#I started this forever ago and I’m finally just chucking it at the world

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 327

Back and to the Future/Nikola Tesla’s Night if Terror

Did I mention there’s a mistake in my “final” calendar? I put the episode of dw I watched the other day on there twice 😎👍 luckily what that really means is I can skip watching one some time this weekend

“Back and to the Future”

Plot Description: Sam, Dean, and Castiel reluctantly team up with a demon inhabiting Jack’s body to battle an army of undead souls that includes some infamous killers

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: (not even started it yet and certainly not, right?) guess who was riiiiight

Cas making sure to bring Jack’s body with them to safety (even temporary safety) 😭😭😭

Vs Cas also pointing out that he wouldn’t starve to death if they stayed in this place forever

Dean’s so mad at Chuck and in such a funny way

So….not running water, just more zombies

Oh this is actually kind of fun, like when Misha gets to play evil versions of Cas

I’m not trusting that this demon was your basic pencil pusher. He just stopped the (not-)zombie horde that god himself put in our trio’s way

Yeah, MAYBE these girls are a little spoiled but that doesn’t mean this ghost has to go after them

We’re starting to see the aftermath of various ghosts who stayed true to form

This murder clown is decidedly not sexy (to me. Could be someone else’s yum, and I won’t yuck it)

How long ago was this demon last on earth??

Oh a big bag of salt and a human heart?? Is THAT all you need??

Of COURSE Sam had to go to the clown house, poor guy

I love that Rowena made Dean say please and use the descriptor “exquisite” when he first told her they needed her to move her ass

Omg we cannot be getting Michael back again (but this universe’s Michael who got———hey, what about Adam? I know we’re NEVER revisiting that plot thread but like…that’s so stupid)

And if COURSE the gunshot wound Sam has isn’t able to be healed by Cas AND he’ll hide it…

Hey, free, fresh human heart, I guess

Lizzie Borden’s here too??

Castiel sassing Sam shooting him with rock salt when he can’t help when a ghost decides it’s gonna vanish

Worst ghosts in a show ever. Why do they HAVE to run? The ghosts are running

Oh man. The bad tension between Cas and Dean continues

Thank you, Sam, from saving Dean even temporarily from a nihilistic spiral

This is unintentionally the funniest fucking show in the world. “If we win—when we win this, god’s gone” I love this stupid show so much, I can’t believe I’m in the last season

“Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror”

Plot Description: 1903. Who or what is sabotaging Nikola Tesla’s generator plant at Niagra Falls? And has this maverick inventor really received a message from Mars?

Ruh roh I’m not gonna make it before midnight. Can we blame Megumi?? And how cute she was being tonight?

Hey, did this one come out before or after Elon became obsessed with going to Mars? Because the Tesla-Mars connection seems too on the nose

Ok I can see why he believes he’s getting messages from space

Companions should get in period dress more often

These two ACTUAL geniuses in a room together and supporting each other and comforting each other, realizing they have so much in common

This dude in the cape is bad news. Wtf is happening with him??

Ok, since we’re in NYC…I’m just thinking, what if we could DO something that would have prevented what happened to Amy and Rory.

They do this to angels in spn to interrogate them, too…but these are no angels, that’s for sure. The makeup they used almost reminds me of the spider queen from the runaway bride

Voice too, actually

Graham telling off Thomas Edison is delightful

Oh but instead of spiders, it’s scorpions, and they can shoot lasers from their tails!

And what a crazy thing that they also steal tech from other places

Edison should not be allowed to be this close to the plan

Aw, she just wants a high five and he doesn’t know what that is because it hasn’t been invented yet?

The return of the goggles!! Yay!

It’s effective for getting people off the street and away from the scorpion aliens, but it also feels slanderous for Edison to be saying that shit about Tesla

Excuse me? The Doctor is typically about stopping but not killing…but kind of in the way Aang is, but…she seems pretty dead set on killing the queen. I’m not even sure how they managed to save earth this time

[ghostinacardboardbox-oldblog]

New fic time

Uncertain Times

Fandom: Wolf 359

Chapters: 1/2

Tags: Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell, Daniel Jacobi & Warren Kepler, Hera & Daniel Jacobi, Doug Eiffel & Daniel Jacobi, Daniel Jacobi, Alana Maxwell, Warren Kepler, Hera (Wolf 359), Doug Eiffel, You could read this Jacobi/Eiffel but also as platonic, Broken Bones, Injury, possibly medical inaccuracies but especially in the second part, Bruises, Burns, Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell Are Best Friends, its subtle though, Daniel Jacobi-centric, Pre-Canon, For the first part, Post-Canon, for the second part, lovelace and Minkowski are mentioned but don’t really make an appearance, actually Maxwell doesn’t actually show up either but I think she was reference enough to tag her, Amnesiac Doug Eiffel, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, for parts one and two respectively, i wrote the majority of this almost a year ago and just now decided to finish it so enjoy, no beta we die like the plant monster

There were many things that Daniel Jacobi was uncertain of.

One time that Jacobi was alone, and one time that he was not.

[shyvioletcat]

All I Want

Thanks to the anon who sent this in. Based on the song All I Want by Kodaline. I hope you like it. It's a bit rough around the edges though but I hope it still passes the test. 

~~~~~

Rowan had been playing a dangerous game. His friendship with Aelin Galathynius had been a happy accident, one that hadn’t started out easily but eventually had transformed his life. Aelin was all fire and spirit and Rowan was a fool to fight what he felt for so long. She was now his best friend, the person that he went to with every good and bad thing life threw at him. His best friend who had lit up his life had received an opportunity of a lifetime and was now following her dreams and moving halfway across the world. His best friend that he had fallen in love with.

Rowan had gone and lost the game.

This wasn’t just a crush, not some fleeting infatuation that he would be able to talk himself out of. This was a love Rowan felt deep in his soul and it shook him to his very core. How could it not? Aelin had changed him, he’d been a sorry bastard before he met her. Life had dealt him a poor hand and instead of rising above it he had let it drag him down into a pit so dark he no longer saw the point in fighting. Then Aelin appeared, such a bright light and she had reached for him even when he pushed her away again and again. She had helped him out of the dark and he had fallen in love with her for it.

He watched her now, as she flitted around his room, packing the last of her things. A few months ago after an ugly breakup Aelin had arrived knocking on his door late one night asking for a place to stay. Unable to deny her Rowan had instantly let her in, much to the dismay of his roommate. But Lorcan wasn’t a hard enough man to kick her out, so for months she had lived with him here in this little room, sleeping in his bed and stealing his clothes. They had been some of the happiest months of his life.

“I’m taking this, by the way,” Aelin held up a green t-shirt of his, proving his point. “I’ve decided I need it.”

Rowan rolled his eyes at her from where he sat on the bed, but it had no bite. She could take anything she wanted. All he wanted was for her to take him, his body, his soul, the life he had left to live. He wanted to share every moment with her forever. Who was he kidding… Aelin already owned every part of him and she didn’t even know it.

She stuffed that item of clothing into her suitcase and zipped it up, putting her hands on her hips to survey her handiwork. As Rowan looked at her the words were on the tip of his tongue. So easily he could tell her how he felt, and maybe by some chance Aelin might feel the same. But then what would happen? She was leaving in a matter of hours, would he expect her to stay? Would she want to? This adventure she was setting out on was an adventure of a lifetime. Working as an editor to an author she admired, Rowan was not about to ruin that for her. He wouldn’t be that cruel—instead he would accept his own cruel fate.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Aelin said, checking her phone. “Aedion is here. Chuck anything else you find in a box and my Dad will pick it up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rowan replied, not saying that he hated to see her go.

Aelin smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to see me go.”

Rowan shook his head, “Never, Aelin.”

“Liar,” she accused and then she launched herself at him, arms thrown around his neck.

Rowan held her close—not wanting to let her go. He had to, he had to for her own happiness.

“Goodbye, Rowan,” Aelin said, her voice muffled from being pressed into his shoulder. He died a little on the inside at the gentle farewell.  

“Goodbye, Aelin.” There was a heartbreaking finality to his words.

Aelin pulled back and in a matter of minutes she was gone, having given him a final wave from the doorway. All Rowan had done was sit back down on his bed and dwell in the silence of his room. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, misery weighing heavily on him. Day turned into night and his thoughts turned just as dark. Aelin would have called him dramatic. But she had brought out the best of him, a part he had never seen before. Rowan hoped for everyone’s sake he wouldn’t lose it now Aelin was gone.

All he wanted was nothing more than to hear her knocking at his door like she had once before.

“What are you doing?”

Rowan’s head snapped up to see Lorcan standing in his doorway. “Piss off.”

“Piss off yourself,” Lorcan replied. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”

“What?”

“You're just going to destroy yourself again, when the answer is simple. Go and get her,” Lorcan said.

What Lorcan had said caught Rowan entirely off guard. Lorcan was not Aelin’s biggest fan, he didn’t even like the woman. And for him to encourage Rowan to chase after her…

“I’ll not watch that again. Regardless of my own feelings, she’s the one for you. Don’t let her leave without telling her how you feel,” Lorcan explained even though admitting it looked like it caused him some amount of pain.

Rowan felt his stomach sink, this was just yet another example of his stupidity. “You’re right. Gods, you’re right.”

Rowan snatched up his wallet and keys, his phone already in his pocket. Each second of drive to the airport was torture and he prayed to every god that was listening that her plane hadn’t left. It all passed in a blur but soon enough he was parking his car, fumbling with his keys to lock it, and then he was running.

The way he ran through the airport was made for a film screen. He was flying as fast as his feet would carry him, trying his hardest not to ram into the people around him. A few times his shoulder knocked with another’s and Rowan apologised before he moved on. Security slowed him down the most but he used that time to check the screens around him for Aelin’s gate. 2A, she would be boarding her plane at gate 2A.

With his few belongings handed back to him, Rowan was running again. He had to reach her, this was his chance. His only chance. Holding true to the film like saga Rowan found himself in, Aelin’s flight was called for final boarding. The signage for the right gate lit up in front of him and Rowan ran, hoping Aelin had waited until the end to board like she usually did.

Then he saw her, fiddling with her earphones and nearly at the front of the line. Aelin looked around, a small smile on her face. That smile faltered a little as she saw him, and then it spread wider. She stepped out of line, coming towards him with her carry-on luggage rolling behind her. Rowan was out of breath and panting when he stopped before her.

“Did I forget something?” She asked and Rowan just shook his head. “Then what—”

“I love you, Aelin,” Rowan said. “I love you, with all that I am.”

There was a horrifying moment of silence where she just gaped at him.

“Rowan, I—” this time she shook her head.

“I should have told you earlier, I was an idiot not to,” Rowan’s voice was getting stronger with every word. “I’ve loved you longer than I should have and I couldn't let you go without saying something.”

“You are an idiot,” Aelin said. “I… you waited until now?”

“I’m sorry,” Rowan breathed as the full weight of what he was doing crashed down on him. “I should have told you earlier.”

“You think?” Aelin’s tone carried a hint of bitterness. “Now?”

“Please, Aelin—“

“I have to go,” Aelin cut him off. Rowan saw the tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I have to go.”

She turned and Rowan felt his heart fracture, getting deeper with every step she took away from him. And then she stopped, and Rowan’s heart stuttered into a frantic beat as he waited for her to turn around a look at him, just one last time just so he could get some hint of what she felt.

She didn’t though, Aelin just shook her head again and kept walking. Rowan could only watch as she handed over her boarding pass and walked out of his life. She had been gone from his sight for a few minutes before he could rouse himself to move. All the adrenaline left his body and the walk back to his car was slow. Aelin was gone, Rowan had lost the gamble he’d taken and felt like he might pay for it for the rest of his life.

~~~~~

It had been weeks since Aelin had left and Rowan hadn’t heard from her. In the first few days he’d sent her some texts and received no reply. He had to check in with Aedion to see that she had arrived in Antica safely. She had, but evidently she just didn’t want to speak to him. Rowan was now only existing on instinct. He went to work when he had to, ate when needed to, but once again the motivational spark from his life was gone. At night he would lie in the now too empty bed and cry. By morning those tears would dry by morning and he would do it all again. He was functioning, if only just barely.

Tonight his bed was once again the place of choice to wallow in his misery. Rowan’s stomach was aching a little telling him that it was time to find something for dinner. Lorcan had been kind enough to feed him if was home, but tonight his roommate had taken his girlfriend out on a date. Thinking about that had led Rowan to a thought he was working hard to banish, but the truth of it kept it stuck. It was like a splinter he couldn’t remove as it dug into his skin and stung.

If he could only see her face one more time Rowan might be all right. Maybe it would be enough for him so he could let her go completely and do what he needed to do. All he needed to do was find somebody like Aelin and more on.

Rowan was kidding himself, he never would. No one would ever take her place—no one would ever compare to who Aelin was.

The apartment was so silent that he easily heard the knocking on the door. Rowan left it for a bit not caring enough to get up, but then it started again and more urgently. There was a chance whoever was at the door wouldn’t go away until they got an answer so Rowan pushed himself off the bed and left the dark solitude of his room.

As predicted the knocking did not stop, Rowan murmuring, “I’m coming, I’m coming,” as he walked through the apartment.

Whoever was banging on the door was going to get an earful as the wooden slab practically shook on the hinges. Rowan grabbed the door handle and swung the door open, ready to lay ino the unfortunate person on the other side.

“What do you—” Rowan stumbled back when he saw who was waiting for him. “Aelin?”

She was a few steps away, breathing hard as she glared up at him. Aelin looked angry and Rowan suspected that he would be the one to get told off before she surprised him by storming over to him and pulling him down by the collar—kissing him hard on the mouth.

“I love you, too,” she said, pulling away just enough so she could get the words out. “I love you too, you absolute idiot.”

Rowan was stunned, then he was leaning down to kiss her again and she willingly let him.

“What are you doing here?” Rowan breathed, not quite believing she was here.

“I’m here for you,” Aelin told him.

Rowan stood straighter so he could look at Aelin and read her face. “You never said a word, I texted you and… but you’re here?”

“Well, having you confess your love for me moments before I had to get on a flight was a lot to take in and I needed a little time to think,” Aelin explained. “And I was terrified. I’ve loved you for a long time, Rowan. I was scared that if I said anything it would ruin what we had and then you confessed first and I just panicked. Because I still didn’t want to ruin our friendship if we jumped into this too quickly. And chasing after me at the very last second was a bit of a dick move.”

Rowan let out a nervous laugh. “It was, wasn’t it. To shift the blame, Lorcan told me to do it.”

Aelin tipped her head back and her laugh was full and the sound revived something in Rowan’s soul. “Of course he did.”

“What about your job?” Rowan asked, still holding Aelin close like bringing up the thing that had taken her from him in the first place might whisk her away again.

Aelin’s hands twined together behind his neck. “Turns out my most favourite author is a bit of a bastard to work with so took advantage of the grace period in my contract and left.”

“To come back?” Rowan said, hope swelling in his chest.

Aelin nodded. “To come back home, to you.”

Rowan couldn’t help it, he swept Aelin into another. As his world righted itself, clarity hit him. This woman in his arms, she was all he would ever want. And he would work his hardest to never lose her again.

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @1islessthan3books // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @firestarsandseneschals // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems // @larisssss // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starbornvalkyrie // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @rowaelinismyotp // @pullnpeeltwizzlers // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction // @gracie-rosee // @elriel4life // @rowaelinrambling // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis // @swankii-art-teacher // @grandma-noob-lord // @vanzetanze // @highlady-brittney // @story-scribbler // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @silentquartz // @live-the-fangirl-life // @whimsicallyreading // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @charlizeed // @feysand-loml // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr // @thegreyj // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream // @magnifique1807

[malfoysstilinski]

Can you a Draco Smut where he gets bored and literally just decides to make out with and suck your clit slowly like lazily and teases you into an orgasm?

bored | draco malfoy smut 18+

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco’s bored so he decides to eat you out

warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), degradation?, really cute boyfriend!draco

word count: 2.1k

For some reason, lessons today felt like they had dragged on for far too long. Snape’s monotone voice had only drowned you deeper into a pit of boredom from where you sat at the back of his DADA lesson during the last period of the day, hoping that time would just speed up so you could spend your Friday evening with your boyfriend.

And finally the time came where Snape eventually dismissed the class, but not without a pile of homework and a stern message about the N.E.W.T exams quickly approaching. You didn’t even want to think about any of that right now; N.E.W.T level DADA would be the death of you, you were sure of that much.

“Come on pretty girl,” Draco whispered, his arm tucking around your shoulders, your head leaning on his shoulder slightly as you left the classroom. “You can nap in my room, or read - whatever you want.”

You smiled at that - you loved Draco’s room. He was a prefect, not to mention a Malfoy, so he got special privileges; one of them being a room all to himself. His double bed was far comfier than the single you had in your dormitory, which was where you found yourself five minutes later.

Your robe had been ditched; chucked somewhere onto the floor before Draco could even enter the room. You collapsed onto his bed, lying horizontally across the bottom half and staring up at the ceiling as you heard a huff come from Draco. You craned your head in time to see him swipe your uniform off the floor.

Draco didn’t even bother to scold you anymore - no matter how many times he said it, you always forgot his ‘nothing but feet on the floor’ policy. It sort of surprised you when you found out how tidy he was — much more organised than you, who couldn’t even be bothered to take your shoes off.

You wiggled your legs which were dangling off the end of the mattress and Draco rolled his eyes, finishing folding your robe and placing it on the back of his desk chair before moving over to your feet. His hand grabbed the back of your heel and he began to undo the laces of your school shoes, staring at you in amusement.

“You have me running around like a House-Elf for you,” he huffed.

You grinned up at him, lifting your head so you could see him properly. “I know,” you chirped.

Draco finally got both your shoes off, your toes wiggling in your tights as they thanked you for finally releasing them from their tight confidements. You watched your blond boyfriend move around the room to place your shoes neatly by the door before he peeled his robes and shoes off too, putting them away also tidily.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, darling,” Draco muttered, shooting you a look as he climbed onto his bed, his back against the headboard as he grabbed his book off of the bedside table. “You gonna sleep?”

“No, just lay here,” you murmured back, your fingers fiddling with the detail of his silk bed covers. “I just want to… reflect on my day.”

“Oh, that meditation thing you’ve been doing?” Draco hummed, not lifting his eyes from his book as he stretched his legs out, them resting by your head from where you were curled up at the bottom of his bed.

“Reflecting is not necessarily meditating, Draco,” you reminded him for the hundredth time. “Just because you have no thoughts whatsoever.”

“I have no thoughts?” Draco glanced over, raising his eyebrows at you.

You giggled. “Yeah - I bet it’s just lift music in your head.”

“Lift music?” Draco repeated, confused.

Your eyes lit up - another fact you could give him. You loved how confused he looked whenever you told him about the other world he had grown up despising. You adored the way he asked questions and pretended not to be interested sometimes.

“A lift is a Muggle invention. It’s a metal box thing that replaces stairs sometimes; you get in, press which floor you want and it takes you up or down,” you explained to him, “And there is music inside it sometimes. And it’s really slow and…” You noticed the weird look on Draco’s face, your voice fading away. “Never mind.”

“I don’t get it,” Draco hummed before turning back to his book.

It made you giggle and shake your head. You closed your eyes soon after, just thinking. About Draco, about the homework Snape had set you, the Hogsmeade trip you planned to go on with Pansy next weekend…

You can feel his eyes on you.

Your own peel open and you turn to face him. “What?”

“My book’s shit,” he admitted.

“You’re halfway through it.”

“Yeah, and it’s shit.”

You frowned, your eyes moving from his face to the cover of said shit book. “I recommended that to you,” you pouted slightly.

“Which is why, as you can see, I’ve tried to like it - but I can’t,” Draco said, placing the book back down onto the bedside table. “It’s boring. And I’m bored.”

“How?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Classes literally ended twenty minutes ago max.”

Draco shot you a look. “So? I’m still bored.”

“Too bad, I’m -”

“You’re meditating, I know.”

“It’s not - Ugh, whatever. Yes, I’m meditating, so leave me alone,” you replied, rolling your eyes before closing them yet again.

There was more silence. Draco seemed to respect your wishes, not saying another word. All you could feel was the silk sheets beneath your body, all you could smell was Draco’s scent and the fresh fragrance of his bed covers, and all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and Draco’s - as well as the sound of him adjusting himself on the bed a little bit.

You wished you could stay like this forever. After the long day you’d just had, this was the perfect way to end it. Maybe some cuddles from Draco would make it better, but that could come a bit later, maybe after dinner.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a weight above your legs. Your eyes cracked open and you glanced down, your brows furrowing at Draco. He wasn’t even looking at your face, he didn’t say a word, but he reached for your skirt and flipped it above your stomach, pulling your tights and panties down in one go.

“Draco -” You were cut off by his cold finger sliding up through your folds.

“Shh,” Draco muttered, still not even glancing at you, too focused on what was between your legs. “Go back to your meditating. I’m just… entertaining myself.”

You couldn’t complain with that. You found yourself complying, your head tilting back so you were facing the ceiling, your eyes closing. You weren’t really wet, much to Draco’s dismay, but you soon felt him spitting on your clit and felt it drip down your folds. His fingers slid it around, knocking purposefully at your bundle of nerves and causing arousal to spike through you.

When you felt yourself begin to get wet, your clit throbbing beneath his lazy, aimless touch, you couldn’t help but open your eyes, glancing down at him. He wasn’t even sitting between your legs - just beside you, his hand reaching for your cunt like he was half-heartedly playing some sort of game.

Draco’s silver eyes were entranced by your cunt, his fingers experimenting as they changed direction, moved about, all so agonisingly slow. After a minute of the torturous pace, his eyes flickered up to you and he lifted his hand towards your face.

“Wanna taste?” He asked as if he was talking about sharing food.

You opened your mouth anyway, two of Draco’s fingers slipping inside. You sucked around his digits, your tongue being invaded by your own taste - a taste that Draco insisted he could never get enough of. He pulled his hand away when you were done, looking back down at your cunt and beginning to rub again.

“Draco,” you whispered desperately as he hit the right place.

He glanced back up at you, smirking a little. “Does it feel good?” He murmured, voice deep and barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” you mumbled back, eyes clenching shut again.

His mouth touching your cunt nearly made you jump. Everything about what he was doing was so lazy, as if he had all the time in the world and he wasn’t there to make you cum but to just satisfy his own boredom and curiosity. Maybe that was the only reason he was touching you like this, but either way, you liked it. You liked the teasing nature of the whole thing, even though it was tortuous how slowly his tongue came out to lick up your folds.

Everything inside you wanted to wither and grab at his hair and tug, begging him to go faster, but you refrained; your hands remained gripping the sheets beside you, your small whimpers that made Draco’s cock hard filling his bedroom.

His mouth was wet, a mixture of his own spit and your arousal, as it wrapped around your bundle of nerves, your back nearly arching as he began to suck softly. Your breath hitched, not used to the aimlessness of it all. It almost felt careless, but his hand on your thigh said otherwise as his thumb stroked circles against your skin.

Your lips pursed together, a moan threatening to leave your mouth as Draco sucked, his aristocratic-like lips working idly. His tongue peeked to swipe across you and this time your stomach clenched, your legs nearly clamping around his head. But Draco’s grip on your thigh tightened a bit in warning.

“Draco, please…” You whimpered, one hand going down to gently grasp at his platinum locks.

His head pulled away with your hand still in his hair, much to your dismay. He leaned his head against your thigh, staring down at your dripping cunt. His finger moved towards it and he circled your swollen clit, feeling your legs tremble slightly beneath him. Then his thumb came out and he rubbed it in small figure of eights, his breath still fanning you from where he used your thigh as a pillow.

“So pretty…” Draco muttered.

You swore if he didn’t start acting like his usual rough self then you were going to start crying. It was agonising, the way he seemed to not care. In a way, it felt degrading - like this was for him and not for you, and it only made you soak his fingers even further.

Draco’s mouth dived back in for your clit. It was like he was making out with it, his lips capturing it and sucking, his teeth grazing it slightly just to hear your small hisses and loud whimpers. His nose nuzzled against your mound, his hands still on your thighs.

When you looked down, all you could see was the slow bobbing of his head. His tongue was unmatched, skillful and taunting, slow and painful, and you would do anything to cum right now. Anything.

You could feel the tightening sensation in your stomach, your brain growing fuzzier and fuzzier as you acted with your hormones rather than your brain. Your hand gripped his hair tighter, your hips rolling for more, faster friction. You half-expected Draco to pull away from you and warn you to keep still, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m gonna cum,” you admitted breathlessly.

Draco hummed against you, the vibrations making you cry out a little. You lifted your head back up to look down at him, finding his eyes already concentrated on you as he sucked your clit, rolling the knot between his tongue gently. You moaned loudly.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you hissed quickly before your orgasm washed over you.

Draco helped you ride it out, his tongue lapping up every wave of arousal, his hands still brushing your thighs comfortingly. He even groaned around your clit, encouraging you as you rolled your hips, your legs trembling even harder. His name slipped past your lips several times as well as some curses, before you were left breathing heavily on the mattress.

A whine left you when Draco didn’t stop kissing your cunt. “Draco…” You jerked beneath him slightly. “I’m sensitive.”

“I’m bored,” he murmured back as he pulled away, his fingers working at your clit and making you yell out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You knew for certain now; this was never about pleasing you, it was always about satisfying himself - and you knew you weren’t going to be let off the hook anytime soon.

TAGLIST: @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @lolooo22 @yyoflam @fjorelaant @cpetrova @bby-gxrnet @draysslytherclaw @dawnmalfoy @miarivi @hpotter3390 @justfangirlthingies @fleurwands @hufflepuffsophie @riddleswh0r3crux @dracosathenaeum @weaselbrownie @Dracoscumwh0re @miraclesoflove @wh0re4blaise @ilovemoviekidd826 @drarrysimp

[thevindicativevordan]

Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

[lottiethroughthelookingglass]

15x20 Coda

Can’t believe it’s the year of our Lord 2020 and I’m writing Supernatural fix it fics at 3am.... This truly is the bad place. Anyway here’s what happened immediately after the credits rolled on whatever that was...

“Sam and Dean stood, arms around each other looking out towards the vista. Heaven. Their heaven. United again, after everythi-“

“-Is he for real?”

“That’s what was saved on my computer. Supernatural – Final Draft.”

“This is bullshit.”

Becky shrugged, taking her laptop back from Sam as his face twitched uncomfortably. 

“Who did I even marry? Like, it wasn’t even Eileen?”

“I don’t know man but you named your kid after me. I’m holding you to that one.”

“I don’t even want kids. Our lives are crazy. Why would I do that to a kid?”

“Well I’m just glad Chuck didn’t get to go ahead with that one.” Becky said, sitting back down with her laptop, “I mean all of his drafts were honestly terrible but that one… I mean it didn’t even make sense considering your character arcs. Dean literally died like he thought he would at the beginning of the series and Sam, grows old with a random woman and doesn’t do anything with his life and not even mentioning Cas even though he was right there in heaven-“

Becky looked up to find Sam and Dean staring at her.

“I’m sorry, not that you guys are just characters or anything. But just, when I came back and I found that I was really worried you’d actually died in barn because you fell on a nail.”

“Yeah well I will be avoiding all barns from now on.”

Thunk. The three of them looked up to where Cas had knocked over a Funko Pop Sam.

“Sorry,” Cas readjusted Funko Sam so he could go back to back to fighting Funko Crowley.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group processed the revelation of Chuck’s ending. Becky sipped her tea as Cas sat back down next to Dean. Dean looked over to him, their eyes met briefly and they shared a small smile.

“Did I never even ask about Cas?” Sam shook his head breaking the silence. “Like, you come back from fighting Billie and say he’s dead and I just… never question it?”

“Well, none of you seemed very upset about my death in that story.” He turned back to Dean, “You were far more concerned with the pie and the dog.”

“To be fair that was probably the only thing that felt right there – pie is more important.”

Cas rolled his eyes and picked up another biscuit from the tray Becky had brought them. Ever since becoming human again he’d picked up a real sweet tooth. Dean was silently waiting for when Sam would start having a go at him too about healthy diets.

Like hell I’m going because of a rusty nail in a barn, Dean thought, I’m getting killed by a heart attack and Cas’s gonna die of diabetes. Sammy’ll still get to outlive us both though.

“It’d be nice to think Jack is doing that with heaven though.” Sam said, “You know, rebuilding things, making it actually good.”

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there. Which will not be soon, we fought for a bit of peace and I’m intending to actually enjoy mine.”

“We can just ask him next time he’s home.” Cas added.

Dean shook his head stifling a laugh with his hand, “Can you imagine if we’d made him God I mean- He’s three for crying out loud. He made me buy him a Marvellous Marvin the Talking Teddy three months ago.”

“You bought him that?”

“Wait so Jack didn’t become God?”

“God no, no he’s not God.” Dean plucked the biscuit Cas had just picked up out of his hand and started to eat it, “I mean he is up in heaven, but he’s just helping Michael get things running again with all the angels back from the Empty.”

“I’m confused, so you didn’t kill Chuck?”

“Noash fukind matr-“

“Chuck’s gone, but he’s not dead.” Sam interrupted the garbled explanation Dean was trying to make through a mouthful of cookie. “We found a way to umm- bind him I guess? In his own mind so he didn’t even know it was happening. Rowena and I did the spell and Dean set the trap.”

“I was still as useless as in Chuck’s version.” Cas clarified taking another biscuit to make up for his stolen one.

“Hey, if you hadn’t saved me from Billie we’d all have been toast. You were key.”

“Wait so Chuck’s not human and he’s not dead?”

“No- God I can’t believe he made himself human. I can’t believe we made him human and then said that was a punishment – sorry, no he’s kind of in a uhhh…”

“Alternate universe.” Sam added, “but one just for him. It’s more like an alternative plane of reality inside his own mind where he can write whatever stories he wants and think they’re real but they’re not. They can’t hurt anyone.”

“But he’s God so…. They might be real? He could be making them real.”

Sam twisted his mouth thinking, it was something he’d considered but didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well it’s not us.” Dean declared, “And honestly, if he makes another world with other Sams and Deans and Cas’s and Jacks then they’ll defeat him some other way. Like Inception, but with God!” He grinned at his reference even as the rest of the room ignored him.

Becky leant back in her armchair letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you guys are ok. You too Cas, he was really adamant about killing you off.”

“Dean was very adamant about bringing me back.” Cas looked over to Dean, a soft smile and look of adoration of his face.

Dean blushed, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Yeah well, I had some stuff to say.”

Becky grinned, taking a sip of her tea as Sam suddenly started to find the wallpaper very interesting.

“So, what are you guys going to do know?” Becky asked after the moment had become sufficiently awkward. “I mean no Chuck, no apocalypse, no world to save. Are you going to keep hunting, or…?”

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. 

“Honestly, I’m thinking Chuck had it right with the pie festival.”

Becky and Sam laughed at that.

Cas took another biscuit

***

Dean closed the boot of the Impala with a soft thud. Becky had given each of them one of her dioramas she sold on Etsy. It was always a bit weird being reminded that their life was a story that some people liked to collect stuff from for fun but he had to admit the miniature scale replica of Baby she’d given him was awesome.

Sam stood at the door giving Becky a hug and thanking her for the lunch. She hadn’t quite explained to the rest of the family who these three strange large men were that were randomly joining them for lunch beyond “They’re just some Supernatural fans I know from the internet.” Her husband had spent the entire time struggling to believe that lie even moreso after Cas had slightly traumatised one of the kids with an in-depth description of the dangers of invasive wasps to honey bee colonies.

Dean wandered over to where Cas stood beside Sam and Becky.

“Thanks again for checking on us Becky.” Dean said, accepting the hug she gave him.

“Of course, I always knew you’d beat him but it’s good to know for sure.”

“Sure is.” Dean took a step back, “Well I guess we’ll be seeing you?”

“Next Supernatural convention?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if there’s a ghost?”

“You do know we’re not the only hunters in America.” 

Becky bit her lip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she paused, “it’s just, this is exactly how I would have written it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, Dean brows knitted as Cas tilted his head.

“I don’t- not that you had to go through all that. Just that now you can actually take a break. Be normal, do your laundry-“

“-Sam and Dean have always done their laundry. That’s how they clean their clothes.” Cas piped up in confusion.

“-Be happy. Get to actually enjoy living in the world you saved. Have free will and be at peace.”

Dean chuckled, “I mean I’m personally good with never doing my laundry. But you’re right, it’s weird but good.”

“We’ll stay in touch Becky.” Sam said.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They waved their goodbyes and walked back over to the Impala. Dean got in behind the wheel, Sam in shotgun and Cas in the back.

Turning the key the Impala revved to life. The radio began to sing, the opening chords to Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Song filling the car. 

Dean slammed the radio off.

“God, I think Chuck has forever ruined that song for me.”

Sam laughed, in the back Cas even let out a chuckle as he leant his head against the window ready for the long drive home.

It wasn’t their heaven. Not yet anyway. And that made it so much more.

[sinnabonka]

It’s spec time: Love always wins

(Okay, I promised it, I’m doing it, there’s no stopping me now.) 

For the last three days I’ve been all over the place emotionally, clinging to every post saying Cas is not dead dead, saying his story is not done, but then someone wrote the “but” post and, there I go again, down the bottomless pit of angst. 

I’ve been a Schrödinger believer for so long with this show, one can get used to it. 

I know I’m not the only one feeling this way, regarding whether Cas is coming back or not. We won’t know till we know ©

Ep 19 speculations here

But let's speculate!

Apparently, there's nothing better for me to do way past midnight on Saturday and on Sunday morning (when I’m writing this). 

What makes us think 15*18 might indeed be the end of Castiel’s story:

Everything the crew and Misha told us, officially, is pressing toward Cas dying permanently in this scene. “Proud ending”, indeed. 

Castiel’s story has the perfect symmetry this way, with the handprint, the “Hello, Dean” - “Goodbye, Dean”, and the whole “Dean Winchester is saved” theme.

He is smiling, while Empty takes him, he’s content with his sacrifice. 

Something about Castiel’s monologue didn’t sit right with me for some time. The whole point of happiness being not in having, but in being and saying, gave me an idea of it being the way writers say we can’t have Destiel, but we should be happy to know it’s real and to hear it said aloud after all those years. 

Supernatural had to be the story of two brothers and their journey, and Winchesters driving in the sunset is the most probable endgame we are gonna get. 

Even though all those points seem valid, we can’t trust any of it. 

Let me fix it for you:

It wouldn't be the first time the crew lied about someone being on set. 

The handprint was not scripted. I repeat, the handprint was not scripted.

Castiel’s monologue could be just about loving Dean, and it’s just my poor wounded heart looking too deep into it and seeing my angstloving reflection on the bottom of the well. 

And Supernatural might indeed be about family, but, as we know, family doesn’t end with blood, and doesn’t start with it either. Cas is family, after all. 

I’m glad be are clear on this one.

What tells us Cas is coming back and we are getting Destiel endgame:

(Brace yourself, it’s gonna be wordy)

1. The most obvious, without rewriting his memory or going OOC, there’s no happy ending for Dean (not the crappy bittersweet substitute) without Cas. 

Even without the love confession in place, we’ve seen what Cas’ death did to him before, it shuttered him to pieces. Imagine the damage it's gonna cause now! 

“I love you, I always did, bye bye now, have a long and happy life knowing my feelings for you have killed me dead.” Really? No win can make up for it.

2. My fave point, aka the natural dynamics of storytelling. The big loss predicts the big win. The deeper the wound, the brighter the prize. Following the roller coaster this season has been, we should be up for a pretty high damn up pretty soon. 

So, there’s The Big Loss (losing Eileen, all of their friends, all the people on Earth and Cas). 

Next - The Big Win (defeating God, getting their free will back, getting humanity back). 

Then, we should have The Big Regret and Reflect moment (Sam and Dean talking a lot at this point, realization of things which are important, what they want with Chuck gone). 

And at the end, there’s The Ultimate Happy ending waiting for us (see point 1 again in case you are not sure what that means).

3. You know what, forget it, this one is my favorite. The parallels. Throughout this season we’ve been spoon-fed with context (Geez, it feels nice to finally know we are not crazy, we are not seeing things, we got it all right!) and writers chose to do so via parallels, via reflections, subtle hints. 

It would be some lazy storytelling to shove everything to our faces, so, instead, we’ve got: Charlie and Stevie, Sam and Eileen, the world and humanity, Dean and Cas. 

Everyone separated. Forever? No, not really. And I don’t buy everyone getting their loved ones back, except Dean. C’mon.

4. Unresolved love confession. Yes, Cas might have died with a smile, meaning it’s enough for him to speak his truth and be gone. But Dean? Him sobbing in the dungeon, ignoring Sam’s calls (he literally never chose anything above Sam before), the “Don’t do this, Cas” part - it’s the lowest he’s ever been. 

To sum up, Dean didn’t get his closure. He might have needed five to six business days to process, but he still has his truth he has to find out and then give a voice to. 

And yeah, I know, he could confess via prayer or something, but we all know that’s something needed to be said face to face.  (Btw, he already confessed to Cas in purgatory via prayer once, you can try and prove me wrong, but good luck with that, sunshine.)

5. The perfect symmetry. If I were in SPN writers room, I would literally cry my eyes out of joy at the symbolism this ending gives. I would literally fight everyone against it. 

The broken man not deserving to be saved is dragged from Hell by the most loyal and righteous angel Heaven ever seen. 

VS

The fallen angel not deserving to be loved is dragged from Empty by the most loving and caring man the sun shone on.

I mean, c’mon, people. Poetry.

(We are nearing a very important thing here, fasten your seatbelts, please.)

6. The message the show wants to give the world has changed. From “it’s all about the journey, about saving people, killing things, no one ever gets what they deserve”, the philosophy has changed drastically toward the “good things do happen, you deserve to be saved, to be loved”. 

Come and see what lane we are walking right now: allowing yourself to love again, to experience things again / losing the love of your life a moment later / fighting for your love / winning your love back. 

I believe the final message is: love always wins. 

Love is not one’s weakness, love is power, love is strength, it’s a perfect fuel. 

Humans declare war in the name of love, kill and get killed in the name of love, but, most importantly, humans live and win those wars in the name of love, too. 

7. Go big or go home is on the table, and no one goes home this time. 

Supernatural was a bunch of broken glass for soooo long, I think this time writers are gonna give us something good, for a change. Not bittersweet good, but actually cotton-candy-almost-diabetes-sweet good.  

Why? 

Because *loud and clear* we deserve having good things happening to us! 

Also, it’s The End, the creators have nothing to lose, but, on the other hand, the ultimate happy ending would allow them to leave an enormous mark on the world and Supernatural to be known as the only show that actually could.

To sum up:  

Dean can’t be happy with Cas gone and, following the logic of prebuilt parallels, he won’t have to - everyone gets their loved ones back at the end, because love always wins. 

Cas might be at peace with speaking his truth, saving Dean and being gone, but it is not fair, Dean also deserves a chance to be heard. 

Few seasons ago I would laugh in my own face for these arguments, but the philosophy of the show has been transformed. During the last few years we were being prepared for this moment, slowly, gently being led toward this moment. 

Supernatural has to give us the Destiel endgame to prove their point.

click x click for more

[bakugohoex]

I'm so happy for you! Congrats for 1k! 🥳🥳🥳 I saw there was one fluff prompt left, number 10 I believe. If it's still available could you do it with Porco?

“we were never just friends”

pairing: porco galliard x female reader

cw: fluff, language, a lot on intimate moments that make me sad that I’m alone

word count: 2700+

a/n: please im sorry that im still working on my 1k event when i have a 2k event going on at the same time, but i wrote this fic in a sprint thing on discord and surprisingly I think i did okay with it.

summary: in which Porco relives moments of his love for you until he finally gets what he had always wanted

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Porco didn’t understand the first time he met you would be as children; he saw those tender eyes and that soft sunflower dress, and he couldn’t help but fall in love. Maybe it was a childish dream or some misconception that this was the love that he had so often seen between his parents. But he knew from that very moment seeing you with your hair up in pigtails playing in the sand he had fallen in love.

His eyes stayed focused on you, his shorts showing the grazed knees he had had from sliding along the grass against his mothers will. But the sound of his screams as he ran towards the sandcastle you had made, and the crying as a consequence of the fallen castle made him realise this wasn’t a real way to introduce himself. He looked between those damp tears and the sand that speckled across your chest and knees and he knew this moment would be ingrained into both of your minds for the rest of your life.

He knelt in front of your timid body, eyes tearing up as you looked like you wanted to chuck sand at him. Your mother hadn’t noticed the tears as they were silent, but as Porco brought his hand out, moving his small fingers to touch your cheek he felt the cold tears stream down your face. It wasn’t his fault, or maybe it was, but at the time he felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

You looked up to meet the blonde, his dinosaur t shirt and beige coloured shorts made him look like any other child. You don’t know what got into you too stare at his childish figure. Maybe it was because you were a child yourself but seeing this random child apologise for kicking down your hard work and effort. It brought some relief, “it’s okay.”

He wiped away the tears as he spoke once more, “I’ll help you build another one.”

You nodded in an instant as he grabbed the plastic mould and started digging for sand. Maybe it was the start of a new friendship he didn’t know at the time but here he was lying on his bed reliving those childish memories that he had had with his only love.

It had been years since that incident, a decade even but you still remained close to him, still had him at arm’s length. He was the boy who had spent years pining over you whilst you always just seemed out of his grasp. He stared once more at your text message, once again speaking about your date with Reiner.

All he could do was send good luck for it, what else could he do? You were his best friend, key word being friend and nothing else, nothing more. He could only just wish to see you happy and if it meant with Reiner who was he to suppress your happiness.

He couldn’t help but admire his lock screen, the love and admiration he had for you, maybe it was because of the many years he had spent following you around like a lost puppy, but the way his eyes would almost widen each time you spoke. He looked down through his camera roll, he couldn’t help but relive all these memories he had had with you.

The first time you both went into high school together, the first day that you both had found other friends. Met new people and happened to form your own group, Porco knew everybody knew of his little crush on you. Who wouldn’t, the way you’d both walk to and from school or the way he’d always be on call with you to just talk about anything.

Maybe this was the sign, the push to admit his feelings but he never did. It had been a stupid party; his camera being filled with that night months ago. The night were you both went to Eren’s stupid party, the night where he had found you in the arms of another.

“I hate Eren.” You had muttered to the boy.

He scoffed as his arm rested loosely against your shoulder, “who doesn’t, he put me in a headlock in PE once.”

“And you didn’t fight back, aww I’m proud of you Poc.” He rolled his eyes at the nickname, he hated it, but he knew that from your lips any name of his would sound so pretty. “I heard Reiner’s going though.”

Ever since that stupid Maths class with Reiner you almost seemed infatuated with the boy. Porco hated it and knew he’d have to keep an eye on you for the rest of the night. As you both walked through the doors, already seeing drunk teenagers and couples making out. Porco became jealous, he might have hated the idea of ever having his first kiss with you in a rowdy party. But the way he wasn’t even able to keep you by his side, to show you off to Reiner and the others because you really meant more than the world to him.

Your eyes scoured around the room and in a matter of seconds you faced the brute of a blond, he hated how you left his side. Hated how Reiner beckoned you forward as if you were his, you weren’t you were Porco’s. Porco shook his head as he stared at the two of you before going off to find anybody except the two of you.

He didn’t know what went into his head to drink as much as he had that night. He stared at the photos on his phones, many drunk ones of him falling about but he might not have remembered the night that well. But a memory would forever remain ingrained in his head.

The shift of his weight from the alcohol and the way his eyes landed on you. His sweet childhood friend on Reiner’s lap, his Y/n, the girl with the sundress now draped across Reiner’s lap, hands around his neck as your lips had been attached to his own. The couples Porco had seen, had envied for not being the two of you had all divulged into you and Reiner.

His arms against your waist, your hands tugging at his blond hair, Porco eyes flashed red. He wanted to run up and take you away, grab your arm and leave but he didn’t. He looked at the two of you and left. Walked out of the house, telling Mikasa to let you stay the night and then left, he couldn’t face you, couldn’t walk home with you and see your smudged lipstick, see your dishevelled hair.

Porco’s eyes stayed firm at the multitude of texts that came through, you had sent him voice notes after voice notes about what you were wearing and the plan for the night. Now here he was listening to them and replying half an hour later, you were probably out there, probably with him, kissing him, holding him, loving him.

He chucked his phone to the ground as he stared at the many photos of the two of you and your other friends. Every moment with you always felt like a whole other world, maybe you felt the same way or maybe you didn’t. But he would always keep it hidden, he knew better than to let his emotions fuel his rage. Because in the end all he wanted was for you to be happy and if it meant giving up his own, who cared.

The sound of his doorbell going off made him sign it was probably his mothers friend. He stayed staring at the memories, he could have been out right now. Could be with Zeke or Pieck or anybody but no he was in his bed mopping per usual, his mothers voice boomed through the house as she shouted his name.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” He groaned as he swung his legs off the bed, his eyes straight down the stairs. He didn’t know who it could be, possibly Bertholdt wanting to borrow his switch again or Colt asking for Marcel as well.

He rubbed at his eyes as he was finally met with you. In that pretty dress you only wore for special occasions, those bright eyes that brimmed with tears and that soft smile you tried to put on. His mother left as you moved towards the stairs, both unable to speak as you walked up to his room, the room you had spent countless nights sleeping at. The room where you both spoke of your dreams and aspirations, the room where he had fallen even more in love with you.

You sat on his bed refusing to meet his eye as he leant against his door, “what happened?” His phone remained chucked to the ground, the lock screen of the both of you flashed as the group chat seemed to be buzzing about something. He was about to walk over and check it but your croaky voice stopped him.

“Don’t…please.” He looked at your figure, the way you look vulnerable and almost nimble, he moved to your body, hands against your shoulder as you leant into his own. Tears finally falling freely onto his shirt, “I…I thought he liked me Porco.”

“What did Reiner do?”

The whisper and tension around the room was low but he kept you close by his arms, “we…we were supposed to hang out and when I met up with him he was all over Historia.”

Porco’s eyes flashed in rage, Reiner had no right to do that to you. To his girl and at that moment all he could think about was the hurting you must feel, he may have hated Reiner from the beginning but seeing you with tears from an undeserving man broke him the most. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You both stayed in each other’s arms, his lingering touches and eyes that filled with so much love as he kept a hold of you. His perfect girl that would never be his, “don’t leave me Poc.” It had been a whisper but the way his hand caressed your hair, the illuminating moon cascading through the background as it lit up the room. Every memory and past version of yourself, you looked out seeing the picture of the two of you from years ago, “that was the day I fell in love with you.”

Porco stayed silent, he didn’t think you understood what you had said, pointing at the two of you at the treehouse his father had made for you at 13, but he remembered that day as if it was yesterday.

“I can't believe he actually made it for you both,” you got all giddy as you climbed the ladder, Marcel already up there, you helped Porco up as you looked inside the treehouse.

Porco shrugged as you both looked around the place, the disposable camera your mother had given you around your neck as you stayed firm in your want to take pictures of the world. He watched you take pictures of the different parts of the treehouse, one of Marcel sleeping as he finally showed you what he had brought.

“We can put our names in the tree, make the world know we were here.” Your eyes widened as Porco wrote his initials with a plus underneath and you wrote your own. The way he told you to keep your eyes closed as he engrained around your names a heart, you had always thought it was a friendship heard but wanted it to be a heart of love. A sign of new beginnings of a relationship that could possibly occur. “Now we’re together forever.”

You hugged the boy as the two of you spent the rest of the day in the treehouse, his mother coming and taking the exact picture of the two of you that was now plastered against Porco’s wall.

It was beautiful and you didn’t mean to confess your own truths, Porco stared back at you, his eyes widening as he grabbed your wrist. “Y/n…”

“Forget what I said.” You muttered as you looked back out of the window, more and more memories each one holding moments of how deep your love ran for one another. The first time you both went swimming and Porco helped you into the deep end or the many trips out to the beach where you and Porco would run into the sea.

Childhood friends meant nothing when all you both really wanted to be was lovers. And as his firm grip stayed on you, his eyes filled with wonder and desire looked back at you with lust and love. All he could see was love, a type of love that had only ever been shown for you because he knew there would never be anybody else.

“It’s you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I hope what I heard was true, I pray it was because Reiner doesn’t deserve you Y/n, I…I need you.” The last part was nothing more than a murmur but as you finally looked into his eyes, his pretty smile and pretty face. He knew you knew; he knew that there was something more than that, “we were never just friends.”

With those final words, reality hit the two of you both were never just friends. He gave you a look, his eyes filled with lust as he looked down at your lips, hands moving to hold onto your waist. His love, his girl in his arms for the first time, “I love…”

You trailed off as his lips met your own, the tears having stopped and your hands cupping his cheeks. His soft full of life cheeks filled with admiration and adoration at the girl that had finally become his, he loved you, he did and now he knew that you loved him.

The kiss was soft, you both stayed in one another’s arms as his soft lips kept at a boundary but as soon as a moan slipped from your mouth his tongue had divulged inside. The heat from the past decade all coming to this one kiss, one look at you and he finally saw his love, the truth behind his sadness.

He had hated seeing you kiss Reiner, he had and now he would put that hatred and replace it with the love he had for you. He put you down onto his bed, his hands around your waist as he kept his mouth on your own. Kissing you with such passion and drive that his parents could probably hear the squeak of the bed.

He looked down at you, having finally let you go, arms to your side as he looked at his love. “I love you.” He knew he was repeating his love, but he wanted you to know, wanted you to never forget that his love knew no bounds that he would forever be yours and hopefully you’d forever be his.

He was about to kiss you once more, but you spoke just as his lips gilded against one another, the hush of it all, the way his breath fanned against your lips. You licked your lips and Porco could almost taste your saliva as he waited to hear your words. Waited to see the woman he loved speak truths about their future with one another, your hands wrapped around his neck making sure to not bring him to another kiss.

Instead to see his eyes widen at the proximity of another, the way he kneeled between your legs, spreading your dress apart, the way his hands stayed firm against your head. An intimate moment for the two souls who had finally become one, “I want you, you…you deserve to know the truth.”

He hesitated but nodded waiting for a reply, he didn’t care if whatever your next words ruined any moment the two of you were about to have. He just wanted to hear you say your wants and needs for him one last time.

“Reiner…he was a distraction…I thought you liked Pieck so…so I let you pursue that.” You whispered, he hated thinking that you thought he liked Pieck, the way you went to Reiner as an alternative when the two of you could have just spoken about your feelings.

But at this moment he didn’t care, he had you in his bed, in his arms and the past meant nothing to him when he knew there was a future for you both. “I’ve loved you since I kicked your sandcastle Y/n and I’ll love you for the years to come”

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just fill out the form in my navigation or send an ask and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @cathy8taffy  @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @kuroos-world @levisfilm @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows  @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann @zlatanakermann @c0urtn3y @bakuhoesworld @halloweeniebicth @jaegerswifey @ukigxmo  @decayedz @ackeroki @peachysimp @deargalaxy @strawberryspices @n0baraa @shisoaya @suna-reversed

[secretsickysideblog]

dumb lucky

"“you know my favorite color?” bucciarati slurs, brows furrowing. “anyway, it also came in purple, and black, and ivory, so I bought all of them, and uh…” “that’s cute,” bucciarati smiles, and abbacchio nearly dies at the way he looks while smiling unabashedly, weak as it may be right now. “you know my favorite color.”'

a mission takes bucciarati and abbacchio all the way to a town in piedmont where bucciarati finds himself fever-riddled in the midst of a snowstorm. abbacchio finds silver linings.

(sicktember day 1 - fever)

read under the cut!

It’s only tradition for things to go wrong for Passione. 

Well, perhaps that’s a lie--normally, they get dumb lucky. But this means that when things go wrong, they go incredibly wrong in multiple ways at once. It’s only fair for the amount of times the gang has narrowly escaped death by the skin of their teeth. And Abbacchio is grateful that neither he nor Bucciarati are running the risk of death right now; it could be much, much worse.

But this mission could certainly be going much better. After all, Abbacchio never thought he’d be buying fever reducers in a little town in Piedmont, Italy as a part of the job of Neapolitan Mafioso. He hadn’t expected to be led all the way to Piedmont in the first place. 

Easy mission my ass, Giovanna, he laments internally, rolling his eyes as he compares the prices between on and off-brand fever reducers. Abbacchio doesn’t usually bother to buy things like this, but Bucciarati’s fever--yes, a fever that had managed to swell up to a whopping 39 degrees overnight while on a mission--definitely needs to be treated. 

He settles on both bottles, and he grabs a pack of water bottles, too. Abbacchio peruses the shelves, considering what else Bucciarati might need. He’d rather not come trudging out through this snow again if he could help it; it started coming down last night and hasn’t shown any sign of stopping since. He grabs another thermometer, a can of soup, and he’s about to head to the register when he spots something else that catches his eye.

It’s a large blanket in blue--Bucciarati’s favorite shade of blue (not that Abbacchio bothers to remember things like his Capo’s favorite color), and god, does it look soft. His gaze wanders to the window. Snow falls in clumps, kicked up into a white mist by the wind, and Abbacchio could shiver just looking at it. He does shiver thinking about the short walk back to the motel through that storm. 

Abbacchio sighs, runs his fingertips over the inviting fleece. A blanket couldn’t hurt. 

He grabs it and tucks it under the arm without the basket only to spot that there’s another of the same in purple. And another, in ivory? Abbacchio isn’t someone tempted by luxuries, but blankets in the cold seem like a necessity. 

So he picks up both. Because Bucciarati has to sweat out the fever anyway, right? He’s too out of it to be angry, anyway. 

Abbacchio lugs the three heavy blankets and the basket of various other supplies to the register, fishing around in his pocket for his wallet. The cashier looks over his selection as she rings up and bags each object, smiling fondly. 

“Taking good care of someone, I see.”

Abbacchio huffs, lips quirking upward to a ghost of a smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s about time he lets me.” 

“These blankets are on sale, you know. Buy one and the other is half-off,” and, in an expertly-crafted manner of egging him into it, the cashier finishes her sell with, “Everyone loves a good blanket. Perfect to cuddle up under.”

Abbacchio doesn’t anticipate growing the balls to ‘cuddle-up’ with Bucciarati, but something about the idea sways him into it. He stares at the blanket shelf in consideration for a long moment before giving in and grabbing a fourth, this one in black. 

The cashier is, clearly, proud of herself. Abbacchio can’t find it in himself to get as annoyed by this as usual. He did fall for her marketing scheme, after all. Can’t bitch about it if he gave in. 

Altogether, he walks out of the store with five bags slung on his arms, four of which are occupied by heavy fleece and tied off to avoid any of the snowfall. His boots feel like weights as he trudges through planes of muddy white, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. His hands are freezing--he wishes he’d bought gloves. 

When he finally returns to the motel room, Bucciarati is curled up on the bed. He looks just about the same as he did when Abbacchio left which is, admittedly, like shit. His hair, lacking its typical braid, fell in uneven layers wherever it wasn’t sticking to sweat-soaked skin. The only real color in his face is across his cheeks in bright, splotchy red, and though his eyes are closed now, they’ve been glazed over all morning. 

Abbacchio shakes his head in disapproval, wondering how Bucciarati managed to just ignore this, because he knows damn well it didn’t just spark overnight. He must’ve been feeling at least vaguely unwell before they’d embarked on this (unexpectedly) lengthy journey. Abbacchio tells himself, as he has every time he starts thinking about how his Capo sucks at self-care, that he’ll just bitch at him about it later; criticizing a sick person is mean, and besides, there’s not enough cognizance in his fever-addled head to comprehend annoyance right now anyway. 

He unties his scarf, shrugs off his coat, and unbags the items on the small coffee table in the room. Bucciarati stirs into half-lucidity, as told by the mix of a groan and a whine that slips from him after a bit of shifting around. Abbacchio looks over to him, seeing his hazy blues blink open, and he immediately grabs the bottle of fever reducers to force down his throat now while he’s just awake enough to swallow and not awake enough to protest.

“Here,” he holds out a bottle of water and two of the pills for Bucciarati to take, which he does after taking a second to process the command. He moves sluggishly, but he manages to get the pills down and put the water bottle on the nightstand. Abbacchio feels his forehead with the back of his hand, frowning at how much he’s burning still.

He goes to pull away. Bucciarati doesn’t let him, grabbing his wrist and holding his hand there.

“What are you doing?”

“Cold,” he mumbles, letting his eyes flutter closed again. “Feels nice.”

Abbacchio opens his mouth, closes it. Thanks the lord above that Bucciarati can’t see the way his cheeks heat up as though he’s contracted a fever. After a moment of hesitance, Abbacchio brings both of his hands up to cup Bucciarati’s cheeks, and the other man sighs contentedly. 

“Well, if it’s cold you want, maybe you should go take a nap in the snow,” Abbacchio jokes.

“Hm,” Bucciarati takes a breath. “Perhaps I should.” 

Abbacchio stares down at Bucciarati. At the way his eyelashes, dark and thick, fan out across his cheeks. At his lips, still pretty and pink and miraculously not very chapped. Even now, sick as a dog, Bucciarati is gorgeous. Abbacchio could watch him forever, he’s sure, but then he realizes how creepy he’s being and abruptly pulls away. Bucciarati’s eyes open with a dejected look to them, and Abbacchio reminds himself that it’s not because it’s his hands, it’s because his hands are cold and Bucciarati is delusional with fever.

“Uh, so, I got you two kinds of fever reducer, and you’re gonna take it whether you like it or not,” Abbacchio starts to say, clearing his throat. Bucciarati hums, half-listening. “I got water. A can of soup, if you get hungry, but since you just woke up I’m sure you’re not yet.”

Bucciarati doesn’t respond, so Abbacchio assumes he’s right. He’ll make him eat something later. 

“And,” Abbacchio unties the other four bags, “I know you’re not looking to get warmer, but fevers have to be sweat out, right? I got blankets. They were on sale.”

Bucciarati almost whines, though it’s quiet, subtle. Abbacchio opts to ignore it, because it does nothing good for his heart. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but look, it’s your favorite color,” Abbacchio holds up the blanket in proud display. Bucciarati looks at it, but it’s clear that he’s not fully seeing it. 

“You know my favorite color?” Bucciarati slurs, brows furrowing.

“Anyway, it also came in purple, and black, and ivory, so I bought all of them, and uh…”

“That’s cute,” Bucciarati smiles, and Abbacchio nearly dies at the way he looks while smiling unabashedly, weak as it may be right now. “You know my favorite color.” 

Abbacchio takes the tags off the plush fabric and chucks it at Bucciarati. Bucciarati, as expected, makes no move to catch it. It takes him a minute to slip the fleece off of his head and onto his lap. This process is repeated four more times as a mountain of plush fabric piles up on the bed--the singular bed, which Abbacchio would be incredibly nervous about if this was a year ago, but they’ve been stuck in the ‘unfortunate’ one-bed scenario too many times for him to care anymore. 

“This is...so many,” Bucciarati murmurs, staring down at the pile. He runs his thumb along the hem of the blue one. “They are soft, though.”

“I don’t know if you can feel how cold it is in here, much less out there,” Abbacchio gestures towards the storm just beyond the windows, “but we needed them. I don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here, between your fever and the bastard we’re after.”

Bucciarati nods, absently petting the blankets. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Falling ill,” Bucciarati says it like it’s the most obvious reason to apologize in the world. “We’re stuck here. It’s my fault.”

Abbacchio rolls his eyes. “Stop apologizing for things you can’t control.”

Bucciarati looks like he wants to protest, but then his expression turns confused as if his own thought process doesn’t make sense to him anymore. Abbacchio snorts at the sight and shakes his head before climbing into bed beside the other man and urging him to lay back down.

“I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” Abbacchio pulls one of the many blankets around them up to his shoulders, and another about halfway above that. He lets Bucciarati kick the others aside. “You’re warm, and I’m cold. I’m finding silver linings.”

Bucciarati chuckles a little. If he were any more coherent, he’d make a joke about Abbacchio’s usual pessimistic cynicism being an act; the latter is almost grateful, at that thought, for the fever. The wind howls outside as the storm picks up. It’s definitely not an ideal situation, but it could be much worse.

Bucciarati turns to nuzzle his face into the crook of Abbacchio’s neck. Tentatively, Abbacchio wraps an arm around him.

Maybe this was just dumb luck in disguise. 

[drsilverfish]

Signs and Wonders - of Angels and Mothers in 15x19 Inherit the Earth

Hi everyone,

I am late to the party as usual, and I haven’t jumped into the Tumblr hive mind yet.

First of all, I know this episode will have felt very painful to many of you, because of Cas’ absence and Dean’s contained grief. 

Look, those fuckers in the writers’ room are toying with us. Dean running up to the door to greet Cas, only to find The Devil instead? A deliberate twist in the narrative negative space, which screams in the story (lovers parted, and surely reunited). 

This episode does a lot of heavy lifting, in that it both serves as a “Brothers Only” ending for certain audience segments (who can, perhaps, depending on what happens, forever pretend 15x20 didn’t take place) and also, I surmise, for certain audience markets, whilst, at the same time, undercutting that ending (15x19) as sad, lonely and cheesy [that montage at the end, lol]. 

The visual narrative, which has always been one of SPN’s best features, had plenty to say of interest, so I thought I’d start there, with an angels and mothers theme.

Chuck’s empty world contains this shot of New York, which depicts a rainbow on the right, and on the left, a billboard which reads, “Switch, and get 100% total satisfaction”, whilst the billboard in the middle, for Coke, reads “Staying apart is the best way to stay united.” 

Cryptic, huh? But accidents don’t just happen accidentally. 

An LGBT rainbow, first off.  “Switching” could refer to bisexuality, but it also refers, perhaps, to a double ending structure, i.e. 15x19 and 15x20 as endings you can “switch”, in which case, “Staying apart is the best way to stay united”, could be understood as commentary on the two ancient SPN fandom strands (Bronlies and Destiellers) which a double ending structure seeks to accommodate. 

In that case Chuck (meaning the writers’ room) really is (as they told us themselves, via a reconstitued Lilith, in 15x05 Proverbs 17:3) a “low rent Dean Koontz”. I wrote about the possibility of a double-ending structure here, in relation to that Dean Koontz comment:

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/189090087949/hes-more-of-a-low-rent-dean-koontz-15x05

Next visual narrative marker (in my mothers and angels theme) was this shot of Dean next to the Margiekugel beer, which, as all the crazy and marvellous SPN beer meta writers taught us, is the beer associated with mothers in SPN. Dean as a nurturing figure here, yes, but I remain convinced we will see Mary Winchester again in 15x20. That would fit beautifully with Dabb’s Ouroboros narrative, because Amara resurrected Mary, and now, Amara is part of Jack-the Divine-Unity, and he [as her, apparent, killer] would surely wish to bring happiness to his adopted Winchester family by restoring her again:

Oh look, a Mary figure in the Michael church:

And an angel besides:

 Which recalls Mary’s line, long ago, in 5x13 The Song Remains the Same, spoken to baby Dean in-the-womb,  “Angels are watching over you.” Which now, resonates emotively back into the story, in a new way, through Castiel’s final, loving, sacrifice for Dean in 15x18 Despair. 

This shot was also interesting - Route 66:

On one level, this is a visual joke about one of Bucklemming’s (also the writers of 15x19′s) most joked about SPN episodes, 1x13 Route 666, otherwise known as the “racist truck” episode. I actually think that characterisation of the ep is a little unfair - it at least tried to tackle the horror of historic racism, albeit with a rather ridiculous horror show twist. 

BUT, on another level, that episode contains Dean’s lover, Cassie. And Cassie  has been read by many, as equated (by naming elision) with Castiel, in the show’s narrative subtext. So, we can (if we choose) read this sign as another poignant, subtextual, reminder of absent Castiel, in 15x19. 

Then we have this shot, of Dean by the “Men” and “Ladies” doors at this gas station, choosing “Men”:

Yes, of course he’s chosing “Men”, Silverfish - he’s going to the loo (I’m British). 

Neverthless, this kind of visual, symbolic, bisexual coding of Dean, is also a deliberate Ouroboros in the narrative, because Dean has been coded as bisexual, in the show’s visual and symbolic subtext, since S1:

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/115161057824/bisexual-in-the-subtext-since-s1

 And now? Now that the Winchesters are free of Chuck’s control, at last? Chuck, for whom Castiel’s rebellion, and Castiel’s love, for Dean, was never part of the story? 

Ah, well, that’s still to play for. 

Dean’s character is, in my view, at this point, still structured by the narrative glass closet (meaning, his queerness is visible to some, invisible to others, by design); a doubling structure. 

Dabb’s finale has now itself been set up as part of a doubling structure - 15x19 Inherit the Earth as one “ending”, and 15x20 Carry On, as another.   

[lunaslethifold]

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Part 1 (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader 

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~2.4k 

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Here’s the second part of the series, shorter than the last part as promised. Reminder that this series takes place the summer after Goblet of Fire and before Order of the Phoenix, and it doesn’t follow canon completely. I made the headquarters of the OOTP the Burrow instead of Sirius’ house, mostly because I wanted to write this in the Burrow setting. The beginning of this sort of sets up everything that is to come. Also, thank you so much for all of the support on the prologue! I honestly was hoping for like, 5 notes, so tysm! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Harry was sat on his bed, watching his older sister pacing in front of him. Slight annoyance started to creep up on him at her incessant movement. The Dursleys had left not long ago to get help for Dudley. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“Y/N, would you stop that?” Harry finally said, irritated.

“Expelled, Harry. Expelled! I can’t believe it. They can’t do that. It’s not right,” Y/N replied, completely ignoring what he just said. Harry almost rolled his eyes at her. “I mean, you were protecting him! Not to mention that he already knows about magic. Goodness, I should’ve been there-”

“Y/N, shh!”

“Don’t tell me to shh, Harry. I’m older than y-” This time, Harry did roll his eyes and placed a hand over her mouth, stopping her from continuing. Y/N attempted to pry his arm off.

“Did you hear that?” he said, lowering his hand.

“Hear what?” Y/N said, glaring at him. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped short when she heard it too. There were shuffling noises coming from downstairs.

“The Dursleys?” she mouthed at Harry. He gave her a confused look. “The. Dursleys.” She tried mouthing it again, this time slower.

“What?” he mouthed back, raising his eyebrows.

“The Dursleys,” she whispered to him. Harry still looked lost. “The! Dursleys!” Y/N whisper-shouted, exasperated. This time he understood.

“What about them?” he whispered back.

“Are they back? Is their car here?” she said, gesturing at the window that Harry was standing next to. It seemed to click in his mind and he searched for a sign of their presence outside. Nothing. He turned back to his sister and shook his head. They both pulled their wands out. The noise seemed to get closer and Y/N stepped in front of Harry.

The door to their room burst open and multiple figures could be spotted in the doorway. “Lumos,” a voice said, and the previously dark room was illuminated with light. The source of the light was a wand that was held by a woman with colored hair. She smiled goofily at Y/N and she almost smiled back. Almost. But she was still in protective sister mode and raised her wand a little bit.

While Y/N was looking at the woman, Harry seemed to have noticed a figure behind her.

“Professor Moody?”

-

Suddenly the Potter siblings were mounted on brooms and zooming through the sky. Y/N wasn’t nearly as good as Harry was on a broom, but she could hold her own. Although she was a little bit distracted with the whole being-rescued thing, she realized that the route they were taking was familiar to her.

“Oi!” she called to the woman who had smiled at her earlier. “Er… Tonks!” This caught her attention and she turned to her. “Are we going to the Weasley’s?” Y/N yelled. The wind whipped against her face and she squinted.

Tonks nodded. “Yeah, headquarters.” She also sent Y/N the same goofy smile as before. Y/N was a bit confused, but she smiled back this time. She could tell that she already liked her.

Soon the group approached the Burrow. Or, where the Burrow was supposed to be. It seemed to have vanished into thin air. When they landed, Y/N exchanged glances with Harry. He shrugged in response. It seemed that every year they were learning something new about the wizarding world. Moody lifted his staff and the charming house that they’d spent their summers at seemed to be growing before them. They all entered the house and a different noise than the usual hustle and bustle made its way to their ears. In fact, it seemed that there was arguing going on. And not the usual sibling back and forth, but actual heated conversation.

Y/N and Harry approached the dining room table, where all the commotion seemed to be. There, they caught sight of some of their favorite people.

“Remus!” Y/N said, reacting first. 

“Sirius!” Harry said from beside her. They were all wearing matching grins. As they tried to step forward, Mrs. Weasley blocked them.

“Now, now, we can say our hellos later. Upstairs you two, and we’ll call you for dinner in just a bit,” she smiled at them. Molly wrapped them in a quick hug and ushered them towards the stairs. Y/N glanced back before reluctantly walking up with Harry in tow.

When she reached the top, she was immediately pulled into a hug by Ginny. Harry greeted her before heading off to find Ron and Hermione. 

“Y/N! It feels like it’s been forever. I missed you,” she said, leading Y/N to her room.

“I missed you too. What’s with all the secrecy?” Y/N replied.

“They’re having a meeting. Mum says we’re not old enough to be allowed,” Ginny said, shrugging and fiddling with the books on her desk.

“A meeting for what, exactly? No one can give me a straight answer,” she replied, plopping herself onto the bed.

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course.”

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course,” Y/N mocked, making her voice much higher than usual. She picked up a pillow and chucked it at Ginny. She threw it back at her and rolled her eyes. “Hey, where’s Fred?”

“Oh, and here I thought you were excited to see me,” Ginny replied, smiling.

Y/N groaned. “You know that is not what I meant.”

“Dad sent him and George to town to get some things for dinner.”

“Ah, okay. So, tell me more about this Order of the Phoenix,” Y/N said, turning to Ginny. 

“Why tell when we can listen?” Ginny said with a mischievous glint in her eye as wide grins made their way to their faces.

-

That was how Ginny and Y/N found themselves in the situation they were currently in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to have the same idea and took the prime spot outside near the window. 

"I think I've got an idea," Y/N said. The plan was simple, really. Ginny would throw an old book she had lying around her room to the ground floor. Then, when Mrs. Weasley went to go investigate - she was the only one who had a view of the hallway from where she was standing - the two girls would duck into the coat closet that was near the door to the dining room. It was foolproof. Okay, maybe not so much. But Y/N really wanted to hear what was going on and there was no time to think of a brilliant plan.

The moment had come. Y/N sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for the sound of the book hitting the ground. When she heard it, she dashed down and before turning the corner, she peaked just to make sure that Mrs. Weasley was gone. She wasn’t. Y/N stopped herself from running forward. That was a close one, she thought. Just when she thought she was in the clear, Ginny came barreling down the stairs and smacked right into her. Y/N, clad in socks, slipped on the wood floor and fell down, taking Ginny with her. A loud thump sounded, and Mrs. Weasley’s head snapped in their direction mid sentence. She didn’t even hesitate before closing the door with her wand.

-

Fred and George were walking up the hill towards the house, bags of groceries in hand. “Do you reckon Y/N and Harry are here yet?” Fred asked George.

“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” George replied, watching the house reveal itself. They stepped into the hallway and their eyes landed on a peculiar sight. Well, peculiar for George at least.

“She didn’t hear! She didn’t get up from her spot,” Y/N said. Her and Ginny were sprawled in a pile on the floor and they were too busy conversing to notice them. 

“How is that my fault?” Ginny replied, trying to fix her disheveled appearance.

“I didn’t say it was-” Y/N began, but she was cut off when a pillow smacked her in the face. Ginny had reached behind her and grabbed it from the stack of laundry behind her. Time seemed to stop for a moment as a shocked and slightly offended expression settled onto Y/N’s face. She wasn’t genuinely offended, but George didn’t know that.

She recovered quickly and let out a shriek of, “Ginny Weasley! You’ll regret that!” Soon a storm of pillows and blankets were being thrown around the room as the sound of giggles filled the air. 

After a minute of this Fred set his bags on the floor and blocked a pillow that was headed straight for the side of Y/N’s head. “Oi! Stop trying to pummel my friend, will you?” Fred said, with a big smile on his face. Y/N turned towards him with an equally large smile on her face. 

“Fred!” she said, pulling him in for a hug. She reached up to touch the ends of his hair. “I like your haircut.”

“Your friend? She was my friend first, actually,” Ginny laughed, tugging Y/N to her side by her arm.

Fred opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N spoke first. “Actually,” she started, looking around the room for something. Her eyes landed on George. “George is my favorite Weasley,” she said, moving to stand next to them. She gently placed her hand on his arm, looked at him, and gave him a silly smile. “Hi, George.” 

George was taken aback when he felt a jolt where her hand was. Fred and Ginny seemed to be protesting her statement, but he didn’t quite register what they were saying. Her hand felt nice there and it seemed to spread warmth throughout his arm. She was still looking at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his breath hitched in his throat. Her smile was contagious though, so he managed to return it with a grin of his own. To George, it seemed like the girl next to him was looking at him for an eternity, but in reality it was only a few seconds. Something else caught her attention and she turned away, removing her hand from its spot on his arm. He felt himself almost… missing it. He tried to shake the feeling away.

What was going on?

-

The next day George woke up a little bit later than usual. Fred had already disappeared from their shared room. After he got ready he went downstairs in search of his twin. He tried looking everywhere, but he couldn’t seem to find him. George felt like he ran into everyone but who he was looking for. Ron, his parents, Ginny, and even Hermione. He was starting to get exasperated as he headed to the last place he thought Fred would be.

George went out the backdoor and headed to the big old tree where the treehouse that he and his siblings spent countless summer days sat. As he approached he heard laughter and chatter coming from it. He ascended the latter and found Fred and Y/N lounging lazily there. They looked like they were in their own world. As usual, George thought, laughing to himself.

“Stealing my best friend, are we?” George said when he was fully in. Fred and Y/N’s heads snapped up.

“Yeah, Fred, stop stealing his best friend,” Y/N said, sending her and his twin into hysterics. George was caught by surprise, but couldn’t help but join in too. He was a little bit confused, though. Y/N has grown less shy around him over the past couple of months, but she seemed to be letting loose more. This interaction had just confirmed what he thought when he arrived at the Burrow last night.

Y/N Potter had changed in George’s eyes.

-

George found himself conversing with Y/N more often than he supposed he had in his life during the next couple of days. She was suddenly more talkative around him. Not that he minded, though. In fact, George was quite enjoying her company; he hung onto every word she said. Whether they were talking about a prank Fred was planning or the upcoming school year, he couldn’t quite seem to get enough. But still, Y/N spent most of her time with Fred and Ginny. George was used to it by now, but for some reason this year he felt a bit… disappointed. He didn’t let it bother him, though, because he’s usually around Fred anyways. 

George took notice of other things about Y/N besides who she spent time with, too. It first happened one evening when everyone was in the yard, save for Y/N and Ginny, who were meant to be doing the dishes. Keyword, meant.

George had run out of pumpkin juice after a particularly long match of quidditch with his brothers, so he ran into the house to get a refill. He made it to the doorway into the kitchen and paused to take in the scene in front of him. And pause he did. 

The sun was setting and gave the Burrow a warm glow. The sound of a muggle song that George hadn’t heard before echoed through the kitchen. He wasn’t listening to the song, though. His attention was on the girl who was dancing with his sister. They were throwing their arms about wildy and jumping around like no one was watching them. Well, no one was supposed to be watching. Their laughs filled the air as they took turns singing the lyrics. Ginny grabbed Y/N’s arm and twirled her.

George was absolutely captivated. He felt like he had never seen someone look so effortlessly… well, beautiful. It was the only word he could think to describe her in that moment. The permanent smile that adorned her face, the comfortable clothes she was wearing, it all seemed like he had caught her in a perfect little moment. A grin made its way to his face and he gently leaned against the door frame. The song ended way too soon for his liking and the girls stopped to catch their breath.

Y/N turned around and noticed him standing there. She smiled sheepishly and waved at him. “What’s up, George?” she said, giggling slightly. When she said his name butterflies erupted in his stomach and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face.

This is completely fine, he thought. I’m fine. Sure, George.

Again, thank you guys so much for all your likes, reblogs, and comments on the prologue! I truly appreciate it. Let me know what you guys thought of this part. Also, what do you think of the length? Do you like them longer like the prologue, or shorter like this part? Thank you so much for reading!

[acearchivist359]

15x18 but they kiss this time

I wrote a fic based on the 15x18 script back when it came out but then I didn’t edit it till like a week ago so here it is now

also on ao3, titled an evening i will not forget which i got from a deancas edit to that song by dermot kennedy

  Castiel could not let Dean Winchester die. With Billie trailing behind them, Cas searched desperately for a way for them to escape but they had been running away from the door for a long time. He had tried to fly Dean out but he'd only managed to get as far as the other hall before his broken wings gave out on him. He headed towards the interrogation room, the most secure room in the bunker. The existing warding wasn't enough to keep out Death, but Castiel had more tricks up his sleeve than Billie knew. Dean stumbled along under Cas's arm, clutching at his chest, his breath heaving desperately. Shoving Dean into the room, Castiel shut the door behind them. Grabbing at Dean's pockets, Castiel found Dean's knife exactly where he expected it to be. In a quick motion, Castiel sliced open his palm and drew a sigil on the door. Dean gasped as he could finally breathe again.

  "Did it work?" Cas asked, urgently. His heart was pounding from the stress. Dean leaned against the shelf behind him, clutching his chest. He shut his eyes and nodded, tightly. "It blocked her grip on you," Cas explained as Dean caught his breath. Billie pounded on the door, causing the warding to spark. "Dean, she said that wound was killing her. Maybe we can wait her out." Castiel knew it was unlikely, and he could see Dean did too.

  "Yeah?" Dean asked skeptically, "And if we can't?"

  "Then we fight." Castiel replied. If there was one thing Castiel knew Dean Winchester could do, it was fight.

  "We'll lose." There was panic and doubt in Dean's voice. "I lead us into another trap. All because I- I couldn't hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill and because that's all I know how to do!" There were tears in Dean's eyes as his voice broke and Cas felt like he could feel it in his chest.

  "It was Chuck all along. We never should have left Sam and Jack. We should be with them now." Dean had begun to spiral, his breath speeding back up as his thoughts started to race. He leaned on the chair for support. "Everyone's gonna die, Cas. Everybody. And I can't stop it.

  Castiel's heart broke seeing Dean so broken. Dean could feel the panic welling in his chest, but he couldn't push it down. He couldn't think of a way out this time. He felt as though he were back in Purgatory, watching the clock wind down as he searched desperately for Cas. Billie was still pounding on the door. Dean and Cas turned to look at it, out of ideas.

  Billie pounded on the door again and Cas watched as the warding sparked, like it would all come down at any moment. Cas turned to Dean, devastated. He could see the resigned guilt and shame in Dean's eyes, and the panic behind it. Dean rounded the chair towards Cas.

  "She's gonna get through that door," Dean said. And with that Castiel watched as the last of Dean's hope faded from his eyes.

  "I know." Cas replied, resigned to the fact that if he was going to die today, he'd be doing it at Dean Winchester's side.

  "And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me." Dean could hardly get the words out as his mind reeled with all the things Billie could do to Cas to try and break him. Cas glanced at Dean. Dean's breath hitched, Castiel's own caught in his chest. "I'm sorry."

  There was more banging on the door as a heavy silence fell between the two. The sparks flashed, illuminating Dean's face, and something occurred to Cas at that moment. There was the spark of an idea filling his head. Castiel looked down at his bloody palm before looking at Dean. Dean looked back at him, face drawn and drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.

  "Wait- There is one thing she's afraid of," Dean looked at Cas, eyes wide and disbelieving. "There's one thing strong enough to stop her."

  Dean glanced at Cas, skeptically at first but he recognized the seriousness in Castiel's eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was saying 'that’s his serious face, yes' but that was 1000 years ago.

  Castiel took a deep breath, "When Jack was dying, I made a deal… to save him."

  "You what?"

  "The price was my life." Dean froze, he felt cold. He just got Cas back. "When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned. It would come for me and it would take me forever."

  Dean was still frozen with shock. His breath was caught in his chest. Castiel met his eyes and he broke. "Why-- why are you telling me this now?"

  Castiel shifted, processing how to express everything he wanted to tell Dean. "I've always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I've wondered what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like." Castiel smiled at Dean, and it was a small sad thing. "And I never found the answer. Because the one thing I want," Castiel paused, took a breath, and let it out, "it's something I know I can't have."

  Dean watched, arrested by the strange confession, not understanding where Cas was going. Cas looked up at him, eyes filling with tears and the beginning of joy. It puzzled Dean, the joy. All he could process was Cas's deal. He couldn't lose him again. He was reeling, trying to figure out what Cas was talking about, but his mind just kept screaming the price was my life the price was my life. He couldn't lose him again.

  "But I think I know- I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it." Castiel looked at Dean Winchester, taking in the sight before him.

  Dean felt unsteady and confused. He didn't understand, he was starting to panic. His mind was racing, his breaths coming quick and sharp. It was all too much, too fast. Billie was still pounding on the door. "Saying what, Cas?"

  "I know how you see yourself, Dean," Castiel stepped toward Dean, his voice soft, "You see yourself the way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry-- you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.'" There was an underlying urgency in Cas's otherwise gentle voice. "You think that hate and anger-- that that's what drives you. You think that's who you are." Castiel could see Dean's eyes, searching his face, looking for an explanation. "But it's not. And everyone who knows you sees it."

  Self-doubt welled up in Dean at the sincerity of Castiel's words. "Cas-"

  Cas continued, undisturbed, "Everything you've ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You've fought for this whole world, for love. That's who you are." Cas took an unsteady breath. Dean could hardly meet his eyes, unable to face the heavy praise of the angel's words. "You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know."

  Billie was still pounding on the door but Dean could hardly hear it over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t understand, he couldn't accept it. "You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell… knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the world because of you. You did that… you changed me, Dean."

  Dean's head was spinning, he felt as though his feet weren't even resting on the floor. Castiel's words hit him deeply, striking at the core of his self-doubt, chipping away at the heavy weight in his chest. "Cas, what does this have to do with-'' There was something in Cas's eyes that made Dean stop. He'd seen that look before. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?"

  "Because it is." Castiel smiled, but Dean's heart stopped. Castiel knew he had picked the right confession to make. The warding was fritzing, setting off sparks. Dean couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, his mind was just goodbye goodbye goodbye. He couldn't say goodbye, not again. He'd barely survived the last time.

  Castiel drew a breath and spoke his deepest truth. "I love you."

  Dean's breath came in sharp. He was frozen, paralyzed. His chest hurt at the sincerity in Cas's eyes. He swallowed hard trying to get words out past the lump in his throat. He was shocked, receiving this declaration from Cas. The way Cas saw him battling so wildly with everything Dean thought about himself. I love you, I love you, I love you. Goodbye, goodbye goodbye. Dean couldn't articulate the things he wanted to say. He couldn't say goodbye.

  Castiel was filled with joy. Saving Dean, speaking his truth, Castiel could find peace in that. He looked at Dean, committing him to memory, as he had done so many times before. He knew it was the last.

  The moment was cut short as a dark rift formed in the room. Dean turned to look at it over his shoulder as the door banged open on the other side of the room. Dean looked back at Castiel desperately, eyes filled with tears. He couldn't get the words out in time. "Cas-"

  Castiel placed his hand on Dean's arm, in the very same place he'd once gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and pulled Dean close. Dean's hand clutched at the sleeve of Castiel's trench coat, subconsciously. He couldn't let Cas go. He couldn't say goodbye. He had so much to say. Castiel summoned every bit of the free will Dean had taught him, cupped Dean's face with his free hand, and finally pressed their lips together. Dean's hands pulled at Cas desperately. It was all so much, it was so fast. Dean tried to convey the words swimming in his head through the pull of his hands, the returning press of his lips. He tried to think of a way out of this. This couldn't be the end, this couldn't be goodbye, not now.

  Loving Dean Winchester was the easiest thing Castiel had ever done in his millennia of existence, but pulling away from him took almost more strength than Cas had. He brushed his thumb across Dean's cheek. He could hear Billie and the Empty advancing on them. Cas took one last look at Dean's close-up face, his eyes closed. There was a smudge of Castiel's blood on Dean's face, matching the blood seeping into the sleeve of Dean's jacket. A visual connection of the first and last places Castiel ever laid a hand on him. It turned out Hester was right, when Castiel had first laid a hand on Dean in Hell he was lost. But he had found himself again with Dean's help. Cas knew he would never regret a single moment spent in Dean Winchester's presence. Castiel brushed a tear from Dean's face and whispered the last words he would ever speak against Dean Winchester's lips.

  "Goodbye, Dean."

  Castiel shoved Dean away with all the last ounce of angelic strength he possessed. Dean stumbled from the force of it, hitting the floor. Black goo erupted from the rift, heading towards Cas. Castiel took one last look at Dean Winchester, the righteous man, and smiled. Of all the missions he'd received from Heaven, protecting Dean Winchester was the one he had not failed.

  Dean let out a shout as the black goo from the rift consumed both Cas and Billie, like a tidal wave, before they all disappeared. Dean couldn't breathe, his chest hurt, his throat was closed. He had had Cas in his arms a moment ago but Cas was gone. He hadn't even said goodbye. Dean scrambled away from where the rift had been until his back hit the wall. He stared at the spot where Cas had stood, where Cas had kissed him, in disbelief. Dean had never felt so hopeless in his life.

  Dean sat, frozen in place, staring at the space in front of him where Cas should have been. He could still feel Castiel's lips against his, but the warmth of him in Dean's arms was gone. The room was so heavily silent. His phone began to ring, it took a moment before Dean registered the noise. He jolted from his shock, fumbling to pick it up. Dean should have felt relieved, to see Sam calling. He should have felt relieved that it was over. The shock that had dulled his pain had been driven away by the ringing of his phone. Dean scrambled for it, wanting to rid himself of the way it crushed his heart. Dean dropped his phone, putting his head in his hands. Castiel was gone and it had just finally registered. He hadn't said goodbye, he couldn't think of a solution, he couldn't think of anything. Only Cas's face and the black goo sweeping him away. He felt like he was crumbling from the inside out. Dean's chest heaved and he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

  He hadn't been able to say it back. Even the Empty itself was less hollow than the hole in Dean Winchester's chest where Castiel had been.

[rafecameron]

idk if u do rqst but i love ur writing! can u do jj x reader in a secret relationship bc shes a kook & also kiara’s enemy? maybe kiara having a lil crush on jj and when she found out, thats when the drama happens? kie confronts y/n and they get into a fight!! 🤭 im sorry if you dont do requests ): just ignore this then!

thank you so much for requesting! I haven’t written for JJ in so long I hope this is okay!

You didn’t necessarily enjoy sneaking around. You hated lying to your friends about where you were and what you were doing but you knew it was for the best. You knew your friends would look down on you for dating a pogue, but that wasn’t even what you were worried about. It was his friends. One friend in particular. Kiara. You knew kiara from school and you even used to hang out with her during her kook year. You were never what you would have called friends but you got along and were civil so when she completely turned on you at the end of last year you were more than a little surprised.

You had tried to talk to her, even if you didn’t much care for her you didn’t want any animosity between the two of you. But she hadn’t wanted to know and you’d given up trying pretty quickly. If she wanted to isolate herself from the whole school then you’d leave her to it. You never imagined your paths would have to cross much again besides sharing the same maths class. But then JJ had happened. And it hadn’t meant to happen.

You’d been at a kegger, nothing unusual about that. But your friend had ditched you to hook up with a touron so you’d found yourself wandering around the fire pit alone and more than a little intoxicated. That’s when you’d bumped into him. You’d seen him around before but you’d never spoken nor had the chance to get a god look at him. And now you had? You were enchanted. His messy blonde hair wasn’t something you’d usually find attractive but it suited him. You got lost in his blue eyes, eyes full of hope and laughter. You’d spent hours sitting with him, talking and laughing. Until kiara had appeared and all but ripped him from your side.

“Kiara what the hell?” You’d asked jumping up from the log you were sat on with a glare.

“Stay the hell away from my friends.” She spat back with a scowl to match yours.

JJ had intervened before a fight could break out, he held kiara back, profusely apologising to you before pulling her away. He’d found you on Instagram the day after and sent you another apology and since then you’d been practically inseparable.

“Do you think we will ever tell anyone?” You ask. Your chin was resting against JJ’s chest as you looked up at him, the sunlight coming through your window casting an ethereal glow across his tanned skin.

“I dunno y/n.” JJ sighs, he hated when you brought this topic up, “it’s complicated.”

“I know,” you lift your head, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek lightly, “but I mean in the future. Surely we can’t hide forever.”

JJ lifts his head, eyes softening as they meet yours, “one day yeah. Don’t think I don’t ever want the whole world to know you’re mine, cause I do.”

You quickly crawl up his chest and plant a kiss to his lips, the smile on your face making it hard to kiss him properly, “I want the whole world to know I’m yours. I want kiara to know I’m yours, so she can stop eyeing you up.”

JJ rolls his eyes and drops his head back with a groan, “not this again,” you hear him sigh, “she does not have a crush on me, y/n.”

“Yes she does!” You sit up, straddling his lap so you could look down at his face, “you don’t see the way she looks at you! Also, you’re completely oblivious to everything. I was dropping hints for weeks before finally out right saying I liked you.” You roll your eyes.

“That was different! I just convinced myself you would never be interested in a pogue like me.” JJ looks up at you, a small shrug rolling off his shoulders.

“JJ you know I don’t care about that stuff.” You lean down placing a kiss lightly to his lips.

“I know that now.” JJ replies, placing his hands on your hips as he kisses you again.

—-

It had been months since you’d started dating JJ, seven to be exact. And you’d both done a pretty good job at hiding the fact from other people. Your parents were out most of the time and your neighbours were elderly so it wasn’t hard to sneak him in and out of your house. You’d been to his a couple of times but he liked to keep you away from his dad as much as possible and you were perfectly okay with that.

You were currently attending what you were sure would be the last kegger of the year as the nights were starting to get noticeably colder as winter rolled around. You had a hoodie on, oversized and pulled over your hands to protect against the chill. You found it increasingly hard to stay away from JJ at keggers, because every time your eyes found him there was some touron trying desperately to get into his pants. You trusted JJ but that didn’t mean you liked to see it.

Your eyes were only pulled away from the blonde as a commotion broke out behind you. You weren’t at all surprised to see Rafe tackling someone to the ground, Topper not far behind him. Before you knew it there was at least eight people rolling around in the sand fighting. You tried to get away from the punches but before you knew it someone had been thrown in your direction, tumbling into your legs and pulling you to the ground with them. You let out a squeal as you fell backwards into the sand, hurting your lower back as you landed.

“Get off of me.” You growled pushing the drunk kook away from your legs.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being shouted, the kook was lifted away from you and chucked into the sand and suddenly JJ’s concerned face appeared in front of yours, “are you okay?” He asks his hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he looks you up and down for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine.” You smile resting your hands gently on his wrists, “my back hurts a little but I’ll be okay. People will see.” You tried to pry his hands away but he wouldn’t let you.

“I don’t care, that asshole could have seriously hurt you!” JJ complains, his hand moves to your cheek, “are you sure you’re okay?”

You open your mouth but you don’t get a chance to reply. “What the hell is this?” Kiara asks appearing behind JJ with a look of disgust on her face, “JJ? What the fuck?”

JJ looks at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in a scowl, “back off kiara, nows not the time.”

“I think nows a perfect time to explain what the fucks going on.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest as her friends join her, confused looks crossing their faces.

“Kiara-“ you begin but she cuts you off.

“I wasn’t talking to you! I swear to god if you’re messing with him I’ll beat the crap out of you.” Kiara steps forward, popes hand on her shoulder stops her.

JJ stands up, helping you up with him, “she’s not messing with me! We’ve been dating for seven months. We didn’t tell you because we knew this is how you’d react.”

“Seven months?” Kiara splutters out, “what the hell? If you’re using him for some plot to get back at me-“

“I’m not using him!” You step around JJ and closer to Kiara, “I have no plot to get back at you because I have no reason to! You’re the one with a problem here not me! I’m sorry that you’re like in love with him or something but he isn’t interested!”

“I’m not in love with him, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kiara steps forward again, now only inches separating the two of you.

“Okay let’s calm down a minute.” John B speaks up pulling Kiara back as JJ tugs on your arm, “I think we should hear them out before starting any fights.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been lying to you guys, but I knew the reaction we’d get. And we really like each other, we didn’t want anything to ruin it.” JJ explains with a sigh, “and in y/n’s defense, she wanted to come clean months ago, it was me who said no.”

“Well I didn’t see this coming.” Pope speaks up but he smiles and lets out a chuckle, “it explains why you’ve been so damn happy lately man.”

“You’ve really been dating for seven months?” John B asks with raised brows, you both simply nod in answer, “Look, I’m okay with it. Like Pope said, this is the happiest we’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Well I am not okay with this!” Kiara cuts in with a frown, “you know how I feel about her! I can’t believe you guys don’t even care.” She shoots you another glare before turning on her heel and storming off.

The boys watch her walk away for a few seconds before turning back to you, “we’ll talk to her, she’ll come around.” John B sighs and hurried after her.

“I’m happy for you guys!” Pope calls over his shoulder with a grin as he follows after his friend.

JJ lets out a huff of breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “that went bad, but not nearly as bad as I expected.”

“Are you kidding? She wanted to smash my face in!” You complain.

“Babe, she always wants to smash your face in.” JJ looks at you with a cheeky grin, “but at least I can do this now.”

He grabs your hips and leans forward, his lips meet yours in a slow kiss, your arms wrap around his neck and hold him close to you, “and I don’t care who sees.” He mumbles against your lips before connecting them again.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Late Nights

This is 2.5k words of fluff and essentially no plot. Set a week after the events of ICLU. I wrote the first part back in May right after I got the idea for ICLU and have been sitting on this ever since. 

*****

When the letters and numbers on the screen finally blurred beyond recognition, Riley closed the program she’d been working on and put the lab computer to sleep. Her eyes burned. She was horribly behind on developing this program; it needed to start beta testing days ago, but the team’s back to back multi-day ops and her impromptu trip with the Coltons on her supposed day off consumed all of her time and energy this week. 

Posing as a think tank, the Phoenix did have to do think tank-y things on occasion, after all, and every agent was expected to contribute to the organization’s public projects. Including a certain physically and emotionally exhausted hacker. 

Mac sat across from her, fidgeting with spare robot parts. Riley checked the time. 10:58 pm. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. She vaguely recalled Bozer teasing her about not spending the night in his lab again. Pointing at Mac, he’d said, “Good thing he’s just as much of a workaholic as you are.” Riley knew Mac was just there to keep her company—and because they’d carpooled—not because he needed to keep working, but she hadn’t bothered to correct Bozer. 

Groaning, Riley let her head fall into her hands. It felt like some invisible force was squeezing her skull, slowly crushing it like a grape. She needed to go to bed. Possibly forever. 

“You okay?” She glimpsed Mac’s concerned frown between her fingers. 

“Yeah,” she replied, dragging her hands through her hair. “I have a headache, that’s all.” Understatement of the century. “How long until you’re done?” 

Mac looked unconvinced; when it came to her, he didn’t miss much. Mercifully, he didn’t push for a more elaborate answer. “Um, I need a few more minutes to finish this, plus maybe fifteen more to clean up. Bozer will kill me if I leave a giant mess in his lab.” Riley managed a small smirk. Indeed he would. 

Riley figured it would be at least a half hour before he was ready to leave. Just enough time for a nap. “Take your time, Mac.” She stood, hauling her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m going to take a nap. Come find me when you’re ready to go.” He nodded. 

Sleep beckoning, Riley left the lab in search of a comfy chair. 

*****

Thirty minutes later, Mac found her curled up in her favorite chair in the war room. Knees tucked into her chest, head cradled in the crook of her elbow, she looked breathtakingly peaceful. 

He regretted waking her the moment he gently shook her shoulder. Riley grumbled something unintelligible that might have been his name. 

“Time to go home, Riles.” Mac shouldered her backpack and helped her out of the chair. 

Riley could barely open her eyes. She took one staggering step forward and nearly wiped out on the table she definitely didn’t realize was right in front of her. He knew she was exhausted—he was too—but this was alarming. She was burning herself out on the least important part of her job, and Mac didn’t understand why. A problem for tomorrow, he decided. 

Mac wrapped an arm around her waist, helping keep her upright. “Thank you,” she mumbled. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head. 

Mac’s truck sat alone in the underground lot. He was immensely grateful he and Riley had carpooled to work that day. Otherwise, if he hadn’t stayed to keep her company while she worked, she definitely would’ve spent the whole night in that war room chair. 

They drove home in silence. Riley quickly fell asleep in the passenger seat, head resting on the window. 

She was still out cold when he parked his truck in the driveway, and Mac couldn’t bring himself to wake her up twice in one night. He slid his arms around her back and under her knees and carried her inside, and Mac’s heart melted when she snuggled her face into his shoulder. He could hold her like this forever. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured. 

Mac laid her on the guest bed and rested her backpack against the nightstand. He quickly unlaced her boots and pulled them off, revealing bright yellow and orange striped socks. He chuckled, imagining her muttering at him to stop laughing at her socks. 

Grabbing a makeup wipe from the guest bathroom, it took him a few minutes to remove her stubborn eyeliner. No wonder, he’d seen it withstand blazing infernos, days in the woods, blood, sweat, tears, everything. 

He tucked her under the covers before retrieving her favorite pajama shirt—an old t-shirt of his—and shorts. Mac left them at the foot of Riley’s bed, so she could change into them whenever she woke up. 

Riley curled into a loose ball, snuggling her face deeper into her pillow, and Mac couldn’t help but worry as he closed the door halfway and retreated to his room. 

*****

Riley awoke in the middle of the night to her bra’s underwire stabbing her in the chest. She blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. She definitely wasn’t in the war room anymore. 

It took longer than Riley cared to admit to realize she was back in Mac’s guest bedroom—her bedroom for the year she’d lived with him. Mac must’ve taken her home from the Phoenix. 

Riley rolled onto her back, and her underwire stabbed her again. Fuck this, she thought, yanking off her tank top, then her bra, and sighing in relief as the straps fell down her shoulders. Chucking them both on the floor, she noticed the stack of clothes at the foot of her bed, blending in so well with the dark sheets Riley almost missed them. She smiled, silently thanking the man sleeping across the hall, and changed into her pajamas. 

While debating whether to stay or join Mac, Riley stretched her back and hips, joints popping softly. She could be lazy and spend the rest of the night in her old room, or she could go cuddle with her boyfriend, but that would require getting up. But if she got up, she could also brush her teeth. 

Had she even had dinner? Riley couldn’t remember. Her brain was still foggy. 

Ultimately, her desire to sleep with Mac and brush her teeth won out, and Riley hauled herself out of bed and across the hall, feet barely lifting off the ground with each step. 

Mac was a pretty light sleeper, so Riley slipped into bed beside him as quietly as she could. He stirred, but didn’t wake. Sinking into the mattress, Riley knew switching beds was the right choice. Her body relaxed more in Mac’s presence. She’d never realized how lonely exhaustion was, not until she had someone she could freely share with and who could empathize with her. Even so, she’d still lied earlier about how she really felt, mostly for the sake of her dignity. Mac was her best friend, but Riley was loath to outright admit to weakness, even to him. 

She wanted to snuggle into his warmth and tuck her face between his shoulder blades, but that would surely wake him up. And waking Mac up would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer just yet. So, Riley stuck to her side of the mattress, tucked her legs into her chest, and went back to sleep. 

*****

When Mac’s alarm went off, he wasn’t alone. Riley had snuck into his bed at some point and now curled into a tiny ball, facing away from him. 

He wished they didn’t have to go to work today, wished they could sleep in and he could pry some answers from her. But the world wouldn’t save itself. 

He texted Matty. Please don’t send us on an op someone else could do. Riley’s burning herself out, and I can’t figure out why. 

I’ll keep an eye on her, Matty replied immediately. 

Thank you. 

Leaning over to kiss his girlfriend’s cheek, Mac got up and went for a run. 

He did an easy three miles around the neighborhood, letting the cool dawn air wake him up. Mac smiled every time he passed someone else out for a run or walking their dog before the July sun made leaving the house practically unbearable. 

When he returned, Mac found Riley awake and making coffee for them both. Her back was to him, so Mac scanned her body for signs of stress or injury, finding neither. “Good morning,” he said to break the silence. 

Riley turned to him, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, and held out a steaming mug of coffee. Mac accepted, kissing her cheek in gratitude. It shocked him how easy it all was. She croaked, “How was your run?” 

Mac couldn’t deny the way seeing Riley in his clothes affected him—the same way, he realized guiltily, the sight had always appeased some primal, possessive part of his brain, even when they were just friends—but damn it hit differently when she wore a sleepy, lovesick smile and had just crawled out of his bed. Riley had always been his girl, but now she was his girl. 

The whole scene was sweet and domestic and everything he’d ever wanted. 

“Good,” he finally answered. “I even stopped to say hi to our favorite dog.” An elderly couple who lived a few streets away had a mini Aussie, who was quite possibly the happiest being in the universe. She would trot alongside her humans without a leash, but when Mac or Riley appeared, she whined and whined until her owners said “Go ahead,” and she’d come barreling full-force into Mac or Riley’s chest and lavish them with endless kisses. Her name was Freya. 

Riley’s eyes lit up in excitement. “My dog!” Mac chuckled, sliding onto one of the bar seats tucked below the counter. 

Changing the subject, Mac tried to be nonchalant when he asked, “How do you feel this morning?” Worry crept into his voice anyway. 

“Better,” Riley said, the mug hiding her face as she sipped her coffee. “Thanks for taking me home.” 

Of course he took her home. Even if they weren’t dating, Mac still would’ve taken her home and given her his clothes. There was no universe in which he wouldn’t do that. 

“Like I was going to let you spend the night in that chair,” he replied. Riley toyed with the hem of her shirt, her usual lively presence vanishing like a turtle retreating into its shell. Mac probed, “What’s up?” She sighed, still looking down. “Riles?” 

When she finally looked up, Riley’s eyes were heavy with guilt. “Do you know how many times I almost got us killed this week?” Mac waited. “Twice. I led us—led you—right into traps I should’ve seen from a mile away. And before that, I gave you a fucking panic attack that sent you driving through the middle of nowhere to come find me!” Her voice crescendoed. “And now? Now I can’t even get that stupid program to work right! I just want to be able to do one thing right. One thing! Is that too much to ask?” Riley let out a loud, frustrated groan, shoulders caving inward. 

Mac stayed in his seat, letting Riley have her space. He knew she didn’t like being coddled when she was frustrated. “I almost get us killed constantly,” he reminded her. “It’s part of our job. No one is holding it against you, especially not me. And that panic attack was the best thing to happen to me, because without it we’d still be waiting for one of us to find the courage to confess. This is going to sound hypocritical coming from me, but you can’t beat yourself up about that stuff.” 

Riley snorted. “Very hypocritical.” 

“You have to take the small wins as they come, okay? We’re not dead! We had sex! The important stuff!” 

“I see you have your priorities together.” Her tone was snarky, but Mac caught her smile between sips of coffee. 

“If we didn’t have to go to work I’d bend you over the counter and tell you how hot you look in my shirt.” 

Mac impressed himself with how casually he managed to say that; he could only imagine Riley’s merciless teasing if his voice had cracked. 

Riley blushed, even as she cautiously said, “We could do that anyway.” 

The apprehension in her voice hit Mac like a bucket of cold water. He couldn’t just say things like that to his girlfriend of two days. Or maybe she was his best friend and he didn’t care. Mac couldn’t decide. This thing between them was so new, yet it felt like they’d been together forever. The butterflies lasted forty-eight hours, tops, before the calm sense of belonging, of home, washed over them. Mac had never had that happen so quickly in a relationship before. Usually it took weeks or even months, not two days. 

“It’s not like they’re going to know,” Riley added. 

That made the decision for him. “Are you kidding me? If we walk in late together, they’ll absolutely know why. They’re like professional mind readers! We’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Correction,” Riley said. “You’ll never hear the end of it. Desi and Bozer will just high five me and say, ‘Nice.’” 

Mac frowned. She was right, unfortunately. He finished the rest of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter last sip. Placing his mug in the sink, Mac said, “Seriously though, I want you to feel safe sharing with me when you feel like this, Riles.” He leaned against the sink. “Let me help you.” 

Riley crossed to him, finally closing the gap between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay,” she agreed, head resting on his shoulder. She sighed. “I really don’t want to go to work today, but if I get any more behind on that damn project I am going to pull my hair out.” 

Mac pressed a single kiss where her neck met her shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful. Please don’t pull it out.” Gently, he unwound Riley’s scrunchie, letting her hair tumble down her back so he could play with it. 

“Just for you.” 

They stood like that as long as they could, before they really did need to get ready for work. “I need to shower,” Mac finally said, ruining the quiet moment. “Care to join me?” 

Riley raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to be late.” 

A very serious shower,” Mac amended. “No funny business.” 

“Right.” Riley kissed him until Mac couldn’t hold back his grin. “No funny business. Now where have I heard that before?” 

Laughing, Mac dragged his girlfriend toward the bathroom. 

[yesmooshoe]

6) (i) from the AU list for ironhusbands? 👀💖

You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you.

“Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey! I need help!” Tony cried out as he burst through the front door of their drafty apartment.

Rhodey’s head shot up to look at him, but he didn’t move from the nest he’d created on their couch. He was wrapped in several blankets with a few large stacks of books and notebooks surrounding him. Mid-Terms started next week, and he had a lot of material to get through.

As Tony stumbled over some of Rhodey’s books on his way into the living room, he finally noticed all of the shopping bags that Tony was carrying.

“Did you get a haircut?” Rhodey asked, seeing that his friend’s usually unkempt hair was freshly trimmed and styled.

“Yeah, and I got a bunch of new clothes. I have a date! An actual date! And all of my clothes are trash and I’ve got no idea what to wear so I went to the mall and just like bought everything that looked cool because I just really want her to think I’m cool.” Tony rambled as he dropped the bags to the floor and started tearing through them.

“Wait, hold up. You have a what?”

“A date!” Tony said with a big smile.

“With who?” Rhodey asked as he closed his book, realizing that this was going to be a thing. Tony didn’t date. If he wasn’t at the apartment he was either at class or in the robotics lab, and he didn’t really have any other friends.

Until this year, at least. Tony was 17 and finally the same age as some of his fellow classmates, so Rhodey had noticed him being a bit more social. Still, Rhodey felt very protective, and while he’d never admit it out loud, he kind of missed having Tony all to himself.

“Uh, Amy Lin? She’s a freshman! And she’s on the robotics team and she’s just super cool and smart and we were sitting outside today and she was like 'hey do you want to go out sometime?' and I was like 'what do you mean, we're already outside.' and then she laughed and was like 'no like...go out. On a date.' and I just felt like such an idiot and I didn't know what to say but eventually I managed to say yes I think and well now we're going on a date! And I have no idea what to wear, you gotta help me. Everything I own is ripped or has burn holes from welding or is covered in grease and who knows what else and I just want to look good."

Rhodey resisted the urge to tell him that he'd look good in a paper bag, and did his best to swallow his own jealousy before he started helping him look through the bags.

The crush on Tony was very new. 

Two years ago Tony had just been this quiet, nerdy kid who didn't know how to do his own laundry and was afraid of his own shadow. This year though? This year he was just different. Over the Summer he'd grown a few more inches, gotten his braces off, discovered contact lenses, and overall just came off as more mature and confident. Rhodey's jaw had literally dropped when he saw him for the first time at the beginning of the semester, and ever since then he'd been struggling with a lot of feelings.

"Uhh, ok. Well first of all, where are you going?" Rhodey asked as he pulled out item after item, which ranged from a leather jacket to a tuxedo, so he wasn't sure what the vibe was going to be.

"Bowling."

Rhodey just laughed. "You bought a brand new tuxedo to go bowling? Is that what you rich white people do?"

"I...I mean, I don't know. She mentioned maybe getting dinner at one point and I think I just panicked like what if she wanted to go somewhere fancy instead of bowling and all of a sudden and I just started grabbing everything I could possibly need." Tony explained, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Dude, take a deep breath. It's going to be ok."

"I know I just...I want to do everything right. I want her to like me, ya know?"

"She will! She already does. She asked you out, didn't she?"

"Yeah but...I don't know. I don't know what to do. I'm just not used to this. People liking me. I’ve always been so much younger than everyone at school and no one ever talked to me and I always just feel like I missed out on learning how to be a normal teenager. I don’t know how to date." Tony admitted, being way more candid about his feelings than Rhodey was used to.

"You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just go out and have fun. Be yourself."

"I’m just afraid she’s going to see what a huge nerd I am and change her mind."

“You guys are on the robotics team. You’re both nerds. It’ll be fine.

“I just - 

“Tony.” Rhodey Interrupted. He hated when Tony got like this, and something in him just snapped. “Stop being so down on yourself. You’re funny and smart and sweet and you tell great stories and you’re so enthusiastic about your work and about learning new things so that you can change the world. You’re incredible. And I’m sorry that no one in your life has ever told you that before, but it’s all true and if she sees what I see then...then she’ll love you, ok?”

Tony was just staring at him like a deer in headlights, and Rhodey immediately knew that he’d said way too much. He just hated when Tony got like this, and he wanted him to just see how great he actually was. 

“Rhodey I…” Tony started, clearly unsure of what to say in response to that, and Rhodey’s stomach just dropped. Had he completely fucked this up? Had he made everything weird? There was nothing weird about telling your friend that you love him, right? Even if you did happen to have a huge crush on that friend? 

They were both silent for what felt like forever, though in reality it was only a few seconds.

“You’ll be fine. Anyway. So when is this date?”

Tony glanced down at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet her in 45 minutes.”

“Well, then we’d better get to work.” Rhodey said as he stood up and grabbed an armload of clothes.

They made quick work of it, just putting Tony in jeans, a red t-shirt, the leather jacket, and a fresh pair of Chuck Taylors. They were a little quiet at first, but soon they found their way back to the joking and teasing they were used to. As Tony stood in the hallway trying to fix his hair the way the lady at the hair salon had told him too, Rhodey just stood back and admired his work. There was nothing spectacular about the clothes, but they were new and clean and fit him well. And the leather jacket was driving Rhodey crazy. As he watched Tony from behind, he wanted nothing more than to grab him, pin him against the wall, and have his way with him.

There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do that, especially since he was literally about to leave to go on a date with someone else. With a girl.

“How do I look?” Tony asked, spinning around and giving him a big smile.

“Great.” Rhodey replied simply, resisting the urge to say hot. He didn’t want to make anything else weird.

Tony seemed unsure, but looked at his watch again and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, I gotta go. Thank you. For everything. Don’t study too hard, all right?” He said with a little smile before taking one more look at himself in the mirror and then heading out.

Rhodey tried to focus on studying after that, but he just couldn’t. He was jealous, he was embarrassed, and most of all he was horny. He took care of the latter problem a few minutes after Tony left, but after that he just laid on his bed and started at a crack in the ceiling while a million thoughts raced through his head.

This crush on Tony was stupid. Tony obviously wasn’t gay, right? And being gay in the Air Force sounded like a not-so-great idea anyway, so Rhodey really had to work on resisting these crushes if he ever wanted the chance to fly. Still, he couldn’t get that image of Tony in the leather jacket out of his mind, nor could he get over how jealous he felt. 

He figured that the best way to get over it was to distract himself, so he got up, took a cold shower, ate some dinner, and settled in back on the couch to watch TV and wait for Tony to get home. Despite the jealousy, he wanted to hear about the date and how it went. He just wanted Tony to be happy, and if dating Amy made him happy, then he’d do his best to be enthusiastic about it. At least on the surface.

Not long after Rhodey settled on the couch Tony came home and immediately plopped down next to him.

“Hey, you’re home early. How’d it go?” Rhodey asked, genuinely shocked that he was home. It hadn’t even been two hours, and he was just glad that he hadn’t decided to jerk off again.

“Yeah, it was fine. I mean, I had fun. We bowled and had some pizza and then sketched up an idea on a napkin for a bowling robot that we might try to build next week.” Tony said as he stared at the floor while fidgeting around with his zipper. “And then like, we were in the arcade part. Playing pinball. And she kissed me.”

“Well hey! That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know. It was weird. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone before so I’ve not got much to compare it too. But like, it was like kissing my sister. If I had a sister, I guess. I don’t know. Just didn’t do much for me.” Tony admitted quietly, and Rhodey had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Tony kept talking. “And then it was a little awkward and she said that she didn’t feel like bowling anymore so we turned in our shoes and then she said that she thought that maybe we should just be friends.”

“Oh. Well shit, that sucks man, I’m sorry. But this is only your first date, there are plenty of other girls out there! There’s even at least 1 more on the robotics team, right? I’m sure you’ll find someone that makes you feel that spark.” Rhodey said as he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He just didn’t want him getting too down on himself.

Tony just looked up at him and smiled, and it was a look that Rhodey would have to file away to use later. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s fine. She still wants to be friends, so that’s good. Friends are good. I’m gonna go change, ok?”

“Sure.”

Tony stood up to head to his room, but then stopped and hesitated for a moment.

“Tony? You all right?” Rhodey asked as Tony turned to look at him. He was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for what to say.

“Are you doing anything Friday night?” Tony finally asked.

“No.” Rhodey answered, confused.

“Do you - would you be interested in like - going out?”

“W-what?” Rhodey stuttered out as his heart started pounding. This wasn’t actually happening, was it?

“Go out? Like...on a date? I guess? Unless I read that whole situation earlier wrong.”

“I…” Rhodey just trailed off, completely taken by surprise by all of this. “Um. A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Uh...ok. Yeah. We can do that, if you’re sure.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sure. Been thinking about it all night.”

“Oh.”

“Ok, so. It’s a date, yeah? Dinner? Movie? I don’t know, that’s what people do, right?” Tony said as he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

“We’ll figure something out.”

Tony nodded again and turned to head to his room.

“Hey, Tony?” Rhodey called out after him, causing Tony to stop and turn to him. “Whatever we do, promise me you’ll wear the leather jacket.” Rhodey said with a confident little smile, finally regaining a bit of composure.

A huge grin spread across Tony’s face, like he was finally relaxing too. “All right.”

Rhodey was terrified, but also so excited that he couldn’t imagine focusing on his notes anymore. After Tony disappeared Rhodey ran straight to his room and to his closet, desperately looking through all of his clothing. Nothing seemed good enough, so he figured he’d have to take a trip to the mall himself tomorrow. He wasn’t sure he could look as good as Tony did in the leather, but he could certainly try.

[burnt-ghost-toast]

What Falls in Autumn

Percy Weasley x Reader

Summary: A family dinner doesn’t go as planned, and it’s become abundantly clear that topics of marriage and children should be banned from family conversations all together. 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: I see a Percy draft → I get tunnel vision and have to finish it. At one point I reference Harry talking about you (literally a 2 second mention, but it was going to bug me if I didn’t mention this), and that’s because he’s a professor at Hogwarts instead of a wizard cop. Let's be real, he needs a break and Hogwarts is where he belongs. Also assume every Percy fic I write goes out to @writersmacchiato <3

Autumn had brought with it a change in the air, leaves once rich with chlorophyll now fluttered down from trees crisp and red, forever changed by the natural course of life, and Percy sensed it wasn’t just his surroundings, he had changed too. 

The war ended a year ago, and he and you had been together for two. Before you, a stroll through the Burrow would have been out of the question. He'd be far too worried about wasting time, or too busy helping his mother, or doing homework until he could pass out late at night exhausted, but with a clear sense of productivity; signs that he was worth keeping around. With you, the burdens of life felt lighter somehow, he had nothing to prove and time was endless. He allowed himself to fall into your world, soft as the breeze that kissed his cheeks.

As he watched you dance around the path, pressing your feet to leaves to hear them give out a final crunch, he felt it again, the sensation of falling. Falling irrevocably in love with you. He paused, struck by the beauty of the situation, and the words fell from his lips, carried in the breeze, and caused you to turn to look at him.

“I love you, too,” you said with a smile you reserved for him and these moments of pure perfection. 

Merlin, he could have married you right there.

---------

Dinner in the Burrow also felt like falling, except it was the painful and annoying kind. Every Weasley who was a part of the immediate family, as well as you, Harry, and Hermione, had managed to make the journey for the holidays. All of you sat comfortably around the dining table enjoying the meal Molly had put together. 

“It’s so good to have you all here. Our family just keeps expanding and it is wonderful to have everyone all together again, we surely don’t do this enough now that you’re all so grown.” Molly smiled, “and speaking of expanding,” she smiled then wagged a finger at Percy, who sat beside you with a hand on your thigh, then you in turn, “still waiting for you two to get married. Bill’s already tied the knot, heaven knows what Charlie’s planning, and you wouldn’t want your younger siblings getting married before you, would you?” Molly prodded. Charlie had given out a small grumble in protest, but went ignored by his mother, who was determined to get answers, “Any idea when we’ll be having a wedding, Percy? I mean,” she turned to face you, “aren’t you ready to start a family?”

You almost choked, and quickly covered your mouth to recover, before shaking your head.

“Oh, heavens no, Molly! I mean,” You turned to Percy, placing a hand on his forearm, “I love you, dear, but” turning back to Molly, “now isn’t the best time to get married. Percy’s so busy at the Ministry and I have no intentions of giving up my job to raise children. I deal with enough of them at Hogwarts,” you chucked and continued to eat, unaware of the shock from Molly and Percy.

“I’m not that busy at the Ministry, and honestly, I’m sure Hogwarts would be fine without you. How hard is it to find someone to teach students how to brew potions?” 

Forks scrapped across a few plates, and a faint ‘oh now you’ve done it’ was heard from George across from you.

“Excuse me? So, my job, where I teach children, something you apparently want now, how two drops of flobberworm mucus, one measure of standard herb ingredients and aconite, and a squill bulb stirred over medium heat could cure common ailments and literally save lives, doesn’t need me because I’m easily replaceable? Is this the stance you are taking right now, really? I’m that useless?” You hadn’t meant to get so aggressive, but you had dedicated much of your adolescent years to becoming the skilled potioneer you were today. Many around this table knew of your struggles during your time at Hogwarts while attempting to learn what you could from a professor who handed out insults like they were candy on Halloween.

“Of course not, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. All I’m saying is that there are plenty of other capable adults who can handle teaching potions.” Percy scoffed. 

“You know what, let’s do this later.” You finished, taking in the staring eyes from around the table and believing it best to end the conversation.

“Really? It was just starting to get interesting.” George jest, soon receiving a slap to the arm from Molly, who sat next to him. “Sorry.” he said, having the decency to look a little sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” You responded.

“Oh, so implying it’s mine.” Percy said off-handedly, but it was enough. You stood abruptly from the table and walked upstairs, unable to deal with Percy or address his family.

The table was quiet, and no one wanted to make the first move, but someone had to, and who better than George?

“Great going Perc, really piling on the reasons they should marry you.” 

Molly waved her hands dismissively, “come now, I’m sure they’ll come around. If I can raise all of you, then I’m sure they will do fine with two or three little ones running around.”

“Mum, I don’t think that’s what Percy should be taking away from this.” George responds and Charlie nods, but keeps quiet beyond that, not wanting to take sides, despite clearly taking sides in Percy’s mind.

Percy was embarrassed and annoyed, and was not beyond starting a larger, petty argument. So, he did, “And what do you two know about my partner?” He pointed an accusatory finger at his brothers. 

Charlie threw his hands up, “nothing, it’s just if I had to choose between marriage or dragons, I would choose dragons. A job can be very fulfilling.” 

“And last time I checked, your partner just stormed away upset and instead of talking to them you’re picking fights with us, so how much do you know?” George sassed.

Percy was ready to let George have it, but the realization hit him harder than a bludger to the chest, which coincidentally, George had hit him with before. Maybe his brother had a point. In fact, what kind of husband would Percy be if he couldn’t even handle a disagreement between the two of you? 

“You’re... right.” Percy conceded, standing from the table, “I need to talk to them, please excuse me.” And with that he was hurrying up to his old room. 

You were seated by the window taking in the sight that had you smiling only hours ago. The door opening caught your attention, but at seeing who entered, you turned away once again. Percy sat across from you and fiddled with his hands. You refrained from reaching out to steady them, refusing to give in so easily. Admitting his faults had never been a strong suit, used to being perfect, or at least, trying to be perfect. This wasn’t the first time he had been wrong and had to apologize, but it didn’t make the second step any easier. 

“I was an idiot.” He said, releasing a breath and steadying his hands against his thighs, “you’re great at your job, in fact, I often talk to Ron about you while at work. He says that Harry says your teaching would put Sn—”

“I don’t want to give it up.” You interjected, while still looking out the window. 

“And I don’t expect you to.”

“I’m good at it. Really good,” you gave a soft laugh before feeling your face drop again, “and I don’t know how to raise kids. I don’t want them to have the childhood I had.” 

Percy is quiet for a moment. He remembers your time together at Hogwarts. How you would meet him at platform 9 ¾ alone after first year, cry when the school year was coming to an end because you dreaded home more than Snape’s pop quizzes, and spend the Christmas break at the castle every year until he finally invited you to spend it with his family; and that first Christmas with you in fifth year had been the best one of his life. Every moment spent with you usually topped the last. And now he had the audacity to question your feelings? 

Percy reached out to hold your hand and placed his free hand on your face. “I know you’d make a great parent because you already make a great partner. You challenge me and support me and-and you make me a better person.” Percy took a shaky breath; everything was rushing to his head and heart. He wanted to give you the world, but for now he would start with a few words. “We don’t need to get married or have children. I love you and want to spend my life with you, no matter the conditions.”

You were teary eyed, and Percy wasn’t doing much better. He felt it again, the shift in the breeze and feeling of falling, he could see you felt it to, and without hesitation you both gave into it. Your lips brushed against each other’s slowly, ‘I love you’s’ finding their way out in whispers between kisses. The whole world was muted beyond each other’s touch. 

And this is how you wanted to feel until death do you part.