#also going to have to throw a monster john fic in there

[primewritessmut]

i know i haven't finished posting all of he speaks daggers but man am i champing at the bit for my wips to move up the assembly line (yes, i view myself as a story factory, mind your fucking business)

some of my favorites in the works:

-- modern lokius au where mobius is a bartender in the bar where loki takes all his (disastrous) first days; it's some real rom-com shit and i am ready to get back to my roots

-- the cat loki au, i have no idea where it's going but i am going to solve it like a rubik’s cube

-- a groundhog's day/time fuckery au for the symbrock boys; i have not given eddie angst in over six months, it's time

[shanastoryteller]

so, you've been posting/reblogging about sam being the exception to the rules of "This is alright to do when everyone else does it/ It's not alright to do but we can do it to sam". Do you have any fanfic recs that throw that hat around? Like, they realize they were actually in the wrong? or some good fix it? some bad break it?

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

honestly not this fandom's strong suit. probably the most self indulgent part of see something say something is having dean accept that sam going to stanford wasn't a personal attack, was something he needed to do for himself, and the no contact trauma of it all was pretty much entirely john's fault. in canon he's literally betrayed by sam going to college until he DIES. he never chills or gives credit to the idea that sam deserved and needed space to grow outside of him

there are a couple "sam dies in the panic room" fics floating around out there, which are pretty good, but relatively short and sort of only deal with the immediate regret that dean feels because his brother is dead and not really because he understands how he fucked up

here are some that sort of qualify, but nothing that quite scratches the id for this in the exact way i'd like. unfortunately i think to really dig into this (for me) you've got to hit "sam was both saved and destroyed by dean's deal" and "dean came back wrong" right over the head before you can really deal with the repercussions of it. which is both hard and sort of an unpopular opinion! so i get it

feel free to drop your own recs if you have them!

Crossed Wires by rivkat (summary: A spnj2xmas gift for costsofregret, who liked angst, pining!Sam, one thinking the other is dead, and hurt/comfort. It’s like you know me.) sort of deals with the concept of sam's autonomy but it's pretty brief.

One Saved Message by ratherastory (summary: After a hunting accident puts Sam out of commission for a couple of days, Dean decides to surprise his brother with a new phone, since his old one is toast. Even better is when he finds that he’s been able to save all of Sam’s old information and restore it to his cell. That’s when he discovers an old voicemail that Sam has kept saved for the last two and a half years… Charity fic for help_japan. sinka won a fic from me and requested some Voicemail fix-it fic, and that is what I have attempted here. Spoilers for all aired episodes up to 6.19.) deals with the voicemail but not really all the actions dean took to make that voicemail believable

Paint Me a Monster by TheMarvelousTolkienJob (summary: Sam is a freak. He knows that and, after everything that happened with Ruby and the demon blood, Dean finally does too. Not that they actually talk about it or anything. No, they wait around for Sam to be kidnapped and tortured before they do that.) is a fic focused on all of this and it addresses the voicemail and the reasons the voicemail was believable but it doesn't end with anything so much resolved as it is at least in the open air. which is a perfectly good ending, i just want closure T_T

The Talking Cure by Mollyamory (Molly) (summary: Dean tries to keep his mouth shut, but as much as he wants to keep quiet, he also wants to say--) set immediately after season 8 with no gadreel. dean feels the need to reiterate what he said in the church

Soft Like a Blue Triceratops by sprinkles888 (summary: Sam finishes the trials, expecting to die. Instead, he gets a life that sounds idyllic - the demons locked away, the angels gone (mostly), and Dean by his side. All he has to worry about is the various monsters attempting to fill the power vacuum; a too-empty bunker; his own deteriorating mental health; Dean’s dive back into alcoholism; and not getting enough sleep (even for him). Oh yeah, and that pesky fact that his dreams are starting to seem a little bit too much like visions. He can handle it. He can. (Sometimes he can’t.) If this is healing, Sam sure doesn’t want to know what deterioration looks like. A season eight finale/post-season 8 AU) is probably the closest i've found that really comes down to grilling both on how messed up the brothers are and how it's taking a toll on sam specifically, but it doesn't really get into the double standards of it all. bold for emphasis is mine, because my god that's really the whole fic. great exploration of them, but it did hurt to read

not at all in the vein of the ask, but by the same author Sounds Like Truth and Feels Like Courage by sprinkles888 (summary: Turns out that the Men of Letters had a way to perform magic on the regular without the messiness of witchcraft. All they need for it is a pair of soulmates, a couple of rings from the bunker, and a willingness to spend time platonically touching. And, well, the Winchesters are already sitting at two out of three… (In which Sam and Dean cuddle, spend time being emotionally vulnerable, mend relationships, learn just how powerful their souls are, find power in memories, watch way too much Netflix, and become targets of an organized group of monsters set on killing them.)) is a comfy warm fic about the boys by the same author that i can reread without hurting my own feelings

[rad0nwrites]

Good morning.

Fueled by my most recent DND game and thinking in depth about characters, Ive been seeing a lot of “Soap With A Death Wish” on the timeline recently and I have thoughts

Soap being a demolitions expert is such a great occupation for him literally, but also characteristically.

It shows in the way that he talks, thinks, how he views situations, in his temperament in tense situations, and Neil really embodies the idea that Soap is equally just as much a bomb as the ones he builds or diffuses. [take a look at one game so far from the MW Reboot and tell me that TF 141 aren’t on the verge of straight up crashing out at any given moment.]

I like to think that Soap is a demolitions expert for the adrenaline high that comes with it. Being in the front lines, face to face with a monster that’s threatening to go off at any moment, working under pressure to cut the wire. There’s a morbid love for the adrenaline high of the risk he’s playing dice with.

I cannot remember where the post is, but I really like the idea that Soap has some MAJOR imposter syndrome being a part of the 141, despite literally being hand picked by John for the team. I also like the other idea that Soap enlisted to escape a bad situation.

He goes into the army thinking that he’s the only person he’s got, and no one would really mourn him if he was killed [ouch. Pretend MW3 doesn’t exist for a second.]

My favorite animal personally is a character with dog-like loyalty because it has so much potential to be a double edged sword. That’s why I think Soap finds it easy to throw himself onto the frontlines without much thought for his teammates and anyone he’d consider an ally. That is, until he’s apart of the 141.

John, Simon, and Kyle won’t allow Johnny to jump into risky behavior as easily as he did before, and it frustrates him. It frustrates him because there’s a part of him that can’t wrap his head around the idea that someone cares.

He considers these three men to be his brothers after his blood family, but humans are contradictory in nature. This is his morbid way of showing love, so why won’t they let him do what he needs to do?

John, Simon, and Kyle do there absolute best to remind Johnny physically and verbally that he’s wanted and loved and cared about, but you can only lead a horse to the water. You can’t force it to drink.

Johnny’s friends hold out a quiet hope that he finds himself a partner. Someone who’s more than a one night stand so that maybe, just maybe, he’ll experience a love from an outside perspective to realize that he IS loved, and wanted, and cared about. [there’s much potential for many ship pairings here. Or even an x Reader pairing]

Whether he chooses to chase that risk is up to him.

Either way, I’m a big big fan of Soap With A Death Wish, because it makes for a great Venn diagram with ADHD!Soap and even Slut!Johnny on my digital cork board.

There’s definitely going to be a fic about this later.

[ananxiousgenz]

HEY YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS????? JARTHUR COWBOY AU TIME!!!!!

this one also comes with a bit of info for the beginning:

@percymawce-arts and I have finally given this monster child of ours a name!! from here on out, this fic shall be known as "When the Land was Godless and Free" (a lyric from the song foreigner's god by hozier)!

the chapters we are posting are like. severely out of order. we've just been going crazy behind the scenes (we keep getting good ideas and then discussing/writing them for literal hours, it's a great time). percy basically wrote all of this and i just did some minor edits and left all caps comments screaming about how fucking GOOD this is, so any and all compliments should be directed at him <3

and some trigger warnings: this chapter contains alcohol and some suggestive themes!!

@izel-reblogs and @ellamenop (if you guys want me to stop tagging you please lmk)

“Here’s to John and Arthur! Arthur and John!” Noel shouted, stepping up onto the bar and raising his beer, some of it sloshing over the side of the cup with the motion. “Freaky-ass, sharpshooting, vigilante crime-fighting extraordinaires! Without you two, those gangsters would still be shooting up this charming little town.” He flashed a wink and a gaggle of girls seated behind John giggled. John rolled his eyes. “To John and Arthur!”

“To John and Arthur!” the bar echoed, jovial sounds of conversation and rowdy drinking soon filling the space again. John smiled into his drink, only to choke and nearly fall out of his chair when Noel clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Get ready for a lot of free drinks,” he said, hopping down to the floor. “This town’s full of generous rich folks just waiting for a chance to throw some money around.” 

John groaned. “Does that mean I have to talk to people?”

“I’m afraid so, darlin’,” Noel said, all easy charm and swagger as he leaned up against the bar next to John. “Uh oh. Don’t look now, but there’s one coming up behind you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” John swore under his breath as a young blonde woman in a pink (and startlingly revealing) dress came up to the bar beside him. “That was fast,” he whispered to Noel, who barely managed to hide a snigger.

“Hi!” the woman squealed, her pitch akin to metal nails on glass. John winced. Voice aside, her general disposition was the near equivalent to staring straight into the afternoon sun, and the neon pink of her dress didn’t help matters.

“Can I buy you a drink, cowboy?” she crooned, gently brushing a hand over his shoulder as she smiled far too brightly (the whole blind sharpshooter gig tended to work better when only one of them was blind). 

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh, I don’t-”

“It’s on the house for you, sweetheart. I’ll pay for everything, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. So, how about that drink?” She moved in closer beside him, her hand drifting up his neck and along his jawline. John was only beginning to think of how to politely decline when he felt a looming presence over his shoulder.

“Only if you buy for all of us,” Arthur said, not unkindly. But John had been traveling with him for long enough to recognize the hint of something else beneath the politeness. Not what it was, just that it was there. The woman giggled.

“Well, of course! Anything for our dashing heroes!” John glanced over his shoulder at Arthur. His face was set in stone, watching the woman like a hawk on a rabbit as she slipped a few coins into the bartender’s hand and waited for drinks in return. He looked… tense. Like he was a piece of rope, stretched to the verge of snapping, and if that annoying woman made one wrong move, he would.

Noel raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “You must be a real hit with the ladies,” he murmured into his glass, looking Arthur up and down as he did so. Arthur paid him no mind.

The sunshine woman was not the last to buy them a round of drinks, not by a long shot. Plenty of flirtatious ladies (and a few flirtatious men), thankful patrons and impressed watchmen approached them, hoping to show their gratitude by buying them a shot or a glass of whiskey. Arthur didn’t leave John’s side the whole night, quick to shut down any attempts at seduction by feigning ignorance to the intentions of anyone who approached them. But John knew better. John could see the hard set of his jaw, how he gripped his glass too tightly whenever a scantily clad lady twirled her hair around her finger, or a rambunctious young cowboy leaned too far into John’s personal space. It made John’s heart flutter wildly in his chest. 

The drinks only slowed as the saloon emptied out, leaving Noel, Arthur and John three sheets to the wind, laughing uproariously at something stupid as the morning sun came over the horizon (Oscar had retired hours before, drunker than anyone at the bar much, much faster. Arthur had squeezed his shoulder and bid him goodnight with an expression of concern that made John’s heart clench).

Noel wiped tears from his eyes and looked over John’s shoulder, out the window behind him. When he saw the beginnings of daylight creeping over the horizon, he sighed. (He watched them, Arthur and John, engaged in a quiet but passionate discussion about something he couldn’t parse. They were both flushed and leaning in too close, chuckling at every other word that passed between them, oblivious to the rising sun or the empty saloon or Noel’s hands on their arms, steering them towards their room at the inn upstairs).

John chuckled (he did not giggle, he chuckled) as Noel tossed him into their rented room, with Arthur following soon after. He tripped over a trunk near the foot of the bed on his way in, falling forward onto the mattress with a gentle oof. Arthur laughed at him much too loudly for whatever time it was. 

“Alright, you two,” Noel said, trying to hold back a laugh, “wash up and go to bed. God, I should’ve never given that toast, you’re both insufferable drunks.”

“Oh, shhhhhhh,” Arthur hushed, pulling John out of bed by his wrist. John leaned fully against Arthur in an effort to stay upright. It mostly worked. “You loooooove us,” he laughed. Noel smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes but unable to keep the fond expression off his face. “You keep telling yourselves that.” He wiped his nose and tipped his hat to them. “Goodnight, you two.” Then he closed the door, and it was just them. John and Arthur, Arthur and John. 

“Okay, come on,” John said after a long stretch of silence, inelegantly turning Arthur in the direction of their shared washbasin and mirror. Arthur giggled a bit as John tried to move him forward, mumbling some drinking song under his breath that John didn’t recognize (maybe it’s a British one, John thought lamely). They tripped over each other's feet a few times, but ultimately made it to the edge of the sink without completely falling over. 

When they did, John braced his hands on either side of it with a tired sigh, watching his reflection in the mirror. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead and a flush to his cheeks from the alcohol, but otherwise he seemed in decent condition. A few cuts and scrapes, some new and some old, and his braid was a little out of sorts, but nothing really concerning–

Then all the haziness of the alcohol and the late night was gone because Arthur’s full weight was at his back, his warmth permeating the fabric of John’s shirt and vest. His hot breath fanned across John’s ear and jaw, his eyes fluttering closed with the weight of inebriation. John inhaled shakily, suddenly brought back to shifting bodies and whiskey and fireworks with such vivid clarity it could have been real.

But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. John was drunk. Arthur was drunk, he could barely stand up straight, for fucks sake. He was just using John for support, falling asleep on his shoulder, and… 

And pressing his nose behind John’s ear, ghosting his lips over the back of his jaw. Breathing his name with a pained expression. John’s own expression matched, half lidded eyes never leaving the mirror, tense and pained and wanting, oh-so deeply, for the one thing he knew he couldn’t have.

Despite himself, John’s eyes slipped closed. His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving his body as Arthur hands came up to rest on his hips. His head tilted, granting Arthur access to more of his jaw and neck. And Arthur took it. He didn’t kiss, but he skimmed. Barely there, almost not real, deniable. Like a spirit. Like a gut feeling. Like instinct.

“John…” Arthur breathed. John felt a shiver work its way down his spine at the sound of Arthur’s voice at the base of his skull, reverberating in his head like it was meant to be there. It took every ounce of will that John had to keep the small moan building in the base of his throat from escaping.

“Arthur,” he answered, voice hoarse and quiet. He wanted to open his eyes. Wanted to see himself in the mirror with Arthur over his shoulder, arms around him, nosing at his neck and shoulder, resisting the urge to press warm kisses into his skin. Or maybe to bite. To draw blood. John had never been shown a difference between violence and love. Maybe they weren’t so different. He hoped so. He wanted… 

He wanted to see the look on Arthur’s face. Would it be like it was that day in the cabin? Shocked and a little confused but mostly needy. Yearning for something. Yearning for John. Or would it be darker? Dark like the clouds before a storm, the kind of storm that drowned you with rain and filled the air with electricity. Would it be dark like he was holding back? Like John was? 

But John didn’t open his eyes, no matter how badly he wanted to know. If his eyes stayed closed, he could pretend Arthur’s gentle, delicate touch wasn’t there at all. Just a taste of something more, enough to leave John wanting. Enough for him to imagine. Enough for it to stay a pleasant, alcohol induced dream. If he opened his eyes it would be real, and it would have to stop. And John did not want it to stop.

“John,” Arthur murmured, his voice just above a whisper now. “Open your eyes.” The timbre of it was deep, so much deeper than John had heard it before. How could he have possibly known? How could he know John so well in so little time? So completely? The moan John was holding on to finally slipped past his lips when Arthurs grip on his waist tightened, ever so slightly. “John,” Arthur choked. 

“I can’t,” John whispered as Arthur’s fingers moved from his hips, leaving a burning heat behind in the shape of Arthur’s palm. They trailed up and up, tugging at the buttons of John’s shirt as they went, making his breath hitch. Up to his open collar, nails dragging across John’s collar bone and hollow of his throat. Until they wrapped ever so gently around his neck, the thumb coming up to guide John’s jaw this way and that. John was breathing hard, now.

“Why?” Arthur asked, pressing himself closer, still, to John. John whined.

“I…” I want to. God, I want to. Make me. “Please, Arthur, don’t make me. Please, just–”

John gasped when he felt Arthur’s teeth scrape lightly over the skin of his neck, his hand flying up to grip Arthur’s hair, his shoulder, something. To hold Arthur. But he was stopped by a strong grip on his wrist, which guided his hand back down to the edge of the sink, holding it there. Pinning it. 

“John,” Arthur whispered. John’s chest was rising and falling like Akke’s after a long sprint, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s. Arthur’s thumb caressed his knuckles, white with the strength of his grip on the sink.

“Please,” they said at the same time. John’s brow furrowed, his lips hung parted in anticipation. His mind swung wildly from the present, between Arthur and the mirror with a hand around his throat, to the cabin, pressing Arthur to the wooden floor, pinning his wrists above his head. The burning momentum between them suddenly halted by John’s fear, like a landslide on the track before a train. Now the train was out of control again, brakes screeching against wheels that just wouldn’t stop, sparks flying. Sparks like fireworks. Sparks like live wires. Sparks like exploding gunpowder.

But then the warmth at his back was gone. Along with it the hand at his throat and the one  pinning his own to the sink. The teeth at the junction of his neck and shoulder and the hot breath on his skin vanished, leaving only a stark coldness where they’d been before. John sighed, whether in relief or disappointment he didn’t know, and opened his eyes.

The flush on his face had migrated down his neck and chest, which was exposed now (when had Arthur done that?) and heaving. The ‘light sheen’ of sweat was beading at his temples and brow now, falling in drops down to his jaw, along the bridge of his nose. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide and his neck was bare. 

And Arthur, leaning drunkenly against the wall behind him, arms crossed, expression chilly. He was breathing heavily too, and his face was red like the first hints of daylight in the sky. But it was the hard set of his mouth and brow that made John shiver.

“We should go to bed, John,” he said, voice still raspy. A needy, sad little sound rose from John’s throat then, and John’s hand flew to his mouth, as if to force the offending sound back in. Arthur swallowed and turned, ready to head back to one of the twin beds awaiting them. Side by side and yet still miles apart. “And don’t worry.”

“It’ll all feel like a dream, tomorrow.”

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Prompt: Riches To Rags| Word Count: 2987 | Rating: G | POV: Eddie, OC (dog) | Relationships: Steve / Eddie | CW: Neglected dog | Tags: dog fic, corroded coffin boys trying to make it, dognapping

this is a prompt fill for @corrodedcoffinfest

Thank you @fkinkindagauche for the beta <3 and also my partner (who is not on Tumblr) for telling me with great courage to rewrite my first draft of this fic :'D Go check out their fic Queerest of the Queer! For reasons! Many of them! +_+ @talanashta once told me that the first impressions they had of me were: 1. I love my dog 2. I hate golf and I think that's like top ten in the nicest thing anyone's said to me <3 I hope that comes through in this fic.

ao3 link

Not A Dog Person

There is a creature.

The creature looks vaguely like human, like JON, like WALKER, like TRAINER, but its walk is too fluid, and its skin is too fuzzy, and its head hair is the wrong shape, and it smells wrong. There's an underlayer of wrongness that's almost decay but not quite that NOTNOWBELLA can't figure out and if there's anything NOTNOWBELLA hates, it's mysterious creatures threatening her JON (and the mailmen and the VET and WAIT and LEEVIT).

NOTNOWBELLA growls and moves to get in front of JON and new human friends so she can protect them from the creature.

"sta;lkwejraoijsadlkjwoeirjaowiejrlsdjrlwker NOTNOWBELLA welrkjaoiejrowie," JON says as he roughly pushes her away. NOTNOWBELLA yelps, more out of hurt feelings (though the foot on her hip really does actually hurt).

The creature just stands there too still. Too calm. They stare at one another, predator to predator, though it won't even do NOTNOWBELLA the courtesy of snarling back. Then there's a rope getting wrapped around NOTNOWBELLA's throat and she howls the entire time JON drags her outside.

-----

"You sure that dog's not about to jump you?" Doug asks, frowning. "We should go back inside."

"I can throw her off," Eddie says. Gareth gasps and glares at him, scandalized. "Gently!" Eddie adds with a huff, "I can throw her off gently. You've seen my reflexes."

Gareth rolls his eyes. "You managed to do that tablecloth trick one time and now you think—"

"You know what? One of these days I'm going to bring the whole Upside Down monster stuff back so you can see me in action," Eddie says, cutting him off. "Steve told you."

"Steve is so whipped, he'd say you built an entire house if you fix a window once," Jeff points out, "but ok, thanks for braving a dogfight so we can take breaks outside I guess. That house wigs me out."

"Right? I'd rather get mauled by the dog then have to spend even one more minute than necessary in that McMansion," Eddie declares, "besides, she's just… being menacing."

The dog in question, Bella, is circling slowly, head lowered, teeth bared. Eddie's not a dog person, but even he can see that she's beautiful. She looks unreal, like the idea of the perfect husky. Her pointed ears stand tall and fluffy and proud. She has a slick body with silvery fur that shimmers under the hot Chicago sunlight. Her eyes are bright blue and lined with slightly darker silvery fur that makes it look like she's wearing eyeliner. She moves fluidly, graceful and prepared even under the brutal summer heat. Even if John hadn't lectured them at length about how expensive she was, how she descended from a champion bloodline, anyone would have been able to see at a glance that this dog is something special.

And that really sucks for Eddie, who died then came back as some sort of cat-seal-demo-creature-hybrid. The many NDAs he was forced to sign included not letting the public find out that he came back as a monster after getting killed by hell beasts the US government unleashed upon Hawkins.

Most normal dogs take one sniff at Eddie and bolt, not fooled by the gloves he wears to hide his claws and the cover story he uses to explain the skin colored fuzz that grows all over his body. But this is no normal dog. This dog is ready to throw down. Eddie's reasonably sure that he could take a single husky (he's taken on dozens of demo dogs. A husky has got to be weaker) but he doesn't want to actually drop-kick a dog, especially when said dog belongs to an obnoxiously wealthy fan that's letting the band use his private recording studio in his fuck-off huge McMansion.

"Maybe we should offer her some treats?" Doug offers.

"The lady warrior would not betray her station for bribes Doug," Eddie says, crossing his hand over his chest in mock affront.

"We could try it," Jeff offers after he's done laughing. "My sister's dog loves this freeze-dried chicken stuff. Maybe she'd like that?"

"Have you seen the shit John puts out for her?" Gareth says. "She'd turn her nose up at just normal chicken. She gets that fancy… raw wet food shit."

"I mean, it's not like you've eaten dog food. Maybe the expensive shit sucks ass and she's secretly yearning for street urchin garbage…"

---

"Eddie. Stop monopolizing the fucking oven," Steve grumbles.

"Yeah! And why are you fucking… putting fish in the oven? It's going to reek!" Robin squawks.

Steve gestures wildly in Robin's direction in agreement, eyes wide. Eddie loves them both. But he wonders, for the dozenth time, if he should have gone with the boys instead of these two idiots that gang up on him all the time (except when he and Robin gang up on Steve or when he and Steve gang up on Robin, but anyway).

"I'm trying to win a noble lady's heart," Eddie says loftily.

"Are you still harping on that dog?" Robin says, cackling. "Didn't you say just last week that it's a terrible monster dog and you're done with her?"

"Well yes," Eddie admits, "but Doug heard from his cousin who has a friend whose friend is a dog trainer and apparently some dogs will go fucking nuts over dried fish so," he gestures at the oven, "here we are."

"I think that dog just hates you because you're different," Steve says wisely, "and you said yourself. You can't win 'em all."

"But I have to work in the same house as this dog and I'd like to at least be civil," Eddie whines.

Steve shrugs. "Have you tried playing with it?"

"What part of 'this dog won't stop circling and glaring at me like I flayed its entire family' made you think this dog is going to play with me big boy?" Eddie scoffs.

"I mean, it's hating on you because it thinks you're dangerous right?" Steve muses, "and it's a working dog. So it's probably more play motivated than food motivated. If you show that you can play with other people, that's going to go over better than you trying to bribe it with food."

Eddie stares, eyes wide. "Since when do you know about dogs?"

"I, uh," Steve turns his gaze down to the floor. "You seemed really sad about that dog so I got Dustin to help me do some research."

"You read stuff for me?" Eddie whispers, staggering over to his beloved. "But you said reading makes your migraines worse."

"I mean it wasn't that bad, and Dustin helped me with some—" Steve trails off in a moan as Eddie clamps his lips around his gorgeous, helpful, genius boyfriend's neck.

"Ok, I am outta here. Good bye dingus and dongus. Clean the fucking couch this time!" Robin exits before Eddie has time to give her the finger.

----

"Is she looking?" Eddie yells out.

"Yeah! She's looking!" Gareth yells back as he makes another terrible toss. Eddie has to dart about fifty feet or so to catch it. This is torture. He can't believe he's playing fetch in this heat with these losers who can't aim for shit for a dog he doesn't even like. He can't even look at the dog, since, according to Steve, eye contact implies aggression and dominance. Doug whoops as Eddie makes another impossible catch. Honestly, Eddie's starting to think that maybe Gareth is throwing badly on purpose.

Gareth winds up and makes another throw.

"Shit!" Jeff screams.

"Wha—" Eddie doesn't have time to ask before he has to duck. The dog, Bella, passes over him. Eddie hears a loud snap as her jaw closes over the ball she intercepted. She lands gracefully and looks at him, mouth open in a cheeky grin.

Oh shit. Here it is. A window. A moment. Eddie turns completely around so he's not facing the dog and slowly sits down, hands outstretched. "Can I have the ball?" he asks.

Behind him, he hears panting, but not the sound of a dog getting closer.

"She spit it out!" Gareth yells.

"What?"

"She spit it out on the ground," Jeff says more helpfully, "you're gonna have to go get it!"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Eddie grumbles as he turns around. Bella sits next to the ball, tongue lolling out, eyes crazed. She tracks his movement as he crawls gingerly towards the ball, careful not to make any sudden movement. She lets him grab the ball then wind up to throw…

Then she's off, chasing, barking joyfully as Eddie sends the ball flying. She leaps, flies even, about four to five feet to snatch the ball out of midair. Then she stands in place, ears up, eyes proud, tail wagging, before she yips and takes off with the toy. Eddie chases, and the boys whoop and holler as they sit back to watch Bella play keep away with Eddie.

------

Eddie didn't expect to keep playing with this dog after he got her to stop treating him like a bomb about to go off. But she's persistent. There's only so much hopeful nudging he can ignore before he has to give in and play chase with her. And it's been strangely helpful for their music too. Eddie actually focuses better after a long run around this mansion's unreasonably large and unused grounds with Bella. The lyrics are coming along. The beats are beating. Having an entire recording studio to themselves helps quite a bit too, and the album is really starting to come together.

The album coming together this smoothly, this well, should be a good thing. He should be ecstatic. All of them should be. But the album nearly coming to a close also means…

"I'm gonna miss that dog," Gareth says sadly, as they scroll through the gigabytes of photos he'd amassed of Bella's highlights (and Eddie's lowlights as he likes to call them).

"You think John might let us borrow the studio again?" Jeff asks.

"He would, but he's going to charge a percentage of royalties again," Doug says darkly, "probably more this time, if the album does well."

"He's charging us?" Eddie sputters. "He said he's a fan!"

"Well yeah, that's why he didn't charge us upfront," Jeff points out.

"He wasn't even using it!"

"That's rich people for you," Gareth sighs out, "and I'm pretty sure we got a shit deal too. I told Nancy about the royalties and she nearly had an aneurysm."

"Shit," Eddie sighs, "does that mean we're not gonna use his studio for the next album?"

"Not if you want to make money, no," Gareth says with a grimace. He clicks his tongue the way he does when he has a terrible idea. "What if we buy her?"

"She cost five gazillion dollars," Eddie says miserably.

"You already checked?" Jeff asks, surprised, "I thought you don't like dogs."

"Well no, I don't," Eddie says feebly, "and I wasn't going to buy her, but I was kinda curious since John's never around." He kicks out his feet, overcome with anger and resentment that he can't quite figure out the source of. "But apparently she has like a modeling deal or something and she cost a fuck ton of money to buy in the first place, so John's planning to keep her around."

"Besides," Eddie continues as he gestures around the tiny apartment he shares with Robin and Steve, "your place is even smaller than this. Where would we put her?"

"She's not that big—" Doug objects.

"She's got a whole air conditioned dog house with orthopedic beds that's the size of two of our living rooms put together," Eddie says darkly. "She's better off where she is."

"But you—"

"Do not have time for a fucking monster diva dog and that's final," Eddie snaps, cutting Gareth off.

------

"What's your problem?" Chrissy comments as she takes a delicate sip of her chamomile tea.

"Excuse you?" Eddie asks.

"You've let me drink my calming tea in silence for the past fifteen minutes without annoying me once," Chrissy points out. "Normally, I'd worry that maybe I've upset you. But Robin's finally convinced me that I'm a delight. So," she sets her cup down. "What's your problem?"

Eddie scoffs and sinks down lower in his seat, feeling like a teenager again.

"Let me guess," Chrissy says with a quirked brow, "it's about that dog isn't it?"

"Why is everyone so obsessed with this fucking dog?" Eddie grumbles. "She nearly shattered my ear drums just the other week."

Chrissy rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her tea. Despite his dark mood, Eddie feels that familiar jolt of joy and relief that Chrissy is here. Sure, she came back wrong, just like him. Deep grooves (that people somehow believe are scars) run down her face and body because she's really more a collection of vines holding a humanoid shape than she is a person. But she's here, back from the dead, casually sipping down some calming tea while giving him a hard time.

Chrissy leans forward and reaches a hand out to rub a thumb over the top of Eddie's hand. Eddie watches as she slowly unfurls her fingers, as she allows the vines of her body to flow free, to spread over the table and sway. Freakish. Strange. Beautiful.

"You know I'm training to be a marine biologist right?" Chrissy says as she continues her display.

"Yes?" Eddie asks, confused. "Where is this going?"

"John doesn't deserve her," Chrissy says, "we should steal her."

"Are you hearing yourself?" Eddie sputters. "That asshole is a fucking millionaire! He'll dice us!"

"If he finds out," Chrissy says. "I can remove the microchip once we get her."

It's a terrible, stupid idea. He's already asked John about buying Bella. He'd be the first person John suspects. But, but, Eddie's pretty sure John hadn't been listening to a word of what he'd said. It really felt like John was just looking for an excuse to launch into a long monologue about how much he'd spent on Bella and all the tangential dog stuff. So assuming that John doesn't remember their conversation, which does seem pretty likely, and considering Eddie's own monster powers…

"I can scale that fence, easy," Eddie muses, "not that I'm saying we should. But I… could scale the walls. Leave big claw marks. Make it look like some sort of cryptid ran off with the dog…"

"Ooh! You could carry me on your back and I can wrap my vines around you! Really sell the cryptid angle!" Chrissy squeals.

Eddie looks at her in disbelief and admiration. "What have we done to you?"

"Only good things apparently," Chrissy says with a wink. "Now, are we getting this dog or not?"

"You know what?" Eddie throws his hands up. "Still not a dog person. But Steve's been pining up a storm, so I'll do it just for him."

-----

There is a creature.

NOTNOWBELLA jolts awake. A thing, a giant thing, with too many limbs and too much fur, a thing with two hearts and two noses and two different scents, stands in front of her. NOTNOWBELLA squints, trying to figure out where this thing begins and ends. She should bark. She needs to tell JON there are monsters. But if she howls now, he might come and check, she'd draw him into danger instead of slaying the danger where it is. No, she should bite. She should rip. She should tear this unknowable thing of infinite size into tiny little pieces then bark then JON would see that she is a good dog and give her a pat on the head.

NOTNOWBELLA crouches low, ready to attack, hoping that the creature isn't looking at her. It's impossible to tell where the head is or where the eyes are. But then the thing opens up, into EDEE.

NOTNOWBELLA whines and cocks her head.

"l;awejroaiwejrlskdjroweij COME ;aoweirjwaer?" EDEE murmurs.

NOTNOWBELLA takes a tentative step forward. The thing around Eddie warps then winds around her. NOTNOWBELLA startles and snaps at the thing attempting to hold her down, to trap her, to maker her do a BATH or maybe SHOT or maybe even go VET. She opens her mouth and prepares to bite off the hated thing coiled around her haunches but then—

"a;woejraoier IT'S OK woeirjoawe awea oiwjeri STAY" EDEE says as he wraps his hands around her face and scritches the right spot behind her ears.

NOTNOWBELLA huffs to show her displeasure. She better get a good chase out of this. She lets herself go limp and lets the thing wrap more around her. She sniffs at EDEE's offered hand as the thing wraps her and itself around EDEE's back. Then EDEE goes off running, like a CAR. NOTNOWBELLA lets her head flop and mouth open and tongue out to lets the wind and scents flow around her jaws and watches her territory get smaller and smaller in the background.

----

Eddie and Steve stand nervously as the dog formerly named Bella sniffs around their apartment. The window AC they managed to scrounge up from goodwill is rattling. The big bag of the best dog food they could afford (so not very good probably) is sagging sadly in the corner. The dog bed they got was so expensive, but Eddie has a terrible feeling that it's still going to be too small. The dog looks huge in their apartment. This feels like a mistake.

The dog trots over to them and sits. It looks at Eddie and Steve, big blue eyes unreadable.

Then she flops down on the floor, belly up, wagging her whole body starting from the tail. Steve is already laughing and petting the big ball of fluff. Eddie gets down on his knees and starts a cuddle pile.

"Welcome home Eowyn," he manages to sputter out while dodging Eowyn's wet tongue on his face.

[bricky-brikson]

Writeblr Intro

Hello all ! I'm Bricky, but you can call me Brick. I'm a fresh young adult, currently in university for medical sciences. I'm an acearo trans man, and since I'm on Tumblr I'm predictably clinically depressed, probably autistic, and have some other mental weirdness of the personality disorder type going on.

I've been here for a while now, but I thought a writeblr intro should be in order as I am very slowly re-organizing my blog.

I mostly write historical fiction, horror, and crime procedurals (all featuring whump), but I often branch out in attempts to try new things. Some of my favourite tropes/themes/subjects include Victorian aesthetics, obsession, social isolation, medical or psychiatric settings, cannibalism, and snakes (hence the dividers). So you know, only the cheeriest of things around here.

My current original WIPs (and their tags) are...

#dear cassedy : a murder mystery set in 1920's Toronto, centred on the area of St John's Ward, which was where most immigrants and impoverished of the time lived. I've been doing a lot of research about the history of marginalized groups in Toronto for this story, and research is like, my favourite part of historical fiction.

#echolalia : a creature feature, featuring the creature, set in a rather nebulous 80s-90s somewhere in Canada. Not quite sure what to do with it, but I'm currently ironing out character concepts.

#spirit phone (title pending) : as the name implies, a story (or series, still not sure) inspired by the album by Lemon Demon. I'm still trying to figure out what it's even about. There's cults and demons involved, that's all I'm certain about.

#psycho-therapy (title pending) : one of the first stories I ever made that I'm now re-working. Likely going to be focused on psychiatric abuse mixed with paranormal horror

#group projects : a general tag for a couple of unnamed stories that are based on random RPs I do with some of my friends. One is vaguely realistic and about a small drug trafficking ring. Another is an urban paranormal setting where monsters and other such creatures are a fact of life.

#writing about injuries : a series of posts about injuries and their effects, aimed primarily at whump authors.

I also write fanfic (predictably). I share them on my AO3, if you'd like to check them out. Some of my fandoms include Cookie Run (CRK/CROB), Psychonauts, Gravity Falls, Sky: Children of the Light, and Hollow Knight. I'm into some other stuff too, but not super interested in writing fic about it. Currently I'm working on...

#no cost too great | psychonauts : a Psychonauts fanfic focusing on Lucrecia's experience in Grulovia leading up to her assuming the title of Maligula.

#poor thing | cookie run : a Cookie Run Kingdom fanfic about Shadow Milk visiting the dreams of Pure Vanilla post Beast-Yeast 8.

#no mercy | cookie run : a Cookie Run Kingdom AU considering what things might be like if the Beasts were to win the final battle between the Union and forces of Darkness, mostly focusing on Beast x Ancient whump. I like seeing the Ancients suffer :)

So, those are my WIPs ! I hope something caught your eye. Throw me a follow or a reblog if you're interested in what I have to show :]

My asks are always open, feel free to send me questions or requests ! I can't guarantee a finished product, but you'll get some thoughtful rambles at the very least.

Above divider by @/cafekitsune. I sadly do not have the source for the snake divider.

[speciallivery]

TALK TO ME ABOUT ALL TEETH AND TRAWL OR ROSQUEZ SAW TRAP PLZ <3

OH BOY! (I am shaking because these two are my babies)

Saw trap Rosquez

So, over the past few weeks my favourite hobby has become putting Rosquez in a box together and then shaking the box like a hornet's nest. These two freaks of nature have intrigued me beyond my own sanity. What would happen if they were, just, forced to talk to each other in less than ideal circumstances. And I like horror to begin with. A literal saw trap is a no-brainer. I go into further detail about how I think it should become a fic trope here. But yeah, Jigsaw (if you like the franchise, it's also fun to debate which of the apprentices or copy cats or maybe John himself did it. This does change the design of the trap and whether it is 'beatable') is a motorsport fan apparently, and he has had it with their bullshit. Severely unedited snippet that is bound to change. Content warning: suicidal ideation:

He never should’ve come to COTA. That’s his first thought, for some reason. Because if he hadn’t insisted on coming with, flying out to America, then he probably wouldn’t have ended up here.  Wherever the fuck ‘here’ might be located.  There’s that fucking puppet, and Marquez, of course Marc Marquez is here too. Valentino looks around the room and to be honest, he is heavily considering immediately throwing it and killing himself ��� letting himself get killed — whatever. The jury isn’t out on if it counts or not. It might be painful, but it’s probably not as painful as going through the entire process, dealing with Marc Marquez and then still ending up death. 

So now they have to work together, and oh you know it's about their biggest flaws and arguments. So in the end, Valentino needs to trust that Marc won't screw him over, and Marc gets offered a chance at revenge in a dramatic ironic twist that leaves Vale completely out of control.

All Teeth & Trawl

Honestly, to me, this is the big one. I have a tag for it, I posted a bunch of snippets already, because I am not a fast writer and a WIP-hopper so sharing and talking through the writing process helps me stay focussed.

It is a literal retelling of the Rosquez divorce saga, but with Marc as a man eating mermaid and Valentino as a paranoid king:

Marc's hero worship of Vale -> Vale being absolutely intrigued by the wonderful freak of nature -> them genuinely being in love with each other (it's unhealthy still) ->

Vale becoming more and more intimidated by Marc's capabilities, but Marc doesn't understand that, he just does what he always does. (Complete with visor Uccio whispering into Vale's ear) ->

Vale lashing out and doing something unforgivable -> Marc becoming the monster Vale accuses him of being.

Oh, and it's body horror inspired by gothic novels and poetry bundles. Hunger as a metaphor for twisted, rotted love. Writing this is taking me a long time, because I am so careful with my words and sentence structure. Every sentence got rewritten at least three times, so far. I even want the writing to be somewhat uncanny. Maybe that's pretentious, I don't care.

I'll leave you with this description of Marc, the first time Pecco pulls him out of the water:

Out of the water, the creature looks unfathomable — puzzlingly pulchritudinous. Pecco is reflected back upon himself in deep set blackened irises and sclera which reveal no emotion. It is smiling, perhaps, or that is just its physiognomy; too many teeth to fit into a closed mouth. Translucent blue-tinted skin is pulled too tight around lean muscle, morphing slowly into atramentous iridescent scales down its tail. The mermaid is smaller than Pecco thought it would be -still closing in on nearly eight feet, finn to crown- but shorter still.

[daisukekaza]

THIIIIS.

Don't get me wrong, I love reading fic where John has those types of reaponses for the conflict too, but the way he treats them in canon? He's so afraid of losing what's left of his family-- what's left of his wife-- that it stops occuring to him that his kids are kids. That they aren't just soldiers because he was a soldier and they're not just extension of himself and his grief.

If he told them that they shouldn't feel things, it was because he felt so much grief he was numb with it and he can't let it paralyze him. He needed to protect them and get revenge to keep them safe and somewhere he lost the plot on how protecting them is his job and not Dean's. How teaching his kids to fight the monsters they shouldn't know about isn't a substitute for protecting them.

He's a broken man who can't see his own abuse until Sam throws it in his face by being just like him while Dean quietly tries to keep the non-existent peace. And just when he manages to start figuring out how to fix that, he goes and sacrifices himself instead and passes on his solution to Sam's being the true vessel of the devil without any of his reasons why or information about what's going on to Dean. It's all so fucked up but it's also so realistic for a character with his background.

Because let's also not forget his own trauma of his dad disappearing (thanks, time travel) and having the closest thing to a father figure for him be the military.

At least Sam and Dean got Bobby and Pastor Jim sometimes to mitigate some small parts of the damage, but John did a number on them without having to be physical or homophobic or anti-feelings. His biggest sin was being absent, just like his own father, and putting the weight of responsibility on Dean's shoulders. Dean raised himself based on the few memories he had of his mom, the few interactions he had with his dad, and whatever the television told him was a proper way to interact with family. Sam followed Dean's lead, but adults were transient creatures to him. Never permanent.

Abuse takes a lot of forms, and I'd be willing to bet that one of the real reasons that they never had a home base like Bobby's house was to avoid CPS while John hunted monsters.

Meanwhile Dean is barely old enough to buy food at a grocery store and I don't think we ever really learn how he got the money before he was old enough to hustle pool--assuming he didn't just steal what they needed instead. Sam never trusts adults enough to talk to them even when he's angry at his dad, and neither of them is in one place long enough to make friends who might notice what's going on. They're codependent for a lot of reasons in this show, but a huge one is that John never let them make any lasting connections with anyone else, even him.

On paper, John's crusade might seem Good and Just, but in reality it makes him a broken, abusive father. He doesn't need to have bad intentions, or be narrow minded about gender or sexuality, or even be emotionally constipated (though he might be that, he doesn't have to explicitly teach that to Sam or Dean) to be those things.

yeah to me it feels like the popular idea that John was homophobic/beat his kid(s)/taught them that having emotion makes you weak is just ppl choosing to interpret 'abusive father' in the shallowest most black-and-white movie villain way possible. when the ways he fucks them up in canon are so much more interesting and complicated.

[helloliriels]

'2022 YEAR OF THE CRACK FIC' CHALLENGE IS ON!

Are you writing a Crack Fic to enter in this years' Challenge? Any questions? Let me know! What is Crack? - If you wouldn't normally write it - too silly, too over the top, too out of your box? Write it! Toss it in the ring! THis is YoUr ChaNce To ThRoW OuT thE RuLeS! Do eet. Thank me later. Bahaha! (and maybe win some art in return?!)

🍬 Do Not Microwave Him! by FawnHickory - Part 1 of Skittles series!

🍫 Skittles by FawnHickory - Part 2 of the Skittles series!

🍭 Dinner Jackets & Deception by trillian_jdc- Mycroft Holmes and Greg Lestrade are spies, sent to gather information from a target through seduction if necessary, but they find each other a bit of a distraction.

🍬 In Another Life by RiTheBiGuy_TileyTMR- My submission for the year of the crack fic challenge so enjoy. Also this just gets so ridiculous so yeah I have no idea how to prepare you all for that …

🍫 Love Potion No.9 by helloliriels - Sherlock pretends to be under the spell of a love potion to hit on John and see how he takes it? In which, Sherlock Holmes is a shy genius. And Mike & Molly are good wingmen.

🍭 Did You Steal My Penis? by FawnHickory- John is trying to have a nice cup of tea when Sherlock has a small crisis.

🍬 Love At First Bite by Fluffbyday_Smutbynight - “It’ll be fun,” Mike had said. Recently discharged John Watson has an… interesting night out.

🍫 Snow Angels, Baker Street Style by FawnHickory - John discovers a hole in Greg’s life experiences and remedies it rather creatively.

🍭 Vegetables by FawnHickory - Sherlock is accidentally exposed to a hallucinogenic substance. The comparisons his mind makes are interesting.

🍬 Sherlock Needs a Doctor … For His Writing by trillian_jdc - Sherlock tries writing up some of his own cases, but he needs some medical advice. Perhaps Mycroft knows a candidate?

🍫 Birdie Sitting! by FawnHickory - Part 3 of the Skittles series!

🍭 Zing and You’ll Miss It! by Raina_at - Every year, the monster community meets at Halloween for a big party. Sherlock is bored out of his mind as usual, when suddenly a handsome human stumbles into the monster party. 

🍬 Do Not Download the Souls! by helloliriels - Sherlock ‘on-the-side-of-the-angels’ Holmes was not supposed to be a detective … John Hamish Watson was not supposed to be dead … We all have bad days. (WIP)

🍫 So You’re Like Me by Yuliares - The sun is going down, and John Watson is standing in front of a looming mansion with a delivery for one Sherlock Holmes. aka “Homosexula” Twitter crack

🍭 CPR by MutedSilence - Sherlock sings CPR by CupcakKe when he’s alone. What can he say, it’s catchy.

🍬 It Happens For Good by hey_there_buddy - “John, have you-” John stared at Sherlock, his blue eyes boring into the detective’s calculating one, waiting for Sherlock to finish the sentence. Which Sherlock never finished.

🍫 No matter the chase, it’s you by my side by Yuliares - “Jesus Christ!” yells John, nearly spilling his hot mug of tea over his lap. He glares as Sherlock bursts into the room. “What is it now?”

“It’s Valentine’s day,” hisses Sherlock, stabbing the mantlepiece, face scrunched up in disdain.

🍭 A Tooth For A Traumatic Experience by MutedSilence - Sherlock loses a tooth and learns about the tooth fairy.

🍬 Speak Now! by Raina_at - Now is not the time to say something ... Last chance. Make up your mind, Holmes!

🍫 I Will Go Down With This Ship! by helloliriels - Their ship was sinking. John & Sherlock hold each other. (yes, I rewatched Titanic)

🍭 Duet by PlantsAreNeat - Intimacy can be measured by how comfortable one feels with another person, even at moments when perhaps, one should feel embarrassed.

🍬 Why Are You Hiding In The Dark? by FawnHickory - Fill for a Tumblr prompt! Dialogue prompt “…Why are you hiding in the dark?”

🍫 Mrs. Hudson’s Crack Brew! by ChrisCalledMeSweetie Mrs. Hudson is beginning to regret the part she played in bringing Sherlock and John together. Not to put too fine a point on it, those boys are LOUD. Can she find a way to make things better? Or will she only make them worse? It all depends on your perspective…

🍭 Sherly Boner and Jammy Hotson Investigate the Threatened Queens by MutedSilence. Sherlock never expected John Watson to be a great Drag Queen. He will have John in his bed by the end of the night - consensually of course.

🍬 I Love Lamp by helloliriels. It was a ridiculous whim … buying the lamp. And Sherlock just might lose his mind, trying to unlock it’s secrets … 

🍫 Uncover My (S)mouldering Heart by Asterisko. The mould in 221C might not be what it seems.

🍭 Human Urges by topsyturvy_turtely. John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. He despised himself for it. It was going on his nerves. In fact it annoyed the fucking SHIT out of him. That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed!

🍬 Sherlock’s Secret Laboratory Journal by meet_me_in_samarra. What does a helplessly pining but absolutely clueless Sherlock do in order to woo an oblivious John? He turns to the internet for advice on the art of seduction and notes the experiments in his secret laboratory journal …

Have a Crack Fic to add to the Challenge?? Post it on AO3 and add it to ‘2022_Crack_Fix’ collection, or tag @helloliriels with ‘#2022 year of the crack fic’ on Tumblr!

@johnlocky @ohlooktheresabee @chinike @rhasima @myriath @fawnhickory @john-smiths-jawline @gaylilsherlock @chriscalledmesweetie @topsyturvy-turtely @justanobsessedpan @bluebellofbakerstreet @inevitably-johnlocked @meetinginsamarra @musingsofmyown @janetm74 @sgam76 @mutedsilence @summerfly-lesbian @impalaparkedat221b @raina-at @khorazir @kettykika78 @kaursblog11 @luciengenic @safedistancefrombeingsmart @masterofhounds @whatnext2020 @loki-lock @detafo @lavenderandvanilla @johannadc @jilldarbc @dinner--starving @therealsaintscully @calaisreno @purplevatican @arwamachine @discordantwords @simplyclockwork @totallysilvergirl @blogstandbygo @writingloud

[queerwritersingerdramaqueen]

ONE MORE, PLEASE LET IT ONLY BE ONE MORE REBLOG AND PLEASE LET THIS ISSUE BE RESOVLED COME THE VENGEANCE SAGA

 Hera/Hudson - BIG MAMA HUDSON COMING IN. She is extremely straight forward in her understanding of all this and, honestly, throughout the Manga gives off the vibe that she does not have the best luck with men (whether in finding them or keeping them). However you want to look at it, her reasoning is, "William broke up with Sherlock, Sherlock sad, make William go boom." Seriously though, the bar was so fucking low and Zeus still manages to fly under it, what the fuck man. I fucking choked when i first heard Hera's part. Anyway, Sherlock just starts listing off everything he likes about him and then comes to the understanding that Hudson needs a stronger reason and throws the fucking curveball at her. And she can't quite fight that logic but she still has her suspicions. Hudson is coming from a place of care but also some admiration for William and maybe she’s rooting for the two of them just a little bit and that’s why she’s willing to listen over arguing.   I'd also like to say really quickly, again, that this is my own little universe and what’s happening here should not in any way reflect on how you handle things in real life. I feel like, at least from 221B's perspective, I paint William really badly and that's because they haven't been around all the things happening on set for as long as Sherlock. They don't have the same inner context and if this were an actual written fic with introspection and differing perspectives on the situation at hand, maybe it would come across better; but yes, I am fully aware that in this number, it sounds like William is a prick. That'll be rectified with the coming sagas where William portrays his love for Sherlock more explicitly than in, lets say, Monster.  LUKE HOLT THE MAN YOU ARE. He already has the deepest voice I've ever heard and he just GOES BIGGER???? JUST LIKE THAT??? That's fucking awesome. That aside: Zeus throws his temper tantrum and I'd really like if there was a way to let him jump from some high place for this with a "lightning bolt" because that would be so cool. That part's simple enough, (also, john being the one to ask if Athena is dead, with that tone of voice is just *cries in sibling*) it's the next part that's gonna make me fucking lose it. Obviously, we can't do like what they did in the livestream. SO WE'RE DOING THIS: Lights turn blue and during the simple Piano melody, William comes out and meets Athena on the ground, helping him up just a bit and by the time of the big crescendo, William's helping Sherlock stumble forward until he doesn't need to anymore and he walks off backstage. Sherlock's reaching for William when he does the "let him go" and only just remembers to direct it at Jack and say please. The symbolism in this is like when Sherlock talks about William reaffirming his existence. William helped Sherlock forward just as much he helped William and I want to EMPHASISE that because this relationship looks REALLY one sided in this form of writing. Then he just passes the fuck out.

So this one isn't super heavy plot wise, mostly because the real world timeline is now all messy with the musical world. I'd imagine we're getting towards some form of conclusion. I'm still trying to figure out if Milverton "courting" Penelope/Sherlock will have a significance in the real world or if he'll have some superficial reason (like, "aww darn it, I wanted to be Odysseus"), but the main thing is that I'm not doing stupid relationship drama. I did not spend all this time teaching them COMMUNICATION, just for them to be silly over a misunderstanding. Also, Sherliam + Bill family sign me the fuck up.

Nonetheless, this is still one of my favourites to work on. I was so excited to finally get to play around with Sherlock, Bill and 221B, I love them so much. If there is literally any better option than Albert to play Calypso, I'd love to hear it (but granted, albert would enjoy playing Calypso and maybe I'll give him some double entendre drama in "not sorry for loving you" (any alcroft shippers in the audience?)). I've listened to pieces of the next saga and all I'm going to say is that Mycroft has no clue Sherlock is seeing William again and he has some thoughts.

*Calypso voice* ANYWAY, Sorry it took me so long, I got fucking curveballed into the sun and I'm still busy. Tumblr has apparently decided it doesn't like my posting lengths and WON'T SAVE ANYTHING PAST A SPECIFIC LENGTH; but I will persevere. I got to have some fun chats before this started with my good good friend @aka-no-ken so this saga was fleshed out before I even wrote it. Thank you so much for reading, I hope I don't lose my mind before the next saga comes out.

TUMBLR, I WILL MAKE YOU POST THIS

PREVIEW: 

AKA-NO-KEN YOU ACTUAL PHSCHIC HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUESS ALL MY GOD CASTINGS CORRECTLY???

AGAIN, WISDOM SAGA SPOILERS SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALSO MAYBE A TRIGGER WARNING FOR LOVE IN PARADISE CAUSE THAT WAS MORE THAN I WAS FUCKING EXPECTING.

THIS IS SHERLOCK AND BILL'S FUCKING SAGA NOW BITCHES BROS AND NON-BINARY HOES. AND AGAIN, I'M FANGIRLING AS I GO.

So, with where we left off, William's having a minor relapse in his mental state but it won't become too much of a plot point/serious thing. He and Moran are on funky terms but if there is no "reconciliation" in later sagas then We'll figure that out when we get there. Anyway, this saga ain't about him.

(ALSO, I MISSED A FUCKING OPPOURTUNITY

VON HERDER AS TIRESIAS, IM A FOOL)

Anyway, lets get started.

The Wisdom Saga:

Legendary - BILL IS HERE FUCKERS. SHERLIAM'S ADPOTED SON IS GONNA BE LEGENDARY. I really like how this parallels with Canon when Bill only knew William as a genius professor and Sherlock's actually the one who introduces them in a way. It'll set up nicely for when we get to "I can't help but wonder" and Telemachus/Bill has to toss up with the fact that his Dad just removed the twenty year problem but he did also kill a bunch of people (you know, like in canon.). So this starts out with the lights slowly coming in and Bill's "room" has a chair and a few other easily moveable props. This is a very dancey number I'm finding so these props are probably gonna get taken off stage so there can be actors milling around for Telemachus to interact with, I think he'd be mostly weaving between them trying to avoid them while they keep swiping at him. The majority of suitors can be off the stage but Antinous and a few others are up there ready for the "Whatcha gonna do about it, champ?" The lights would change on Boy to a red colour. It would be so cute seeing Billy fight for Sherlock's Honour. I think something really cool that could happen is when Telemachus sings "somebody help me" the lights flash blue for a second like Athena has heard his plea. and at the very end of the song, he punches Milverton square on the nose (in the fake way of course).

Little Wolf - My big idea for this that would absolutely not transfer over to a regular production of Epic the musical would be that Antinous/Milverton is not the one fighting Telemachus/Bill. I cannot really see Milverton fighting for himself and would definitely have lackey's doing it for him; but outside of this AU Antinous absolutely fights for himself. But yeah, Milverton mocks the shit out of Bill while he's fighting somebody. The lights stay red while the suitors and Milverton are doing their thing. When Athena appears the lights turn blue like fighting of the panic of being in a fight. I think this is one of those moments where its so fun having Sherlock as Athena and Penelope cause it's like "Don't worry baby, Mama's here to help." But, onto the super cool crossover intertexuality talk I can't seem to do right now, Sherlock as Athena fits very nicely cause he, alongside William, helps Bill get into the university; so Sherlock being the one helping in this fight reminds me of that. And Athena's "I've no respect for bullies" reminds me of his disdain for Milverton and his methods of blackmail. ALSO, HER PIANO IN THAT PART IS SO FUCKING GOOD I FUCKING ASCENDED. PAIRING IT WITHT HE DRUMS THAT WAY, WHO DOES JORGE THINK HE IS. In a way, this is like showing how Penelope would like to react to her suitors beating up her son (it just popped into my head but kind of like a batman meme, Penelope dressing up as the goddess of wisdom to fuck up her son's bullies). Athena's whole solo there sounds a lot like Sherlock when he was talking to Irene. And when the fight ends and Antinous says Penelope needs to pick a suitor, Athena/Sherlock is very disturbed before he helps Bill up.

We'll be Fine - The thing I love the absolute most about this musical is exploring Sherlock's side of this whole fiasco they were in and giving him a chance to vent some of this frustrations. Because it wasn't easy on him either and he might blame himself a little bit for not being able to help more. Bill knows a little bit about it from gossip and rumour and being a part of the Epic cast for a little while, not too much but between the two of them, Bill understands that Sherlock is letting out a bit of his frustration with the previous problem and the repeat that seems to be occurring, because he's super smart like that (I say seems because in real life, it won't last that long and William is probably gonna be ok and reconciled with Moran by the time we get there. It'll hopefully make sense once we get to the next saga but I just can't keep knocking this dude over he needs to start healing and giving him a less self-jeopardising problem to fight). Even though he and William have worked through a fair bit of what happened and their still going really strong, Sherlock is still worried. Sherlock's super soft on Bill because he's so similar to William. Bill, while sticking to the script, is just subtly reassuring him that it's ok, they'll get through this rough patch and they'll be fine. Sherlock doesn't need to be the first responder. A little bit of it probably comes out as Bill saying "William wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over this," especially when he mentions Athena's friend (William and Bill are also probably really close friends at this point, don't tell me William wouldn't take him under his wing immediately after they're introduced). When Athena calls him a good kid, Sherlock ruffles his hair and then Bill makes a move like someone's calling him and runs off, leaving him for the next part.

ALRIGHT I'M HAVING FUCKING ISSUES WITH TUMBLR RIGHT NOW SO STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO BECAUSE ANYTHING LONGER THAN THIS WONT FUCKING POST OR SAVE AS A DRAFT.

@aka-no-ken I'M COMING SWEETIE AND I'M BRINGING MY WORK WITH ME JUST BEAR WITH ME

[hintsofhoney]

Incubus

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader (mostly platonic)

Summary: The case you and the Winchesters are on turns out to be a monster under your bed.

Square(s) Filled: Demon for @spnmixedbingo​

Tags: 18+, crack, language, dirty dream, very light smut (literally just like... neck kissing lmao), I literally have no idea what this is but I’m also obsessed with it (???)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I wrote this for @there-must-be-a-lock’s Fics Against Humanity Challenge as well as for @smol-and-grumpy’s What the Actual Plot Challenge. For Fics Against Humanity, my prompt was, “Defenestration is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off” and for the What the Actual Plot, I had to tell a story about the time the monster under my bed tried to seduce me while including a snow storm, chakra cleansing, diabetes, and a porn addiction. This was beta’d by my lovely @deangirl93​🤍 Prompts will be in bold. GIF is mine. I hope you guys enjoy whatever the hell this is.

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“So, how do you know this guy again?” you asked, staring out of the backseat window as you watched snow-covered mountains appear on the horizon. 

“Think our dad worked a case for him years ago. I dunno. Never met him. But he said he thinks that it’s ‘something John would know how to deal with’, so I figured that’s gotta be our kinda thing,” Dean replied, placing his hand in front of the vent to the lower left of the steering wheel in an attempt to warm it.

“We’re driving to a cabin in the middle of buttfuck Wyoming in the dead of winter on a hunch?” you asked irritably, crossing your arms over your chest as you sat back in your seat, the cold of the leather seeping in through your clothes. You hated sitting in the back of the Impala during the winter time – the heat could be on full blast and it still wouldn’t reach you, leaving you to freeze no matter how many layers you had on. 

“We’ve driven further for less,” Dean reasoned, shoving a few gummy worms into his mouth as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. 

You sighed – he was right. But that was in the summertime, and Baby’s AC worked much better than her heat did. “Slow down on the gummy worms, will you?” you changed the subject, not wanting to go back to the boring quiet that had been consuming the car prior to your first question. “You’re gonna give yourself diabetes.” 

“Yeah, right,” he snorted. “I’ve never even had a cavity, Y/N.” 

“Diabetes and cavities have nothing to do with each other,” Sam chimed in, giving his brother a questioning look. 

“Yeah, they do. You eat too much sugar, bam – cavities. Even more sugar, bam – diabetes. If I haven’t had enough sugar to give me a cavity then I really haven’t had enough to give me diabetes.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Not at all how that works,” he sighed, before looking over to you in the rearview. “You got a word of the week for us, Y/N?”

You smiled at his question before pulling out your phone. Hunting tore you away from your regular life when you were in your third year of college – and you had always hated that you never got the chance to finish. You were an English major, and so, in an effort to retain at least a little of what you had learned, you had a ‘Word of the Week’ app installed on your phone. Every Sunday it’d give you a rare word, and then you challenged yourself to use it within the week. Sam being Sam liked joining in on the fun, but Dean always used the opportunity to make fun of you – lovingly, of course. 

“Defenestration,” you announced, reading from your ‘Word of the Week’ app. 

“Sounds dirty,” Dean snickered, plopping another gummy worm into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s the act of throwing someone out of a window. In other words, what I want to do to you most days.” You weren’t lying – the green-eyed hunter did get on your nerves about 98% of the time… but the other 2%? The other 2%, when he was cupping your face after you had nearly been knocked out cold from a fight, asking if you were okay with worry in his eyes, or when he would make you a burger just the way you liked it without you having to ask because he could tell you were hungry, or when he would call you ‘sweetheart’ to get your attention while asking the most simple of questions, like ‘Sweetheart, have you seen my boots?’, like you were his and not just a best friend that he lived with – those were the times that you found yourself wishing that the two of you were more.

“Haha,” Dean deadpanned in response to your snarky remark as he stared back at you in the rearview. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile in return, and Sam chuckled softly at the interaction. “Well, not sure how we’re gonna use that one this week,” he said, turning around to face you with a look that said, ‘got any ideas?’.

“Sam, we hunt monsters. At some point, someone’s getting thrown out of a window.” 

“As long as it ain’t me,” Dean piped up through a mouthful of gummy worms. 

“No promises.”

A few hours later Dean was pulling up to your destination, all three of you sharing the same speechless expression as you took the place in. Before you had left, he had somewhat briefed you on the case, explaining that Jim, the man who had called, owned a cabin out in the Wyoming mountains that he liked to rent out during the winter months. He had failed to mention that the “cabin” was more like a modern log mansion with massive floor-to-ceiling windows on the top and bottom floors, a balcony, and a front porch that was probably the size of the bunker’s library. The three of you slowly got out of the car, staring up at the fortress in front of you.

“Is this the definition of a cabin these days?” you asked, not even caring about the freezing mountain air biting at your cheeks – you were too excited for the opportunity to live in luxury for a few days – even if you were here to fight a monster.

“Guess so,” Dean replied, his hot breath visible as it mixed with the cold air.

The three of you began walking up to the front door after collecting your duffels from the Impala, still in awe of your home for the next few nights. Not sleeping in a musty roadside motel room was a luxury that you were never able to afford. In a way, the size of the place would make the case slightly more difficult. Dean had explained that the last few renters had claimed to hear whispers in the middle of the night, along with the feeling of being watched while they slept. No flickering lights or cold spots, but after the previous family had checked out, apparently there was a faint smell of sulfur in the air. Jim had gotten everything checked out by the gas, water, and electric companies, and he was told that nothing was wrong. That was when he had decided to call John, whose voicemail had directed him to Dean.

You watched as Dean bent down and picked up the doormat, grabbing the house key from underneath it. You readjusted the bag on your shoulder as he unlocked the door, allowing you and Sam to go in ahead of him before he stepped in after you, closing the barrier behind him. 

The inside was even more impressive than the outside. The front door opened into a massive open floor plan living room and kitchen with enough seating for you and every hunter you knew, a large flat screen TV above the fireplace, and what had to be at least a ten foot tall Christmas tree before the two-story window that looked out into the front yard. Your gaze followed up the tree, your neck craning backwards to look at the high ceilings, before spotting the loft above the kitchen which had a hallway on either end of it that you assumed led to the bedrooms.

The three of you were all doing the same thing – slowly spinning in place as you looked around, none of you ever having stayed in something this nice before.

“Jim said we can have the place as long as it takes for us to kill this thing, right?” you breathed.

Dean nodded, taking a few steps further into the house and glancing down the hallways that branched off of the living room in either direction.

“Then let’s take our time.”

After a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, courtesy of Jim and his fridge which he assured you all was for guests, the three of you agreed that it was best to get some shut-eye as the drive had been long and you were all worn out. You had managed to snag the master bedroom (thank you to whoever invented the rule of “dibs”), and it was almost ten by the time you had showered and gotten into bed. The large window behind your headboard allowed the sound of the high winds outside to fill up the room, the soft whooshing soothing you to sleep. For a moment before you drifted off, you could have sworn you heard someone whispering, “I want you” from underneath your bed, Dean’s face popping up in your mind a few seconds later, whispering the same thing in your ear as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your ability to distinguish reality from your dreams left you as you entered a deep sleep.

You woke up the next morning with a tightness in your abdomen, arousal between your legs, and your heart racing. You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling as you tried to forget the dream you had. Your mind wandered back to the whisper you heard before you had fully entered your fantasy, wondering if it could in any way be related to the case you were here for. You pulled the comforter off of you with a frustrated sigh, making a mental note to ask the boys if they had heard anything last night too, as you opened your bag and pulled out some leggings and a work-out tank. Before you could do anything else, you needed to clear your head of the dirty images of Dean that were still floating around in it, and there was no better way to do that than with some morning yoga. 

Making your way downstairs with your yoga mat tucked under your arm, the smell of bacon and eggs filled your nostrils. You nodded a quick good morning to the brothers, Sam at the stove making eggs as Dean sat at the counter with a half-eaten piece of bacon in his hand.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he greeted, raking his eyes over your body quickly – though it didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

He watched as you set up your yoga mat in front of the Christmas tree, chuckling as he saw you realize that the view of the front yard that had been there yesterday was now gone, replaced by a five foot wall of white snow pushed up against the glass. 

“Snow storm last night,” Sam explained. “We’re stuck here ‘til it melts, whether we kill this thing or not.” 

“Jesus,” you replied under your breath, “that’s like, five feet of snow overnight.” 

“You didn’t hear it? Fucking blizzard outside kept me up all night,” Dean mumbled irritably, taking another bite of his breakfast. 

You shook your head, thankful that you were facing away from them as you felt a blush rise in your cheeks when you thought about why you didn’t hear anything last night. You took a deep breath as you sat down on your mat and closed your eyes, bringing your hands in a prayer position to your chest. Trying to clear your mind, you zeroed in on your breathing, attempting to ignore the pair of eyes that you were feeling on your back. 

“I didn’t know you cleansed your chakras or whatever when we’re on cases,” Dean stated.

“I’m surprised you even know what a chakra is,” you replied with a mental roll of your eyes and another deep breath, doing your best to ignore him. 

“You should try it sometime,” Sam chimed in, as he scrambled the eggs in front of him.

“What, yoga?”

“Yeah, it’s good for you. I do workouts with Y/N in the morning sometimes. I couldn’t touch my toes a few months ago, now I can.” 

“The hell would I ever need to be able to touch my toes for?” 

Their conversation faded into the background of your consciousness while you zeroed in on your chest rising and falling, allowing a wave of peace washing over you as you maneuvered your way into a downward facing dog a few moments later.

Dean swallowed down the groan that almost escaped him, masking it with a cough as he acted like some bacon went down the wrong pipe. He had always known that you had done yoga in the mornings, however, you usually always did it in your room, and on days that Sam had joined you, it was before Dean was ever awake. If this was the sight that he had been missing out on, maybe he could try some self-help touchy-feely yoga crap himself. 

Sam cleared his throat, bringing Dean out of his incoming dirty thoughts, as he placed some scrambled eggs on his brother’s plate. He mumbled a thank you as he turned around, and you silently thanked Sam in your head for distracting him, because having him watch you was doing nothing to clear your mind of the night you had.

About 15 minutes later you were rolling up your mat, satisfied with your workout and ready to start the day. Leaning the squishy material against the couch, you made your way to the counter, taking a seat next to Dean as you piled some bacon and eggs onto your plate. With your head a little clearer, you decided to ask them if they had heard anything other than the wind last night. 

“So,” you began, shoving a forkful of eggs into your mouth, “did you guys hear anything else last night? You know, besides the blizzard.” 

“What?” Dean questioned, confused.

“Whispering, for example? Like the renters had been hearing.”

“No. Did you?” Sam inquired.

You shrugged. “I think so? I mean, it could have been –” you stopped dead in your tracks, realizing that you were toeing the line on admitting that you had a dirty dream, “ – nothing. Like, I could have been imagining it or something.”

“What’d you hear?” Dean asked.

“Um, it was weird. Like, seductive, almost? ‘I want you’ was what I heard.”

Dean had to work to keep his laughter at bay and you shot him a look that could kill as you shoved a mouthful of egg into your mouth. 

Sam let an amused huff escape him. “You sure you weren’t just hearing Dean’s porn addiction from across the hall?”

The older Winchester scowled at him, opening his mouth to reply before you interrupted.

“Guys, I’m serious. It could be the thing we’re here for, right?”

Dean sighed in defeat. “Okay. Where were the sounds coming from?”

“From under my bed.” You kept a straight face, despite how ridiculous you knew it sounded.

“Are you tellin’ me there’s a monster under your bed trying to seduce you?” Dean snorted, but you didn’t find it funny at all. 

“Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, and I could have imagined it for all we know but it does fit with what Jim was telling us, right? Whispers in the middle of the night? It’s worth looking into.” 

“No, I agree,” Sam smiled sweetly, and you gave him a grateful look as you stood up from your stool and walked your plate to the sink. 

“I’m off to shower, then we can get to work.”

The search was not going well. While Sam had stuck to the lore and his laptop – the things he was best at – you and Dean had torn the master bedroom apart from top to bottom and put it back together again. The only place you hadn’t checked was under your bed – in part because you didn’t want to hear Dean making fun of you for it, but also because you were partially scared that this maybe wasn’t a monster at all, but some creep hiding under beds and whispering his version of sweet nothings to people while they slept. Somehow, demented humans made you more uncomfortable than the supernatural ever could.

“Are you serious?” he asked, as he caught you staring at the bed, mustering up the courage to look underneath it. 

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious! Do you know how creepy it is to have some voice whispering “I want you” to you in the dead of the night?”

“I just call that a good night,” he smirked.

Rolling your eyes, you let an irritated huff escape you as you folded your arms over your chest, feigning annoyance and pretending like his joke didn’t bring back images of him whispering the same three words to you in your dreams last night. “Will you please just check?” you asked, swallowing your pride.

Dean held back a chuckle as he walked over to the bed, dropping to his knees one at a time as he lifted the comforter out of the way. “See?” he prompted, glancing over to you as he motioned to the darkness underneath with his whole hand, “Nothing under here but some…” he trailed off as he ducked his head to take a better look, before finishing his sentence with, “sulfur. Well, I’ll be damned. There was a monster under your bed.”

The two of you made your way back down to the kitchen after your discovery, where Sam was still sitting at the counter, trying to find an explanation for the whispers that you had heard last night.

“Anything?” he asked hopefully, as Dean and you came to stand across from him.

“There’s traces of sulfur underneath her bed,” the green-eyed Winchester replied, his tone lined with a slight hint of disbelief.

“So, demon then?” Sam questioned.

“Can’t think of anything else that it could be.”

A smile spread across Sam’s lips – you knew that smile. It was the one he always got before he said his most famous phrase –

“So, get this,” he began, turning his laptop at an angle so all three of you could see. “The Incubus is a demon that preys upon sleeping women in order to engage in sexual activity with them,” he read. “It is said that the Incubus disturbs and seduces women in their sleep – some have even reported hearing seductive whispers coming from underneath their beds.” 

“Well, that sure as hell sounds like our guy,” you scoffed, always amazed by Sam’s nail-on-the-head research abilities. “How do we kill the fucker?”

“Well, it’s still a demon, so…”

“Right, but… it would need a vessel,” you reasoned. “There’s no one in my room, we’ve looked everywhere.” 

Sam sighed in thought as he leaned back in his seat. “Well, we could always start an exorcism. That might bring it out of its hiding spot. And then one of you can gank it when it comes out.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan.”

Half an hour later, you found yourself standing in the master bedroom with Sam and Dean on either side of you, all of you staring at the bed that you had had the best dream sex (or was it technically real sex, if the demon entered your mind as Dean?) of your life in – not that they would ever know that. 

You nodded to Sam, signaling him to begin, readjusting your grip on the demon blade in your hand. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest – you weren’t good with jump scares and you had a feeling that this was going to be one. With all six eyes trained to the bed, expecting the demon to somehow appear from underneath it, none of you noticed the dresser door slowly opening across from it. Sam was nearly halfway through the exorcism when you saw movement in your peripheral, and that was when Dean yelled, “It’s in the dresser!” and you launched yourself at it as it stepped fully out of the wardrobe. You hadn’t noticed the large window in between the dresser and the bed until you were charging full force at the vessel in front of you. Catching it off guard, you felt the blade go into its chest, the validating sizzle and spasm of light erupting from it letting you know that you had done the job. You, however, couldn’t stop your momentum, and the next few seconds were a total blur as you heard glass shattering and then suddenly you were on the floor and the demon was nowhere to be found. After a few moments of dumbfounded silence, you realized what you had done. 

The boys came to join you as you looked over the edge of the window sill, the cold air biting at your faces as it filtered into the room. You chuckled as you saw your creepy admirer laying face up in the snow, demon blade still lodged in his chest. Dean let out a groan as he realized that he was going to have to make his way through five feet of snow to retrieve it, but you were grinning from ear to ear.

“The hell’s got you so smiley?” Dean asked. “And why’d you run at it like that!? Could’ve gotten yourself killed!” 

You shrugged as you took one last look at your demon friend, and then turned your attention back to Dean. “You know what they say. Defenestration is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off.”

[pegplunkett]

I thought I’d throw a post together with links to my ao3 fics just.. because? idk I somehow have over 200 people following me here so I guess if anyone missed any then here ya go! also thank you all for enabling me even though all I do is thirst post about hamish and make a holy show of myself in the tags

all of these are full on smut, 🔞, like pretty much straight down to business. my attitude to fic is essentially like one of my own unhinged tags - if blorbo isn’t fucking then I’m out. so like, plot? don’t know her.

father paul fics:

my first fic ever! father paul x reader get down to it in the crockett island storage room in have mercy

there’s been lots of ‘fucking in the confessional’ fics written and why? because it’s sexy as hell! so yes, I also have one and it’s called midnight meeting

it’s an exorcism! it’s sexy! it’s a sexorcism! it’s the devil made me do it!

assorted hamish check shirt men:

porter collins hates vegas but maybe a work trip, some chat about bond films and a hotel room visitor will change his mind in knock knock (this one is a sort of reimagining of that v hot scene from paper year, you know the one, but with a non-creep character)

aaand a dicey one about our favourite monster man john tyler, it’s a real dead dove do not eat sitch, warning tags all day long and approach with horny caution for the lesser of two evils

so there you go! pls enjoy! 📁

[deliciouskeys]

Why don't you like Billy using the name John? Just curious

It's okay if you like it! Just a matter of personal taste. If I had to name reasons (this will be a longer answer than you probably wanted, anon):

Forget Billy for a second and think about why Homelander calls himself that in the era of the show. I take it as Homelander rejecting his traumatic past and throwing out his original given name along with it. In a weird way, it's actually a fuck you move to Vought, especially now that they're trying to retcon-humanize him by concocting a story about the childhood they never gave him. He seemed to bristle slightly when Jonah Vogelbaum dropped it on him in S1, and that's from a person who's presumably always used it. I like the strange idea that him embracing Vought branding whole cloth, and never changing outfits is kind of like... embracing/reclaiming a slur in a weird way. Put a pin on that.

So now with Billy! I think Billy using 'John' would be a very specific, deliberate attempt to humanize him, and I'm not sure Billy would be interested in that, not the way things go in most fics. Even when they're happily butchlandering away, and he no longer sees HL as Evil Incarnate, "Homelander" still represents this compound V'ed up Vought Presents Frankenstein's Monster sort of unsettling creature for him. Billy is racist against supes... And I'm not sure that entirely melts away even when he hooks up with them. He'd view calling HL's corporate-devised persona name as a slur of sorts Maybe I have sick preferences, but I kind of enjoy the maintenance of that Othering by Billy, especially since I also can't see HL himself requesting to be called John, let alone insisting on it.

And yes, I know Maeve calls him John at least once (in S3 that I remember), which suggests he was still using it... some years ago in recent memory? Although I'm never sure how long ago they started dating. If Maeve was in her early 20s, that's ~15 years ago.

And yes, blanket caveat, #notallfics, in some fics it totally works. I just don't think it's necessary in as many fics as where I encounter it on AO3, but that's just like, my opinion man.

While I'm at it re AO3. "The Homelander" is a job/status title. So AO3's tags make me lol every time I see "Bottom the Homelander | John", rendering 'bottom' into a demented transitive verb. Which is highly amusing to imagine each time. But I think "The Homelander" = job title. "Homelander" = literally the name he uses. It's a first and last name kind of thing, like Madonna.

Aaaaanyway, no offense meant to anybody who is fond of 'John'. All of the above are definitely subjective, personal HC reasons. Peace on earth!

[diminuel]

So I saw aus of “Sam and Dean are Michael’s sons au” and “Sam is actually Michael but Michael was a female au” and I decided to loosely combine the two. Set in S1-S2 what if Sam and Dean were actually female archangels created by Michael with the help of Chuck charged with protecting the Earth on Heaven’s word but after the whole apocalypse they took their grace out and died and Azazel thinking he would get back at Heaven turned them into human males to hide them so he and his demon buddies could roam the Earth and maybe he could throw over Lucifer and have the power of Hell for himself. But after a while Sam and Dean start to experience strange dreams and not to mention feeling like their slowly dying til they meet the angels and the demons and Lucifer eventually gets Azazel to reveal that Sam and Dean were the angels that were supposed to protect the Earth and that them in human forms will slowly kill them and Michael eventually returns them to their true forms as archangels. How would Sam and Dean try to get used to not being human in the first place? How would they now react to a female form or just being female in general? How would they have to explain they were actually female archangels all along to Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Pastor Jim and even John. (On a side not Dean would sure make a ton of Sailor Moon/Princess serenity references as I imagine she/he secretly loves that anime)

I don't understand what the connection between this scenario and the Sailor Moon is that would make Dean comment on it. (We also have to remember that Dean was born in 1979. Sailor Moon didn't air in the US until 1995, then it got cancelled after two seasons and brought back only in 1997. Now, also remember that this is the 90s, if you miss an episode you have missed it until a rerun was aired. So would he, a 18 year old tune in to watch Sailor Moon on motel TVs for a disjointed story about magical girls? Anyway, that was my little curiosity excursion into wikipedia *lol*)

And I don't know, I'm struggling a bit with the scenario because female angels Sam and Dean (especially Dean) is not exactly in my niche (I'm the girl Cas "specialist"). I feel generally a scenario that leads to Dean and Sam being angels, instead of human, does "unsettle" me to some extent unless it is temporary and they can ultimately chose to be themselves again. I think Dean and Sam would choose humanity or should choose humanity (in order to please me, personally and make the creatives wheels in my brain turn properly. I know this is your fic scenario but if you ask me to answer questions about it I will have to go on canon interpretation and personal preference *lol*)

I don't think they'd enjoy being turned or being forced to turn. It's the same old situation as in the other scenarios. It happens against their will, here it is even linked to the threat of death. And it is not only a turn from human to supernatural but also from male to female body. They're not gonna like that. It's not like they have angelic minds, like Cas for example, who can switch vessels and not think too much about it and not have it affect how he sees himself. (Well, that's also up to interpretation of course.)

And I don't know if they would have to explain much, it's not like this is their personal choice. This is something that was "done" to them, so just saying "this demon messed with us" might be enough and it would probably mobilize their families to "fix it". (Again, with the assumption that we are operating with the underlying assumption of Supernatural that humanity is the goal, that being human is superior to being supernatural. I think whether that is a truth still in this scenario or not determines how the characters would approach being turned (back) into something non human. But I would say it's how it would work for Sam and Dean. They're monster hunters, it is season 1/2. It's pretty black and white still.

[amazing-spiderling]

top 5 asks: fics you've read recently, songs you've played on repeat lately, things you bought yourself on a whim, snacks , things that made you happy in the past few weeks, hopes for the new DD series, fic tropes

SO MANY ASKS AhhHHhh I'll do my best!

Top 5 Fics You've Read Recently:

I have to be honest, I do reread a lot of fic!

The Blinker System - MissMoochy (WIP) : Robot Matt! Robot Matt! Robot MAAAATTTTT!!!

Show Me Your Scars - pogopop : I've read this one a few times. It's got that delightful payoff from the emotional hurt that eventually shifts into acceptance and healing

You're On The List of Things I'll Never Leave Behind - yourbestkeptsecret: Ughhhh, yeah the blip would suck for those left behind but I don't hear a lot of people talking about the pain that comes from adjusting when people's loved ones return to a world they don't recognize. Top shelf feels

A Murder of Crows (A Seduction of Foes) - inkforhumanhands: okay maybe I'm biased bc this was a gift FOR MEEEE but it's also an absolutely baller fic and it has all of my favorite things including Murderdock and Foggy in college and CHRISTMAS and it's just GOOD ok

Bad Moon Rising - 94bottlesofsnapple : A werewolf story that jumps right into things and those things are very, very good. Love Matt's characteristic freak-out and Foggy's no-nonsense way of handling things. Probably going to read this again for spooky season.

Top Five Songs You've Played on Repeat Lately

(I don't know that I do endless loops of songs too often, but songs that have cropped up a lot in the last few weeks include)

Cameo Lover - Kimbra, Dream of You - Jazz Emu, Underneath it All - No Doubt, Skullcrusher Mountain - John Coltrane, Black Sheep - Metric

Top Five Things You Bought Yourself ON a Whim

I'm just gonna speak recently because I cannot remember a whole life's worth of impulse purchases. IDK if it's a pure whim, but a dress I wanted that had been sold out showed up on a used site so I snatched it up. One of my favorite musicians released an LP and I was half asleep in bed scrolling on my phone when I saw the announcement but I jumped out of bed to purchase it lol. Some spice packet to make Thai coconut curry soup. Some used copies of various Rock Band games for the X-Box 360. I've missed being able to go to karaoke and this gives me that little bit of fun back. A "Hero Lawyer" figure? Doll? Idk. 12 fancy offbrand marvel man.

Top Five Snacks

I eat a lot of nuts and seeds. Pumpkin seeds/Sunflower seeds and the like. Sometimes I make them into hummus but usually it's just a handful. I like those Snap Pea crisps in the light salt. I'm a little bit addicted to the garlic Bombay mix I pick up at the local Indian supermarket. Greek yogurt with granola or grapenuts cereal. My favorite movie snack is those terrible nachos. XD

Top Five Things that Made You Happy In The Past Few Weeks

Taking my dogs out to the park now that the weather is cool enough to do so. Being giddy with fandom friends over She-Hulk and Werewolf By Night. Getting to use my Halloween sprinkles to make festive baked goods and take them to a small outdoor tea party. Eating half a baguette with nice butter at a cafe. Beating Rock Band 3 on my own and watching all the avatars I made of my blorbos achieve rock and roll stardom in the FMVs.

Top Five Fic Tropes

Hurt/Comfort, Long distance start (penpals, voice or text only etc), Monsters (vampires, werewolves whatever), Mutual Pining, Character Insecurity

Top Five Hopes For the New DD Season

Kirsten McDuffie! Let's bring in more characters from the comics! Some more wtf villains like (but not limited to) Stilt-Man. I mean, Jessica Jones gave us a version of the Whizzer, I feel like there's room for exploration. More of Matt and Foggy's actual friendship so that if/when things get rough for them, it hurts more. >:) A reference to the events of NWH so we have a little understanding of just what Matt remembers from his involvement so we can throw the fanfic authors a bone. SAMMMMMMYYYY!!!!!

[thewincestgospel]

Wincest and J2 High School Fics

2028 AD by inlustwithsammy 

It's in 2028. Sam and Dean got reincarnated and they have no idea who they were in their past lives. They live a normal life as high school students. They grew up as best friends who live close to each other. Dean is still a playboy. Sam is still a nerd. Some things never change.

a first time for everything by riyku  In which Jared announces that his family is moving, and Jensen suddenly becomes very concerned with time.

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me" by gothpandaotaku

Sam Winchester, the jaded new kid at school. Dean Winchester, the school badass who rides a motorcycle to school every morning. When they collide, sparks fly- the wrong kind. It's hate at first sight. But over time they find they have a lot more in common than they thought...

All The Other Kids  by AureaMediocritas   Dean and Sam roll into another high school. The first weeks through five students' eyes.        

Baby Steps by cherie_morte    AU: Jared is nine years old when his mom marries Jensen's dad.

The Ballad of the Invisible Boy by dollylux   This is a story of adolescence. This is a love letter for the slow burn, for Led Zeppelin, for the 90s. This is the first of two sets of stories about how Sam and Dean didn’t fall in love. They never had to. It was always there, this desperation between them, like a real, breathing thing. When they came together, it was inevitable. As sure as continents colliding, as the phases of the moon and the life and death of stars. This isn’t a love story, but it’s a story of love.SeriesPart 1 of Invisible Boy.

Becoming What We Pretend To Be by locknkey  In a fit of pique Sam brags to his high school friends that he can get Dean as his boyfriend. Dean's never been able to say no to Sam. Pretense is a slippery-slope when you're romancing your brother and it's all too easy to for the lines between what's real and what's fake to become blurred.

Bend and Break by Winmance  If Jared had to describe his life, he would say that his life is lonely. Between the bullying and his parents lack of interest, the only true joy he has is Jensen, the baseball player with who he's having sex. But everybody has a limit and Jared is about to find out his own.

Best Birthday Ever by ballsdeepinwinchesters prompted for: w[ee]cestiel + bottom!Sam For Sam’s sixteenth birthday, he only asked for one thing. He didn’t want a car, or money, or even a dog (Dean hates dogs). All Sam wanted was to get f***** by Dean and his friend, Cas.

Bitchface No.5 by bookworm1805   There's a new kid in school and Sam is being a bitch, but Dean doesn't see how the two things are related.5 stars

The Craziest Thing by thefourofswords  Sam and Dean find themselves de-aged back to 18. The only solution anybody seems to have is to go back to high school.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Flagstaff by  Linden  John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

Go, Dean... by orphan_account  Prompt: Teenage Dean joining the football team and Sammy cheering him in the stands, Dean calling him his little cheerleader and making him wear the outfit while he rides his big brother... How's that for enduring football?

“Thought you wanted to be my little cheerleader, Sammy,' Dean said, tossing the gathered supplies onto the bed and crawling back between Sam’s legs. His lips sealed themselves to Sam’s, and he kissed him breathlessly. 'Loved watching you bounce up and down out on the field, everyone watching you, wishing you were theirs.'”

Good as New  by  sixtysevenlmpala  When an asshole at Dean and Sam's high school breaks Dean's amulet, he doesn't react well. But as always, Sam's there to make it better.

Hope You Don't Mind by compo67  Jared has no problems being an introvert in a family of extroverted women. He enjoys his alone time as a freshman in high school... that is until signs for prom start showing up. With both his sisters going, he begins to wonder if maybe his time alone is a little lonely.

I'll Give You What You Like by soulmatecest Jared is, by all means, the worst cheerleader in the world.He absolutely fucking sucks; Jensen’s not even sure how he made it to the cheer squad and why would anyone take a look to his really bad dancing moves and still think ‘oh yeah, we definitely need to get some of that for the team.’Jared is honestly a disaster at this.And yet, Jensen has done pretty much nothing apart from staring at him most of the game as Jared dances terribly in a short skirt. Because even if Jared sucks, he’s also the most beautiful omega Jensen has ever seen.

The Jock and The Nerd by JuniperLemon  Unrelated Wincest High School AU. Sam and Dean go to the same school. Dean asks the school nerd, Sam, on a date. Little do they know that it'll lead to so much more. Is there more behind Sam than what meets the eye and how will John react to Dean's bisexuality?

Kiss Me by lotrspnfangirl  Worst case scenario: Jensen would be freaked out and spend the next three weeks until graduation, completely avoiding Jared and not speaking to him. And as much as that would hurt… It was only a dollar to get a kiss from Jensen at the kissing booth.

Little Pieces by compo67 Jensen the Bad Influence is better known as the town hellraiser. He stays out late, skips class, and takes bets on chess games after school. His partner in crime happens to be Jared, raised in a strict Catholic-Protestant household, and reigning chess champion. Together, they've skimmed five hundred dollars from their classmates with no end in sight.If they can survive high school, conquering the rest of the world must be a piece of cake.It just happens that the world has something else in store for them--something no one planned for in a million years.

Mr High School by  kinkylittlered This is for a bingo competition on livejournal. Each chapter has prompts. AU Sam is a popular boy in high school and Dean is an invisible boy who is coming to terms with his sexuality. Each chapter will have different warning, eventually leading to slash

Putting On A Show by BewareTheIdes15  Lightning fast Dean's grin slants into sly and Sam's stomach lurches hard enough that his lungs get jealous and jump in on the action. Without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction for approval, Dean lifts one shoulder and says, "I'll make out with Sam."

Say the Words by dollylux  A new boy rolls into town, and Jensen Notices. (And... his girlfriend notices him noticing.)

Touch and Go by versaillesatnight  Dean Winchester doesn’t date. He fucks around, sure, but the whole dating thing? He’s never seen the appeal. Enter Sam.

Verses Like Yours and Mine by rivers_bend Sam and Dean are regular brothers--no hunting, no demons--who fall in love anyway.

White Knight by echoes_of_another_life  Jensen is a senior and protects shy freshman Jared, who is being bullied.

Worth It by saltandbyrne Turns out the only thing more uncomfortable than sitting through class with a half-woody and a pair of panties wedged up your ass is doing it while your panties are soaking wet from your brother's mouth.(Sam is 14).

You Didn't Listen When You Went To School by Posse Magnet (rhink_is_my_kink)  The kids at school know the new Winchester brothers are different. Everything about them is strange. From the way Dean effortlessly completes any physical challenge that gym class can throw at him without even breaking a sweat. To the way Sam is the smartest kid in all his classes, even though he's a freshman, and all his classes are college-level and full of seniors. But the most peculiar thing about the Winchesters, the thing that everyone notices: the way they come tumbling out of empty classrooms, closets, bathroom stalls, untidy hair, messy clothes, cheeks flushed with a color that’s almost as intense as the color of their lips.

you're a real f*ing page-turner by  grace_fully Jared's days pretty much all run together, one big muddy mess of emotional turmoil and confusion and shitty friends and shittier classes. not to mention that his best friend is equal parts awesome and a complete jerk, his little sister is also kind of a jerk, and he thinks privately that someday his books are going to be the only thing to stand by him in the end. luckily, life has a way of turning things around on him.

Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell by sonofabiscuit77 While the Winchesters are living in a small-town trailer park, sixteen year old Sam accidentally spies on his brother with an older man. The discovery triggers feelings in Sam that lead him and Dean down a path which will change their lives forever.