#the cathedrals though? they are sexy …

[roadkilllz]

I really dont like Black Swan's in-game design, which is a shame since she's a pretty cool character. I find her design overly sexualized and in its horny pursuit any interesting themes and elements is forgotten in a blur of purple and random belts (seriously, why does she just have a belt on her head???). So, here's my take on it!

Some notes/thoughts on it below the read more :3

I decided to keep her original hair, eyecolour and necklace as I find them all quite pretty. + the necklace fits the cathedral theme seen in the dress

I really like the cathedral thing in her ult which is why I decided to lean into it in my design! I also associate tarot readers/fortune tellers to be hidden in wavy layers of fabric which is why I went for a more flowy slip dress and a heavy shawl. In my original sketch she did have the veil over her head but I forgot to add it here before I finished the shawl, which is why I went for some forget-me-not flowers (no real reason other than I like their name and think it fits Black Swan's whole fascination for memories). To keep some of the sexy I gave the dress a deep cleavage and long slit. If it's one thing I wish Hoyo's designers would realise is that showing more skin doesnt instantly equal sexy! I can name multiple well-clothed characters that make me foam at the mouth

On the technical side; drawing all these patterns was a huge challenge for me. Most of my ocs have quite simple designs and I usually simplify whatever hoyo character I'm drawing. the work was worth it though. I'm especially happy with how the shawl came out <3

[misc-obeyme]

NSFW??

Listen, I'm like almost one year to the party, but I followed (ahem stalked) through your Blog and finished reading through all your Fics and this one kinktober fic of yours 'Graveyard sex' caught my attention 👀 First of all, I loved it very well done! and secondly, I adore Mary shelley, so that was a bonus too.

So I got inspired, and I was imagining getting it on inside a church/cathedral with our favourite Demons/Angels. For the demon brothers it's a direct way to say 'fuck you old man' to their father lmao.

So anyway, regardless of which demon (or angel) you choose. I can't help but imagine doing it inside an abandoned church/cathedral 😔🤚 I'm guilty. Maybe it's in the middle of the night, and the sound of the rain hitting the stained glass windows could be heard while your favourite Demon is bending you over the altar fucking into you relentlessly leaving you gasping for air.

Since they’re Demons, they probably get this sick pleasure out of corrupting their partner in such a holy environment. They want to corrupt you; to have you sin under the ever-watchful Father all dressed in white. Maybe overwhelmed by their lust and love for you, they shift without noticing into their monstrous demon form; all horns, wings, tails, and sharp claws/teeth. Sweat beads cover your draining body, back pushed against the chest. Brow furrowed and heart rushing in your chest as they fuck you on every surface they could find in various positions. (I personally like to imagine Lucifer, Barbatos, Belphegor, and Satan in this since they’re my favourite.)

As for the Angels, convincing them to perform sexual acts inside a church/cathedral might be difficult at first, but I also think they might get into it once they try. But unlike the demons corrupting you, they try to 'purify'you in a sense. Confess your wrongdoings, and they will promise to heal you, cleansing your body, mind, and soul. Pray on your knees, take them into your mouth, and allow them to help you get rid of your sins. Maybe there's a twisted side of them that wants to hear you beg, cry, while they whisper biblical verses into your ear like "James 5:16 Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working." with their eyes watching your body intently, tears streaming down your face as you reach your climax. (Imagine this with Raphael asdhj@#%&)

Anyway, this was just my horny ramblings, I apologise daddy for I have sinned/j

NSFW MDNI

Wow, anon, please do not hold back lol. These are indeed some horny ramblings!

But it's cool, every smut piece in my masterlist is me writing out my own horny ramblings, so.

I'm glad you liked the graveyard sex headcanons lol! I thought they'd be fun for Halloween themed sexy times.

Though I have to say the abandoned cathedral/church is a whole other interesting setting! I like the idea of the demons being like, yeahh let's corrupt this place! LOL.

However I think I'd take issue with the angels trying to "purify" me. I'd be like nah, sorry, buddy, but I am gonna be the one corrupting you at this point. 'Cause I can't be purified a;sldkfjdlkfjdsl;fkj

The way I'd lose my whole mind if anybody ever quoted scripture at me during sex lol.

Anyway, I kinda feel like I can just let this ask stand by itself you practically gave me a whole fic right here!

[msneedful-ispleaseful]

A True Monarch

CW: Manipulation, religious corruption, religious sexualization (?), blasphemies,

A/N: This is my first time writing for Asa Emory, this will be written in 3rd POV and always, send in a ask<3

The church bells chimed in a beautiful synchronization, and every young girl ran around the aisles of 2-foot-long mahogany wood benches, tripping and scraping their ankles with carpet burn due to the white dresses with a big bow tied in the back.

Every teen girl wore their hair in braids with flower pins, and knee-length dark blue dresses, the fabric appearing silk, each one looking after a smaller child.

On the other hand, the young adult women wore mid-thigh thick black dresses with a big bow on the front, they were in a variety of styles, and the church was essentially, bustling with many groups of busy females.

They were told to make the sanctuary cathedral into utter perfection, why? well, the pastor's one and only son would be in attendance today. Many older women rumored it would be the prodigal son's first return since he was 15, well the age varied, but one thing was sure, he had been gone for a long time due to his refusal of the church in which his father so passionately believed, it was unknown as to why his return was now and so sudden, but you simply thought, who needs an excuse to come home?

Every Nun stood out front, the chimes of the bells increasing rapidly letting you know the guest was now arriving, everyone settled onto a bench until each one was filled, and then you, the First Lady of the cloth, and Pastor Emory walked outside to greet the Pastors son..

"What did you say his name was again?" you ask the pastor as you two stroll down the cobblestone pathway, your hands shake and your palms feel sweaty with nerves, you feel the pressure to impress since after all you were the standard of a perfect lady here.

Knowing every bible passage by age 10, being a choir member, a volunteer for the children, being baptized at 15, sworn to celibacy at 17, and joining the ladies of the cloth at just 20 was a huge achievement along with ranking your way to the top of the pyramid, you succeeded every expectation of a female cloth member, now the first woman to be the First lady of the cloth at only 22.

You were prized by the entire Christian community. "His name is Asa, don't fear his unusual views on our way of life" The pastor warns you in a smooth tone with a hand on the point between your shoulders.

"Yes, father, I have been made aware that your son does not belive in our one and true god." You are mature enough to still accept such a sinful man into this sanctuary though, when finally approaching the gates, you see him.

You never understood what people meant by calling a non-African-American person Tall, dark, and handsome. But, now you did, it was his presence as a whole that made your knees quiver and when his eye, seemingly black, glimmering holes stared you up and down you felt a shiver go through your core. As a lady of faith, you knew nothing of this physical reaction. Taking a deep breath you compose yourself bow and speak; "Welcome home, Young Master Asa" he chuckles at you and lifts you by your chin to stop your bow.

"Please, just call me Mr. Emory…" His voice had a crazed and sexy tone to it, even his soft laugh, but it didn't seem real. "May I lead you to where you must be appointed?" I ask and before he could peak Father Emory interrupts. "Please, allow me and my son to catch up first" You nod at his words and walk off feeling Asa's eyes on you to the church doors.

[pyro-madder]

Coucou! So for the ask game :

1.Favorite boss fight? 28.Least favorite boss fight?

4.Favorite weapon? 19.Favorite Old Hunter?

24.What do you think of Cainhurst?

25.Upper Cathedral Ward Y/N (je déteste cet endroit du démon 💀 j'ai legit perdu toute ma lucidité la première fois. 20-30 points!!!)

39.Hot takes on any Bloodborne lore?

Coucouuu :} let's get to it... it got long because I can't help but ramble, so I put it under a readmore :')

1. Favorite boss fight ? Micolaaash i am a bad no good fromsofter and prefer gimmick bosses over hit-and-roll-and-pray LOL

But really, between the chase, the insane OST (it's my favorite in the game, really), and his voicelines over it all... it's such An Atmosphere !! The downside is that once you've figured a) which path to follow and b) that he won't Call Beyond you if you stay close to him, it becomes terribly short and easy 😔 this said I'm obligated to say that I did not go in fully blind, so I understand those who struggled, and remember witnessing my brother raging as the man jumped into yet another mirror 😅

Special mention to when he starts monologuing just as you're about to pick up an item in his arena. *mashes X*

28. Least favorite boss ? Celestial Emmissaries. ON S'EMMERDE

They're not *difficult*, but they still hit hard and will get you if you're not careful. Music is nice, of course, but not particularly memorable to me. Glorified mobs... though I understand it's probably on purpose, given what lies after them. X)

4. Favorite weapon ? Tough one ! I love the concept of trick weapons as a whole, seeing the mechanisms and hearing the satisfying click when they change shape. There are several that stand out for different reasons, but no overall favorite :

Saw Spear : simple yet deadly efficient, I picked it up on my first playthrough and never put it down. But aesthetically, that's not quite it...

Threaded Cane : i'm a simple person. whip sexy. looks twice as badass when said whip is made of tiny blades chained together. extremely satisfying to hit several enemies mobbing you in one hit, and beautiful when you infuse it with an element.

Stake Driver, Whirligig Saw : i don't use them a lot (the former especially is tricky) but i adore their design and brutality. i tell you, i'm a Powder Keg at heart...

19. Favorite Old Hunter ? depends on how you define those ;

overall, if Djura counts, he wins by default of being my favorite character for many reasons : cool design, cool dialogue, cool weapons, very reasonable motives. i love how collected he is in all his interactions, he's seen it all and knows his stuff. also "uncommonly kind but dreadfully foolish" my kind of man fr /joke

if we're referring to hunters of Gehrman's era, then Simon. his hobo swag and needless dramatics have bewitched me body and soul. cool weapon also :)

if we're talking about summons : again Gascoigne wins by default of being my second favorite character (for less noble and nuanced reasons than Djura - he's just hot and badass). Closely followed by Damian for saving my ass against Ebrietas and the myriad of headcanons his title and gear alone enable.

24. What do you think of Cainhurst ? Welcome to the house of fun /sarcasm

The scenery's cool, the level and boss are... bearable once you've grown acquainted with them, but I don't like the Vilebloods (I say this light-heartedly), so meh tier overall. Stylish clothes and weapons though. 👀

25. Upper Cathedral Ward Y/N ? Yeah no. Pain 🤝

I also lost quite the insight here on my first run, and those damned buffed werewolves... for a boring boss and then a horribly hard one, for a chalice and a revival spot for a character i don't particularly want to do anything with...

The atmosphere is great tho. Loved the werewolves crashing in and swinging on the chandelier. Also, Damian is here. 🙏

39. Any hot takes on Bloodborne lore ? I'm just gonna repaste my "older sister rant" (which i had to dig up my archive thanks to tungle's super functional search function, and has since been pacified by Katy's theory that the girl in question was dead before the game started, thank you again for putting my soul to rest)

vraiment les premiers jours dans leur tag c'était je deviene fol.exe

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

This answer is for the Disney version, not for the original novel character, whom I'm not really familiar with.

Favorite thing about them: She's one of my favorite Disney heroines. She's tough, witty, and smart, yet kind, selfless, and idealistic, she's lively and full of fire, yet dignified too, she knows when to be fierce, when to be gentle, and when to be funny, and she's a brave, outspoken champion of the underdog.

I also like that she's sensual and sexy yet never slut-shamed by the narrative, just by the villainous Frollo (though I'll admit that portraying a Romani woman that way does have unfortunate implications; see below), and that she's allowed to not return Quasimodo's romantic feelings without being portrayed as clueless or ungrateful to him.

Least favorite thing about them: That in some ways she's a stereotype of a Romani woman. I wish that the filmmakers had taken more pains to portray the culture accurately, and not sexualized Esmeralda quite so much.

Though I appreciate that in-universe, "sexy Romani dancer" is a role she plays because it earns money (she tells Quasimodo that she wouldn't be a street dancer if she had his talent as a woodcarver). And I'm glad that at least she is a sympathetic, heroic Romani character, unlike in the original novel where she's a white girl who was kidnapped by the Romani as a baby. (Ugh!)

Three things I have in common with them:

*I have dark hair.

*I care very much about social justice and standing up for outcasts.

*I like to wear purple.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not stunningly beautiful and desired by multiple men.

*I doubt I could survive on the streets or as a fugitive from the law.

*I'm not Romani.

Favorite line:

During her duel with Phoebus in the cathedral, when he compliments her for fighting "almost as well as a man":

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you!"

And the opening lines of "God Help the Outcasts," sung to a statue of Mary and baby Jesus:

"I don't know if you can hear me,

Or if you're even there.

I don't know if you would listen

To a g***y's prayer.

Yes, I know I'm just an outcast,

I shouldn't speak to you.

Still, I see your face and wonder,

Were you once an outcast too?

brOTP: Quasimodo, Clopin, her goat Djali.

In crossover fics, I also enjoy seeing her interact with other heroines from '90s animated film, especially Belle, Megara, and Anastasia. They all have a lot in common, but striking differences too that could make them interesting foils for each other.

OTP: Phoebus.

nOTP: Frollo.

Random headcanon: Her parents were killed when she was very young, and Clopin has effectively been her father figure ever since.

Unpopular opinion: I don't think her lack of romantic interest in Quasimodo is because he idolizes her too much. She just doesn't have romantic feelings for him, and it's nobody's fault. She loves him as a friend, but Phoebus – whose maturity, humor, rugged edge, and fighting spirit more closely match her own – is the type of man she wants as a romantic partner. I agree that she and Quasi wouldn't have been right for each other even if she had been interested, in part because he idolizes her too much, but also because she pities him too much. (Why does the fandom criticize him for calling her an "angel" but not her for calling him "this poor creature"?) But I don't think that's the reason why she chooses Phoebus instead.

Also, contrary to what Disney Wiki says, I don't think she and Phoebus are about to kiss in the cathedral when Frollo bursts in to have her arrested. Staring into each other's eyes and feeling drawn to each other doesn't always mean "about to kiss." I think it's important that her feelings for Phoebus don't fully cross from wary attraction into love until he proves that he's a true ally, by (a) saving her with the lie to Frollo that she claimed sanctuary, and (b) rescuing the miller's family at the cost of his career and potentially his life.

Song I associate with them:

"God Help the Outcasts"

"Someday" (this is my favorite cover version of it, sung by the late Broadway star Laurie Beechman)

Favorite picture of them:

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Simon Schama: art versus the tyrants

From Václav Havel to Ai Weiwei, writers and artists have led the way in the fight for human rights

* * * *

Simon Schama: art versus the tyrants

From Václav Havel to Ai Weiwei, writers and artists have led the way in the fight for human rights

* * * *

I know a poem can’t stop a tank. But the reverse is also true. As I’m writing this, the streets of China and Iran have been alive with infuriated, chanting crowds, so tired of being institutionally deceived and robbed of any personal agency or independence of mind that they are prepared to risk arrest and imprisonment rather than be silenced by regimes demanding obedience to lies. “Culture wars” ought not to be confused with the laborious woke-baiting that has become the default position of populist media in the west. The women’s revolt in Iran is a culture war; Ukrainian resistance to the militarised fantasies of Russian imperialism is at root also a culture war, a refusal to accept Vladimir Putin’s contention that their nation’s language and history are a delusion. It is not accidental that one of the most powerful weapons that the actor-writer President Volodymyr Zelenskyy leading Ukraine has at his command is the gift of candid human communication.

Growing up in the 1950s, my baby-boomer generation assumed that the screamers of hate, the destroyers of culture, had gone with the war. “Well, boys,” our school history teacher confidently proclaimed around 1958, “we don’t really know what the rest of the 20th century has in store for us, but you can at least be sure of this: religious oppression and rabid nationalism are things of the past.” When, in that same year, Boris Pasternak won the Nobel Prize for Dr Zhivago, we thought that even the adamantine rock face of Soviet authoritarianism could somehow be cracked open just far enough for truth, memory and a faint breeze of freedom to be admitted. Even if Pasternak was demonised as an enemy of the Soviet people and forced to decline the prize, we believed that, sooner or later, light would return, as for a while, 30 years later, it did.

Becoming a historian was, we thought, a vote of confidence in the victory of the Enlightenment. When the civil rights movement in the US flowered in the 1960s, we bought into Martin Luther King Jr’s conviction that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice”. Often enough, though, it snaps. Four days after he spoke those words in 1968 at the National Cathedral, Washington DC, he was murdered in Memphis.

My new BBC2 television series is the fruit of sombre, late-life reflection that the History of Now was prefigured in the History of Then; that what we had imagined to be things of the past have returned to shadow the present and future. Shrieking, whether online or on platforms, is back; hate is sexy and stalks the world as “disruption”. So those old battles need to be refought, and with the help of the unlikely weapons that once opened eyes and changed minds: the soft power of culture — poetically charged words, images, music, all of which can, in some circumstances, exert a force beyond the workaday stuff of politics. Culture can do this because it can connect with human habits, needs and intuitions in ways that expose the inhuman hollowness of official propaganda.

...

What Václav Havel, in his most original and penetrating text, called “the power of the powerless” is capable of putting despotisms on the back foot, simply by being in sync with the simplest and most natural human instincts. Authoritarians can mobilise their heavy artillery of terror, torture, imprisonment and persecution; but in the end, Havel argued, they are not that well equipped to fight the asymmetric battle between lies and truth. Havel believed that the vast majority of people are not content to be forever walled within a prison of falsehood, where the price of material security and domestic safety is the unconditional surrender of personal freedom.

For a while — perhaps many decades — punitive disincentives against disruptive truth-speaking can prevail, especially when reinforced by visceral appeals to tribal loyalty: the demonisation of hate figures (such as George Soros) said to personify foreign manipulation. In the end what Havel calls the “trapped air”— a natural human wish to be able to speak one’s mind in a café, dress as one wishes (including visible hair), listen to unauthorised music, all the innumerable small acts of social defiance — can build into a rising tide of disgust. When Czech police infiltrated the underground concerts of the Plastic People of the Universe in the 1970s — concerned, as their saxophonist Vratislav Brabanec remembered, that the music was some sort of “black illness” that would grow and generate disaffection — they only guaranteed more risible contempt. But there was a price. In 1976 the band was jailed for months, a wound Brabanec says you carry for ever. Why the wound? “Because I was innocent,” he says over his morning beer. “I was jailed for playing the saxophone.”

[MORE]

[sacredsanguine]

WHAT WAS THAT. LITERALLY WHAT.

Ik i say this basically every week but WHAT WAS THAT EPISODE. so we're like, not following book plot at all anymore, which is cool (but I do wonder if the algid is gonna show up again? also if we're ever gonna see outside of Pheles! also....um, hello Val. hi. you didn't exist in the books. LMAO) this means he is free real estate for amer to revolutionize with sexy sexy chocolates

guys this episode gave me specifically so much food. like that parlan x sam thing I posted recently was a SIGN or something, did you guys SEE WHAT HAPPENED?? HE THREW HIMSELF OUT A WINDOW FOR MAT. i can't. Do I smell a revolutionary polycule? I s2g if parlan sacrifices himself for Mat though. ....

JOESME IS MAKING ME CRY AGAIN. we got like two minutes of esme being her og hot catgirlboss self (even if she was only flirting with enoch lmfao esquared gang rise up we have been BREAKING EVEN! gorgeous functional couple until they were back in the same geographic location) and then she got so soggy so fast. ughhhh poor jojo, emotional rollercoaster for him the ENTIRE TIME </333333

i'm kinda like 👀😳 but also like 😨👁👁 at leonora. i'm not the only one, right???

evil power couple tamwyn and leonora. how much do you think they're paying mads mikkelsen??? like a lot of the cast are unknown/newer actors and then BAM.

Cassius was having a Time this ep and honestly i cannot blame him. kid's gonna have some hella trauma tho. Dinner party from hell at the Remington estate except there was no dinner, no party, and i'm pretty sure he was just sitting there getting ignored/roasted by his grandparents the entire time before that??? ouch. at least he had Joel AND THE BUTTERFLY YARN BROOCH (my otp is fucking schrodinger's ship rn)

Nick. Nick Nick Knickolas Knackolas What the Fuckington. Sunday service at the Imperial cathedral is gonna be awkward. i'm not even catholic and that felt like Gooey (Glass Animals, 2014).

And POOR LUNA. Walking into the lion's den and taking IMMENSE psychic damage from every direction.

[jophinabean]

HI JOOOOO 💕 I just wanted to say that a) I’m sorry I’m just coming off a long impromptu hiatus, b) I see your mouthwatering ask, and c) it absolutely will be answered soon, I am like.. BURNING with it. I started making mood boards for the weddings last night lol. I may go way overboard with what you asked.

So also, if there’s anything you’re specifically envisioning, let me knoooow.. I’m thinking Jean like- outdoor. Under a willow tree. Eren, not too involved in the wedding planning; not because he’s a shit and doesn’t care, but because he knows your vision is best and he’s honestly busy, but he will do all the tastings etc. without complaint and with genuine excitement in his own way —- BUT you guys are touring venues and you go to an old cathedral some great aunt twice removed recommended- and he’s immediately putting down the deposit. Partly because he’s noticed some very convenient private corridors hmmmmm…

Hi Darya! I hope you're doing good! No need to apologize for needing time off, I totally get it 💕

Omg you're amazing! I honestly didn't put too much thought into the actual weddings, just the sexy stuff 😂 so I love that you're going overboard!

I do agree with you on all that though! I can also see Reiner having an outdoor wedding, like at a cabin in the woods that way they can sneak away to one of the bedrooms 👀

Whatever you do I know I'm gonna love anyway! Thank you for taking the time to do this! I can't wait to see what you come up with! 🤍

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Another year-end round-up: Top ten comedy-related podcast episodes I heard in 2022, but not using more than episode from each podcast, because otherwise it would just be a list of my ten favourite Bugle episodes. Put in chronological order from when they first aired, simply because it was hard enough to narrow this down to only ten and chronological order saves me from also ranking them in any other way.

1. The Bugle’s John Oliver era

Hosts: Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver

Guest(s): producers Tom Wright and Chris Skinner, I guess?

Episode #/Title: 131, A Miner Celebration

Date: 2010-10-18

Obviously, trying to pick just one of these is ridiculous. I got into The Bugle in March 2022, and it proceeded to define my entire year. But upon careful consideration, if I had to pick just one, I’m going with the episode in which they celebrated their third anniversary. This was celebrated together by John, Andy, and both their producers, which seemed very exciting. Producer Tom had been with them from when they’d started until he’d moved to Australia in early 2010, but in that time, he’d made enough interjections into the conversations to be a fan favourite, and everyone got very angry when he left. This was the birth of the “fuck you Chris” running joke that lasted for years, aimed at Tom’s replacement Chris Skinner, as people would start all emails to The Bugle with “Fuck you Chris” to remind him that no one could ever replace Tom.

So it was pretty cool when, about six months after Tom had left, Andy Zaltzman surprised the listeners by announcing that Tom was visiting London and joining them in the studio for their anniversary episode! As the episode unfolded, it became clear that before the recording, Andy had been to the pub with Producer Tom and Producer Chris, and all of them were slightly drunk. Andy Zaltzman’s comedy is normally so tightly written, he’s so careful to stay in character, that hearing him loosened up a bit was a delight. As was hearing all four of those people (John, Andy, Tom, Chris) on an episode together, as by that time, Producer Chris had become a favoruite as well, and the “Fuck you Chris” emails had become affectionate, though still frequent.

It opens with John Oliver playing a voice message from Rob Riggle in which he gets called both a “bitch” and a “piece of French garbage”, and Andy Zaltzman announcing that their guests will be a soundproof safe containing “the Pussycat Dolls, longtime Bugleizers, all of them, particularly Sporty and Baby” (“That’s not... it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, I just - I’m not even going to pick you up on that, it’s fine.” - John Oliver) and it only gets better from there. There are peace talks that quickly unravel. There is cake. Andy Zaltzman talks a bunch of shit about capitalism and God. There are four people who are all very relaxed and having a very good time.

Special mentions of other notably strong episodes of this podcast go to... I don’t even know how to do this since it’s all of them, but the ones where they talk shit about News International in 2011 come to mind. The major pun runs. The one after Berlusconi got hit with a ceramic cathedral and it made John and Andy happier than anything else ever has. Bin Laden’s Fuck Youlogy. The episodes after the 2008 DNC and RNC. Playing the fan-made remixes of bullshit monologues - Boffin in a Coffin gets lots of attention and rightly so, but I think my favourite is the date with Delonte West. Any episode that’s heavy on Tuesday night football stories. Losing their minds about the songs Honky Tonk Badonkadonk and Sexy and I Know It. Just everything. 

2. WTF

Host: Marc Maron

Guest(s): John Oliver

Episode #/Title: 298

Date: 2012-07-19

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode, but that does contain a lot of wandering into off-topic stuff about my own life, so I don’t particularly recommend slogging through it.

The point is that I do not like Marc Maron - I didn’t like him before and he hugely annoyed me for this entire episode - but John Oliver was so good on there that that made up for it. I really enjoyed hearing John Oliver go into his past about living in England, and talk about his influences in comedy. Not just other comedians, but things like his love of sports and Philip Larkin and a chip on his shoulder about class. It’s a really good interview, if you can stand listening to Marc Maron for that long, which I find it difficult to do.

3. The Comedian’s Comedian

Host: Stuart Goldsmith

Guest(s): Andy Zaltzman

Episode #/Title: 82

Date: 2014-06-25

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

Rereading that post now reminds me of just how hard it hit me the first time. It was, weirdly, kind of like hearing my dad cry. Despite the fact that, and I swear I know both these things full well, Andy Zaltzman isn’t my dad and he didn’t cry. It was just so jarring to hear him out of character, and he talked very candidly - surprisingly candidly - about all the things he wished were better in his own career and in British satire overall. All the things he’d tried and failed to do in an industry that kept making the same panel shows instead.

I assume some of the candour is because this episode caught Andy Zaltzman at a tough time, during the short window between when John Oliver had started Last Week Tonight and when he left The Bugle. They were will telling the audience at that point that The Bugle would not slow down just because John had his own TV show, but I think they must have known it couldn’t last, and you can hear the frustration in Andy Zaltzman’s voice as he knows he’s about to get left behind in the only thing he’s managed to make really successful. He even opens up a bit about jealousy of John Oliver’s far greater success, which is this sort of tension that’s been almost relentlessly unspoken the more it grows.

Aside from the personal stuff, Andy Zaltzman has some great insights into comedy: the process of writing jokes as creative as his, what political comedy can be and what it can achieve, what has influenced his work. It’s such a rare look at Andy Zaltzman being serious and honest, and he has so much to say.

Special mentions of other notably strong episodes of this podcast go to Stewart Lee, Mark Watson, Paul Chowdhry, and David O’Doherty.

4. The Things We Do for Love

Host: Isy Suttie

Guest(s): John Robins

Episode #/Title: s01e01

Date: 2016-02-11

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

Basically, this one was just enormous fun. It’s the second episode on this list that I’ve chosen partly because someone on it was drunk, which I guess isn’t great, but it was really fun. A properly drunk John Robins talking to Isy Suttie for an hour about teenage crushes and adult crushes and stupid things people do as a result. A lot of the humour came from how well they know each other, obviously with the same person having both a baby with Isy Suttie and a radio show with John Robins, and at one point Robins did threaten to murder them all for their sitcom money. It was a case of someone being totally unguarded - possibly too unguarded, and you wouldn’t want media to be like that all the time, I guess. But for one hour it was enormous fun.

I said in my post about it that I wasn’t sure if I’d listen to the rest of the podcast, but I did end up listening to all of it, and special mentions go to the episodes with Danielle Ward, Josh Widdicombe, and Bridget Christie. Those were all great, but nothing actually beat that first one.

5. The Bugle’s 4000 series

Host: Andy Zaltzman

Guest(s): Nish Kumar and Alice Fraser

Episode #/Title: 4050, Bad Boys

Date: 2017-11-18

Like with the other part of The Bugle, this entire enterprise has taken over my life in 2022 too much for me to be able to reasonably choose just one example. But I think, looking at all the episodes (and I’ve only heard episodes 4000-4200 - that took me to mid-2021 after that I took a break from the podcast because it was getting too close to the present and less escapist, thought I intend to go back and hear the rest of them in 2023), this one’s still my favourite.

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

It was a live show, and the first time Nish Kumar and Alice Fraser, the two most frequent guests of the 4000 series, were on together. It was the first time since John Oliver left that they reached that level of chemistry again, that they naturally hit all the running jokes and back-and-forth with each other and the audience, and everyone was having a really good time. I remember listening to that and thinking this is the first time it feels like The Bugle could be really really great again (you know, like America), and I’ve heard Andy Zaltzman say something similar later on, that it got off to a shaky start but there was a turning point where things clicked and it was around here. Everyone was in top form.

Special mentions of other notably strong episodes of this podcast go to episode 4161 with Mark Steel and Hari Kondabolu, episode 4189 with David O’Doherty and Tom Ballard, and episode 4191 with Chris Addison and Alice Fraser.

6. Tea with Alice

Host: Alice Fraser

Guest(s): Tiff Stevenson

Episode #/Title: Consent Cast

Date: 2017-12-01

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

I really enjoyed listening to this episode of two women discussing the gauntlet of experiences from casual sexism to harassment to assault, in ways that could go beyond the surface. These people work in the same industry, they’ve both been there a long time, they already know the basics. They don’t have to re-hash Consent 101 or whatever, they don’t have to address the question of “Do these bad things happen?” They can take it as read that they do happen, they’re a problem, and it’s worth discussing in more detail than that. They get into specifics of how it looks, how it’s responded to, how it feels, how it affects the atmosphere that’s felt even by women who don’t experience it directly. How it changes the choices and calculations they make. How they may have different opinions on some of the finer points of the best way to handle these things, and different women can disagree about those finer points while agreeing on the overall fact that this is a problem and needs to be solved.

Listening to this made me realize how, even though discussions about consent and #metoo are everywhere, it’s not all that common that you get a discussion between two women who have similar experiences, without any men there. It’s great to have conversations about this stuff that include men! There should be lots of those, and there are lots of genuinely good men who need to hear this stuff, and there are also times when men have useful additions to the overall conversation. But I think it’s good for there to be some conversations where it’s just women talking to each other about what women already know is happening, so they can skip the part where they explain the stuff that you don’t know unless you’ve been a woman in those positions (or unless you’ve listened to women who have been, which a lot of men do, and seriously, I’m a feminist who’s of the view that men can be feminists too, not just “allies”, I’m just saying it’s good to have some conversations that are for women and by women).

7. Mrs. Brightside

Host: Susan Calman

Guest(s): Mark Watson

Episode #/Title: 8

Date: 2018-07-23

Here’s a link to what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

I found that this episode was a little bit like the Tea with Alice one, in that it takes a subject that’s ubiquitous in public discussion these days, but goes a fair bit deeper than most discussions do. In this case the subject is mental health, and they both get very candid about their own struggles. About how it actually feels, what sort of things it can cause, what actually works and doesn’t in trying to respond to it. Some of it was genuinely hard to hear, because it got so intensely realistic, but I’m glad I listened to it.

Susan Calman is known for being blunt and direct about everything, including her own battles with depression, and Mark Watson is known for being thoughtful and analytical about everything. That makes a very good combination for an honest conversation like this one.

8. Who Hurt You

Host: Sofie Hagan

Guest(s): Mark Watson

Episode #/Title: end of 2019 wrap-up

Date: 2020-01-08, 2020-01-15

Mark Watson has appeared a bunch of times on this podcast, notably doing two-part episodes at the end of a few years in a row, in which he spent New Year’s with his friend Sofie Hagan, and they’d record several hours of the two of them talking about the year that had ended and the year that was to come. Listening to them all in a row is really interesting, but I think my favourite is the stuff they recorded on New Year’s 2019/2020, which they aired in two parts in early January 2020. These ones are a bit tough to listen to because they’re full of so much hope for the coming year, and of course we know all of that gets crushed almost immediately. But they both get into really interesting stuff, my favourites being the stuff about friendship and writing books and complicated relationships with the internet and social media. And mental health, all of those episodes get into that.

I’m going to be honest: I could easily have picked Mark Watson’s episodes for my favourite ones of the Taskmaster podcast and the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, but I didn’t because I already had to use his Who Hurt You and Mr. Brightside episodes, and I didn’t want Mark Watson to be 40% of this list. He’s just always so good on podcasts, whether he’s talking about personal stuff or comedy careers or what Hugh Dennis drew on Taskmaster once, because he’s intelligent and thoughtful and insightful. If anyone’s interested, I’ve collected all the Mark Watson podcast episodes I’ve heard into a Google Drive folder. Including all of his Who Hurt You appearances, and while I’ve picked the end-of-2019 ones as my favourites, if you’re going to listen to any of those I highly recommend hearing them all in order, it really rewards that.

9. Tiny Revolutions

Host: Tiff Stevenson

Guest(s): Armando Iannucci

Episode #/Title: 1

Date: 2021-04-06

Here’s what I wrote just after hearing that episode.

Armando Iannucci has made some of my favourite things. The Thick of It is, as I have believed since about 2009, the best TV show ever filmed. In the Loop is way up there with my favourite movies. Veep is absolutely brilliant and deserves every bit of acclaim it gets. On the Hour and The Day Today pretty much re-invented satire and inspired generations that would follow. I recently listened to that self-titled Radio Four show he made seven episodes of in the early 90s and I was amazed at how funny it was. Avenue 5 was... okay, I thought it had a lot of potential that was wasted a bit in season 2 and could have ended stronger with a more coherent plot. But overall it was very good. Death of Stalin was the best use of Michael Palin’s time in ages. The Armando Iannucci Shows are this weird surreal sketch thing he did in 2001 that are ridiculously underrated. All that without even mentioning Alan Partridge.

He also has an interesting story, with a father who ran an anti-fascist newspaper in Italy before fleeing the country for reasons that are related to that, and that obviously influenced Armando’s desire to Make Political Art. I’ve heard a lot of interviews in which Armando Iannucci talks about his background and career influences and how and why he does what he does, but I think this one is my favourite. It covers the whole spectrum of topics, and they touch on all the parts of the story I find most interesting. 

10. The Taskmaster podcast

Host: Ed Gamble

Guest(s): Sarah Kendall

Episode #/Title: 74 (discussing Taskmaster s06e07)

Date: 2022-03-31

Sarah Kendall is an absolutely fantastic guest on this podcast, and has been every time she’s appeared. She’s so smart, so analytical, so sharp with her observations. She really knows what she’s talking about when it comes to Taskmaster, her own season and the others. She’s incisive, can point out so many different things with one comment and leave Ed scrambling to keep up.

I think what really elevates this episode in my mind is a couple of things she said that just took apart Russell Howard. To the point where now when I see Russell Howard do anything, the first thing I think of are a couple of the things Sarah Kendall said about him on a podcast once.

Special mentions of other notably strong episodes of this podcast from 2022 go to episodes with Desiree Burch, Dave Gorman, and Mark Watson.

Finally... I’d love to not bring up the John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman Bugle reunion episode, on October 14, 2022, to celebrate the podcast’s fifteenth anniversary. I’d love to say that wasn’t one of the best fucking things I’ve heard this year, to say I didn’t listen to it on a bus, where I both laughed much harder than is appropriate for public transit, and may have sort of almost cried a tiny bit. But I can’t end this post without at least mentioning it. October 13 was my birthday, and this was the best fucking present I could have had.

[cutevirgo]

while i do not subscribe to catholicism tm big c church, unfortunately i am not able to unsubscribe from being irish catholic because none of them really believe at the end of the day u just get the generational trauma

[ofdarkestdesires]

Open RP Starter: Oh Holy Night

“Welcome to Her Holiness’ Cathedral~” Tifa cooed in a semi-reverent tone, knowing all the eyes that were on her had nothing but the worst of intentions behind them. Of course, with how she was dressed, she could hardly blame them.

Every year, the 7th Heaven bar did costumes for the full month of October, but the suggestion for such a lewd nun outfit was not one she’d been expecting. It was clear the patrons enjoyed the sight, though—she blushed as she caught a few whispers of what they wanted to do to the sexy nun. She shivered at the thought—they wouldn’t actually take her right here in the open, right?

“So, Her Holiness is willing to listen to all~ what would you like to order~?”

[doomh3ad]

this is something that's been on my mind ever since That Scene in Hellraiser 3, but could I please have a Pinhead + hierophilia (blasphemy kink) scenario? gender neutral reader please!

OOOO SEXY MAN AND SEXY CONCEPT i am so sorry this took so long 😭

pinhead + hierophilia (nsfw mentions under cut, blasphemy & religious themes, murder)

Stepping into the church was an unconscious decision. You weren't entirely sure how you found yourself here, but it felt right, it felt like a way to escape the hellish nightmare you'd been dragged into.

Maybe the priest could help? You try, calling out "Father!", seeing only a figure in a dim lighting, but when he turns and steps into the light you realise your mistake.

It's one of the creatures that's been hunting you. Pinhead is the name that comes to your mind. And his usual leather gear has been transformed; he's actually wearing the priest's robes, or a twisted version of them.

And it's sick, but you remember going to church when you were younger, and you sort of had a thing for the fine figure the robes gave the clergymen, and with the way the light hits him he looks reverent, somehow both holy and unholy.

And it's almost as if he knows precisely what you're thinking, because there's a smile forming on his face. He beckons you forth, and like you're hypnotised you obey, eyes not on the pews or the soft carpet beneath your feet but solely on him.

Pinhead will not preach the Good Book to you; he looks as though he's about to eat you alive, and you're a willing sacrificial lamb, taking unsteady steps towards the dais.

But he doesn't kill you, not yet. You don't even see those wicked chains appear. He's toying with you, it seems.

The stained glass windows make a rainbow out of the empty spaces in the cathedral, and the images engraved on them, ironically enough, remind you of hell. The story they tell doesn't resonate with you; when you're crucified, you will not rise again.

Or will you? Take their offer, take his offer, and become a Cenobite?

You're not sure if you have the nerve. Yet here you are, and you stand in front of the Cenobite, and almost on instinct you drop to your knees.

You swear he looks smug, as his tone drips with superiority like the priest's blood drips from his robes, "Praying? Or are we playing?"

It's something like both. It feels like you're standing in one of those confessional booths, like you did all that time ago, confessing your sins. Only you're not sure what you've done wrong, besides those painfully blasphemous thoughts of having sex with a demon in a church after he's just killed a priest. That probably violates one rule or the other.

Does he even have...the anatomy required to...?

From your position, kneeling in front of him, you trail your eyes up, further and further, and then they meet his own - dark and shining, hungry - and he knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

"How sacrilegious. Shall we, my sinner?"

"What, do I say five Hail Mary's then you let me go?"

"Hail Leviathan's," he jokes, and you know it's a joke somehow because of the all-too human way a corner of his mouth turns upwards.

He likes you. He actually likes you, and that could get you out of here with minimal damage.

His usual odd BDSM gear has returned, but with a noticeable change and oh my god he's not wearing pants.

"God? This is your god now," the cenobite speaks, and fuck if that calm drawl doesn't turn you on even more.

You have one last thought before you give in to what you want, what the god of a creature that stands before you wants - huh, this is a weird way to take communion.

And, admittedly, another question - are those pins and piercings... all over his body?

His voice echoes in your head at that, and you realise he could hear what you were thinking all along.

See for yourself.

[lisa-and-shadow]

Oooh!! I like the way your brain works. I definitely feel like the more powerful Evils would have their own sub-realms. They have too much ego and too much mistrust to not create their own lairs. And we saw the Cathedral where Mephisto was reforming?!? Astaroth straight up told Lilith that no one could cross the plains into that place without making a deal with him. And it required a special key. So yeah that absolutely tracks.

My own 2 cents:

I distinctly recall dialogue discussing Baal, Lord of Destruction, and how he "has had a hand in every war". (I can't remember where exactly but it was in passing with Lorath somewhere I believe. Or maybe the book.) Like, because wars cause destruction he is somehow responsible for them? He influences men in order to bring about wars. But he also feeds on Destruction as a concept, as though it has a tangible essence. I believe it has been capitalized as times as well.

And peviously in D3 we had Azmodan, Lord of Sin. He reveled in the classic sins like lust, pride, wrath, gluttony, etc. and in corrupting the souls of humans. His Lieutenants included the sexy spider lady Cydaea (Lust) and the farty giant mouth guy Ghom (Gluttony). He seems to derive power from humans failure and weakness as they succumb to temptation to Sin.

I've always interpreted the negative "concepts" in the world of Diablo; Terror, Hatred, Destruction, Pain, etc... to be actual magical energies that could be harnessed and used. We know the Lord's sustain themselves via whatever their namesake energy is. So long as Hatred/Terror/etc exist in Sanctuary there's just so much raw energy available to them now. Maybe their realms are also powered by that energy, possibly completely independent from the Burning Hells? Definitely independent from Heaven. Sanctuary is a delicious battery and the more fucked up the world is the better.

Diablo IV: Hatred vs hatred

i wrapped up a second playthru of the diablo iv story and i think there's something to the fact that there's a distinction the game makes between "Hatred", proper noun, and "hatred", common noun. i can't stop wondering why this delineation exists:

i don't think its a typo since a handful of dialogue options make a distinction between Hatred and hatred within the same conversation:

my initial thought is that Hatred isn't shorthand for Mephisto or Lilith, not a specific entity, but rather their plane of existence or domain. the game mentions a few times that demons can't be killed, hence the soulstones, that they eventually return to their domains to reform. if their domains were obliterated, would they also cease to exist? would the eternal conflict end if there weren't a Burning Hells or High Heavens?

this could also align with the idea that to be a "Lord" in the vaguely feudal sense - they're addressed as Lord of (the place name/land they steward). in this case, that land would be Hatred.

Donan talks about how a demon's essence seeps into reality from where it's held in a soulstone. maybe a demon brings parts of its dimension with it into Sanctuary?

either way, there's something here... i just know it...

[macabrecake]

Hey cake <3 can i request a lil blurb with RE6 Leon and Rookie! Reader where reader and helena dont exactly get along and he finds out it's because reader is jealous/has a crush on him swwiwnwiwnwi

OOOOOOH I GOTCHU LYNNIE 💕

Leon feels he's pretty intuitive at times when it comes to what one is feeling. Body language, voice tone, things of that nature. Well not anymore apparently because, for the life of him, he could not nail down a reason as to what has gotten into you.

This whole ordeal since you both temporarily partnered up with Helena, you've been acting very different. Really snappy comments, quick to irritation, giving the cold shoulder. All characteristics that are highly unlike you. Every time he asks though, you dismiss him. Maybe it's the stress of the mission itself, you're still rather new to this of course, bioweapons and the sheer trauma they bring is something he completely understands. Especially with the addon of how cryptic Helena is being. In fact, as he really thinks about it...

Your sudden streak of fiery temper has shown ever since she got involved.

Now he feels he's getting somewhere. And after finally making it to the cathedral in one piece, Leon sets off to confront you again. Helena beats him to it first however, having had enough of your antics it seems. That immediately gets his pace to quicken. But, before he could lend you hand, he comes to an abrupt halt when his name is mentioned.

"It's Leon. You have feelings for him, don't you?" Helena asks you, tone softer and holding a more sympathetic gaze now. And, even with your back facing him, he can see you practically wilt on the spot. Suddenly so small as you slightly turn your head away to stare down at the floor in shame. He hates the sight of that, hates the heavy feeling it places in his chest. That sadness just doesn't look right on you. But suppose it's better then never knowing at all. Sometimes the only one who can figure out a woman... Is another woman. Because that would've never been is first guess, truth be told.

"I can't say anything, it's not professional." You explain, "I'm still just 'the rookie' anyway." He doesn't miss Helena's eyes instantly nailing him down as she nods to you. A very clear 'talk to her.' Before leaving you with a casual, "Why don't you see what he thinks of that then?"

You're turning around to follow her while in the midst of speaking the reasons why you can't, only to freeze when you spot him. Literally a deer caught in headlights. He's careful to approach you, but unable to hold back the curiosity any longer. "So, what Helena said. That true?"

Instant fear, that's all that clouds your eyes when you stare up at him. You still manage to gather all of your courage however, "Am I gonna get fired if I say yes?" The question, as terrifying as it was to ask, remarkably rewards you with not a look of scrutiny or some other form of disapproval. Just the agent's eyes falling shut while he shakes his head as a warm chuckle falls from his lips. Leon's then quick to gather you up in his arms with a simple, "C'mere."

The action pulls a soft squeak from you but you do not hesitate for one second to hug him back, doing a marvelous impression of an octopus right now while quietly giggling into his chest. You then peer up at him, still a little shy as you apologize for your behavior earlier. "I'm not normally like that."

The man lightly shrugs it off with a smile, "Don't worry about it." He would leave it at that but he can't help himself as he leans down closer to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear, tone a much deeper octave now. Easily sending that adorable shade of pink on your face into a pretty rosy red.

"It's sexy.~"

[wri0thesley]

OHHH UR NUN READER THING HAD ME THINKIN REAL HARD……imagine pledging yourself to the archon of your nation, swearing yourself to a life of maidenhood as to focus on your prayers dedicated to the gods. and alas! your reverence is recognised, your blessings counted for, but what you didn’t expect was for the very god you lauded to descend from the heavens and fuck the worship out of you. you’re committing sacrilege! what a devious little devotee you are! but don’t worry your pretty little head about that, you won’t be remembering any of your countless pledges and vows when you’re moaning and twitching and begging for your god to please fuck you on the very altar you pray at every day.

you’ve worshipped for long enough, now it was time to return the favour.

(venti would get a kick out of fingering you in the church in the middle of the sermon frfr also apologies for the major horny sacrilege religion brainworms it’s so just so juicy and I must spread the gospel)

cw: sacrilege, fem reader (referred to as a 'nun' and 'sister'), religion stuff, dub-con-ish and power dynamics of god-and-follower fgnjbjgfnk

I SIMPLY THINK NUN READER IS A VERY SEXY CONCEPT; and i also happen to think it probably works best of all with venti (though shrine maiden reader and yae miko and the raiden shogun ALSO works exceedingly well). i simply also think that the deeply catholic imagery that's present in monstadt - the stained glass windows, the huge statue of barbatos, the fancy gothic style cathedral that dwarfs all other buildings - is ALSO very sexy!

venti hears every song that has ever been sung or will be sung; venti hears every prayer that you address to barbatos. and perhaps sometimes, softly beneath your breath, you add a little tune to your prayers - your archon is a god who loves bards and who loves music after all, yes? his lyre has pride of place in the cathedral! perhaps it might grant you a little more favour if you do - and it seems to work. you receive blessings far beyond any of the other sisters; everyone is always talking about how you must truly be favoured by the anemo archon.

venti just thinks you're so cute! he can't help but give a little extra of what power he has towards you. can't help but watch you when you go about the cathedral in your duties and imagine you in more compromising positions. you're always pleased to see him, too - a true appreciator of the arts, as all of barbatos' devoted should be!

so when he does decide to make his move . . . he knows of your prayers. knows of your fervent devotion - and knows you would never deny him anything. he frames it entirely as worship; you are free not to, of course, but . . . wouldn't you like the extra blessing? oh, your vows were made - but does what he want not overpower any vows, when they were to him to begin with? he makes sure you see enough of him - hear enough of his voice, his laughter - to link the bard with the braids and the sweet voice with the archon who has blessed you with his adoration; so you know that, when venti comes to you the next day with bubbling laughter on his lips and slips his arm through yours, here is your god made flesh and blood (or as close to it as it can be).

so who are you, little devoted acolyte, to deny him when fingers slip between your thighs, or lips brush against your throat. when he tells you he would like you to 'sing' for him at his own pulpit (clothes shed, without ornament, the way he adores you most); to kiss him beneath the shadow of his own statue, to breathe your prayers whilst he's moving his cock inside of you in an empty prayer room or confession booth?

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Suptober 13 Oct.: Morning after

The morning after the rehearsal, Dean realized with something akin to banked panic, was technically the morning of the wedding. Shit. 

deancas, mild horror + fluff, trippy evil mushroom au 

note: since today is 10/13, this snippetfic is also an homage to The X-Files s6 episode “Field Trip”

(1013 is the XF production company. yes, this is very geeky lol) 

(fyi that ep has a guest star in none other than Mr. Bobby Singer-- uh, Jim Beaver. Highly recommended 👽)

The morning after the rehearsal, Dean realized with something akin to banked panic, was technically the morning of the wedding. Shit. Extremely early morning at present. 1:07 a.m. according to his wristwatch. He should go take a nap.

The rehearsal went well, didn't it? He scrubbed at the back of his neck. All these new shirts for the occasion were itchy as hell. He was about to scratch himself out of his skin about five times an hour. 

Now that most of the crowd had cleared out, he supposed he should lock up. Seemed weird it was his responsibility – where was Sam, anyway? Some best man he was – but all right. The caterers would be back at 8 a.m. to switch out the tablecloths and reset the hall; Father Whatshisname (Christopher?) said he'd let them in. Kickoff: noon. Be there or be square. Jo'd murder him if he was late. Literally, with her hands around his throat and not in the fun, sexy way.

The sidewalk buckled under his feet a little and his stomach lurched. New shoes, still stiff with too-slick soles. Find the car. He detoured through the cathedral yard and skidded to a halt before he could trip into a bed planted with purple mums.

Cas was still here? On one of the stone benches by the memorial wall. Just sitting by himself in the dark. Head bowed.

Praying, Dean thought, and thinking it seemed to turn up the volume. The yard that had been silent – no cars passing or crickets chirping or wind, no late night television wah-wahs coming from the nearby homes – amplified Cas's quiet voice. 

Dean knew he should leave, or cough, something to announce his presence. But he stood, transfixed, and somehow heard every word Cas spoke.

"Please keep them safe," Cas said. "They both deserve safety more than anyone."

Say something, Dean told himself.

"Please." Cas's voice broke on the word; Dean felt it splinter something beneath his own ribs. "Please let them always be a home to each other."

No, Dean thought, this is… Wrong. He looked down at his hands in the dimly green, slanted light – a strange hue, like before a storm – and saw they were trembling. Cassie was going to fuss at him if he was coming down with the flu.

Cas had kept praying, more and more quietly, until on a sharp swerve of unnerving breeze Dean heard him say, "Please help me let him go."

Dean shouldn't have been able to hear him. He was too far away. 

Him who? Dean thought, desperately. Who is he letting go? He was wracked as though with a high fever, all chills and burned eyes.

Cas, he tried to say. Wait.

The bench was empty.

The streetlights along the road to Cas's house were all flickering, like fireflies. Really must be some sort of weather brewing. Dean wiped his eyes for the fourth or fifth time and kept driving. His throat ached and his chest hurt and shit, what if it was the flu? Cassie– Jo. She'd been pestering him to get a flu shot before everything but he'd just run out of time. Not like he'd known October was such a big month for weddings and everything would be a hundred times more tedious and more expensive, and that he'd wake up every day like he'd slept crushed in a vise the whole time.

He couldn't remember what Jo was wearing at the dinner mere hours ago. A sage green dress with long sleeves. No. Cassie always wore harvest gold yellow when she wanted to feel comfortable.

He missed the driveway and slammed on the brakes. Backed up and drove up to the door. Behind the house, the lake shimmered with moonlight. He couldn't hear it lapping at the dock; the sound was more like water dripping from a leaky faucet. His hands were almost translucent. When he looked again the sky seemed too near, filled with roiling clouds. He knocked on the front door and the sound boomed, echoed somewhere far away like thunder.

"Dean?" Cas said, expression full of worry. 

He looks so tired, Dean thought. 

"It's very late. Are you all right?" Cas asked, stepping aside to let Dean pass as he came in.

Dean smiled feebly. "Hey. Yeah, I think so." 

"Is something wrong with Lisa?" Cas's eyes were… 

"Lisa?" Dean exhaled, shook his head quickly. The room clicked, as though a clock was nearby, or a metronome, neither keeping good time. His vision blurred and he sat down on the couch as his legs weakened. "Why would– I haven't seen Lisa in years."

Cas sat facing him on a heavy wooden footstool. He'd gone pale, making the circles under his eyes darker. "Dean, what are you talking about? You're marrying Lisa in fewer than twelve hours."

Dean swallowed. "No." All he wanted to do was touch the vulnerable pulse he saw fluttering at the base of Cas's throat. "I'm not."

Cas went very still, his eyes boring into Dean's. "Why not."

Dean's head hurt. "Your prayer was the kindest thing I've ever heard someone ask for," he said, squeezing his eyes shut for a second against the room's glare. When he opened them again Cas was watching him, so much sorrow and regret in his face it almost made Dean sob. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop." 

"I don't understand how– You'd gone, with Sam, your mom, Lisa, Ben. I saw you all drive away in the Impala. Did you come back to the church for something?" Cas wrung his hands.

"No, they must've gone on without me." A single drop of cold sweat scored its way down Dean's spine. "They, uh… I had to find my suit jacket after Jo– It was on the back of the kitchen door?" But he wasn't wearing a suit jacket.

A look of pure horror crossed Cas's face. "Dean, Jo's dead."

"I meant Cassie," Dean corrected, and a blinding pain crack across his skull. 

"You're engaged to Lisa," Cas said, voice quivering with fear. "We– I fixed it. I undid the–" He stood up and paced. "She remembered you and you reconciled; you're in love and you'll be a family." He was having to speak more loudly; tree branches clawed at the windows in a ferocious wind. He ran to bolt the lock. The door rattled like it was wrapped in chains and being kicked in by a hurricane. 

Dean stabbed his thumb in the middle of his forehead, hard, and the pain subsided enough that he could breathe again. Something flashed in his vision – slimy coils like innards strung everywhere, and a cocoon binding him and Cas with unnatural ropes – and the look Cas gave him then told him he'd seen it too.

"What's the last thing you truly remember clearly?" Dean asked, clutching at Cas's arms.

"Thursday," Cas said, concentrating. "It's Thursday after lunch. We're going on a hike to see if the kid's story about the cave checks out." Dark, almost black blood was smeared in his hair and down the side of his face. He reached up, ran his fingertip along Dean's temple. "You're injured," he said, voice shaking.

"We're still in the cave," Dean said, feeling the blood oozing from where he'd been hit. "None of this is real."

Cas pressed his hand to Dean's jaw; Dean could feel the angelic healing begin but it was nothing like the instantaneous spark of heat Cas could usually command. This was a thick needle being pulled through torn skin, slow as torture. Blood trickled from Cas's nose and Dean was suddenly terrified for him.

"Stop," he said, tipping his forehead to Cas's. "Stop."

Cas rested, breathing heavily, in the cradle of Dean's arms. They swayed for a moment and collectively decided to sit down on the floor. Darkness poured in around them; the lake flooded into the house. They were dry, because the cocoon floated – but they couldn't escape it either. 

"They'll find us," Dean whispered. He tried not to think about how being held by Cas was the first thing that had felt right in a long time; how if this was his end, he was dying right where he wanted to be. He held on as tightly as he dared.

Just before he lost consciousness, someone yelled, "Over here," and the world burst open with light.

-

Dean came to in the back of Donna's pickup. She and Sam and Jody and whoever else had been roped into the search party were milling around in the headlights of a half dozen other trucks. Fire poured out of the mouth of the cave like a dragon lived there. He could see Sam's towering silhouette as he helped a guy in a haphazard hazmat suit do…something. 

"They're sealing the cave," Cas said. He tightened his arms around Dean. "They excavated the bones we tripped over going into that largest cavern, but it was deemed too dangerous to search for others."

"Sam?" Dean asked. He felt Cas smile.

"The GPS on your phone was glitchy, and Nathanial wasn't sure which cave his brother had been in. I guess that makes sense since he's seven. All the caves on this side of the park were checked. Apparently the other caves only have bats living in them."

"So what was living in ours?"

"Sam's theory is, some kind of malevolent fungi-networked forest spirit." Cas shrugged when Dean raised his eyebrows. "Iron dipped in sheep’s blood cut through the cocoon. Salt, fire, then filling in with rocks, then lead-lined concrete, maybe. Sam says he's staying a few more days to help figure it out."

Dean turned just enough to be able to really look at Cas. Cas still looked exhausted and bloodied. And wonderful. 

"You doing okay?" Dean asked.

"Better." Cas looked away. "When I was trying to heal you in there – it rebounded or something. Cracked the outer cave wall and pulled down a few trees. That's how they found us."

"It trapped us like a djinn, huh. Tapping into our subconscious somehow?" Dean's eyes started to burn again. "But both of us at once. And all screwed up." He laughed a dry little laugh. "Monsters always think they've got a bead on me and they are always fucking wrong."

Cas was also trying not to cry; Dean could tell by the way he blinked and clutched Dean more fiercely. 

"In case you didn't know." Dean leaned in as close as he could, to speak as softly as he could. "You're already my home."

Cas tasted like salt the first time Dean kissed him. Dean was pretty sure he tasted like salt too.