#i think a lot of movies these days suffer from really slow starts and then they drag

[wp100]

watched the most recent ghostbusters movie (frozen empire?)

It was alright. I preferred afterlife, but still really enjoyed this one. lots of character development and good humour

[iwashie]

Sevika, and reader on her period headcanon...

Sevika is in her late 30s and probably doesn't suffer with her period-or do-, but dating a younger woman, at the peak of hormones and period, makes her think about her time and asks herself how she handles you and all your versions during it.

She knows your period is coming by just seeing your breasts swelling, some complaints about your back hurting, and mood changing during the day as you always do but never remember it's that time of the month.

She always has a lot of pads, your favorite food stockpiled, medicine for your various pains, always ready to massage your back, legs and belly, brings you a lot of water and a hot water bottle for cramps.

"Doll, it's normal to have a period. Don't be angry or disgusting for it. I know you don't like having pains, and all that stuff period brings on, but it's normal. And you have me by your side."

Your mood swings are a challenge for her, but she handles somehow. Just like the day you two were walking around Zaun, enjoying a street food you begged her to buy and then she notices you're not by her side, looking back to see you stuck in the place, your eyes on the ground, on your food on the ground. She immediately ran back to you, soothing you as your eyes filled with tears and mumbled that you haven't even bitten. "That's alright, doll. Have mine and everything is fine."

Or the day she made a joke at the wrong time and wrong place, making everyone at the table in Last Drop alternate gaze between you two just to look away when you lashed out on her and left the place without her. Or the day a woman looked at her for too long, and you had to show that woman that your woman was your woman. Or tried to throw punches at every man whistling at you- Ran had to stop you and Sevika at this one.

She thought your period cravings were something else. Why so much sugar?!? It's was possible worse than pregnancy cravings. "Are you on your period, or are you pregnant?

"I'm craving something sweet, like really sweet." You said, searching for something in the cabinets. "Have some sugar." You looked at her with fire on your eyes, and she felt a cold sweat run down her back. "What about some chocolate cake, ice cream, or some food deep-rooted with sugar? I'll buy it, doll."

She can't keep up with your energy, always accepting whatever you want and following behind you everywhere with a scowl, but making sure you're good, safe, and happy. She doesn't understand how you have so much energy left after doing a lot of things during the day to her about your day and plans, just to fall asleep suddenly.

She also handled you crying over everything and making traps for her, like asking her if she'd love you if you were a worm, or her worst nightmare: "Would you love me if I was from topside?" and her long silence was answer enough for you to start weeping. "Doll, it's just a dumb thought. Of course I'd love you and gonna be with you forever. I promise!"

She prefers to handle you when you are calmer, too sore to handle the world on your back, and stays in bed, being doted by her. She always cuddles you, her human hand on your belly to warm it up, whispering sweet nothings or watching a movie with you, both wrapped in the blankets. "I love you too, doll."

Maybe the best thing about your period is the much horniness you have during it. Your wild side is always showing up at this time of the month; always teasing her with dirty whispers, handsy. She loves fucking you, making love to you, making you cum and all. But, damn, you've come three times already, and you're looking at her with those eyes again, and she isn't young anymore, she needs to catch her breath. "Please, Vika. Just one more. You can use your fingers on me this time. Pleaseee."

She loves it when you are horny and take the lead, playing with yourself, teasing her until she does something about it and makes slow, tender, sweaty love to you. "Fuck, doll. Your pussy is so wet and creamy for me, gotta fuck it properly, huh. Do you want this? Want my cock deep inside your pussy? Good girl, doll..."

Your crazy ideas always caught her by surprise. She is sure that these ideas are made up before your period, and you only come with them to blame on the "period hehehe"

"You know what? I really want-" "Please, a normal thing for once." "You to impregnate me." A silence in the room. "Impossible, doll." "What do you mean it's impossible? DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?" "It's biological Impossible to get you pregnant with my babies." "Well. We gotta keep trying, vika!"

Your low self-esteem is the biggest problem, like how she's gonna put inside your head that you are the most beautiful person in Zaun? The prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on! "Your body is completely fine! Your skin is normal! You're not fat, square, or I don't know! Your clothes are completely fitting, you're fucking beautiful and perfect. The only woman for me, doll!"

At the end of your period, she would be exhausted, needing vacations away from Zaun, but glad to have you surviving another period without trying to kill her and every other Zaun citizen. She would be so glad to have her girl back, not that you're much different but still.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 5 - If You Let Me

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Welcome back Sam Winchester I’m sorry about your girlfriend are you ready to suffer for thousands of words as these two idiots dance around each other?

Chapter title from when the party's over by Billie Eilish

Word Count: 16.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean calls you for a case, you grapple with your growing power, and Sam has questions. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, monster of the week.

Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

Read on A03!

No matter what happens, Dean can never be allowed to know how fast you’re driving. Especially because every single traffic violation you commit is in his name. In the hope of seeing him just ten minutes sooner.

In your defense, you haven’t seen him in person in almost three months. You’d gone on a hunt together, parted with the usual smile and awkward high five, and then he’d just stopped asking to you hunt with him. He hasn’t left, hasn’t vanished, and he’s been the one calling you to talk, but he just doesn’t even mention hunts anymore. You just don’t see him. And over those four months of missing him—and shoving that aching, whining feeling deep, deep down where it couldn’t feed into the White’s vast desire—he’s started to sound… off.

“Did you know that people could curse animals?”

“Yeah,” you’d said, glancing down the hall to make sure Bobby was still gone, and not about to barge in and catch you talking to Dean. “I think you can curse most anything. I’ve heard of like, babies being cursed.”

“That’s creepy, Princess.”

“I didn’t curse them-“ You’d cut yourself off with a frown. “Did you and John run into a cursed animal?”

“Uh. No?”

You’d raised your brows. “Why are you asking me, I wasn’t there.”

“No, I’m just- It’s complicated. I’ll tell you later. How did that hunt in Montana go?”

“Oh, super fucking easy.” And it had been. You may have destroyed a fire hydrant when the chimera chased after you—unable to contain or aim the Darkness like you could when you were with Dean—and almost bashed your head against the wall from the sickness crawling over your head and setting it on fire when you returned to the motel, but you’d been done in a day. And you’d been lonely—hollow and long and vastly lonely—but Dean didn’t need to know that. “What’s complicated?”

He’d sighed into the speaker. “I said I’d tell you later-“

“Are you safe?”

There had been a long pause of static noise. You’d been about to check if the call dropped—Bobby didn’t really get great reception—when Dean spoke again. His voice had sounded soft.

It had been worrying.

“I’m alright,” he’d whispered your name, and your grip on the phone had tightened. “It’s- There’s a lot going on right now.”

You’d frowned into the air, the White making a pathetic noise like it could convince you to take a car and just go. Go to Dean—you didn’t even know where he was—and try to help him with whatever was a lot, when you’d probably end up making it worse. You always made things worse.

You might have also destroyed a tree. And a mailbox. And a good part of the road.

Dean clears his throat, his tone almost nervous through the speaker. “Where are you?”

“Me?”

He'd chuckled. “Yeah, unless there’s someone else on the phone I should know about-“

“Shut up.” You’d rolled your eyes, sitting up in your seat as an engine sounded outside. “Shit.”

“Where’s Shit-“

“No, that’s not- Sorry, Dean, I have to go-“

“Why?” Through the phone, you hadn’t been able to tell if that was his worried voice or angry voice. “Are you-“

“I’m alright, I just-“

“Where the hell are you-“

“I’m home, in South-“ You’d cut yourself off with an internal grimace. Fucking Dean and his way of making you accidentally say too much of the truth all the time, even over the phone. “Park.”

“Isn’t that a TV show?”

Shit. Dean mostly watches children’s cartoons, daytime soap operas in motels, and really old movies. You hadn’t expected him to know that.

“No?”

“Why are you asking me-“

“Shut up. I really have to go-“

“Alright, alright, just, if you’re not busy, we’re near Pittsburgh. We could use your help.”

You’d frowned, taking careful steps up to your room, praying that Bobby wouldn’t immediately start looking for you when he got inside. “I don’t think John would want my help-“

“Not Dad.” Dean had sighed, and you could picture him running his hand over his face. “Sammy.”

You’d frozen, the door not fully closed. “Your brother? He’s done with college?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. Kind of. It’s-“

“Don’t say complicated.”

“Uh,” he’d paused. “Complicated.”

“Dean-“

“I couldn’t think of another word! What the hell else-“

“Messy? Confusing? Complex?”

“You know Princess, you’re really annoying-“

You’d scoffed. “That’s no way to talk your very good friend and possible savior. Message me where to meet you.”

“So you’re coming?”

“Yeah.” You’d grinned into the air, keeping an ear on the door as Bobby shuffled around downstairs. “I want to meet your brother.”

Dean had groaned. “You know, you’ve met him before-“

“Doesn’t count. I want to actually talk to him this time.”

“Fucking- Fine, but no funny business, or asking him stupid questions.”

You’d hummed. “No.”

He’d snapped your name into the phone, right as Bobby had called it from downstairs, and you really did have to go. 

“See you soon, Deano.”

You’d hung up, and barely a second later Bobby had knocked on your door.

“Hey,” he’d grunted you name, and you were pretty sure he hadn’t heard anything. “You in there?”

“Yeah, wait-“ You’d checked your hand and glanced in the mirror—no bite marks or scratches, the only evidence of your pain living inside where Bobby couldn’t see it—and opened the door with your best nothing’s wrong smile. “Welcome home, old man.”

Bobby had scoffed, scanned over you with narrowed eyes, and then met your gaze with a small, tight smile. “Ain’t I the one who’s supposed to- shit-“

You’d wrapped him in a tight hug, squeezing him and letting out the long breath you always held when you left. It was an oath you kept trying to keep for yourself, that you’d always come back home because you had to let out that breath. That the highways were long, and the nights were lonely, and the Darkness kept building and building inside you—sinking deeper and deeper into the White until there was always some part of you that strained and screamed from the pain of trying to pry them apart—but you had a home to come back to, and one person who’d never call you a burden.

Because you’ve grown sicker. You only grow sicker. You only destroy more and more things, and the Darkness only slips away from you with more ease, but Bobby doesn’t give up on you. 

The demons began, and they won’t stop coming, but Bobby doesn’t give up on you. 

Dozens of demons, more and more every month, ever since that one demon you’d killed for Dean. You don’t know why. You don’t know what beacon lit up inside of you, what’s calling every single fucking demon in America to come and find you wherever you went, but they are. They do.

It's been random. Gas stations and grocery stores, on random hunts and waiting for you near your car. It’s worse when you’re alone. When the Darkness and the pain get overwhelming to the point that you’re barely you anymore, and you end up curled in a bathtub, breathing heavy through your nose. Your clothing in a pile of the floor because it aches to touch something as sick as you, the whole room disgustingly clean because you can feel the grime itch and rot at your skin, your rings on the sink because the pain of the iron sears over your ribs and organs.

And then you’ll force yourself up to go get some coffee, and the barista will have something black and malevolent and glinting writhing inside of Her.

They almost never attack. It’s more terrifying, because you’ll feel an overwhelming sense of wrong, and you’ll yank everything down with a bite on your inner cheek, and there will be the demon.

Just watching you. Smiling at you, following you for a day, and then vanishing when you skip town.

Then there’s him. He’s the worst of them all. He’s more like fog, burning and glinting inside his vessel’s body. He’s yellow like sulfur or acid, and keeps appearing when you turn a corner. Passing you in the street and nodding at you in a bar, like he knows you.

He never approaches. He never attacks. He just watches, like you’re a specimen. Everything that’s wrong inside of you is worse inside of him. Potent. Eroding.

Terrifying.

And Bobby knows. Not about the yellow demon, or how the whole thing started, but that you don’t really sleep anymore because you’re afraid the night will take form and go for your throat. That you’re on more and more hunts because it’s distracting from how the Darkness always strangles the White when you’re static and useless. That all the pain has gotten far worse over these past few months. 

Although he does think that’s unexplainable. He doesn’t know it’s because you’re always alone when you’re gone, and the only reminder of Dean is his voice on your phone and his knife in your jacket. 

But Bobby still doesn’t give up on you. He made you create a plan for when the Darkness—inevitably, although neither of you would say it aloud—takes over and you aren’t able to drag yourself down in time. He still tells you to just come home and stay there every single day. And if Bobby was going to give up on you, he would have long ago. He wouldn’t return your hug with a long sigh and mutter your name like you were something important to him, instead of a leech. 

“Welcome back, kiddo.” He’d grunted, and when he pulled back and gave you another firm look, you knew he was checking for damage one last time. “Chimera go down easy?”

You’d flinched, the beast’s shrieks of pain still echoing around your head, and Bobby had frowned.

“You have another-“

“Yeah.” You’d whispered. “Big one.” 

Bobby had sighed, rubbing his jaw as he gave you an assessing look. “Anythin’ unfixable?”

You’d shaken your head. “I would’ve called you, but I wasn’t that far, and I’d finished the hunt anyway.” 

Bobby had opened his mouth, worry painted on his features, but you’d known what he was going to ask. It was the same fear that haunted you. 

“Nobody saw me.”

He’d nodded, letting out a long sigh. “Alright, but you’re gonna need to be more careful. Our luck ain’t gonna last forever, and when someone does get wind-“

“I’ll call you, then Rufus, throw all my phones off a bridge and abandon whatever car I was driving. Go one town over from wherever I am and lock down until either you or Rufus comes to get me.” You’d given Bobby a soft smile. “I know the drill. I helped you make it.”

Bobby had rolled his eyes. “Cool it, smartass. How long are you stayin’ this time?”

You’d given him an apologetic, tight-lipped smile. “Dinner?”

“That’s it?”

“I’ve got another hunt.” You’d mumbled, and Bobby had frowned.

“You need a rest,” Bobby had grunted your name, and you’d swallowed. “Ya’ look like shit.”

“Hey-“

“I ain’t gonna lie to you. When the hell was the last time you slept a whole night?”

You couldn’t remember. 

But you really wanted to go see Dean. You missed him. You missed laughing and talking to him, and you were worried about him. And you couldn’t tell Bobby that, because then you’d have to tell Bobby that you’ve actually been hunting with Dean for about two years when he’d specifically told you not to.

“A few days ago.” You’d shrugged, twisting a ring on your finger. “I’ll be okay, and I can come right back after this one.”

Bobby had sighed. “Where would you be headin’.”

“Pennsylvania.” 

“And you’re stickin’ around for dinner.”

You’d nodded, and Bobby hadn’t pushed further. You’d eat dinner with him, spoken about anything that didn’t make him look concerned and your whole body only pain, and climbed into the car with another silent promise to come back.

And you were holding your breath again. But this was a three-person hunt. A three-person hunt with Dean. 

You’d be fine.

He’s sent you to one of the usual, generic strip motels. Crowded lot, beige paint, cracked sidewalks, and stiff, square bushes lining the building. You’ve barely stepped out onto the pavement when a door slams, and there he is. Bags under his eyes weren’t there last time you saw him, a small bruise on his cheek that seems about a week old, but still grinning. Still impossibly handsome, still making the White buck and hum and ease into the Darkness, still not yours to ask for.

And really happy to see you. You’ve seen Dean’s fake smile.

This one is real.

He shouts your name, and you’re long past trying to fight your own smile at the sound of him saying it. At the sight of him jogging towards you, nothing but genuine joy on his face that you’re here.

And then he hugs you, and you’re not sure this isn’t a dream. Dean never hugs you anywhere but in your dreams. In real life he always grins at you and shoves his hands into his pockets, the most contact he offers being a nudge of your shoulder with his, or a drag of your body away from danger. But this is a hug. This is his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his body pressed right up to yours, and it’s so quick that you don’t have a chance to really return it before he’s gone.

Dean’s eyes are wide on yours as he steps back, and there’s more red near his ears than usual. His hands go in his pockets, you stand a little taller, and both of you stare at each other for a long, strange second before you find your voice.

“Hi.”

“Uh,” Dean clears his throat, glancing over his shoulder before looking back to you. “Hey. Good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” You wrap your arms around your body, and suddenly there’s a ghost of a strong, warm body pressed to yours. Dean had hugged you, and it was far worse than just his hand. It had branded on something deeper under your skin, sinking down into the White, bleeding into the Darkness until everything was silver, and you were a little dizzy.

And you’re just staring at each other. You want to hug Dean again. He’d been warm and tangible, and he’d touched you on purpose and it had sent lighting through your blood and up your spine, and you can’t tell if your skin is prickling from the silence or the need to just go touch him-

“Dean!” A loud, annoyed voice cuts through the air, and you look over Dean’s shoulder to see a tall, shaggy-haired man walking out of the motel. “You left the fucking door open, dude, you can’t just-“

The man stops, blinking at you, and you offer him a small smile. That’s Sam. He’s somehow taller, and his face isn’t babyish and innocent anymore, but you recognize him. 

And he seems to recognize you, because his words are slow, and his gaze never leaves yours.

“Dean?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t start, Sammy, I closed the door-“

“No, you didn’t. But that’s not what I-“ Sam glares at Dean, gesturing to you. “Is she your contact?” 

“No, she’s my hooker- fuck-“

You whack Dean’s arm, and Sam’s eyes widen.

“I am not a hooker-“

“Obviously, Princess, hookers are supposed to be nice-“

“I’m nice!”

Dean gives you a flat look. “You just freakin’ hit me!”

“Because you called me a hooker, Winchester.” You wrinkle your nose at him, crossing your arms. “And, just so we’re clear, if I was a hooker, you wouldn’t be able to afford me.”

Dean’s jaw twitches slightly, and you frown, because he’s not sparring back. He’s supposed to spar back. The strange, hanging tension from the hug is gone—he probably hadn’t even felt it deep in his body like you had, he’d probably just been awkward because you’d been too dazed from his contact to hug him back—so Dean’s supposed to make a joke about working out another form of payment, and wiggle his brows at you in a way he doesn’t know always makes you fall a little further into him. Makes your skin warm and the world technicolor. 

But he’s just looking at you, and there’s something taut flashing behind his eyes. You open your mouth to apologize—to ask what you'd said, because you know you’re bad at understanding the line, yet Dean always seems okay crossing it with you—but Sam clears his throat, and Dean turns away.

The White aches. You don’t have time to indulge it.

“So she is the contact.” Sam raises his brows, and Dean scowls at him.

“Obviously.” He mutters, and when he looks back to you the taut thing seems fainter. Buried down where you’re not sure you’re supposed to see it.

But you do. And it taints those fractured pieces through your body. Makes them wither and balk, because you struck something in Dean again, and you don’t ever really know how to stop.

Dean says your name, offering you a smaller smile than before. It’s still real. You’ll have to cling to the fact that it’s still real. “This my brother, Sammy-“

“Sam. It’s Sam.”

Dean shrugs. “Sure, whatever-“

“No, not whatever.” Sam frowns. “It’s bad enough you won’t stop calling me Sammy, I don’t need everyone we meet-“

“You two have actually met before-“

“Yeah, I remember. And Dad said that-“

Dean shoots Sam a sharp look, Sam snaps his mouth shut, and everything start to get too big as the Darkness vaults up to the surface. John had said something about you. He wasn’t here, but he’d told Sam and Dean something, and Sam didn’t look all that happy to see you. He wasn’t turning any weapons on you, but he and Dean were exchanging a silent conversation, and you were caving in as the world expanded. You could feel the bite of the wind on the trees, and the thirst of the yellowing grass around you, and fuck, you could taste bile in your throat because the Darkness was starting to rot in your stomach as you forced it down-

Sam says your name, and you almost don’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Is she good-“

“Yeah, shit- just-“ Dean places one hand on your shoulder, waving the other in your face. “Hey, Princess, come back down-“

He’s close. His hand is solid on your body. He smells like grass and spice. 

His thumb has moved to the bridge of your nose, stroking a slow line that moves the Darkness back into the cavity of your chest. Makes everything clear, even as the pain lingers. 

You let out a long breath, offering Dean a small smile. “Thank you.”

Something flashes in his eyes, and your breath is heavy in your lungs. Every time this happens, you worry he’ll snap. That he’ll demand more answers than you can offer, and his it’s probably just a girl thing will come to a crashing end as he puts together that it’s a you thing. And just you isn’t worthy of him wasting time on.

But this one doesn’t seem to be it. Dean’s lips press in a small pout, and he scans over your face, but he doesn’t push. 

“You good?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug him off, making your voice as casual as possible. “Just a long drive. It’s nice to meet you, Sam. Again.”

“Yeah, you too.” Sam offers you a tight-lipped smile. “Dean said you could help us out with this?”

You nod. “Well, he didn’t say what this is, but-“

Sam cuts you off with a groan, shooting Dean a frown. “Dude, you didn’t tell her the details of the case?”

“C’mon, it’s not my job to be a freakin’ database or whatever-“

“You still need to tell her what the case is, Dean, what if she can’t help-“

“I can help.” You snap, and Sam sighs.

“Look, I’m not doubting you, but this one is really complicated-“

“Good.” You raise your chin up, holding Sam’s gaze. “That’s my specialty.”

Dean clears his throat, looking between you and Sam with a weary expression. “It is, Sammy. She’ll get this. And you know we need the extra hands.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. But you’re the one who’s explaining the case, Dean. You were supposed to anyway.”

Dean rolls his eyes at you as Sam turns around, and suddenly it’s all clear and bright again. You don’t know how he does that, how he stitches everything inside you together when it starts to rip. You need to figure it out and bottle it up. Learn how to use it on command, because this might be a long case. Sam doesn’t seem to want you here, or like you all that much, and John told them something. They haven’t killed you, but John told them something. And Dean might be strangely willing to just dismiss your episodes, but you catch Sam’s odd look as you walk into their motel room. He seems a bit sharper than Dean, a little more on edge, a little more guarded and cautious.

So you need to be careful. You need to keep it the fuck together, by yourself.

And you’re a little worried that’s not possible.

Dean gestures for you to sit in a creaking, wooden chair—Sam watching you both from across a round table—and claps his hands together as he begins.

“Alright, we’ve got five dead ladies. Three in their twenties, one in her thirties, and one hag-“

You raise your brows at him. “Hag?”

“Yeah, she was like a million. Wrinkly. Right, Sammy?”

Sam shrugs. “I would’ve just said old, man.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Fine, old. Point is, different ages. Different races too, and jobs, and social circles. We’ve been investigating for about a week, even broke into the vic's houses and went through their rooms. No connection between the vics outside of all being chicks, no deep dark secret, fucking nothing.”

You frown at him. “Like the mall.”

“Kind of, yeah, but these ladies are all going down the same way.” Dean points to his head. “Bashed in brains.”

“Gross.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair as you think. “Where are they dying?”

“Same office building.” Sam slides some papers across the table. “Different floors, though. Four of the vics were employees, but one was just visiting her boyfriend.”

You nod slowly, scanning over the files. “And why isn’t it a ghost?”

“Because we figured out who the ghost should be.” Dean leans over you, tapping another one of the files. You can feel the heat from his body, and it makes your gut warm. You need to get it the fuck together. “Maggie Robins. Got her brains bashed in by her husband, Joey, in his office after she found out he’d been cheating on her with her best friend. Son of a bitch offed himself and the mistress right after.”

“Yikes.”

“Oh yeah. But here’s the fucked part-“

“Maggie’s body was cremated.” Sam jumps in, and Dean glares at him. “And all primary possessions were auctioned off by the police. We triple checked the whole office building, and were only a few things left in Joey’s office, for evidence, but nothing that important.”

You raise your brows. “What are we constituting as important?” “Personal valuables.” Sam says, frowning at you. “All that was left were some pens, generic wall art, and makeup-“ “Perfume.” Dean corrects, and Sam nods.

“Yeah, perfume-“ He pauses, turning to Dean with a dry, amused look. “Why’d you remember perfume?”

“I’m observant.” Dean snaps, looking down to you with a shrug. “It was perfume, Princess.”

“Yeah, I’ll make a note.” You smile at him, Dean smiles back, and when you glance back to Sam his expression is strained. Unreadable.

You’ll have to worry about that later.

“So,” you sift through the papers, tearing slightly at the corners. “Not a ghost. Have there been other signs?”

“Flickering lights,” Dean drops into the last chair, watching you with a gaze that seems to sear into your bones. “Few people said they’ve heard moans and screams when no one was there, and a janitor told us he’s been wiping up ghost blood, but-“

“Oh, okay. It’s an onryo.” 

You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms, and Sam and Dean exchange surprised look.

“It’s a…” Sam blinks at you. “It’s a what?”

“Onryo.” You shrug, tucking your knees into your chest. “Japanese vengeance ghost, born from a really violent death that was emotionally charged, often because of a betrayal.”

“Shit.” Dean mutters. “Betrayal like your husband fucking your best friend.”

“Exactly.” You grin at him, and you could swear he puffs his chest out as he grins back.

“I told you she’d get it, Sammy-“

“Yeah, you’re a genius.” Sam’s voice is dry as he pulls the papers back across the table, his attention on you still weary. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. Did the janitor tell you he kept finding blood in random places, and it would vanish when he tried to clean it?”

Dean nods, you give Sam a pointed look, and Sam sighs.

“Fine. If it’s an onryo, how are we supposed to kill it?”

You hum, tilting your head at the air. “There should be a special kind of exorcism, but I’ve never actually done one before.”

Sam frowns. “Then how do you know-“

“My dad dealt with an onryo once.” You shrug. “And I’ve read a lot about them.”

Something flashes in Sam’s eyes, he tenses in his seat, and it makes your hold on the Darkness go slack.

He doesn’t trust you. 

Maybe he can see everything that’s wrong with you. Dean may have grown blind to it, but Sam hasn’t, and he might be able to see the rotting sickness that covers your whole body. He might not want you anywhere near him, or his brother. He doesn’t seem like John—from what Dean’s told you about him, Sam doesn’t even seem to like his father all that much—but you can’t shake the wired strain that Sam Winchester just doesn’t trust you.

“Your dad.” Sam’s voice is cautious, his eyes narrowed. “The hunter.”

You’re not sure why he says hunter like that. Like it’s a bomb that’s set to go off. 

“Yeah. The hunter.” You glance at Dean, who’s rigid in his seat, glowering at Sam. “Are you guys good?”

“We’re fine.” Dean snaps, and Sam gives him an odd, tight look.

“Dean-“

“We’re good, Sammy.” Dean turns back to you, and you’re really not sure what’s happening. No guns are pressed to your brow, but there’s a heated, brittle wire hanging over all your heads, and the Darkness is starting to slip through your fingers. Not breaching out—not as you dig your nails into your skin, and bite through your cheek—but brimming right on the surface. On an edge. 

Waiting for a snap.

It doesn’t come. Dean gives you a winning grin and Sam keeps frowning between you both, but nothing snaps. Not when Sam double-checks how sure you are it’s an onryo, and you say you’d bet a lot on it, because you would. Not when Dean suggests you all go figure out exactly what the onryo ritual is, and you and Sam look at him like he’s sprouted a second head. Not when Dean insists you all drive together, and you both try to protest—almost certainly for different reasons—but ultimately lose to Dean’s dramatic saving the trees and team spirit speech.

“Still no gun, Princess?” Dean hangs over your shoulder as you sort through your bag, and you shoot him a glare.

“Is the knife no longer good enough for you?”

“No.” He shrugs. “Not when you’ve been hunting alone.”

“Because you’ve been busy.” You raise your brows at him, and he sighs.

“Yeah, I know, it’s… Complex.”

Your lips twitch slightly. “Good job.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, but the air feels a little lighter, and the White is blending into the Darkness because it’s only you and Dean.

But it’s not only you and Dean. And Sam doesn’t seem to want you here. And it’s complex.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” you mutter, tucking your knife into your jacket. “And I did my job, I’m sure you can do the rest without me.”

“Do you want us to do the rest without you?”

You turn to fully face him, and he looks guarded. Standing a little too tall, his hands seeming to be fisted in his jacket, watching you wearily. Like you might lash out, or explode.

Something’s really off with him. He hasn’t looked at you like that in years. 

He hasn’t looked at you like that since you last saw him with John.

“I don’t have anything else to do.” You mumble, watching him carefully. “And I’m already here.”

“Awesome.” Dean’s shoulders relax slightly, and he nods his head away from your car, deeper into the parking lot. “C’mon.”

You sigh. “I really can drive myself-“

“Nope. We’re sticking together.” His hand finds your back, and all you can do is let him guide you forwards. “You’ve gotta meet my car, Princess.”

“I have met your car-“

“Doesn’t count. You’re actually gonna ride in her this time.”

Dean’s grin is shit-eating. You’re not sure if you want to punch or kiss him.

“Shut up.”

“Nah.” Dean stops in the center of the lot, saying your name with a smirk. “Meet Baby.”

The Impala looks the exact same as before, save for a sour-faced, taller Sam Winchester sitting in shotgun, glaring between you and Dean. He scowls the whole time Dean walks you to the back bench, and refuses to look at you when Dean closes the door.

You clear your throat, watching Dean move around the hood of the car. “Hi, Sam.”

He grunts, and you sigh, slipping off your shoes.

“It’s good to see you.” You try again, because silence with Dean is like soft music, but silence like this is suffocating. “You look, uh-“

“Taller.” Sam grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I know-“

“I was going to say good.” You mumble, hugging your knees to your chest. “Not like a kid anymore.”

Sam’s eyes shoot to yours in the rearview mirror, you offer him a small smile, and his mouth opens right as Dean drops into the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” Dean turns in his seat, snapping your name. “No shoes on my car.”

You roll your eyes, gesturing to your feet. “I’m not wearing shoes.” 

“Oh.” He blinks between you and your socks. “Good.”

“I’m not an idiot, Winchester. And I’d rather not be murdered because I messed with the only lady in your life-“

“Shut up.” Dean rolls his eyes, turning back to start the engine, and right before he adjusts the mirror you catch Sam glancing you at again, a small frown on his face.

“You guys were gone for a while.” Sam says, mostly looking at Dean. “How long can it take to grab a gun?”

Dean scoffs. “Wouldn’t know, Sammy. Her majesty doesn’t hunt with guns.”

“Doesn’t hunt with-“ Sam blinks at you, his face painted in disbelief. “You don’t use a gun?”

You sigh. “No.”

“What do you use?”

You open your jacket to show him your knife, and Sam raises his brows.

“That’s it? I mean, how do you kill anything-“

“With talent.” Dean mutters, and you don’t appreciate how accurate his impression of you sounds. “I’d never use one anyway-“

“I wouldn’t use it. And someone,” You punch the back of Dean’s seat, and he huffs. “Has a lot of unwelcome options about that-“

“Because it’s stupid.” He grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, for someone who’s so annoyed about me not having a gun, you sure did buy me a knife.” 

You can hear the scowl in Dean’s voice. “You wouldn’t have taken a gun. You barely took the knife.“ 

“I could still throw it out-“ 

“Nope. You pinky promised.” 

You smirk as Dean sits up slightly—hearing his own words—and Sam gives him an incredulous look. 

“You pinky promised?

“It’s- She was being annoying-“

“He had to admit he was worried about me.” You tell Sam, leaning forward in your seat with a grin. “And that he thinks Charlie’s Angelsis the best movie ever made.” 

“I- I do not fucking think that-“ 

You giggle, rolling your eyes at Sam, who’s looking at you like you just fell from space. “He’s still in denial.” 

“I am not-“ 

“It’s okay, Deano.” You pat his shoulder, and he shoots you a glare that doesn’t really reach his eyes. “We all still think you’re very tough.” 

The words leave your mouth, Dean rolls his eyes and grumbles about not even knowing why he called you, and some sort of dam seems to break in Sam. All of his cautious, pricking hostility vanishes into thin air, and he twists to fully look at you with an open expression.

In that moment, he does look more like the kid you met in the motel. Curious and not quite in awe of you, but something close. Something similar. 

“Dean said you were at home before this?”

You run your thumb over your palm, tilting your head at Sam as you try to work out how much you can say. “Yeah, I was just stopping there after I finished up a chimera hunt.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “A- Those are real?”

“Tragically, yeah.”

Dean raises his brows at you in the mirror. “Tragically?”

“They’re mean.” You shrug. “And shit a lot.”

Sam makes a face, but doesn’t turn away. “Had you hunted one before that?”

“No, I think they’re pretty rare outside of like, Greece-“

“But you killed this one, right?”

You nod, and Sam looks like he’s going to fall out of his seat. You’re not really sure what’s happening.

“How?”

“Um…” You twist a ring on your finger as your voice trails off, because you’d killed the chimera with the Darkness. Let it rush out of your body and infect everything around you, until the chimera exploded in a disgusting rain of blood. But you can’t really say that, so you go with how you’d planned to kill the chimera. “I impaled it.”

“Like in the myth?”

“Exactly like in the myth.” You grin at Sam, and you’ve never seen someone so big look seven years old. “Bellerophon.”

“Bless you.” Dean mutters, and Sam gives his brother a look of exasperated disappointment. 

“No, dude, Bellerophon is the slayer of the Chimera in Greek mythology. He impales it in the mouth, using the Pegasus.”

“I don’t need to know why impaling worked-“

“Because of the angle.” You offer, ignoring Dean’s glare in the mirror. “It melts the spear with its fire-breath, and then it suffocates.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, but I still don’t-“

“What did you do with the body?” Sam interrupts, leaning forward to keep talking to you, and Dean seems to be pouting at the road.

Dean ends up pouting for most of the day, because after you lie about how you’d disposed of the chimera—once again employing the very useful tactic of what you’d meant to do—Sam starts to ask about other things you’ve hunted, and how you’d killed them, and what you’ve learned about monsters overall. It lasts from the car and into the library, through almost the entirety of your research, and Dean barely gets a word in, only sulking over a book as Sam shares their own hunts. You decide not to comment on it when Sam says curses can’t be broken, because you’re positive that’s not true but you can’t say why, and answer all of Sam’s questions about alternative ways to deal with various spirits and monsters.

You’re shocked he remembered you telling John that.

You’re baffed as to why he’s suddenly treating you like a friend to catch up with, instead of whatever he’d thought you were before. You’re not really sure want to know what he thought of you before. Not when it’s suddenly changed to something far better.

“You’re afraid of flying?” You raise your brows at Dean, and he scowls. 

“I don’t trust it.” He mutters, turning a page so aggressively you’re worried he’ll tear it. “It’s high, and loud, and pointless. People belong on the ground.”

You hum. “What about boats?”

Dean shoots you a glare, you just grin at him, and his lips twitch slightly. You won.

“We dealt with a guy on a boat too.” Sam looks up from his own book, a slight frown on his face. “But that was kind of a bummer. Did you know spirits could possess water?”

You did know that. A powerful enough, angry enough spirit can possess most anything. But you only nod, because you’re mostly looking at Dean. Sunken into his chair, still pouting, glaring at his book like it’s just insulted his car. You’ve never seen him act like this—silent, barely offering a comment or glance up at you and Sam, mostly pretending to read and fidgeting with his pen—and it makes the White spin and whine.

“Hey, De.”

You nudge his calf under the table, and he looks up at you with a frown.

“I’m hungry.”

“We passed a cafe on the way in,” Sam offers, and Dean raises his brows at you.

“You heard him.” He looks back to his book. “Go eat.”

You frown at him, even as the White bucks around inside of you. He’s not moving, or asking for food, or making fun of you for asking permission to go eat. Something’s off. Something’s been off, and you don’t know how to fix it—you don’t know how to fix anything—but you can’t stand how Dean’s silence is eating at your throat and lungs. You’re really going need to learn how to control his effect on you.

But not right now. 

“Do you want anything?”

Dean glances up at you again, something odd flashing in his eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah, you, dumbass-“

“Get me a burger.”

You give him a flat look. “It’s a cafe.”

“Whatever. Just figure something out.”

He still doesn’t move, or stop frowning. The moment you cheer him up, you’re going to kill him.

“Winchester.”

He grunts your name, and you glare at him as you continue.

“Where’s the cafe.”

“I dunno, ask Sammy.”

“Down the street.” Sam’s eyes bounce between you and Dean, a small frown on his face. “Just go straight, then to the left.”

You nod, giving Sam a thankful smile. “You want anything?”

Sam shakes his head, and you look back to Dean.

“Dean.”

That gets his full attention, and it seems to burn right into your body.

“I’m going by myself.” You rise to your feet, giving him a challenging look. “And I’m not good at directions. I might end up at the grocery store, and come back with carrots.” 

Dean narrows his eyes at you, but Sam just shrugs. 

“Actually, carrots sound-“

“C’mon, Princess.” Dean cuts off a surprised Sam with short words, pushing his chair back. “You’re paying.” 

Sam calls after you that he’ll call you if he finds anything, but you don’t really hear him. Not as Dean lowers his voice and leans down to your ear. His breath is warm. You might fall over.

“You’re really determined to get me to eat, sweetheart. Should I be worried?”

You hum. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean Winchester.”

He clicks his tongue, and he’s grinning again. You won again. “Full name. What did I do?”

“Sulk like a baby for an hour?” You raise your brows at him, and he’s a lot closer than you thought. You can count all his freckles. They’re kind of like stars. 

You can feel his breath on your face when he laughs. It’s warm, and smells like coffee and mint.

His body is like a furnace, and it’s melting everything to silver inside of you.

You’re losing your mind. 

“I can still kick you out of this hunt, you know.” He drawls, and you shrug, trying not to think about how Dean’s hand on your back shifts with the movement.

“Good luck with that.”

“It’s my hunt-“

“It’s your and Sam’s hunt.” You correct. “I think I’d have his vote to stay.”

“You would.” Dean lets out a dry chuckle, and you don’t even realize you’d made it to the cafe until Dean’s suddenly stops walking, and you’re waiting in a short line. “Fucking nerds.”

“That’s rude.” You shove his arm, and everything feels color when he laughs, and it’s real. There’s still something tight and coiled in his eyes as you make it to the counter and order, but he’s not slumping anymore, so you’re going to push it.

You’re going to ask what the hell is happening. Why he hasn’t been hunting with you, why Sam’s back, where John is, and why he’s been so strange. You turn your drink between your hands as Dean grabs the food—frowning at his empty seat and rehearsing your question in your head—and the moment he sits down you-

“Dad’s missing.” 

You blink at him. “What?”

“Our dad.” Dean mutters, sliding your food across the table. “He’s missing. And not just one of those longer hunts, we’ve been looking for months and he’s… Just gone.”

“Shit.” You mutter, pieces sliding together in your brain as Dean’s words sink in. “Where have you checked?”

“His last case. And we got activity on his phone, but…” He trails off with a shake of his head, not fully meeting your eyes. “We can’t fucking find him, and Sammy’s- He’s not doing well.”

You nod, and wait for Dean to continue. If you say something, you might say the wrong thing, because you don’t give a fuck if John Winchester is missing or dead or just on a bender. You’re breathing a little easier just from the knowledge that you can be here, and it won’t end in a bullet through your brain.

But Dean gives a fuck about John. And you—despite your best judgement and all rational reason—give a fuck about Dean. You give a fuck that he’s been so off because his dad’s missing, that there seems to be something a little heavier in his eyes and on his shoulders than the last time you saw him, that you can almost taste his bitter, taut worry for Sam. 

You give a fuck that he’s telling you at all. That whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s bright enough that he’d trust you with anything at all.

So you’ll bite your tongue, and let him keep going when he’s ready.

Dean draws in another long breath. “You can’t tell Sam I told you this.” He mutters. “I- We’ve barely talked about it, and he doesn’t know you, and it’s really fucking complicated-“

“Dean.” 

His eyes meet yours, and the guarded expression is back. It’s not your job to break through it. It’s not your job to do anything for Dean, but you want to. His tension seems to be moving into your body and making your muscles and organs sore, the Darkness is twisting and coiling in your body to find something to break. Churning until you let it flood out, pushing at the White in a way that makes you feel a little sick. 

You might as well find something to break for Dean, while he’s still here. While he hasn’t left, and everything feels big in a way that’s not suffocating and crushing.

“I won’t tell Sam.” You say, holding his gaze as you lean forward, raising your pinky. “Promise.”

Dean swallows, but takes your pinky and shakes it. “His girlfriend died. The same way our mom did, too, right after we lost the trail on Dad.”

“Your mom-“

“Burned on the ceiling.” Dean mutters. “We don’t know what did it, but Dad’s been hunting the son of a bitch since it happened, and then he vanishes, and it happens again? Right fucking after? That’s-“

“Not a coincidence.” You finish—letting out a long, slow breath—and Dean nods.

“Never a coincidence.”

You hum, frowning into the air as your head starts to kick into a high gear. This is just another case. Just another problem to solve that might call to you, a piece of the Darkness you could use. You can help with this. You can fix something. Dean’s isn’t guarded anymore—only sitting a little taller than usual, watching you carefully—and he’s still here. Dean’s still here, and he trusts you, and those fractured pieces in you are starting to stretch towards each other again. Bleeding through the Darkness in vibrant color as Dean holds your gaze, and you can help. 

If Dean wants your help. If he’d want you. 

The thought makes the White flash and sing. You need to keep it together.

“Is Sam okay?” You ask, your voice soft, and Dean sighs, rubbing his face.

“He’s not sleeping well. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but we share a damn room every night.”

You nod slowly. “Are you okay?”

Dean blinks at you, a small frown on his face. “Me?”

“Yeah, who else could I be asking-“

“I-“ Dean shakes his head, tapping his knuckles on the table. “I’m fine, Princess. Dad’s gonna turn up, and he’ll have a good reason for going off. Maybe he found what killed Mom, and he’s just waiting to grab us for help. Then we’ll get back to normal.”

You narrow your eyes. You don’t believe him. He’s still off, and the weight on him suddenly seems bigger now that you know where it’s coming from. But you’ve barely opened your mouth to push him when the little cafe doorbell rings, and Sam calls your name.

“I got it!” He stops at the side of your table, looking between you and Dean with a wide grin. “It’s called a harae, ritual purification. We just need to build a shrine and learn the words.”

You take the book Sam passes into your hands, scanning over the pages as Dean gives Sam a pat on the back.

“Nice one, Sammy. Once we gank this bitch, we’ll get you nice treat as a reward for good work-“

“Fuck off, jerk.“ Sam shoves Dean’s arm away in your periphery, and Dean just laughs.

“Hey, Dean?” You look up with a frown, turning the book for him to read. 

He doesn’t. He just says your name and stares at you, and it’s not really helpful. “What’s up?”

“You guys did interviews, right?”

He nods. “I did a lot while Sam was looking at the office. Looked at all the vics and our suspects.” He frowns. “I lost rock, paper, scissors.”

Sam laugh. “Again.”

“Shut up, bitch-“

“You’re the one who lost, Dean, it’s not my fault you suck-“

“I do not suck, you just play fucking mind games-“

“Winchester. Pay attention.” You give him a stern glare and kick under the table, and he scowls at you.

“Sammy started it-“

“I don’t care.” You tap the book, pushing it closer to him. “If you did the interviews, I need you to write down a list of things people said about our onryo, and get some stuff for the shrine. It will work better if it’s in closer relation to who Maggie Robins was in life.”

“Why do I have to do it-“

“Apparently because you suck at rock, paper, scissors.” You shrug, looking up to Sam. “We can go back to the motel, learn the ritual, and hopefully kill this thing by tonight.”

It takes another five minutes to get Dean to agree, and he’s still scowling when he drops you and Sam back at the motel, but it’s not heavy anymore. He’s not silent either, grumbling the whole way about being saddled with freakin’ shopping duty, and shouting that he better not come back to find that you and Sam threw a party while he was gone. 

Then it’s just you and Sam. Alone. Speaking chopped and stilted Japanese, giving each other odd looks as you adjust to the shift.

It’s not hard to be alone with Sam. He’s nice, easy to talk to, and doesn’t seem to have nearly as much fun pushing your button as Dean does. But it’s still strange. He keeps giving you odd looks and opening his mouth with a small frown, but shaking his head and shutting it. Your brain keeps spinning around what Dean told you, and how the Darkness seems... Off with Sam. His presence doesn’t blend it into Silver like Dean’s does, and it’s not volatile like with a monster or spirit, but it’s not normal. It’s turning and humming and beating into the White, like Sam is setting it off.

And you don’t even know what it is.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom when it starts to get overwhelming. When the Darkness starts to leak and your breathing has to be shallow to control it. Sam asks if you’re alright, and you just wave him off and lock the door behind you. Sinking onto the cold floor with your fingers squeezing at your throat, trying to drag it back down by force. It’s not enough. Whatever is happening is only feeding the Darkness, and it’s not dangerous but it could be. One wrong word, one accidental push, and you’d lose control in a second. You can feel lingering warmth of the sheets on Sam and Dean’s beds, and the ache of the creaking bathroom door, and the grime of tiles, sick and itching and all over your skin-

You bite down on the back of your hand, and everything falls back into you. You’re alright. You got through it. You always get through it. You’ll get through this hunt—rising to your feet and rubbing your face, checking in the mirror that no pain is visible—and you’ll help Dean, and everything will be alright. Maybe if you figure out what killed their mom, John won’t try to kill you when they find him. Maybe they won’t find him. Maybe you’ll be safe, and Dean could stick around for you, just for you because you’d helped him, helped his brother, and done it without breaking anything or losing control. Maybe you’d be able to tell him what’s wrong with you, and you’d have been good enough—done a good enough thing—that he wouldn’t call you a monster.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You give Sam a small smile, twisting a ring on your finger as you walk back to the table. “Just had some sketchy road food yesterday. Happens to the best of us.”

Sam nods, and you think he bought it. Most people usually buy it. Even Bobby isn’t great at picking up your lies, because you’re careful and deliberate and practiced, and every lie you tell is purposeful and vital. A barrier to the horrid truth of how you’re always a little cancerous. 

You’re pretty sure the only person who sees past it is Dean. And that’s just another thing you’ve given up on hating him for.

“Do you know when Dean will be back?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. You made the critical error of thinking of him, and suddenly the White is desperate for him to be close once more, and you’re too tired to fight it. 

“I dunno, probably soon.” Sam shakes his head, giving you another odd look. “Do you guys hunt together a lot?”

You hum, pulling another book from Sam’s stack. “Usually, yeah.”

“Usually?”

“We haven’t been on a hunt since October.” You shrug, and when glance up, Sam’s still staring at you.

“Has he been… Talking to you?”

“Yeah, uh, we call about once a week.”

“Dean calls you?”

You nod, frowning slightly. “That’s what I said, yeah.”

“Huh.” Sam’s looking at you like he did in the car. Like you’re an alien, or weird plant. It’s not hateful, and it doesn’t make the Darkness riot in defense, but it’s… unnerving. “How long have you guys been talking, again?”

“Uh,” you tilt your head, your brow furrowing slightly. “A little over two years?”

Sam makes a slight face. “Cool.”

It doesn’t sound cool. It sounds like Sam’s as confused as you are, which is unfair because you don’t even know what you’re confused about. All Sam should know is that Dean left you once, years passed, and now you’re friends. 

But maybe Sam knows why Dean left you. And he could tell you, and it could either mend all those shattered pieces lining your body in a single moment, or snap you entirely. At least if it snaps you this will be over. You won’t have to deal with the circling question of does Dean feel this too. Is he looking at you like that because he feels this. Is he still here—despite you being irrevocably you all the fucking time, despite John obviously hatred of you and what you are—because he feels this too.

“Hey, Sam-“

“Something’s not making-“ Sam’s eyes widen slightly as you speak over each other, and he raises his hands in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, you first-“

“No,” you shake your head, keeping your desperate question lodged like a stone in your throat. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not a big thing, just that it’s kind of strange that the onryo is going after only women.” Sam frowns at his book. “Everything I’ve found says they should either kill just about anyone in their path, or just target reminders of the person who wronged them. And with the whole cheating thing I’d imagine it would be men and women, not-“

“Just women.” You reach a hand out, and Sam passes you his book. “You’re right. If you’re sure it’s Maggie-“

“We’re sure.” Sam says, leaning back in his chair. “She had her brains bashed in exactly like all the vics. And the husband, actually.”

You pause. “And the husband?”

Sam nods, grimacing slightly. “The crime scene photos were really gross.”

“And…” You glance at the case files, still scattered on the table. “How did the mistress die?”

“Gunshot. The cops worked out that Maggie got her brains bashed by Joey, Joey shot his mistress-“

“What was the mistress’s name?”

“Uh, Becca. But-“

“And she was Maggie’s best friend?”

Sam nods, his brows drawing together as he starts to play catch up. “I think so, yeah. Dean said all the families were shocked that, uh, Becca would betray Maggie like that.”

You let out a long sigh, running a hand through your hair and giving Sam a disbelieving look. “Jesus fucking Christ, men are idiots.”

“Hey-“

“I’m back!” Dean bursts through the door, several plastic bags in hand. “Got all the shit, Princess. Looks like this Maggie chick even used the same-“

You hold up a hand, and Dean falls silent. “Sam, tell Dean what you just told me.”

“Uh,” Sam glances at Dean, who’s dropped down on the edge of his bed with a frown. “Becca-“

“Who the hell is Becca-“

“The mistress, dumb dumb.” You give Dean a glare, jerking your head at Sam. “Listen.”

Dean raises his hands in surrender, and Sam keeps going.

“Becca and Maggie were best friends, and you told me all the families were shocked about what happened.”

Dean nods. “Yeah, they all kept going on about how close those chicks were. Maggie’s mom said that Becca would stay with her when the husband was out of town on business.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god.”

“You got something you wanna say, sweetheart?“

“Not that you’ll want to hear, Deano.” You wrinkle your nose at him, even as a little bit of guilt eats at your throat. He’s gonna be pissed. “We need to start the ritual over.”

Dean blinks at you. “What.”

“Maggie isn’t the onryo.” You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “Joey is.”

Sam’s mouth falls open. “Fuck. That- It explains the targeting.”

“Yep.” You give him a tight smile. “And people don’t just bash their own brains in. Joey probably did kill Maggie, but then Becca killed Joey before shooting herself.”

Dean shakes his head, an adorable look of confusion on his face. “Why the hell would the douchebag get offed by his own mistress-“

“Because she wasn’t his mistress.” You say, and Dean just stares at you, his lips in a small pout that you want to bite.

“Huh?”

You exchange a look with Sam—who’s very poorly covering his snicker with a hand—and look back to Dean with a sigh. “Lesbians, Winchester. The mistress was the wife’s, not the husband’s.” 

“The- oh.” Dean goes red, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but you. “Awesome. Good for them.”

You shrug. “I mean, they are both dead. But yeah, awesome.”

“For them.” Sam adds, letting out a long breath. “Not us. You’re right, we’re going to have scratch everything and work out how to do the ritual for Joey.”

“Fine.” Dean groans, kicking one of his bags. “But there’s no way in hell you’re making me do all those interviews again, Princess.“

You sigh, scratching at your fingers. “Sam, if you do the interviews, I can work out the MO to see if we can lure the onyro out, and Dean can make the ritual stick.”

Sam nods, looking back to a book, and Dean gapes at you.

“Ritual what?”

“Stick.”

“It’s a shaker made of paper.” Sam explains. “For the harae. It’ll be easy, dude.”

“And.” You give Dean a pointed look. “It’s either that or the interviews.”

Dean scowls, but relents with a grumble, and you grin at him.

“Great. We’ll have to wait for morning to do this, so, uh…” You trail off, frowning at your car out the window. You had really thought you’d be done by midnight. You can’t afford a motel room right now, and you don’t think Sam and Dean won’t notice you sleeping in your car. Bobby’s car. One of Bobby’s junkyard cars, which was in no way suitable for sleeping in. 

Dean says your name, and you turn your head on instinct alone. “You got a room?”

“Uh, no.” You glance back to your car. You can just drive it away, to a different lot, and make do. You know how to make do. “But I’ll find one, it’s fine-“

Sam shrugs, barely looking up from his book. “Just stay here.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you freeze in your chair. “What?”

“You can bunk with us, we’ve got the space.”

You can’t look at Dean. You and Dean don’t share a room. You don’t know why he doesn't offer, but you know why you haven’t, and at this point it’s an unspoken rule.

But Dean’s not shutting Sam down, and the White has started to burst and glow at the idea of it. Of being closer.

You cannot share a room with Dean. It will destroy this. It will give you the opportunity to ruin your friendship with him, give you another place to fall further into him, provide another opportunity for the White to pull you closer and closer, down, down, down into Dean. 

“No, no it’s okay, I’m sure somewhere has a room-“

Dean cuts you off, and you’re going to go insane. “You can take my bed.” 

“It’s- it’s really fine-“

“No,” He says your name casually—like your brain and heart aren’t exploding—and pushes up off his mattress. “You’re doing us a solid, we can put you up. And I’ve shared with Sam before. I can deal with his Sasquatch starfishing.”

Sam glares up from his book. “I do not starfish-“

“But you are a Sasquatch?” 

Dean smirks at Sam, Sam flips him off, and the conversation seems to be over. Sam’s still reading. Dean’s kicking the bag and grumbling about stupid rituals.

But you’re frozen.Time isn’t really flowing, and the world isn’t really moving, because you have to talk your way out of this. You have to figure out what you can say so you can leave, without Sam and Dean being gentlemen and insisting you stay, or asking questions about why you’re so frantic to be anywhere but here.

And you’re not. Every single fiber of your existence wants to stay in this room, where it’s warm and demons might not find you. Your body wants to rest in Dean’s bed, because it will probably smell like grass and spice and Dean. Your fucking tongue keeps trying to move against your will, to suggest you and Dean just share a bed. 

And you’re strong enough to hold yourself back from that, but not from the rest of it. Not from the high that rushes through you when you give in, mumble that you’ll go get your bags from the car, and Dean insists on walking with you. You can’t stop your laugh from echoing through the parking lot at his stupid jokes, or the Darkness from moving out of you in a way that’s not painful. In a way where you can feel how calm the grass is in the quickly sinking twilight, or how soothing the gentle wind is to the tree branches.

Dean guides you back inside, and you stumble. Just a normal, boring trip over your own feet that Dean saves you from, catching you with firm hands and a laugh. 

He’s real, and he’s not gone. The streetlight over his head is casting a gold glow over his skin and hair, and everything about him seems fake—still far too pretty, made of gold but warm under your touch—but he’s real.

And he smiles at you. And that light flickers.

And you’re so fucked.

——————

Dean needed to get a grip. He needed to stop being a freaking creep, and act like a normal person.

He couldn’t. And he wasn’t going to figure out how to in one night. But he needed to, because there was no goddamn way She hadn’t cast some sort of spell on him, and not a chance in hell he was going to make it through the night without acting like She wasn’t only a few quick steps away.

She couldn’t be doing this on purpose. She’d have to be a demon or something, sent to torture Dean with Her… everything. To make him sit at the table while She showered just a room over—if Sam had given him one more amused look, Dean would’ve punched his lights out—and then come out of the bathroom with steam and light surrounding Her, like a beautiful, tempting nightmare. She’d grabbed a little, colorful bag—given Dean a smile because she must hate him—and vanished back into the bathroom.

She’d come out a little while later with soft, almost glowing skin and shiny hair Dean had wanted to touch. She’d passed him on her way to bed, and smelled like sugar and fruit.

The whole room had been surrounded with that fucking fruit smell. Dean had been losing his goddamn mind. 

He’d ended up flat one his back, staring at the ceiling through most of the night, something tight and hot lodged in his throat and gut. Sammy was fine to share a bed with, but Dean wanted to be across the room.

With Her. Holding Her like they were real people, smelling her hair like a goddamn creep and talking to her in the dark. 

Dean really just wanted to be with Her in the dark. To wrap around Her and keep her against him, where She wouldn’t have one of those weird freak outs he’d slowly learned to handle, where no strange, haunting monsters would find Her and take her away.

He didn’t want Her to go away. It was getting fucking crippling, how Dean wanted Her around all the time. How he was so fucking selfish and empty that, since Jessica, he’d started to spiral into thoughts of Her finding out what a mess his life was, and leaving him alone. Of taking all Her blinding, silver light that Dean was more than happy to follow down into the dark, and turn it somewhere else. That he’d been given a chance to see the universe in brilliant eyes, and now it would be ripped away from him.

Worse, he had nightmares that She was on the ceiling. And he’d tried to dismiss them as stress—Dad was missing, Sam was on edge, and Dean was fucking exhausted, so stress seemed reasonable—but they’d persisted. Which was crazy. Jess had been Sam’s girl. He’d had her, and lost her. Mom had been Dad’s, and that was why Dad had become Dad after her death. 

Dean had never had Her. He’d held Her hand once, and kissed Her forehead twice. She wasn’t Dean’s to fear for, or protect, or imagine pressed against him in the dark. She wasn’t Dean’s to keep near him, wasn’t Dean’s to fantasize about, wasn’t Dean’s to want. To get anxious about introducing to his family, because they were all born and made in the mud and She seemed to be created from starlight. He’d never even meet Her family, because she still wouldn’t tell Dean the damn truth about them.

He still didn’t know how to be furious about that in a way that stuck. How to not care when Her eyes went glassy, when She looked small and lost. How to not feel alive when She smiled, and orbit around Her when her world was more colorful than his.

And Sam liking Her had made that worse. Made it more real. Sam liking Her meant Dean wasn’t going insane. It meant that Dad might have simply been wrong, and She wasn’t just an illusion, and that if She left it would just be because Dean wasn’t worth her time.

But She hadn’t left. He’d told Her about Dad and Jessica and Mom, and then watched her shuffle around their motel room in the morning with an adorable, sleepy face. He’d watched Her in Baby’s passenger seat—Sam taking her car for the interviews—and had to force his hand to stay on the wheel and not Her thigh. 

He was looking at Her, across the diner table and poking at Her breakfast with a fork. He wasn’t sure how She managed to look so beautiful all the goddamn time, even when her lips were still swollen from sleep and her eyes were a little glazed from exhaustion. How Her voice always sounded like a song that echoed through Dean’s body, spurring something a little to the right of his heart and making him do almost anything she asked.

Like making a that stupid stick while She wrote on a paper napkin, that adorable furrow in Her brow.

“Sam should be back soon.” She mumbled, crossing something out on Her list. “Are you almost-“

Dean placed the stick over Her napkin, grinning at Her when she looked up. “Done.”

She gave the stick a once over, sighed, and went back to Her napkin without a word.

Dean frowned, leaning over to try and read Her scrawling. “Can you read that?”

“I’m writing it.”

“That’s not an answer, sweetheart.”

She glanced up, Dean winked, and She rolled her eyes.

“Shut up.”

Dean just hummed, leaning at little further forward. “So that’s a no?”

“I’ll stab you.”

“Damn, Princess, I thought you liked me-“

He cut himself off with a grunt as She kicked his shin, and She was flushing. It was the best color Dean had ever seen.

“I can like you and stab you.” She muttered. “I’d stitch it up after.”

Dean wanted to ask how much She liked him. If She like liked him. If She breathed easier when he was there and felt peaceful when he was by her side. If his voice haunted Her dreams.

He shrugged the urge off, and pushed on.

“You stab me, I’m asking Sammy to fix it. You don’t have good bedside manner.”

“Or you’re just a terrible patient.”

Dean gasped—making his most dramatically wounded face—and when She looked back up, she giggled.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.”

He smirked, nodding in agreement, and Her words didn’t hurt him. People had called Dean an idiot before, and it had always stuck on his skin and coated over his chest. But She said it like it was endearment. As if the softer tone lining Her voice could be affection. For Dean.

She was looking back down to the napkin. Dean needed Her to look at him. To either help Her with what she was doing, or listen to her giggle again. Nothing was ever complicated when She was smiling and giggling at Dean.

“What’s it say?” Dean tried to grab the napkin, and She snatched it away with a glower.

“Hey-“

“C’mon, you’ve been losing your mind over that for like an hour, I could help-“

“So ask like a big boy, Winchester. Say please.”

Dean held Her gaze, grabbed Her wrist, and smirked as she flushed.

“Please, Princess.” He squeezed Her wrist, and he could’ve sworn She leaned into him. “Tell me what’s on your dumb napkin.”

“It’s not dumb.” She mumbled, Her voice a little breathy. It was distracting. “I’m just- I’m trying to figure out the onryo’s MO. Usually they don’t have one, but Joey seems to, and I can’t work it out.”

“What’ve you ruled out?”

“Appearance,” She frowned at Her writing. “Profession. Marital status-“

“Vics weren’t cheaters?”

She shook Her head. “Most were single. It’s just- It’s not making a lot of sense.”

Dean shrugged. He still hadn’t let go of Her wrist. His hand might be trapped there permanently. “Doesn’t matter, right? Long as we gank the fucker, we’re in the clear.”

“Yeah,” She let out a long breath, glancing up at Dean with soft eyes. “I guess. I just- It’s weird.”

“Our lives are weird, sweetheart.” He grinned at Her. “Chill out. Sammy’ll be back soon, and we’ll be done before dinner.”

She nodded, her features relaxing, and Dean felt something loosen in his stomach. He was still touching Her. He couldn’t pull away. She wasn’t even trying to move, not trying to break his gaze, and he had grabbed Her over her shirt but She’d shifted and now he could feel Her skin. It was soft. Warm. It felt so goddamn right under his palm and She wasn’t moving away-

Sam cleared his throat, standing at the side of the table, and She and Dean flew apart. He yanked his hand away—grabbing his fork and tapping it in an uneven rhythm on his plate—and She moved backwards in her seat, hiking a knee up to her chest and looking up at Sam with wide eyes. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey, Sammy, you’re back-“

“Yeah.” Sam was looking between them, his lips twitching. “Am I interrupting-”

“No!” Her voice was high, and frantic. Dean frowned. He would’ve said no too, but She didn’t need to say it like that. “We’re just, um, talking about the case. Did you get what we needed?”

Sam nodded, pulling out a folded paper from his pocket and passing it into Her hands. “That should be enough, right?”

“Uh… Yeah.” She scanned over the list, and Dean didn’t miss Sam’s grin at Her approval. “I’ll head out now to set up?”

He wanted to protest. To tell Her to just stay and eat with them. She’d barely touched her plate, and something in his stomach kept gnawing at the idea of Her going off alone. She might hunt alone all the time, and Dean might know she had her knife, know that he’d be right behind Her, but he still didn’t want to Her to just go alone. He had twisting feeling over his heart at the idea of Her going alone-

“Sure.” Sam passed Her the keys to her car, stepping out of the way so she could exit the booth. “Call if you need anything, and we’ll meet you there in an hour.”

She hummed in agreement, giving them both soft smiles, and Dean was rooted in his seat. He should follow Her, or insist she stayed, and she’d get all fucking pissy about him not thinking she could handle this alone, but he still rather get yelled at then watch Her walk away. She was walking away. Dean needed to shout after Her and-

“She walks fast.” Sam said, dropping in Her now empty seat, and Dean blinked.

“Huh?”

Sam said Her name, settling in his seat. “She walks-“

“I heard you.” Dean snapped, looking out the window to watch Her move through the parking lot. She did walk fast. He’d never really noticed it before, because She always walked just a pace ahead of him, matching his speed perfectly. But alone, She did seem to walk faster. With purpose.

Towards Her car. Away from Dean. He could still run and grab Her. Convince her to come back to the booth-

“Does Dad know you were hunting with her?”

Dean turned back to Sam with a frown. “What.”

“Dad,” Sam leaned back, giving him a pointed look. “I remember what he said about her, Dean. Shit, dude, he hated her, even before he dug that stuff up-“

“Dad didn’t hate her.” Dean muttered. “He was just looking out for us.”

“He was being paranoid. And, just for the record, that woman,” Sam pointed out the window, and Dean realized She was gone. Fuck. “Doesn’t really seem like a spoiled, bratty con-artist.”

Dean scowled. He fucking knew that. And Sam needed to stop saying it, because it made Her more real. Made Her more possible, made Dean crash further up into Her. Fed the idea that he could, maybe, touch Her and not get burned.

“Dad doesn’t know, does he.” Sam crossed his arms, raising his brows. “You lied to him.”

“I didn’t-“

“You did. There’s not a chance he would’ve let you just go off hunting with anyone, let alone her.” Sam grinned at him, and Dean didn’t appreciate the glee on his face. “You were fucking lying to Dad.”

Dean braced his arms on the table, lowering his voice to a hiss. “I’m serious, Sam. Drop it.”

Sam did not drop it. He might be trying to get punched. “No, Dean. You’ve been lying to Dad. You never lie to Dad about anything.”

“Sam-“

“I mean, you’ve lied for me. But c’mon dude.” Sam let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Even you have to stop and think about why you don’t want Dad knowing about her. I mean, she’s nothing like what he said, but Dad’s Dad.”

“What the hell it that supposed to mean?“

“It means he’s not going to like that he was wrong. That she’s cool.” Sam shrugged. “I like her. The only thing I’d worry about is the, uh…”

He trailed off, and Dean frowned. 

“Worry about what?”

“I don’t know.” Sam’s brow furrowed slightly. “I mean, I don’t know what they are. Panic attacks?”

Dean shook his head, his brow drawn in confusion, and Sam gave him an odd look.

“There’s- Dean, there’s no way you haven’t noticed. I mean, you helped her, when she got here. When you did the, uh,” Sam reached up to his face, running his finger over his nose. “That.”

“Oh, yeah, that always calms her down-“

“But what is that?”

“I don’t know.” Dean muttered. “Probably just some girl shit-“

Sam scoffed. “That is not a girl thing. That’s like�� an episode or something. Have you asked her?”

“No. And you,” Dean pointed to Sam with a glower. “Better not say shit.”

He didn’t need to give Her a reason to leave. A reason to think he didn’t want Her around. Those moments were strange—and had been happening more and more frequently—but Dean had dealt with stranger, and he knew how to handle it now. 

And Sam paused, tilting his head. 

“Holy shit, dude.” His face split into a shit-eating grin. “You really like her.”

“What?! No- I- Why the-” Dean narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about-“

“Yeah, I do. I know you, Dean. You don’t want to make her upset, you have a crush-“

Dean slammed his fist on the table, leaning forward with a glower. “Watch it, I’ll kick your fucking ass-“

Sam just shrugged, a shit eating grin on his face. “Whatever. Won’t make you not have a crush on her.”

“I do not have a fucking crush. She’s my friend-“

Sam laughed again, this one louder. “Sure, man. You looked like you were gonna cry when she walked away. I bet you wanna go after her-“

“Because she doesn’t need to do this alone! We hunt together, that’s the point of partners-“

“Partners?” Sam raised his brows. “Do you not hear yourself? You’re so worried about her-“

“Sam, I swear to fucking god-“

“Fine.” Sam raised his hands in surrender, still smirking. “Chill out.”

“I am fucking chill.” Dean grumbled, glancing at Her abandoned plate. “If you’re not eating that, we can go now-“

“No, I’ll eat it. And she’ll be fine, Dean. There was a lot of overlap on this list from the Maggie one, she just needs to find a really specific kind of beer. Actually, you got the perfume, right?”

Dean frowned. “Perfume?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, poking at the plate with his fork. “That bottle in his office, same kind you bought for the first ritual.”

Dean sat up in the booth, a creeping, almost painful chill shooting up his spine and through his blood. “The one with the yellow bottle?”

“Uh huh-“

“French name?” 

“Yeah, dude, I just said it was the same-“

Pieces fell into place in Dean’s head, and he felt sick. He’d fucking seen the bottle in Joey’s office, and remembered it because of Her. Then he’d forgotten until last night, and She’d cut him off before he’d had a chance to tell Her, when he’d gotten back. If he had told Her, she would’ve put it together faster. She would’ve seen the overlap on the lists, pointed out that it was strange to keep perfume in your office if you weren’t actually having an affair. 

If you were confronting your wife about her affair.

Dean shot out of his seat. “We need to go, now.”

“Woah, slow down, we still need to pay-“

“No, fuck, it’s-“ Dean ran a hand over his face, snapping Her name. “She uses that perfume.”

“So?”

“So, if you were a woman trying to cover your affair with your girl best-friend, how would you do it?”

Sam looked at him like he was insane. “I don’t know, Dean, that’s not a situation I’ve thought about once-“

“Would you make your girlfriend use the same perfume you use? Would you buy it for her?”

“I said I don’t know-“

“It’s the perfume, Sam!” Dean was shouting. He didn’t care. “We didn’t think about it! We thought it was the wife who got slighted, but it’s the fucking dude, and all the vics had that goddamn perfume! And-“

“The wife and mistress were using it.” Sam’s eyes widened, and his words far too slow when they had to go. “To hide their affair. And if the husband put that together, he’d… and…” Sam said Her name, and Dean felt his lungs tighten. “She uses…  Fuck.”

It was good Sam got up when he did, or Dean would’ve started to drag him out of the diner. The waitress shouted after them to pay, but he didn’t hear. There was red lining his vision and blood in his ears because he had been an idiot. They never would’ve gotten what the spirit was without Her, they never would’ve gone after the right douchebag without Her, and if Dean hadn’t managed to catch it, She would’ve paid the price for helping him. For Dean being unobservant asshole.

She still might pay the price. They hadn’t saved Her yet. Dean was violating traffic laws and testing Baby’s bounds, but She was in fucking danger and nothing else mattered.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “How do you know it’s her perfume?”

“Shut it, or I’ll fucking shoot you-“

“No, dude, I swear I’m not teasing. I just want to be sure-“

“I’m positive.” Dean grunted, not bothering to look over and see if his brother was listening. “And you better be ready to exorcise this son of a bitch-“

“I got the Japanese down last night. And I’m sure she’s fine, Dean-“

“Shut up.”

Sam raised his hands, and made the smart choice to close his fucking trap and let Dean focus. 

He didn’t bother with proper parking, stopping right on the curb outside the office and sprinting inside. The building was cold. Too cold. Fucking freezing the closer they got to the office, lights flickering in the hallways and all of Dean’s attention narrowed to listen for screams or bangs or cries for help-

The door to the office was locked. He pounded on it—shouting Her name and making the walls shake slightly—but there was no noise from the other side. The overhead lights sparked and flickered, wind seemed to rush through the half-empty hallway, and Dean took several steps back. This building was probably insured, and he needed to get in that fucking room.

Dean cracked his neck, braced his body, and threw himself forward.  

The room was pitch black when he crashed into it—one the overhead lamps hanging from the ceiling and light flooding in from the hallway—and She was sitting in the corner. Her back was pressed to the wall, Her hand around her throat, and Her eyes glassy as they found Dean’s.

He shouted Her name, dropping to his knees at Her side. “Fuck, are you-“

She shook Her head, pushing at his chest. “Dean, go, you need to go-“

“Are you fucking crazy? There’s no way I’m leaving-“

“No, I’ve- I’ve got it, please-“

Sam finally caught up, the paper shaker in one hand and a gun in the other. “Shit, where’s the-“

“Don’t know. Get ready.” Dean never looked away from Her bloodless face, keeping it cradled in one hand. “C’mon, Princess, you're a target, we’re going-“

“No!” She screamed, and Dean didn’t have time to feel something snap in his chest before She was kicking him away.

Before a large, white-clad and blood covered figure appeared right where he’d been before. Reaching down for Her as she curled further down into herself, not even trying to goddamn defend herself.

Dean was certain his heart stopped. That it exploded through his body in a firework of blood and feral, uncontrollable fear. And there was something else, too. Rioting in his chest, burning and golden and bellowing for Her. To save Her. To pull Her from danger, from the pain, from the dark-

He could only see red, only hear his own roar of Her name as the onryo grabbed Her head, slammed it into the wall, and She didn’t fight back.

Dean tackled the onryo. Wrapped his arms around its throat and yanked it away from Her slightly slumping body on the floor. Slammed his knees into its back and crashed them both against the desk, raising his fist to pummel it fucking bloody and uglier-

It threw Dean off with a guttural, ear-bleeding roar, and he felt pain pound over his back as he slammed into the wall. He was vaguely aware of Sam beginning the ritual, but he didn’t care. 

The onryo was heading back for Her. And Sam had realized and was running forward, but he wouldn’t be strong enough if Dean wasn’t, and She wasn’t fighting back.

All the lights in the hallway sparked and flickered, and Dean saw a flash of silver in the dark. He could hear low chanting and muttering in a soft, musical voice, and his head was spinning but he could swear She was moving.

The onryo screamed, and a blinding pillar flame burst through the room. Dean couldn’t think outside of fire. Licking at the ceiling and walls, and he couldn’t see Her anywhere at all-

It was gone in a second, and the room when dark once more. 

A small, weak noise came from the corner of the room, and when Dean’s eyes readjusted, he could see Her in the dark. He didn’t need to think to move to Her.

He just did. 

Holding Her face with his gentlest touch, angling it carefully to check for blood or bruising, muttering Her name until she made another soft sound and he knew she was conscious. He let Her slump forwards into him as Her eyes fluttered, and her breathing eased.

She’d be fine. Dean could see a cut on Her brow, a bite mark on her hand, and a gash on Her shoulder, but he’d stitched up worse for Dad. Her eyes weren’t staying open for more than a second, and her heart was racing when he checked Her pulse on her neck, but her gasps weren’t choked or stuttered so she’d be fine.

“Dean.” Sam muttered from behind them, his voice soft. “Is she-“

“She’s fine.” He grunted, wrapping his arm around her waist to hold Her steady as he moved to his feet. “Hold on,” he whispered Her name in her ear, and she listened, her arms looping around Dean’s neck. 

It was relieving and worrying all at once. She felt fragile again. 

Dean didn’t know if he could live with himself if he broke Her.

“Sam,” Dean didn’t take his eyes off of Her as he spoke, because looking at Her seemed to make just a little bit of the panic fogging his brain clear. He could see Her chest rise and fall. She’d be okay. “I know we still gotta check-“

Sam understood immediately. He usually did. “I can do it. Take her, I’ll meet you back at the motel.”

Dean nodded in silent thanks and—after carefully grabbing Her keys out of her pocket and throwing them to Sam—carried Her in his arms out of the office and into Baby. 

He drove slowly, his grip on the wheel white knuckled as She made soft sounds of pain at his side. Dean had brought Her here. He’d put Her in danger, just because he had missed Her, missed moving in her orbit. She was hurt because he’d been an idiot and brought Her into harm’s way. He’d triggered one of Her episodes because he hadn’t done his job and protected her, and She’d still ended up doing the ritual herself because he was fucking horrible at his job. He’d been lost in his head, just like Dad always told him not to be, and now She was in pain. She’d be okay, safe in a fancy home in some mystery town, if Dean just hadn’t called Her.

And he was a selfish, lonely piece of shit.

And he didn’t want Her to go.

She let him move Her from the Impala to the motel room, leaning into his side and walking in uneven, unsteady steps. At least She was walking. At least when Dean set Her down on his bed, she was able to pull off her own jacket and remove Her own shoes. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, and there was swelling on Her cheekbone where the onryo had grabbed her, but at least She was sitting upright, watching Dean grab their med kit. 

She was a statue, but at least She was here. With Dean. 

Where he could hear Her low, strained noises when he touched her gash, and he could rip his head apart with guilt. 

He’d fucking let that happen to Her. She wasn’t speaking, and Dean couldn’t tell if she was angry, but she should be. Because Dean had failed. 

Dad wouldn’t have failed. Dad would kill Dean if he found out he’d dragged Her into their family business, and she got hurt. He’d yell at Dean for letting Her everything distract him, because she wasn’t a real hunter, she was just a girl.

That’s what Dad had always called Her, when Dean managed to bring Her up. When he’d been testing the waters about telling Dad about Her, and always decided against it because Dad said She was just a lying, spoiled little girl, who didn’t give a damn about Dean.

But She’d killed the onryo. And She’d left him with the Poltergeist, but She’d chosen him with the Demon. When he’d only had Her, even if the worst of his injuries had been a mild concussion. 

Sammy liked Her. She liked Sammy. 

And when Dean glanced back up at Her beautiful face—cast like artwork in the shadows and cool lights of the motel—She was watching him the same way She always did. A little hazier, Her face more open and gentle than usual, but still the same.

Like Dean might be something. Anything at all.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and Dean’s hands stilled.

“What.”

“I’m sorry.” She repeated it, and Dean felt sick. He might break his jaw. “I didn’t mean to. Please, I’m really- I didn’t mean to do that-“

Dean looked up at Her. Her eyes were glossy, Her features bloodless, and her every word choked as Her body curled into herself. Like She was trying to make herself small. Like She was trying to hide.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered again, and Dean glanced down to Her hands in her lap. 

Raw and bloody, lined with marks where She’d begun to scratch.

He grabbed them without a word, moving them apart to rest on the mattress. She made a weak, strangled noise, and Dean could feel it in the goddamn cavity of his chest. Echoing around and burning a hole in his body that was shaped like Her.

“I’m sorry-“

“Why.” He muttered, refocusing his attention onto the gash. “You didn’t fuck anything up. You ganked the son of a bitch, and Sammy’s finishing the ritual for you. We’re fine.”

“The ritual?”

Dean nodded, glancing up at Her. The little furrow was back in Her brow, and she was breathing so fucking fast-

His thumb moved up before he could think about it. Running a soft line down the bridge of Her nose until she let out a long, slow breath, and the sound washed over Dean like rain. 

She’d be okay. Her eyes were still clouded, and She still looked far too small, but Dean would patch Her up and She’d be okay.

He rose without a word when he finished the stitches, muttering an order for Her to stay there, and moves to the kitchenette before he can think better of it. Opened the cabinet and started heating some water, just because he had to do something. If Dean was something, She was more, and he had just fucking do this. A silent apology.

A plea to not leave. To stay with Dean, because he was the fucking worst, but he’d never let that shit happen again. 

She’d moved to the headboard, Her legs curled under her body as she rested against the headboard. And She was still watching him. He wanted to brush the sweaty hair from Her face, and kiss the bruise on Her head, and pull her into a long hug to swear that would never goddamn happen again. 

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t even know how to grab Her face between his hands and tell Her he was sorry. That he’d felt like was suffocating when She’d gotten hurt, that he felt like the lungs and heart—and something else he didn’t even have a word for—were being crush and shredded apart all at once when She’d screamed. 

But he could do this. Dean could walk mix in the cocoa powder, grab one of Sam’s stupid thermoses, and pass the hot chocolate into Her shaking hands. 

He just looked at Her for a long moment. Gorgeous in an almost indescribable way, right before him where he could touch Her if he tried.

He didn't know where to start touching Her. How to start caring about Her the way something like Her—breakable and furious and brutal, brighter than anything Dean had even seen before, would ever see again— would deserve to be cared about. But he had to try. He had to keep Her close, where he could always make sure She’d be okay.

“How’d you know to come?” Her voice was still a breath, but it sounded more like Her, and Dean could take that.

He shrugged. “Got a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling?”

“Yeah.” Dean gave Her a small smirk, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “Tells you what’s wrong and right, when something’s going bad-“

She whacked his arm, and it was weaker than usual, but still Her. She looked more and more like Her by the moment. “Shut up.”

“Bossy.”

She wrinkled Her nose at him, glowering over the thermos as She drank.

He chuckled. “You know, I mean that as a compliment-“

“Don’t tell me what I know, Winchester.”

The laugh that left Dean was loud, and real, and made Her smile. And he felt alive. Right now, Dean was alive at Her side, golden under Her attention, and more relaxed in the dark than he’d been in days.

“Yes, ma’am.” He drawled, and She rolled her eyes.

When She moved the thermos away from Her mouth, there was a little line of milk above Her lips, and Dean grinned. 

“Nice mustache, Princess.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“Your- here.” Dean reached forward before he could think better, and wiped it with his thumb.

He froze in place the moment he drew away. He’d touched Her. And She’d been warm and soft and real. His thumb had brushed over Her upper lip for only a second, so now the feeling of it might be branded on his skin. And when he looked back to Her, she was flushed. With the hitched breath. The parted mouth.

He wanted more. He wanted Her. He didn’t ever want Her to go.

“Uh, where are you going?” He cleared, trying to make his voice as casual as possible. He could do this. “Once we wrap up the loose ends here?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, settling back into the mattress. “Probably home.”

“Which is where?”

She gave him a small smile, taking a long sip of the coco without an answer.

“Never gonna tell me, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe next time, if you make me more of this.”

She tapped the thermos, and Dean felt his own mouth twitch.

“I think that’s bribery, Princess.”

“Maybe.” She hummed, raising Her brows at him. “Are we above bribery?”

Dean chuckled. “Guess not. And, uh,” he took a long breath, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you need it to be next time?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if there wasn’t a next time?”

Something flared on Her face, she leaned slightly away, and Dean’s throat tightened. Not like that. Not at all like that.

“Oh.” She mumbled, and the words began to fall out of Dean like vomit.

“No, I’m not saying that. Opposite of that. I mean, I told you everything, and Sammy likes you, and we’re a good team, Sweetheart, so if you want to, I’m sure Sam wouldn’t be pissed. He’d be for it. He said you were cool, and three is ever safer than two. So, uh, yeah.”

She only blinked. “What?”

Dean felt his face heat. He hadn’t actually said the thing. “Stay.”

“Stay?”

“With me. And Sammy. Just to help us find Dad, then Sammy’ll probably go back to a normal, boring life, and you can do what you do. Just, uh, you can stick around after the hunt. If you want.”

“Stay with you, to find…“ She trailed off, and Dean couldn’t read that expression. He couldn’t fucking think, not outside of Her eyes on his, and the smell fruit dragging him into a pure sense of Her.

“Our Dad.” Dean finished Her sentence, and her throat bobbed. 

She let out a slow breath, hugging Her own body and ducking Her head, and Dean felt his chest go numb before she even spoke.

“I can’t.” She mumbled, rubbing that scarred palm over her calf. “I’m really sorry, Dean. Just, my dad-“

“Don’t. It’s fine.” He rubbed his own brow, his gaze fixed on Her hand. Close enough to touch.

But not really close at all.

“Dean-“

“I’m serious. It was just an offer.”

“But-“

He snapped Her name, and it was harsher than he meant it, but something also felt like it was peeling along his ribs. She didn’t want him. Nobody would want him. He’d gotten Her hurt, and he had no good reason to think She’d stick around for him. She didn’t feel this, it was all only Dean losing his mind and falling to his knees for a woman that he could never have. She sounded wounded and desperate, but She wasn’t his to wound, and She’d told him she didn’t want to stay. That She wanted to go back home. Somewhere of the mud, somewhere Dean wasn’t good enough to follow her to.

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” He muttered. She needed to rest, and Dean didn’t need Her sorrys. He didn’t really deserve them. “Go to sleep, Princess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She took a long breath. “Dean?”

He grunted, unable to look Her in the eyes, and She sighed.

“I know I, you-“ She cut herself off with a swallow, her voice growing softer by the second. “But can you, um, can you please- I don’t want to- Could you please sit?”

Dean frowned at the floor. “What.”

“With me. Sit with me. Until I fall asleep.” She whispered. “You can go after, if you do, but… Please.”

Her voice was so goddamn light, so dream-like, and Dean didn’t think he’d ever learn to not bend for it. Not when his eyes dragged back to Her’s, and they were calling him further down. Drawing him closer with only Her. Still just Her, at Dean’s side, in the whole universe of a motel room.

And She wanted him for this. Only this. 

But at least it was something.

He nodded, and forced himself to ignore the spark up his spine when a She mumbled a thanks, and closed her eyes with a soft breath.

She was passed out in only a few minutes, and Dean stayed at Her side. Just a nod felt like it was an oath, when it was for Her. So Dean sat at Her side, and watched her sleep like that same creep he’d been the night before.

He didn’t really notice Sam returning. He couldn’t look anywhere but Her. Slack faced and breathing slow, drooling onto the pillow in a way Dean wanted to wipe from her chin, hair in her face he wanted to brush away, lips parted that he always wanted to touch. 

Beautiful. Not his to have. 

But She’d be here until morning. And She’d asked him to stay with Her, so he’d sit in the dark for Her and practice how he’d let Her go when she walked away. Remind himself that it was for the better She wouldn’t stay. She wouldn’t get hurt. And he would see Her again.

Maybe, while she was hunting without him, She’d find someone who actually kept her safe. Who did what Dean wasn’t good enough to do, and didn’t just watch Her in the dark. They’d hold Her in the dark. They’d be Her dark, just like Dean irrationally craved, but deserving. Worthy of a star falling into their hands, worthy of holding it with them all the time. 

Dean felt sick. Her hand was splayed across the mattress. 

He let himself hold it. If this was the only chance he had, and She didn’t flinch away when he twined his fingers with Her’s, he’d hold Her hand.

He’d take tonight. 

And he’d learn how get a grip in the morning. 

End Note: Diversity win! These Lesbians were part of a triple murder suicide!

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[itsactuallylina]

YOU’RE ALL I WANT ꩜ ZB1

SYNOPSIS: spending valentine’s day with them <3

PAIRING: zb1 maknae line x f!reader

GENRE: fluff !

WORD COUNT: .6k, (.2k-.3k for each member)

check out the masterlist —> here! ; reblogs are appreciated <3

ricky: the day will be spend in the art cafe! enjoying each others company, while sipping your favorite drinks and drawing portraits of each other. best believe, ricky will rent out the whole cafe, so you two won’t be distracted by anyone else. since he majored in fine arts, he would love to help you if you’re struggling! if not, he will act like he is having a hard time just for you to come and help him!! not to mention, ricky would get you so many gifts, its adorable. even if you protest, saying you can’t accept it, he will pout. “i was reminded of you when i saw it, so please wear it? for me?”, he says, holding up a really pretty necklace with a bright pink heart, and with that adorable gaze , you realize you never stood a chance. —the rest under cut!

gyuvin: valentine’s day with him would be so chaotic, but fun. it would all start with him dragging you to the rollerblading ring. gyuvin would act so confident, but as he makes the first steps, he immediately falls. seeing you laugh at him makes him smile, but gyuvin still brings you down with him. “I suffer, you suffer”. he definitely would try to slow dance with you on the rollerblades!! after this, gyuvin would take you to the photobooth to take silly pictures. one with you having your tongue out, on the second picture, you doing puppy ears to each other, and the last one! him kissing you on the cheek, while you are smiling so sweetly! the day would end with the movie marathon — your favorite flowers standing on the bedside table as you rest in his arms.

gunwook: in the early morning, he would come to get you, choosing your outfit, just to make sure you guys match. then surprising you with a cute picnic date! the sun shining softly, casting a warm and romantic glow. all of your favorite snacks and drinks on the display. you would play board games he prepared, you losing horribly. but gunwook is a gentleman, so he lets you win<3 not a lot tho, he still has pride to uphold! for the desserts he would prepare something homemade, something he baked by himself, with the help of his mom. not too sweet, because “you’re the sweetest thing ever”. he’d take out the large bear plushie, hugging you. “you deserve everything in the world, but lets start with that”. walking you to your doorstep, sweetly kissing you and calling right away as you disappear from his eyesight.

yujin: oh such a cutie! yujin would pick you up, invite you to his dorm, and cook for you! he learned the recipe online a few days prior, just to make sure it would be perfect. stops you from doing anything, “you just sit pretty and yap my ears off, i love when you do this”. many would think he’s super shy, but as the relationship progresses yujin becomes so clingy and playful! always wanting hugs and kisses, not even shying away from you. after he successfully feeds you, you take a break, playing mario kart, you winning, so he distracts you with a kiss on the cheek. you forgive him tho, cause he is a cutie. you baking cookies together as the last activity of the day! the sweet scent of strawberry cookies fills the air, the one that you both-oh, so love! yujin would feed you a few before making a little mess and having a decorating session. so many hearts and bunnies, that end up being eaten by you two, you wouldn’t have it any other way though.

a/n: valentines special <3 hope you had a great one, bcs i did <3 my friends gave me cute valentines and we joked around a lot. me, my sister and my dad then ordered take out and it was tasty. no boyfriend ≠ no great valentine’s day. you’ll all meet someone perfect for you one day<3!!

[howtofightwrite]

Every movie makes it look so easy to snap someone's neck by twisting their head really fast and hard, and it's used all the time, but it can't possibly be that easy or effective can it? It's not like every Joe Schmoe on the street can start going around snapping necks can they? They also love to have people snap necks between their thighs, I imagine that's even harder and less likely to work.

So, breaking someone's neck with your bare hands basicallyisn't a thing. Actually breaking your neck doesn't take a lot of force, but the whole neck snap thing takes an absolutely comical amount of force to work, and even if it did, it wouldn't necessarily be lethal. The idea is that it severs the spinal column or the brain stem, but in practice, all you'd be able to do is abuse some dense muscles and ligatures.

This is a real risk in auto accidents, particularly if the victim isn't properly belted, but the version you see in films is pure fiction.

Choking someone out is a lot more viable. This can either come from asphyxiation, or from obstructing blood flow to the brain. The former is slow, and is likely to cause the victim to panic while they slowly lose consciousness. The latter (sometimes called a blood choke, or triangle choke) can quickly lead to death, as you starve the brain of oxygen by cutting it off after it's been absorbed by the body. You do sometimes see these in film, though the amount of time needed to subdue someone is hilariously abbreviated. If you're just choking someone, that will take minutes before they'll lose consciousness, and they're going to seriously start to freak out once they realize they can't breath. Blood chokes, as mentioned earlier, are faster, but you're still looking at a long time in a fight.

Neck snapping with the thighs is about as plausible as the neck twist. Choking someone out with the thighs is slightly more credible. Legs can be used in submission holds while grappling. But, if we're being honest, I think we all know that this isn't used because it's realistic, it's the sex appeal. Without speaking from personal experience, I suspect thigh chokes are harder to get out of, simply because your legs are significantly stronger than your arms, but I'm speculating.

Also, importantly, suffering a broken neck isn't (usually) going to be immediately lethal. As mentioned earlier, unless the spinal chord is severed or the brain stem is damaged, they'll survive. This may result in a life altering injury, but it's not going to be an, “oh, they're instantly, and quietly, dead.”

I remember running across a news report, when we last covered this, where a couple of teens had decided to kill someone by snapping their neck. The victim ended up with some soreness in their neck, and the teens went away for attempted murder. Moral of the story, this doesn't work.

-Starke

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[konigsluvr]

Hey hey! I'd like to request König headcanons please. I was thinking more of his childhood but it can be anything really :D thanks x

Also I'm an Avatar fan too! Don't seem to know a lot of people who are into both #teamneteyam

Hey!! I looooove Avatar so much, I haven't been reading it much lately but 2 months ago I was on tumblr all day, everyday just reading various Avatar fics (best days of my life). I miss neteyam so much :(( I really hope this is to your liking<3 i have included some NSFW headcannons, but there will be a warning, if you are uncomfortable, just skip. Reposts are highly appreciated. I will literally marry you. And of course, here I present...

★ navigation ★ masterlist ★

König Headcanons

Includes: Childhood König. König x fem!reader. Fluff. Spice. Smut.

☆ As said in his biography, he has suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life. This probably started developing in maybe late childhood/early teens.

☆ I can picture him as the quiet kid in school. Had a couple chill friends that he was comfortable around and hung out with after school.

☆ I think König was average grade student (like me lmao), not bad grades but not super good either, he just did what he had to do at school.

☆ He liked helping around the house so he could contribute and help his parents save time.

☆ He applied to the military at 17, having a job that allows him to blow off steam would help with his anxiety sometimes but if it's a more dangerous mission than usual, his anxiety might peak but he could have coping mechanisms.

☆ Even though he is 6'10" and literally all muscle, he can't stay still. Due to his anxiety again, he is fidgety at times depending on the social situation he is in. Now this leads onto the relationship stuff.

☆ With him being fidgety, I feel his love language is physical touch. He can sometimes struggle with his words but you always know that he loves you when he cuddles you or does little things like playing with your hair or holding your hand whenever you are in public.

☆ König isn't the best at working with technology but you'll show him how he can text you and phone you, so whenever he has free time at base or whenever he isn't with you, expect him spamming you with texts because he misses you so much :((

☆ He has a gym at home for when he wants to work out but with him having such a physical job he doesn't feel the need to workout everyday, maybe 3 or 4 times a week when he's home with you but at base he'll do it more as its like the only thing to do there.

☆ He enjoys going on walks. When he's home with you he'll love going on a walk in the woods or just wondering around town with you, go shopping to get food for supper or something, he'll sneakily buy flowers to surprise you. At base, he sometimes can't sleep well so he'll just walk around for some fresh air to clear his mind.

☆ His down time with you would be watching your favourite show or a random movie. He would do it just to cuddle up or be with you but he will get invested. Like I watched the notebook last night and I was thinking about König crying as you watch the notebook together.

☆ Like you'll be watching the movie and a sad scene comes up, you are already crying and you hear a sniffle but it isn't from you. You turn to your left and see a tear rolling down Königs cheek. This will make you cry harder as you wipe away his tears and cuddle into his neck.

☆ With König having a high payed job, he has a lot of money that he doesn't know how to spend. Lucky him, he has you. You would tell him its no bother, that you have enough clothes and pretty jewellery to last you a lifetime but he drags you to the car to your favourite store and you can't help but give in.

☆ He would get a former guard dog and train it to only command you and him, this dog would stay at home with you all the time. You would take it out walks and just spend your whole day with it. He wants to make sure you are safe all of the time.

NSFW AHEAD!!

☆ He likes to take it slow, make ethereal love to you and treat you like your made of glass. You would let a few tears roll down your cheek from his sweetness.

☆ Pussy eater!!! He is like a god with his tongue. Worships your clit like its his favourite thing while his fingers work in and out of you. It doesn't matter if you are crying from overstimulation, you have a safe word. His only mission is making you cum.

☆ Loves face sitting, literally just loves your pussy on his face and your thighs pushing against the side of his head. You would tell him that you are too heavy, he huffs frustrated and pulls you down on him and instantly gets to work. Let's just say, you forgot about what you said 3 seconds ago.

☆ Breeding kink. Sorry, not sorry. In all his fantasies about you, it's you all pretty n pregnant with his baby. You will have that pregnant woman glow and he just can't keep his hands off of you. He doesn't really wear condoms but you'll usually be on the pill, he still struggles to pull out but it's nearly impossible for him. But when he does cum in you, he finds it the sexiest thing ever. He'll use his fingers to plunge his load back into you to feed his growing hunger.

☆ He loves when you top him and take your time with him, but he also enjoys being in charge and having his sole focus on you, even if you just came for the fourth time from his tongue and his cock is rock hard.

☆ The ratio between him giving you head and you giving him head is very diverse. He loves a good blowie but only does it when you want to, he will never ask you.

☆ Isn't one for quickies, he wants to take his time with you. He wouldn't like the risk of someone else seeing you being intimate with him, that is a sight only for him to see.

☆ Isn't afraid to make noise in the bedroom. Whimpering. Moaning. Whining. Groaning. He does it all.

I hoped you liked this!! If you have any more requests don't be shy. Stay safe and take care of yourself my lovies xx

[fortheloveofshitsandgiggles]

Unreal Unearth is an album that means a lot to me. It’s one of if not the greatest albums I’ve ever heard. Each song impacts me in a different way, so I wanted to go through each song with my own experience and interpretations (disclaimer, some of these analyses are my personal interpretation or how I react to the song, art is subjective and is what you make it)

De Selby (Part 1): oh my god I’ve been dying to hear Hozier sing in Gaeilge. I actually sang a song in Gaeilge in choir a few years back, and while it was difficult for me pronunciation wise, it was super fun to sing and is a beautiful and underrated language in my opinion. I also adore how haunting it is. It sounds like the soundtrack to my crisis (and it has been). I struggle to explain it, but the melody is so tormenting, especially with the layered voices in the second half of the Gaeilge verse. They feel very ghost like. It’s such an incredible way to introduce us into the decent into hell.

Transition: Yes I’m giving this special section because it’s one of the greatest song transitions I’ve ever heard. It’s really difficult to transition from a slow song into an upbeat one, but this one did it in a way that allows my brain to adjust to the difference in tempo. First of all, it lowers in pitch until it matches the key of part 2, musically representing our slow decent into hell. Then it starts with this beat that goes into part 2, and to me, this represents a building of insanity, one that is further explored in part 2.

De Selby (part 2): This is one of my favorite songs on the entire album. First of all, the beat is so addictive and the song generally makes me want to shake my ass. But beyond that, this song encompasses insanity in a way that I haven’t seen before but is also so relatable. Even with the music video, like there are times where I have felt exactly like the guy in the video and I just want to run into the abyss and forget everything and hit myself with a shovel. Hozier has such a talent for making relatability so artistic and unreal (forgive the pun).

First Time: This song is so full of complex lyricism that I couldn’t even begin to dive into. It’s super vibey, which I appreciate. A few notable lyrics I’d like to point out is “But you spoke some quick new music that went so far to soothe this soul as it was and ever shall be, unearth without a name.” I don’t know if anyone’s talked about this, but this lyric was so similar to the “glory be” prayer (I grew up Catholic lol) that goes “glory be to the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit, as it was and ever shall be, a world without end.” I don’t know if that was intentional/ the direct inspiration but I def did a double take when I heard that lyric. If it is intentional, I love how he twists it from a praise god I’ll get into Heaven sort of plea into describing the limbo we are trapped in, unearth without a name. The other lyric is “These days I think I owe my life to flowers that were left here by my mother, Ain't that like them, giftin' life to you again” I just think that’s such a sweet line that appreciates the kindness in humanity, especially so many mothers including my own. I would like to give a shoutout to Hozier’s mom for birthing and raising him, I would love to shake hands with her.

Francesca: This is maybe one of the best songs Hozier has ever put out. It has been on repeat since the second he dropped it. First of all, the sheer concept of this song, to love someone so full and so deeply that you would endure every ounce of pain and suffering that is inflicted on you because of this love, that is so powerful and just has such an element of storytelling that is as thrilling as watching a movie. To endure such hardship for the sake of a simple touch makes me want to cry. We all want something like that, to be protected and to be worth the sacrifice of another. And the lyrics encompass that perfectly, especially “Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I.” Now, being religiously traumatized myself, Heaven is a concept that I’ve gotten to know well. Eternal bliss and joy in the comfort of Jesus. It has hung over my head and has been used to keep me in the religion, especially as a comfort when it comes to the concept of death. But to say that even this place of eternal bliss and love and joy isn’t fit for the kind of love we possess just absolutely guts me. It is just beyond incredible.

I, Carrion (Icarian): As if Francesca wasn’t devastating enough, Hozier had to follow it up with this one. I absolutely love the use of Icarus imagery in songs, I love Icarus by Bastille (it especially reminds me of Crowley and Aziraphale from Good Omens). I know he used Icarus imagery in previous songs, and this is no hate to Sunlight, but I was def looking for something gentler that further explored the different perspectives of the story. And you know what, Hozier delivered. To paint the fall as something beautiful or as not even perceiving it as a tragedy is such a fresh take that I love the exploration of. “If I should fall on that day I only pray don’t fall away from me,” that hit me like a bag of bricks when I first heard it. Like, he’s plummeting from the sky, and still says “allow the ground to find its brutal way to me.” No matter what the ground holds for me, as long as I’m falling with you, everything will be alright. It becomes this state of delusion that is both heartwarming and devastating.

Eat Your Young: This song is what I have affectionately and repeatedly referred to as the “sexiest political commentary I’ve ever heard.” The melody and beat are so seductive, which just contributes to the appeal of the message, despite it being a pretty horrifying one. But it is from the perspective of the villain, which is an interesting point to write from. To say that it’s easier to cut out the middle man and eat your children rather than do atrocious things for power and money that will kill them anyways is such a relevant take on not only politics and capitalism but just the greedy side of humanity in general. The song is almost a trick, like it makes the greed sound so appealing and acts as a siren song to push the narrator’s unreliable narrative.

Damage Gets Done: I love Hozier songs that dive into the feeling of being young. Songs like Sedated and even Jackie and Wilson are reminiscent of that. We often think we’re indestructible when we’re young and we think we can do anything. We become reckless, but that recklessness isn’t what kills us. It’s the people in power who damage us with the laws they pass and systems they create. It sounds so happy like childhood, and yet it reminisces on what it was like to not be forced to participate in these systems such as capitalism. It felt good to just be free and not be tied down by the world. The melody of this song sounds nostalgic and hype like the energy of a young person. Also shoutout Brandi Charlie, I adore her voice on this track and in general.

Who We Are: We have to get through things one way or another, but “getting through still has a cost.” God, this line hits because even when the “damage gets done,” we still have to hurt in order to heal. And it hurts the most when you didn’t realize what you lost until it’s gone. The other lyric that hits is “someone with your eyes might come in time to hold me like water or christ hold me like a knife” hold me even though I’ll slip through your fingers, or if you can’t do that, wield me as something that can cause damage. And there’s nothing else we can do about it. Why? Because that’s who we are. Also, Hozier’s vocals on this song are absolutely insane, those high notes are so angelic. I don’t think I knew his range went that high but I was super impressed.

Son of Nyx: It seems like I say every song is my favorite (because they’re all so freaking good), but this one has got to be my favorite on the album. Despite the lack of words, this song stuck out to me the most. I want to kiss the composer of this piece. First of all, I’m an absolute slut for orchestral/ cinematic songs. And this song is unlike any of his other songs. It carries this haunting melody that is almost angelic in a way but the minor key pulls you back down into this journey of hell that we’ve been going on. It incorporates the melodies from other songs on the album beautifully. I’ve only been able to pick out the melodies from who we are and abstract, so let me know if there’s any others I missed. But the moment where the orchestra swells makes me actually ascend into the next dimension. I swear I had an out of body experience when I heard it for the first time. It’s so terrifying in a beautiful way and words can’t properly convey how this song makes me feel. It doesn’t need to have words for me to understand it, and pieces like that are especially impactful to me.

All Things End: Wow what a way to follow that. It definitely gives a bit of whiplash. First of all, I love the music video for this because the cut from Heaven Hozier singing with his little surgeon church choir to him dead on a table makes me giggle every time, it’s so abrupt. Anyways, it’s interesting that this song goes under the circle of Heresy, because the connection isn’t immediately obvious. But, to me, it does make a lot of sense. To say all things end, including Heaven and hell, inherently denies the belief in Christian ideals. Which, to me, is empowering in a way. This song is simultaneously hopeless and hopeful at the same time. It says that joy will end eventually, but so will the pain. It’s a comfort and an anxiety all wrapped up into one song.

To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe): I’m gonna be honest, this one was harder for me to figure out. It’s incredibly simple in a way that is so effective. To me, this song sounds like being unable to provide for someone what they need. And that’s one of the most devistating feelings, one that the simple sad sound of the song encompasses very well. I know what it feels like to be unable to give what someone needs. It makes you feel so stuck and so useless, a feeling which I despise. And Hozier, as he always does, broke my heart with this one. But he was only gearing me up for what would come later with Unknown.

Butchered Tongue: One thing this song reminds me of is how much history we’ve lost. I think about this a lot, the texts we could’ve had, the wisdom we could’ve shared with one another, all lost to the greed of other human beings. I think of the Indigenous cultures that were viciously stripped away in the name of god, the languages lost, the abuse endured. I think of the stories of LGBTQ+ people that remain untold because it didn’t fit the ideal image of those in power. I think of the untold thoughts and lives brutally taken to early. We build incredibly complex and beautiful cultures but we still put in the hours to tear them down. It’s a really upsetting reality, to know that loss happens all around us and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. But we are also encouraged to be kind, so if you take anything from this post, from this song, please show kindness to all, especially those whose stories remain untold.

Anything But: This one is just so groovy I always gotta do a little dance when I hear it. What’s interesting is this song is framed like a love song. But to me, this sounds like running from something or someone. Like “I don’t wanna be anything but I would do anything just to run away” like yeah same. I just want to run away from everything and move into a cottage in the woods or something. It really captures that feeling of just wanting to get tf out of here.

Abstract (Psychopomp): Circling back to the religious trauma thing, I’ve always had a fear of death. Or rather, what comes after death. With the threat of hell always hanging above my head, I was scared to step out of that narrative they always trapped me in with. I don’t wanna suffer for eternity after my short existence. So I’ve always struggled with the idea of dying. But this song frames the journey to the afterlife as something beautiful, which is so comforting, I can barely put it into words. The idea that a spirit guide could be escorting you to the afterlife and they tell you to look back at Earth and “see how it shines” makes me feel a relief unlike any other. I know this song is based on an experience Hozier had where he watched an animal get hit by a car and watched someone comfort the animal in its last moment. But the way this song treats the concept of death is just so moving. It captures the fear and the pain but also the beauty of having someone to share those last moments with and having someone guide you beyond. The imagery in this song is such pure storytelling I feel like I am recounting the memory as if it’s my own.

Unknown / Nth: Not only is this song the most devastating one on the album, it’s maybe the most devastating song I’ve ever heard. I went through a breakup a while back and every single lyric described every single thing I was feeling about that lost relationship. It captured me and my pain so well I’m convinced Hozier crawled into my brain and wrote this. He described feelings I couldn’t even fit into words. The teaser that Hozier posted for this song on tik tok actually came out right in that stage where I could feel they were drifting away from me. This was a long distance relationship, so first the “you know the difference never made a difference to me” hit hard. Not only that, I always called them my angel, so “I thought you were like an angel to me” was just double the emotional damage. Then, we get to the bridge. This bridge is the absolute most gut wrenchingly genius string of words ever written. “Do you know I could break be with the weight of the goodness love I still carry for you? That Id walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you” Holy. Shit. I’m someone who, when I love someone, I love them with every ounce of myself. I would bend the Earth if they asked me to, I would give them my life and soul to sell to Satan. For a long time after that breakup, I still loved them and that love just fueled my grief. I knew this person like the back of my hand, I knew every inflection in their voice, every joke they hadn’t yet made, every feature of their face. And they knew me, fully and deeply in a way few people do. They listened, and they made me feel heard. And all of the sudden, it was all gone. And I did break beneath that weight, because I still loved and knew them, but didn’t get to know anymore. I didn’t get to know what they were doing now, how they were doing, I didn’t get to call them every single night anymore. But despite all of the pain, I would gladly do it over and over again. I can’t bring myself to regret any of it. “And there are some people love who are better unknown.” All I’ve ever wanted was to be understood. I struggle to make friends, and sometimes when I do, I’m only relevant when I’m beneficial. I’ve only ever wanted to be known by those around me. And they knew me. But when they left, I felt like I was unknown again. And I too resigned myself to that idea that maybe I am better unknown.

Transition: The transition between Unknown / Nth and First Light is much more subtle than the one between the De Selbys. But it’s there and it’s worth mentioning. When Unknown / Nth ends, we are left with this sinking and hopeless feeling that we will forever be stuck in that ice, flapping our wings. That hopelessness is drawn out in this ghost of a lingering note that pulls through the end of the song. Then the very first note of First Light is the same as the last note of Unknown / Nth.

First Light: The beginning of this song sounds exactly like rays of light spilling through the cracks. It sounds like the relief of light hitting your eyes after being trapped in a place of darkness for a long time. As the song goes on, it starts to sound more like an ascension. The vocals become very angelic and the whole song grows into this powerhouse of force that just gives off such a hope and determination that we haven’t felt for this whole album. To me, it’s very interesting that Hozier decides to end this album on such a hopeful note despite how devastating every other song was. I was convinced he was going to end the album on Unknown, and he very well could’ve done that. He could’ve left us in the deepest circle of hell. But he chose to end on this super optimistic note of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I think it just gives us a look into his own optimism and his belief that our resilience as humans has and will pay off. We are constantly faced with adversity and won’t stop until we take our last breaths. But our desire to keep fighting is what makes us such a uniquely incredible species. And the payoff afterwards is a satisfaction that nothing else can quite compare to.

Hozier has such a way of turning the human experience into something otherworldly. He never ceases to amaze me with how his mind creates. I hope I get to tell him one day how much his art means to me and how deeply it’s affected me.

[meraki-yao]

I know we shouldn't compare them because it's not fair but when I think about how much criticism rwrb received as a film and how it was never enough for the audience but the first reviews of the idea of ​​you call it "film of the decade" (I really doubt it, please people watch more movies) or say that people were screaming in the theater during the sex scenes... As a queer person it makes me suffer that the projects made for us are never good enough for the public but for straight films literally is enough the bare minimum to make them scream masterpiece. Again, this isn't a comparison or hate for tioy but it makes me sad.

Honestly, I'm in the exact same place as you are. I was thinking about it a lot this morning.

I don't know how fair my judgement is because I am inherently biased towards RWRB but I also feel upset about how much TIOY is getting compared to RWRB. Granted TIOY has the advantage of star power, with Nick being more well-known after RWRB and M&G and Anne freaking Hatheway, and to a certain degree One Direction/ Harry Styles, but just from the premise... It's doesn't sound as groundbreaking or new as what RWRB or even M&G did. I can expect it to be a fun romantic movie, but I can't see it being something as... fresh and impactful/ meaningful to an audience as RWRB and M&G are.

I don't know how much right I have to say this as someone who currently identifies as cis-straight, but the double standards between queer media like RWRB and heterosexual media like TIOY is very frustrating, It's like there's so many more steps for queer media to climb to "catch up" with a straight media of a similar genre/premise. Even with the ratings, RWRB did not deserve R at all. But I do think we're gradually making steps towards improving this phenomenon. Slow steps, but steps nonetheless. So please don't loose hope.

As for "film of the decade"... I'm sorry but that's gotta be an exaggeration. Stuff like Barbie, Oppenheimer, Avenger Endgame, Spider-Verse being called "film of the decade", I can understand, but this is not it. Hell, as much as it's straight up part of my soul now, I don't think RWRB fits "film of the decade". If we're taking that title seriously, then that's gotta be something really creative and new, something that hits hard. So yeah, you're right. People need to watch more movies, or have better media literacy.

I don't think there's been a single day since the movie was released that I didn't agonize and grieve over what we could have had. RWRB had so many disadvantages: As upsetting as it is, queer media, especially rom-com is still inherently seen as something lesser, which is fucked up, but unfortunately it's where we're at right now. On top of that, the timing of the strike directly coincides with the promo period of RWRB. The strike was for a good cause and achieved great things for actors, it was necessary, but that doesn't stop the lost of what we could have from hurting. So compared to other movies and projects (and not even necessarily just the boys' projects, recent streaming media in general) RWRB had so many disadvantages. If this was a race, then our starting line was pulled back a couple of miles.

But on the bright side, you gotta think: even with nearly zero promo, even with so many disadvantages and setbacks, RWRB still managed to achieve a lot: Most streamed movie on the platform globally for (I think?) three weeks, top most-streamed three romcoms on the platform all time, PGA and Glaad award nomination (and hopefully more to come down the line) and look at us! We're still going strong, and a sequel is in talks. There's never a fair comparison when it comes to things like this, but I said we're pretty amazing, and that's something that can't be taken away.

[optiwashere]

19, 23, 34 :)

Thank you for asking these ones! 💜

19. How do you get over writer's block?

I was rambling about this in my drafts this morning, actually. So, you get my rambling here! Yay!

I think there's two parts to writer's block that need addressed when it strikes.

The first is getting yourself to engage in the creative process. This is way easier said than done for some folks. I absolutely get that, but there is a very real need to enjoy just doing the thing. In this case, just writing. Opening up a document in [insert your word processor of choice] and just typing. The first few sentences might be complete nonsense and need removed, and maybe the first few paragraphs or whatever, but momentum carries when you're writing. So, I make myself write every day to help stave this off for as long as I can. I only ask myself to write 100 words in a day, minimum. That way, if I can only muster 100, I've met my goals. But most of the time, the very act of forming interesting, fun, funny, witty, unsettling, or angry sentences pushes me to keep writing to mold the story around my ideas.

But, of course, that doesn't always work. Some days you're experiencing total burnout. And that's OK! Part of the creative process, and defeating writer's block, is in giving yourself the grace to recharge your creative batteries.

That recharging can be reading a book, playing a video game, watching TV/movies, listening to music, going on a hike, playing an instrument, working on your car... there's no limit to it. Yes, you should keep up with your medium of choice—writing for us—but it's important to allow yourself to experience whatever it is that really revitalizes you. You're not "losing out" on writing time by painting a beautiful landscape outside your window or watching an episode of a TV show with a compelling plotline or witty dialogue.

For me, I like watching movies. Slow, careful movies that most people would think are boring. To be frank, a lot of them are boring indie movies. But that is kinda the point. Allowing myself to be bored and consider a film is part of that creative recharge for me.

It's not always about that for me, though. I'll rewatch something like Fire Walk With Me or Wendy and Lucy and it will completely reinvigorate me and my brain will catch fire with ideas. Not even ideas necessarily related to those works, at least on the surface level. But I let my mind stay away from writing for long enough that it craved the very act of sitting down and typing and spewing my thoughts out onto the page, so when I engaged with art that moved me, I was compelled to create something in conversation with what just moved me.

Be kind to yourself, and the words will follow. Suffering is not a requirement to create art.

23. What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I answered with two fics here... but there's always more!

Another BG3 fic I've been completely unable to figure out how I want to start is another fic taking place early in the Asheera/Shadowheart canon. There's a lot of fiddly bits with memory loss going on there, and I've just been completely unable to start it! I'll get there. Eventually.

Non-BG3 fic: Melisande/Phèdre from Kushiel's Legacy. I need to write that, but that's another one that I really don't think I could get right at this moment. Maybe some day.

34. Answered here!

[co27]

9 people you'd like to know better

tagged by: @funshinebf woah!! hey!! hi!! :3

a) three ships:

DELLUMBRA. my beloveds forever and ever and ever. an animator put della and penumbra holding hands in the chibi valentines day thing and its the only thing that matters for the rest of time. seeing them never fails to make me the happy smiler

spova... HRHGHGHHGHGHHHHH (STARTS CLAWING AT THE WALLS) im getting a bunch of my irls to watch the show with me and like how do i explain why sparx catching nova in circus of ooze makes me actually start howling in pain. the slow burn... the trust... the botched confessions the loss the self blame. oh god its all just so fucking painful forever ill never be over them

tomshiv :) theyre the perfect eternal punishment for each other and i love seeing them make each other suffer. the dirty talk scene in season 3 permanently altered my brain chemistry and tom wambsgans mr brightside is the greatest video of our generation

a1: bonus ships:

SERIREI :) save me serirei... serirei save me... such a classic i love those crazy businessmen. 2018 serirei was literally the perfect era like you had to be there

joongdok. thousand yard stare. ive been coming around to yoohankim lately too but i feel like a lot of content doesnt really capture what i like about orv so i dont look at or like a lot of the shippy content in the first place

gibotto

also gibson/sparx

b) first ever ship:

...... :( it was grey/juvia from fairy tail. yandere x tsundere was like elite to me. if i close my eyes and pretend im in a universe where fairy tail is good i can honestly see the vision. the first one that made me really crazy crazy about shipping though was germany and italy from hetalia unfortunately. sorry. and sometimes i fear i may never escape the annoyingly optimistic x grump who secretly likes it trope and its all their fucking fault

c) last song:

hello, i love you by adore delano. SHE JUST GETS ME

d) last movie:

uuhhhh fuck i watch a lot of movies absolutely baked with my friends so its hard to remember. i think everything everywhere all at once :) i sincerely believe it is one of the best movies ever made. STEPHANIE HSU WAS ROBBED AT THE OSCARS

e) currently reading:

cirice by madeline miller, i havent picked it up in months tho... and i keep telling myself im going to start one piece and dungeon meshi but i havent yet #laziness

f) currently watching:

sooo many things but im currently keeping up with season 16 of drag race with my friend. besides that primarily trigun stampede and hannibal because im watching those with my friends. and i count srmthfg again. but also dungeon meshi is on the backburner too. and a million other things like the boys and interview with the vampire... GOD THERES TOO MANY SHOWS GUYS

g) currently consuming:

idk waht this means. if its about eating then i have a big tub of cocktail peanuts that im munching on right now

h) currently craving:

DAVES HOT CHICKEN. SAVE ME DAVES HOT CHICKEN

9 people to tag:

um uh um uhhh @godza @morguerue @irradiatedsnakes @faglagomorph @treecakes @itaots @soulreaper @puppetlooselystrung @vampirewings and also anyone else who wants to talk about themselves yay!!! i hope its okay i tagged you heart emoji <3

easily copyable version under the cut for joy and prosperity yay

9 people you'd like to know better

tagged by:

a) three ships:

a1: bonus ships:

b) first ever ship:

c) last song:

d) last movie:

e) currently reading:

f) currently watching:

g) currently consuming:

h) currently craving:

9 people to tag:

[richmonds-disaster-bi]

Angsty Roy/Jaime prompt: Roy suffers a head injury that leads to temporary amnesia, so he forgets that he and Jaime are married now. Roy only remembers Jaime when he was the S1 prick. He's appalled when he finds out that he's actually romantic with the prick and it takes everyone to stop him from going to the courts for a divorce ASAP. Jaime is utterly devastated, but refuses to let himself break. He has this unwavering belief that Roy will remember them. He takes all care of Roy, who gives him nothing but disdain but also feels really guilty that Jaime is so devoted to him, feeling frustrated for not knowing how he came to earn such love from a guy he considered his biggest enemy. It's Phoebe who basically tells her uncle Roy to pull his head out of his ass and be nice to Jaime at least. Roy falls for Jaime all over again somehow, but what happens when Roy gets his memory back at the most random moment and has to deal with how he treated Jaime during his amnesia?

Roy being in a horrific car accident. He suffers a lot of injuries, the worst be a skull fracture and Jamie has been told that the Roy that comes back might not be his Roy. Jamie is prepared for a lot things, had read up on speech issues and everything they told him about....but he isn't ready for the pain of Roy freaking out and going "what the fuck is this prick doing here? Come to cheers my almost death?", and when his sister gently reminds Roy that they're married, Roy freaks out even more.

They run some tests and it turns out Roy has amnesia. He thinks he's still playing for Richmond and is captain. He's no memory of Jamie being trade to City and back or of coaching or anything. Roy is frustrated and angry, not particularly at Jamie, but at his brain and because Jamie is there.....he takes it out on Jamie a lot. Jamie just grins and bares it because this is Roy, his Roy, his husband andnlove and he will not give up on him.

Everyone is careful with him. The doctors advised that triggering memory's on purpose could be dangerous so they have to wait but Pheobe is sick of seeing her Uncle Roy so angry and her Uncle Jamie so sad when they've been so happy together for the last few years. So she sits down with Roy and shows him everything. Videos of their wedding. Pictures of them. And then shows him that they'd recently been approved to adopt and it breaks Roy

He starts being softer with Jamie, explaining that "I don't remember why I fell for you, but I can see it. I see you" and when he hugs Jamie, Jamie clings to him and whispers "its okay, it's okay if you never remember, we can make new memories".

They take it one day at a time after that. Roy tries to be romantic. He's a bit skittish of kissing and touching but they take it slow and then he starts to remember. He remembers bits and pieces and then one day he's sitting with Jamie, just watching a movie and he whispers "I told yoy you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and that if I fucked this up to cut my balls off in my wedding vows" and then he's crying because "I'm sorry. I failed you, I failed us" while Jamie just holds him and tries not to cry because he has his Roy back....but at what cost

[the-firebird69]

They're leaving territory and they're going to the rivers in the middle areas and the Delta region at this time we are getting reports of large clouds gathering and leaving and they're gathering up equipment and they say there's no resistance but it's not true a lot of it is disappearing now and they're trying to go after it and getting mowed down he'll probably come out of there with about 1/8 of what was there and about one half of what they think is there so it will be fine and they're going to the river region and the Delta region the full equipment out and diamonds down below they are using the diamonds no the equipment as an excuse to keep the peace they are going down there now and a lot of them you mentioned a number before it was pretty high about 15% and it is going up believe it or not it was up to 12% this morning but that's 50% of everybody out there that's a lot

--it seems to be more oxygen out here last night this morning and today and there is it's kind of coming pouring in from the south and it is significant it is a pile of oxygen that's a large amount of it coming from the LG that's more coming in later today and it is coming from other sources and it's coming from the East Coast a lot of it it's a huge amount and it's going to be coming pretty fast but really it's still inching up there but this is a lot of air and most of it is coming from the Gulf stream from the east from the Atlantic and it's pouring in pretty soon the oxygen levels are going to go up everywhere but he was outside only briefly yesterday and last night had only the large valence window open a little and got an oxygenated so we're not really sure how you didn't have a ton of iron and had a good amount but it's going off probably to about 20 at night 18 during the day and it's pretty steady it's very helpful

Thor Freya

I'm praying for him everyday and it's horrible here it's really getting harsh but he says it's big change and I get that so I'm looking at it and I feel better. And this huge change is coming up after the storm he said it might take a few of them for people to start dropping at the level of the time but he said also he thinks that he passes away from the movie troll and it's driven it really is going to do it not do your job instead of wedding so go away and do something else and suffer the consequences of being a lazy s*** it doesn't do the work because it's stuffed up from threats it doesn't work that way and really we remember what you were saying so tough s*** go f*** off and die. There's a huge number of people that don't get that. We get it. We don't care for our hotel it's a big a****** and the trunks just get to them it's not our fault you're not our kind it's a really get a life you don't want to have an acne as s*** he needs money it's all water over the dam he says. And yeah you are a prick but you said goodbye so you know enjoy it but really I think he's right it's going to be after a few rounds and for some reason he's going after Bill to get bigger and his people and he follows Dan Dave. And Trump then goes out there and they actually defeat him for the most part he has to come back but we don't think he makes it we don't think he gets out of the grave

Hera

Maybe stupid to say but these two have had it with us those that are out of control and we agree we shouldn't be doing it and he says we're driven to it and let the religions doesn't really apply directly to the same effect so he and his wife as it does to other things starting to see it's probably correct it's too late for a lot of people and you saying that we're kind of doomed and that I know the rules and I know that if you're beyond the perimeter you're in trouble and we did that so I'm screwing up and we know it and we're lazy and we're slow and we're not recovering and I don't really want to get hurt and I don't want to die forever some people are saying I turned mean and stuff and to say they don't really care for it either but other people are doing it and they can't stop them either Its pretty pitiful. Since you'll never be putting this position and we keep doing it but really Trump and Tommy ever want to go yet and they're going to get crushed eventually. It is not greed he went after Tommy f but really Tommy f was robbing and blind the whole thing started because they slowed down in industry but there were forced out and they didn't depend it and he just said they're blaming everybody else it was horrible thinking that our friend here would stop at somehow so that Laney him and he's like what are you talking about that's disgusting so he started taking stuff and it's really easy you said it won't fight everybody fights then they leave to take everything hahaha. That's great

Uncle Phil

We have a lot of data that says a whole bunch of people die and it's snare for a while empty and then everything disappears

Mac Daddy

Yeah we have that dinner too and we can't hold it either

Macs

Olympus what's in a hole here just leave you abandon it

[milkb0nny]

May I request a smut scenario about Jake x fem reader first time? Thanks! 👉🏻👈🏻

Sure! I usually don't write smut, especially because I think I'm not really familiar with stuff like that (I don't read any lewd fanfics >^<) but I'll definitely try my best! 🌼�� It won't be too hardcore tho.

Didn't proofread it c': hope there aren't many typos. I made headcanons because when it's about lewd stuff I don't feel comfortable writing full scenarios. I hope it's still okay.

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡

𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗝𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗺 +:｡.｡

webtoon lookism: Jake Kim

warnings: lewd schmexy time

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡

🍈 Jake gives you a lot of time to feel comfortable around him first. Don't expect your first time to be the first ever contact to sexual things. It's gonna be a long process; some months of discovering the others body and appreciating sweet spots. Jake wants to know your boundaries well enough before anything happens which you'll regret.

🍈 You both didn't plan the first time either. Some couples may sense it coming up but with you and Jake it was so spontaneous. He couldn't really hold back after you spent the day on the beach. He wanted you, badly. Please don't imagine Jake as a beast though. When it's about intimate things like sex, he's soft and caring. His urges to love and make you feel good are a constant thing in his head though.

🍈 It will start with the usual make-out. It's evening, you both already ate something heart-warming and took a shower. You originally wanted to watch a movie but the eyes for another pay no attention to the TV. He will hug you tightly from behind as he spoons you. Sensing your fresh smell from the shower and your soft bum makes him needy and you shortly notice something coming up down there.

🍈 Jake definitely is really loving and he won't dare to hurt you. Even if you wanted it, his heart would ache in pain and suffering. He doesn't want to harm you and he thinks if you'd enjoy pain, he were to take you to a therapist. He really cares about your mental state and for him degrading or spanking you only hurts this man. He wants to adore you.

🍈 Speaking of adoration; expect a lot of praises and compliments from him. Especially the first time should be a sensual memory for the further future. He'll call you mine and gets possessive over you. Don't mix that up with the toxic trait, Jake really only means good things to you. He'll appreciate your insecurities. For example when you have a mole on your inner tight, he gently kisses it and tells you how beautiful it is to him. Don't even dare thinking he's lying - in his eyes you're a goddess and every inch of your golden body deserves love.

🍈 definitely the dominant part, unless you feel comfortable in taking over. He wouldn't mind because your wishes matter to him and your pleasure means a lot too. Your satisfaction goes first for him though. He'll take all the time for you even if it means the whole night. He wants you in every gorgeous way there is and he doesn't want to miss a detail.

🍈 Surely gets aroused by your noises and soft voice. Don't be shy to make some sounds. You have no reason to feel shy or embarrassed. Jake will feel happy and aroused when you let yourself totally go under his care. He's very loving and won't even dare to bruise your legs; except for some hickeys. He wants to mark you as his girl.

🍈 He'll be very slow and worried at first. Once you're used to it and you give him signs it's okay to continue, he loosens up and gets a little more pace. He's not the fastest man out there. He wants to share time with you and not to instantly come. He has a lot of stamina, which is no surprise, and he'll use it for you. Jake also thinks going too energetic on the first ever night would make you feel overwhelmed. From previous experience he's aware overwhelming about the first time can cause some emotional distress.

🍈 He's the softest guy when it's about aftercare. Even while doing it he will ask if you're okay, if you're thirsty, if you need a break, if you need to pee, if you feel emotionally stable and and and. He's a dream to have as boyfriend. After you're done, he makes sure you go pee. You shouldn't get an infection. While you're in the bathroom, he'll change the sheets quickly and cuts some fruits as snacks.

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡

[moemammon]

When I was in High School, my crush and I got into a fight and neither of us were talking to each other. One day I was headed up the stairwell to get to my science class, when I saw them coming up from behind... I don't think they had even noticed me yet considering that they were busy talking to their friend BUT I am slow going up stairs so even if I rushed up the stairs roadrunner style they would have caught up to me, well; the little corner that connects the steps going up to the second floor and the steps heading down to the ground floor had a large open window... and I jumped out, like I literally just jumped out. I didn't even think it through, I just saw the window and my body was like "Yep, IK what to do." I landed on a bush or tree? It's too big to call a bush but too small to call a tree, landed in a squat before my feet gave out and I fall onto my knees and got two large grass stains on my jeans knee part, couldn't walk right either after that landing, I was shaky all day lol but it was a risk well calculated bc the whole thing would have been so awkward. I mean we used to be like BFFS before the rumors began and then they started and we just stopped talking without warning, we couldn't even look at each other. Our science partners, bc we were in groups of four, literally got fed up of our bullshit bc we literally refused to acknowledge the others existence... anyway, I digress...

Anyway, this whole story is a long winded way of me requesting how the brothers would react to an MC that literally just jumps out windows to avoid awkward moments, or to dodge people that want to ask them for favors, or when they straight up want to avoid someone?

And sorry about the large ass message, but thanks for letting me vent

You have a special place in my heart, window-jumping anon. Just uhhhhhhh look down next time okay? Ily

The Demon Brothers react to GN!MC jumping out of a window to avoid an awkward moment

(Mario jumping sound effect)

Lucifer

He approached you after class to ask exactly what you were snickering at your D.D.D. about during class.

Must've been real funny if you weren't listening to your lecture, huh?

"I imagine you've somehow found something worthy of laughing about in Demonology 101?"

You do not have the guts to tell him that you and Mammon were texting back and forth, abusing a new photo editing app to alter pictures of the eldest himself.

I mean, take a wild guess about how he’d react to seeing how big you edited his head to be-

The avatar of pride lets his eyes pierce into you, like he's trying to stare a hole through your blanket of "uh"s and "um"s,

You don't exactly see a way out of this one, but you can NOT let Lucifer see your photo gallery.

So you glance to your left to the open classroom window, and do the only thing you can think of: you jump.

Luckily you're on the ground floor so you??? really didn't have to jump so dramatically. But the fact that you yeeted yourself into a bush JUST to escape has left Lucifer speechless.

Honestly? He so impressed with your dedication that he's not gonna stop you. Besides, he's gonna see you back at home anyway so-

Also thinks you might be hanging around Mammon too much because that 100% seems like a stunt he’d pull.

Mammon

GIVE GOLDIE BACK RIGHT NOW

He KNOWS Lucifer told you to bring the credit card to him, and he demands to know where it's hidden! He's positive you know where it is!

But you don't really though?? You just brought the card to him like you were asked. If anything, you're the victim here!

But Mammon isn't having that. The avatar of greed is circling around you like an angry cat, patting you all over like airport security to see if you've got his beloved card.

"Where is it, huh?! Ya really think you can steal from THE Mammon?! Even if Lucifer told ya to, who do ya think you are?!"

When he has confirmed that you don't in fact have his previous Goldie, he's now cornering you up against a wall.

If looks could kill, you would've exploded into a fine powder

And you feel like your mental strength is about to do just that. So what do you do after you notices the slightest of breezes caress your face?

You jump outta that open window, before Mammon can even finish his "Wh- Oi! What're ya-"

Even though you just face planted into the garden, you're up on your feet and making a mad dash for somewhere that wasn't here.

Mammon lets you run for ten while seconds before he's hopping out after you. You think you can outfox the Great Mammon?! Think again!!!

Levi

You... weren't interested in this movie in the slightest, but you didn't have the heart to tell Levi that. Especially not after he’d begged/harassed you for the past week about watching it with him!

Reluctantly you agreed, and now you were suffering,,,But Levi was ecstatic! This movie was a classic! Sure it was an old one and the acting was a little bad, but you could overlook that if you watched it with your heart, not your eyes!

According to Levi.

You managed to keep your eyes open for the grueling one and a half hour movie, enduring every corny line of bad acting, horrible CGI, and lame sound effects straight out of a 90s super hero movie, and now the hell was finally over...

Or so you though, until Levi followed that up by immediately pulling out a cosplay outfit worn by one of the supporting characters in the show.

Funny how it seemed specifically tailored to your measurements. Even funnier how Levi was looking at you with those damned eyes.

You knew what he wanted without him even having to say it. But one look at the gaudy outfit he presented to you made your heart burn with a sudden indescribable urge.... to escape.

Honestly you caught him so off guard by suddenly getting up and sprinting out of the room, that he makes a sound that's pretty much the noise equivalent of "?!?!?!?!?!?"

He watches you run down to the end of the hall, throw the window open, and fuckin JUMP. Pretty sure he just witnessed your death??

Also this kinda solidified his 'gross otaku' mentality, seeing as you literally jumped out of a window to get out of cosplaying with him. A simple no would've sufficed, MC.......,.,,..,,,

Hey gamers... can we get an F in the chat? 😔✌️💦

Satan

Satan lent you a book to read last week that he was sure you'd be interested in! He found it pretty interesting himself, so he wants to see if you'd like it as much as he did.

That being said, you don't have the heart to tell him that you,,, didn't read any of it. Well you kind of did, if the cover counts for anything.

You doubt he would accept that as an answer, considering how you told him how much you appreciated receiving the book, and how you'd definitely read it and let him know how it was.

So now, Satan had come into your room with two cups of tea, ready to settle down and have a nice, long talk about your thoughts on the riveting plot that you promised you would indulge in.

"I'm really glad you decided to read it. I found that the protagonist reminded me a lot like you. I'd like to know what you thought about it."

Satan sets down the tea cups, and one sip tells you that he brewed it exactly the way you like.

His expression is eager and warm as he waits for you to begin gushing about just how deeply the story touched you... how absolutely moved you are by the sheer majesty that was the book he lent you...

Okay yeah, you're sweating bullets. You can't imagine how the sparkly eyed avatar of wrath would react to learning that you chose the company of your D.D.D. over Satan's book.

You don't have such an ice cold hard that you can just crush this book nerds dreams like that! And every time you look at his expectant face, the weight of your crimes weigh heavier on you until... you break.

Satan watches in shock and awe as you almost perfectly reenact the big scene where the main character leaps out of the window of a building rigged to explode, before making their escape. And you did just that.

Wow.. he never thought you could be so moved by a story, but he completely understands...

Asmo

How many outfits, Asmo. HOW MANY OUTFTITS WILL IT TAKE TO APPEASE YOU?

He's made you model TWELVE outfits so far, and you swear if you see another ascot, you're gonna lose your mind.

Asmodeus doesn't seem to notice the way the light slowly fades from your eyes, because he's pulling out outfit number thirteen with that cheery smile of his.

"Isn't this one absolutely adorable? Look, this part will look lovely around your waist! This part here hugs your body in all the right places, and this-"

You can't do it. You've gotta get out of here. You'd love to stand around and get mild rug burn from trying on a billion different clothes, but-

Actually no you wouldn't.

You DID promise Asmo you'd hang out with him today, but this wasn't really your idea of a good time.

"-Oooh, just thinking about it makes me want to eat you up~! Here, put it on for me, will you? I'll give you a kiss as a reward!"

You would do no such thing.

You make a mad dash for his ornate window and push it open. He has no time to stop you as he helplessly watches you vault yourself out like the room was on fire.

"MC?! Wh-where are you going?? Come back here! Grass stains are impossible to get out of that fabric!!!"

Beel

He means well. I swear he does. It's just that Beel can be a little... overbearing when he's worried about you. He cares, okay?

But he hasn't seen you eat anything all day! You tell him it's because you've got a stomach ache from who knows what, and you promise you've had little snacks here and there to keep from starving, but he can't accept that!

Eating is important, and you need it to survive. So Beelzebub was currently trying to nudge your mouth open with a pizza slice, while you vehemently refused. "Just one bite. And then another after that. You have to eat, or you'll go hungry... and I don't want that."

Beel knows the true pain of being hungry, and he’d never wish that on you! So just forget about your stomach ache for two seconds and open up-

Not that you really can. The aroma of that pizza was not sitting well on your stomach, and you were pretty sure you needed a fast escape or you'd risk losing your lunch. Greasy foods didn't exactly mix well with sour stomachs...

Beel still won't let up. He has a strong hand planted firmly on the small of your back, as if trying to prevent you from leaning back any further in your attempt to escape the pizza.

"If you eat this, I'll treat you to dessert at Madam Screams," he says, as if bribing your refusal of food USING food will somehow work out.

You can't break his heart, but you seriously can't eat that! Your head is spinning, thoughts racing, face becoming greasier and greasier from the pizza pressed against it, and-

You snap. In a sudden burst of strength you break free from Beel's grasp, and sprint toward the nearest window. All you see is your chance for freedom, and you're taking it.

You leap out and tumble into the ground, all while Beelzebub wonders what?? Just happened???? Did you really hate pizza that much...?

He never knew you were such a picky eater... To think you'd go so far as to jump out of the window though...

Belphie

You thought it was cute at first, when Belphegor wanted you to join him for his naps. And you didn't mind much. It was the weekend, you were tired, and he makes a pretty good body pillow.

But you didn't realize he planned for this to become an everyday thing. The youngest might not act it, but he sure could be spoiled.

But seriously, if you slept any longer, you might never have a normal sleep schedule again! It never occurred to you just how often Belphie sleeps.

He's definitely not human, because there's no way you can keep up with that, and maintain a normal lifestyle.

But the way he quietly, gently grabs your sleeve to cue your next nap session makes your heart clench. Why was it so damned hard to say no to this gremlin??

You were trying your best though, but the words always seemed to get caught in your throat. Belphie picked apart your excuses, doing everything in his power to take you back to the attic.

"You can study when you wake up." "Mammon wants to go shopping? Reschedule." "Lucifer told you not to be late to the board meeting? Just hide."

You're starting to get sucked into the sleepy lull of his voice, and it feels like your entire body is becoming heavy with fatigue. But no.... you resist!

Since there's no escaping this through words, you have to think fast. Fortunately, your fast thinking has led to an amazing solution!

Jump out of the window, baby

Belphie is just??? Did you fuckin???? Are your legs okay??????????????

He probably stops asking you to nap with him for a while, since you're willing to almost break your legs just to get out of it. You're gonna make him have weird dreams....

[sparkiekong]

Kong's Halloween Review

31 days of Spooky movies... reviewed so you don't have to! I did this once before, but I'll give ya the reasoning. Before 2012 I was terrified of scary movies. Wouldn't watch any of em but then 2012 hit with some medical things and it sort of broke that fear of scary movies.

Rated 0-10 and can go into the negatives for the following:

Kid Death

Animal Death

Preachy

Making fun of a group type

Boring me

The Rule of 20 also applies. I give the movie 20 minutes to interest me, if it doesn't.. I move on because it likely will never catch my interest.

Also you can pre-screen movies on your own by using this website:

It covers more than just dog death and hits upon many different emotional triggers. Also if you are a member of the website you can add things and also suggest new triggers that will be voted for and provided they get enough up votes, added to the list of things to screen for.

Below are the first 14 movies in no particular order. When I get the rest done I will reblog and post the later half with my best picks from the 31.

Hellraiser 2022

Decent reboot but will never replace the old ones. Lots of body mod/horror involved filled with blood and gore filled. Wouldn’t be a Hellraiser without it. No animal slaughters, no kid slaughter. 5/10 Spoops and 3 bonus for not being cheap and using the trope of animal/kid deaths to make something scary.

Grand Total: 8

--

Grimcutty

Not bad… an interesting take on parenting kids who grew up on the internet… No animal slaughters, but some kid damage. 6/10 spoops +1 for no animal tropes -1 kid tropes. Since kids were kind of central to the whole story…

Grand Total: 6

--

Jessabelle

Really surprisingly good for a pg-13 scary movie. However, it’s got some depression, some kid killing in it. Pretty decent twist at the end. Some sacrificial animal deaths too. 7/10 spoops +1 for how scary the entity was portrayed, -1 for animal death visuals, and -1 for kid murder tropes. The kid death was kind of crucial to the plot, BUT You don’t have to kill animals to be scary!  

Grand Total: 6

--

The Accursed

I think this one suffers from my lack of knowledge on gypsy culture. It had some tense moments, some creepy things…it was good, but I didn’t quite get all the references. I understood the plot and I knew what was happening, but I think I would have enjoyed it more if I’d had some exposure to gypsy culture. 6/10 spoops. +1 for no kid/ -1 animal slaughter.

Grand Total: 6

--

The Cursed

I didn’t get 15 minutes in. Don’t bother. 0/10 spoops. -3 for not getting my attention fast enough.

Grand Total: -3

--

The Last Rite

23 minutes in and I’m bored. I have no idea when the demon is supposed to start plaguing her, but it certainly isn’t interesting enough for me to keep watching. 0/10 spoops. -3 for not getting my attention +1 for boring me to death.

Grand Total: -2

--

Lights Out

Holy cow, by the description… I expected a shitshow, but it was good. 8/10 spoops… though I think it was more a thriller suspense than spoops. +2 for the final girl who’s got one heck of a scream. It was a chilling, but somewhat sad story. +2 for no animal/kid slaughtering tropes. 12/10

Grand Total:  12

--

The Vigil

15 minutes in and I’m bored. I wanted to like it; but no spoops were hinted at… so I have none to give. No spoops for you. 0/10 -3 for not getting my attention.

Grand Total: -3

--

Wish Upon

20 minutes in and there’s graphic dog death. 0/10 spoops. It had no spoops and negative spoops for using an unnecessary trope. -3 for the doggy death and -2 for making it graphic.

Grand Total: -5

--

Room 203

Classic moving into a haunted place theme. Some Celtic lore, bit of some dark subject matter in some places, but otherwise a solid good spoopy vibe. 5/10 spoops, +2 for no animal/kid slaughter tropes.

Grand Total: 7

--

You are Not My Mother

This one was a slow simmer all the way through, good creep factor. Interesting take on Celtic lore, but really wasn’t spoopy all that much. 5/10 spoops. -2 for implied child death, +3 for [redacted spoiler], and +1 for a new take on an old monster.

Grand Total: 7

--

Lantern’s Lane

Standard college urban legend vibes… saw the plot coming a mile away. Bad acting, but… it’s sort of campy in an old school 80s vibe. 5/10 +3 for the vibe.

Grand Total: 6

--

Possessor: Uncut

Highly disturbing movie. Lots of body horror and I just didn’t quite know what was going on. I was more disturbed than anything. Not my cup of tea… 0/10 spoops. No bonus or negatives. There were no animal kills though. It's really hard to see a positive to this movie at all! -5 for kid death. It really was terrible and disturbing.

Grand Total: -5

--

See for Me

Thriller type spoopy movie. 0/10 spoops… It wasn’t all that thrill/spoop… +2 for no animal/kid death.

Grand Total: 2

--

[bts-hyperfixation]

I Dream Of Jinnie

Kinktober Day 10 - Seokjin/Edging

Warnings: Sub!Jin, Discussion of Kinks, Edging. Y/N is a genie

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up here… Most people would assume a sleepover with their best friend meant popcorn, cuddles, and a movie. Not your best friend. Seokjin decided your friendship had gone on too long to not have a more in-depth knowledge of one another’s kinks. And what better way to do that than by watching porn.

You could think of a few better ways actually, and they all involved alcohol. Sadly, tonight did not. It’s not that you were a prude, far from it in fact. You just didn’t fancy listening to every sexual fantasy Jin had, especially when he was so often the main character in yours. You would much rather suffer through the next hour of sexual frustration than admit that to him though.

“Doesn’t this look like a lot of fun?” He says as you watch a man get teased. The girl he was with must have worked him up to the edge three or four times by now. Honestly, the poor guy looked like he needed a break and cuddle. But then your mind ran away with the idea of Jin’s face all scrunched up as he was denied release over and over and you could feel yourself coming around to the idea. You shake the thought away and swallow thickly.

“You’d really want to be tied up like that? Effectively be tortured for an hour or two?” You ask, not sure you want the visual that accompanies the answer.

“Are you kidding? I wish a girl would do that to me.”

“Ah fu…” Your body starts moving automatically. Your arms fold and eyes blink and suddenly you are no longer in Jin’s bedroom. 

Instead you stand in the garishly decorated round room that was your lamp. Before you even get a chance to explain, Jin is screaming. He pulls at the ties securing his wrists, only succeeding in making them tighter. You reach for a blanket to secure around his naked waist, blushing furiously after seeing the size of him.

“Jin…. JIN!” You yell quieting him down. “Jin it’s fine. You’re safe.”

“How the hell are we safe? Can you see a door? How did I get tied to a bed? Where the fuck are we? Why aren’t you tied up? Are you kidnapping me?” He starts to scream again, and you can’t help magicking his mouth shut for a moment.

“Let me explain and stop wriggling or the blanket will fall down.” He does as you say, and you reach down to pat his head. “Good master.” You hit your forehead at the slip. For months you’d managed to avoid him finding out he was in control of your powers. It was harder to stop calling someone master during a wish.

His eyes went wide at the name. You could see him trying to put pieces of his current predicament together, it would be endearing if he didn’t look like he was working himself up again.

“Okay, quickfire. I’m a genie. You’re my master. I don’t know if you remember when we met, in that market when you guys play Saudi Arabia?” He nods in understanding, his expression still a betrayal of his distress. “You picked up a lamp, my lamp, this lamp.” You gesture around you and he takes in the room properly. “You made a wish; I am supposed to now fulfil that wish.” You remove the charm on his lips to allow for his response.

“I didn’t mean to make a wish… I don’t… I didn’t. That was a really bad wish.” His concerns seem to have shifted. He motions down at his naked form and then his brain must catch up with the rest of the information. “Wait? Does this mean I’m forcing you to do this? I don’t want to force you to do anything with me, especially not something like this. How do I unwish it.” You sit by his side, softly stroking the skin of his arm. The longer you wait to enact the wish the harder it gets to resist. Touching him allows you to slow down.

“You can’t unwish something, you can only make another wish. But that would be a terrible waste of a wish. I’m sorry master, this is my fault. I’m supposed to introduce myself, grant three wishes, and *poof* next master. If you want it to stop all you have to do is wish it.” You inform him.

“What if I don’t want it to stop? Do you want me to stop it?” You think on it, truly thinking about whether the wish was pushing you, or whether the heat rising in your stomach at the thought of torturing the idol was your own.

“I don’t want you to stop it, master.”

“Stop calling me master…”

“What do you want me to call you, master?” You cringe as the formality slips out again.

“Jinnie, baby, good boy, honey. Any term of endearment you like.” His voice breaks halfway through the sentence.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to wish us out of here Jinnie? We can never mention it again?” You reassure him.

“I’m sure.” He nods. Your stomach jumps and you can no longer stop your body from enacting his wish. You whip away the blanket and straddle his waist. His hips try to grind up into you as you lean down to kiss along his collarbones.

“Already so impatient baby. You are not going to come out of this well if you can’t even wait five minutes for me to warm you up.” He whimpers as you push back against him, forcing his bum flat against the bed. You rock back and forth a little as you mark his chest, each bite shining red. You don’t stop until it looks like a constellation of stars across his previously perfect skin. His cock strains underneath you, precum forming a wet patch on your sweats. A problem you could easily fix. Settling back on your heels you give the man a show. First, your shirt comes off, then your bra. You stand to take your pants off, giving him the view of a lifetime.

He licks his lips as your panties cum off, hands instinctively fighting against the restraints he had been placed in. You lean over him, hands on the wall, putting yourself on display for him. Eyes hungrily rove over you; a man has never looked like he fucked up more than Jin right now.

With a sadistic giggle, you crouch back down, further back this time. You push your hands up his legs, stretching yourself out between his legs. Arse in the air as your mouth got closer to his dick. He shudders as you blow on the damp tip. Nails dig into the juicy flesh of his thighs as you tease. It’s almost too easy. Each small movement makes him jump in anticipation. You lick carefully along the length before bringing in a hand to help you hold him steady. You don’t get a chance to take him into your mouth before he is crying out.

“Please” His voice is high and whiny.

“Please what honey?” You purposefully chose the breathiest nickname as you linger close to his slit.

“Please, just please.”

“Begging already? This really isn’t going to last very long at all.” Tutting in fake disappointment, you drop his cock. “I thought this was your wildest fantasy Jinnie, what happened?” You crawl back up his body to be face to face. He pushes his neck up as far as he can.

“Please kiss me.” The request takes you by surprise. Any other time you had performed sexual domination wishes no one had ever asked for a kiss. It takes a minute for you to digest it and what it might mean to you, but it’s too late now to think about that. You oblige. It starts with a peck, then two, then his tongue is dragging against your lips every time you lean in.

You’re grinding on him more for you own pleasure than his now. Dragging your hips back and forth, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips with each motion. So absorbed in the kiss, you don’t notice the way he tenses. But the wish does, and it’s not fulfilled yet. You’re compelled to stop immediately, making him groan as his orgasm disappears.

“Sorry baby, I’m just giving you what you asked for.” You mumble apologetically as you kiss along his jaw, although you’re not sure you’re actually all that sad about it.

“Please keep going.” He says through gritted teeth. And who are you to refuse him? Your nails scratch down his torso as you return to your position between his legs. This time you don’t tease. Immediately you see how far you can take him, making it about two thirds before you really start to struggle. Using your right hand, you pump the remainder of the length. Every so often you can feel all of his muscles tense. Your left-hand holds his hips in place as you drag your tongue along his slit. This time you can feel him getting close and pull off just before it’s too late.

He practically screams as you squeeze hard at the base of his cock. The following whimpers are too pretty for you to ignore. It’s like your drawn back to his lips by the siren’s call. You swallow the sounds as they come, waiting for him to calm down just enough for you to keep going. He is starting to lose it a little now, incoherent mumbles against your lips as he sloppily tries to keep pace with you.

“Such a good boy for me.” Pushing the hair away, you press a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead. “Let’s see if you can take it if you have all of me.” You reach back and line him up to your entrance. You have to take it slow from the lack of preparation, but its just adds to his torture, and from this vantage point you can see every crease on his face as he tries to focus on not enjoying the feeling too much. It burns as you reach the last inch or so. The width of him making you feel full in the best way.

You pull up before you can reach the hilt, restarting the entire motion, kissing all over his face as he groans and writhes underneath you. You increase the pace, focusing as much on his pleasure as you can.

“Y/N?” Jin is practically panting. “Please, no more.”

“Just one more time Jinnie, so close. Such a good boy for me.” You can se the way his abs start to tighten, and you cease all movement. He is sobbing now, so pretty covered in tears. You wipe them away and give him a longer respite period. He can just about breath again when you start rocking back and forth.

“Ready to finish Jinnie?” He nods tiredly, but before you can speed up he calls out.

“Wait… have you finished?” You’re confused, this was supposed to be about him. “I want you to finish around me? Can you?”  He looks like a puppy as he blinks up at you and stumbles over his words.

“Yeah, I can. I just wanted to focus on ruining you… That was your wish” You sit up properly, bracing your hands on his chest.

“Please, pretty please. I wanna feel it, feel you.” You change the angle, aiming your clit for his pubic mound with every forward motion. More for you than him, each move is calculated for pleasure. One hand digs into his chest as the other finds its way between your legs, you toss your head back as your end nears, your entire body tensing around him finishes Jin along with you.

You fall onto his chest, cautious of moving your hips too much while he is too sensitive.

“Are you okay mas… Jin?” All he can manage is a thumbs up and you can’t help but laugh at him.

You dismount Jin carefully and lie down next to him. Twitching your nose takes care of the remnants of sex disappear, sweat and semen evaporated into the ether.

“Why aren’t I that tired?” Jin asks snuggling into your side when he is all clean.

“Magic does wonders for fatigue, not so much for the emotional baggage though I’m afraid Jinnie.” You wrap him into your embrace and press your lips to his forehead.

“Can I ask… Why does it look like Arabian nights in here? It’s not exactly your style.” He said glancing around at the ornate tapestries and abundance of pillows.

“My old master liked the cliché.”

“Can’t you change it?”

“Not without my master's approval.” You shrug.

“Well then change it”

“How would you like me to change it?”

“However you want to change it, how have you always wanted it to look?” You think for a second before whirling the furniture around you. The room becomes a much better reflection of you. Toned down colours and real wood. Books and papers scattered around. Artworks that you’d seen over the millennia and always wanted to own prints of. It was a lot cosier now, much more sorted to cuddles and calming down. A fluffy blanket materialises and cuddles Jin in even closer.

“Can I free you?”

“Outside of wishing it? There are rumours of other ways but none I could prove.”

“So I could wish you free and we could be together?” He asks hopefully.

“Not without you becoming trapped in the bottle.” You chuckle at the thought. “But that doesn’t matter because we are together now, I’m with you until you make your third wish.”

“Then I am never making that last wish!” He mutters craning his neck to kiss you properly.

Kinktober Masterlist 2021

Masterlist