#just need to figure out what things would actually be useful for me to work on right this minute and then how to start them.

[icaruspendragon]

At last, wars will be over and the fkin "democrats" will not pump people's money into other country's war just so they can watch from far away and play makeshift god. GO TRUMP GO COMMON SENSE FUCK LIBERALS

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

DEAN and BOBBY are seated on tables, swinging their legs and looking bored.

DEAN
You sure you did the ritual right?
(BOBBY gives him a look)
Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?

As if on cue, a loud rattling shakes the roof. DEAN and BOBBY arm themselves with shotguns and take positions at the far end of the warehouse.

DEAN
Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.

The door bursts open and a handsome man in a business suit and trenchcoat stalks in CASTIEL.

The light bulbs above his head shatter in a shower of sparks as he passes them. As he approaches, DEAN and BOBBY both open fire, but the shots do not even slow him down. Dean takes the MAGIC KNIFE as CASTIEL gets close.

DEAN
Who are you?

CASTIEL
I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. 

DEAN
Yeah. Thanks for that. 

DEAN rears back and plunges the MAGIC KNIFE into CASTIEL'S chest and hits heart without any effects. CASTIEL looks down, unconcerned, and pulls it out, drops it to the floor. Behind him, BOBBY attacks; without looking, CASTIEL grabs BOBBY'S weapon and uses it to swing him around. CASTIEL touches BOBBY on the forehead with fingertips and BOBBY crumples to the ground.

CASTIEL
We need to talk, Dean. Alone. 


END ACT FOUR

ACT FIVE

DEAN crouches over BOBBY, checking his pulse. He glares at CASTIEL. 

CASTIEL
Your friend's alive. 

DEAN
Who are you?

CASTIEL
Castiel.

DEAN
Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?

CASTIEL
I'm an Angel of the Lord. 

DEAN
Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing. 

CASTIEL
This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith. 

Lightning flashes, and on CASTIEL'S back great shadowy wings appear, stretching off into the distance. The light goes out and the image disappears. 

DEAN
Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes. 

CASTIEL
I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that. 

DEAN
You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking? (CASTIEL nods.) Buddy, next time, lower the volume. 

CASTIEL
That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.

DEAN
And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?

CASTIEL
This? This is... a vessel. 

DEAN
You're possessing some poor bastard?

CASTIEL
He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this. 

DEAN
Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?

CASTIEL
(frowning) I told you.

DEAN
Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?

CASTIEL
Good things do happen, Dean. 

DEAN
Not in my experience. 

CASTIEL
What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?

DEAN
Why'd you do it?

CASTIEL
Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 14

Warning: Cringe texting

Summary: ^

Notes: I love you guys but I’m lazy for formatting don’t hate me (it’s better on ao3)

Word count: 1,204

ao3 link

Several things were becoming abundantly clear to you.

One, you wanted to fuck Ghost.

Two, Ghost knew this.

Three, he thought he had it in the bag. And that, you took issue with. You were going to fuck him, but you wanted him to work for it; you wanted him to be down on his knees begging.

How exactly you were going to achieve this, you hadn’t quite figured out yet. All you knew for sure was that your ego needed a little more flattering and that Ghost’s needed to be taken down a peg.

You had some vague plans, and one of them had come into motion the second you got a text on your phone from the man himself, when you’d woken up for the second time on Sunday, having already had one rude awakening.

‘Unknown Number: New number. Know you missed texting me. ;-)’

Thank God he hadn’t seen the desperation in your texts on his last phone. This was a chance for a clean slate.

‘You: How’s the photo capabilities on your new phone?’

‘Ghost: Dirty bird. I’ll upgrade.’

‘You: For pictures of Soap and Roach you pervert.’

‘Ghost: Sure love.’

God the man was smug. Although, the mere idea of pictures from you had him buying a whole new phone? He wasn’t shy about his desire for you. Not to mention, it hadn’t even been half a day since he’d left your home, and he’d already sent you a text from his new phone? He was definitely down bad. And you were going to take advantage of that. But, for now, you were going to play it cool.

‘You: Anywaysss! How did the medical go?’

‘Ghost: Fit as a butchers dog.’

‘You: ? Are butcher's dogs especially healthy?’

‘Ghost: Ours was. :-)’

That was new.

‘You: You were a butcher?’

‘Ghost: Was a butcher's apprentice before I joined the military.’

You wondered if that was around the time he’d taken the picture for his drivers licence. Simon Riley the butcher. Well, he could keep the moniker; you imagine he did just as much butchering.

‘Ghost: I can show you how to properly handle meat. ;-)’

Of course. However, there was something cute about the fact that he’d sent you another text after you hadn’t replied for a mere minute. Did he even know what double texting was? You doubted that; he didn’t even seem to know how to use emojis. It was fun to go back to a pre-emoji time, like a throwback to your early teen years.

‘You: Yeah, I bet you’re a master at handling meat. Twat.’

‘Ghost: Happy to show you. ;-)’

‘You: In your dreams.’

‘Ghost: Yes. :-)’

You needed to stop. Either he was masterful at drawing you into playful banter, or you were easy. Regardless, you actually had things to do today, so you couldn’t spend all day flirting with Ghost over text.

‘You: I’ve got to get ready to go out. Talk to you later.’

‘Ghost: Think of me. ;-)’

Incorrigible.

Now, it was time for the second part of your first plan. Today, you were meeting the girls in town for a little window shopping and coffee, which gave you a convenient excuse to get dressed up, and you thought you knew who would appreciate a picture of your outfit. You spent far longer than usual picking out your clothes, trying to find the perfect mix of slutty enough to tease him but not slutty enough that your friends would notice. It was a hard bargain.

You figured it out pretty quickly. You could wear a mini skirt if you just stuck a jumper and a big jacket over it. You put your hair up in a bun that took a deceptively long amount of time to look like you’d just thrown it up, with you having to repeat the whole process three times until you finally got something you liked.

By the time you’d got around to doing your makeup, you were already over it, still irritated by your hair's inability to behave, but you stuck with it, giving yourself winged eyeliner, and several coats of mascara. There was no way you were going to faff trying to do your lips, so you just stuck with basic lip balm to complete your look.

With everything finished, you went to the long mirror in your room, having to give it a thorough clean before you could actually take any pictures. Ghost was worth it, that was unquestionable, but it didn’t make it any less of a faff. You were already out of breath, and you hadn’t even really done anything. How were you supposed to get across a slutty vibe with plausible deniability? Upskirt shot was out of the question. For now. Instead, you went with a classic pose, standing in front of the mirror, hand on your waist, resisting the urge to hold it up in a peace sign, your lips slightly pouted. Of course, you took a good dozen photos so you had a good range to choose from, hemming and hawing over which one was best before you finally decided.

From start to the finish, the whole process had taken about three hours, and the entire end result was a simple text that belied none of your efforts.

‘You: what do you think of my outfit? :) (image)’

There was no instant reply from him this time. You frowned at your phone, but it didn’t summon a text from him, so you just stuck it in your handbag and pretended you didn’t care, as though that would make the time until his next message shorter. Never worked before, but never stopped you from trying regardless.

In the time it took for you to put your coat and shoes on, and give Soap and Roach enough fuss that you didn’t feel guilty leaving them behind, you actually did get a response. You liked that about Ghost. He didn’t fuck about with long waiting times. Well, except for the weeks prior, but that didn’t count; his phone was blown up.

‘Ghost: Let me take you out instead. Anywhere you want.’

The offer was tempting. But you weren’t about to ditch your girls for Ghost. Even if it did take every fibre of your strength not to.

‘You: N o. I’m not ditching my mates for you.’

‘Ghost: Tease.’

‘You: Am not! Was just showing my outfit!’

‘Ghost: You know what you do to me.’

Shit, you were going to be late if you kept letting him distract you. There was just something about texting him that made you feel like a smitten teenager again.

‘You: Going out now! Byeeee’

‘Ghost: See you tonight :-)’

‘You: ???’

‘Ghost: I’m giving you a lift home. Just let me know when you need me.’

Oh, you liked that. You hadn’t even kissed him yet, and he was already your personal chauffeur?

‘You: Fine, will let you know.’

‘Ghost: That’s my girl ;-)’

With that, you locked your phone and stuffed it in the deepest recesses of your bag, knowing that you’d succumb to the temptation of texting him all day otherwise, and set out to catch the bus into town, already running late.

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Mask... Take It Off...

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary - You ask Ghost to take the mask off.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Vaginal sex. Rough Sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Blindfold.

A/N - An old one shot I found in my backlog. Enjoy 💜

Word Count - 1.4k

The small room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin and soft moans. Each roll of your hips brings you closer and closer until you are teetering on the edge of what truly feels like insanity. Your body is hot. Pleasure is burning through every nerve in your body while sweat drips and runs down your skin; the taste of salt filling your mouth. 

Ghost has been working you all night. Bringing you toward the edge over and over again, but never actually letting you reach it. You are starting to get the feeling that he does it because he likes to torture you.

His back is against the wall. While his hands rest on your thighs. Occasionally they move from their place to slap your ass or roughly play with one of your tits. 

Those deep brown eyes of his, framed by equally dark eyelashes, watch you intensely. It’s the only part of his face that you can see. It’s the only part of his face that you have ever seen. Except maybe Soap. He’s always wearing a some sort of balaclava or skull mask. It drives you mad. All you want is to feel his lips and tongue on your skin. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples or his tongue lapping at your drooling pussy. 

With how hot and bothered you are you have no freaking clue how he’s even still able to wear the damn thing. If it was you underneath that balaclava you would feel like you’re suffocating. 

Out of breath, with your legs aching, you slow your movements down, but don’t stop completely. You lean forward and press your forehead against how, doing your best to ignore how much you hate the feeling of the material against your sweat soaked skin. Your hands come to rest on the tops of his pecks.

“Ghost?” 

“Yeah, lovie?” he asks. His voice sounds strained. It comes as no surprise to you considering how hard he is inside of you. His cock twitching each time your walls flutter around him. He’s got to be as close to his own climax as you are to your own. 

You hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and asking the question you always ask.

“The mask? Take it off? For me?” 

You don’t expect anything to come from your asking. It never had done before. He usually flips you onto your front and fucks you into the mattress until you’re shaking from the after effects of your own orgasm and dripping with his. Before he unceremoniously pulls out from you and leaves you to deal with the mess all alone. Usually avoiding you for weeks afterwards until the next time he needs a release.

He looks at you for a moment, completely silent. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognise. It’s a long moment. One where the only things you can hear is your heart beat thumping in your ears and the squelching noise that your cunt and his cock make together sounds even louder than it did a few minutes ago.

He’s never looked at you like that before, you quickly realise. There’s no time for you to question it or figure out what that look means as he reaches for the bedside cabinet. Where his knife is laying. Ghost uses it to slice a strip of cloth out of the bedsheet and sets it aside. He brings the piece of scrap cloth up to your eyes and covers them, tying it behind your head. 

You can’t see shit now, but you don’t question it. You trust him and that extends to whatever the hell it is he is currently doing.

“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” 

“The fuck am I suppose to know?” you whine. Your pace slows further and you can feel your incoming climax fading away. Your legs are really starting to kill you.

“Just checkin’.” He slaps your ass, hard. Making you yelp.

The next thing you know there’s a rustling and you hear something hit the floor. Ghost takes hold of your hands and brings them up to his face. 

Holy fuck. He actually took his mask off for you.

Your fingers trace his face, mapping out every little detail you come across. You want to commit all of it to memory. While you can’t see him, this is certainly a step in the right direction. 

Ghost has pleasantly full lips and a sharp jawline. Already you’re thinking about how nice it will feel to kiss him. Those lips moving with your own in perfect harmony. 

You move away from the thought and continue your exploration. His nose is crooked and there’s a bump in the bridge from where it’s been broken countless times in the past. And you know exactly where his scars are from the way his skin is raised and rough in places. There’s not as many as you thought there would be. The biggest one that captures your attention is on the side of his face. Starting at his forehead, snaking just past his eye and down his cheek, toward his mouth. 

None of them shock you. At least, not completely. And you don’t think that they take away from how handsome you think he must look. 

As you’re tracing his face, you can feel Ghost shifting and moving beneath you, adjusting your positions slightly. Before you can ask what he’s doing he roughly thrusts up into you.

You moan loudly as your hands slide up to grip his hair. It’s a little bit longer than you were expecting it to be, but that makes it perfect for grabbing and tugging on. And you imagine it to be as dark as his eyes.

Ghost sets a hard and fast pace and builds your pleasure back up tenfold. Your moans quickly grow into cries as he fucks you. The grip that you have on his hair tightens as you desperately try to ground yourself. After being edged all night long you honestly feel like you might spontaneously combust. 

Suddenly you feel as if you are falling. With another yelp, this time out of fear not surprise, your fingers leave his hair to grab hold of his broad shoulders as your heart skips a beat. Your back hits the softness of the mattress and, for the first time ever, his lips meets yours in a passionate kiss. Even now you take note of how this is your first kiss ever with him and it’s completely and utterly perfect. You moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth. He tastes like peppermint gum. 

His pace remains just as relentless as before. The bed starts to creak with every thrust that he gives you. Your body jumps as the pad of his calloused thumb presses against your clit and he starts rubbing it in time of his thrusts.

All of that tension that has been building up inside of you all night long finally snaps. Euphoria rushes through every inch of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches and a wordless cry, muffled by Ghost’s mouth, leaves you. The feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock has Ghost falling over the edge straight after you. His hips stuttering as his cock twitches and he fills your pussy to the brim, so that you’re overflowing with his cum. He collapses against you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

With the absence of your bodies moving, the room is now only filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.

“Thank you. For trusting me, Ghost.” you finally say as you run your fingers through his hair.

There’s a pause. You expect him to pull away and to leave. Like he always does. But tonight is a night of firsts apparently. 

“It’s Simon.”

It’s your turn to pause for a moment. A part of your brain almost has you looking at him before you remember the makeshift blindfold you still have on. 

“What?” you ask, not sure if you had heard him right.

“My name,” he replies. “It’s Simon.” 

You truly feel honoured by the amount of trust that he is showing you tonight. First with removing his balaclava and letting you feel his face and now with telling you his real name. You know that it must take a lot for him.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Simon.”

[fadelbison]

Fadel and Bison Learning to Volley Affection in the way that only assassin (real) brothers (fake) can

the curse of being me is that I watch this show entirely with the lens that fadel/kant and bison/style are basically the same characters with a few key differences [like c'mon Kant's bg story is that he was a khun nu himself suddenly thrust into poverty and fatherhood to his baby brother??? its embarrassing how easy it is to watch the show in this way I think the show should make this harder for me] and it's in these differences that the compatibility of FadelStyle and KantBison comes in so strongly that it also kind of dooms Fadel and Bison to have ever worked as a pair even though that would be as far as I can tell Bison's ideal scenario?? [please his lovers in trenches fantasy is canonical the show is really just putting it all out there for me okay??]

And it's too simplistic to be an analysis and honestly largely based on my feelings but gosh doesn't it all boil down to how Fadel expresses affection and how that just doesn't work for Bison. I think Bison has had a lot of growth in understanding Fadel, I think Style actually helped with that. In fact, the biggest reason I would argue that the foil relationship runs in the Fadel/Kant and Bison/Style vein is because the brother's relationship got better when they started their romantic relationships. Suddenly, Bison realizes that he needs to ask things of Fadel and Fadel realizes that Bison needs a little softness now and then.

Fadel threatens Style all the time this is how they flirt. The way he shows affection stays the same whether it's Bison or Style. But Style was able to take it, he's able to volley it. When Fadel threatens to kill him Style comes back with a "well, make sure I look hot." when Fadel threatens Bison, Bison kind of withers a little.

I mean I don't blame him he is such a 'no thoughts just baby' of a man if I've ever seen one

[2 screenshots of Bison. 1st where he tries acting cutesy with Fadel over his stab wound and 2nd where Fadel shoots him down with a "Want another stab wound?"]

Bison's personality is just so ill equipped to handle Fadel's brand of affection it's almost hilarious because like he does the same thing to Style right before they reconcile hahaha

[2 screenshots of Fadel telling Style "I can be worse" and "You want that?"]

BUT! He's learning!!! After his initial frustration he does smile in this fond and exasperated way.

I screamed when I saw him share this moment with Style:

[2 screenshots of Bison telling Style like he's sharing a secret, "He {Fadel} acts all tough and rough on the outside but on the inside he's just a softie.]

Oh??? oh you understand this about your brother now??? You've only had like over a decade to figure this out about him and yet in Ep.1 you told Kant that Fadel was tough inside and out!!!! Why are you telling Style this as though he isn't the reason you even know!!! I think this has always been Bison's fundamental issue with Fadel:

I think he's just never figured out that Fadel loves him and worries about him? Poor baby, I'll never get over him asking Fadel to be his brother like Kant is with Babe. Fadel is already that brother to you Bison, what are you talking about 😭😭😭 I think their relationship with Keen has revealed so much about Fadel and Bison [because god forbid they tell us anything directly about their past] but Keen has struggled to be seen by their family, for his efforts to be acknowledged by Mother and by Mother's favorite (Fadel).

Bison's competence has gotten him a certain measure of respect from Mother and Older Sister (Fadel) but he too has struggled to be seen by them, to be taken seriously by them. Keen and Bison are more similar in their position in the family than Bison and Fadel even though Keen can't see it. But Bison can, and I would argue that Bison has always felt it.

It's not surprising that Fadel and Bison's dynamic shifts because Bison is the one learning to talk to Fadel, with jibes and threats and guns if needed

[screenshot of Fadel saying to Bison "You're turning a gun on your own brother for him?]

@mirmoria was extremely spot on when they said that this moment was never about Kant, it was always about Fadel finally listening to him and giving Bison his right to choose Kant's fate back to him. Bison has finally figured out what to do about his lack of agency in this relationship! Bison says as much too:

[Screenshot of Bison responding to Fadel with a gun pointed at him, "But it's my life"]

Anyway, with all of this new found understanding between them at no point in the story have Bison and Fadel been more primed to fall in love than right now, yes right at the height of their respective romances on the beach. And these are the kinds of earth shattering conclusions you can always hope to find in the stuff I write.

[triglycercule]

oh yeah before i forget cute mttpoly headcanon because i said so: when killer finds out (through SOME way of means. he has his ways) that dust and horror like something then at every chance he can he goes and finds that thing for them :3 because I SAID SO AND IT'S CUTE ‼️‼️ (something something killer has no idea how to properly show affection and appreciation after believing his whole life was meant to cause pain and suffering to those close to him and now that he's trying he does silly goofy stuff like this hehe,,,,,,, dust is DROWNING in piles of fluffy blankets and books. horror cannot keep up with eating the amount of snacks killer keeps stealing for him 😞😞😞)

[sysig]

Coding woes (Patreon)

[mars-ipan]

interesting to me how when i turned 19 i was kinda terrified bc i was like “oh shit this is my last year as a teenager….. i won’t be a teenager after that… i wanted to be a teenager for all of my childhood and now that part’s almost Over. aaaaugh” and now approx. 9 months later i cannot fucking WAIT to stop being a teenager oh my god i am ready to move on. 20s please i would like to be in them. i am done being 19 thank you !!!

[lemongogo]

need 2 find myself again in 2025 . tbhwu

[bmpmp3]

post ankle-twisting clarity

[agayconcept]

.

[blackjackkent]

Me> [struggling to unravel a very annoying UI bug]

My brain, entirely unprompted> H E Y. IF JAHEIRA HAD USED SOME MORE MINOR VERSION OF THAT RITE OF THE TIMELESS BODY ON RASAAD TO EXTEND HIS LIFESPAN, IT WOULD RESOLVE THE MORE FINICKY TIMELINE ISSUES ABOUT RION BEING THEIR KID.

Me> ...ok? I didn't ask right now but thank you for working that out I guess.

[circus-k]

i think i have to kill someone.

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[sevicia]

I wanted to make a cleaner summary of last week's classes and also review the classes I have this week since the material is already uploaded beforehand but I was feeling so horrible throughout the day that when I sat down I was just gonna look at the ones for tomorrow but I think I'm just gonna go to bed because I just gave my little numbers game a few tries and not even the joy of tribial elementary school-level math games is bringing my brain cells and/or full sentience back

[exopelagic]

sudden realisation that the thing holding my art back is that I never had an anime phase

[izzy-b-hands]

FUCK i have to try and handmake the xmas cards for my aunt's family and my grandparents. so they can be sent out when we send out my mum's xmas package. I fuckin forgor. also. terrified they're gonna look like shit and get made fun of (family holiday tradition for many handmade things unless they're Up To Family Standard aka as close to professionally made as possible). but I can't afford to buy cards rn, not when Hallmark is like fuckin. six bucks a card and that's probably an out of date price tbh, they're probably more expensive since last I checked.

What if Housemate and I just went to live with the cats in a lighthouse and only sent out whatever we could as we could and ppl would just have to like it or lump it, and also the gov would pay us to keep up the lighthouse . what if