#// every ask you send me is a goddamn delight. thank you for always blessing my inbox.

[aurivore]

hands him the drip ❝ get in the goddamn SUPREME jacket.❞

"Fool. Anything which adorns the King's body is already SUPREME."

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Your style of description is a true delight to read, thank you for blessing us with all the yiga content,

How about some Sooga body worshipping his master?~

Thank you! And yes you can! (also you can totally send in ANY botw/aoc content, not just the husbands! People just seem to like them the most)

Kohga groaned as he slowly woke up. He slept pretty damn hard last night, and for a second, he had no idea where he even was. Right, they switched it up, and they had done some hanky panky in Sooga’s room. It was smaller than his own, but in a way, it was comfy. Though, Sooga kept it way too clean for his liking. It was so stiff and neat. Though, it suited the guy in question, he supposed. He was about to pick up his clothes from the floor, before the door to the room opened. Sooga. He was always a morning riser.

“Ah, you’re awake. I brought you breakfast.”

“Surprised you can walk, given last night.”

Kohga chuckled to himself. He was a real beast in the sack (not that it was any surprise to anyone). Sooga nodded, before bringing the tray to Master Kohga. A freshly made honey crepe, served with fried bananas, one hard boiled egg, and a piece of salt grilled meat (specifically red tusked boar. Kohga can tell the difference). Topped with a nice noble pursuit, Kohga was in breakfast in bed heaven. Kohga helped himself to the crepe first, and upon tasting it, he knew something was up.

“This is...good. Really good.”

“As it should be.”

Sooga seemed curious by his glare, and he apparently needed it to be explained to him.

“You suck at making crepes. You didn’t make this.”

“I...did not. I tried, but I burnt it.”

He was hopeless. An absolute himbo of a boyfriend. And did Kohga fucking love him. Kohga rolled his eyes, before continuing to tuck in.

“Next time, give it to me anyway.”

“Don’t...you want good food?”

Sooga asked, sitting right by Kohga’s side, ready to do whatever he wanted at any given second, like usual. Kohga tucked into the bananas, and knew it was the one thing Sooga made (he always added a bit too much sugar cane. Just a little).

“I want food YOU made me. Even if it kills me. I mean don’t TRY to kill me, but you get the idea. You’re my boyfriend, it’s just a thing we do for each other. Besides, it’ll help you be a better cook.”

Sooga seemed puzzled, before he softly chuckled.

“I...understand. I will make a note to try to perfect my skills. You deserve nothing less than perfect.”

“True. But we can’t all be perfect. You’re hot, you’re sweet, you can fight, that’s a pretty big deal.”

Kohga kept eating, before he caught Sooga smiling at him. He was sitting there like an idiot, swooning at him. Kohga stuffed his mouth full of the salted meat, eating it alongside the hard boiled egg. He swallowed, putting the remainder of his food down.

“What are you starin’ at?”

“I just...really think you’re perfect. I’m sorry, is me watching you eat disrupting you?”

Kohga motioned for him to take the tray, and Sooga obeyed, just putting it out of reach. Minus his drink of course. Kohga shook his head.

“No no no, I love the attention. But I’m just saying, you look like you wanna say something.”

Sooga hesitated, before Kohga prompted him with his hand. Sooga took his free hand, and massaged it carefully in his own hand.

“It’s just...seeing you in my bed feels like a dream. I’ve had men in my bed before, but no one I was in love with. No one like you. No one who is so perfect.”

“Go on.”

Kohga chuckled. He sensed some praise kink coming on, and who was he to tell his man no? He took a sip of his drink (he could tell Sooga didn’t make this one, this was actually kinda strong, Sooga always made shit light), and let Sooga do his thing. He pushed his mask back, just a bit, kissing the back of his hand.

“I Love everything about you. I love how soft your hands are. I love watching them when you fight. They’re so nimble, so skilled, I’m envious of them.”

Kohga chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. This was the life. A big, lovesick man, a drink in his hand, and a belly full of food, all without leaving his bed. Sooga kissed the back of his hand, each and every single finger, and his palm. This was the first time he kissed his bare hand, rather than through his uniform, so he was a BIT more eager than usual.

“Go on, what else?”

“I love your belly. I love how big and beautiful it is. I love how soft it feels. I love how it makes you look distinguished with it, I love how I ALWAYS want to rest my head upon it.”

Sweet talker, this one was. He even put his hand down in order to crawl into bed, and kiss his bare belly. He could tell Sooga was just a BIT too excited about it, given how plentiful the kisses were on his bare belly, but who was he to stop him? Kohga took another sip, grinning at the lovesick puppy in his arms.

“You hear some of the footsoldiers calling it ‘poochy’?”

“Yes, I’m quite aware, and I find myself accidentally saying it sometimes.”

Kohga snickered. It was a stupid thing that got started a while ago, and he personally didn’t mind it. 

“So you like my ‘poochy tummy’?”

Sooga looked up at him with an almost exhausted expression, before nodding.

“Yes, I like your ‘poochy tummy’. And your ability to make me say something ridiculous, just for the sake of your amusement.”

Kohga took another swig, trying not to grin.

“Uh huh. What else do you like about me?”

He gave his stomach one more kiss, before he lifted himself up, and started to play with Kohga’s messy, curly hair.

“I love your hair. So soft and beautiful, so soft and wonderful. I could play with it for hours, days even. It always smells like mighty thistles, and I love how only I’ve seen it down like this. I love when you let me watch you put it up. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Kohga grinned, giving him a moment to play with his hair. He knew it was pretty, and knew HE was pretty. He let Sooga have his moment to worship him, before he gestured him to on.

“Go on, something else.”

“I love your lips. I love how they’re more beautiful than any flower in any part of Hyrule. I love how they’re softer than rito feathers.”

Sooga pressed his lips against his. Once, twice, thrice. After a while Kohga lost count. Big, handsome man ravishing him like that? Oof, it killed him. Kohga parted after a moment, clearly satisfied by Sooga’s worship. He was giving him such loving, such bedroom eyes.

“Hmmm...you DO like my lips…~”

“I like many other things about you, Master Kohga.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Sooga pulled away the sheet, making Kohga totally nude again.

“I could tell you...Or I could show you.”

Kohga didn't have time to respond before Sooga nearly pounced on him, making Kohga drop his drink.

“Sooga! You dropped my drink!”

“Fix it later.”

He mumbled, nearly pinning Kohga down by his weight, and showering his neck in kisses.

“Soooooga!!”

Kohga would allow a spilled drink. Just once. He was lucky he was so goddamn cute.

[leupagus]

you will miss the green and the woods and streams

A Schitt’s Creek AU thing I wrote for @broadlybrazen, which boils down to “lol what if Schitt’s Creek had been Schitt Records can you imagine.” 

You’re welcome/I’m sorry.

***

“Okay, but why are you making me do this.” David doesn’t ask, because it’s not a question; it’s a declaration, something he’s learned in the long years since he and Stevie were coworkers, then friends, then — something, almost, not quite — and now they’re people who drag each other to shitty bars in shitty basements in shitty Toronto, except only Stevie is that.

“I’m not making you do anything,” Stevie lies right to his actual face as they collect her beer and his wine from the bartender. “You offered to comfort me.”

“I don’t think I said ‘comfort’ so much as I said ‘support you in your time of—‘“ he waves at her generally, carefully not to spill. “Loss, or whatever.”

Not that Jake qualifies as a loss, per se; he hadn’t even tried to get out of the contract, which Stevie keeps saying is the important thing. And David of all people knows that above-average sex can only take you so far when the other guy is an emotionally illiterate carpenter/rockstar who responded to a breakup text with “bummer :P”

“Well, this is you supporting me.” Stevie takes a swig and leans back against the bar; David admires the clean line of her neck and chest the way he’s done a thousand times before, absentminded appreciation the way he looks at a beautiful coat or listens to a new record; letting it slip through his fingers, like everything else.

“You’re not…performing, are you,” David doesn’t-ask.

Stevie gives him a long look. “You’ve known me for over two years,” she says, even. “Do you think I’m likely to break out into song?”

“You’re a talent scout for a major record label,” he feels obliged to point out.

“Uh, first of all, it’s not major, and second of all, so are you,” she says.

This is, sadly, irrefutable.

*

When Ira disappeared to God knew where with the keys to the Rose family fortune, their lawyer had pulled them all into the living room with a chipper expression and a folder. David hadn’t listened, the sounds of furniture, paintings, his life being carted out the door overwhelming everything else. But Dad’s voice cut through.

“Schitt Records? That was a joke—“ and it still is a joke, almost two and a half years later. The biggest joke in the music industry, and David hears the laughter everywhere he goes.

*

Roland Schitt had been managing his wife and an extremely chipper singer-songwriter who went by “Twyla” and did tarot card readings after every set. Schitt Records was worth approximately nothing; probably why the government had let them keep it. When Dad finally exercised his ownership clause and made Roland an ex-officio (read: non-voting) board member, Roland had actually cackled with delight and wished them all the best, taking his “President of” title and a small stipend with him. Jocelyn and Twyla stuck around, although David still isn’t sure that Twyla’s all that aware of the change in management.

And anyway, as far as David’s concerned, the only thing of value at Schitt Records, at least at first, was Stevie.

*

They’d put Alexis back in the studio for want of any better ideas; David had found a semi-decent, semi-sober songwriter to give her some of the songs Meghan and Ariana had rejected. “Pullin’ Up Alexis” didn’t so much as crack the top 200 but it had put Schitt Records in the black, at least, even if Alexis did go white-faced and brittle at the awful venues David coaxed her into for the better part of a year — county fairs and no-name festivals where the audience wanted to jeer and heckle, where her dancing would get her laughed offstage if her singing didn’t. But every time he’d tell her she could quit (she couldn’t) and that they’d find another way to get the company on its feet (they wouldn’t), she’d lift her chin and smile and ask her where they were going next, and David loved her more than he’d ever, ever tell her.

And when the tour ended, David gritted his teeth and went out with Stevie to find something else. They found Ronnie, who hates them all but has hands like an angel on the piano; Jake who’s prettier onstage than off but who can draw a reliable crowd; even Ray, whose one-man band act is surprisingly lucrative, though David suspects that’s because anyone who listens can’t actually believe what’s happening.

Schitt Records still isn’t worth buying, but it’s worth something, now; worth spending late nights in small towns, worth sleepless weekends working festivals, worth more than David had ever expected to find.

But he’s still looking, he knows, for something else.

*

Even more insultingly, the open mic has a theme; “90’s Nostalgia!” which means too many bad covers of Alanis and one truly offensive attempt at “I Will Always Love You” that has David ordering his next glass of wine in a pint glass.

Stevie is laughing, though — she’s happy, in tune with the crowd who are clearly here for their respective friends onstage, leading the shaky ones through their choruses and cheering with far more enthusiasm than is merited when each of them wraps up.

“This is horrifying,” David tells her as some guy in his 60s gets gently ushered offstage and there’s a blessed lull.

“I know,” Stevie replies, eyes shining. “It’s great.”

And it is, in a weird way that David would never have enjoyed in his other life; he would never have set foot in here, would never have been friends with someone as grounded and solid and plaid as Stevie in the first place. So he takes a drink and doesn’t suggest they leave, but does pick a fight about sending Ray to ACL.

Stevie obligingly takes the bait and they’re halfway through the comfortable old argument about riders when David realizes the strummy-strummy lala in the background is a) recognizable, b) good, and c) infuriating.

The guy onstage is best described as “unprepossessing accountant,” wearing an ugly shirt and ugly slacks and uglier shoes and an astonishingly ugly fringed vest that’s probably (hopefully) a joke, judging by the wolf whistles from a table near the stage. But he’s got a smile like a searchlight as he rounds the corner of the first verse:

“I’m caught up in the midst of you And I cannot resist…”

David flails around until he makes contact with Stevie’s — okay, her face, which she’ll probably complain about later, but he’s too incensed. “He’s singing Mariah?”

Stevie swats his hand away. “He’s not bad.”

“I—“ David clutches at his pint glass. Fringed Vest, still grinning into the crowd and unaware of David’s newborn vendetta against him, continues.

Boy, if I do The things you want me to The way I used to do Would you love me, baby Hold me, feeling now Go and break my heart

The entire bar joins in on the chorus, Fringed Vest leading them like some hick accountant Pied Piper:

Heartbreaker, you got the best of me But I just keep on coming back incessantly Oh, why did you have to run your game on me I should have known right from the start You'd go and break my heart

Fringed Vest does not, thank God, try his hand at rapping the break but the crowd seems reluctant to let him actually finish the song, the choruses getting progressively louder and more boisterous until Fringed Vest puts a line underneath and steps back from the mic and they finally take the goddamn hint.

“That was—“ awful, he’s about to say, but the problem is that it wasn’t. There’s not a whole lot a Canadian accountant can add to Mariah Carey, especially with the advent of Lip Synch Battle. But it hadn’t felt patronizing or mocking; Fringed Vest knew every word, sang with a voice that couldn’t hold a match to Mariah but still expressed some sort of longing. He’d been joyful, earnest where most people tonight had clung to trite. It… worked.

He’s even more enraged.

“C’mon,” Stevie says, slipping through the crowd with the weary ease of someone who’s been doing this half her life. David tromps behind in her wake, bumping up against the same people Stevie glides past and almost losing her twice before she gets to the dinky curtain that is the backstage and ducking inside.

Which smells like vomit; David immediately flips through the various acts tonight and makes a bet with himself that it was the very sweet otter with the beard and the accordion even while Stevie is making her way over to the side of the stage where Fringed Vest is talking to somebody else and drinking — god, Red Mountain, David is vetoing any contract Stevie tries to push on this guy for that alone.

But Stevie’s introducing them and Fringed Vest extends a hand. “Patrick,” he says, grip firm. Up close he’s — not attractive, exactly, no eyebrows to speak of and a haircut that screams middle management, that smile still the most interesting thing about him. But it’s very interesting.

“David,” he admits, aware of Stevie’s narrowed eyes.

“David Rose,” Patrick says, worryingly. “You own Schitt Records.”

He blinks; this is possibly the first time anyone’s said the name of the company without smirking. “Co-own,” he corrects.

“You manage a friend of mine,” Patrick continues, “Ray? Butani?”

“We only manage one Ray, don’t worry,” Stevie tells him.

“How are you friends with Ray?” David demands. “He plays a vibraphone.”

“We both went to Rotman,” and that explains so much about both Ray and Patrick. “He was pretty excited when he signed.”

“Yes, the glamour of the pub circuit,” David says. “Who can resist the allure of all this,” and he almost hits a girl with beads in her hair and a banjo in her hand climbing onstage.

“It’s got its charms,” Patrick says, still smiling.

*

[orionsangel86]

13x12 - Episode Review - What is Fifth Base Anyway?

So the people at Google must have been confused when they discovered the number of searches for “fifth base” drastically went up overnight… Steve Yokey you cheeky bugger I love you! (Show of hands everyone who did this? Go on, admit it!)

This episode was really good. One of the stronger ones of an already very strong bunch as season 13 continues to exceed in quality. It had jokes, it had deep emotional revelations, it had Cas once again using his SuperPower of sassing the fuck out of things to get what he wants. Yeah it was pretty awesome! So let’s delve into the main points.

The Red Herring Love Spell

We were all expecting this to be an episode similar to 12x11 based on how it was marketed to us. Dean is under a love spell! It’s up to Sam and Rowena to save him! That seemed to be the gist of the PR team’s focus. As ever, PR is not Showrunning and this turned out to be one giant red herring.

The love spell lasted all of five minutes. So why bother? WHY was a love spell even PART of this plot?! Seriously? Someone tell me how this episode couldn’t have followed the EXACT same narrative with the sisters using some other spell to force people to do things for them? The fact is, that love spell was pointless for the plot but excellent for getting people thinking about LOVE. Specifically, Dean Winchester and LOVE, or at least, what love should be, and what it most definitely is not.

Aside from the fact that the clunky music whenever the love spell was invoked made me cringe, I thoroughly enjoyed how innocent it all seemed. Dean got to play Prince Charming to the princess and provide her with a gift of her choosing. I think it says something about Dean that the love spell encouraged this fairy tale vibe specifically for him, when for Dale at the start it was all about him playing protector and hero through violence and theft. I just thought it was an interesting statement about Dean’s wishes and desires compared to other men. Though I gotta admit, the gift giving, goofiness and oh I dunno, protecting his lover from a gun? It all seemed rather familiar to me… Hmmm…

I mean who else has Dean previously entrusted with powerful one off weapons?

Who else has Dean had to recently protect from a pointed gun much to his own horror rather than the recipient who is unlikely to be harmed by a regular gun anyway?

Who else makes Dean goofy and pull these silly delighted faces?

*looks into the camera like on the Office*

Yeah, but see these are not really examples of true love, even though they are all things done with Cas. What IS true love in season 13 is something that subtextually KEEPs getting referred to in EVERY EPISODE. That in 13x01 – 13x05 Dean was deeply lost in grief. Deeply mourning over the loss of Cas – someone who he is truly in love with. Love makes you do crazy things? Yeah, and as Billy said in 13x05 (Yokey’s last episode FYI) Dean wanted to die. Cas’s death had brought him to that level. The fact that now it is SAM who is feeling low, feeling powerless because of the loss of Mary and Jack, and Dean is able to remain focussed and have HOPE that they will save them, continues to be astonishingly hypocritical of Dean given where he was when Cas was dead. But it does keep drawing our attention to that fact, and for that I love it.

Bonus point for “I think you may be right, I think its time we go ahead and call Cas…” … “I’m in love” because Yokey could have written Sam saying ANYTHING at that point but he chose to remind the audience about Cas at that exact moment… as Dean announces he is in love, because the two are connected (and because it then wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to assume that Sam’s initial reaction is “Oh… so you finally admit it?”)

(FYI this crappy gif is my own. Don’t judge. It’s the first I’ve ever made.)

Sam’s mild amusement here just fits the “oh so you finally admit it? We can call Cas and start the wedding preparations?” interpretation and NO ONE can stop me seeing it that way! :D

Bonus Point two for the mentions of “Soulmates” (which relate to Angels in the show) and “Cosmic” (which again, tends to relate to angels and Cas).

Bonus point three that this is an episodes marketed as Dean being in love! LOOK AT ALL THIS HETEROSEXUALITY! It seems to scream at our general audiences, and yet, as always in SPN, if the GA are seeking heterosexuality, they are to be disappointed. They got a 5 minute mini love spell plot and Dean once again is without even a hint of an actual true female romantic partner. Nope, sorry heteros seeking a woman for Dean. You won’t find that here!

Basically, it’s not too much of a stretch to interpret this entire love spell mini plot as exposition for the TRUTH regarding Dean and “true love”. Because we all know it. It’s right there in the subtext. I just wish they’d make it text already.

Review continues under the cut as per usual...

Addressing Long unspoken Trauma – FINALLY

Officially my favourite part of the episode (unofficially my second fave part after “fifth base”), the conversations between Sam and Rowena about their trauma at the hands of Lucifer had me welling up. This is the first time in SPN history that Sam has actually opened up to ANYONE about his Lucifer trauma. Read that again. Be amazed that it has taken this long. Send Dabb and Yokey a fruit basket for this.

One thing season 13 has been excellent at doing, is making things textual that were previously only implied. This seems to be a continued trend following on from the reveal in 12x22 that Dean is effectively Sam’s parent (A fact meta writers have been talking about for YEARS.)

I don’t really have much to say about it actually, because it’s all just THERE in the text. It has left me kind of speechless.

SAM: Its not gonna change anything, you’re still gonna feel helpless. What Lucifer did to you…

ROWENA: I told you I don’t… before he crushed my skull, Lucifer showed me his face. His true face. I’m scared Sam. All the time.

SAM: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind… behind whatever vessel… yeah it still keeps me up at night.

ROWENA: How do you deal with it?

SAM: I guess I don’t deal with it, not really. I mean I…Ive pushed it down, and the world kept almost ending and so I keep pushing it down and I dunno… I don’t really talk about it, not even with Dean, I mean I could… he would listen but, it’s not something I really know how to share.

…..

SAM: Even if you do get the book, and even if you get your power back. It won’t matter. You won’t ever be able to change what happened, you won’t be able to change how helpless you felt, or how helpless you feel. You’re still gonna get scared. That feeling, that feeling never goes away.

ROWENA: Never?

SAM: Never.

…

Honestly it’s perfect. Yokey has decided that enough is enough. We need to discuss this. We need to talk about the fact that our main characters have a shit load of trauma. It’s about GODDAMN TIME.

(x)

I just want to scream about the shots for a second though because god bless Amanda Tapping for being so excellent at capturing emotions. I am starting to think she is one of the best directors for it. The intimate long close ups on the actors faces as they open about this stuff, it just works. The soft music in the back ground pulls no focus away from the gravity of Sam’s words. It’s intense, and harrowing and kudos to Jared here because I think he must have been ITCHING for a moment like this for Sam for YEARS (and for god sake someone ask him about this scene at a con instead of more bloody prank questions PLEASE.)

I also love that it’s Rowena who Sam opens up to about this stuff, because she has that in common with him. I know that it can be argued that Cas has also experienced trauma at the hands of Lucifer, but since Cas is an angel it’s not the same. I doubt Lucifer’s true face would affect Cas, since Cas is already an angel with the ability to see and cope with seeing things that human minds struggle to comprehend.

I think Rowena and Sam is our new Dean and Crowley. They are enemies, but they have a mutual respect for one another and I see this as a really good thing both for Sam and Rowena. Because Crowley was changed thanks to his bond with Dean (love for Dean), he was able to find redemption in that. Rowena could also now find redemption, especially considering her newly powered up status. For Sam I think it was a smart choice to give Rowena the pages at the end. It wasn’t just about the bond they formed over shared trauma, it was Sam knowing that Rowena is right, that Lucifer will always find a way back, and Sam knows that eventually he will have to face him again, and he needs all the help and power he can get, so a powered up Rowena is a powerful ally to have against the creature that tortured and broke both their spirits.

Am I shipping them? No, not really. I still think Rowena is a villain. I never shipped Drowley, though I acknowledge it’s existence in the show as basically a hairsbreadth away from canon. (it’s technically just as close to canon if not more so than Destiel and strongly implied that they hooked up in various episodes). But if the show did go there with Sam and Rowena I wouldn’t mind it as such. I just don’t think it would be endgame. But sure, it could work for a while. I see them more like frenemies with mutual interests. Besides, I’m a Saileen girl all the way and will continue to hope for Eileen’s resurrection this season.

Narrative Mirrors – Witches and Winchesters

Ah narrative mirrors, don’t we love them? I especially love them when they highlight the Winchester family dynamics and just how screwed up they all are. Our witchy sisters fall extremely easily into this category. Jamie and Jenny or “J2” as I now plan to call them (I see what you did there Yokey). So J2 are motivated to do whatever it takes to bring back mum. Whatever it takes even though they are hardly competent witches and only seem to have one spell mastered – the love spell. The older sister uses her charm to encourage the victims to do whatever they wish for, whilst the younger sister is the smarter of the two, more skilled in magic (I wonder who they are supposed to represent?)

They have one purpose, and will stop at nothing until that purpose is fulfilled:

JAMIE: I’m sorry, I know I’m the big sister and I’m supposed to be the strong one or whatever.

JENNY: Yeah?

JAMIE: I just really miss her.

JENNY: I do too.

JAMIE: I know, and I like, really believe in us

JENNY: Jamie, I just want her back so bad

JAMIE: And we’re going to get her back, even if we have to cast every spell in this book and curse the souls of like a million people to make it happen.

Doesn’t this sound rather familiar? Like from 13x09:

DEAN: You were right, about mom you were right, this whole time we should have been looking for her

SAM: I was just hoping, I didn’t know. And anyway it doesn’t matter, now that we do know.

DEAN: We find her, no matter what it takes.

Which always made me kinda uncomfortable. There is a reason that Billy didn’t want Dean knowing their mum was still alive. Because Billy knows that the Winchesters would break the Universe to bring her back. “House of Cards” she called it. What’s the betting that thanks to Sam and Dean this “house of cards” is going to come tumbling down just as Billy predicted? Because I would put money on it.

At the end of the episode, we realise that Sam and Dean are in exactly the same place as J2. Jamie – the older sister, trying to support and reassure her younger sister, the one who “wants mom back so badly”. Jamie, unlike her sister, is totally focused on completing their task, whereas Jenny has her doubts. Just like Sam and Dean. We know that Dean is back to “We’ll figure it out” and “you and me” even though Sam is NOT on board with this, but like Jenny, Sam will follow Dean into a hornets nest if it means doing what they set out to do and save mum.

The girls mum came back wrong though, a zombie. When Mary was first resurrected she certainly wasn’t what the boys expected either, and now she is lost again, whose to say just what state she will be in when she is finally freed? Perhaps the message for the boys here is to actually let her go? As in, let go of the memory of Mary that they had sat on a pedestal (Dean in particular) and start to accept the woman their mother actually is, and let her do her thing, because otherwise it may kill them all.

And isn’t this moment just a perfect visual representation of the toxic co-dependency that is the Winchester brothers? Stab stab stab. One of them even has a hammer… LOL.

(Yup its another one of my crappy gifs.)

The Sassiest Angel in the Garrison

Oh Cas, I have missed your beautiful face…

(x)

(Dipper agrees with me)

Now I think everyone knows by now that I hate Lucifer. As in, I find the character extremely irritating and just want him off our screens dead and buried, and that Mark P can go annoy some other shows audience. The ONLY thing that makes watching Lucifer remotely bearable for me, is Castiel - wonderful, perfect, funny, grumpy, brilliant Castiel, sassing the fuck out of him. Bearing in mind all their scenes but one took place behind bars, I was as always captivated by Cas and the brilliant genius he is.

So far in season 13, Castiel hasn’t actually spent much time using his powers, his grace, to actually get anything done. What he has done, is be incredibly smart and used that tactician brain of his to talk himself out of any situation. Everything Castiel does has a purpose. He is generally a creature of few words (except when it comes to Dean) and therefore, whenever he does speak, it is usually with a great deal of thought. (There was a brilliant meta on the word “assbutt” and how it is the worst insult he could possibly throw at Lucifer and yet everyone still ridicules him for it. Don’t knock the word assbutt. Cas knew exactly what he was doing!)

And so Cas isn’t just being a sassy little bitch in this episode. He’s being a sassy little bitch with purpose. Lucifer may be powered down, but he still has power. Cas knows this. Cas knows that the best way to get Lucifer activating what little power he has is to make him angry. So what does Cas do? He sass’s him, over and over. Pissing him off until eventually, it works.

“Turns out rage is a good motivator”

Such a badass. Bye bye little Dipper.

This is why you should never underestimate Castiel. He will always get the better of you. He will always come out on top in the end.

“This is me, learning from my mistakes” he says whilst stabbing Lucifer at the end of the episode. I thoroughly enjoyed that moment of course, even if we know already it doesn’t stick. Since Lucifer is alive next episode. *sigh*.

Lucifer has been continuously hinting all episode that he want’s Cas’s grace. It seems possible due to pics from next week, that he may actually get what he seeks.

Cas has blood on his collar, which he doesn’t have at the end of 13x12. So is Cas about to become human again? Or at least graceless? It’s possible. @tinkdw​ wrote this post about it (yes I stole her screencap). We were discussing this in our group chat yesterday and thanks to the themes that would come from another human!Cas story I can certainly get behind it, even if I hate the idea that it isn’t his choice yet again. This time, having Lucifer steal his grace seems worse than the first time. But as I mentioned above, Castiel has already shown several times this season that his grace is in no way where his strengths lie. I just hope that it is still his choice in the end to give it up, or not regain it, however that story may pan out.

But yeah maybe prepare ourselves for a human Cas whose grace was stolen by Lucifer plot? I mean if it doesn’t happen great, but if it does... don’t say we didn’t warn ya okay? I know how sensitive we all get about Cas stuff - this is literally the first any of us had thought of this. Besides, he’ll still be amazing even if Lucifer does take his grace, He’ll get in a few more stabs before the end. No doubt.

Other Awesome Stuff

The “fifth base” scene. Yeah this was certainly risqué of Yokey. I was screaming about this to Tink in the chatty bubbles, trust a gay writer to throw in a gay joke aimed at our currently in the closet bisexual lead character and have him act all awkward like he doesn’t know what it is… *glances at Sam* What? Nope, I’ve never… There’s NO SUCH THING AS FIFTH BASE. Sure Jan. Just as I scoff at the idea of Dean not knowing basic French, the idea that Dean DOESN’T know what fifth base is, is absurd. These are purposely input into this episode to raise our eyebrows and DOUBT them.

Baring in mind the way Rowena asks that question “Did THEY get to fifth base?” not “Did YOU get to fifth base” strongly implies actually that Rowena was asking if Dean was pegged. Let’s get that clear. Once again, we have a bottom!dean joke in the subtext of the show. (At some point we need to round up EVERY reference to Dean’s ass and compare it to the other characters just to make this point.)

Oh gosh I haven’t even got to “What’s by is by” yet. The top result in google for this supposed saying is a destiel fanfic written as coda for this episode. There is NOTHING else. It doesn’t exist. What is Yokey playing at exactly? Bygones be bygones maybe? But she had to say it like that? After a reference to anal? To DEAN? Yeah I know everyone is probably already yelling about this on tumblr but still. This is a very huge WTF from me to Yokey that he would ever think we WOULDN’T pick up on this. He did it on purpose. It has a reason, just like everything else. The reason being “Dean is Bi”.

......

(x)

The final scene with Rowena is spectacular. It’s also oddly erotic but maybe that’s just me. Rowena is finally unbound, powerful, free, and probably quite deadly. Here’s hoping she raises a hell of a storm. I have always loved Rowena’s character so for me this idea of her being “unbound” and basically immortal is really interesting. I just hope this paves the way to her helping the Winchesters defeat the big bads to come. Because I see her becoming more of an ally as time goes by. I hope she continues to have a big part to play in the story, and after this final scene I am practically sure she will. 

....

Castiel speaking about Jack like he’s a proud parent gives me life. He truly loves the kid. It’s beautiful.

....

Why does Lucifer attract so many dick jokes nowadays? I’m actually almost getting tired of them. For shits and giggles I’m gonna accept it at face value that Lucifer, unlike Crowley, is not well endowed. It makes sense. The tantrums, the violence. Little man syndrome. Pfft.

I’m also going to take it at face value that Cas is most likely huge. Yeah, that smirk is telling.

We all know he’s a big boy. ;-)

.... 

Hats off to Brenda. The biggest star of the episode. Never failed to make me laugh every time I watched.

You go Brenda. You were awesome.

Overall

Solid episode with lots of great moments. Now all I need is Cas to find the boys and get really pissy with them when he realises they didn’t ONCE figure out that Colonel Sanders was impersonating him. I mean sure, Dean has super low self esteem and was clearly grumpy with Cas at the start of the episode for only really checking in with Sam, not coming home after taking off, clearly CHOOSING the road over being at home with HIM... But that doesn’t excuse him being blind to Asmodeus’s impersonation. Bring on next week. I hope Dean grovels.

[youxidol]

ＭＯＲＮＩＮＧ ＡＦＴＥＲ ＷＩＴＨ ＥＸＯ || Friends version

waking up next to your best friend after a drunk one night stand can’t be good... right?

Minseok:

★when he first wakes to see your sleeping naked form next to him he's sit upright in horror ★after finding the condom wrapper on the floor next to his clothes he'd chill out ★he'd wash, dress then go out to the kitchen ★when you wake to an empty bed, you think the small flashes of memory from last night were just part of your dream ★but after a few minutes, coffee begins to spread it's delightful aroma around your room ★you wrap yourself in your dressing gown and follow the scent to it's source ★and looky here ★a minseok ★upon hearing your footsteps, he turns to offer you a small smile ★'morning' ★'hi' ★'i raided your cupboards to make breakfast' ★you'd laugh at how cute and chill he was ★moving to sit on the counter next to him ★he'd give you a mug of coffee and offer a plate of pancakes ★'so about last night...' you looked over his face ★'from what i remember it was good. and it's nice not waking up to chaos like at the dorm' ★you finished your coffee and set your mug down for him to refill ★'i'm surprised your still here' ★'you're my best friend and you think it'd hit and run?' he'd pout as he sat opposite you ★'isn't that how one night stands work? you hit it and run?' ★oh boy you've set him off laughing ★'i'm more of a hit and make sure the lovely victim has my details. just in case' he'd wink ★you two would spend the morning drinking coffee and talking about everything hes done while off on tour

Junmyeon:

★upset bub p.1 ★you'd left after waking up ★only leaving a note for him ★so many questions would run through his mind ★would you ever want to talk to him ★should he call you? ★send you flowers? ★diddly darn he was stuck ★he ended up calling you ★'hi, i'm sorry if you're upset with me' ★'myeon, i wanted to stay, but i had work' you'd laugh ★'i thought you'd left because you were upset!' ★'not at all, i had fun last night' ★'oh' ★'yeah' ★'i can pick you up after work and take you for lunch' ★'that sounds great' ★WOW WEE ★he would dress up nice and take you to a fancy ass place ★he'd treat you like a goddamn prince/princess

Yixing:

★baby boy would be so god damn fluffy ★like he'd just explode with warmth and love and giggles when he sees you sleeping next to him ★he'll move his hand to your hair and play with the strands lovingly until you wake up ★'good morning, baobei' ★your little sleepy grunt in reply would make him giggle ★he's pet your hair and hold you close until you're fully awake to talk ★'should we wash and then go for breakfast?' ★'can't we stay here longer?' ★'we can do whatever you want' ★cuddles upon cuddles upon cuddles ★and mindless chit chat ★how could cuddles in bed with this precious lamb be bad?

Baekhyun:

★you'd wake up before him ★you kinda just laid there for a bit debating what to do ★do you wake him ★or just leave?? ★you decided to have a shower first ★and if he wasn't awake when you were out, you'd write a note to him and leave ★so off you went ★halfway through washing your hair, the curtain was pulled back ★and this pup was just stood watching you ★you tried your best to cover yourself ★he just laughed and shook his head ★'you weren't doing that last night. in fact, you couldn't get your clothes off any quicker' ★'shut up baek' ★he'd just tease your mercilessly ★you turned the shower head to wet him ★which shut him up ★he kinda just stared ★which made you think he was mad ★but he suddenly just pushed into the shower with you ★'that wasn't nice' he'd pout, pushing you back against the wall ★'neither was leaving me bed on my own' ★'not my fault you wouldn't wake up' ★'i worked hard last night i deserve a lay in' ★it would just be none stop giggles, kisses and cuddles for the day

Jongdae:

★upset bub p.2 ★he'd watch you sleep for a few minutes before dressing and going to eat ★he felt bad that your first time together was when you were both out of your mind ★as he was drinking his milk, he'd hear your foot steps ★he went full !!!!!! mode ★when you came into the room, he'd do his best to hide ★and by hide i mean he's stood behind the curtains ★'i see you dae,' ★'dae? who's dae? i know no dae' ★it would make you laugh ★which then caused him to grin ★'you're not mad at me?' ★'what's done is done' ★'i'm mad at me for not remembering. maybe we should have a repeat' he'd wink ★'shut up' ★'yes captain'

Chanyeol:

★this poor guy ★he had it all planned out on what to do when the two of you woke up ★he'll run you a bath, let you raid his wardrobe so you're comfy then make you breakfast ★he'd straight up just have a stroke when he doesn't hear you snoring ★are you deaD???////???? ★HOLY SHIT HE'D KILLED YOU?! ★it was supposed to be romantic and now he'd killed you ★shit ★oh no ★nevermind ★bless, his face would all be screwed up as he let his thoughts went mad ★you're now staring at him with a confused look on your face ★'what are you thinking about?' you'd ask with a laugh ★'how to bury your body' ★'oh' ★'nO SHIT I MEANT WHAT I'M GOING TO COOK YOU FOR BREAKFAST' ★his little cheeks would be bright red ★his plans were blown ★'breakfast sounds really good, actually' ★his famous grin would sprout on his face before he leans in and kisses your head ★'eggs and bacon coming your way' ★he'd jump out of the bed in such a rush to cook ★that he ended up tripping ★and now he's just curled up naked on your floor ★real good going, chanyeol ★'just come back to bed for a while. i'll cook when i get up' ★he'll dive right back in and nuzzle his face into your neck ★'it was supposed to go better' ★'i know, chan'

Kyungsoo:

★soft ★v gentle ★11/10 would recommend ★but for real ★the most important thing is that you're happy and that you're comfortable ★you two could talk about what happened last night later on ★a shower and breakfast is more important ★so he kinda just shoves you to the bathroom to wash ★while he goes and works his magic in the kitchen ★probably cooks enough to feed the entire city because he's nervous ★and actually doesn't even know what your favourite breakfast food is ★when you enter the kitchen you just see all this food ★which you thank him for ★the two of you will eat ★then after your both full, the talk will come ★'how much of it do you remember?' ★'i remember seeing your stomach after all the teasing you did' ★'yeah?' ★'you buff up good' ★to which he'll laugh  ★you'll probably just turn the whole situation into a joke ★which always makes the others confused

Jongin:

★let's be honest here ★this bub ain't waking up ★so you'll just grab your stuff and leave ★when he does wake up he'll probably see your watch you left on the nightstand ★panicccccccccccc ★he'll rush to your place to talk to you ★'you should've woken me up' ★'i could've walked you home' ★'did you leave because you were embarrassed?' ★so many questions ★he'd be so worried that it ruined your relationship ★you'd calm him down by patting his shoulder ★if you wanted to talk about it, you two would ★but if you wanted to put it behind you, you two would also do that

Sehun:

★would wake before you ★and just stare ★he's in awe ★but he's also really pissed off ★in awe because wow he just had really good sex with the person he holds most dear to his heart ★but WHAT THE FUCK HE BARELY REMEMBERS ANYTHING ★DID YOU ENJOY IT? ★DID YOU MOAN HIS NAME? ★DID HE MOAN YOUR NAME ★WHO WAS IN CHARGE???? ★DID HE CUM BEFORE OR AFTER YOU?! ★his thoughts were cut off by you groaning and stretching out ★you turned your head to see him and offered a sleepy smile before sitting up ★when you reached for your clothes, he'll pull you back down ★and wrap his long limbs around you ★'stay for a bit' ★'we can go out for breakfast' ★it'll be so nice???? ★probs leads to you two blooming into the hottest couple around ★bc how could he not wake up to you every morning?????

[thinkingaboutsanfrancisco]

Friday April 17th, 2015

If someone would've told me two hours ago that I'd be in the city tonight, much less standing in this fucking park again, I think I would've burned them with my cigarette. 

Now that I've been revived by the kinetic energy of lucrative prospects and perhaps a runner's high from racing through the Embarcadero, I can reflect with amusement on my situation's irony instead of wallowing in the curse of it. Obviously I'm here, it's Friday night. Where the fuck else would I be? Making ends meet with my measly retail job where I walk away with $40 at the end of the night? Please. The earnings I can accumulate for one night of transactions wipe out what I gross in a bi-weekly paycheck in that store, it'd be laughable to acquire that lousy shift...especially when I've picked up four there this week already. Shouldn't I be resting instead since I'm so fucking tired? Fuck that. Since being on the other side of the door, I've been blessed with the clarity to realize that genuine sound rest for anyone in our apartment on a Friday night is ultimately futile, and fuck was I finding myself miserable for trying. While my body might've been wasting away on a bed or a couch, there's no way I would constitute the only other thing I've done this week as "rest". Not with the perpetual nausea in my stomach that kept churning from my mind's rotten, embarrassing, reruns that recommenced to torture me without mercy despite how I thought that I'd charred their disgusting instigator to oblivion the last time I was here. It should've been over because it was over to me and it didn't go catastrophically as I'd feared, yet that awful remnant lingered within me like a bitter taste in my mouth and nothing I could conjure up to distract myself was able to fully abolish the feeling. She may be naive that I ruined our friendship but it doesn’t matter, because I ruined our friendship and the only thing that could ever heal my festering regret is time and all I'm left to do is live with my stupid fucking self while I wait it out, which I know I can do. I've carried the burden of  far worse guilt before. I'll live.

Five days of on running the worst fucking sleep I've had in two years, however, and whatever remained of my already fraying wit's end was deteriorating to its' last fragile fibers. I didn't want to do a single. goddamn. thing. Taking a couple of steps in our kitchen to open up the freezer, ripping open the bothersome box and pesky packaging, and putting a pepperoni Hot Pocket in the microwave so I could force myself to eat was as laborious as I wanted to get tonight and, while I slumped on the counter with my hand in my palm and waited for that unnecessary ding to inform me of what I was already anticipating, my exhausted frustration provoked me to make a spiel of decisions to ensure that: fuck studying, fuck avoiding texting Ray back, fuck waiting up for my dad, and, most unusual of them all, fuck Natalia. Most of the time I value her consistency, but I dreaded her then-impending text from the second I got back in from school because I was not in the mood to accommodate her pain in the ass schedule tonight, $300 be damned. She always wants an 8-ball before her shift and another when she gets off at one and there was no way in hell I could foresee myself having any ability to hang around Downtown for four fucking hours tonight. It was going to conflict with my Trazadone swiping plans, the enticement of which began to surge when I opened my burner and realized that I was going to have to deny my best customer. I hadn't received her usual request yet, but it was rapidly approaching nine and I was hoping that by intercepting her and initiating word of my very important schedule conflict, she'd be less pissed at my inability to show and not discredit and discard me like she did her other blow-off dealer. Yeah, the money always matters, but the price of my reputation is far more invaluable. 

The weight of that knowledge slowed my usual punctual thumbs as I evaluated the brief sentences and consolation with more acuity than I typically reserve for my English essays. If there's one principal lesson I've learned in the last week, it's not to text the first thing that's on my mind...especially when it wasn't in the right place to begin with. 

And thank the fucking Lord for that.

Because right when I was in the middle of selfishly setting us up for losing $300, fate buzzed me into my fucking senses and about gave me a heart attack in the process when I registered who the fuck was calling me.

S.

I don't think I've ever picked up the phone and put it up to my ear as rapidly as I did then and it wasn't because I was eager to talk to him. Fuck, if I would've been presented with the question via text that he wound up asking me, maintaining my assurance would've been the easiest thing I've ever done and there's no fucking way I would be standing here but he called me and he never has fucking called me. There's never been a reason for him to and I've never wanted him to because surely it was going to be serious and my mind raced through a white flash of fragmented worst-case scenarios. What the fuck did I fucking do? I stammered out the first word of that question twice before I realized that I was revealing the pure panic in my voice and I had to put a fucking end to it. He demands to know if I'm busy, which I wasn't anymore since everything suddenly got rendered irrelevant by his boisterous, jovial volume that thawed the ice of my fear into cautious curiosity as I started to perceive that this call was more irrelevant to the state of my existence than I thought... 

“I wanna go fucking clubbing, J. You wanna go clubbing?! Let’s go clubbing! I ONLY WANT TO GO IF YOU COME WITH.”

Or could've ever considered because what the fuck? No?!  Why the fuck would I go clubbing with him?! I don't fucking "club"! What in the everloving fuck possessed him to think that I do? Especially since he already convinced himself that I'm a teenage virgin who's never experienced delights or tragedies of love without me implicating anything explicit to give that impression away or indulge him in it being correct. Now five days later he’s deemed me suitable enough for his clubbing roster? Ridiculous.

So I started to express my disinterest...until he said something that made every part of my broken mind click back into the proper, functioning, place...  

“Come on, J…there’s money in it for you.”

Remembering how stunned I was upon hearing it sends me into a chuckle because it's so crystal clear to me now, but upon hearing it I had to work myself through the entire thought process as if I'd returned to Kindergarten and was introduced to the concept of the sum of one plus two equates to three.  Of course, that's why S he asked me to go with him. Night clubs and the loosened inhibitions of their clientele are rampant for an opportunity. Granted, it's one I've never considered to take up on because the loose lips of those fiending in the alleyways outside of them after hours were enough to sustain my immediate needs and, frankly, is more apt for my style. No matter what you're trying to sell, whether it be the commerce of cocaine or cars, your chances of successfully convincing a customer of purchasing it increase substantially when you locate one aspect of them to relate to and use it as a driving force. Developing a niche is the proper term for it and my niche is desperation. I'm always desperate. I'm desperate for cash, I'm desperate for success, I'm desperate for a future, I'm desperate for freedom, I'm desperate for safety, I'm desperate for love...fuck, I'm desperate for about everything besides for actual fucking cocaine. I understand what it's like to feel hopeless on these San Francisco streets, searching for that special someone who can swoop in and deliver that sweet salvation and can satisfy what their heart craves and I'm thrilled when, instead of another suffering martyr, I can be a savior. 

Like S was for me.

If it weren't for when he agreed to supply for me back in February, that might've been the most important sentence he's ever spoken to me because it's exactly the reminder I needed to hear. My entire move wasn't about making friends or an honest attempt at living or doing as perfectly as I can in school to keep up a GPA that isn't at all an accurate representation of my deteriorating intellect, it was about developing my own contacts and bringing in my own contributions—as legal or "unconventional" as they may be—for our survival and if I was that fucked up by some privileged British girl who would drop me so fucking quick if she found out how abhorrent my real reasons for being in this city are, then Lance Kelley should keep himself awake all night worrying about me because there is no way in hell I can afford to be that weak out here. 

And I'm not going to be. 

Certainly not when there's this thudding bass alerting me of that familiar black Altima's arrival. I never thought I'd be so relieved to see that car, but it's not so bad now that I don't have to display all of my personal belongings onto its roof. Now that I think of it, S hasn't entertained me with his little game in a while...

Taking a long drag of my Parliament because I'm sensing it's going to be the last one I'll be able to do silently for a while, I watch as S puts the car in park and proves me right when he jumps out and greets me with a name I haven't heard in a while.

“JAMES DEAN! How’s it going?!”

While I roll my eyes at it because I still don't get what he sees in that comparison, it's so stupidly cheerful that I can't resist a chuckle.

Damn, he's really happy to see me isn't he?

My rhetorical question resolves itself when I see color and animation thriving in his face as he exclaims how great I look and...surprisingly, he's not bullshitting me. I was fully prepared for S to call me out on being such a teenager that I had to rummage through my dad's closet and steal one of his button-up dress shirts, after all it is the honest-to-God truth since I didn't own one this nice looking myself, yet he refrained and I'm able to settle into a satisfied grin, "Well I’ve found that nice opportunities are more likely to present themselves to the presentable so... thanks. Glad to see you’re looking better too."

Seriously, he's in a refreshing return to form and it's obvious that the source of his rejuvenation has to be something far greater than merely my outfit. Pregaming, probably, but I don't care because he’s a far cry from the shattered soul I physically left sitting on that bench on Sunday night, yet who kept finding a way to agonize me mentally on the train ride back to Bayview. I wished I could’ve left him under a more imminently optimistic note but rushing his grieving process would’ve only delayed things for him in the long run and I’d truly delivered as much as I could for one night. Again, adequate time’s the only thing that could heal those wounds and watching him believe my compliment in this park only less than a week later is rewarding. The healing process can be a bitch and I’m happy it’s already starting to work out for him. 

I can't wait for it to start working out for me too.

Tired of standing in this same spot, I take a few steps forward to the passenger's side of his car and lean against the door, tucking one of my arms underneath the one staunchly propping up my Parliament. 

"Alright, so where is it? I’m not going anywhere until I see exactly what’s in store for me tonight.” 

[boku-no-family]

HI!! Your blog is amazing!! Bless you!! I'm gonna put a little sin on your blog haha. Can I request a morning sex scenario for Bakugou with his s/o? (I prefer it if s/o would ride him ;)) I just find it really romantic im so sorry im strange-

Sweetheart, you are not strange at all 💫 I love this ask, give me sin, I’mthirsty 😉 I hope that’s what you wanted to read!

Thank you foryour appreciation and bless your soul 💕

I made this areader insert, I hope it’s fine 🌌

Further, I’m so sorryit took so long 🙈 my surface died around seven times due to the humid-heat😐 I actually thought I could never finish this…

[Bakugou x reader] [Word Count: 1.095] [NSFW]

The firstshadows of dawn are hovering through the still barren streets, dipping the cityinto an ocean of halcyon gold. Faint sunlight prickles through the curtains ofyour bedroom, casting beams of dim light on your boyfriends soften features.Even Bakugou looks peaceful while he sleeps.

Your legs aresore from the events of last night and the air still heavy with sex when youturn around, supporting your weight on your slightly quivering arms. You can’thelp but admire the sight in front of you. Completely disheveled, wearingnothing but pure skin, Bakugou is sprawled over the messy sheets. Foggy lightis dancing over his toned back and your fingers twitch in the need to join thefiery waltz.

Inching evencloser, you give in your burning desire, carding your slender fingers throughhis spiky hair, traveling downwards till you reach the nape of his neck. A lowbaritone growl reverberates in your partner’s chest and the body in front ofyou rattles slightly.

You know you aredancing at the edge of an abyss, playing with fire, but the vibrant sensationunderneath the tips of your devious fingers is too tempting to stop. Lickingyour lips in excitement you let your hand travel further, evanescent touchesdrawing invisible patterns.

Like a hallucination, the previous nightflashes in your mind and your lips curl into a Cheshire grin, while youremember how you got all those indigo bruises, outlining your hips like apicture frame. Shivering, you feel a familiar coil pooling between your legsand suddenly your thoughts are driven by the suicidal wish to wake the sleepingbeast.

Staggered, you notice a pair of crimson eyesscanning over your messed up figure. Locking his unwavering gaze with yours,your heart pounds heavily against your ribcage. For a brief moment fear isclawing at you with icy fangs, but surprised you find only amusement twinklingin his features.

“You never get enough, do you?”, his voice israspy and still heavy with sleep when he takes a quick glance at the clock“It’s only been three fucking hours, not even I’m that energetic”.

Your pupils widen in excitement, it seems likeyou have caught him in a good mood and you won’t let this rare opportunity go to waste. Not with the burning hunger licking between your thighs.

Lowering your head, your hungry mouth replacesyour hand and you work your way up with a mix of tender kisses and teethscraping over his scarred back, until you reach the bite marks on his shoulder.Circling your work from last night with your dexterous tongue and sucking onthe still sore patches he lets out an entertained sigh.

“I’m always thirsty for you, babe”, you mumblebetween your sucks. Goddamn it, he can’tresist you even if he is tired. Swooping an arm around your waist andgreeting the morning with the first curses of the day, he turns around and tugsyou closer. “You’re a brave little vixen, waking me the fuck up, after I justfucked you into submission”, he says, a devilish smirk curling his lips.  

You answer with a fluid movement, placing yourbody on top of his and you are glad that the only piece of clothing adorningyou is one of his shirts. “Shit, babe, what the hell are you doing with me?”,he huffs, but his hardened member yanking against your entrance tells you thathe is just as riled up as you are. You lean down to the shell of his ear, thefriction of your bodies causing goosebumps on your burning skin. “I’ll make itup to you”, you whisper, nibbling on his ear.

“So much depravity in the morning”, he hums,and you feel his nimble fingers cascading underneath the hem of your shirt, findingtheir place right at the top of your hips. His breath fans hot over your jaw,his teeth clamping over the side of your delicate neck.

You let out a moan, pressing your body againsthis, grinding slowly on his cock. Bakugou’s grip tightens, his fingers diggingtheir claim into your soft skin. “Fuck you, you tricky ass, take care of that”,he growls and by looking into his eyes, you know none of these words are actuallymeant malevolently. Even if you see that his mind is still hazy from sleep,lust is flaring behind his crimson orbs.

Snickering about his impatience, you take himin smoothly, molding your bodies together and a pleasant shiver runs down yourspine. He was not lying when he said that he fucked you into submission lastnight, you are definitely more sore than you thought. Feeling his cock twitchinginside of you, you set up a slow pace.

Every friction causing a delightful mix of pleasureand pain, you cannot help, but moan louder with every thrust. Of course your unusualchords don’t pass unnoticed and your boyfriend flashes you a devilish smirk. “Amasochistic one, aren’t we?”, he laughs, pistoning up his hips to support you. “Ohshut it”, you murmur, leaning over, your mouth once again catching the junctionof his shoulder, adding new trails to the spreading sea of purplish blue.

Iridescent golden beams are fanning over yourbodies, for a while the room is filled with the sluggish sound of your stickybodies slapping together. Dazed from your previous highs and the missing sleep,you both might have been a little too ambitious in the morning.

A scorching trail following every leisure twistof your slapping hips, you feel the blossoming coil slowly unravel and you knowyou are not able to stand this much longer. “Katsuki”, you moan breathy intohis ear. “Shit. I know, me too”, he pants, increasing the speed slightly.

Your fingers digging desperately into the mattresswhile he pummels into you even harder. His name falls high pitched from yourlips and you feel the coil tearing apart, sending tiny little electric sparks throughyour body. It takes only a few more thrusts till Bakugou follows you, cursing underneathhis breath. Still high, you ride out your orgasm patiently, feeling him faintlyjerking underneath you.

You were definitely a little bit too eager, butyou regret nothing. Leaning onto your trembling arms, you lift yourself up andslide beside Bakugou. Still catching his breath, he turns to his side, wrappingan arm around you. “Let’s sleep a little longer”, he huffs contentedly “And don’tyou dare to wake me up again”, he smiles, nuzzling his face into your chest.