In this horror story, Mitch Grassi is sent to Hemingway's Home for Orphaned Boys after being kicked out of the previous shelter. He's taken aback by the amount of support all the boys show for one another and finds himself very much attracted to mystery boy "Roxas" as well as the mystery of the Hemingway mansion.

Beyond the world of Talk to Me, Dean is ensnared in the hands of the enemy lines. He is forced to a prisoner-of-war camp, where he must face the hardest times in his life, spurred on only by the thoughts of seeing his brother again, and the soldier that relied on him for his very life.

Teenage Sherlock

Mitch Grassi - better known as Lights by his housemates - meets face to face with death while trying to finish the war he'd started at the Hemingway's Home for Orphaned Boys. After losing four people in the short time he's been there, Lights will do whatever it takes to make sure no one else gets hurt, and in turn he will learn who to trust - and who not to.

With the Death Eaters becoming bolder and Voldemort's power on the rise, Harry must learn just what it takes to fight for the people he loves. Takes place directly after OotP. No binding charms, no creature mates, no comical potions disasters that leaves Harry and Severus stuck together, just time and a little understanding. AU from end of OotP on. Slash HP/SS STORY FINISHED ! (31 chapters) THIS STORY IS NOT MINE ! It belongs to "Aethen" who gave me the authorisation to publish it on my account. You can find them on fanfiction.net THE COVER IS NOT MINE ! I found it on the internet and couldn't find the person who draw it. If it belongs to you and you don't want me to use it I'll take it down. 14/01/2018 - 18/05/2018

Toen Robert nog 13 was had hij motivatie voor van alles en genoot hij van zijn eigen fantasie, maar dat maakte al snel plaats voor een eenzame depressieve levenswijze. * 22 jaar later* ........... Laat je verrassen, lees het verhaal en reis mee met het leven van de 35 jarige man : Robert Smitts.

Aziraphale would forgive him, of course. He always did. That had always been the Hell of it. It had been stupid to think things would be any different this time. It was a game they had been playing a long, long time, and he was all kinds of fool and idiot if he was going to suddenly start taking it seriously, even if only a few days ago he had thought Aziraphale was dead. Our side. It would be nice, really nice, if there was an *our side.* To be honest with himself, there was nothing in all the universe he wanted more. "I'll pick you up at eight," he repeated to the closed door, and headed back to the flat to take it out on the plants.

"Aziraphale debated internally a bit, but curling his arm up around Crowley's shoulder really was more comfortable. He knew he was being silly. He knew a dance was nothing and if it made Crowley happy after his feelings had apparently been hurt it wasn't much to ask, but-it was the demon. He had the literally infernal talent to make even the simplest, least dubious things feel like a temptation. Aziraphale knew it was Crowley's nature, and not strictly saying his fault, but it did sometimes make things feel *complicated*." Biarritz, South of France, 1921. Aziraphale stumbles on Crowley apparently working the hotels and casinos as a gigolo. At least, that's where it begins.

That was no way to think, just because a stupid ex-nun misinterpreted a blamelessly hostile situation. That way lay madness. That way lay an angel with disapprovingly pursed lips and pitying pale eyes and "My dear boy, I'm so *very* sorry, but..." and Armageddon would come as a relief after that, really.

A collection of one-shots primarily featuring Ineffable Husbands! *** Cover Art: F.GAR *** TWs: Blood/Gore, Accidental/Suicide