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“Aquí está,” Carmen used a serrated knife to cut Leonardo free from the net that he was previously stuck in, “I tol' ju the plan and now we 'ave to keep going.”
Leo nodded as he started to get the feeling back in his limbs, “Right.”
On that note, Carmen grabbed her purse and pulled out her eyeshadow palette, “No te mueves, don' move.”
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"I'm lookin for the one with the glass slipper. Baby girl, you could be my Cinderella."
~Chris Brown, Umbrella (Cinderella).

"Romantic?" Raphael almost had beer shoot through his nostrils, "Mikey, romantic? Lemme tell ya' somethin' Sweetheart, if there's one thing my little brother ain't it's romantic!"
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“It just comes back in flashes...y'know?” ~Taylor Swift

Reports? Filed, check. Same reports but in Spanish? Filed as well, another check.
Time to break for lunch? Right on schedule. Now, if she could just find her scarf...
“Lose something, Dosage?” Detective Christopher Longer stood in the door way of Areli's office with her formerly missing scarf in hand.
Areli sighed, he'd taken to calling her 'Dosage' in reference to her last name, Mendoza and the end part that was very close to 'dose'. Of course, she had a little nickname for him too.
“Well, if it isn't Detective Can't Last,” The reporter quipped, “And as a matter of fact, yes, I did lose something.”
Chris walked over to her desk and put her scarf around her neck, “Let's get out of here.”
Smiling at this, Areli got up from her desk and the pair headed out to lunch, they'd gone a little bistro on Park Ave...

* * *
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Donnie was an idiot.

Not in the intelligence tense, of course. He lacks brains for romance.

Which is exactly why Eve had been avoiding him all day.

After being pouted and glared out of their apartment, he'd spent the rest of the day in the Lair, content to do some experiments in his lab, occasionally leaving for snacks.

He knows he's not good at romance. He knows the best he's ever done is a box of chocolates, while they cuddled on their couch watching The Notebook. He doesn't see the logic in buying her flowers, they'd die eventually, and really, is that the message he wants to send? That this beautiful organic matter will eventually die, along with all the other embarrassing and pointless facts he learned about said flowers because he just had to know which ones were the right ones?

Donnie is not a huge fan of horticulture.

He's has to go home eventually. Any minute know Mikey's bound to burst in with something mildly annoying and Don's already kind of sad about Eve being mad at him, he doesn't want to add a headache on top.

He pushes his goggles up with a sigh, he'd might as well go back and try to fix what ever he did.

When he get's home and flips the light switch, nothing happens. Which is really strange since he literally just invented a new type of light bulb that should theoretically last for at least ten years before burning out.

Could his calculations have been wrong? He could swear he and Leatherhead had octuple checked the math. There was no way it could have burnt out!

He sighs, a little discouraged. Eve's not all that fond of the dark and he knows that they don't have any more of his light bulbs because he'd only brought enough for each light in the apartment, which in hindsight, was not very smart.

He's rubbing his face in frustration when he notices a faint, flickering light coming from their bedroom. He's kind of hoping Eve didn't go out and leave one of her candles lit, God knows how many times he's gone overboard explaining the importance of fire safety. He's been through enough small blazes in his lab, he doesn't want to risk his home, even in the slightest.

Don's grumbling as he makes his way to their room, but the moment he enters, he stops, dumbstruck.

Their queen-sized bed and solid wood nightstands, that took them five hours to put in the right spots are completely gone. There are candles of varying colors, styles, scents, and states of melting all around the room, on the floor and on all the shelves.

Perhaps what concerns him the most is the chair, that purely Godawful chair that Eve for some inexpiable reason loves is sitting in the middle of the room.

For the first time since he walked through the door, he feels somewhat scared.

"Hey, babe." Eve whispers huskily from behind him as she wraps him in her arms for a quick hug, "I'm gonna give you a lesson in romance."

Don swallows, "O-oh?"

"You, my love, are gonna sit in my chair, relax, and wait for me." she blows on the back of Don's neck because she knows that one of his 'things', "There's no need to be afraid. Really, this'll be a treat for the both of us."

He's nervous, excited, and also a little scared when the music starts and Eve struts back into the room, barefoot, dressed in an outfit he's never seen before.

Which, now that he thinks about it, is completely believable. His girl has an obscene amount of clothes.

He's not even sure where she got the lavender bustier with a fine lace trim, but he kind of doesn't care. He's a little worried about the royal purple, faux-fur cropped vest because he knows how sensitive her skin is to synthetic furs, but he can't seem to find the words to voice his concerns. His eyes land on her shorts next, they honestly looked liked she'd had them painted on and the silk bolts of fabric on each side shimmer in the candlelight.

Don's already feeling lightheaded, but his vision really starts to dim when he sees those damn fishnets that Mikey had given them as a joke.

He's both ashamed and a little shocked at the primal pleasure at seeing Eve wear his color.

"And you got me like oh," Eve croons, "What you want from me?"

What you want from me?

"And I tried to buy your pretty heart, but the price too high," she smiles, her eyes hooded as she walks her fingers up Don's arm, "Baby, you got me oh, mhm. You love when I fall apart."

Fall apart.

Eve sways her hips as she leans in closer, "So you can put me together, and throw me against the wall."

"Baby, you got me ah! Woo. Ah!" She arches her back ash she thrusts her hips towards him, "Don't stop loving me."

Loving me.

"Don't quit loving me."

Loving me.

"Just start loving me."

Loving me.

"Oh! And babe, I'm fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you," Eve throws her self towards him and scratches her nails down Don's carapace, "Can we burn something, babe?"

"And I'll run for miles just to get taste," She growls as she presses her forehead to his for a moment before spinning off and away, from him "Must be love on the brain."

At this point Don is mesmerized, incapable of thought as he watches her smooth back, and the silk sway.

"That's got me feeling this way."

Feeling this way.

Eve spins back around and grabs Don gently by the throat and taps her fingers to the beat, "It beats me black and blue, but it fucks me so good and I can't get enough! Must be love on the brain, yeah."

"And it keeps cursing my name."

Cursing my name.

She climbs on his lap and grinds down roughly, "No matter what I do, I'm no good without you and I can't get enough! Must be love on the…"


"Then you keep loving me," Eve sways on his lap, the silk on her shorts and her fingers dancing lightly on Don's thighs as she smiles, "Just love me, yeah."

"All you need to do is love me, yeah."

Eve bites her lip and chokes out the words as she cocks her hips to the rhythm, "Got me like—ah! Ah! Ah! Ow!"

"I'm tired of being played like a violin," she cries as she cups Don's head with her hands, "What do I gotta do yo get in your motherfuckin' heart?"

"Baby, like—ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Whoo!  Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" Eve shudders as Don instinctively cups her bottom and squeezes, "Don't you stop loving me."

Loving me.

"Don't quit loving me."

Loving me.

"Just start loving me."

Loving me.

"Oh, and, babe, I'm fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you." Eve throws her head around wildly, "Can we burn something, babe?"

"And I'll run for miles just to get a taste," Eve undulates her body as she rubs down on Don's lap, "Must be love on the brain."

"That's got me feeling this way."

Feeling this way.

Eve smoothly gets to her feet on the couch and stands, her hips close to Don's face and his hands gripping her calves as she scratches at his head, "It beats me black and blue, but it fucks me so good, and I can't get enough. Must be love on brain!"

"It keeps cursing my name."

Cursing my name.

She hooks one leg over Don's shoulder and uses him to rotate her hips, "No matter what I do, I no good without you and I can't get enough! Must be love on the…"

Eve grinds her pelvis on his face one last time before sliding down to rest in his lap and croons against his lips in a soft whisper, "Brain."

The music stops, finally, and the only sounds in the room is their breathing, both of them gasping for oxygen. Don stares, mesmerized by the woman he gets to call his girlfriend.

"So, baby?" Eve murmurs as she trails slow, wet kisses around Don's throat, "Did you at least learn something?"

"Just…love you…so much." Don says his voice coming out strangled, "Holy shell, you really do learn something every day."


Journal Entry: Sun Apr 26, 2015, 7:05 PM
I'm alive I guess. 

I'm just really tired. 

I want to write.

But at the same time don't want to deal with the hand/arm cramps.

I even have some stuff written.

But I don't want to type it.

You know what, I'm just gonna go to bed. 


Carly Ann
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I live in kentucky, so other than mow the lawn, read, and watch TV, drawing is the only other hobby that can occupy my attention.

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gxfan537 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2017
Happy Birthday! *hugs you* :3
gxfan537 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2016
Happy Birthday! *hugs you* :)
Joeycool1210 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2015
Happy birthday.
gxfan537 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2015
Happy Birthday! *hugs you*…
ZeitExmind Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
thx for the fave!! you are amazing :D
chelsea0230 Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav :)
To-Ka-Ro Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2015  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav! If you're interested, please feel free to roam around the gallery :nod: 
chelsea0230 Featured By Owner May 29, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav :)
Chiichiichan94 Featured By Owner May 29, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanx for all the favs :hug: truly means a lot :D
Bat-Boy101 Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav! :D
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