#belated happy birthday Wire

[nocturnalrorobin]

THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT

Wire x f! Reader

CW: Size difference, degradation kink (only some), p in V, Anal, oral (giving), DP, Breeding kink, Sir kink, aftercare

Minors DNI

“Fuuuck.” Wire moaned, tightening the grip on your hair while you took all of his massive cock with your mouth. “You are such a whore for my cock.” His degradation was sending pleasure through your core. Your tongue swirled around the veiny cock as your cheeks hollowed out. “Don't forget about my second dick though.” He moved your hands from one to the other and you immediately began stroking him. At this point, Wire was fucking your face erratically, but just before he came he pulled out and hot streaks of cum from both cock covered your tits.

With a big grin on his face, he used his index finger to write “Happy Birthday to me”. “That stays on there baby girl. Got that?” He cupped your face and as you only nodded he pinched your cheek. “Words.” He commanded.

“Yes sir.” Pleased with the answer he kissed you roughly. Your wet muscles dancing together though he dominated. His hands went down to your pussy and ass. The left hand made sure to use enough slick from you as a lubricant as he started penetrating your tight ring with one finger while simultaneously two fingers of the right hand were pumping into your pussy. You rolled your hips and whined. The initial sting in your ass subsided, he added a second finger and started scissoring your hole to add some more stretch. He could feel you getting restless. “Please Wire. Sir. I want you in me.” You whined against his chest.

SLAP! He retracted his finger from your ass, to spank you hard your ass. “Be patient, my little cock sleeve and stop being a brat!” A third finger entered your dripping wet pussy as his other hand went back to stretching your ass. The movements of his hands increased and the thumb of his right hand was rolling over your clit bringing you quickly over the edge. You collapsed against his chest knowing full well this was just the start. “What's your color?” He gently pinched your thighs to get your attention.

“Green Sir. Please don't stop, fill me up.” you begged laying yourself on the back as he pushed your legs next to your ears.

“Oh I'm gonna fill you all right. I'm gonna breed you until your body can't take it anymore.” Wire sneered down at you as he lined up his cocks. Making sure again to use your slick as lubricant he penetrated you with both at the same time. “Relax or you will snap one of them off.” He commanded.

He began moving with a slow pace to not hurt you after all it was a big size difference and you were stretched to your limit. As you got used to it he picked up the pace and got rougher while leaving bite marks all over your neck. “Hnnng Sir…” your hips kept rolling in rhythm with his brutal pacing. He roughly bit your lip as he wanted to kiss you and you stretched out your tongue so he could suck on it.

Suddenly his pace became erratic and brutal. All you could hear was skin slapping against skin and both your moaning sounds. He kept hitting that spot deep inside and even though he would punish you later you couldn't take it anymore and came. You screamed his name so loud the whole ship surely heard it all while he still kept going at a brutal pace. “Come on, be a good girl, and give me one more.” He grunted using his hand to press into your clit and it didn't take long for pleasure to wash over both of you collapsing into each other's arms.

After he caught his breath he got up and came back with a damp washing cloth, he started at your intimate zone to make sure nothing was hurt and continued to wipe away the rest of the cum on your breast. “Are you in any pain or otherwise uncomfortable?” He caressed your back.

“No love, just exhausted and my muscles might be sore tomorrow.” You reassured him.

“Well I'll draw us a bath and get you something to drink, but first you should go to the toilet if you don't want a UTI.” He picked you up, looked into your eyes, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for this lovely present. You did great my baby girl.

[nelle-y]

Revived Flames pt. 1

Synopsis: You and Wriothesley had always been close with each other, but since he started working more hours in the fortress, it seems that connection is fading…

C/W: Wriothesley x gn!reader, slight angst (it aint there yet but it’s coming!), fiance!Wriothesley, literally one paragraph is suggestive, slightly proofread

Note: this was kinda hard to write, I couldn’t think of anything so this one’s a bit short

—

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Almost a year has passed since you’ve seen Wriothesley, now. It was unfair, being apart from the love of your life, the ache in your chest tearing you to shreds as days flew by.

There were times, however, when your heart would waltz into revived flames when he wrote to you—much like today, your birthday.

The greatest gift of all, just a sliver of him to embrace; you eagerly approached your mailbox. A white envelope hid inside, a postage stamp to your address at the back along with a drawing of the Fortress of Meropide decorating it. You opened the letter to read its contents, almost tripping your way inside your home.

“My dearest Y/N,

May the archons bring you the happiest of birthdays. Every morning I wake, I always find myself fondling for your warmth.”

Oh, fondling. You’re riled up from imagining it—his hands grasping the sheets as he urged closer to rapture—biting a swirk from your face.

He asks about the events you’ve come across, if you had any new friends and so on. He updates you on his life at the fortress, how Sigewinne has been getting along with the inmates, and how much he misses you.

“Though I may not be with you today, I will be in two weeks time. The Iudex has granted me a short vacation after celebrating the 25th anniversary of the Fortress of Meropide. So, prepare your finest clothes, my dear, for I will be taking you to the finest restaurant in town. I intend to make up for lost time, if you’ll allow me.”

Of course you’ll allow it! Your heart leaps with joy as a childish smile paints your cheeks. You press the letter against your chest and sigh.

The ink from your pen bleeds through the paper as you ponder your response. Should you even? The post office takes several days—maybe a week or two—to send a letter. He would already be with you by the time it reaches his office. You wouldn’t want to be impolite, though. Maybe you should write back; there’s nothing wrong with responding to your fiancé.

After all, you were always close with each other.

—

Two weeks have passed since your birthday. You have no idea if he’s even received your letter; the postal office was always understaffed, there were only so few mailmen to deliver thousands of packages.

You mentioned you would be waiting at the Fountain of Lucine the day of his arrival, so there was where you sat. You waited, and waited… and waited… and waited. Your dolled up hair was starting to lose its shape from the heat, sweat forming on your forehead from anticipation.

After a few minutes, your fiance finally made his way to your view. As you remembered: pools of blue shaded the same eyes, strands of grey highlighted the same dark hair. It’s Wriothesley! Him and his foxy smirk.

“Wriothesley!”

“Y/N!”

Your name sounds so fresh and new with his voice, especially after all this time. You reach for a hug, but he leans for a kiss. This leads to a struggle of whether to kiss or hug. After some ohs and uhms, you finally settle with a small embrace—his arms on your waist and yours around his neck. You let go after he kisses you on the cheek.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smile.

There’s a silence you weren’t used to feeling with Wriothesley. Usually, silence would be comfortable, but this felt… off? Like you were brand new acquaintances. You desperately search for conversation, only to be interrupted by him, “Oh, happy belated birthday!” He hands you a trinket made of wires and mechanical parts. “Sigewinne made this for you.”

“Awh, it’s adorable! Tell her I said thank you.”

He nods, smiling at you. The silence takes over once again. What now? “Shall we head off?” He picks up his luggage.

“Where?” You look at him cluelessly.

“…I actually don’t know.”

“Maybe we could go home, and drop off your stuff?”

“Yes, of course.”

So you went home—the walk to the Navia Line was silent, fingers itching to intertwine. Again and again, your pinkies were nearly touching, and your shoulders were inches away from brushing. The desire was there, and you both yearned for this moment, so why weren’t you seizing it?

“How was the celebration at the fortress?” You ask, sat beside him on the aquabus, Elphane giving her tour for the other passengers.

“It was so-so. The only thing that changed was the food—Tasses Ragout, lasagna, macarons, and local sodas. Other than that, business was usual that day.”

“Ah,” should you express sympathy for the lack of celebration? Did Wriothesley even expect a fancy party? Was he sad about it? It’s difficult to read his face now, it’s gone more stoic than you remember. You say nothing after that, and he doesn’t ask any questions. Not a word was said the rest of the ride.

-to be continued-

Note: Okay I know this isn’t much but IDK HOW TO CONTINUE THISSSS!!! I’ve been working on it for MOTNHS. Maybe leave ideas in my inbox and I’ll try to cook smthn up pls I can’t waste this good plot TT (make sure to leave your usernames so I can tag you in the credits if you want)

[nintendroid]

Happy belated birthday to the Nintendo 64, released in North America on September 29th making it 28 years old!

No other console I've owned gives me the nostalgia bug like the N64. I have so many stories of the adventures I had with it I could almost write a book. Maybe someday I will, but for right now let's talk about how you can celebrate Nintendo's most unappreciated console. We'll look at some modern software, some underappreciated games you should play and some cool N64 oddities. (NOTE: None of the items mentioned are sponsored. I just really dig the products)

Essential Hardware:

Brawler 64 Controller!

Available wired or wireless, the Brawler is for players who want to play the N64 with a more modern controller. I bought one some years back and have been nothing but satisfied with it. Check out my original review here. Shop here.

The Everdrive 64!

A cartridge capable of storing every N64 game EVER! Not just official games either, but fan-made game mods too! An absolute must if you're hardcore into N64 gaming. It should be noted, there are cheaper alternatives out there, but the rumor is that they can fry your console. KRIKzz-brand Everdrive's are known for their quality and for my money I want something that's not going to ruin my hardware. Check out my original review here. Shop here.

Underrated Games: Even with such a short library, there are good N64 games that don't have the Nintendo or Rare label on them. These aren't all of them, but here's a few that pop up in my mind when I think of the topic of underappreciated N64 games. Yes, some of these are ports but the N64 ports are the way I experienced them and I still prefer the N64 versions.

Duke Nukem: Zero Hour

In my opinion, the best sequel to Duke 3D. Don't let the 3rd-person perspective deter you, this is an authentic Duke Nukem game. Go through time shooting zombies, aliens, Jack the Ripper and send those alien scum packing. Duke's sense of humor is present, even under Nintendo's famous censorship guidelines.

Road Rash 64

A motorcycle racing game where you clobber the other racers with pipes, crowbars and plungers while avoiding the cops. It's so awesome and features one of the greatest songs Sugar Ray ever put out.

40 Winks

It was cancelled at 99% complete in the N64's heyday but publishing company Piko Interactive bought the rights and gave it an official release in 2019. While not what I would call a "classic" It's still a fun game to play over a weekend. As mentioned in my original review, it reminds me of a 3D adaptation of Nightmare on Elmstreet for NES.

007 - The World Is Not Enough

While not quite known as it's big brother, TWINE is a fun FPS Bond game in its own right. Eurocom (who developed Duke Nukem Zero Hour and 40 Winks!) knew they wasn't going to top Rare's iconic Goldeneye, but they did their best and it shows. The one advantage TWINE has over Goldeneye is multiplayer bots so you can play multiplayer because you don't have friends willing to come over because you're a 35-year-old father of two with a mortgage and 9-to-5.

Mods: The modding scene on the N64 is opening up and as a result we're getting some quality titles that extends the life of our favorite system. The one's mentioned here can be played on your actual N64 with the assistance of an Everdrive.

Smash Remix

Everyone collectively loves the original Super Smash Bros, but we can all agree it's pretty barebones in terms of content. Smash Remix fixed that with tons of new N64-era appropriate character additions, new levels, gameplay modes, music, costume changes and MORE. Phenomenal mod if you're a Smash 64 fan.

Shotgun Mario

Its Super Mario 64 but he has a shotgun. Fun for a laugh but adds a fun new mechanic to a classic. No more hoppin-and-boppin, Mario is here to dispense justice!

AKI-engine Wrestling Game Mods

I know most of you reading this aren't wrestling fans but the N64 had some iconic wrestling games thanks to Japanese studio AKI. Fans have been making mods for the AKI-developed titles like WWF No Mercy, Virtual Pro Wrestling 64, WCW vs NWO World Tour ect for years. It's hard to choose just one and each game has a wealth of characters, new arenas, match stipulations, create a wrestler options and much more.

Weirdo N64 Products: Any other time I would have 100 things to list but this is all I could find in the short time I have.

N64 Shirt!

Yes this bad boy is official. What other officially licensed shirt has Fox McCloud and a stormtrooper on it? In modern times, your best luck of finding something like this would be in a midwestern flea market.

Bill Goldberg Memory Card!

WCW legend Bill Goldberg had a memory card for some reason. I'm not complaining because it's awesome. Nothing I would love more than looking down after losing races in Diddy Kong to see big Bill yelling at me, motivating me to be a champion.

In conclusion: The N64 is a flawed but legendary console - it's popular but underrated, widely-known but intimate. My wishlist for the future is more awesome game mods of well known titles AND lesser known titles (let's fix Superman 64 or Carmageddon!). If you read this far, I hope this got you in the mood to play some N64.

[keyofjetwolf]

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SORRY I MISSED THE DAY STILL LOVE ME PLEASE 😂😅😝

Also also I remember! Hope you had an especially great treat!

No but look!

YOU MADE IT UNDER THE WIRE YAY TIME ZONES

Thank you! My birthday is rarely my favourite of days, so I particularly appreciate the smile you gave me.

[touloserlautrec]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! It's Valentine's Day, or a similarly romantic occasion, how do your characters celebrate? (I'd love to hear about the unattached characters just as much as the ones in relationships.)

Happy belated STS! I'm still slowly catching up, but I'm getting this one in just under the wire for Valentine's Day!

While I'm sure there are some characters in Sunset who go all in for Valentine's Day (I'm looking at you, Emmett-- he's probably covered in glitter and planning the perfect dinner for Penn even as we speak), once we hit volume 2, most people are too busy keeping themselves alive to be bothered with conversation hearts.

But! In the SolCorp Academy, Valentine's Day is part of the curriculum! Academy kids aren't allowed to leave the building until they graduate because if you're in the Academy, it's very likely that you or your knack are too volatile to be out in the world without adequate training. So they have a class called "Cultural Integrations," which is, as you might imagine, an awkward festival of sheltered kids learning about things like pep rallies, birthdays, grandparents, and, you guessed it-- holidays.

Rafe (the head of Terre and principal of the Academy) and Logan (the vice principal) spend Valentine's day helping the kids make valentines, pass out candy, have a school dance, and buy each other carnations. And also trying to enforce strict rules against student dating. RIP them. (Rafe goes home to his wife, who takes pity on his long day, and they spend the evening eating his favorite takeout and canoodling, I am sure. Logan, on the other hand, is likely to go find a friend to unwind with--this may or may not involve further canoodling).

[trissaysmoi]

August 25th, Sunday

Moi!

I took this day gently even though I still have so many thoughts that I'll type in my new essay later.

It's my monthly dental appointment today. I was so pissed while on the way to the clinic because the minibus dropped me beyond my stop despite telling the conductor that I was about to get off the vehicle.

But I felt better when my favourite orgmates greeted me a belated happy birthday. They're the sweetest ever.

I had my braces adjusted and I chose a purple band this time. It looks so cute.

I think my dentist replaced the wire which made my teeth feel heavier than usual. My teeth also tend to ache every after my adjustment, so I get myself a frozen yogurt to ease the pain. I also bought my meds while on the way home.

I still have a few hours to spare tonight so I'm going to quickly clean the camera and prepare my things for the coverage tomorrow. Wishing myself good luck!

[eirenical]

Happy (belated?) Birthday!! I hope you have (or had!) an excellent day!

You made it under the wire by almost 20 minutes. ;D

And thank you! I really did have an excellent day! 😊😊😊

[fictionsbypandorakiin]

Happy Birthday, Babe

Happy belated birthday, Dean. Many, many happy returns.

---

Dean stared, captivated by his lips. The safety seal on their new bottle snapped as Dean twisted it off, tossing it aside. His fingers returned to Cas’ mouth, laden but not dripping, with coconut oil. Two fingers lay down on his lips, rocking tenderly back and forth across them. Mouth falling open a little, Cas inhaled softly. His lips were tingling. Dean’s fingers came up to his eyes and, giving the edge of his eyelids decent berth, massagingly swiped an oily crescent into the loose skin underneath his eyes. The wear and cares of Cas’ vessel’s journey through space and time showed. “Close ‘em,” Dean murmured. He did, and Dean rose against him, his soft lips delicately placing a butterfly kiss on each eyelid, holding his head gently in his heated hands.

Another second and the moment was gone. Dean wiped an arc of oil above his eye, then went back to the oil bottle and came back with more for the other side. He closed his eyes again, unbidden. Dean’s fingers, tender and careful, worked oil into his skin.

After long seconds without another touch from Dean, Cas blinked open his eyes, groggy and disoriented by pleasure. Dean stood there against him, his hungry gaze roving around his fresh face, settling onto Cas’ mouth, his hand slipping down his own cheeks, fingertips grazing over his lips. With that, he did himself in.

Dean and his kiss full-body fell onto him, shaving tools and toothbrushes clattering into the sink as a careless hand swept behind his back and pulled him in tight with his whole forearm. Dean’s other arm went low and held onto his hip from behind on the side opposite where it came from, pressed into him hard, holding their hips and the standing cocks between, together. He licked at the underside of the tongue in his mouth, and the sound Dean made… surprised, like he’d been struck by a live wire. Dean laid his tongue out for Cas to lave at. The feeling might as well have welded their mouths together.

Cas took it all in: the feeling of their naked faces coming together, how their chests and stomachs swelled for each other, the straining of Dean’s unsteady legs as his hips worked their cocks into one another, his throat uttering sounds luscious as the smell of his body. Eyes opening, he watched Dean’s expression morph between a painful frown and blissful pleasure. The counter creaked under their weight. The seraph shuddered as something in him snapped.

A powerful ache swelled in his chest. He got his hands and arms underneath Dean’s, clamped a hand under both ass cheeks, pulled and lifted. The shocked grunt and pleasured gasp and sigh Dean made, staring at him wide-eyed, put a smile on the angel’s lips. With a forceful thrust of his hips, Cas stood them up off the counter and walked Dean back against the wall. His arms and hands came up behind Dean’s back and head to spare him the pain of impact.

His kiss sealed onto Dean’s lips, and he liquefied in his arms. Dean, pinioned by Cas’ arms under his armpit and beside his chest, couldn’t fall. All he could do was float on ecstasy to wherever Cas wanted him. If Cas wanted his leg aside to get a thigh up there for Dean to ride, so it was. If the hand on the back of his head laid him over to one side because Cas wanted the delicate skin under his jaw and ear, travelling down the side of his neck more than his mouth, so be it.

“Fuck .” It came out high and helpless.

“Hmn?” The sweet, smooth sound oozed out of the angel like dark, melted chocolate. Dean’s heart jumped in his chest. He had the distinct impression he was about to get fucked.

“We can’t… not righ… hmmmn!” Cas stood up against him, tall as he could, shutting him up with a kiss. When it was done, Dean was shivering in his arms, lips hanging open against his as he breathed in pants, eyes open in awe but eyelids heavy with lust.

Dean looked on in disbelief as Cas began to sink to his knees. Almost on instinct, he caught Cas behind the arms and stopped him. Some base, primal part of his brain hadn’t gone offline yet and latched onto the drive for self-preservation before it could be overridden. With the look on Cas’ face questioning whether he should stop, Dean shook his head, his mouth already not doing well on forming words. Looking about them desperately quick, he snatched the dry towel off the bathroom door coat hook.

When he turned back, Cas had his pants and boxers down below his groin, rolling a condom on his standing-stiff penis. Hadn’t even thought of that. Dean smiled. Coaxing Cas backward, he spread the towel where the angel would kneel. Couldn’t go out into town wearing evidence he’d been on his knees that morning or folks might get some ideas he preferred they didn’t. Cas looked him in the eye, and Dean barely managed to nod. He wished like crazy Cas had taken a second for one last kiss before he got down on his knees, but his fly came down, his briefs and slacks were out of the way a second or two later by the grace of the angel’s deft hands, and… sweet fuckin’ mercy . The weakeningly hot, saliva-rich environment of Cas’ loving mouth took him in, and he was done for. Thought went offline in favor of feeling. Dean locked his knees: damned things were feeling unreliable already…

Cas let his cock leave his mouth, hand coming up underneath his balls, holding them up, massaging his penis with them—or maybe the other way around. Getting his nose, lips and tongue into a rhythm that nuzzled in, loving the spine of his erection, hard and suckling, migrating up… along the seam of his sack to where his skin became looser, looser… and looser. He thanked his lucky stars he’d thought to shave his balls clean in the shower this morning. His testicle popped through the angel’s lips into his mouth. “Hngh!”

Cas had his other hand beneath his hard-on, the washboard of his curled-down fingers pressing up hard and wandering back and forth along the underside of his cock. Rocking his hips down hard, chasing better pleasure, he punctuated each roll with a small, quick thrust forward. Cas tongued and sucked at the ball in his mouth like he expected it to burst and spill sweetness into his mouth. “Hu-ohhh…!” Dean’s breath tripped over itself on the in and the out. Castiel looked up. Licking his slack lips, Dean let a hand fall to caress and comb through Cas’ hair—it had dried naturally into these handsome, tight, bouncing curlicues—nodding.

Eyes falling closed, Dean’s ass tensed, and legs jerked when Cas sent his fingers up, pressing up his erection’s spine. The angel’s thumb circled through slick precum, dribbling down as it passed through the cleft, up and around his weeping head. Dean let his head knock back against the wall, falling to one side, eyes rolling under his fluttering eyelids. Discomfort disappeared under an avalanche of pleasure and had him uttering plaintive, wrecked sounds. Cas’ hand slid up his stomach and stayed there, petting up and down as he licked and sucked at Dean’s nut like a lollipop. Satisfied he’d stoked pleasure there hot enough, Cas drew back off it. Dean shivered as much from the caress and slide of Cas’ tongue and lips as he did from having his ball wrapped up in the scorching heat of Cas’ mouth one moment, wet and naked to the open air the next.

As though reading his mind, Cas’ hand slid down from his stomach and cradled his free ball, keeping it close and warm against his body as the angel gave the other even more enthusiastic treatment. “Guh… agh!” Cas fucking smiled with his testicle in his mouth. Dean let out a helpless, incredulous laugh along with him. Shimmying his hips ever so slightly, back and forth down onto Cas’ knuckles and up into the hand smoothing copious precum all over his cockhead, he groaned. Without release, the only thing the ache of teasing would do was get worse.

His head wobbled on his neck as his hand combed through Cas’ hair, laying down soothing, circling strokes to the angel’s scalp with thumb and fingers as he slowly sent his caress ‘round the back of Cas’ head. Not to force him in closer—deeper—but to try and love him back not even half as well as he wanted to, but as full well as he could.

Cas suckled and pulled on his nut hard. Pulling back, Dean’s legs shivered when it fell from his mouth with a sucking pop. Cas nuzzled into the tender space between his leg and pelvis, beside the thicket of his pubic hair, laying down licking, siphoning kisses that tugged at his skin, some of them sure to leave color behind. Dean slapped his hand down on the bathroom counter. He’d almost gone down when his knee on that leg decided to betray him.

“C’mon, man… please !” Dean didn’t care how pathetic he sounded. Cas planted his mouth against his dick’s spine and started forcefully lapping his way up to the tip, keeping the throbbing column pressed against the tickling hairs on his stomach, meaning to take it inside once he got there. Every slow lash of Cas’ tongue brought the breeze of his breath with it, hot and cold at the same time. Dean’s hips juddered in pleasure, a loud whine spilling from his lips, partly from the crackling twinge of a fiery nerve, partly from the realization of what Cas was doing; following a copious precum trail up his penis and saving, not swallowing it, to better love the length of him when the time came.

If it took much longer to get there, Dean was sure he would end up spilling himself all over the seraph’s face, hair, shoulders and chest, and they’d have to spend the day cleaning their only dress clothing instead of out in town looking for answers. As fuckin’ hot as that flashbulb possibility was, Cas’ tongue quickly lapped down the edge of his foreskin from the cleft on one side, then the other, took him in, laying his cockhead down to bathe in the pool of precum and saliva his tongue was swimming in, and nothing else mattered.

The euphoria of relief flooded and slackened him from head to toe, a wrecked sigh escaping his lips. If not for the decent tread on his shoes, his feet would have slipped right out from under him, leaving him gracelessly sliding down the wall to land on his ass. Thank, uh… you-know-who, for small mercies. Cas chuckled, the sound layered over his moans, bobbing contently on the cock in his mouth without missing a beat. Dean wanted a kiss from him, something fierce right then, but opted against it; that meant Cas swallowing everything in his mouth.

Cas’ hands lay on either side of his dick, fingers splayed wide, holding his balls up underneath his body heat, thumb and forefingers both holding his dick steady, his thumbs stroking it underneath his balls in turns. Cas’ whole body rocked in service to moving his mouth on his cock. When Cas added a brisk twist of his mouth to every stroke, he couldn’t breathe steadily anymore. Moans stuttered in his throat, his forearms and hands flailed, having no idea what to do with themselves. One moment his hands wanted to be touching Cas, the next, they wanted to be hiding his face, running fingers back through his hair, or holding Cas’ hand around his cock. Unable to decide, they danced awkwardly in the air until his arms wrapped themselves over his head for him to lay his face into and muffle the sounds he made.

His elbows falling straight out to his side, Dean’s body went into a taut, shuddering arch, and Cas knew he was close. Slowing his mouth’s work, Cas’ hand wrapped around Dean’s dick, holding enough of his length that when he took his cock deep as he comfortably could, his nose rested atop his fingers, and there he stayed longer than Dean hoped, relaxed, breathing in the flavourful scent of him on his hands and in his mouth. Cas’ tongue kept moving, pawing at the underside of his head quick and firm, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He brought an arm in, laying his eyes into the crook of his elbow, only to be reminded by how badly his arm and hand were trembling just how good what Cas was doing to him felt.

Cas didn’t have to lock eyes with him. He knew how well pleasured Dean was by the sound of his voice, the chaos in his body and the way his sack and the ripe organs inside writhed, lifting up off his thumb in the moments when pleasure was best. He moved his hand to cradle and knead Dean’s balls. Paying careful attention, he changed the rhythm of his mouth and tongue to go hard at where Dean seemed to like it best—short, quick strokes right around his head—and sucked at it as well as he could.

The nerve in his dick sparked and fizzled to life. “Cas…” Dean sobbed it out quietly on the last breath he had before he needed to inhale. He took Cas’ head in his hands to gently coax him off, give him time to get a damned condom on. Cas, though, he was determined . “Cas! Han… nguh!” Small, fast, firm strokes to his cockhead destroyed his ability to form words. Time… no time. He had to get a condom on, or…! He reached for their toiletries bag; he knew they still had condoms in the side pocket. Castiel seized his wrist with an iron grip, pinning it to the wall. “Ah!” The pain was blunt and dull, and… a feeling came with it he took to way easier than he’d ever admit.

Fearfully wide-eyed, he snapped his head down to look at Cas, trying to say something—anything—before he couldn’t restrain himself. It dawned on him; Cas didn’t want him to. He intended to…! “I’m…!” Too late. He couldn’t get “cumming” out before his throat and chest seized, wrapped in the chains of ecstasy, leaving him breathless. Cas’ grip on his wrist moved softly to his hand, their fingers intertwining, as Dean did everything he could to keep his hips from roughly thrusting into his lover’s mouth. His hand writhed in Cas’ steady grasp, hips and legs quivered; as though his climax needed to move him and if the hips wouldn’t, this was the alternative.

Looking down, chest heaving, he watched as Cas let his head slide out one side of his lips, putting the cum coating on his tongue, filling his mouth, on display. Letting Dean see it as another small spurt of white swelled in the eye of his penis and dripped down Cas’ chin from the corner of his mouth before welcoming him back inside with his tongue. Dean’s hand heavily came down on Cas’ shoulder, wrapping his hand and forearm around his angel’s head, fingers combing lovingly through his hair.

He hadn’t cum this hard for this long for someone’s mouth in his life, and Cas… he just stayed there, eyes closed, relaxed, and content, drinking him down as he pulled tightly on his dick with lips, tongue and hand for whatever could be squeezed and sucked out for himself.

The angel matched the stroked of his mouth to his hand on his own cock, dizzy for their pleasures echoing each other. His precum’s heat spreading down the length of the condom approximated the feeling of a mouth—or inside a human body—well enough. His hand on his dick was on fire. Dean’s hands took hold of his head, fingers combing his hair, fingertips pressing massagingly into his scalp when he drew back and caressing gently when he took Dean’s penis deep. Nerves where his head met his neck burned with pleasure. The feeling arced up to the crown of his head, down his back, his chest swelling. Jumping again, the bolt of sensation struck him where his pleasure was stoked highest. Blinking water from his eyes and moaning Dean’s name, the sound muffled entirely by the cumming flesh in his mouth, Cas reached a hand underneath his sack, riding his fingers with a few sharp thrusts.

Dean looked on, dumbstruck, as Cas’ dick flexed harder, veins standing out better, and the condom swelled at the head with white. His free hand latched onto Dean’s butt cheek, and for a euphoric few seconds, he took Dean deep enough he could feel the angel’s throat working to swallow around his dick. Backing off to a place of comfort, Cas settled himself, shuttling his mouth on Dean’s cock in time with the flares of his orgasm.

The will to stay standing caved, and Dean slid down the wall. Letting Dean’s penis leave his mouth with a parting caress of tongue had Dean quietly yelping out wordlessly. As Cas wiped stray cum and saliva away from his mouth with his forearm, Dean’s slide turned into a fall when his arm hit the critical angle that left him without the strength to brace on the bathroom counter and control his descent. Cas latched onto the edge of the counter as he came down on his knees awkwardly, his face falling into the fragrant basket of Cas’ neck and shoulder, warm and sweating, still fresh and smooth from shaving. Fuck, if it wasn’t a wonderful damned feeling.

Cas lifted him with one arm wrapped around him like he weighed nothing, and in those scant few moments, he sorted his legs out comfortably. Cas held him close as they rocked together, revelling in the floaty sleepiness that orgasm brought. Cas laid his head down on Dean’s as they drifted, eyes closed, breathing deep but soft. He felt it when Dean’s breathing hitched as he lay with his head and arm cradled between the angel’s shoulder and cheek. Cas swept his hand in soothing strokes over Dean’s back. Eyes watering, Dean’s stare went through and beyond the bathroom wall, anchored to here and now only by the feeling of Cas around him, under him, and riding out his own twinges of fizzling pleasure as Dean rolled and tugged the condom off him without having to look, his hand gently wandering between their softening penises.

Sated as he was, something low in Dean’s gut ached like never before. “Fuck me,” he whispered as a shiver of pleasure shook him from head to toe. He backed away slowly when Cas went rigid his grasp, but no farther than he needed to look the angel in the eye. The nude, innocent hope on Cas’ face was heartbreaking. He couldn’t take the whole nine from the jump the way Cas had, but fingers… maybe, and go from there.

“Dean…”

Chuffing out a breath, Dean donned a crooked smile. He couldn’t believe it either. “The need’s so bad it hurts.”

Castiel understood. Wrapping him up in both arms, the seraph kissed him like a man who could eat, drink, and fuck all he wanted but still starve. Because of rather than despite his love’s taste in the angel’s mouth, his tongue dove in, mercilessly caressing Cas’ until he had no breath left. His whole body went slack in his angel’s grasp. Despite trying to recover, he stayed there with his lips and nose leaned into Cas’, his head wobbling on his neck, stealing another butterfly kiss whenever he had the breath, strength, and wherewithal to do it.

“Not now, but…”

“Later,” Cas rumbled out, his voice quivering and rocky.

Nodding with half his face still buried in Cas’, Dean breathed, “Yeah .” Taking in a breath deeper than he had for a while, Dean dropped his head onto Cas’ shoulder, giving it a clearing shake. “Fuck. Now I gotta… how the fuck am I supposed to act like…”

Cas started laughing and grinning, his arms holding him tighter.

“Shut it, jackass.”

Which only had the seraph laughing harder. As Cas’ laughter petered out, he quietly blurted, “Thank you.”

Dean looked at him, baffled. Was a goddamn angel thanking him for…? No. The… uh, ahem, the shave. Shaving, that was what Cas meant. Had to be…

Cas leaned in close, speaking into his ear from deep in his chest. “Both.”

Dean’s face, still flush with the blood rush of sex, bloomed scarlet all the way back to his ears and down his neck. Dean’s impassioned kiss took Cas by surprise and kept him there until it was done. Cas grinned with Dean’s lips still grasping at his. The feeling in Dean’s chest had him shaking his head in disbelief. It shouldn’t be possible; to feel so much for someone. There wasn’t room enough in his chest, let alone his heart, for it.

If he didn’t get up and walk out of that bathroom right this second, every thread of clothing would come off again, and he would try to do something very, very stupid. He leaned hard on the angel’s shoulder. Cas helped him to his feet, pulling himself up to stand with a hand around Dean’s bicep and Dean’s underneath his, on both arms. “You, uh, heh… probably gotta brush your, again, um… I should…” Deciding against a kiss, Dean’s touch slipped off Cas’ skin and he made for the door. Pausing—something didn’t feel quite right—he looked back and slowly smiled. Castiel nodded, his countenance steady but tender, his smile plain in his eyes.

Nodding, Dean took a shaky breath and turned to figure out where he left his shirt. Nowhere in the room to be seen. He could have sworn… the shower. On a hanger in the shower stall. Right. With a sigh of frustration at his AWOL memory, he bowed his head and stalked back into the bathroom. With his eyes downcast, he chuckled. If he didn’t put himself away now, he would likely walk out the door with his twig n’ berries hangin’ out catchin’ the breeze for the world to see. Dean sighed. It was gonna be an interesting day…

[lumber]

❤️🎂🎈🎁🎉🥳💕 Yesterday was the legendary @martinscorsese_'s birthday! Happy belated Birthday, maestro! ••• This is from my #CartoonDirectors series. A "Cartoon Directors" Art book is in the works from @experimentalcomics. ••• Just in under the wire is my #Inktober Day 16 #TaxiDriver/#RockyAndBullwinkle #MashUp #Tribute. I went with a quickly done, yet super fine, delicate #InkBrush line work for this piece. You can see my #ColerasePencil marks underneath the ink. Cool look. #Film #FilmNerd #MartinScorsese #JayWard #JeauxJanovsky #JeauxJ #JeauxJanovskyArt #Ink #BrushPen #Cartoons #Animation #SaturdayMorningCartoons #Sketchbook #SketchBookArt #Inktober2016 #RocketJSquirrel #Bullwinkle #JayWardProductions #RockyAndBullwinkleShow #MeanStreets #Goodfellas #TheDeparted (at Culver City, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClHHguePX2G/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[puppgirl]

Just under the wire in saying, "Happy Belated Birthday!" ~

Thanks! I appreciate it 🫶

[arrthurpendragon]

CROSSED WIRES a Marvel Cinematic Universe fanfiction

by: @anotherunreadblog

Her great-grandma was friends with Peggy Carter, her parents are ex-agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Rosabella Anderson seems destined for a heroic life. She didn't ask for powers or for the Avengers to turn on each other, but when her heroes fall, she rises above them. But two months after Germany, Ro's main responsibility remains watching over Peter Parker and he does not make it easy.

READ HERE

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I finished the Baba Yaga hut!

LOOK AT IT

It’s a 4.8x4.8″ wooden box on a 9x13″ base. It’s all crocheted save what was hand felted and the tiny firewood.

Shall we tour the details??? YES WE SHALL

Tree stump! Made from a little cardboard tube from inside a skein of Knitpicks Curio. I crocheted around the tube with Caron Simply Soft, then worked the hemp yarn (Lion Brand Just Hemp [it’s awful]) in the round. I shoved the top of the stump through the tube from the bottom to get the look. 

Chicken feet were made with a 2.0mm hook and a Rowan DK yarn. I worked three, single crochet rows, then folded the long ends over 22 gauge floral wire and stitched the ends together so the feet could be adjustable.

The cauldron was made the same way as the stump, crocheting size 10 thread around another cardboard tube. The crossbar is made with Caron Simply Soft with wire inside. The fire is a mix of Knitpicks Diadem and Cascade 225 Fingering. I made a pom pom, brushed it out with a wire dog brush, then hand felted to make the flames.

The firewood is a couple of wooden dowels I snapped into various pieces. 

The windows are granny squares made with a 2.0mm hook and tiny red yarn. 

Happy little trees! And bushes! The overall base of the piece and the trees and bushes were made with Lion Brand Wool Ease. I just single crocheted the base, then brushed it with a wire dog brush to give it a mossy vibe. I hand felted the trees and bushes, then used a little bit of white acrylic paint to try and put flowers on the bushes.

88 roof tiles, all made with a 2.0mm hook and a handspun laceweight I rediscovered in my stash. The sides of the house are done in Lion Brand Just Hemp [so terrible] and done up as individual shingles that I layered free hand. 

You can’t see it (because that’s the point) but I also did a single crochet base chain for each side of each corner and put them down first so there wouldn’t be any coverage gaps on the corners. 

The chimney is a bunch of 1″ wooden hoops that I crocheted around like I did the stump and the cauldron. I then stacked and glued them together. You can see the contact cement, but if anyone asks, come on, chimneys are always a little dirty, right?

So, yes, the roof comes off so you can store stuff in the box. I made the roof base with floral wire, masking tape, felt, and hot glue. I stuffed it with polyfil, then attached all the crochet pieces over it. The polyfil gives the roof a bit of weight so it stays in place.

The door is Caron Simply Soft with more of the tiny red yarn for the rune. It’s a protection rune.

So, that’s the Baba Yaga house! It’s a belated birthday gift for @templemarker​, and I’ve had an absolute blast making it.

[tsunderedoctor]

Hi, I have a request if it’s ok.

Lately I’ve been feeling kinda useless and that no one cares about me. It’s been my birthday recently and my best friends forgot about it and only 2 other friends remembered and wrote me a message. I felt like I was forgotten and with one of them I didn’t even talked in a while. I feel alone and sad so if it’s ok could I ask for killer and sanji with an F s/o who goes trough this?

I'm so sorry you had to go through that, love! Happy Belated Birthday to you!! I send you all my love!💖💖💖 And of course, you can!! Let these boys shower you in love! Reader is female! (but it’s barely hinted)

“Massacre Soldier” Killer

Yesterday was your birthday, a day you had wanted to spend with your lover, however, much to your annoyance, his red headed captain decided he just HAD to go help on some stupid raid. The rest of the day went by, since most of the crew didn’t know when your birthday was they didn’t wish you anything or celebrate it, not that you blamed them though.

The day went by quickly as you wanted for Killer to come back. However, by the time you fell asleep the man hadn’t returned yet. Tears wishing they could fall as you finally closed your eyes for the night.

When morning came, Killer still wasn’t in bed with you, worry overcame you, wondering if he was still on the raid or if something bad had happened. Getting up, you got dressed, not wanting the other males to see you in your pajamas. Heading out, you went to the mess hall, wanting to ask if they saw Killer.

“Surprise!”

Shocked by the sudden intrusion of voices, you stared blankly at the group of men (with a pouting Kid in the background). Killer holding a cake, that he had to of made, because it looked reasonably edible. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you tried to hold back the tears as you smiled at the man, happy he was able to surprise you. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to celebrate yesterday with you, but we can do it today if you want.”

Nodding at his words, you ran over and hugged the man, doing your best not to knock the cake out of his hands, Wire taking it from him so he could properly hug you. Arms wrapped around your frame tightly, as the man let out a whisper. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Vinsmoke Sanji

Forgetting birthdays do not happen to this man, he has everyone’s birthdays (even stupid marimo’s) on a calendar! When you woke up and got ready for the day, you honestly expected it to be just a normal day. No one had ever taken the time to celebrate your birthday, so why start now?

Heading outside to see what the others were up to, you were shocked when Luffy ran up telling you a quick ‘Happy Birthday’ as he stuffed his face. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you had wondered how he knew. The rest of the day was the other crew members you came to know also wishing you well on your day. 

You truly couldn’t figure out how they knew, you didn’t expect them to wish you well, not that they were bad people, you just didn’t see your birthday worth celebrating. Your suspicions on who told them were becoming clear, as you hadn’t seen your cook boyfriend lately, which surprised you as the man was usually figuratively on your hip.

Heading into the kitchen, you were shocked when the blond noticed you and refused to let you in. Giving excuses and telling you to hang out with the rest of the crew for a bit. It stung a bit, as you wanted to at least celebrate today with him. Almost giving up on spending the day with the man, you had heard Luffy yell out that it was time. Turning over to see what he meant, you had saw your favorite foods and a large cake at a table for everyone. Sanji standing on the side proudly. 

“Sorry it took a while, I wanted to make all your favorite foods, but I also needed to bake the cake, and I got a bit carried away.” Laughing nervously, he expected you to get angry with him, but feeling your smaller arms wrap around his waist was not what he thought. 

“Y/N-swannnnnnn~” Blood had gushed out of his nose as your body pressed against his in the hug. Staring at the man in shock, Luffy had interrupted your worried thoughts by asking if he could eat now, throwing a booger on the unconscious man as he got to work. 

[jennamacaroni]

so yeah i breathed the same air as jean and hannah, heard The Cackle in person, and i am now only a ghost posting this from the great beyond

this was sparked by a deep feels spiral i fell into the other day re: deborah and how much she has been hurt.  this is also a happy (belated) birthday gift to my mate @soulofacircus who is simply lovely <3

email? oh yeah. that email :/

There are a shocking amount of stars spattered across the inky black sky above Las Vegas if you’re far enough away from the blazing neon of the Strip.  Deborah’s estate is miles outside of the sprawling suburbs and the property large enough that there isn’t a single neighbor for nearly a mile.

It’s part of the reason Deborah bought this house in the first place.  The privacy and the stars.

Ava is splayed across the pool lounge chair to Deborah’s right, her head tilted to the sky.  Her hair is half up and half down, the way Deborah likes best, and she’s been staring up like this since they got out here.

Deborah’s just been staring at Ava.

She watches as Ava takes a sip from the lowball of whiskey that rests against her thigh, then finally turns her face from the heavens towards Deborah.  She wants to tell her how utterly beautiful her particular shade of hazel is.  That she wants to paint a whole room in the house that exact perfect mix of green and brown, though she doubts she’d ever match it exactly.

Some things just cannot be replicated, only appreciated.

There’s an intense look on Ava’s face, but not the one she gets when she’s determined to get what she wants, or when she’s about to needle Deborah the way only she can.  It’s softer.  Calmer.

Even though Deborah wants to look away, she doesn’t.

“Why did you do it?”

Deborah knows exactly what she’s asking, but delays to give herself a few extra seconds.  To search for the right answer.

“Do what?” she finally asks, her eyes flicking away from the intensity of hazel and back just as quickly.  The tiniest line appears between Ava’s eyebrows as they tilt ever so slightly upward and Deborah’s fingers twitch, her heart begging the hand to reach out and smooth it, the head denying.  

Always denying.

Sometimes it feels like she does nothing else.  

“Forgive me.”

It’s spoken just above a whisper and so sadly, as if Ava isn’t used to being forgiven, or worse, that she didn’t expect Deborah capable of it.  At least not a second time and so soon.  Not that Deborah can blame her, she certainly doesn’t have the reputation for it, firing staff for the smallest slights and constantly demanding perfection.  And that email was no stopping-at-a-yellow-light level of fireable fuck-up, either.

She could make a stupid joke to deflect, or tell Ava that she flew to Boston for a funeral to get her back for the benefit of the show.  That Ava’s writing makes her act better, which would bring more success and money into the brand.  And though that’s true, and it does, it’s not why Deborah spent the entire morning holed up in her office with a petulant Marcus and three lawyers going back and forth with those British pricks until they finally agreed on a deal for Deborah to pay up the ass for them to forget it all ever happened.

Instead she goes with the truth.  Because after the money was wired and the paperwork inked, that’s what she and Ava promised each other from here on out.

She takes a sip of martini for courage.

“I realized my life was better with you in it.  I really think it’s as simple as that.”

Ava doesn’t say anything, but she’s tearing up instantly.

“And the more I thought about it, the more I looked back on the arc of my life and the decisions and  sacrifices I’ve made, the bridges I’ve burned—” she swallows, throat thick.  The vodka is icy and sharp going down.  “I haven’t been happy in a long time.”  It’s the first time she’s spoken that singular truth out loud, the words heavy in the air between them.  “I’ve had glimpses, sure, but there was always something or someone lurking to snatch it away.”

Ava’s brows are doing that devastating sad tilt she gets when she’s trying to hold it together.  Deborah recognizes it from the funeral parlor, Ava staring up at her from the first row.

“It’s like you told me in the desert,” Ava says, “the day you stepped on a helicopter and abandoned me.  That you have to scratch and claw and that it never fucking ends.”

Deborah hums and thinks back to that day.  Ava was right, she was being difficult in the beginning, mostly on purpose, because the idea of needing a writer to help save her residency still felt mostly like a failure.

“I’ve lost a lot of people in my life.”  Deborah stares away across the illuminated flickering blue surface of the pool.  “To protect all this.”

The reputation.  The empire.  The image.  The broken heart.

She’s been playing defense her whole life.  From the moment her parents never came home again, leaving a little girl to look after her baby sister, to only a few days ago when Marcus moved to block the front door and told her she would regret going to get Ava back.  That she wasn’t worth it and Deborah was making a mistake.

But Ava and Deborah had both made mistakes.  They both protected themselves by punching first.  He refused all along to see that Ava made Deborah better.  A better comedian and a better person.

And Deborah is tired of denying herself what she really wants.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

It’s freeing to finally say it out loud.

Ava puts down her drink and swings her legs to the ground, squaring up to Deborah, elbows on her knees.

“I’ll fight for you.”

It’s spoken like the most solemn promise and now Deborah is crying, too.

“I know you will.  No one has ever—” she chokes up and looks away, eyes fixing on a perfectly manicured topiary just past the pool house as tears slip hot and fast down her cheeks.  “No one has ever fought for me the way you do.  It means more than you know.”

The chair scrapes as Ava gets up, the fabric stretched across the lounge chair dipping under added weight.  Deborah scoots over enough so they can both fit and their bodies press together from calf to shoulder.  Ava offers her sweatshirt sleeve and Deborah uses it to mop up her tears.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy here.  With you,” Ava whispers, pulling Deborah’s hand into her lap.  She plays absently with the chunky gold and opal ring on Deborah’s middle finger while Deborah thinks how monumental that admission truly is.  They’ve both spent most of their lives searching for happiness, though Deborah has been at it about four decades longer.

“Me, too.”

Their heads tilt back in unison, pointing up towards the stars.  Deborah finds Orion, then both Dippers.

“Constellations remind me of my dad.”  She feels Ava’s head turn to stare at Deborah’s profile, their faces so close.  “One summer night, we were out late on the lake because the fish were still biting.  He pointed to this perfect line of stars and told me the story of Artemis putting Orion up in the sky to keep him safe from the scorpion.  When he didn’t know their stories, he made them up, one by one.  I traced each of them with the tip of my fishing pole.  I remember him when I remember to look up.”

Ava points with her free hand, the one not holding Deborah’s, and traces the line of stars back and forth.  “It’s beautiful out here.”

“It is.”

Though the night is getting colder, Deborah shakes her head when Ava suggests taking it inside.  She’s not ready to leave this quiet bubble of peace they’ve found just yet.  Inside that house there are tour dates to schedule, new shapewear samples to review and approve, and a mountain of material to rework.  The last few days have scraped Deborah utterly raw, but out here, under the blanket of stars and with Ava’s warmth pressed to her side, she decides to leave all that for tomorrow.  For now, she can rest.

At some point, Ava retreats to the house, refreshes their drinks, and comes back with a soft knitted blue blanket that she drapes over them both.  This time Deborah is the one to reach for Ava’s hand, massaging her thumb into the palm and working tension out of the tendons.

“Do you think I'm selfish?” Ava asks, after a long and comfortable silence.

Deborah snorts.  “Definitely.  So am I.”

Ava pulls her hand away and Deborah misses it instantly.

“The night he—” Ava takes a gulp of whiskey.  “George.”

“Kamikazed?”

Ava tries to hold in the laugh but can’t.  “Deborah!”

“Hey, at least I didn’t make a sex joke.  A last supper, so to speak.”

Ava groans.  “Shut up, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“I know, I’m sorry.  Go on.”

“All I did was complain to him.  All night long.  Literally when I talked to the police, I couldn’t tell them jack shit except that the Masshole liked cocaine and Papa Gino’s pizza.  And that he was a toothpaste fairy.”

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“Irrelevant, D.”  Ava hides her face with her hands, muffling her voice.  “I was just so frustrated and wouldn’t shut the fuck up about my own shit but he was so patient and kind and he told me everything I’d been wanting to hear my entire life.  That I wasn’t just some weird gawky girl with freckles, ADHD, and acne beard scars who can’t shut her damn mouth, but that I was funny and charming and smart and kind.”  Her hands disappear back under the blanket, but Ava refuses to meet Deborah’s gaze.  “He made me feel like I was worth something.”

That Ava would feel worthless, that no one in her life aside from a random stranger in a Las Vegas casino ever tried to make her feel otherwise, including Deborah herself, aches horribly deep inside her chest.  That she directly contributed to Ava’s pain is something she’ll be atoning for forever.

Deborah’s hand moves under the blanket, unclenching Ava’s from where it’s squeezing hard at her own thigh, and pulls it between her own, rubbing warmth into the skin.  “You are all those things, you know.”

Ava sobs.  “God, that’s so—“

“You're also a huge pain in the ass.”

This time the sob turns into a deep and shaking laugh.  Deborah revels in the rush of affection at the sound.

“I know, but thanks for saying so, D.”

“Just keeping it real, as the kids say.”

“Oh my god, stop.”

They collapse into each other and laugh, loud and full, their shared love language the only sound piercing the silence of the desert.

Eventually they settle and Deborah feels a sudden change in the air between them.  Ava tenses where they’re pressed together, her spine straightening as she pulls somewhat away and looks again to the sky.

“I have to tell you something else about that night.”

There’s an air of dread to her words and Deborah consciously braces herself for another Ava Daniels special.  Prepares herself to absorb the hit, no matter what it is.

“I ranted about you to him.  How hard of a time I was having trying to connect with you, to make this job work, and how hard you were making it.  And I was fucking coked out of my mind and single handedly emptying the mini bar—“

“You have a pattern, you know that?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.  Anyway, he made this whole speech about needing to take control of our own lives and make a change, to write our own narratives and stop waiting for things to happen.  It seemed good advice at the time,” Ava says, shrugging.  “Turns out he was just a suicidal criminal.”

“Can’t win ‘em all.” Deborah frees one hand to take a sip from her martini and waiting for the impact of whatever comes next.  What’s one more hurt on top of a lifetime of them?

“The night before the final Palmetto show was not the first time I quit.”

Well, that’s new.

“I left you a pretty terrible voicemail in the middle of the night where I said things I won’t repeat, but I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Well, I did read that email so I think I get the gist.  But I never got a voicemail.”

She thinks quickly of who has access to her phone and the passcode to open it, and there’s no way either Marcus or Josefina would have gone behind Deborah’s back to cover for Ava.

“Yeah, that’s because by some miracle you lost your phone that night.”  Oh yes, now she’s remembering.  All the martinis and champagne and running into Ava and George in the bowels of the employee tunnels under the Palmetto.  “Then we were at the clinic and you were in surgery and I deleted it before you could ever hear it.”

“How the hell did you do that?”

Ava laughs but it’s sarcastic and pained.  Deborah reaches again for her hand to let her know she’s still there.  That she isn’t upset.  That it’s okay to tell the truth now.

She meant what she said earlier:  she was tired of fighting.

Ava finally turns her face back to Deborah, their eyes meeting.  There’s the tiniest spark of mirth there, a flicker of light amongst the churning storm of regret.  “You know your wax figure?”

It takes a second to register, then Deborah is cackling, loud and brash.  “Oh my god.  Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s a remarkable likeness, let me tell you.  FaceID worked like a charm.”  She pauses, studying Deborah intently.  “Are you mad?”

“That you broke into my personal property, deleted a voicemail and evidence of a phone call without my knowledge then pretended it never happened?  I certainly should be.”

The Deborah from those few weeks ago would be simultaneously berating and marching Ava upstairs right now to pack, sending her straight to the airport to get the fuck out of Las Vegas and banishing Ava from her life forever.  But she isn’t that person anymore.  Neither of them are.

They’ve both come too far, now.

Deleted voicemails, secrets and lies and slaps, funerals and emails.  Tonight they’re finally putting an end to all that emotional warfare.

“I’m really sorry, D.  I know you’re probably tired of hearing that.  I know I’m such a fuck-up, I’m trying to work on it.”

“Ava—” Deborah tries to interrupt, but Ava plows on.

“When I woke up the next morning and remembered what the fuck I’d done, I knew I had to fix it.  And that you didn’t deserve to hear those words.  They weren’t true.”

“They were, though.  I belittled you and humiliated you.  I made you feel insignificant.   Constantly making you prove your worth to me.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t valued, Ava.  And I hope you know how much I—”

I appreciate you.  I value you.  I need you.  I love you.

“I know,” Ava says, as if she can hear the very words Deborah can’t yet say.

“Thank you for telling me.” “Thank you for forgiving me.  Again.”

Deborah burrows to tuck under Ava’s arm as it finds her way around her shoulders, her cheek pressed against the warm cotton covering Ava’s heart and listening to it beat.

She knows they’ll keep making mistakes, but they’ll keep apologizing to each other, too.

Because both of their lives are so much better when they’re together, and Deborah’s not letting her go again.

[magalidragon]

Birthday Signs | a Silent Shadows drabble

HAPPY BELATED NAME DAY TO @aenarsnow !!! Here is your gift I hope you like it! A family fluff fic that totally spoils Silent Shadows but oh well we all knew where that fic was going! 🤣 This will be set between the soon to be posted chapters 14 and 15.

The familiar, early morning strobe light flashed behind Jon's closed eyelids, which fluttered up, taking in the sight of the phone on his nightstand, flashing next to a glass of water, his watch, a book, and a very new addition to the random detritus that scattered from his pockets when he emptied them out on the worn wooden stand.

A baby monitor.

He smiled at it and reached for the device, lifting it up to his ear. It was a very expensive model, one that Robb had purchased for them at the baby shower, which vibrated at the level of sound coming from the nursery. It did not help as much during the night, when he could not feel the vibrations from the nightstand, but he was very attuned to the shifting movement of the mattress and when he felt Dany move at his side, he was up immediately.

This morning it was silent, as was she, hugging Shadow against her chest, the great black wolf fast asleep between them, like a strange wiggling body pillow. He ruffled Shadow's ears and got up, shuffling around Ghost, who popped up quickly. He knelt at his companion's side, nuzzling his nose and stroking along his side, shivering at the feeling of the raised scar underneath the regrown white fur.

It was near a year ago, but he could have lost him. He signed to his wolf, speaking, his throat muscles constricting and vocal cords vibrating, attuning him to his spoken words even if he could not hear them. "You can't leave me, not yet," he said, smiling down at him. He kissed Ghost's head, coming up to his feet and lightly touching the middle of the wolf's back, Ghost walking beside him through the house and to the room across the hallway.

It was still somewhat dark outside, sun creeping up above the horizon, the sky a mottled purple, blue, and black as the light fought the dark back to sleep. The trees were dusted with a fresh layer of snow, courtesy from the storm the evening before. It was one of his favorite times of the year, just after a snowfall. It was a twisted sense of awareness, knowing that when people stepped out into the powder, everything was muffled, all sound smothered out. It was his entire life and for some reason made him oddly satisfied knowing others could sense the same thing he did.

He didn't know what the day would hold-- that depended on whether Dany would try to surprise him or not-- which he hoped definitely not. He hated surprises. Really saw no reason in having anything of the sort. All he wanted was to have his day to himself, as usual. Once morning was done in the house, he would go to his wolves. He was eager to see if Rifle and his pack had welcomed the new wolf who showed up a couple weeks ago, edging nervously into the territory. The wolf was certainly not an alpha contender, but could support the pack with hunting. He suspected they'd be fine, after he'd sat with the wolf for a time and then released him into Rifle's area, thinking they'd go on alright.

After that, there'd be some paperwork no doubt, and he'd stop at Winterfell to inspect Summer's eye infection. Gods only knew how he got that one. Summer tended to just fall into mishaps, just like his owner.

Until then, he would be with his favorite person in the entire world. Save Dany.

Although for all the love he held for Dany, she did not hold a candle to the love he felt for the wiggling little body in the crib, gazing up at him with wide eyes when he leaned over, greeting her with a tickle on her tummy. He signed to her, wanting her to learn as soon as possible, even at the tender age of ten months. "Good morning," he signed, smiling down. He leaned in and lifted her up, chuckling.

The baby did not react to his chuckle, instead squealing-- he felt her chest constrict against his-- she beat her fists on his shoulder and took a handful of his t-shirt, shoving it into her mouth. He nuzzled her head, eyes closing briefly, swaying from side to side. She rarely cried, but when she did, he might not be able to hear it, but it broke his heart. He savored these moments when it was just them, before the rest of the day started.

He carried her over to the changing table, resting her on it gently, smiling as she babbled to him, her fingers moving up. He nodded along, whatever she was saying was very important, he was sure, and he removed the hearing aids from their charger. She whined, not liking it when they first went in, obviously the plastic uncomfortable after an entire night being without, but she soon got used to them. It broke his heart, to see the heavy plastic behind her delicate ear, the tube and wire leading into her ear canal, but once it was in, once he flicked that little switch behind it, her eyes lit up, an entire world shut off to her in the night now at her disposal.

It was something he'd never know, so he was grateful her deafness could be rectified, at least for a time, and she would know the joy of her parents' voices-- such as his was he thought darkly-- the barks and howls of Ghost and Shadow and everything else the world could offer her.

Aly waved her hands again and very carefully, he moved her fingers into the sign, the fingers folded and the thumb out to the side and dragged it from her temple, down to her chin. "Daddy," he said, hoping she could understand.

She waved her hand again and he did it a few more times. She was very young, but anything they could do, the doctors and specialists said, would help her. Babies learned languages by doing. WSL was just another language. Same as Common Tongue or Valyrian, which Dany used with her.

Their baby would be trilingual by the time she was in preschool, Jon thought with a chuckle, lifting her up from the table once both her hearing aids were in and on. She'd quieted, her dark brow eyes wide, searching. Alysanne had almost black hair, but the largest green eyes, which he really loved. They tended to show her reaction before her face to anything.

Just like the day they first had her fitted for them, the audiologist warning that it might take some time, but when they came on, when Dany first said her name, the little girl freezing and then smiling, laughing at the sound of her mother's voice for the first time, Jon almost died there from sheer joy. Such an unfamiliar feeling for him.

He signed for her. "It's my birthday." He was thirty-five. He'd been (officially) with Dany going on three years now. Married for two. Parents for four months. How things had changed from the time when he thought he was fine, living alone in his house with his wolves, content to never speak to another human being again. Even with Arya, sometimes he never opened his mouth, preferring sign over trying to speak.

It was his first birthday as a father, he thought, nuzzling Aly's thick dark hair, carrying her out of her room and to the stairs, Ghost trotting behind them. She wiggled her fingers at Ghost,squealing. He licked her foot, walking ahead of them to lead their entry to the kitchen, where he stopped hard, catching Dany.

She must have been preoccupied, because she didn't turn around, fussing with something on the counter. Balloons wafted up near the ceiling and she'd draped streamers around the kitchen cabinets. He smiled, glancing at Ghost, who chuffed, continuing ahead to nose Dany. It didn't necessarily matter, because at the sight of her mother's silver hair and Shadow, Aly let out a squeal, waving her hands for her.

Dany whirled around, laughing and rushing to him, eyes a little foggy from sleep. "Happy Birthday!" she signed, reaching up to kiss him and grinned. She fell back on her feet and took Aly, nuzzling her. "And good morning!"

"What's this?" he signed, walking up to see that she had coffee set out and doughnuts. He chuckled, noting the wolf bun she must have asked specially from Hot Pie's Bakery. He picked up one of the couple presents sitting beside the pastries and coffee, setting it down to sign. "YOu didn't need to get me anything."

"Yes I did," she signed, adept now at keeping Aly hoisted on her elbow while she used her free hands to sign. She grinned, speaking now, because Aly was wiggling in her arms. "It is your birthday Jon."

He shrugged; it was just a day. He kissed her again, because Dany should be kissed often, in his opinion, and he was happy to oblige her. While she prepared Aly's breakfast, he sipped his coffee and wondered what his presents were. He really didn't need anything. Most all he wanted was for the sanctuary. He finished some of his coffee and signed to her, when she caught his attention. "Taking Ghost and Shadow out."

She nodded, focusing on Aly in the moment. Jon signaled for Shadow to follow, which he did, jumping up and running ahead and outside, the second the door opened to the yard. He pulled on one of the heavy parkas near the door and shoved his bare feet into boots, trudging into the snow to wait for the wolves to finish whatever it was they needed to do. It gave him a few minutes to clear his mind, inhale the cold air, and be in his preferred element.

Not being able to hear, he had heightened senses otherwise. Arya joked he had a super power. It was what he told the deaf children who came to the sanctuary to sit with the wolves. They had a superpower, they could see and smell, they could sense better than anyone else with hearing. He closed his eyes, smelling the pine and fresh snow, the smoke from the chimney. Even the wet wolves, both of them bounding around together. He rummaged in his pocket for the laser pointer, flicking it in front of Shadow, the wolf instantly turning and running up to the house, signalled to come in.

As it was still a regular day, he planned to finish up coffee and breakfast, dress, and head into the sanctuary. There were things to do. He stomped off snow once inside, found Dany feeding Aly, cutting up little pieces of a croissant for her. Somehow Aly already had jam all over her face. He signed, laughing. "Someone is having fun."

"Too much fun," Dany signed back. Jon studied them both, marveling at how things had changed again. He caught Dany's eye and she smiled, shrugging. She signed, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he signed. He shrugged, easily signing something that came so difficult for him before he met and realized that there was more out there, Dany helped him see it. He folded his fingers together. "I love you."

Her face wrinkled into a smile, brow furrowed to keep from crying. She reached for him, when he went over to her and hugged his arm, wrapping around her shoulders and chest from behind, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I love you too," she mouthed, kissing his cheek.

Aly flung a piece of croissant at them, shouting. "Ah!"

"I love you," he signed to her, kissing her head. He waited a moment, lightly stroking her hair. This birthday was different, he felt that in his bones. Even when he'd come to an understanding regarding his feelings for Daenerys, struggling with his emotions and history and being a father, he didn't know until he held Aly in his arms. They could go through so many rounds of IVF, sitting in the doctor's office, crying in each other's arms with each negative pregnancy test, and exhausted mentally and physically. Their relationship suffered.

Then Aly came into their world. It didn't matter if the baby was from their blood, she needed them and she was their daughter. Just like Ned had been his father. He knew that it would be a struggle; Aly would have her own struggles with her deafness, as he did with his, but looking back on his initial thoughts-- he was mad. Aly would hear him-- she'd hear his laugh, his voice, and while it might not be like anyone else's, it was his and he was her father.

He kissed her again and went upstairs to change. Ghost came with him. HIs shadow. Just like Shadow was Aly's shadow. He couldn't help her from the same perspective that Ghost could, but she loved him and he helped her with what he could. Both of them being deaf, not always a great combination, ignoring everything but each other. Which could actually be pretty sweet.

When he finished dressing and came out of the bathroom, he was surprised to find Dany sitting in on eof the chairs by the fire, the embers glowing from the previous evening. They'd enjoyed themselves quite a bit last night, the fire merely providing ambiance-- they'd provided the heat. He sat down on the chair arm, kissing her head, signing. "What's wrong?"

"Open your gift."

"Where is Aly?"

"Over there." He glanced at the bed, seeing Aly caged in by Shadow, using him as a pillow while she played with one of her stuffed animals, ignoring them both. Dany poked him and handed him a small wrapped gift. "Open this please."

"I can open gifts later. I should get to the sanctuary."

She shook her head, chewing her bottom lip. "Please open this."

Jon didn't know what had her so nervous, or insistent, so he slipped into the chair, pulling her into his lap. Her legs slung over his knees, she watched him open the box. He thought maybe it was jewelry, which was weird because he only wore a watch and even then he often kept it in his pocket. He opened up the slim white box and pushed by tissue paper, staring, eyes widening in understanding.

It was a pregnancy test.

He was accustomed to those; he'd been at her side through four negative ones over the last couple years. Except this time, it wasn't negative. There was a very obvious plus sign. He turned to gaze down at her, silently questioning. She was already crying and nodded. "Yes," she said clearly. "I'm pregnant."

The only word he could croak out was: "How?"

She laughed, wiping quickly at her eyes and set the test down on the table next to them. Taking his hands, she pressed them under her sweater, to the swell he now felt in her lower abdomen, which he couldn't believe he didn't feel last night or notice before. So much for super senses. “The usual way," she laughed. She kept his hands on her warm belly and signed quickly. "Mel said it happens. Couples adopt and then get pregnant and there's no explanation. I was so scared something would happen that I waited. I am sorry, but I wanted to wait. I'm sixteen weeks."

That was four months. He knew that they weren't completely out of the woods, but the risk lessened now. He pressed his head to hers, removing his hands and cupping her face, bringing her to him for a long, slow kiss. His heart was so full, it threatened to strangle him. It was all silent; his heart racing in his head, his breath coming in deep gulps. More than once he wished he knew what she sounded like, wanted to hear her voice. He trusted it was as beautiful as her.

The sign worked too. It meant as much to him as the words in English would be.

They broke the kiss, Dany laughing again. "Happy birthday. Daddy."

He grinned. "Daddy," he said, the words hard for him to wrap his mind and his tongue around. It was foreign, the word not something he ever wanted to hear or say. He could no longer imagine a world where that was not a word in his vocabulary. It took a long way to get there; however, and he credited Dany for that. He signed for her, knowing hse understood. "Not without you."

The tears trickled down her face again. He kissed them away, holding her to him, and briefly thought to the first moment they met. That haughty look on her face, shouting at him, trying to touch Ghost-- who was just as amused at her as he was-- apologizing over herself. Then angry, for no apparent reason. He fucked with her on purpose then, because her reaction was so...different. He never intended to see her again.

And he did. Even trying as hard as he could to push her away, not get involved, there she was.

His shadow.

A shadow he could not hear, always at his side, in his way. Silent, silver shadow.

He could never be without her again, he thought, getting up long enough to get Aly, who was ripping at her stuffed animal. She looked up, when Dany said her name, and smiled. He kissed the shell of her ear, just beside the hard plastic aid. "You are going to have a brother or sister," he said to her. He didn't know if she understood him. It didn't matter, but she looked up and touched her fingers to his lips, smiling wide and began to babble.

Dany laughed again, tossing her hair over her shoulder, meeting his gaze again, pure love shining at him. She signed, fingers a blur. "Happy birthday my love, I hope you like your gift."

Not a gift, he thought, nodding and squeezing them both against him. Ghost and Shadow both flopped down together, black and white piles of fur. Jon closed his eyes and sighed, listening to his heart and feeling the other two under his hands. And maybe, just maybe, a third.

FIN

[laurelwinchester]

Fic: As We Were (Arrow)

HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY, @missourielephant 

welcome to the universe where oliver broods alone in the dark a lot and says ''alexa play white flag by dido'' like seven times a night. meanwhile laurel's just vibing with her family. i like it here. it's soft. thank you for requesting this fic, it was a lot of fun to write. :)))

.

Title: As We Were Fandom(s): Arrow Pairing: Laurel Lance/Joanna de la Vega, past Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: ''We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we no longer are. As we will one day not be at all.''. In the aftermath of his return, Oliver struggles to come to terms with his new place, or lack thereof, in Laurel's life, how much his baby sister has changed, and the city's resident vigilante - who does not seem to be a fan of the Hood's particularly bloody methods.