#sorry my brain is just whirring with 'they would fuck nasty' over and over again and I can't get it to stop

[incorrect-web-novels]

In any AU, Xue Yang has to be a stranger to Lan Xichen, or they would fuck nasty. There's no in-between.

[veritable-trash]

We Could Go All Night

i am literally losing my mind, no thoughts fully feral he is all i have been thinking about oh my god oh my god oh my god

Pairing: Santiago Pope Garcia x F!Reader

Words: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ like actually so nasty, like actually i need help, like actually this man send my brain straight into the gutter, i want to devour him body AND SOUL, piv, this man a warning alone, biting, overstimulation, it's nasty and dirty you've been warned.

A/N: hahahAHHAHAHAH ok so i've been hyperfixated on him. i cannot think of anything else other than his man and all of the nasty things so i wrote this in a feral horny stupor and i hope you possibly enjoy it. this is sorta a continuing of orange daydream but it's not necessary to read that to enjoy the freak nasty here :) alright hope you enjoy this horny mess hehehehehehe <3333333

masterlist weoweoweow

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s not common that you are the one that wakes in a cold sweat at night. 

Usually it’s you wrapping Santi in your arms from behind as he whimpers in his sleep, the skin on his back tacky with cold sweat and memories he still has a hard time even telling you about. 

But tonight it’s you, the anxiety dreams stealing you away from the peace that was your shared bedroom.

In your house. 

With Santi. 

Though even that thought can’t bring you back from the ledge of wracking shivers and restless limbs.

Your eyes snap open for what feels like the hundredth time that evening, an exhausted sigh muffling into the pillow that’s damp with sweat. Why tonight of all nights your mind decides to go on a high speed race completely evades you but it doesn’t seem like you and sleep will be warm and cozy friends this evening. 

And it pains you even more because Santi is sleeping so sweetly pressed up behind you. Nose burrowed in the crook of your neck, legs tangled up with yours and the sheets, fingers splayed from the bottom of your ribs down to just below your belly button and usually the feel of him, the way he holds you would have you drifting into the sweetest dreams and all encompassing comfort. 

But now you’re too cognizant of every breath hoping to not wake the beautiful man behind you who will probably never get enough good sleep in his life with how his brain works. 

You close your eyes again, trying to steady your breath once more, counting sheep, counting your breaths, ticking away the seconds, anything to get you to calm the fuck down and every single tactic seems to drive you further up the wall. You have to get out of this bed.

But the second you move to try and quietly shift out of Santi’s grip, he presses you back to him, finger tips digging into the softness of your stomach, a whiny grumble settling against the middle your spine. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The smile that slips across your lips can’t be helped. He sounds divine.

Gravelly and deep and so content, you never thought he would be able to find such calm. 

You bring the hand resting against your stomach up to your lips and whisper into his palm,“Oh baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just can’t sleep my brains all over the fucking place tonight, I’m just kinda loosing it.”

Every word is pressed into the callouses and dips along his hand and fingers and he nuzzles even closer to you, somehow pressing even more of himself against the back of you, and you can’t stop yourself from rolling back into him, pressing just as much back into him, needing him to know how much being close to him like this can still calm you. 

His hand drops from your lips to wrap itself around your jaw turning your head back to him, and he sits up just enough for you to see his sleepy eyes tracking across your features. 

God it’s just unfair that he gets to look like that.

“What can I do baby? You want me to distract ya for a bit, hm?” Even at three in the morning, with his hair mussed, features coated in a layer of sleep he still wiggles his eyebrows at you with promise and you giggle at him and the whirring in your brain slows by a couple miles per hour. 

His mouth drops back down to the corner of your jaw, mouthing at you in a way that has your hips rolling back against him, thoughts slowly eddying out till all you can think about is his warm breath against your skin and the hardening line of his cock against your ass. 

“Well, when you say it so sweet like that, I mean how could a girl refuse?”

He huffs a laugh against your throat, adding a nip of teeth into the mix that pulls a gasp from you, his hand traveling just a smidge lower, wrapping around your throat and pulling you fully flush to him now. 

“You feel so fucking good baby, don’t know how I don’t wake up every night to fuck you.”

And the fucking mouth on him too. You whimper against your pillow as his mouth sucks and bites at the exposed column of your throat and his hips continue to roll against your ass, letting you feel exactly what’s waiting for you and yet leaving you so, so empty. 

His hand travels down lower, wrapping around your thigh and pulling it back over his own, opening you up to him and his cock slips down to rut against your sopping folds. 

“Fuck, Santi, please, please, please, baby, please.” You’re babbling as his cock continues its long slow strokes against you but not in you. You can feel your wetness coating him, can hear the sound of him slipping against you over and over and over again. His breath so hot on the back of your neck, teeth clamping down just so on your shoulder, you’re drowning in him, willfully succumbing to the way he’s making you feel. 

“So fucking wet for me baby, always so wet for me, god yes. You want my cock, hm? That what you want? I can’t wait to feel you baby, can’t wait to have you wrapped around me, fuck you’re gonna feel so good. You going to be good for me? Be my good girl just for me, ya?”

You keen for him, whimper and roll your hips just so and he just catches at your entrance and the moans ripped from both of your throats are lewd. Dirty and needy and fracturing around the edges with how worked up you both are. 

“Yes, Santi I’ll be so good for you baby. Only for you, always for you.” You’re words are slurred but he hears you loud and clear. The bite of his teeth and the groan against your skin confirms that he heard you. 

And with those beautiful words, he finally slips into you down to the hilt. 

“F-fuck, so fucking tight baby, yes.” 

He nestles somehow even deeper into your core, hips pressed flush to the curve of your ass, and your toes curl with the stretch of him. The air is knocked out of your lungs, a breathless whine all that you can give when he fills you like this. 

His palm rests against your lower stomach and you know he can feel himself in your gut as he roles all the way out and snaps right back in. 

“Santi, shit, yes, just like that, just like that, you feel so good.” Every snap of his hips has you chocking on air, words breathless, moans high pitched and keening and you can feel his chuckle up and down your spine. 

You can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in your ears and your own moans, until Santi slows down his punishing pace to slow, long strokes through your heat.

And then you finally hear how fucking wet you are. The squelch of his cock pushing in and out of you now deafening and all you can focus on as Santi whines against your back, his fingers trailing down to between your thighs feeling how you’re stretched around the girth of him.

“Oh baby, you’re so fucking wet for me. Jesus, fucking dripping for me, fuck. Stretched so pretty around me sweetheart, so good for me.”

His words rip you to shreds, drool pooling on the pillow as your mind blanks out with the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. The slow roll of his hips driving you fucking insane with how you need more, your orgasm building in slow lapping waves that somehow feel like they’re also about to fucking drown you. Your hand comes up to dig into his curls tugging him ever closer as you start to roll your hips back, following his strokes. 

He chokes on a moan, your grip in his hair tightening as the coil in your stomach builds to something almost painful. 

Yet his strokes stay slow, punching up into you, pleasure clawing at every nerve in your being. 

“I need more, baby, please, fuck, just a little more baby, please.”

“Anything for you my good girl, anything for you baby, fuck always, anything.”

And then his fingers find your clit and press.

You almost scream out as the pleasure rips from your core, the orgasm you’d thought was only in the distance, actually right there just waiting for that final press to finally drown you in wave after wave after wave of pleasure. 

It starts as a spasm, your walls clamping down in a vice like grip around his cock, the pleasure so overwhelming it’s almost painful. Your whole body starts to shake as Santi continues plunging into your cunt, through every shiver, every pulse, pulling pleasure from every corner of your being, his fingers continuing to press tight circles against your clit. 

You’re babbling incoherently into your pillow, your body not sure if it wants more or if it’s all too much, and then you feel Santi’s hips start to stutter against your ass. Can feel more than hear his groans as he starts to fill you with pulse after pulse of his cum, filling you till he starts to leak out onto your thighs. 

It’s all so wet, and he nips at the column of your throat as his fingers continue to rub against your clit even as your orgasm ebbs away. His cock is still stuffed in you, barely softening as he continues to tease at you and your body starts to shiver with the overwhelming feeling of it. 

“Baby, can you give me one more? I think you can give me one more, tell me if it’s too much but I think you can do it baby. Let me make you feel good, my good girl, doing so good for me, fuck yes baby please.”

You whine, high pitched and needy, and your body can’t decide if it wants to pull away from his fingers or grind into them harder. You turn your head, seeking out his lips and the kiss is messy, more heaving breaths and nips of teeth than anything else. 

But it all feels so fucking good. 

Your hips start to move against his fingers, and his responding groan settles scorching hot in the pit of your stomach where another orgasm seems to be somehow building once again as though the first one never even fully finished. He has you wrapped around his finger, and you aren’t one to complain. 

This orgasm builds slower than the first, but no less intense, the still lingering ripples of pleasure starting to crash into each other.

Your breaths are more like pants and he holds you painfully still as he circles over your clit with such precision the pleasure blurs with pain as tears leak from your eyes. He’s ruining you. Completely and utterly destroying you as he builds you up to heights you didn’t know you could reach. 

And as he sinks his teeth into your pulse point, fingers circling one final time with an earth-shattering press, you fracture into a million little pieces. 

You can’t even moan, can’t even breath as your orgasm chews you up and spits you out. You can only shiver in his arms as he whispers praise after praise into your ear, lips sucking at the lobe, pulling the pleasure somehow even further. 

Finally the wave breaks and you’re panting his name, clawing at his arm, shoving his hand away from your clit because now it’s too fucking much. Your body curling in on itself as burning pleasure sparkles from your fingertips to your toes that has your minding blanking out, the only thing grounding you being the soft press of Santis lips against your skin and the warmth of his body.  

You don’t know if it’s been minutes or hours before your eyes finally blink open and you uncurl your fingers and toes, wiggling them around working out the numbness, and try to stretch your spine only to feel Santi’s cock, fully hard again and still so, so deep inside you.

Santi and you both moan into the night air and you can feel his smile against your throat. You can't help but giggle back at him.

It seems as though tonight is long from over. 

Not that you’re complaining. Who needs sleep anyways.

~~~~~

lol sorry take me to horny jail i just couldn't help myself :) he is just so hot and I WANT HIM!!!!! alright gonna go curl up in a ball in my room and think about him for another million hours kisses <333333

[vampybravo]

wayhaven week: day two [a feral tenderness.]

prompt: tender

pairing: ava du mortain x zara tang

warnings: this hints and slightly details some very dark backstory bits for my detective. mentions of death and loss. 

@otomefandomevents

The Detective’s apartment was like a real home. It wasn’t cluttered at all, but it was full with enough cute decorations to make it look welcoming and lived in despite how she obsessively cleaned when she was stressed. And tonight, she really was very stressed --- Unit Bravo had insisted on staying over to keep watch, by order of her mother, after a nasty incident just a few hours ago where some dickhead on the street wouldn’t take no for an answer; it resulted in him attempting to drag Zara down a dark alleyway and into a getaway car, and it had also resulted in him getting a particularly nasty black eye after the shock of the moment had faded. 

And now Zara was restless and also would kill for some chocolate, and so Nat had offered to accompany her to the store. The apartment door had closed with a gentle click, and a quiet had settled in the apartment. It was gradually growing darker outside as the sun set over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the sleepy little town, and so Zara had dimmed the lights and turned on her fairy lights instead. The only sounds heard were that of the television which was set on low-volume, Farah’s leg kicking off the bottom of the expensively velvet sofa she was seated in, and Morgan’s occasional puff of a cigarette. 

“Oh,” said Farah with a small frown when her foot suddenly connected with something underneath the couch. Something hard and something solid. The confusion faded quickly though, and was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. Curious excitement clawed at her until she quickly clambered off of the sofa and onto the floor, on all fours, to peer underneath the furniture. 

“Farah,” said Ava, her confused voice cutting through the sudden silence. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Investigating,” replied Farah. She blindly stuck her arm out underneath the sofa and fished around for whatever object she had managed to kick, and grinned gleefully when she managed to grab it and pull it out onto the wooden floorboards. She positioned herself cross-legged on the floor and placed it in front of her on the detective’s fluffy rug. A box. It was a box. “It seems our detective has some secrets…”

Ava released an exasperated sigh. “Farah…” she said, the warning in her voice evident. Farah dismissed it with a wave of her hand before running her fingertips over the edges of the wooden box. It was white, and freshly coated with paint. At least, it looked it --- she supposed it wouldn’t get much wear and tear whilst being shoved underneath the couch, anyways. And then she pulled the lid off of the box quickly, eagerness shining brightly in her eyes, before her smile faltered. 

“What the---”

She was cut off by Ava grabbing the box from her, fully intending to re-seal the object and place it back in its rightful place, except she found herself to be just as surprised as Farah was once she caught sight of what was inside. 

A tiny, tiny, white baby onesie was placed in there, along with other items; an ultrasound scan picture, a cut lock of hair sealed inside of a tiny glass box, and another, smaller wooden box, with a plaque on the front, engraved with a name: Vivienne. 

Ava clenched her jaw and frowned before quickly snatching the lid out of shocked Farah’s still hands, putting it back on top of the box, and shoving it under the sofa. But it was too late.

The detective and Nat stood in the doorway; Nat had moved a little more into the apartment, oblivious to the girl’s utter shock as she stood, frozen, in the doorway. All the detective could see was Farah’s hands grasped around the box --- her box --- and Ava putting it back where it came from. And then she could distantly hear Ava snapping at Farah through the ringing in her ears about touching things that weren’t hers, and Nat was asking what was going on, and Zara had no fucking idea what to do. 

“I---I didn’t mean---” Farah stammered, unusually flustered and panicked for the young vampire, before she finally caught sight of the detective in the doorway. Her eyes grew wide. Ava’s expression once again turned into shock. (If it wasn’t for the context of the situation, Zara was certain that she wouldn’t have been able to hold back a laugh at the way Ava’s lips parted and eyes widened considerably.) Nat, thankfully, hadn’t seen the contents of the box --- neither had Morgan from her place crowded into a corner. 

Zara bit the inside of her cheek before managing to move. She closed the door behind her and made her way into the kitchen without a second glance at the living room. Unfortunately, her apartment was open-plan apart from her bedroom, and so it was really fucking hard to do. She wordlessly switched on the coffee machine and watched it grow alive, listening to the gentle whirring it made, desperately hoping for it to drown out everything that had happened. And maybe even erase it completely. 

It was an awful lot to ask of a coffee machine, really. 

She opened a cupboard and grabbed a white mug. Not her favourite. Her favourite was in the dishwasher --- had it finished yet? --- no. She placed it under the coffee machine. Her head throbbed with her own heartbeat when Ava cleared her throat. 

“Detective,” she said, and tried to sound stoic, but Zara could hear the concern in her tone. Zara tried to drown it out as the machine poured out her drink. She stirred. Ava tried again. “Detective.”

Zara went straight into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and let herself slide down it, tucking her knees up to her chest and breathing shakily. She shouldn’t be acting like this --- not in front of Unit Bravo, anyways. But they also shouldn’t have found out. She had kept the secret well enough for years and had killed any surfacing rumours with harsh glares and an intolerance to the gossip. They weren’t supposed to know, she repeated in her mind. Why do they have to know?

Her shuddering breaths were the only thing she could hear for quite a while, until the panic and shock dissipated into anxiety and shame. It clawed and crawled its way up into her guts, bubbling furiously, threatening to spill right out of her. And it did. She cried for a long time --- she didn’t know exactly how long. Maybe a few hours. Maybe just half an hour. 

The sky was enveloped in vast darkness when she managed to hold back her choked sobs, wipe her eyes with some tissues, and turn on her record player. The scratching sound was familiar. The sound of the smooth music echoing around her room was comforting. It was okay. It was going to be okay. 

Was it?

She was sat cross-legged on her bed when there was a knock on her bedroom door. Her chest tightened with the returning panic. “Zara?”

Ava. It was Ava. 

Her panic abated; just like that.

“Yeah?”

The door opened swiftly and there she stood, but not for long until she moved and closed the door behind herself. Zara blinked. “I came to see if you were alright,” said the woman. Her blonde hair, usually pulled up into a tight bun, was slightly mussed. Two strands of hair fell at either side of her face, framing the soft lines of her cheekbones. Her brows were furrowed with concern. “And to apologise for what happened.”

Zara shrugged bitterly. “It’s not your fault.”

Ava stared at her for a long while, gaze softening as she watched Zara tuck her hair behind her ear and attempt to give her a smile. It was soft and made Ava’s stomach churn with foolish fluttering. She cleared her throat and tried to bury the feeling --- she had been unsure of whether to check up on Zara for hours now as the memories of the last time they’d been alone together in this room burned brightly in her brain. That memory made her heart flutter, too. 

“Regardless,” said Ava, “I’m truly sorry.”

Zara nodded before she paused. “You don’t have to just stand there, you know,” she said, and her voice was small. “I don’t bite.”

An amused smile curled Ava’s lips, eyes glinting but still shining with worry. Wordlessly, she walked across the room and sat stiffly at the edge of Zara’s bed. Zara leaned back against the plush pillows and watched her before she broke the silence. 

“Is Farah okay?”

Ava blinked. “I believe she is,” she said. “Although concerned.” She tried her best to stop the way her stomach churned at Zara’s soulless tone, or the lingering touch of hurt that shone in her eyes. Despite herself, Ava felt the determined urge to do something, anything that would provide even the slightest ounce of comfort to the detective. Her mind ran blank. Maybe some coffee, or---

Zara averted her gaze to stare up at the ceiling. “I heard shouting.”

“Yes.” The word was stiff. She wasn’t very good at this sort of thing.

“Do you hate me?”

The shocked expression on Ava’s face was too quick to be hidden. “Why on earth would I hate you?”

Zara shrugged again. “You saw what was in the box, yeah?”

Ava’s jaw clenched. “Yes,” she admitted. “Although I was simply trying to stop Farah from rummaging through your belongings --- which she called investigating.” Her words were tempered with their usual sharp edge of disapproval, but it was different this time. 

The dark-haired woman didn’t seem to listen. She never did like to take no for an answer; it was one of the many traits that Ava couldn’t help but admire about her. Her fierce determination, her unwavering ambition, her ferocious tenderness that was reserved just for Ava, just for their moments alone like this. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.” She laid herself vulnerable, over and over. She would regret this in the morning.

“I couldn’t hate you if I tried,” confessed Ava, and the tone she used was the gentle one that made Zara’s heart swell, her stare so soft it almost made her melt under it. Zara swallowed thickly, trying to suppress how she was often reduced to nothing but raw, uncaged tenderness whenever Ava was around. Ava was doing the very same, Zara could tell, by the familiar way the blonde woman wavered under her softer stare, shifting and shying away from it, shielding herself once more. Something about the tenderness of the night made it near impossible for Ava to preserve her walls and her dignity, and so she gave in, again and again and again, as she always did. The quizzical thing was how Zara managed to always make her want to give in; to shatter her own safeguards, if even for a moment, and follow her light. She wondered if it would be safe. She wondered if it would feel as warm as Zara’s skin did on hers. Yes, she thought to herself. Without a doubt. And there was that foolish fluttering in her chest once more.

“Have you?” asked Zara.

There was a heavy pause.

“Every day,” said Ava.

And gosh, she wished she could.

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 13x23 “Let The Good Times Roll”

idk what you guys thought but I LIKED IT and here’s why!!!! (EXCEPT THAT THING WITH THE KNIFE??? WHAT THE HELL???)

04:02pm

so it only took 45 minutes to an hour to find somewhere to watch this, my thanks to @trisscar368 for helping me out!!!

eventually found it streaming rather than downloading, would not recommend but HEY IT WORKS (for now) [http://gorillavid.in/zbtu97hfei65]

this feels like it’s 2008 all over again, trying to watch doctor who after school

OKAY LET’S GO

i’ve seen a bunch of major spoilers but i know cas doesn’t die so i’m good. apparently it’s A Boring Episode but also MICHEAL and LUCIFER so

idk idk let’s just watch the thing and find out what happens

-

04:04

rowena: is there, i dunno, music? CARRY ON MYY WAYWAR---

fuck

-

04:09pm

feels good having bobby there

-

BOBBY’S REACTION TO TRUMP IS THE BEST EVER

“and you call where WE come from ‘apocalypse world’?”

-

04:11

cas: “they’re talking about whether kylie jenner would make a good mother. consensus is no”

hey give her a chance

i mean i know nothing about her but she seems... teachable?

-

dean: “yeah well, that’s why i’m a chloe man”

WHOOOOOP dean loves his girly trash tv i see

-

brown werewolf: “now that is why i’m a chloe man”

dead brown person alert :|

how naive i was to think he might be left alive because he got a speaking line and made himself a dean parallel with that single line

-

04:16

mary: “do you really like the rain?”

bobby: “when it’s this beautiful, i do”

lest anyone forget bobby is a gentle down to earth sweetheart

soft papa bear

-

“rowena and charlie are road-tripping it through the south-west”

WOULD WATCH THAT SPINOFF

but #savewaywardsisters first

-

04:19

dean: “can you imagine? you, me, cas, toes in the sand, couple of those little umbrella drinks, matching hawaiian shirts, obviously”

PLEASE

“....some hula girls“

mmmm *squints at how that part was said after a....... pause, off-screen with the camera on sam*

-

04:24

dean to jack: “it’s not about being strong....... i don’t know what you went through over there... but i know you came out the other side. because you ARE strong”

good papa dean words

much love for him and his emotional avaliability

-

04:26

dean: “whatever you’re dealing with, whatever comes at us, we’ll figure out a way to deal with it. together. we’re family, kid”

sam said it to dean, dean said it to jack

i guess the next step is ...jack saying it to cas?? SOMEONE’s gotta say it to cas

but also WOOOO DEAN’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT REGARDING JACK SINCE THE START OF THE SEASON

-

04:32

um

is it just me or is this a seriously unfortunate racist-looking coincidence

desperately hoping this wasn’t the guy who killed maggie

(i don’t think it is, which means maybe this is a “don’t jump to conclusions” kind of storyline which has a race-relations subtext??? i wish it meant nothing besides jack’s need to protect others, but given the lack of living characters of colour on this show, the minute a person of colour shows up, it BECOMES about the fact they’re not white, bECAUSE they always die, invariably)

anyway, my point is: this is problematic

also the red shirt. as in “red shirts always die” ??

edit: thank goodness....... RED HERRING

-

“3 sheeps” poster in the background

i remember this symbolism from something earlier but can’t remember exactly what

i’m thinking lambs to the slaughter, or being part of a flock, or being herded into something they’re wrong about, being naive, following each other one by one into the unknown

wow reading tarot has improved my “make a list of all the obvious symbolism” skills

-

04:39

the fact cas is suffering with the angel language whistle is interesting?? i thought it hurts dean because he can’t understand it

which means.......cas isn’t understanding this noise?

or maybe he is understanding, it’s just real loud

-

04:42

enjoying sam being protective of cas

-

lucifer: ........”the three amigos.... sam, dean, and the other one”

that’s probably how a lot of people see team free will tbh

how sad

-

lucifer: “you want a lightsaber?”

jack:

vroom

we mAY HAVE LONG SAID HE’S TOO PRECIOUS FOR THIS WORLD BUT WE NEVER MEANT FOR HIM TO LEAVE

-

04:50

that awkward moment when you’re trying to solve a murder and your adorable magic grandson comes home with the devil

:o

-

the face you make when the devil makes an ableist joke about your son and then says “no offence”

(the ”i would murder you but there’s enough dead bodies in here right now” face)

-

04:56

maggie: “kinda seems like you have... you know, bigger.... satan-y... problems”

bless this girl

-

05:00

dean: “as shakespeare once said: eat me, dick-bag”

tbh shakespeare probably did say that at one point or another

add shakespeare to the list of dean’s bisexual heroes

(follow up thought: what if when cas could time-travel, he and dean and sam went to go explore shakespeare’s town and dean made.... Friends)

-

05:04

lucifer’s talking to jack about their future space travels

i mean i think it’s fairly obvious, lucifer was the one who killed maggie, so he could bring her back and impress jack

maggie said “i didn’t see their face but i saw their eyes” and that means it was either lucifer or michael with the glowing eyes, and micheal said to dean “you’ll be the first life i take in this world” which leaves lucifer

stinking nasty manipulative trash angel

-

05;07

micheal, while strangling dean: “could’ve done this quick, but i wanted to enjoy it, that moment when the soul leaves the body”

yeeeah okay sure, speak aloud your reasons you’re stalling for time while jack figures out how to get back

-

05:10

jack to lucifer: “you’re not my father. you monster”

HUZZAH

-

for the record i’m... reaLLY ENJOYING THIS episode so far

it’s all big and mighty and magical but the core of the story is a boy trying to find his family and figure out the truth behind his manipulative father

i’m so glad it led to this because i am HERE for this kind of story

the world hangs in the balance, but it’s not dean, cas and sam trying to save everyone, it’s jack trying to find his place among loved ones, and by following his desire to help people he’s learning what he needs to know

i fucking love this okay

-

05:14

lucifer: i just need your power--

OH NO I SPOKE TOO SOON

OH NO

-

05:17

michael: “this is the end. of everything”

I SEE DEAN’S COGS WHIRRING AND I WORRY

nine years of not saying yes to micheal and now it’s happening isn’t it

-

05:20

jack’s pained little whimper :c :c :c

-

05:21

dean: “i am your sword”

CHILLS

-

05:22

dean: “CAS I DON’T HAVE A CHOICE”

cas: D:

PERFECT MOMENT FOR AN AGGRESSIVE KISS but nope that would be too much like goodbye

-

05:24

third option rather than sam or jack trying to kill each other: they pick up lucifer’s blade and kill lucifer with it

-

05:26

WHAT 

NO

??????

BAD IDEA????

JUST STAB LUCIFER????

-

jack:  i love you

NOO ;;A;A;A;A;A;A;A;;A;A

DJSGJD

I’M NOT ENJOYING THIS 0/10 WOULD NOT RECOMMEND 

PLEASE STOP

-

05:27

WELL FUCK

hi there

WHHHOOOOOOO

meanwhile back at the bunker: cas has the weirdest traumatic boner

-

05:29

THE WINGS KEEP GETTING BIGGER

-

05:31

interesting angel flying physics here

dean flails while sailing slowly backwards

i mean i know he’s on a suspension wire but technically waving his arms about ought to affect his position

-

05:33

LITERALLY SAM COULD’VE DONE THAT TO BEGIN WITH

WHAT EVEN WAS THE POINT OF THIS

HE COULD’VE ACTED LIKE HE WAS ABOUT TO STAB JACK AND THEN GO WHOOSH AND STAB LUCIFER

SAM HAS FUCKING NOODLE ARMS HE COULD’VE DONE IT WITH HIS EYES CLOSED

JEEZ

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05:35

okay but i’m laughing right now

are you telling me this is what happens if lucifer accidentally trips and falls on his knife

where did that golden blade come from anyway

has lucifer just been carrying it around this whole time?

COULD ANYONE HAVE PICKPOCKETED THAT KNIFE AND STABBY STABBY >>> EXPLODING FLYING FLAME DEVIL ??

WHAT BRAIN CELLS WAS LUCIFER MISSING TO HAND THAT BLADE TO SAM WINCHESTER IN THE FIRST PLACE

OR GO INTO BATTLE WITH MICHAEL WITHOUT THE KNIFE

OR TO HAVE THAT BLADE ON HAND IN THE FIRST PLACE ??????????

I’m sorry i just find this hilarious

i mean good fucking riddance to this trash angel but wow what a way to get there

all of this was so easily avoidable ?? i seriously don’t understand what possessed sam to think “aw yeah let’s pick up this magic devil blade to KILL MY OWN SON and/or HAND IT TO HIM SO HE CAN KILL ME” instead of “umMMM the devil just gave me a magic knife and is trying to tell us to kill each other maybe we should kill him with it”

I HOPE SOMEONE IN THE WRITER’S ROOM HAS A REALLY GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS

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05:45

HAPPY RELIEVED SAMMY

why do i feel like everything’s about to go terribly terribly wrong, worse than before

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05:48

i mean micheal!dean looks good though

despite everything i think dean would approve of the outfit

-

like he actually looks a little bit TOO attractive

definitely not to be trusted

you know when people just look TOO handsome and shiny and perfect and they’re TOO charming and you know something’s up

this guy’s got danger written all over him in sleek & elegant calligraphy

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05:50pm

mmmmmmmmm okay, it’s over

i liked it ?

felt old-school, kinda like a buffy episode or an x-files episode

things i’m happy about: everyone lived and lucifer died!! this is a pretty cool progression of events and i’m interested to see where it goes (not EXCITED, i’m not EAGER, but i am interested). that black dude was not the one who killed maggie. maggie survived!!!

things i’m not thrilled about: the fact sam didn’t just stab lucifer in the face when he was right next to him holding the magic knife?????? i don’t get it and i don’t think any kind of meta is actually gonna be able to explain how ~UM EXCUSE ME JUST ONE SECOND~esque that moment was

no bechdel test pass

jack’s personal arc this season was great and i love him

as always, this show is riveting to me only because i care so much about the characters, and i cannot tELL YOu how fucking pleased i am that this show’s universe is now a universe where bobby, charlie, mary, rowena, dean, cas, sam, jack, jody, donna, claire, the other wayward girls, and billie ALL EXIST AND ARE ALIVE

seriously could’ve done with some kevin too, i’m still bummed that he’s died TWICE now and isn’t back permanently yet

but HOLY SHIT THE REST OF THEM ARE ALL ALIVE 

GIVE ME A TEAM-FREE-WILL-MAJOR SEASON WITH ALL THE SQUAD ALIVE AND KICKING ASS AS A GROUP

like... save dean as a group, then one by one discover that dean and cas have been locked in a room without clothes for three days, then save the world and retire forever as a happy, healthy hunter squad with their gay dads

FUCK YEAH

overall, this episode is maybe a 9/10 just because that FUCKING KNIFE man. i dunno what to think about that.

like .........why

i also want cas to have a season arc!!! a positive one!!! where he actually accepts love and expresses affection and receives AUDIBLE AND VISIBLE AND TANGIBLE affection from others!!!

and for fuck’s sakes stop killing people of colour, give us more women of colour who are good and don’t die, pass the bechdel test more often

AND ABOVE ALL GIVE US WAYWARD SISTERS I WANT THAT SHOW SO BADLY AND EVERYTHING IT REPRESENTS

IT WOULD FILL IN ALL THE GAPS THAT ARE MISSING FROM THIS SHOW

PLEASE