#filthy flamingos

[bitter69uk]

“Like a septic tank explosion, it has to be seen to be believed.” Detroit Free Press.

“Dregs of human perversity draws weirdo element. Monstrous.” Headline of Variety’s review.

Yes! John Waters’ ultimate depraved landmark cult movie, the infamous Pink Flamingos, premiered at the University of Baltimore precisely fifty-two years ago today (17 March 1972) – making the world a filthier place forever! Pictured: David Lochary and Mink Stole as Raymond and Connie Marble.

[thesatanicpeterpan]

John Waters inspired holiday roach earrings

[abs0luteb4stard]

W A T C H I N G

[c0ckedgun]

KILL EVERYONE NOW

[dippedanddripped]

NIKKI BEACH GLOBAL and DUVIN DESIGN UNVEIL LIMITED EDITION COLLABORATION FOR SUMMER 2023

NIKKI BEACH GLOBAL x  DUVIN DESIGN  SUMMER 2023

The pieces combine military green, pink, and off-white tones in various patterns, including a leopard print cabana set. The collection also offers Duvin’s very first nylon water-resistant bucket hat, and Peruvia pima cotton T-shirts.

“We’ve been offering Duvin products in our boutiques and online for years and knew that a collaboration was the perfect next step for our partnership,” said Efrat Fritz, Head of Fashion & Lifestyle at Nikki Beach Global. “There are so many synergies between our brands. We both launched in Miami and have grown into global companies with a focus on a barefoot luxury aesthetic. The pieces perfectly encompass both of our brands and I can’t wait to see our clients wearing the collection at our beach clubs around the world this summer.”

“Tell Only Your Best Friends” will be available at Nikki Beach boutique locations in Saint Barth, Saint Tropez, Marbella, Mallorca, Ibiza, Montenegro, and Miami Beach, as well as on shop.nikkibeach.com, while supplies last.

Duvin collections are produced in Los Angeles and internationally, with custom dyeing handled in Los Angeles and all printing done locally in Orlando. Though rumors have circulated that the brand is associated with The Filthy Flamingo Surf Gang, the Duvin team can neither confirm nor deny those claims.

[stvolanis]

TOO SWEET

PAIRINGS: the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac x Fem! Mortal! OC

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood, blood consumption, alcohol consumption, mentions of killing, mention of Lestat, no Claudia, reader is perceived as innocent, age gap, OC being turned into a vampire, inaccurate timeline probably, YES I USED LINES FROM THE SONG DONT HATE ON MY GRIND.

NSFW WARNINGS: light choking, biting, sir kink, manhandling, blood, fingering, making out, p in v, creampie, praise, overstimulation, power play, slight corruption kink? Idk

The year was 1925, 15 years after Louis had been turned into a godforsaken vampire, doomed to the harsh life of an unwilling immortality of lies and betrayal.

The dark gift was taking, the worst of its flaws and punishments being that every night you woke and walked amongst the living. The bitter feeling of no longer being mortal, and forgetting what it was once like to be a regular human amongst the crowd, rather than a predator picking out its prey in the sea of flesh.

Day after day, party after party, body after body—to be short, it was a routine. A boring one, at that.

He noticed her dress first, long and drug behind her. Baby pink in color, with periwinkle and a flamingo pink shade of flowers adorning the fabric. Diamonds glistened under the light of the expensive chandelier, and her white gloved hands reached for a deep red champagne—the vibrancy he imagined her blood would be.

A long white feather sprouted out from her mass of curls, a dark chocolate with an odd singular strip of white rooted at the front of her hair, framing her face. Where her white strand of hair was rooted almost melted down onto her face, a pale patch of skin on her forehead stood out.

Her face was decorated in moles, almost perfectly hand placed by God herself. Lips plump, parted as his enhanced hearing heard every soft breath that passed. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she scanned the room, oblivious to the bright eyes staring at her.

She was out of place. He knew that she knew she didn’t belong in a place like this, but that only lead to the question of why she was here, in a room of people money and sex hungry. The complete opposite of her.

Her voice echoed in his head, and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ‘I wonder if there’s cake. This drink is awful.’ How sweet. In a room of smoke and drunken men, she’s worried about eating cake.

The dark angel lurked against the walls of the extravagant room, looking at the beauty in every angle possible. A lamb. His lamb. So pure, unbeknownst to the evils around each corner she turned. ‘What is your name, girl?’ He spoke, using his mind as communication.

He visibly saw her freeze. Like her heart stopped beating in her body—not yet. Her heart would not yet stop beating. “What?” She replied, aloud, desperately looking around the room to match the voice to a face—till her eyes stopped on him.

Their eyes connected. Heat rose through her in a fiery roar, curiosity and conflict dancing in her eyes with the smallest hint of fear. Fear was normal. Humans lived off of fear, it’s was the reason for everything if you peeled away enough layers.

‘You’ve found me’ Louis smiled. She felt her heart begin to beat again. Her hands balled into fists against her dress, a wad of fabric curled into a ball. ‘How are you doing this?’ She asked, eye contact between the two never once being broken.

‘Come.’ Was all he replied. He left the large room full of lousy people, around the corridors, and out through the back. He was met with a dark alley, a rather clean one—still boxes scattered around, though. Humans we’re filthy. Like toddlers who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves.

She followed behind him till they were standing mere feet apart from each other outside in the privacy of the night. “Who are you?” She finally spoke after a long moment of silence.

“I am whatever you perceive me as. Most call me the devil.” He chuckled. The first few years after his changing, he took offense to it. Hated being called it. Pondered if he really was the Devil. He knows he isn’t now. Farthest from it.

“You’re too handsome to be considered such” she smiled, two dimples. She was genuine, not a hint of lie detected in her speech. “I ain’t got nothin’ on you.” He replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously—nervously? How peculiar.

Louis felt like a schoolboy all over again. Giddy at the compliment she gave, flush rising to his cheeks faintly over her eyes pondering over his existence. “What is your name?” She asked, her head tilted ever so slightly.

“Louis De Pointe Du Lac.” He said, pridefully. She thought for a moment—“my daddy used to go to that place you own, I’m not sure what it’s called?—” she said, urging him to finish her thought. “The Azalea. My money maker.” A charming smile graced his face.

“Maybe I should go sometime.” She said, a cheeky smile playing at her lips. Louis let out a breath of air as he softly shook his head. “Nah, that’s not the place for you, baby”

“Yeah? then what is the place for me, Mr. du Lac?” She whispered, glancing down at the bottom of her dresses as she nervously fiddled with her fingers behind her back. His hand found her chin, lifting her head to do their eyes could once again meet.

“Bright as the morning, aren’t you?” He whispered back. His voice was laced with desire, yet he was holding himself back. Louis was in fear, for the first time in a long time. He was fearful to taint the aura of innocence the damsel carried around with her. He didn’t want to have to be the one to burst her bubble. But somewhere inside of him did.

“What are you, Mr. du Lac?” She said, her tone more serious than before as her eyes swirled with curiosity. But after all, it was curiosity that killed the cat. “I’m a vampire.” He replied calmy, like it was an every day occurrence. She giggled.

“Oh yeah, then where are your fangs?” She teased. Louis quirked a brow, taken aback for a moment. His mouth opened large enough for her to watch as his fangs protruded—white, and sharp. She brought her finger to the tip of his tooth, pricking her finger.

Crimson spilled from her small wound, and her scent clouded his mind. He couldn’t have her like this—not yet. It wasn’t her time still. Louis couldn’t help himself as he gently grabbed her wrist, holding it in place as his tongue met with the pad of her finger, sufficiently licking up any traces of blood.

“Fuck—you taste like pineapple.” He mumbled, placing a soft kiss against her wound before forcing himself to pull away, again, in fear of harming her. “My name is Thérèse.” She let out a shaky breath. He knew it wasn’t from fear, but rather arousal.

His hand reached for her waist, pulling her close to his body. Her chest was flush against his, and her cleavage was on display. She looked like an angel, sent down just for him. He knew he didn’t deserve her, shouldn’t have even been able to be in her presence—yet the way she felt against him felt so right, and that feeling wasn’t something he could deny or dismiss.

Their noses brushed against each other, and their lips were mere centimeters apart. One move and they would be touching. “Thérèse.” He said. Her name sounded like velvet on his tongue, and she longed for him to say it for centuries to come. To hear him call out for her. To her.

Their lips crashed together, the kiss desperate. The metallic taste of her blood lingered on his tongue, yet it only made her all the more eager to have him. Their tongues danced together, a fight for dominance that Thérèse easily gave up. He explored her mouth, and she allowed him.

This would be the first of many things she would allow him to do. She allowed him to hold her hand delicately as he guided her through the busy roads of their town. He had a certain way about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Enchanting, almost. Alluring, maybe. Possibly a word non-existing.

His hand was cold to the touch, which Thèrése found odd, yet she had not comment to give. She was aware he was not quite human, but she wasn’t ready to accept what he was yet. Just a few moments, maybe days longer, she’d like to live in a carefree bliss. He respected and supported her unvocalized wish.

“How long have you lived here, Louis?” He sighed, glancing around at the town he’d known all his immortal life. “Forever.” He replied. “The white people are ignorant. Greedy liars, most of them. They feed off of the red district, and all the people in it.” He said.

“I made the Azalea to counteract them. Get the white mans money.” He finished. She hummed in acknowledgment.

Thèrése was Hispanic, and immigrant from overseas. A land conquered by natives with the white people invading like the Huns invaded Rome. It was tragic, being forced to move far away from all she’d known since she was 17. She was now at the ripe age of 22 years old, standing at 5’5 without shoes on.

“Was it hard?” Louis asked, glancing over at her. She quirked a brow in confusion. “Was what hard?” She asked. Louis looked up at the sky. It was dark. The way it had been for years. Darkness was now the only thing he’d ever be able to see. “Leaving your home. To travel such great lengths.”

She decided not to ponder on how he knew, in fear of messing up the content atmosphere they had created. “Yes. I left many family members and friends behind. But, I endured. For my family, I endured.” She responded, almost as if robotically.

“I was going to be forced to marry a white man named Humbert had I not left. The life I saw before me was not what I had planned, but I am grateful for the freedom I have now grown accustomed to.” She responded. She looked up at the sky with him.

“They’re beautiful.” She started. “I wish to see space. To feel the heat of the stars.” She whispered, pausing her walking with Louis next to her, close enough to have their shoulders bumping. “The stars get exhausting when you look at them long enough.” He whispered back.

“I think I could spend a lifetime looking at them.” She said, a smile gracing her lips. She looked beautiful like this, and Louis wished to remember this exact scene before him for the rest of his life. “Be careful what you wish for, Thèrése.” He responded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his clean slacks.

They walked throughout the night, hand in hand. The moonlight created highlights that emphasized their alluring features, and for the first time in a long time, Louis was in love. And for the first time ever, Thèrése was too.

They stopped at a gated entrance, and beyond it, was Louis home he hadn’t showed anyone who lived to tell. Thèrése would be the first mortal he brought to his home without killing, and she would be the last as he opened the gate, allowing her to go in first.

A small hand was placed at the small of her back, guiding her throughout the house she had entered after walking through an outside area of the house. “You live here? By yourself?” She asked him, glancing over her shoulder as her eyes wandered over the antiques of the house.

“Yeah, I live by myself now.” He said, shrugging off his expensive jacket and hanging it on a rack. Thèrése felt an unfamiliar heat spread throughout her body as she watched him loosen the cuffs of his sleeves and collar of his shirt. “Now?” She asked.

“Had a roommate. We didn’t work out. He was a cunt.” He said, walking to a table and picking up a wine glass, pouring some for himself. “I know you don’t like wine. I’m afraid I have nothing else to drink, but if you would like some then tell me.” He said, taking a sip.

Thèrése watched the way he swallowed it, visibly seeing it travel down his throat. Her eyes zeroed in on the droplet the fell from his lips—and her head was suddenly spinning with thoughts of him consuming her blood.

It must’ve been the wine she had drunken before she arrived. That’s gotta be it, right? Why else would she be having such vile thoughts?

He didn’t give her time to linger on the thought much longer as he began to unbotton his shirt, ever so slowly walking closer to her. Almost like he was hunting her—but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to hunt such a pure being.

Thèrése fiddled with the rings on her gentle fingers, watching, unsure of what to do as his shirt was swiftly removed, displaying his body. Slim, yet fit. She longed to trace over every piece of him, to memorize Louis inch by inch so she wouldn’t forget this very night.

His hands reached out to her. One placed delicately on the base of her neck, and the other, roughly pulling her body to his by her waist. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing down at his lips.

“Louis…” She said breathlessly. He could feel her heat radiating off of her, especially from where his hands were touching her body. He could smell the slick between her thighs he knew were meaty under her dress. “Need this off of you.” He said, tugging at her dress.

“You gon’ let me take it off you, mama?” He asked, gently as he searched her eyes for an answer. “Please.” She said, almost desperately, making her face flush in embarrassment. Louis laughed at her eagerness.

He removed her dress from her body, following with her gloves. She covered her breasts with her hands shyly, laced panties still on. Her dress was pulled at her feet and Louis removed her hands from covering herself.

Thèrèses’ nipples hardened under the rather cold air of his odd home. Louis hands cupped them, inspecting them with such admiration. “So pretty. So fuckin’ pretty.” He said, kissing a mole above her areola, down to where her perk nipple was.

He suckled it harshly into his mouth, massaging the other with his free hand. Thèrése whimpered at his assault on her nipple, watching as he switched to the other one. His tongue reached out to kitten lick her nipple as he held eye contact with her.

Thèréses’ thighs squeezed together as the burn between her thighs grew uncomfortably. “You gonna let me have you?” He asked, trailing one of his hands down to her panties. He kissed along her neck, all the way up, till he was at her mouth again.

“Yes, Louis.” She mumbled. Louis clicked his tongue. “Try again.” He urged. He pushed her panties to the side, slowly sliding in one of his slender fingers. Years of pleasurable experience revealing itself as he worked at her cunt.

“Y-Yes, sir. Oh—Oh god.” She whimpered out as she felt another finger prod at her entrance. Two of his fingers slammed into her sopping hole at an alarming rate. Thèrése felt herself grow weak in the knees, and Louis knew as he held her up. “Shh.” He whispered, his breath fanning her ear.

He slipped out his fingers and slightly bent down just enough to reach her bottom as he slightly tapped it. “Jump” he said. Thèrése jumped, wrapping her legs around Louis slender waist, and her arms around his shoulders as she buried her face into his neck, leaving small opened mouth kisses.

“So needy, aren’t you? You all needy for me?” He asked, even though he confidently knew what the answer was. Thèrése nodded her head against him, afraid her voice would betray her if she spoke and said anything.

He threw her onto the couch—not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her bounce slightly on the cushion. He wanted to see her bounce on him. The imagine of her on top of him trying her hardest to ride him while her breasts moved with each of her bounces made his cock twitch.

Thèrése was more overwhelmed than she had been her whole life. No one had ever seen her this bare as he took her panties off. She was ashamed to be letting him to these things to her, but she was more ashamed at the fact she grew aroused from it. Aroused from the power difference between them.

She might not have known to what extent his strength lied, but she knew he was strong. Strong enough to probably lift her with just a finger. The idea that he could bend her and use her to his liking sent a shiver down her spine of want. She needed him in every way she could have him.

Louis spread her legs apart, revealing her aching, wet cunt that looked almost painfully in need to be taken care of. Two of his fingers found their way back inside of her, working at her gummy walls as she whined and whimpered under him.

“Shh, I know. I know.” He whispered, his fingers growing more erratic. “Want you—in me, please.” She said desperately, a hand cupping his face. He was breathtaking. His thumb skillfully rubbed her clit at a slow pace, almost as if he was trying to sooth whatever pain Thèrése might’ve been feeling.

“Gonna make you feel fuckin’ amazing.” He said, pulling out his fingers. He unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down along with his undergarments just enough to reveal his cock. Thèrése couldn’t help but just stare at it in a mix of emotions of fear, arousal, and excitement.

Fear from how intimidating it looked; long and uncut with a patch of curly hair at the top. Thèrése felt nasty as she realized just how badly she wanted to lick his happy trail. Arousal from his mushroom tip that was pulsing with desire, and pre cum leaking from his tip. Excitement bubbled as Thèrése thought about the events that were mere seconds from unfolding in front of her.

He slapped his meaty cock onto her pussy tauntingly, a wet, heavy sound, loud and prominent. She clenched around nothing, but slowly felt his tip enter her. It was a painful stretch as he slid himself in, inch by inch, trying his hardest not to hurt her.

Louis restrained himself as she clenched around him tightly. He knew this was the closest to heaven he’d ever get, with the angel under him at his mercy. His to do with whatever he pleased and saw fit. His in every aspect of her mortal, and soon immortal, being. Soul tied and bound to the earth together for eternity was the way he wanted to spend his days with her.

“Oh my God—oh fuck—” she gasped out, mouth hung slightly agape. Pain shot through her first, eyes watering as evidence, but was soon followed after with an immense pleasure she never knew she could feel. “Not God, Thèrése—Me.” He huffed as he gripped her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder.

Louis began to move his hips against her, slowly at first—then, in the blink of an eye, he snapped. The self restraint he forced himself to have was gone, and a seemingly sweet and charming man was replaced by a domineering beast.

At an inhumane pace, his cock hammered into her. His hands dug into her thighs in a tight grip—a grip so tight, his sharp nails broke skin. The scent of her blood filled his senses, and he went feral. His lips found her neck as he leaned down, leaving desperate kisses to subside the pain he was soon going to inflict on her porcelain throat.

“Louis—wait—” she pleaded, but made no movement to stop him. The pleasure was overwhelming as she arched her back into him, grasping onto his skin—still cold to the touch. Why was he so cold? She felt something sharp pierce the side of her throat, but oddly enough, the pain was overruled by the way he fucked her.

Thèrése wouldn’t be living much longer. “You’re to sweet for me.” He groaned, licking at the wound on her neck he had created. He watched blood ooze out of her, enjoying the crimson that decorated her neck. The familiar taste of pineapple was nothing if not addicting.

Thèrése felt weak, her body unable to hold itself up any longer as she grew light headed. The room began to spin, and Thèrése now knew she was no longer seeing things as his fangs poked two more holes near her wrist. Blood poured out of her and into his mouth.

Was this the way she would die? At the hands of the most charming man she’d ever met? The vampire who sealed her fate stopped sucking, slit his own wrist, and brought it to Thèréses’ mouth.

He fucked her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. Her moans got caught on his wrist as his blood trickled down her throat. Thèrèse, pupils dilated and on a high, felt her end near as she clutched his wrist to her mouth like she would never be able to drink the forbidden liquid ever again.

Louis snatched his wrist back from her mouth quickly before she made herself sick. He knew she would want more blood, so he instead flipped Thèrése onto all fours, arching her ass into the air. Thèrèse cried and begged for Louis wrist—his cold blood back in her mouth.

“Shhh, shut up. You’ve had enough. Don’t be greedy, baby.” He scolded, grabbing her by the back of her hair and shoving her face into the cushion. “P-Please—Louis, M’gonna c-cum. Need you.” She begged as she pushed her ass back onto him, meeting his hard thrusts.

Her words began to slur together as his brutal pace never faltered. The grip he had on her waist was bruising, but Thèrése couldn’t even feel it. Her body felt as though it was on fire from head to toe, and the unbearable heat and pressure of her cunt was all too much for the young fledgling.

“You said you wanted to see the stars forever, right?” He asked, his breath grazing the shell of her ear. He didn’t sound like he did earlier—calm and alluring. He sounded gruff and disheveled—and every word he spoke almost came out in a growl.

He felt his balls tighten, and ever muscle in his body tensed. “Gonna stuff this pretty ass cunt. You ready, darlin’?” He said, his southern drawl laced with every word. “Y-yesss.” She groaned out through clenched teeth as his hand found her clit.

He played with her clit like he had been doing this for years, expertly. An overbearing wave of pressure was what made Thèrése snap as juices poured out of her. Louis never once slowed down, and his fingers continued to help her ride her high.

Louis didn’t stop, still chasing his end. Thèrése mindlessly took everything he gave her as her pussy grew sore and overstimulated from the relentless of the top of his cock hitting her cervix. “Can’t—I can’t, sir—“ she choked out, her words sounding almost as if her mind was in a distant place.

“Take it, Thèrése.” He urged as he bit down onto his lip, trying his hardest to resist sinking his fangs into her again. Thèrése listened, and the only sounds that escaped her drying lips were moans and whimpers of pleasure. Only Louis would ever be able to see her this way—this desperate and in need for him.

“Good girl. Just like that.” He said, stuffing her pussy full of his cum. His head was thrown back in bliss as he fucked his seed into her, deeper and deeper as his high subsided into a dull aching feeling. “Did so well, baby.” He said, his voice shaky.

He slid himself out of her, and watched as his cum spilled from her used hole, and onto his expensive foreign furniture. Thèrése laid there, legs sore and head still spinning, now in a painful manner as Louis scooped her up into his arms bridal style.

“S-so you’re really a vampire, huh?” She asked through a long and drug out yawn. He chuckled as he gazed down at her small frame in his arms. “Yes, and come tomorrow night, you will be too.” He replied, walking up the stairs of his old home.

“I’m scared, Louis.” She whispered, blinking slowly. Thèrése grew tired, her eyes heavy with sleep. “You won’t be for long.” He said reassuringly. “You have me now. Forever.” He muttered as he pushed open a door.

A singular coffin was placed in the center, right in front of a fire place. Thèrèse was laid in the coffin by Louis, and she watched as he left the room to grab a warmed wash cloth. She was in love. She died in love. And now, for the rest of her dead life, she will continue to live in love with the man who swooned her in the alley.

Vampires say the worst thing to experience from immortal life is a simple thing; loneliness. A feeling Louis knew all too well, and how would never feel again. Thèrése wasn’t Lestat. She wasn’t cold, and manipulative. Calculated in every wrong doing. No, Thèrése was kind and gentle. Thoughtful with every word she spoke and every action she took.

Never again would Louis ever have to worry about being alone.

guys this took me like 3 weeks to write I’m obsessed with this show rn. I worked so hard on this so istg if it flops I’ll be so sad 😭🙏

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request stuff!!

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[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🖤 Black History Month ❤️

💛 Queer Books by Black Authors 💚

[ List Under the Cut ]

🖤 Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender ❤️ Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta 💛 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💚 I'm a Wild Seed by Sharon Lee De La Cruz 🖤 Real Life by Brandon Taylor ❤️ Ruthless Pamela Jean by Carol Denise Mitchell 💛 The Unbroken by C.L. Clark 💚 Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova 🖤 Skin Deep Magic by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi 💛 That Could Be Enough by Alyssa Cole 💚Work for It by Talia Hibbert

🖤 All Boys Aren't Blue by George M. Johnson ❤️ The Deep by Rivers Solomon 💛 How to Be Remy Cameron by Julian Winters 💚 Running With Lions by Julian Winters 🖤 Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters ❤️ This Is Kind of an Epic Love Story by Kacen Callender 💛 The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum 💚 This Is What It Feels Like by Rebecca Barrow 🖤 Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ Black Boy Joy by Kwame Mbalia 💛 Legendborn by Tracy Deonn 💚 The Wicker King by K. Ancrum

🖤 Pet by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson 💛 Once Ghosted, Twice Shy by Alyssa Cole 💚 Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron 🖤 Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann ❤️ A Spectral Hue by Craig Laurance Gidney 💛 Power & Magic by Joamette Gil 💚 The Black Veins by Ashia Monet 🖤 Treasure by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow 💛 Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James 💚 Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

🖤 The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta ❤️ Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee 💛 A Phoenix First Must Burn (edited) by Patrice Caldwell 💚 Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson 🖤 Things We Couldn't Say by Jay Coles ❤️ Black Boy Out of Time by Hari Ziyad 💛 Darling by K. Ancrum 💚 The Secrets of Eden by Brandon Goode 🖤 Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Off the Record by Camryn Garrett 💛 Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers 💚 Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

🖤 How to Dispatch a Human by Stephanie Andrea Allen ❤️ Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans 💛 The Essential June Jordan (edited) by Jan Heller Levi and Christoph Keller 💚 A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark 🖤 A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney ❤️ Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo 💛 Dread Nation by Justina Ireland 💚 Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome 🖤 Masquerade by Anne Shade ❤️ One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite 💛 Soulstar by C.L. Polk 💚 100 Boyfriends by Brontez Purnell

🖤 Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender ❤️ Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby 💛 Coffee Will Make You Black by April Sinclair 💚 The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi 🖤 If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann ❤️ Sweethand by N.G. Peltier 💛 This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron 💚 Better Off Red by Rebekah Weatherspoon 🖤 Friday I’m in Love by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez 💛 Memorial by Bryan Washington 💚 Patsy by Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn

🖤 Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole 💛 Yesterday is History by Kosoko Jackosn 💚 Mouths of Rain (edited) by Briona Simone Jones 🖤 Dead Dead Girls by Nekesa Afia ❤️ Love's Divine by Ava Freeman 💛 The Prophets by Robert Jones Jr 💚 Odd One Out by Nic Stone 🖤 Symbiosis by Nicky Drayden ❤️ Thanks a Lot, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 The Passing Playbook by Isaac Fitzsimons 💚 Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

🖤 Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert ❤️ My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson 💛 Pleasure and Spice by Fiona Zedde 💚 No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull 🖤 The Stars and the Blackness Between Them by Junauda Petrus ❤️ Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor 💛 The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin 💚 Peaces by Helen Oyeyem 🖤 The Beauty That Remains by Ashley Woodfolk ❤️ Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh 💛 Bingo Love by Tee Franklin, Jenn St-Onge, Joy San 💚 The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera

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[impala-dreamer]

When The Rivers Rise

A Supernatural Story 

~Alone and unprepared, Y/N goes to collect Dean from the bar and convince him to come home. Sam says he has a cure, and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to get Dean on board...~

Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

6,331 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Angst, Smut, Demonic Charm, Fingering and Fucking, Mild Violence, Canon Everything, Choking During Sex, Choking not during sex, Lose of consciousness, Yada Yada

A/N: So basically, I took S10 E2 & 3 and smushed this in there. Please enjoy. I did. Published to Patron June 5, 2023

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The Flamingo Lounge was filthy. The parking lot was fenced in, littered with trash; its brick walls covered in graffiti as if the city’s youth used it as a canvas. Luckily, though, it seemed empty.

Y/N parked her car in the lot, not caring to lock the doors behind her. She double checked the syringes stashed in her jacket, made sure her gun clip was full. Really, there was no way to know what she was walking into, but she had to try, had to do something.

And she had to do it quick. If she knew where he was, so did Sam, and God only knew what Sam would be planning.

She walked in through the side door, letting her heavy boots thud and announce her presence. There was no reason to hide, anyway. Sneak attacks were never her speciality.

Soft piano notes filled the air, a half plucked melody that never quite turned into a song.

The room smelled of lingering cigarette smoke and stale beer, whiskey and maraschino cherries. The bar stools were vacant, the room empty save for the bartender and her target. She stopped by the counter; blue neon light shining down on her face. She grit her teeth and cleared her throat.

The music stopped and he looked up with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Dean. Her pulse quickened.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” His jaw twitched as he looked her over. “Thought it’d be Sammy who came callin’.” He cocked his head to the side, cracking his neck unnaturally.

Not Dean.

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d come see you first. Save him a trip.” Her voice felt so small. It crackled in her ears as fear welled up inside. She’d been tracking Dean for months and now, standing half a room away, she felt unprepared and severely out matched.

Dean chuckled under his breath and spun on the piano bench. His legs spread as he straddled the cushioned wood and he rubbed a hand down his thigh. Green eyes were piercing through her and Y/N shivered. She hadn’t felt his stare in forever, hadn’t known she’d feel it ever again.

He stood and she instinctively reached for her pistol.

“You know you can’t just shoot me, Y/N.”

He blinked. Blackness overtook the green and her heart sank. He could see it in her face, smell it pulsing off of her like thick perfume. She was terrified, disappointed, intrigued.

He laughed and made his way to the bar. “Oh. You weren’t sure, were you?”

She swallowed hard. “Sure about what?”

“About me.” He nodded at the bartender and Harv took a walk, dropping his drying rag on the bartop. “You knew what happened, that I’m… different now. Better. But you didn’t really believe it, did you?”

Shit.

Y/N dropped her hand to her side, dug her nails into her palm to steady herself. “Not really, no.”

Another little laugh left his lips as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He cast a glance back at her, his eyes green again, his gaze hungry.

“Well, believe it. I’m new and improved, babydoll.”

His tone washed over her. There was a new grit in his voice, a different confidence that was so unlike him but so very much Dean that it made her head hurt.

“You’re a demon.”

He shrugged and plucked two glasses from the drying rack, turning them over. “Yeah. Cool, ain’t it?”

Y/N bit her tongue hard, hoping the quick flash of pain would clear her head a bit. “Not cool, Dean,” she spat. “Evil.”

One elbow on the bar, he turned to face her and grinned. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know evil if you were stuck in Hell with it. Which…” He looked around at the empty room and laughed. “I guess you kinda are.”

The emptiness of the room suddenly weighed down on her and Y/N took in a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.

Dean filled both glasses and then slid one across the bar for her. “Drink up. You’ll need it.”

Nervously, she stepped up to the bar and took the glass between her fingers. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

He sucked his teeth and let his gaze fall down her body, remembering, enjoying. “Maybe.”

Her heart thudded in her ears. “You haven’t decided yet?”

Dean knocked back his drink. “Nope.”

“That’s bullshit.” She took a sip and it burned down her throat.

“What?”

“You decided the second I walked in here.”

Dean refilled his glass while keeping one eye on her. “Actually, I didn’t. I was too curious to worry about what I’m gonna do to you.”

Y/N held the tumbler to her lips, breathed in the oaky fumes. “Curious?”

“Well, you walked in here, alone…” He licked his lips. “Lookin’- mighty tasty if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Fuck.

Her blood sizzled. “I do mind. Asshole.”

Dean smirked and took a long drink. “And I thought to myself, Y/N’s a smart girl. She’s gotta have some kinda plan. Wouldn’t just walk in here by herself with no backup, no weapons, no nothing. She’s not an idiot.”

He paused to watch her reaction and found her stronger than he thought. She held his gaze without faltering and he moved closer.

“So, tell me, Y/N, was I right? Are you smarter than you look?” He licked a drop of whiskey from the corner of his mouth. “What’s the big plan?”

She refused to look at him lest she lose her nerve. She finished the last sip of whiskey and then pulled her weapons from her jacket. On the bar, she laid down her gun and three syringes filled with a harsh sedative. The smooth, eternally cool handle of the angel blade pressed into her side, but she kept it hidden beneath her shirt.

“There. There’s my plan.” She turned to face him and swept her hand over the weapons.

“You were gonna- what? Force me to OD?” He grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth and the pink tip of his tongue.

Y/N shook her head. “It wouldn’t kill you. Just knock you out.”

“And then?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a confessional shrug. “Honestly, Dean, I didn’t think I’d even get this far, so… there’s no and then. Bring you home, I guess.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What if I don’t have a home anymore?”

She held her breath. “You do. You’ll always have a home, Dean. Whether you want it or not.”

He laughed. “Lemme guess. Home is wherever you and Sam are. Where we chose to hang our hats.” He shook his head and sighed. “Home is dead, Y/N.”

Her heart ached. “It doesn’t have to be. If you come back with me, maybe we can-”

“What?” He cut her off. “Maybe we can pretend everything’s good? Play house? Oh, you wanna try being boyfriend and girlfriend again, act like we have a future?”

His words were a knife, but she bit her tongue again, refusing to give him a reaction. “Don’t be cruel, Dean. I’m trying to help you.”

He sucked in a breath and turned away. “See, I don’t really care about being helped. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s gonna need help in a minute.”

She pressed her arm down against the blade, reassuring herself that it was there and ready.

“You’re not gonna kill me, Dean.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

“Whatever happened to you,” she said, hope burning on her lips. “Whatever this is… It can be undone. You’re still you. You’re still Dean Winchester. You’re still-”

“Still what?” He spun on his heel and towered over her. “The man you love?”

Pain twitched around her eyes. “Yes.”

“You know what you are? You’re a sad little girl playing with shit she don’t understand.”

She stood up tall, finding strength in the marrow of her bones. “Sam has the cure. He can-”

Dean laughed and backed up, cocky and amused. “Sam’s probably dead right about now. I don’t know how much good his cure will do.”

Y/N froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dean clicked his tongue and smiled. “Some assclown called me from his phone. Got baby Sammy all tied up in a shed somewhere doing… something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. But, that was a while ago. I assume he’s…” He slit his throat with a single finger and stuck his tongue out, mocking Sam’s apparent death.

Y/N shuddered, unable to hide the truth from him.

“So you didn’t know.” He spun back to the bad. “Sorry. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

She cleared her throat, pushed the worry aside. “That’s exactly what I came to do.”

She took a chance, lunging for the gun on the bar, but Dean got to it first, expertly disarming it and tossing it aside.

“You’re too slow, Y/N. Always have been.”

He poured them another drink while she regrouped.

“Tell me, how is it you don’t know where Sam is? You two’ve been attached at the hip forever.”

A bit of whiskey sloshed out of her glass and flooded the bar. She went to it, lifting her cup from the mess. “Yeah, not so much anymore.”

Dean leaned in, condescendingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Y/N took a drink. “No.”

A month ago, Sam was losing his mind to grief and obsession, pushing Y/N aside at every turn as he tried to find his brother. The last straw was a torture session in a barn in Kentucky. Sam was slicing up a demon, carving into its stolen flesh, and when Y/N protested, he hit her, knocking her back against the rotting walls. They tumbled, fighting, screaming at each other while the demon watched, cackling from the center of the Devil’s Trap. When the dust cleared and Y/N came up bloody and bruised, she spat in Sam’s direction and told him to go to Hell. That was the last she’d seen or heard from him. He was on the same mission, but going about it in all the wrong ways.

She stared at the neon sign behind the bar. “We’re not exactly speaking anymore.”

Dean hummed and refilled his glass. “Funny. You and me in the same boat.”

Y/N huffed. “I chose this boat, Dean. You didn’t.”

He grinned. “You don’t think so? You don’t know all the fun I’ve had this summer, all the trouble I’ve gotten into. All the tail I’ve chased… and gotten.” She flinched, but he kept going. “All the drugs, the fights, the booze. It’s been a great time. You should join me.”

She laughed bitterly and downed her drink. “Pass.”

He frowned, mockingly. “I’m sorry. Does hearing all that hurt your feelings? All those chicks I’ve banged, dudes I’ve nailed… makes ya jealous don’t it?”

Y/N sighed and turned to look at him. “No. Just sad for you. And them.”

He took a step and she balked, moving away from the bar, her defenses on edge.

“Come on, now. I’m the best you’ve ever had. And I’ve only gotten better.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Dean grinned. “Baby, you have no idea.”

He moved closer, stalking towards her, forcing her to back up. His eyes were fixed on her face, intent obvious. His mouth parted gently as his tongue came forth to tease her, wet his plump lips. A strange mix of panic and arousal swelled in her gut and she reached into her jacket, pulling the angel blade free.

“Stop!” She twirled the blade in her hand and held it out in warning.

Dean laughed. “Really?”

“This kills anything, right? Human, angel… demon. If you’re two outta three, I got a fighting chance.”

Her voice was shaking as hard as her hand and Dean kept coming, boots thumping the stained carpet.

“Stay back!” she yelled, spreading her feet and bending her knees, taking a fighting stance.

Dean swept forward in a flash and grabbed her wrist. He twisted hard and she held back a scream as the bones threatened to snap.

The blade fell to the floor.

“Get off me,” she snarled.

Dean’s right hand curled against her lower back and he leaned in close, breathing in her scent. “You don’t mean that.”

Frozen, caught and confused, she gasped as he bent to kiss her. Squirmed as his tongue poked between her lips, thrashed as his fingers tensed on her ass. Swooned as the kiss lingered.

Fuck.

It was warm and wet and so Dean. She hummed despite herself and freaked out when he pulled away. She slapped his chest, shoved him hard.

Again, he pulled her close and his lips found hers. He licked at her mouth and exhaled into her, flooding her brain with desire, washing her body in lust filled memory.

“Stop it!”

Once more, she shoved him back with all her might, but it only made him angry. He stumbled back a pace and dipped his chin, daring her, enticing her, tugging on every string.

Oh god…

“Just- stay back!”

Dean’s upper lip twitched and he bared his teeth, advancing on her like a wolf in the wilderness. He wrapped himself around her, pushing her back until she hit the piano. Nowhere to go, she melted in his arms, let him probe her hot mouth, let him slip his knee hard between her thighs.

She gasped, hating herself for loving him. Hating her love for getting in the way.

“Stop.”

He pulled back an inch, burning into her with familiar green eyes. “If you really want me to stop, I will. Just say it.”

His breath struck her face, that dreamlike mix of whiskey and smoke and long faded mint. Her eyes fluttered and her pussy clenched. “No.”

He grinned, let his fingers trail down her cheek to wrap loosely around her throat. “No you want me to stop or no, you don’t won’t say it?”

Unable to think, to speak, to reason herself out of the moment, Y/N grabbed at his flannel with both hands and tugged him down. She licked at his lips, sucked on his tongue until he growled against her, thrust his hips into her.

“Knew you were good to go,” he moaned, fumbling with the zipper of her jeans.

Y/N clawed a hand through his hair and tugged, yanking his head to the side and licking at the sacred vein. She pressed her lips there and felt his heart beating steady. He still had a heart.

“Miss you so much,” she whispered, half gasping as he tore at her bottoms, tearing the denim from her hips.

“Oh, I know you did.”

He grabbed at her sides, slid his hands up beneath her arms and lifted. Her bare ass squeaked on the piano lid and Dean closed in on her, pushing her onto her back with a heavy kiss. She spread her knees around him, tugged him closed with her heels on his ass. He snuck a hand between them and grinned against her lips.

“You did miss me, huh?”

She nodded, breathless as he shoved a finger into her.

“So tight.” He added another and she gasped. “Thought you’d be runnin’ around like a cat in heat without me, but looks like you’ve been a good girl. Kept yourself all tight and virginal for me.”

Her nails scraped at his scalp. “I don’t know about virginal…”

A third finger jammed into her and Y/N bit her lip as the stretch burned.

“You been fucking other guys behind my back?”

His ring finger barely made it inside and her pussy clenched down hard on him.

“Nah.” He grinned and nipped at her lips. “You ain’t been doing nothing but dreaming about me, have you?”

She wanted to scream, to push him off, to run, but there was no escape. Not when he had his lips on her throat and his body pressed so hard against her.

“Yes…”

He pulled his hand away and pressed two fingers to her clit, watching in delight as he eyes lit up and a silent scream filled her mouth.

“You could come with me, you know.”

She snapped her jaw shut tight. “No.”

Drawing his left hand firmly down her body, he stopped at her hip and tugged her shirt up, exposing the blank protective ink over the bone. His thumb ran over the tattoo. “Sure you could,” he explained. “I’ll just cut this off… drag some bitch outta Hell… stuff her into you.”

Her body jerked as he forced his hand back into her cunt and Y/N grit her teeth. “Wouldn’t be me then, would it?”

He paused and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess not.” He tugged the shirt up higher and smiled as the thin cotton of her bra did little to hide her pert nipple. “I like you like this anyway. All scared and confused.” He dropped down and sealed his lips around the bud, tugging hard.

Y/N squirmed and let out a cry that rang like music in his ears.

“Fuck, I missed that sound.” He sucked again and bit down. “The whores I’ve been picking up lately, they just- it ain’t the same.” He straightened up and looked down at her. “Sex is just sex until you learn someone’s body. You can’t really fuck someone the right way until you learn how. You gotta pay attention… learn what makes them… squirm. What makes them scream...” He crooked his fingers and Y/N squealed, her thighs slamming shut around his arm. “See? Just like that.”

“Fuck, please!”

Her lips were burning from his kisses, stubbled lips leaving the ghost of his touch behind. Her body was aching, throbbing from his fingers, dripping down onto the piano.

“Dean-”

He bit his bottom lip and let it fall slowly away. “Love hearing my name like that. Never gets old.”

He pulled away before she could cum, leaving her struggling and needy. She reached for him, but he slapped her hands away and unbuckled his jeans.

“Lay still,” he grit.

Y/N sealed her lips shut and clutched the hem of her shirt. She eyed the exit, thought about jumping down and taking her chances outrunning him, but before she could take a deep enough breath, Dean jutted his hips against her and his cock slipped between her swollen lips.

Her shoulders jolted upright and Dean grabbed the back of her neck, tugging her down toward the edge of the piano. Her ass was hanging, teetering off the side, and she grabbed at his shirt, holding on as he fucked deep into her.

“That’s it,” he grunted, one hand on her hip, the other on her throat. “Fuck, I remember this cunt. So fucking wet for me. So tight.”

She gasped, eyes wide, heart racing. His thumb covered her pulse and he pushed down just enough to blur the edges of her vision.

“D-Dean!”

His hips snapped upwards, his breath quickened. He squeezed her throat tighter and watched as the color drained from her lips.

“That’s it, babydoll,” he urged. “Gonna get you nice and dizzy so you cum hard. I know you like that…”

She could feel it building, that tightness inside as he hit every spot she’d been unable to reach herself.

Green eyes blurred in her vision and then with a grin, he snapped them to black.

Y/N came instantly, her cunt pushing and pulling on his thick cock; a flood of warmth slicking down his thighs.

“Yes…” He thrust harder. “Yes… Just like that!” His roar was intense and Y/N’s eyes began to roll, her heart struggling to beat. “Yes!”

The room was fading to white; her head was spinning. Still throbbing, her cunt was the only thing responding as Dean finished with a grunting cry. Just before her eyes rolled back, he released his grip and oxygen flooded her brain.

Y/N gasped and caught herself, falling back onto her elbows on the polished wood. “Fuck!”

Dean flashed a cocky grin and tucked himself away, uncaring of the mess. “You still got it, Y/N/N.”

His wink was uncalled for and aggravating, but Y/N had no energy to clap back at him. Carefully, she rolled onto her belly and slid off the piano. Her muscles were aching, her flesh on fire.

Dean headed back to the bar and poured another round. He walked a little slower, his voice rolled a little smoother off his devilish tongue.

“Can’t say I’m mad you stopped by,” he joked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Turned out pretty good after all.”

Y/N yanked her jeans up and grimaced as the seam scraped at her raw pussy. “Just think how much better it would be at home, in the Bunker, where you belong.”

He laughed. “Really? After all that, you’re gonna try again?”

She stumbled forward, grabbing the bar for support. “I gotta keep trying, Dean. You need help.”

Sighing, he knocked back his glass. “See, that’s where you’re still wrong.”

Behind him, the door creaked open and Y/N’s eyes went towards the light.

Dean didn’t have to turn around, he knew.

“Hiya, Sam.”

Shit.

Sam let the door shut behind him and he walked in, arm held in a sling, face cut up and bruised.

He locked eyes with Y/N and her stomach tensed. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and seeing him now, it all rushed back to her.

“Sam.”

He nodded at her and moved to stand equidistant from her and Dean. The triangle was a familiar one, but strange altogether.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes flickering between them.

Y/N swallowed down her anger and swept the sweaty hair from her eyes. “Same as you, I guess.”

Dean laughed. “I highly doubt he’s here for that, Sweetheart.” He brought his right hand to his lips and licked her taste from his fingers. “Unless…”

She shuddered and Sam’s brow creased.

“We’re gonna take you home, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring the obvious sexual confession. He turned his back on Y/N and focused on his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, I don’t think so. I told you to let me go.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed. “You know I can’t do that.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Well…” Reaching behind him, he pulled the First Blade from his belt and showed it to them both. “Sucks to be you, don’t it?”

For a moment, Y/N felt calm. Almost as if her soul had decided to give up all hope and accept the fact that Death was on His way. She exhaled slowly and imagined what it would feel like, that sharp jaw bone splitting her in half, gouging through her chest with one quick sweep of Dean’s hand. Would he be quick or let her linger? Would he weep for her in the end? Would he care?

Sam held up a hand, begging for patience. “Dean, you don’t have to do this. We can cure demons-”

Glass shattered behind Y/N and she turned to see the window break. A smoking canister landed by her feet and she looked at Dean, confused and flooded with panic. As her brain and feet got themselves together, the smoke rose around her and she covered her mouth and nose, too late. She started to choke her and beside her, Sam coughed loudly, waving at the smoke to push it away. He inhaled too deeply and stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulder for support. She buckled under his weight and fell to her knees in the cloud. It strangled her from every side, burning her lungs, stinging her eyes. She crawled towards the door and felt Sam’s big hand on her back, pulling her to her feet.

“Come on!”

He hit the door, pushing it open and knocking fresh air into the room, but it was already inside of  them.

Y/N staggered out behind him, barely able to stay on her feet.

Confused and bleary-eyed she saw Sam fall, knocked out by a stranger’s fist.

She rushed out of the bar, leaving the smoke behind and slamming into the arms of Sam’s kidnapper.

“Who the hell are you?”

Blue eyes and a crew cut stared back at her and Y/N coughed, expelling poison from her lungs.

“Me?” she swayed on her feet and swatted at him. “Who the fuck are you!”

Cole grit his teeth and pulled a gun from his thigh holster, easily spinning to take Y/N in his arms and aim the muzzle at her temple.

From the back of the parking lot, Dean appeared, cool and seemingly unaffected by the attack. He held out his arms, cocked a brow as he looked at Cole, wondering who the fuck was bothering him now.

Y/N held still but seethed, nostrils flaring, anger sloshing about in her dizzy head.

Cole’s forearm pressed hard against her throat and he pointed the gun at Dean.

“Wow. It’s really you.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “We met?”

“Talked on the phone.”

“Right.” Dean laughed under his breath. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to put a bullet in Sammy’s brain.” He dipped his chin and smirked, cocky and unimpressed. “Did you miss?”

Dean took a step and Cole tightened up. Y/N clawed at his arm but didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

“Dean-” Her voice was shattered and weak.

Cole pressed the gun against her head again. “You stay there or I’ll-”

“What?” Dean leaned in casually. “You’ll put a bullet in her too? You don’t exactly have a great track record for that.”

Cole growled. She could feel it rumble through his chest and into her. “I’ll do it.”

Y/N blinked up at Dean, begging, but for what, she wasn’t sure. The calm of Death approaching had settled over her once more.

Dean shrugged, his eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

She drew in a breath and everything changed. Cole’s grip on her loosened and she ducked from his arm, ready to rush forward and out of the line of fire. He grabbed her arm and brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of her head. She saw sparks, heard a yell, felt the rough gravel of pavement scrape her face.

When she woke, she was back in her bed in the Bunker, blanket smooth beneath her, boots still on. She’d been carried inside but not tucked in.

Sam.

Her head was pounding, mouth somehow dry and wet at the same time. She swallowed down the guck and rubbed her eyes as she climbed out of bed.

The halls were quiet, the lights bright as always. She peeked into Sam’s room, but it was empty, dared a chance at Dean’s, but he was nowhere to be found either.

What the hell?

A pained, demonic roar echoed down the hallway and Y/N pushed off of her backfoot, breaking into a run.

The dungeon door was open, the decoy shelving pushed aside.

She looked in to see Dean tied to a chair, his face covered in thick sweat, right arm bloody from needle punctures. Sam stood to the side, watching his brother writhe in pain.

“Sam?”

She stepped into the room and both men looked up.

Dean grinned through his strangled panting. “Heya, Sweetheart.”

She rushed forward and Sam stopped her, stepping in her way. He towered over her and looked down, hazel eyes filled with hurt and purpose. “Don’t.”

Dean sucked in a hard breath, lungs burning, blood boiling.

Y/N tried to circle Sam, but he barred her with his good arm.

“What are you doing to him? You’re killing him- look!”

Sam shook his head and gave her shoulder a shove. “Out. Now.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

Dean watched her leave, struggling with consciousness. “Good to see ya, Y/N/N!”

Outside, she ripped her arm from Sam’s giant paw and growled up at him. “What are you doing in there?”

He sucked a breath through his teeth. “Curing my brother.”

“Looks more like you’re killing him! Can’t you hear him screaming? That can’t be good.” She turned to the door and again, Sam blocked her.

He softened, lowering his voice and easing his stance. “Look, I know you’re worried but-”

“But what? You’ve got it all under control as usual?”

He dropped his head. “He has to go through this. He’ll survive.”

She looked up, tears wetting the corners of her eyes. “How do you know? How do you know this won’t actually rip his soul apart and kill him?”

He let his head fall back against the door, resting for a split second. “I don’t.”

Hours ticked by with Y/N pacing the halls, listening as Dean’s wretched voice echoed through her, tearing at her heart.

Sam wouldn’t let her inside, but she caught glimpses of Dean when Sam came out for air. He was dripping in sweat, slumped down in the chair.

“Are you sure about this?”

He brushed past, barely holding on himself. “Honestly, Y/N… I don’t know anymore. But we’re almost done. He’ll either come out of this cured or-”

She held her tongue. “Yeah.”

Sam turned left and headed towards his room.

“Sam?”

He paused before rounding the corner.

“Should you and I- I mean, we should probably-”

He held up his hand, but was kind when he turned. “I know. We need to talk. I need to apologize. I just need- I gotta finish this first. I need to save him.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Sam. I know.”

Sam had been gone for a while, so she took a chance.

Y/N slipped into the dungeon with a bottle of water and a damp cloth, her heart in her throat, her head in a vice.

Dean was limp in the chair, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes gently closed. She toed the Devil’s Trap, watching, praying to see a breath.

“Dean?”

He stirred and she sighed. “Thank God.”

A chuckle lifted his face to hers. “God ain’t got shit to do with this, babydoll.” He smiled and then coughed, heavy, painfully. His chest heaved, his mouth fell open as he strained for air.

“Dean… fuck.”

Before she knew it, she was inside the sigil and kneeling at his feet. She pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead and he sighed gratefully as she wiped the sweat from his brow.

“That’s… that’s nice.” His voice was cracked, throat raw from screaming.

She patted his cheeks, his throat, lay the cloth across the back of his neck.

“Are you OK?”

She looked him over, certain he was near to fading. His arm was torn from the needles and she could swear The Mark looked paler, as if Sam’s cure was pulling the evil from it. Maybe it was working…

Dean smiled. “Oh, sure. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” A cough shook him badly and Y/N held his cheek, unable to help.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She cracked open the bottle of water and held it to his lips, urging him to drink.

He managed a tiny sip and then pulled back.

“I’m dying, Y/N/N.” His head lolled to the side and her heart ached.

“No.” She grabbed at his flannel and shook him gently. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re Dean Fucking Winchester. You are going to be fine. You hear me?”

Green eyes rolled back to white and Y/N set her hand on his chest, rubbing hard.

“Hey! Hey! Dean! No. Wake up!”

She slapped his cheek and he sucked in a heavy breath, gasping loudly as his eyes snapped open.

“Oh, Jesus, Dean!”

Before relief could set in, Dean’s fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and his pained smile turned into a devilish grin. He squeezed and her pulse quickened.

“What’re you doing? How?”

She looked down to see the ropes that had held his arms frayed and broken. “Dean?”

A blink shattered his beautiful green eyes and only black remained. He laughed. “You showed up just in time…”

It was like a rush of wind inside her head and all around.

In a flash, Dean had her up off the floor, her feet dangling, throat clutched in his big hand. He slammed her against the wall and held her there, lungs screaming, eyes bulging. He traced a hand down her body and tilted his head to the side, watching the blood rise to the surface of her skin. Aroused even as her breath died away.

“See, I don’t get you.” He let her slide down the wall until her toes scraped the floor. “Sammy warns you not to come looking for me by yourself and you do. He tells you not to come in here, and not only do you ignore him again, but you bring me a bottle of water. You came in here to take care of me. And for what?” His fingers squeezed and she felt her heart strain to pump. “You think you can ease my pain? Make it all better?” He brushed a hand over her breast and grinned. “Or maybe you think I’ll fuck you again.”

He tossed his head back and laughed.

“You’re a stupid little girl.” He blinked away the black and dipped his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. “But I do enjoy watching you suffocate… I never told you that before, but it’s beautiful. Your eyes get real wide and the color starts to drain from your mouth. This sweet, delicious mouth.”

He forced his tongue inside and Y/N’s eyes rolled back. She clawed at his arm, but the strength was gone, the will fading close behind. Her vision ebbed and her fingers slid from his arm, falling limp at her sides.

“Do me a favor, babydoll,” he whispered, licking at her lips one final time. “Wait for me right here.”

With a flick of his wrist, she was on the floor, falling like a ragdoll at his feet. Air filled her lungs but she was already too far gone to wake fully. She tried to move, but everything was a struggle, everything ached.

“I’ve gotta go take care of my baby brother.” He ran a hand through his hair and she watched in horror as he stepped out of the Devil’s Trap. “Then I’ll be back for you."

Kind blue eyes were there when she woke and soft hands were helping her to sit up.

Castiel smiled sadly and lay his palm across her forehead like a mother would.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N blinked rapidly, clearing the haze from her eyes. She squinted up at the angel and then panicked.

“Dean!” She scrambled to her feet, leaping from her bed and grabbing his arm for balance. “Where’s Dean!”

Castiel took both of her hands in his and forced her to calm down. “He’s fine. He’s…” A smile turned his pink lips. “It worked, Y/N. Dean’s back with us.”

It felt like the walls were crumbling inside of her. Everything slid downwards and she went with it, falling against Castiel, her body exhausted, her mind a mess of relief and worry.

He sank to the floor with her and held her close.

“He’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “You are too.”

The summer rushed through her head, ups and downs, horrors and worse. She saw black eyes and blood, felt every bruise, every strike against her flesh.

She wiped her eyes and sat back. “How?”

Castiel looked down, eyes sad but clear. “Time.”

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, fresh from a shower. His hair still damp, gray flannel a little dark around the collar from collecting the drippings. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hand.

She knocked gently and he looked up.

“Hey, Dean.”

He turned as he stood and started to go to her, but something stopped him. Flashes of what he’d done played on the empty space between them and he lingered over the bruises on her throat, the cut on her forehead. His fingers were twitching and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the unwanted movements.

“Hey.”

She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but he looked nervous to have her there, scared almost.

She cleared her throat and wrung her hands. “You feeling OK?”

Eyes on the floor, he nodded. “Yeah. All good.” He looked up through his lashes, afraid to face her fully. “You?”

She sniffed back a wave of tears and swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m- I’m good.”

The lies hung like an iron curtain between them, massive and unbreachable.

She turned to go. “Well, if you need anything, just holler.”

He was on her before she reached the door, shaking fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her back. She spun and crashed into his chest, burying her face in his shirt, clinging to him. He was warm and alive. He was safe. He was home.

She could feel him trembling, hear the shaky intake of air. He held her tight, his big hand on the back of her head, the other slung around her middle. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Y/N, I can’t- I- I’m so sorry-”

His heart was racing against her ear and she snuck her arms around him, locking him to her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “We don’t have to do that yet. Just… just be here.”

A tear escaped his eye and fell, landing on her arm.

“OK.” His hug grew a little tighter. “I’m here.”

She sighed and let the tears go. “That’s all I ever needed…”

2024 Tags 

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[observers-journal]

Omg Chan I am dying 🤣😭🤣😭🤣😭🤣

The gifs make his awkwardness even more visible oh my god I'm having second hand embarrassment 🙈 but also, goals! No fucks given.

This video was a true test of my attraction for Tenoch (I'll always love him). He really tested me here. I have concluded he has done some witchcraft coz his spell didn't wear off even after this 🤣😭

Let's show some love to our pouty tío Tenoch 😘

I just had to screenshot these. As much as we love our man, I can't deal with him in this video 🤣🤣🤣

The most serious dancer in the group. Stiff as a log.

Link to the full music video in case you haven't seen it (bonus: he's half naked there for a split second 🤭)

I take no responsibility if you're traumatized in any way.

[thegoldfisharmy]

I've been getting back into Pokemon cards lately so I'm compiling pokemon teams for a few Invader Zim characters. Starting with the spaceboy himself.

Poipole: It's an alien, it's purple (Zim's favorite color), and it squirts glue (Zim's first line of defense against filthy earth water) from the spines on it's head.

Iron Bundle: This is as close to "Gir as a pokemon" as we're gonna get imo. It's a weird, chaotic little robot dude, and the Delibird it's clearly based on is known to store miscellaneous objects in it's bundle, not unlike how Gir stores things in his head.

Combee [male]: A pathetic worker drone, like Zim. He'd probably try to evolve it for weeks or months before realizing males can't evolve.

Mimikyu: It's another little weird guy with a disguise that both leaves a bit to be desired, and happens to be of something it despises

Flamigo: It's a lawn flamingo, not unlike the decorations Zim keeps in his front lawn.

Porygon-Z: Instead of getting a normal Porygon2, Zim is stuck with this glitched-out mess.

[familyfunds]

The neighborhood is (slowly) coming together 🥲

I've been using @keoni-chan's Calypso Island as a base because I found it's the perfect size; not too big, not too small, and I love that it has beach lots.

I've made quite a few changes, though, with SimPE to make sure it works the way I've envisioned (removing and added roads, moving a few roads around for the beach lots to work how I've intended, etc).

I've also been working on the community lot names, Sim backstories, etc. My goal would be to end up with enough Sims to replicate one of the included Sims 2 base game hoods to allow for rotation play with lore, backstories, etc. I'd also like to create a university subhood, but ... that's going to be a project of its own 😆

A few sneak peaks of what's to come:

The Filthy Flamingo Where the drinks are cheap, the music is loud, and the regrets don’t hit until morning. From the neon pink lights to the questionable stains on the dance floor, The Filthy Flamingo is the city’s go-to spot for those who want to drink, dance, and make bad decisions. The first floor is all about drowning your sorrows, but if you really want to lose yourself, the real party happens in the basement. Just don’t ask what that smell is.

Flamingo Joe’s 24-Hour Diner Stumbling out of The Filthy Flamingo? Good news—you don’t have to stumble far. Right next door to the city's most infamous nightclub, Flamingo Joe’s has been serving up greasy, questionable comfort food for years. Whether you need to soak up the night's regrets or just want to witness the town’s best (and worst) late-night drama, this is the place to be. Open 24 hours, because bad decisions don’t keep business hours.

[digizinzin]

Film Önerisi: Harmony Korine'den "Gummo"

yeryüzünün tüm pislikleri gözlerinizin önüne serilse, bunu izlemeye tahammül edebilir miydiniz? bu sorunun cevabına evet diyenleri, zamanının genç yeteneği korine, "Gummo"ya 89 dakika boyunca katlanmaya davet ediyor. pek çoğu tarafından kötü bulunan bu film, aslında beğenilmediğinden değil; rahatsız ediciliğinden dolayı eleştiriliyor. ama korine'in amaçladığı şey de tam olarak bu. yeri geldiğinde ekrandan gözünüzü kaçırmanıza sebep olacak sahnelere dahi yer veren senarist ve yönetmen, aslında insanlığın en utanç verici, iğrenç, korkunç ve akıl almaz yönlerini; tüm çıplaklığıyla seyirciyle buluşturuyor.

90'lar ve 2000'lerin havalı ikilisi harmony korine ve chloë sevigny'nin birlikte çalıştıkları "Gummo"nun kostümleri, tamamen new york’un blonde bombshell'i chloë'ye ait. klüp kültürü ile ismi birlikte anınan ikonlaşmış chloe, "Gummo"da rolünü üstlendiği dot karakteri ile unutulmaz bir imaj çiziyor. geçen sene trend olan ve şu an dahi yüksek moda olarak görülen "bleached brows" görünüşü, aslında 26 sene önceden chloë tarafından ön görülmüş. başka bir örnek ise, solomon karakteri spor yaparken madonna'dan "like a prayer" dinliyor olarak görülüyor. solomon'un, kutu sarı boyalı saçlı annesi; pembe bir takım giymiş bir şekilde az sonra sahneye giriyor ve oğlu spor yaparken o da dans ediyor. film yayınlandıktan yaklaşık 8 sene sonra, madonna'yı neredeyse aynı görüntüyle, "hung up" klibinde görüyoruz. yani bu filmin, kostüm ve makyaj açısından bir ders niteliğinde olduğunu söylesek yalan söylemiş olmayız.

hayvanlara şiddetten tecavüze, ırkçılıktan hırsızlığa; aklınıza gelebilecek her şeyi, bir filmden ziyade bir belgeselmişçesine yüzümüze vuran "Gummo", pislik kavramı denince akla gelen ilk yapımlardan. ama buna yön veren dersek, hollywood'un çatlağı john waters'ın hakkını yemiş oluruz. waters'ın 1972 yılında, toplumsal tüm edep ve ahlak kurallarını yıkarak gösterime sürdüğü "Pink Flamingos", gerçek hayatta drag sahnesinde ikonlaşmış bir kraliçe olan divine'ı başrol olarak alıyor. filmde, dünyanın en "filthy" insanı olan divine (gerçek kişiden bağımsız), ayak takımıyla birlikte gözlerden uzak bir şekilde pisliğini yaymak için amerika'nın her bir yanını dolaşıyor. "Gummo"yu fazla rahatsız edici bulmayan arkadaşları, insanlığın pisliğini gerçekçilikten ziyade absürd bir şekilde fakat daha inanılmaz seviyelerde ele alan "Pink Flamingos"u izlemeye davet ediyoruz. bakalım gerçekten ne kadar midesizsiniz?

-Enes Kazel 5.12.2024

[eradicatetehnormal]

My Zoomer Ass Watched Pink Flamingos For the First Time

So, I think? I enjoyed that. My taste in media is what most would consider garbage, but relatively safe garbage. Stuff that's garbage in the sense that it's poorly written or executed, not in the sense that it's genuinely filthy. I mean, 90% of my blog is dedicated to a video game series with anime and Disney characters, so yeah, I was really out of my element here.

So first off, I really like the way the movie characterizes Divine in the beginning. The standout scene for me was her putting raw meat between her legs. I didn't get it at first, but I read an interpretation of that scene where the writer said that Divine is meant to be, well, filthy. She shits on femininity and leaks nasty body fluids. She would always prefer to have flesh touching her, even if it's raw meat. That's genius characterization, imo.

The central plot of the movie is very entertaining, as well. I love the concept of two rivals duking it out to see who's the worst. We get some great moments out of it like Divine receiving a box of shit or her and her crew killing and eating those officers.

The main reason this movie has been on my mind is because a Youtube channel I'm starting to fancy, Anthony Gramuglia, recently made a video about how we need more bad queer representation, a sentiment I agree with. I'll always have more of an interest queer content that isn't about two, skinny, white boys from upper-middle-class neighborhoods talking about the pressures of being in the closet *bleh!* I'm just sick of seeing that shit hyped up.

But it was interesting. This film was one of the main examples of how unsanitized and offensive queer media used to be. That it wasn't as concerned with making queer people look good. Don't get me wrong, the character of Divine is anything but inoffensive, at the same time though, I feel like this movie makes her out to be the lesser of two evils. I mean, yeah Divine is gross, blowing her son, shitting in public, and cannibalizing people? That's pretty nasty, but she never reaches the heights of people who run a sex trafficking ring and flash themselves in public consistently ('cause I mean like, you gotta clean up the police bodies somehow, you can't have that stinking up your property. Also, that was arguably self-defense, the people at the party weren't really doing anything wrong.). She even does something somewhat heroic by letting the two women locked in the couple's basement free and get revenge on their rapist. I thought she was going to kill the two afterward.

Maybe that's the point, though. That there's a difference between being filthy and being evil. Also, Divine's revenge was just way better. Burning down a trailer and your ops aren't even inside? Cowardly.

This was an interesting watch. I can't go into detail about how much of a landmark this was on queer cinema and cinema in general. I just know that it was. On a scale of personal enjoyment, I'd give this a 7/10. And yeah, kill everyone now, condone first-degree murder, advocate cannibalism, eat shit. My final message. Goodbye.

[ms-scarletwings]

Creacher Feature Friday 10: That’s No Spoonbill, but it’s Pretty in Pink!

Or should it be called Flamingo Friday, ha ha! eyyyy 👉🥴👉

Requiring little more introduction than that, most people already perceive these as unique enough birds at face value, with their odd shapes, famously salmon-to-pink plumage, and stylish struts; indeed, these bubblegum swans have captured the hearts of many the bird enthusiast and the intrepid lawn decorator. Nonetheless, all that shimmers in the sun is not cheap plastic, and there are many layers of deeper weirdness behind the flamingo than most could imagine. Let’s see if we can take a crack at it below!

As we begin with our triple Fs (fun flamingo facts), there’s no better place to begin covering like the basics. Flamingos, of the family Phoenicopteridae, are omnivorous shorebirds which live in large social flocks, or “flamboyances”, and use their specialized beaks to filter feed algae and small organisms from the waters they do love to wade. Though we often refer to them as one sort of animal, there’s actually six total species of flamingo. Two of them can be found in Africa, and the other four call the central and southern Americas their native home.

Very fittingly, you may notice that the smallest species has been dubbed the Lesser flamingo, while the largest of the family is the Greater bird, at least in height! Besides general size, the bulk of the morphological difference between these species actually goes into the specialization of their bills. Which does make sense, as their different migratory patterns and natural ranges have long fine tuned them for maximizing what they could gain of their own localized food sources.

Personally, I’d call the American Flamingo my favorite of the batch. It’s just almost about as big as the tallest ones, while standing apart as their most vibrantly colored cousins. Also known as the Caribbean flamingo, it’s also the only species actually native to the North American range as well as the Caribbean and Galápagos Islands.

For some, it’s a commonly held, intuitive misconception that flamingos find close relatives in that of the spoonbill storks or water-wading cranes, but it actually turns out that they share a much closer evolutionary line with that of grebes. What’s a grebe? They’re little and funny and they look like this

So certainly another funky bird of all time. What’s an even stranger piece of their history is the fact that these two animal types share a closer genetic lineage to that of land doves than they do to other water birds. Yeah, that’s including herons and ducks. The things we would near never guess without DNA analysis is such a head screw, sometimes. Or at least, a head scratcher.

You are what you eat

To speak again of the firey fashion sense of the marsh prowling American Flamingo, they in fact, like all Phoenicopteridae species, owe their coloration to a steady diet of aquatic organisms and plant matter they separate from the water with their teeth- well, not “teeth” per se, more like these unnerving, toothy ridges along their bills and yes, tongue.

Both mouth features act together much like the bristles of a baleen whale’s own jaws to comb and trap all manner of delicious critters and algae that the birds so love to snack on. Critters and algae that just so happen to also be filthy rich in carotenoids (organic, warm-color pigments) responsible for the natural colors of MANY living things, in fact: from the pink flesh of salmon who draw from the same food web, to lobsters, to pumpkins, and especially carrots, which can even alter the color of human skin if eaten in huge excess. In other words, you can tell a lot about how a flamingo’s been eating lately from the vibrance of its feathers. Their offspring, logically, come out as an adorably blank, fresh canvas of sort.

Unfortunately, though, you may notice they also enter the world with wimpy little bills not as equipped to start scooping krill and small fish out of the shore. So, how’s the grey lil goober to eat, then? Easy, the same way pigeons and male emperor penguins feed their own young, interestingly:

🍼🦩Bird Milk~! ✨

Yeah that’s right, lactation is yet one more thing mammals can’t say they hold a true monopoly on! Okay fine, there are a few differences. In this handful of avians, milk produced to nurture hatchlings is secreted by the lining of the crop (the first major stop in the digestive tract of a bird) and then regurgitated into the younger’s waiting mouth. This is also why the formal name for the stuff is “crop milk��. Nutritionally speaking, it’s high in protein and fats, but where it really differs from mammalian secretions is that it lacks carbohydrates. Most fascinatingly, though, the process of making crop milk and the process of mammalian milk production are induced by the same hormone- prolactin. What makes this phenomenon all the weirder in flamingos is all of those aforementioned carotenoids I mentioned them eating… well, funny side effect of that seems to be that it turns their milk blood red. Big part of why this specific “creepy” photo circulated like wildfire in some places of the internet.

Brutal as it may appear on first glance, it’s actually a wholesome demonstration of two proud parents working together to grow up a healthy and well-fed baby! You may also notice that the parents themselves look practically ghostly in the image. Just another side effect of good parenting. All of that sharing food means less pretty color juice for mom and dad to spare on their own appearance.

But this all this cozy attention within the nest site marks only the first few days of a chick’s life. By the passage of the first couple weeks, the newborn has begun to waddle around and explore well beyond the spot it hatched from, eventually joining up into massive groupings (called crèches) with the rest of the colony’s wee ones.

While mom and dad will still feed their own children, the crèche itself is guarded communally by the flock’s adults, related or not. It’s a behavior also seen in some penguin species to maximize the safety of an entire community’s offspring from predation. And these communities can be massive in the wild, made up of anywhere from hundreds to even thousands of breeding flamingos. Recent study has even indicated a greater depth to their social behavior than we’ve suspected before, complete with complex inter-group dynamics, the forming of cliques between birds of similar personality, and even what resembled friendship bonds between individual flamingos that would play a social support role for one another during conflicts. As well, the colony itself sticks together tightly and acts as one unit when it comes to the most essential stuff- migrating, feeding, and most particularly in breeding. Courting and nesting rituals are synchronized among the entire flock, with individual flamingos pairing off into monogamous partnerships for the whole of the season. Typically, they will lay one egg, sometimes more rarely fostering an unrelated hatchling, as in the case of the occasional same-sex pairing (another similarity they seem to hold in common with penguins).

And what time they are given to fill with such rich social lives! In the wild, flamingos are known to live between 20 and 30 years, but under captive care they have been known to top out into their 40s-50s. On the most extreme end, we have even seen outliers such as Betty, a captive Caribbean flamingo who passed away at 67 years old, and the world record achieving Greater, who stretched out to an astounding 83 years old in an Australian zoo before being humanly euthanized. Whoever said that the brightest flame must also burn the fastest was clearly leaving these wonderful birds out of their metaphor.

And so fare thee well, flamingos. For a first, we have a relatively popular animal to hand the spotlight moment for this tidbit. Hoping that I played at least a tiny part to mystify and then immediately demystify something new about a quirky, frilly dinosaur. Until next 💞

[tsuki-sennin]

*Deep breath* Wahahahaha~! Make way, peons! It's a festival, a festival I say! Coming to Sorashido City whether you like it or not! Wahahahaha! So... Princess Elle of Sky Land is feeling great sorrow? Well now... we can hardly have that now can we?

This tremendous sweet sixteen for Hirogaru Sky PreCure! Is it a worthy telling of such an iconic legend?

Oh, by the way, by the time you're likely reading this, it's the birthday of our very own Tsubasa Yuunagi~!

By the way, here be spoilers! You'd best tread with caution!

-Everywhere I go... I see his face. Tarou-san...

-Bwuh? Oh yeah, Ranborgs.

-And Captain Shalala just dipped.

-By the way Sora, I'm very proud of you for kicking so much ass last episode, you were awesome.

-Ageha, now hardly seems the time for puns.

-The birthday boy grits his teeth.

-Hello, Yoyo-san.

-"What's their fucking deal, Grandma?"

-Light and shadow. Heaven and Hell. North Carolina and South Carolina.

-Ohhhhhh!

-K

-Kira Kira Energy.

-...this feels oddly familiar.

-An apothecary~!

-Papa, Mama, yes~!

-Aw :(

-Kanashimi o taiji shite yu- No Tsuki! Restrain yourself. It's not yet time.

-Uhhhhh, theme song! I forget if I talked about it yet, but it's delightfully hopeful and (as expected of a Toei franchise) masterfully composed. The percussion especially is immaculate, a good percussion section knows exac

-Onitaijin.

-Ohhhh, puppet show~!

-Pretty Princess Butterfly.

-You are very based, Tsubasa. I forgive you, you filthy crimin- *Smack!* Focus!

-Momotaro~!

-We must hurry to Onigashima.

-Well, we could retell the story with an odd cast from previous seasons... Love/Peach would make a good Momotaro just off her name alone, you could make a strong argument for casting Kokone/Spicy or Akira/Chocolat as the dog, Asuka/Flamingo of course could be the pheasant as it's a neorinthe like a flamingo...

-I'm not quite sure who'd be the monkey in this case. ...Ako/Muse, perhaps? I'm genuinely not sure, I only started watching Suite a little while ago, but she does give me monkey vibes. Minori/Papaya'd make a good substitute if you don't think that counts though.

-She shreep

-Puppet play~!

-Don! Don! Donbura ko!

-Don Elletaro~! Fully formed and armed to the teeth!

-Prop recycling~! Wouldn't be a Toei production without it, huh?

-Well, you know how it is, Mashiron! Everybody loves to play with the tropes of fairy tales~! It's why we as a society love Shrek so much. And RWBY... and I guess if you're me, Saber.

-Yooooo! Nippon Ichi!

-Dango~!

-Furry Sora Jumpscare!

-Keep your face out of the kibble and we'll be just fine.

-Free Bread~!

-Elleeeetaro Zan, Elletaro Zan!

-And now... a Haiku.

Light from the blue sky

Caught in the shining prisms

Rainbows gayly form.

-Y'know, Shinichi would be giving Mashiro girl advice. And she'd go for it.

-We're all going pretty quick, eh? Mmmm... Momotaro had to do a bit of walking after.

-...there is a surprising (read: distressing) level of similarity between Tsubasa (Yuunagi, moderate amount of issues) and Tsuyoshi (Kijino, lots of issues).

-Y'know, male character in a predominantly female role, used for comic relief fairly often, being wildly popular among fans on Tumblr... all I'm saying is you might wanna keep an eye on Wing's love life. For his sake, and ours.

-We laughed, we cried, we had wacky misunderstandings, we had insane romance subplots, people died and came back, Kaito was there...

-To the port!

-Onigashima! Where the ogres gather.

-Ohhhhhhh

-There's something about the Underg, huh Granny?

-Elletaro's companions stand resolute in spite of their fears.

-This is the good stuff.

-...apparently the princess isn't quite a big fan. ...give it a few more minutes, it'll be really good.

-Here comes creepy Battamonda~! Who... most assuredly is not a Noto analogue. That's probably better reserved for Captain Shalala or from a certain perspective Kabaton.

-Oniiiiiiiiii~!

-Ageha may be voicing the Oni, but she's definitely no Haruka. ...if anything, she's much more of a Jiro type. Arguably even more so than whatever Fifth Cure we'll be getting.

-Hirogaru-ki!

-The special effects are ruined! Your suit budget is in shambles! The shippers are going apeshit!

-She walks!

-She speaks!

-She's done it!

-Baa~!

-The cloud has lifted.

-For Elletaro! Princess Elletaro~!

-...so uh... where're Sora's parents in all this?

-I don't mean to ruin this nice moment, but I find it a little concerning that they don't seem to have been appearing much.

-BIRDS

-"What up, fellas?"

-Instead of kidnapping, Battamonda prefers a spot of murder.

-Whoa, perfect catch!

-Hell yeah, Prism Punch!

-I love how floaty these fight scenes are.

-Down they go!

-Eat my ass, Battamonda.

-Keep moving forward! The princess says so!

-Wahahahahahahahaha! Shine on, dear companions!

-Whoa! Flash Bang!

-Man, the Sky Mirage just seems like a really neat little toy to play with.

-Into the mirror~! Okay!

-Mermaid Aqua Pot Moment.

-Have you considered maybe you're just a moron?

-Thank you again, Elle-chan.

-Walk style.

-Elletaro-san~! Elletaro-san~!

-Bread...

-So let's get the party started~! Don Don, Iitokomikke~! Tokuige! Ni mune harou ze Brother! WOO!

-Ah, uh, outro, outro! Very catchy, love the rhyme structure, the Butterfly teasing is making me seethe and cope, get your skinny ass in there already babe.

-Mashiron must run! And never look back!

-Now if you excuse me, I do believe I have an installment of a certain other franchise to get back to. One that also involves floating sky kingdoms, ancient legends, knights and heroes, a pig-themed villain, wildly bucking franchise conventions, gender stuff, and horrifying underground monstrosities.

-...look I could've just said "Zelda" and there'd have been no question, but that's okay, see youuuuuu~!

[kornynao]

i always thought well when i was in middleschool i saw the pink flamingos and thought it was filthy that gay men would eat shit and i thought it was a sign of mental illness …. you know. thoughts that a middle schooler would have. now im in my mid twenties and i love it when women piss in me, and on me.