#they stull don’t talk

[lassie-farce]

1. Hawaiʻi with giant flamingos

2. Trying to cook ramen noodles

3. Chuck’E’Cheese

4. Backgroundless PNG for your own amusement

They're. just standing there.

[anactualcaseofthetruth]

Hello! I thought I would share a snippet of my WIP and hope that some nice reactions gets my butt into gear to finish the fourth chapter so I can finally post the first chapter (I want to be reasonably ahead before I do).

Anywho, I was tagged by @paperstorm

TK opens his mouth, and he doesn’t even know what he’s going to say until the words are leaving his lips. “I don’t want to be here.” “And that’s the first thing we’re going to work on, you need to want to stay clean and that means realizing this is the best place for you.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean rehab; I mean in Austin.” Dr. Z sits back in her chair, a satisfied look on her face. “Because of your dad?” TK’s hands start to shake, and he turns them into fists to stop the tremor, but it only causes it to travel up his arms. “Not my dad,” he finally whispers. “Then who?” His teeth grind together as he tries to keep the memories at bay. “I can’t talk about it.” “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” “You don’t get it. I can’t talk about it,” he croaks. “I haven’t—I’ve had a lid on it since I was seventeen, I don’t know what will happen if I take it off.” “You know what will happen if you don’t,” the doctor responds. A lone tear drops from the corner of his eyelid, and he slaps it away before it can crest the apple of his cheek. “I could ignore it in New York. No one knew, not even my mom. I didn’t have to talk about it because I could pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t ignore it here, it’s real, and it’s ruined because I ruined it. I—” he stops with a shake of his head. Dr. Z nods slowly. “Mhm, so it’s safe to assume this thing that happened… happened here in Austin?” When he says nothing, she goes on. “TK, I can’t help until I know what happened.” TK stands before she can keep pushing. “I can’t do this.” Surprisingly, she doesn’t try to stop him. “Whatever it is, TK,” she says as he reaches the doorknob, “you’re not going to stay clean until you deal with it. It doesn’t matter how bad you think it is, I can help you through it.” “That’s where you’re wrong, Doc,” TK rasps, his forehead pressing against the coolness of the door. “It isn’t that it was bad. It’s that it was so good I can’t stomach to even think about how happy I was, and what I’ve been running from this whole time.” “Running from what?” TK’s eyes squeeze shut as he forces himself to breathe. “Him.”

And there it is :) hope you all like it/want to read when I post!

I don't know who to tag because the people I know who write that I've spoken with were already tagged and shared.

Soooo open tag? and I guess I'll tag the people who reblogged my seven sentence sunday. I don't really know how all this works. haha

@strandnreyes @welcometololaland @lightningboltreader @ironheartwriter @carlos-in-glasses @liminalmemories21 @tellmegoodbye @sugdenlovesdingle

(if you want tagged to be notified of future fic stull lemme know)

[walker-extended-universe]

(Don't) Jump

Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Cordell Walker, Cordell Walker & Sam Winchester, Adam Milligan & Cordell Walker, Lucifer & Michael

Tags/Warnings: Episode: S05E22 Swan Song, Stopping the Apocalypse, Self-Sacrifice, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Hurt No Comfort

Summary: Gabriel senses the oncoming apocalypse and decides to quit being a coward. He brings Cordell along with him.

Part 5 of Henry Winchester 'Verse

Written for @angstober Day 21- Can't Save Everyone

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-------

It’s happening.

Cordell’s hands paused over the keyboard of his laptop. “What’s happening?”

The prizefight. Our brothers fighting over the planet, over paradise. It’s coming soon. I can feel it.

Cordell sighed. He’d known this day would come, but he’d foolishly hoped Sam and Dean would do something about it before it became a problem. “What do we do? Start prepping for the end?”

I can’t believe I’m suggesting this but… There might be another way.

“What? Like we go there and try to talk them out of it?”

It’s worth a try. Maybe it’s time we quit running from all this family stuff.

Cordell shook his head. “Do you really think that will work? That we can just stop the apocalypse if we ask nicely? I thought everyone up in Heaven and down in Hell wanted this….” He wasn’t sure what was left of their brotherly bonds would be enough to stop the will of cosmic forces.

We have to try, don’t we?

He wasn’t wrong about that. “Okay. Just- Let me tell Emily first. Just in case.” Just in case they didn’t come back. Just in case something went wrong. Just in case Gabriel was wrong about everything. They needed to be ready.

—-------

Lucifer and Michael stood in Stull Cemetery, ready for the final showdown. Neither of them truly wanted to do this- they were brothers, after all- but they had no choice. It was the way the story was written. It was fate, plain and simple.

Fate did not involve Dean Winchester rolling up to the site of the battle blasting his rock and roll. Nor did it involve their wayward brother Gabriel appearing in the nick of time.

“It’s been some time, little brother,” Michael greeted.

“I thought I killed you,” said Lucifer.

“Gabriel?! Why the fuck are you wearing my brother?!” demanded Dean.

Gabriel sighed. “Okay, in order. One, I’ve been a lot of places, Michael. Made lots of interesting friends too. Two, Lucifer, you are not the only person who’s taught me tricks. I’ve evolved since you left. And three, I’m wearing him because I needed a place to hide and he consented to it. Now, let’s talk Apocalypse. Or, rather, why we shouldn’t be doing this whole mess.”

Michael scoffed. “Gabriel, with all due respect, you abandoned Heaven eons ago. You don’t have a right to try interfering now. You lost that ability when you ran away.”

“And if you try to argue that you’re doing this to save human lives, let me remind you that you tried to kill me not too long ago,” Lucifer hissed. “How could you value these disgusting creatures over your own brother?”

“See, this is why I left Heaven; you asshats never let me talk,” Gabriel grumbled. “Alright, I admit I haven’t exactly been the most responsible archangel. I’ll own that. I’m an asshole. I’m lazy. I’m a coward. I run away from my problems and get my kick out of punishing people that I think deserve it based on my own metrics.”

“At least he admits it,” Dean muttered.

“Shut it, Winchester, adults are talking. Now, where was I? Oh, right. Now, I know I’m not the most responsible being in the universe but you know who’s even worse about that? God. He’s the one that fucked off ages ago and left you to run Heaven on your own. And you still want to play along with his little story when He’s not even around to watch it go down? Come on, Lucy, you’ve gotta hate that plan more than I do.”

“He will come back when we bring Paradise,” Michael said, ever the practical one.

“You say that like I’d let you win,” Lucifer snarked. “And who’s to say He would? Father stopped caring about us as soon as He made the humans. And I’m not doing this to play into His plan; I just want the earth restored to what it was before these monkeys wrecked it.”

“Again with this sympathy for the Devil crap,” Dean muttered. 

“Shut up!” all three archangels commanded.

“The point remains, Gabriel,” Michael continued, “You really have no room to speak on this. All the pieces were put in motion eons ago. This is just the way it has to happen. No one can do anything to change that.”

“That doesn’t really line up with the whole ‘free will’ thing, now does it?” Dean snarked.

“That’s enough out of you!” Lucifer rounded on Dean.

It was easy to forget how strong Lucifer was. It had been so long since any other angel had seen him at his full strength, even his closest brothers had forgotten. Even now that he’d been out of the Cage and found his true vessel, he wasn’t all that intimidating to the ones who knew him best.

How easy it was to forget how brightly his grace shone when he was full of righteous anger. Even Gabriel had to shield his eyes. Even Michael had to step back. He truly was the Morningstar.

Cordell screamed at Gabriel to do something, anything to protect his brother. But, despite his insistence on coming here, Gabriel couldn’t. He couldn’t move against Lucifer. Never could.

He was, in the end, still a coward. Always would be when it came to his brothers. Some things never changed.

So Lucifer beat Dean near to a pulp. Gabriel did nothing to stop him. Michael did nothing to stop him.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Sam did something to stop him.

Gabriel noticed Lucifer’s grace dimming first as Sam fought his way to the surface. Sam stopped the beating and reached into his pocket for the key. The key to the Cage.

“Don’t worry, Dean. I’ve got him.”

The Cage opened with a roar and the wind picked up as it tried to suck Lucifer back in. Just as Sam was ready to fall in, Michael ran forward to stop him. If Gabriel didn’t know any better, he might say Michael was worried for Lucifer.

Cordell reached for his brothers; Adam was the only one he could grab. Gabriel watched in horror as both his brothers fell into the pit and Cordell cried out for Sam.

Then, just like that, the door to the Cage closed and the ground sealed up as if nothing was ever there.

Cordell stood, staring at the spot where his brother once stood. Sam- his brother, his twin, his other half- was gone. In Hell. He felt frozen in his grief, barely even registering Gabriel’s voice in his head.

He knew he had to talk to Dean. He knew he needed to figure out what to do about Adam. He knew he needed to call his family. But he also needed to grieve.

“Sam,” he whispered, tears silently falling down his face.

He felt a presence next to him; he didn’t even need to look to know his older brother was there, staring at the ground and thinking the same things he was. He wanted to reach out, comfort Dean. But he didn’t know how. Even if there wasn’t this gap between them, sowed by anger and abandonment, what does one even say in this situation.

Eventually, the silence got to be too much to bear. “Dean-”

“I’m fine,” his brother said robotically. “Why don’t you just go? Go home to your wife and that apple pie life of yours? You don’t need to be here.”

The words cut him deeper than any knife could hope to. But Cordell couldn’t argue. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say before walking away.

A small distance away, he saw his half-brother, no longer commandeered by Michael, speaking to a dark-haired figure (An angel, Castiel, Gabriel supplied) before the other disappeared in a flash. Adam looked at the ground, dejected. Alone.

Cordell sighed and made his way over. “Do you have anywhere to go? I can give you a lift.”

Adam shook his head. “I used to. But then I died.” He laughed bitterly. “I shouldn’t even be here. I only agreed to this crap because the angels promised they’d bring my mom back. But…” He threw his hands up. “Guess that’s not happening.”

Cordell nodded. “Why don’t you come home with me for now? We’ve got a spare bed for you until you figure out what you want to do. If that’s okay with you.”

“I guess I don’t have that many other options, do I?” Adam scoffed. “Where’s home anyway?”

“Austin, Texas.” Cordell clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. We’ll grab some burgers on the way.”

“Yes, please. I’m fucking starving.”

Cordell chuckled and led him away. Then, he remembered Gabriel had flown them there. “Gabe-”

Relax, Cowboy. I’m on it.

[agent-gravityfalls]

Tagged by @lumalalu hiiiiiiii :3

if you get tagged in this, answer the questions that are written and make sure to swap out one (1) question at the end of it for the next person to answer. just to make it a creative group project bc why not

1. Are you named after anyone?

My parents bounce around archangel michael, my uncle michael, and the race car driver Michael Schumacher. I may try to carry some aspect over if i ever change my name to Jynx or just keep my middle name blu but idk.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I have no idea, its been a p long time

3. Do you have any kids?

no

4. What supernatural trait would you give yourself?

Shapeshifting would be super cool, i also think time control would be so so useful. But prob more shapeshifting

5. Whats the first thing you notice about people?

i guess hair but first thing that usually sticks is the way they talk and act.

6. What’s your eye color?

Used to be blue but now its p green

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I’m not very good with horror so i tend towards happy endings. I do like some more psychological stuff but i stull don’t watch that much.

8. Any special talents?

I’m really good at sneaking up quietly behind people, I think its because of all the running.

9. What traits in others draw you in?

Being passionate about stuff, especially less common stuff.

10. What are your hobbies?

Uhhhhhhhh i guess i play video games a good bit, OH WAIT DND DUH. Yeah definitely dnd and like other tabletop/board games

11. Do you have any pets?

2 Dalmations Carbon and Mercury who I miss so much

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

Recently I’ve been getting into rock climbing and have cycled and snowboarded on and off for a bit. as for have done that is an exhaustive list of things i tried for a bit then dropped but the highlights are a shit load of running, karate and fencing for brief periods and id love to get back into, skateboarding is fun but im really bad at it, surfing would be super cool if i lived closer to surfing water instead of like occasionally a great lake being decent for it.

13. How tall are you

5’9, 6’7 with my favorite boots tho!

14. favorite subject in school?

Architecture, mythology was also fun but i was super bad at writing

15. Dream job?

Some form of public planner/architect is what I’m working toward.

Gonna replace #3 with Place you’ve always wanted to travel?

Though i don’t know anyone to tag with this so if you see it and wanna do it feel free

[slasherhaven]

Hi I love your blog especially how accurate it is compared to other slasher blogs who don’t really portray the slashers as accurate as you. Could you do one where the slashers who aren’t as nice like Bo, Michael, and who ever else accidentally hurt their plus sized s/o feelings by jokingly making fun of their weight and apologize for hurting their feelings. (And possibly yaujta not realizing that they’d be ashamed or embarrassed about their body).

Hi! Thank you so much!!!

Includes: Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair, and Yautja (Predator).

Accidently hurting their S/O’s feelings:

Michael Myers

Micahel had never commented on your weight before, but then again he doesn’t comment about much...

He practically grew up in the Sanitarium, so there was a lot that he wasn’t exposed too.

He really doesn’t care all that much about appearances or what society might consider attractive and unattractive, he is simple attracted to who and what he’s attracted too. And that just so happens to be you.

He likes you as a whole, not in separate parts. He doesn’t see your weight as a negative or a positive, it simply is.

However, this means that he doesn’t really see a problem with mentioning it or drawing attention to it in someway. Especially if you’ve never mentioned an insecurity before.

For once, Michael didn’t actually mean any harm, if anything he was being...playful? But the playfulness didn’t land at all...

He had pinched your stomach, not hurting you (physically anyway). He was just aware of the soft flesh there, he didn’t think anything of it.

“Michael!” you snapped in shock, pushing his hand away. Then he knew that he had done something wrong, you were clearly angry with him, hurt on your face before you stormed out of the room.

He had never really given you a reason to doubt his attraction to you, most of your insecurity came from your own internal thoughts, but this just made you think that you had been right this whole time. Did your weight bother him? Did he not like it? Was he not attracted to you? Was he mocking you?

At first Michael just rolled his eyes and dismissed it, you must have just been in a bad mood or being sensitive. What could he have done wrong?

But when he realised that you were avoiding him and were still clearly upset with him, he figured that he had done something more serious than he previously thought.

So, he tracked you down to the bedroom and he won’t let you leave until you tell him what’s going on.

At first you didn’t want to say anything, worried that he would think you were being silly or just make fun of you more.

But he is persistent, not liking when you act strange.

So, you give in and tell him what upset you. He’s still confused and tilts his head at you to explain further, so you do. Tears brimming in your eyes as you tell him about your insecurities and assumptions that he felt the same way.

He didn’t feel the same way and he didn’t know why you would worry about something like that.

Of course he didn’t respond and that only made you more worried.

But Michael’s shoulders dropped before approaching you, placing both hands on your waist.

You were about to slap his hands away and question his actions but you didn’t get the chance as he lifted you up and tossed you down onto the bed.

If you truly thought so lowly of yourself and worried about his opinion on your body so much, Michael would show you show he actually felt about your body the only way he knew how.

Bo Sinclair

God, Bo is such an asshole.

Before you started dating, he had made comments about your weight, passing jokes and jabs that made you feel bad about yourself. You tried to accept it as a part of who he was, that it wasn’t personal and that he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but the words lingered in your mind and fed your insecurities.

The worst part of the whole thing was that you had started to fall for the man who you could practically call your bully.

You had actually been surprised when he started showing a more sincere interest in you, since he had been pretty awful to you in the past.

But when he started to show a real interest in you, the jokes and jabs stopped. He was no longer trying to make you feel bad because he had accepted his feelings for you and had started trying to be decent.

Then the two of you started dating. The past comments faded out of your mind, practically forgotten about.

Things went well for a while, until one evening.

Bo hadn’t straight out insulted you or anything but he had made a passing playful comment about your weight. He had meant it fondly really, though he struggled with expressing that.

With that one comment, all the comments he made in the past came to the forefront of your mind. Is that how he truly felt about you? Was he even truly attracted to you?

Obviously and understandably, you were upset by the comment. But you tried not to react, just hanging your head and keeping quiet.

He didn’t notice instantly but did eventually when you were being unusually quiet, asking what was wrong.

You were hesitant to tell him what was wrong but eventually gave in, explaining how the comment hurt and all the insecurities that his past comments had left you with.

“Hell, I’m sorry, Sweetheart” you were a little caught off guard by the flat out apology, it was a very rare thing to hear from Bo. “I was only messing around, and I never meant any of that stuff I said in the past...I was just trying to push you away” a part of you knew that but his words had stull stung.

“You know I think you’re sexy as fuck” Bo smirked a little, managing to earn a small laugh from you.

“You’re such an asshole” you shook your head at him, a small smile on your lips. You knew you could get away with calling him such a thing right now, he was in one of his rare soft moods.

“I know, darlin’“ he nodded along, making you smile some more.

“C’mere” Bo opened his arms for you as he sat back on the couch, inviting you down onto his lap.

Bo would make sure to not make such comments again and he would try to prove to you that he hadn’t meant all that stuff he said in the past, he would try to make up for it.

Yautja (Predator)

Yautjas are pretty much pure muscle but he doesn’t see that as the norm for humans. He loves you exactly the way you are, he loves your size, he loves your softness.

He doesn’t understand that it’s something that humans are made to feel insecure about, he doesn’t think it’s a flaw in the slightest.

He adores how soft you are and Yautjas are very blunt. So, he tells you that he likes how soft and squishy you are, maybe even complimenting his comment by physically squeezing your stomach, thigh, or other body part.

The blunt comment about your appearance hurt, you weren’t sure how to take it. You already worried that you couldn’t compare to his own race and now he was commenting on your weight, it stung. 

He instantly knew something was wrong, noticing the tears welling in your eyes as you excused yourself from the room.

He knew that he must have done or said something wrong but honestly had no idea what...

But he followed you, concerned. Asking you what was wrong, what he had done, and how he could fix it.

You were hesitant to talk about it but finally asked if your weight bothered him, completely confusing him. Why would you think that? Didn’t he just express that he liked it?

He expresses his confusion and you realise that he truly hadn’t meant any harm.

You have to explain to him many differences between your cultures, including some of the insecurities that humans feel. 

He listens intently so he can understand, instantly apologising for having upset you and hurt your feelings.

But he also goes on to explain that he loves everything about you just the way it is. He loves the way you look, the way you feel in his arms. He had spoke so bluntly because he wasn’t aware that you would ever see your size as something to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

It’s very easy to forgive him, knowing that he didn’t understand but also how couldn’t you forgive him when he was complimenting you so sincerely.

You’re mate will make it up to you and make sure you know how much he meant it when he said that he adores your body.

[alisonsfics]

mr grinch

pairing: enemy!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky have never gotten along, so you don’t want to spend time with him during christmas, but the grinch may surprise you.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing

You rushed into your apartment with your arms full of groceries. You and your roommates were having a Christmas Eve party and you were in charge of all the food. As you rushed towards the kitchen, you noticed Bucky watching as you struggled.

“No thanks, I’m good, Bucky. I don’t need any help.” You snapped, sarcastically. He walked into the kitchen, placing his glass in the sink. “I wouldn’t want to take all the fun away from you.” He shot back.

You huffed as you set down all the bags. You were so tired of dealing with Bucky and his attitude. It was Christmas time and he was sucking all the festive spirit out of you.

You and Bucky loathed each other.

When you moved to the city, you only had one friend, Natasha. You both were friends in college. She had a three bedroom apartment and was looking for a new roommate, so you moved in.

Little did you know that Bucky was the other roommate and that he would end up being the biggest annoyance in your life.

“I know dark and sulky is your thing, but if you’re going to be a grinch and ruin my mood, please just go away.” You groaned.

Bucky wouldn’t couldn’t stop annoying you. He knew how much you hated it and he loved to get under your skin. “You know you love me, sweets.” He whispered with his lips millimeters away from your ear.

His voice went straight to your core. You felt a chill travel down your spine. You hated that even as much as you hated him, his face was stull plastered in your mind late at night. Why did the assholes always have to be so attractive?

“Oh fuck off, Barnes.” You said, dismissing him. You grabbed a bowl to mix the cookie dough in, but when you turned around Bucky had already opened the vegetable platter and was happily snacking.

You swatted at his hand. “Are you incapable of not being a pain in my ass? Like Jesus, it’s almost Christmas and you can’t even just leave me alone?” You yelled. The smirk on his face only grew. He was like a child that misbehaved for attention. “Being a pain in your ass is my speciality, sweetheart.” He said before leaving the room.

You ran your fingers through your hair and let out an exasperated sigh. You had to focus on making the food for the party, but all you could think about was his stupid smirk.

When people started to show up for the party, you had been lucky enough to barely run into Bucky. You couldn’t handle anymore of his snarky comments.

You mingled with some of your friends, and you were honestly having a great time. You walked into the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. As you poured the liquid into the Christmas cup, you noticed another presence in the kitchen.

“Cookies are kinda dry, too much flour.” You would have recognized the voice from a mile away. You turned around with a death glare: “Would it fucking kill you to leave me alone? You and your constant nagging have ruined Christmas for me. Just give me five fucking minutes,” you snapped, heading back towards the living room.

Bucky put his arm out, stopping you from leaving. “Barnes, I swear,” you began to mumble. He smirked at your annoyed expression. He grabbed both your hips and pushed you back against the counter.

“Is little miss perfect not having a good Christmas? You act so spoiled all the time. Surprise surprise, I don’t worship at your feet like everyone else.” He growled. You noticed how close both your bodies were; you both were practically pressed up against each other.

“Go to hell.” You muttered, storming out of the room. You walked back into the living room and found Natasha talking to Wanda. “Someone’s all red in the face, I wonder who they were talking to.” Natasha said, smirking at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, thinking you missed part of the conversation. “What’re you talking about, Nat?” You asked, taking a much-needed sip from your drink.

“You and Barnes and all the sexual tension,” She explained as though it was simple. You nearly spit out your drink. Natasha normally didn’t talk about you and Bucky or your feud. She had accepted that you both couldn’t stand each other, or so you thought.

“Oh come on, it’s so obvious. If you both would just fuck out all those hormones, I think you both could finally have a civil conversation.” Wanda told you. They both sounded pretty convinced. “You’re kidding, right? Me and Barnes? He’d probably last five minutes and then fall asleep.” You said, knowing that he definitely heard your comment as he walked in the room.

By the way he made a beeline for you, you were sure he had heard you. Natasha and Wanda couldn’t even hide the smirks on their faces.

Bucky grabbed your wrist with an iron grip that was impossible for you to escape. He dragged you into the back hallway. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, pinning you against the wall.

“Oh, did I strike a nerve? Is somebody insecure about their performance abilities?” You teased in a pitiful voice. He scoffed at you. “If you could ever shut that little mouth of yours, I could show you how wrong you are.” He threatened.

His comment left your mouth dry and your legs shaky. He quickly walked away, aware of the effect his words had on you.

The rest of the night consisted of you and Bucky shooting glares at each other from across the room.

Natasha had passed out after drinking a bit too much, and then of course, like a true gentleman, Bucky decided to leave and let you clean up all the mess from the party. You had just taken out the final trash bags and had collapsed back onto couch. Your fancy holiday outfit had been replaced by sweatpants and a tank top.

You pulled your legs up into your chest as you sat on the couch. You couldn’t help but reflect on your situation. Tomorrow was Christmas and you felt all alone.

Natasha was going to spend Christmas at her boyfriend’s apartment, so you would just be stuck with the one person you couldn’t stand. You didn’t get to spend the holidays with your family or even your friends.

You felt a few tears slip out of your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, but the floodgates were already open. Then, Bucky emerged from the front door.

“If you’re here to make another stupid comment, can it please wait? I can’t take anymore today.” You mumbled, your voice cracking. Bucky’s expression shifted when he saw you crying. He sat down beside you and placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

You continued to cry into your hands, feeling embarrassed that Bucky was seeing you cry. You were surprised that he hadn’t made a sarcastic comment yet.

You wiped away the remainder of your tears and looked over at Bucky. “Thank you, I know how hard it must have been for you to not get on my nerves.” You said, softly. He chuckled at your joke.

“I’m sorry that I was such an asshole today, but I have something I want to give you.” He said, pulling out a gift from behind his back. It was the first time you noticed the large, wrapped box he was holding.

You gave him an uneasy glance. It wasn’t exactly normal for Bucky to buy you gifts. “Go ahead,” he told you with a polite smile. You still felt nervous, but you began unwrapping the neat present.

You finally got through the wrapping paper and realized he had bought you a camera. You quickly looked between Bucky and the box; it had to be a joke.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You asked him, confused. He just chuckled, even if he was being nice, he still liked messing with your head. “You’ve been getting into photography recently, and I thought you would like a camera.” He told you.

“Of course I like it, I love it, but I don’t understand. This had to have been really expensive, why did you do this?” You rambled. It took him a second to find the right words to say. “I know we’ve never gotten along, but I realized that being an ass was no way to win you over.” He told you.

“Win me over? Wait, what? Is this your way of asking me out?” You asked him, your eyes growing wide. He just nodded his head, anxiously waiting for your response. You didn’t know what to say.

You reached out and let your hand rest on his thigh. You noticed that you both had started to lean in. Both your noses brushed up against each other. You stopped yourself before kissing him; you weren’t sure if you could cross that line.

“Come on, there’s a connection here. You don’t feel this attraction?” He asked, grasping for your hips. A small whimper escaped you, not able to stand not kissing him for another second.

Your lips were on his like magnets. He quickly maneuvered you, so you were in his lap. You both were grabbing for each others bodies, eager to get your hands all over each other. He hummed contently against the kiss, getting a firm grip on your ass.

You accidentally pushed your hips against his, earning a groan from him. “Fuck, you taste so sweet.” He mumbled, sucking on your bottom lip. You tugged lightly on his hair.

“How about we go to my room?” He asked you, out of breath. A smirk spread to your face as you nodded. He scooped you up into his arms and quickly headed down the hallway.

“Merry Christmas to me,” you said, giggling as he set you down on his bed.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @bookfrog242 @buckys-doll17 @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @lovelokiqueen @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @heyamina @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @slasherbucky @sunwardsss @studentville-struggles @impossibleapricotlampbat @infjkiki @weirdfishy @lickmymelaninn @hailey-a-s @andreasworlsboring101 @glassesandthunderthighs @holding-on-to-my-youth @fanofalltheficsx @lukes-orange-beanie @mostly-marvel-musings @madisondelstan @spookyparadisesheep @beyondthesefourwalls @basicfangirlx @v-is-obsessive @i-wish-i-knew-what-i-was @reniescarlett @multiplums @alotofrandomfangirling @bbl32​ @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @stressydepressyandlemonzesty @faykyrie @dorothea-hwldr @cherryyxbabyy @lovethemfictionalboys @starsdancegirl @akumune @harrysthiccthighss

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests OPEN

[your-mom-friend]

Riordan Characters That Deserve More Attention

 - Alabaster C. Torrington. Do ANY OF Y’ALL remember this child? Son of Hecate that fought for Kronos? Introduced by Haley, Ricks’s SON?? From Son of Magic in the Demigod Diaries???? I need to know what happened to him! Actually, I need to know what happened to EVERY character in Son of Magic because I haven’t seen it addressed ANYWHERE. How are he and Claymore doing??? Claymore DIED and hangs out with the kid now what are they up to? Who even was Hecate praying to? Gaia? Some other deity? Did Al here ever find peace and return to Camp? Did he decide to become a neutral party that acts for what he thinks is right like some kind of vigilante? Is he ALIVE??? What about mistforms? We don’t hear much about them later. Burly Black too.

- Halcyon Green. On the subject of the Demigod Diaries, why doesn’t anyone talk about Hal? The cursed son of Apollo doomed to live in his childhood home with voice emulating monsters for the crime of trying to help a girl? His story is literally the one that introduced Annabeth to Thalia and Luke! What about Zeus’s magic nursing goat Amaltheia??? Did Luke and Thalia ever talk about Hal when Luke would try to bring her to Kronos’s side???

-The ENTIRETY OF KANE CHRONICLES. Y’all are SLEEPING on this series. Rick’s first really racially diverse book series and y’all SLEEP on it. Do y’all remember Jaz? Cleo? Felix? Bes?

-Gleeson Hedge?? I don’t see people talking about him much. Especially his FAMILY. Mellie? Chuck? Who are they?? Fandom doesn’t seem to know

-Tristan McLean. Yeah people add him in fics and stuff to explain why Piper knows certain people or whatever, but does anyone actually talk about what happened to him in The Lost Hero? Or the literal conspiracy against him by his whole company that made the circumstances for him and Piper to have to leave?

- Buford the Wondertable! Leo’s lovely little mechanical table that ran away because he wasn’t treated to his favorite cleaner! What an amazing little thing but you don’t see him in fanart and I feel sad for him so sue me.

-Leo. I know I know the fandom is OBSESSED with this wonderful science child but HEAR ME OUT. Y’all focus too much on how sad and traumatized he is and make the joke about him being slow in situations. Don’t get me wrong his trauma shouldn’t be minimized and it’s important but that is NOT his whole character. He could solve COLLEGE-LEVEL equations in like third grade. He pranked a nurse by making something to scare her out of the display at the doctor’s office. He stopped Camp-Half Blood from blowing up. He repaired Festus. He BUILT the ARGO II. He created it from a DRAWING of a ship he made when he was stull in Primary School. It isn’t fair to his character to reduce him to making fun of Frank, playing pranks and being sad.

- The Zhangs. Come ON guys the Zhang family history is literally so interesting if anyone bothered to look. Frank’s descended from Periclymenus, the Prince of Pylos who joined the Argonauts as their resident shapeshifter! That’s like, pretty huge dude. Also the Kane siblings were descended from Narmer, the first Pharaoh of Unified Egypt; and Ramses II. Again, HUGE DEAL. They have some of the most important ancestry EVER. The Chases are descended from Swedish Kings. No, I’m not going to get over the fact that these histories are ignored.

- Meg’s other siblings. Look at these KIDS! They’ve been manipulated, controlled and abused their ENTIRE LIVES. I sincerely want more love for them. I want to adopt them. They deserve a loving home. I like the “Gardening with Meg” thing. They deserve to have their lives returned to them.

This is all I can think of at the moment but feel free to add more. I know I missed a bunch.

[beetlebugdash]

My thoughts during Kuro Neko (it gets insane)

- Brazil cant understand

- Again, the baby

- Angry Adrien had my heart

- Stull don’t understand rose’s power

- NOT THE POUND IT WITHOIT LADYBUG

- I just know ladybug is talking shit about ladybug

- Camembert is not as stinky as the show makes it seem

- Robocop again?

- Excited to hear max doing the dub of this

- OI CAT NOIR!

- Even depressed he makes cat puns

- HES DEPRESSED STOP

- RUDE

- No

- Poor plagg, he’s having a worse day then Adrien

- Kim’s left hanging rip

- What if somebody didn’t get there before ladybug?

- Chibi 2d drawings beloved

- Pissed off plagg my beloved

- “what did I do” YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

- All the other quamis just getting tea

- DETRANSFORM I WANT SOME TIKKI PLAGG INTERACTION

- (it was now I got a follow request on Instagram from my high school teacher)

- NOT THE SOCK PLAGG

- AND THE SOCK SQUEAKS

- Smart but dumb idea ladybug

- Evil laugh hawkmoth my beloved

- I have too many beloveds in this

- Why do you individually delete the pics bro

- Marinette pulled her first all nigher! Proud of her!

- Hairstyle suits her

- YES, TIKI AND PLAG

- GET NATALIE SOME REST

- AND WHATS WITH THE THINGS ON HER LEGS

- Rip marinette’s pen after this

- THE BAGS UNDER HER EYES

- Cheesecake ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

- Marinette before finding another cat noir, brush your hair first

- HOW MANY TIMES ARE THEY GONNA SHOW THE HAWKMOTH PIC

- AND PLAGG PULLING IT AWAY IS PEAK MIRACULOUS COMEDY

- Plagg reminds me of a mermaid idk why

- Tikki’s like “uh huh yea”

- MARIO CANNON

- Statue Adrien 2.0?

- Cheese looks tempting but I like the determination

- Bat noir

- Plagg is an artist

- HAPPY ADRIEN IS BACK

- CMON THE LOOK IS A CLASSIC

- Where did plagg get the mini ladybug mask?

- We need marinettes help re designing a costume

- Think think think think

- COMMERICAL BREAK DARN IT

- The fact I cant understand anything is peak miraculous for me tbh

- Remember the days with the red text in season one?

- OH WERE BACk

- 10/10 land

- mEoW?

- Ugh now for the miraculous rules

- THE CAT IS ADORABLE

- “cat would know what to do”

- Angry kitty, would be better having real cat noises

- Hi hawkmoth!

- Bye hawkmoth

- Confusion

- My landry alarm went off at this time but idc

- A HAIRBALL PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

- I LOVE THIS SENTIMONSTER

- LEMME ADOPT THE CAT PLEASE

- THE BLUSH

- THE CAT IN THE BACKGROUND

- Stuttering marinette is back folks

- A noodle or a blanket? I can’t tell

- A blanket

- Why is the ladybug sense going off on cat walker????????

- HE BROKE FREE?

- That’s what you get for cataclysm

- “she doesn’t understand my emo side”

- I need this translated idk what happened

- Maybe ladybug realized she needs cat noir???

- OOOOOOOO THE HAIRBALL

- THE CHILD IS ADORABLE

- MIRACULOUS LADYBUG

- Fitting how the kid got upset bc of a cat

- Now time for cheese!

- ADORABLE PLAGG AND ADRIEN MOMENTS

- LADYNOIR CONTENT HAVENT SEEN THAT IN EONS

- I thought felix was showing up

- Welp

- Overall expected something better than what I got 6/10

[autisticandroids]

Have you already made a post about your issues with Swan Song or are they just scattered amond them

they're like, scattered, but basically my issues with swan song come down to the back half. like, the final confrontation in stull cemetery is fine, it's actually like kind of a compelling character conclusion even if the premise "dean allows sam his first act of free will: sending himself directly to hell for all eternity" is a little. skin crawling.

but then the back half of the episode once that's over is like. as bad as carry on. cas gives dean a philosophical thesis speech which is clearly just kripke talking to the audience and makes no sense for the character, then says goodbye forever for no reason, dean says bye to bobby for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON JESUS H CHRIST, then dean goes to live with his magical reward girlfriend who he has met three times.

like if you want swan song to be satisfying at all as an ending, cas and bobby have to stay dead and there cannot be a lisa. (this is why i enjoy sacrifice (but without the consequences averted) as an ending: sam dead, cas trapped in heaven and implied to be being torn apart by his angry siblings, heaven and hell shut, dean trapped on earth totally alone and without purpose, unable to even sell his soul about it).

on the other hand, season six is dedicated to deconstructing and playing with the implications of the bad writing in swan aong (or at least, the "lisa" and "cas is resurrected by god" parts) which actually kind of... kills. like swan song is retroactively a great episode because of season six. obviously i don't know how much of the lisa stuff was intended to deconstruct and how much was totally sincere but unintentionally revealing of some real creepy gender politics, but either way it makes the whole lisa plotline really interesting. and then of course cas being resurrected by god leads to this whole fascinating antichosen one plot where the angels see that and they beg cas to lead them because obviously he must be chosen by god, which is a really fun way to play with his resurrection, (though i must say it would hit a lot harder if raphael's suggestion in 5x03 that it was actually lucifer who raised cas in 5x01 was a serious point of discomfort and insecurity for cas in season five instead of a throwaway line).

[donniefinnerman]

under the cut, 1.1k i wrote a few months ago of michael and raphael talking before stull

At the edge of a lakeside forest on an island off the coast of Maine, Raphael waits. Before tomorrow, the lake will boil; for now, it laps unceasingly at its rocky shore. Sparse reeds, dimly silhouetted, rise from the water, and from the trees, a chorus of birds heralds the dawn. Of all the places he might choose to wait for the end of the world, Raphael thinks this is the most fitting. Forests, like all his Father’s creations, are full of lessons. They teach that all things have an appointed time to burn.

Lawrence sits nearly two thousand miles away, but even here, Raphael feels its weight like a slope under his vessel’s feet. The city is the drain around which the world spins. Soon it will all be over: Michael and Lucifer will meet on the destined battlefield, and Raphael’s older brother will kill his other older brother, and this godless world, broken beyond repair, will finally end.

Raphael has played his part. His work is done. All that’s left for him to do is wait. 

Without moving -- without having cause to move -- Raphael watches the sunrise. The horizon bleeds red; the sky bruises purple, then blue. For Raphael, this is the first time he’s witnessed a sunrise at this lake, but for his vessel’s eyes, it’s the last of many. Donnie Finnerman’s Sundays all followed the same ritual: he rose long before dawn, drove two hours in darkness, left his well-loved 2003 Subaru Forester at the trailhead, and went into the forest. He didn’t go hiking instead of going to church, he often explained to disapproving relatives. Hiking was his church. Who could stand here at dawn, surrounded by birdsong, and not feel God’s presence?

Raphael realizes, with sudden and sickening clarity, why he really came here. His wings twitch to flee, but he doesn’t. To flee would be to admit guilt, and Raphael can’t admit, not even to himself, that he doubted his Father. 

Michael believes He’s still alive, but Raphael has more faith than that. Their Father loved them too much to abandon them like this: lost, crying out for guidance, desperately clinging to what few plans He left behind. He must be dead, because the alternative—

There is no alternative.

The birds trill. The lake murmurs its susurrus against the shore. Raphael hears these sounds, and only these sounds, and he does not listen for anything hidden beneath them. Minutes tick by, each dragging the world closer to its end.

One moment, Raphael is alone; the next, he senses Michael’s grace five feet behind him, roiling with too many emotions to be named. Raphael doesn’t startle at his brother’s sudden appearance, but a flock of crossbills does, streaming out of the trees in a flurry of chirps and wingbeats. Raphael watches them go. If the flock flies east without stopping, they might live to see paradise.

They fly west.

“Raphael,” says Michael. His crackling grace belies his steady voice. “I can’t let you do this.”

Nonplussed, Raphael turns to face his brother— and his words die in his throat. Michael is wearing the weapon with which he’ll kill Lucifer: a human boy of nineteen years, pale and light-haired. The hands that will kill Lucifer hang at his sides, fingers twitching as though fighting the impulse to form fists. Lucifer will die at those hands. Lucifer will die. Raphael has carried the weight of that knowledge since his fallen brother was caged, but now it feels more real, more heavy, than ever before.

The boy is named for Adam, but his role is Cain’s. Sibling against sibling: the oldest story the universe knows.

“I’ll drag you back to Heaven myself if I have to,” Michael continues, after Raphael fails to speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What am I supposedly doing?”

Michael’s expression darkens, unamused. He closes the distance between them in three sharp strides, balls the front of Raphael’s shirt in his fist, and says, “I know why you’re here.”

Raphael is too bewildered to try to pull away. He looks at his brother, at a face contorted with anger and fear— and the fear gives him pause. Michael is the oldest and most powerful warrior in the universe, but whatever he thinks Raphael is doing, it scares him.

In seven hours, the first shockwave of the battle to end battles will turn the western hemisphere to ash. Only Michael and Lucifer will be able to survive it.

Understanding comes, and brings exhaustion with it. Raphael can’t remember feeling more tired than he does now. “I came here to wait, Michael. Not to die.” He shouldn’t have to say it. For five millennia, he and Michael have held together Heaven with fraying thread, the last two archangels in the Host; for five millennia, Raphael has been the one who stayed. And still, after all this time, Michael expects Raphael to abandon him like Lucifer and Gabriel and Father. The lack of faith stings.

Michael’s grip slackens. “You disappeared after Lucifer took Sam Winchester.”

“I didn’t disappear,” snaps Raphael. “If I was trying to hide from you, you wouldn’t have found me.”

The second it leaves his mouth, he regrets it. Gabriel’s death is an open wound in both of them, raw and bleeding, and the words are citrus and salt. Michael staggers back, dropping Raphael’s shirt. Somewhere in the distance, a tree cracks open, rent down the middle. Raphael doesn’t know which of them is responsible.

They haven’t spoken about it since it happened: the first time they felt another archangel’s grace shatter and detonate and die. In the terrible silence between aftershocks, Michael only said, He should have trusted Father’s plan. Killing Lucifer wasn’t his destiny. But Raphael knows his brother; knows him better, by now, than even Lucifer ever did. Michael blames himself for letting Gabriel run off, and he blames himself for failing, for five millennia, to bring Gabriel home.

(Michael wasn’t Gabriel’s only older brother. Raphael blames himself, too.)

Nearby, a large rock juts halfway into the lake; with a flap of his wings, Raphael takes a seat on it, leaving enough space to his left for Michael to join him. A moment later, Michael does.

“I didn’t disappear,” repeats Raphael, looking out at the water. “I won’t disappear.”

“I know,” lies Michael.

Nearly two thousand miles away, the first light of the last dawn touches Lawrence, and the morning star fades from the sky.

[satanisnotapogostick]

sam playlist liner notes

1. jesse got trapped in a coal mine – goodnight, texas

dean picking sam up from stanford in the pilot: jesse getting trapped in the coal mine

(he never DID marry his girl)

2. me and bobby mcgee – kris kristofferson

to me, me and bobby mcgee is about when sam runs away from dean and hangs out with meg before she outs herself as a demon

3. dorothy - mewithoutYou

“one turned into sr. Margaret, and I said "if you can change your shape that easily can you take the form of my dead father?”… then last night I was somewhere near virginia rebuking satan with ironic faithfulness. and satan turned to me: have you thought much about that cry?"

lucifer AND john themes???? yes.

4. life during wartime – talking heads

this song is sam adjusting to being a hunter and being at war, where he’ll stay for the rest of his life <3

5. this is how we do things in the country – slim cessna’s auto club

ok so this song is about sam killing madison. when you murder the girl you’re sweet on but it’s righteous and everyone thanks you for it. this is how it’s always been! this is how we do things in the country! (and also getting amy killed, a little bit, but that hasn’t happened yet. this is still early seasons)

6. clampdown – the clamp

“the voices in your head are calling. stop wasting your time, there's nothing coming, only a fool would think someone could save you… but you grow up and you calm down, and you're working for the clampdown.”

damn maybe we’re not the good guys. anyway!!

7. smith & jones forever – silver jews

smith & jones (salmondean) together!! forever!!

8. everything you did – steely dan

oh bro you slutted around with a demon and let satan out. what have you done

9. tortoises all the way down - mewithoutYou

“everybody knows, son. everybody knows what you've done!!”

just crazyass guilt song

10. up jumped the devil – nick cave

the tiger. he destroyed his cage. yes. YES. the tiger is out.

11. (ghost) riders in the sky – marty robbins

“then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride. tryin’ to catch the devil herd across these endless skies”

just s5 endless chase vibes

12. needle in the hay – elliott smith

demon blood detox time baby

13. emperor – mark lanegan

“why can’t I get right? all these demons to enslave me. who’s left to fight? oh, just the emperor.” the emperor being lucifer. obviously.

14. skating away (on the thin ice of a new day) – jethro tull

they have the horseman rings!! sam’s about to jump into the cage!! your world is about to end, but it’s okay!! you’ve done it!!

15. the passenger – iggy pop

and lol now he’s possessed by lucifer

16. the mercy seat – nick cave

okay now we’re at stull and he’s REALLY going to the gallows (jumping in)

17. when you die - MGMT

I imagine this song happening during the fall itself from stull into the cage. honestly this is a weaker entry but like. haha tfw you die

18. fifteen feet of pure white snow – nick cave

thee cage song.

“I waved to my neighbot, my neighbor waved to me. but my neighbor is my enemy. I kept waving my arms til I could not see, under fifteen feet of pure white snow. is anyone out there please? it’s too quiet in here and I’ve beginning to freeze. I’ve got icicles hanging from my knees, under fifteen feet of pure white snow”

you’ve even got icy temperature themes!

19. loverman – nick cave

yeah <3

“there’s a devil waiting outside your door (how much longer?) there’s a devil waiting outside your door and he’s bucking and braying and pawing at the floor and he’s howling with pain and crawling up the walls…. loverman!!! till the bitter end!!! while empires burn down forever and ever and ever and ever amen”

nick cave count: 4

20. satan it’s you – jett screams

@polishnatural recommendation. cellmates (and bunk buddies) with the devil in hell type vibes

21. relax, take it easy - mika

the war has already been won and nothing that happens in here has any effect on the real world. why not relax into the simplicity of it all!! (sometimes it’s just better when things are bad type vibes)

22. don’t lose your temper - xtc

we’re out of the cage! and starting strong with a mocking song bc he already lost his temper and grew mild and that’s why he’s too tired to fight. so this is the only hallucifer era song on the playlist

23. first wave intact – secret machines

war metaphors. extended wars. unwinnable wars.

“I wonder what you're waiting for. I wonder what you're working for. I wonder what you're living for. I wonder what you're dying for”

same king

24. mexican war streets - mewithoutYou

“but how long before our tails are caught by our "free" thought?” INDEED

“nature had another plan (& failed to run it by me!) nature had another plan, some other surrogate self to live in the sediment of so many somebody elses' innumerable lives and you were right: it's not a person who dies but worlds die inside us”

SO TRUE. we’re fully breaking into late seasons here

mwY count: 3

25. screen shot - swans

these are all sam’s meditation mantras. he’s offering a course: how to become okay with really horrible situations that you are also complicit in. “love! now! breathe! now! love! now! breathe! now!”

26. god’s away on business – tom waits

IT WASN’T GOD IN YOUR HEAD SAM

27. when the lights come on – they might be giants

when the lights come on (when lucifer brings you back to life)

28. light’s on

TWO songs about sam’s resurrection at lucifer’s hands??? yeah ;)

“the lights are on, you don’t know just who your friends are. the lights are on, and it’s light you’ll never know”

29. devil’s resting place – laura marling

I mean. yeah. his time in the cage with the devil coming back to haunt him

30. failure - swans

see my edit that I won’t link bc I can’t find. but anyway yeah. this guy fails a lot

31. last song about satan – slim cessna’s auto club

ding dong the devil is dead!!

32. president – max frost

@girlkingsam recommendation. late seasons sam vibes for sure. plus this song can be read as being about hell politics which is fun. I don’t give a damn who’s president (of hell)!

33. the road goes on forever – the highwayen

cycles of violence, etc. the road goes on forever, nothing ever (really) changes. (also yes sonny is dean and sherry is sam. I guess)

34. careers in combat – parquet courts

the namesake of my little fanfiction.

“there are no more summer lifeguard jobs, there are no more art museums to guard. the lab is out of white lab coats cause there are no more slides and microscopes. but there are still careers in combat my son!!!”

king of hell ending please please you’re nothing. anyway he’s been at war his whole life and war is his legacy. anyway.

[shirtlesssammy]

6x12: Like a Virgin

Then:

Soulless Sam is something else

Now:

A couple is enjoying a nice little chartered flight through an extreme thunderstorm. The woman starts to have a panic attack when she thinks she sees something large fly by the plane. She closes her eyes to relax when the man is snatched from the plane. This does nothing for her panic attack. 

At Bobby’s, Cas comes out of the safe room, having just confirmed that Sam’s soul is in place. Dean asks if Sam will ever wake up.

 Cas has zero patience with the situation. He doesn’t think putting Sam’s soul back was a good idea. Cas felt Sam’s soul --and believes if Dean wanted to kill his brother, he should have just done it outright. He says this all standing two inches away from Dean and then flaps away in the dramatic fashion of the time. 

For Why the Fuck Not Science:

Bobby pours Dean a glass of whiskey and shows him a potential job. It seems that while the man in the plane was found 17 miles away from the crash site, the woman was never recovered. 

Sam’s awake!

He doesn’t remember anything past Stull Cemetery. Dean tells Sam that he’s been back a year and half. And that it’s totally fine he doesn’t remember anything. He tells him nothing more. 

Bobby’s working on a car later and Dean joins him with a couple of beers. Bobby has some reservations about Sam considering he tried to kill Bobby ten days prior. He doesn’t think they should tell him everything either. Dean insists they leave it be. They don’t want the wall to crumble. 

Bobby and Dean are just about to head out on the place case when Sam pops up, ready to join. Bobby bails, leaving Dean and Sam to head out alone. 

Sam does research on the way and they discover that two other young women disappeared in the past week. 

Sam then asks Dean why he didn’t try to live a life “after.” Awkward. Dean admits to living with Lisa and Ben for a year, but, “it didn’t work out.” Cue cranking the music. 

The next day they take a look around the plane -lady’s room. Her friend explains that she was terrified of the plane but was just getting serious with the dude and didn’t want to appear uninterested. Back at the motel, Sam notes that the other missing women were “good girls”, and Dean whips out Penny’s diary with a theory. 

Sam can’t believe that Dean would steal the diary, and Dean is happy that Sam has a moral compass again. Dean reads from the diary: He thinks these women were all virgins. 

Outside a Catholic school, a student walks home alone in the dark. She hears a crackle of leaves and then the wind picks up, and before you know it, she’s on the ground screaming into the camera. 

Sam and Dean are later interviewing Melissa in the hospital. She tells them that something that looked like a giant bat attacked her. She’s got two giant gashes on her back and she’s missing her purity ring. Dean puts it together and wonders if she should have been wearing that ring at all. But let’s look on the bright side, she’s saved because she lied. 

This all leads to the question: “What likes virgins and gold?”

Sam’s research leads him to World of Warcraft websites --and dragons. Dean doesn’t want to dismiss the idea and calls Bobby to get a second opinion. Bobby’s opinion is this: “They’re not like the Loch Ness Monster, Dean. Dragons aren’t real.” He’ll look into it though. 

The brothers continue their research. Bobby calls with a lead: Dr. Visyak, Medieval Studies, SFU. Dean’s heading out, but not before dropping a thousand more nerdy pop culture dragon references --and then calls Sam a nerd before leaving. Gotta love that posturing boy.

Somewhere dank and steamy and cagey, all the missing people struggle to escape. As we watch, a new woman is added to the prison by a gruff, angry man. He melts the cage shut with his hand. 

Dean pulls up outside Dr. Visyak’s home. 

For Excellent Shot Science:

“Bobby Singer sent me” turn out to be the magic words. A beautiful woman opens the door and lets him in. She and Bobby share a History, capital H. Dean asks her about dragons (in the context of 12 sided dice DEAN YOU NERD ILU). Visyak tells him that there aren’t dragons anymore - not for 700 years. To kill a dragon, he needs a blade. 

He needs a blade forged with dragon’s blood and they are SUPER RARE. Fortunately, she happens to have a dragon-forged sword in the basement. She walks him down to meet Brunswick. Her favorite sword is currently embedded in a stone. 

Dean tries to pull the sword from the stone as glorious, crescendoing music fills the scene. He strains, and he makes faces and pratfalls and generally reminds us that Jensen Ackles should be in more comedy. Ultimately, he fails. 

At the motel, Sam methodically works on his CSI wall collage, pinning victim photos to a map. He takes a break from découpage to talk to Bobby. While dragons lair in caves, there are no natural caves nearby. Instead, they locate old subway lines and sewers. Sam deviates from the case to ask Bobby why he’s being so weird. Bobby insists that nOTHinG is wRoNG. 

Sam prays to Cas. “I’m back, so if you got a minute…” Cas flaps in and goes in for a hug. A HUG. a hug.

Sam DENIES the hug. Instead, Sam tells Cas that Bobby filled him in on everything that happened. Cas, bless that sweet clueless angel, takes that at face value and spills everything. He asks Sam how it feels to have his soul back. Sam takes this all VERY WELL, and continues to interrogate Cas for all the details.

Dean heads down to Dr. Visyak’s basement to blow up the rock with some strategically placed explosives. There’s a huge explosion and when they re-enter the basement vault, the rock is cracked perfectly! Dean goes to pull out the sword but…

DEAN. BEAN. 

Sam and Dean head out to the sewer system to find the dragon, broken sword in tow. They’re about to give up when they find a pile of gold. Dean grabs a handful of it like a good PRACTICAL LAD and shoves it into his pocket. They follow the sound of shouting until they locate the imprisoned ladies. The dragon confronts them, Dean claims he got the sword from Comic Con, and fighting ensues. The sword clatters into a grate and Dean’s arm isn’t quiiiite long enough to reach it. Sam can, though! As Dean confronts dragon number two, Sam takes out the dragon threatening Dean. The first dragon escapes in a rush of wind. 

Back at Bobby’s, Dean ecstatically picks through his rescued dragon’s hoard. 

Sam sits down and offers a heartfelt apology for all the shit that went down while he was soulless. WHERPS. They debate whether soulless Sam was actually Sam or...what.

Sam wraps himself up in his guilt blanket and presses Dean for details so he can make amends. They’re interrupted by Bobby who’s dropping a new chunk of lore. The dragons didn’t just leave a pile of gold behind. They also left ancient books with instructions for how to open a doorway to Purgatory. Intercut with this are scenes of the original dragon. He meets up with another shady character and together they force one young woman to a cliff in a cave. They read an incantation and the cave glows. They toss their sacrificial victim into the cave. KABOOM CRASH something emerges from Purgatory. It’s…...pause for dramatic effect…..the mother of all monsters. 

Natasha: It is INSANE to me that there exists not one but two episodes centering on missing “virgins” in this show. INSANE. Also, why does a mother require a “virginal” vessel? SMH derivative storytelling, friends. That said, I enjoy this episode anyway for its comedic moments.

The Quote in the Stone:

Being easy is pretty much all up side

Binding sword to stone used to be all the rage

You rocks think you’re so smart

Who doesn’t love sewers?

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[domesticadventures]

somewhere out there. 1.9k. (ao3)

insp: (x)

Dean wonders, sometimes, what it’s like to be from somewhere.

The question has followed him his whole life. He has been asked it by all kinds of people, but most frequently by those he has taken to bed, during the initial few minutes of requisite small talk they managed while they conducted a different conversation with their eyes, their hands, their feet brushing together under the table.

“Kansas,” he said most often, and he accepted the skeptical looks, sometimes their intrusive questions, comments on how he defied whatever stereotype they had in their heads. He doesn’t know if he should be flattered by their compliments or embarrassed that they saw through his lie so easily.

And it does feel like a lie. He has a place he was born, of course, a place on a map he can point to, but Lawrence is little more than an idea -- his memories of it are vague at best, obscured by the blurry unreliability of childhood even when they aren’t also lost in the smoke and fire. Most of what he knows about his birthplace he knows from going back after the fact, from walking through the house that used to be his home and fact checking, asking himself, did I remember this right? Was that real?

He was born there, and he returned there -- knows Stull Cemetery better than he’d like -- but he didn’t grow up there. Even when he isn’t hunting the people who might have been his neighbors, he is a visitor there, a tourist, vacationing in other people’s lives. He can’t look at local landmarks and say, here’s where something happened to me that mattered, and I think of it every time I pass by. He can’t say, here’s my friend who’s known me my whole life, who can pull out an album and tell you the story that goes with each picture.

He wonders, how do you know who you are, when you don’t know where you’re from? There’s a person he was at five, at ten, at fifteen, that he doesn't know, that he can’t remember. He wants to ask, who was I then? But everyone he could ask is dead, except for Sam, and Sam only knows that younger version of him as brother, as caregiver, as someone unwilling to break away from their transient life, someone unwilling to be as angry at their father as Sam wanted. He wants to know who else he was, and he doesn’t have anyone to ask.

--

“Around,” he would say, with a tilt of his head and a smile, playing coy when he thought it might work. And it did, maybe more often than it should have. Maybe the dash of truth in it helped.

He isn’t from anywhere because he’s from everywhere. He has spent so much of his life on the road that he knows the freeways like the backs of his hands, can map you a route from one major city to another from memory. He knows that of all the interstate highways, the stretch of I-10 through Texas feels the longest, just like he knows he’ll flag himself as an outsider there if he prefaces the names of the freeways with “the” like they do in California.

But once you get to the city streets, he needs Google Maps just like anyone else. He remembers, for that stretch of time he lived with Lisa and Ben, how she would drive around Cicero on its winding back roads so automatically and effortlessly that it had seemed like magic to him.

Most of that year had seemed like magic, actually, something wild and unfamiliar, ready to slip out of his control as soon as he loosened his grip, as soon as he misspoke. He’d had a circle of almost-friends, people he was friendly with but who did not know him, who never really could, he made sure of it. They would invite him to barbecues, to movie nights, to superbowl parties, and he would look at their enthusiasm in bewilderment as they cheered on their teams. He understood it, their fervent love, but only in the abstract, in theory. He gets how you could care about something like that, feel attached to a name and a color scheme after watching it your whole life, how you could feel invested in those outcomes.

But when you don’t have that, how do you choose? When you’ve lived your life out of motel rooms in every state in the lower forty-eight, every place seems exactly as important as the other. He may as well throw a dart at a map and root for the teams from whichever place he most cleanly skewers.

It was only after he left that he realized he was wrong. He does have places of particular significance, of course, not just Cicero but also Lawrence, Sioux Falls, the Roadhouse. He just wonders what it says about him, that the only important places he can point to, the ones where he made some of his happiest memories, also played host to most of his trauma. Who are you, when that ambivalence is the only home you know?

--

“Nowhere,” he would say, shrugging, hating what felt like the blunt honesty of it. Sometimes, they would take his tone as a dismissal. Others, they would take it as a challenge.

“You ever think about the fact that we’re not from anywhere?” Dean says, glancing over at Sam from the driver’s seat. “Not really, I mean. Not in any way that matters, not in a way where it feels like you know a place and it knows you.”

Sam huffs a laugh. “Where is this coming from?”

“Well,” Dean says, “what do you say, when people ask where you’re from?”

“Lebanon,” Sam says, shrugging. “Or just Kansas.”

“Huh. Not Lawrence?”

“No,” Sam says. “I don’t even remember it, not from when we were kids. It would feel weird to claim it now, I guess.”

“So, what, you just give them the place you’ve stayed the longest?”

Sam goes very quiet and still, looks out the window so he doesn’t have to meet Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Finally, he says, “I try not to think about where I’ve stayed the longest.”

It takes Dean a second before he gets it, and when he does, he needs to take a moment to do an unreal sort of math, to realize that, as of his last birthday, he has at last spent more time here than in hell, that that particular scale has finally tipped in his favor. For Sam, it never will.

“We’re not from there,” Dean says, hands twisting around the wheel. “We’ll claim this whole damn country as ours if we have to, we’ll claim the whole world. But we’re not from there.”

--

Sometimes people ask him--

“What is it like,” Dean asks, turning to face Cas across the pillows, “to be from somewhere?”

Cas closes his book, sets it aside. When he shifts towards Dean, he’s frowning a little, squinting in that way he has, thoughtful. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking.”

“What’s it like, you know, to live somewhere for millennia. To belong there.”

Cas gives him a look -- not offended, really, but gently puzzled, sort of like he thinks Dean is making a joke at his expense, or like he’s being a bit dense. “Is that what you think? That I belonged there?”

Dean’s face flushes as he realizes what exactly it is he’s just said. He forgets, sometimes, everything that’s happened to get to moments like these, this slow, unremarkable evening in bed before they tuck in for the night. In his defense, it’s a lot for one person to remember. “Sorry,” he says. “I guess not.”

Cas doesn’t look upset, though, just a little distant, a little lost in his own thoughts. “I wanted to, though,” he says, focusing back on Dean. “For a long time. Maybe some part of me still does. I don’t want to go back, but I still miss it sometimes. Is that strange?”

“No,” Dean says. “No, I don’t think it is. I think that’s it, actually. I wish I knew what that was like, you know? To miss a place like that, instead of just, I don’t know, missing the idea of it.”

“Ah,” Cas says. Dean can practically see him replaying the conversation in his head, putting pieces together. “You feel like you aren’t from anywhere?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, relieved that Cas has gotten there without needing the explanation, as he so frequently does nowadays. “I dunno. It feels like it should be a simple question with a simple answer, but it just...isn’t.”

“Mmm.” Cas reaches over, lays his hand over Dean’s, runs his thumb across his knuckles. “Well, maybe the question just isn’t one that allows for your complexity.”

Dean snorts. “Don’t make it sound romantic.”

“I mean it,” Cas says. “Given the life you’ve lived, how could you have just one answer? You may have a place you’re from originally, but that isn’t the only thing that’s shaped you. To get to who you are now, you had to go through all the other places, too.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“You know that I am.”

They’re silent for a moment, and Dean thinks maybe that’s it, maybe that’s the end of the conversation, but then Cas’ hand stills. He says, “Anyway, you’re conflating things. You’re trying to find meaning in where someone is from. But just because you’re from somewhere doesn’t mean you belong there, and vice versa. You know that as well as I do.”

“So, what?” Dean says. “There isn’t an answer?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cas says, and then he shifts, lets go of Dean’s hand to reach out instead. He trails his thumb across Dean’s cheek, slips his hand around behind his neck, down his back. Dean moves easily, willingly, sliding closer until he’s flush against Cas, head tucked under his chin.

“What are you saying, then?”

Cas presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Maybe you’re just asking the wrong question.”

--

Dean is from a lot of places. He’s from Lawrence, Kansas, and from a bunker a few miles outside Lebanon. He’s from Cicero, Indiana and Sioux Falls, South Dakota and the Roadhouse that once existed on the back roads of Nebraska. He’s from a thousand places across the United States, small towns whose names he doesn’t remember, city streets and country roads he needs help to navigate and freeways he doesn’t. He’s from hell, like it or not, and from purgatory, and a little bit from heaven, too. It’s a long list.

But there’s another list to be made, one he’s still working on because the items on it are harder to identify, because they can’t be pointed out on a globe or entered into Google. They have to be mapped out over a lifetime.

Dean is asking himself where he belongs, and making a list of the answers:

In the Impala, driving somewhere or nowhere, preferably with someone he loves in the passenger seat.

Seated around the dinner table with his family, a meal he made laid out in front of them.

In those precious moments after a successful hunt, sweaty and dirty and alive.

Making Sam soup when he’s sick and making fun of his hair when he’s not.

Wrapped in a hug by a friend he hasn’t seen in a while.

Curled around Cas in their bed.

Here.

[scarecrowmax]

Pt 22 to my Emma Lives AU plot requested by regnumveritatis on AO3

Emma hated having Chuck in the bunker, God or not he was annoying and disruptive to the flow of their lives. Plus he never seemed to wash his own dishes and she was half tempted to break his stupid #1 Dad mug over his head. #1 Deadbeat maybe, but #1 Dad he is not, she had only met a few angels for any length of time but she knew enough that he'd royally screwed the lot of them up in one way or another. Cas absolutely felt abandoned by him and would get the same kind of look on his face at times when God was brought up as Dean did when her grandfather was brought up and that told her enough right there. She'd read John's journal and if God was anything like John, then well, a mug would be the least he'd be owed. The main thing that kept her from doing it was the fact that he said he could help them with Amara, and getting rid of her was too important to ruin their chance on that. 

She only felt more off-kilter when Lucifer arrived wearing Cas, if there was any way she could kill him without hurting Cas she would, she hated seeing Cas used like that. She knew he had to have been completely tricked by him. And she could see how Sam flinched any time Lucifer got near him, her dad had told her the basics and she knew not to ask Sam but she wished she knew just what he'd done to her uncle so she didn't risk making it worse when he was dealing with the memories of it all.

Trying to do family therapy with Lucifer and God just felt ridiculous, how do you help them get past all their shit also, how can you possibly fix millennia of abandonment/daddy issues? Lucifer was just throwing barbs and trying to get attention and an apology for the cage and everything else but Chuck wouldn't do it. 

Emma finally interjected, knowing they weren't actually getting anywhere and that direct accusations from a neutral party could help. "You gave Lucifer the mark when you guys sealed up your sister right? Didn't you have some understanding of what that would do? Isn't it your fault he's like this? I mean I read the books, when he was facing Michael in Stull he did say something about you wanting an adversary, was he right about all that?" 

At nearly the same time Lucifer said "Thank you!" And Dean panic asked "You read the books?" aware of just what kinds of things had made it into the ones he'd read when they first discovered them.

"Charlie told me what stuff to avoid before giving them to me, don't worry."

Chuck huffed annoyed, "How could I have known that? I'd never done anything like that, I can only foresee things to a degree based on past knowledge. I just have more knowledge than other people and can see it that way. Definitely didn't foresee you though, would've thought that would go differently."

That last bit hit her like a slap to the face. Did he mean it like he would have expected her to kill her dad or for them to have killed her? Odds are he meant the latter based on how well he knew Sam and her Dad. The rest of the conversation had Lucifer leaving to put on the moody teen act, and Emma took the opportunity to slip away to the kitchen. It was far enough away from both Chuck and Lucifer that she could collect herself. She was losing it just a little and she didn't want to be. Didn't want to think about the fact that God pretty much just said she was supposed to die that day in the motel room. She was supposed to have died at three days old and she couldn't get that out of her head. She really wished Cas was around, he always seemed to know what to say when he caught her after nightmares about that somehow. She could call Benny or Gath, but they probably wouldn't be quite as comforting to talk to about this over the phone as they would be in person. Maybe she could call Jody, but she was probably working and she didn't want to interrupt her. Thankfully Dean chose that moment to walk in. He saw the look on her face and just pulled her in for a hug, she had the back of his flannel fisted in her hand, and was almost in tears.

"It never woulda gone differently kiddo, you're my kid and I love you okay. Always have, always will. Loved you since the moment I saw you in your crib."

That simple statement said it all, he loved her before he even knew for sure she was his. He was her dad, always would be, and would never kill her. Even at his worst, his most demonic, he didn’t do it. Chuck was wrong and she just had to hold onto that, her existence defied God’s knowledge and she was good with that.

It all went to shit again when her dad offered to be the vessel for a soul based bomb to kill Amara. She wanted to scream, couldn’t things be okay for five friggin minutes? Did she have to lose him again? After everything, she knew he blamed himself for her being let out but Emma also blamed herself. She was the one who had pushed Sam to try and find a way to get rid of the mark because she was scared. She was just as culpable as him and if there was any way he'd let her do it she'd be the one going for Amara. Even Crowley and Rowena could tell how much it hurt her to see her dad offering himself up like it was nothing. Charlie, Benny, and Meg weren't there to talk sense into Dean, Sam understood his guilt and was willing to let him do it, Rowena didn't care enough about him to stop him, and Crowley wasn't going to stop him either he just put his hand on Emma's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. If only Cas would just tell him not to do it, Cas could convince him to stop but he didn't say anything. He didn't stop him this time and she felt like her world was ending.

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and him joking about what kind of funeral he wanted was too much. 

She knew she'd be safe but him asking her to try and be happy was almost too much. How could she be with a hole in her heart that big? He knew what it was like to lose a parent, how could he be selfish enough to leave her voluntarily. She knew he was destroyed by his dad doing the same, how screwed up Sam had been when Dean made that deal, how could she not be just as messed up by him doing this? His parting words weren't good enough to be his last, no words really could be though. It was gonna feel like she'd been ripped apart no matter what.

 After he left they all scattered a bit. She needed to get out of the bunker, get away from it all for a bit, she left a note for Sam and Cas saying what she was doing and jumped in her car and drove off for Benny's. But it felt like Dean was still there, getting out of the bunker didn't let her escape the memories because they had fixed up her car together, they went on the inaugural drive together, he was everywhere and she knew he was heading off to die. She had to pull off the road because her tears had clouded her eyes too much to safely drive. She wiped away the tears and angrily smacked the wheel wishing things were different, that her dad wasn't about to sacrifice himself. She just wished that everything was different. But it was what it was, and she couldn't change anything. She just hoped being around Benny would help, someone had to tell him what happened at any rate. She’d let Sam make the calls to Jody and the others, she couldn’t handle doing that, telling Benny would be hard enough.

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Also now on AO3

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Ripped Apart: Pt. 2

Kinktober: Day 16, Impact Play

Loki x Reader

The hatred continues as the longing grows.

Warnings: smut, violence, angst

Part 1 Part 3

After your first encounter, you wanted nothing more than for hm to slam you against a wall. It had been awful the first time, and at first you sure you never wanted to repeat it. It was awful, he was awful, except he hadn’t been. He had been the best sex you had had in a long time, and to repeat it would be nothing short of a dream.

You found yourself thinking about it every time he entered the room. The way you left your encounter bruised, beaten, and hungry for more. You would watch hum from wherever you were perched, casting your eyes downward when his angry gaze swept over you. You were stull unsure why he hated you in the first place, but you wanted nothing more than to experience his hatred again.

When you first dreamt about it you punched a wall. What the absolute fuck. The night after you drank yourself into a stupor so you wouldn’t dream, but that only made it worse. It was more vivid, and you woke, throwing up all over your floor.

And now you were about to fight, he was about to have his hands all over you again, per Stark’s orders. He had said it would be good for you, a hand at fighting someone stronger than yourself. He was looking at you, hatred still clear in his eyes, like he was going to do all in his power to rip you apart. God, you hoped he would.

You stepped onto the practice mat, flexing your knuckles, warily watching as he did the same. It was strange seeing him out of his normal suits and in sweatpants that hung quite deliciously off his hips. His biceps flexed without him trying and wry eyes studied you with contempt.

“I hope I’m not too much for you,” he said, voice cold and unforgiving as he flipped you with a flick of his fingers. You hit the ground with a thud and pain shot through your body, but that wasn’t all that went through you. You quickly stood finger stretched out in front of you.

“No magic,” you demanded, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t ever remember deciding to take orders from you.”

“Well, today’s the day you learn.” He flipped you again as you charged forward.

“Am I?”

“Yes. You’re going to flip me with your bare hands or not at all.” He stood over you, grinning deliciously. No, maliciously, certainly not deliciously.

“And who’s going to make me?” he asked and with a sweep of your leg he landed on the ground beside you. It was exhilarating to have him on top of you, even if he was trying to murder you.

“Me,” you laughed. He grabbed you and slammed you onto the mat on the other side of him. He towered over you, a punch came towards your face, but you dodged, and it hit the mat beside you.

“I should kill you,” he growled. You smirked and slid out from underneath him even though you certainly didn’t want to.

“I wish you would,” you laughed, dancing around him as he stood with ease and grace. He cocked a brow, more curious than anything. You silently cursed yourself as you dodged another one of his attacks. Thinking about the bruises and the hate bites was one thing but admitting how much you wanted them out loud was something entirely different.

“You wish I would what, silly girl?” he asked, but you ignored him. Punching him as hard as you could but he caught your arm and flipped you the ground, this time with his bare hands, just as you had demanded. It was different when he did it with his hands. While you had enjoyed it when he did it with the flick of his wrist you liked even more when he did with his hands. You couldn’t be mad about the hitting the ground when he did it like that. You yanked him down beside you, sweeping your leg beneath his feet once more and grabbing his arm. He landed on top of you, the air rushing out of your stomach with a great push. He jabbed his elbow into your side and this time you cried out as it touched the parts of you that had already suffered great injury.

He hesitated for a brief moment, but then hit it again, eliciting another cry. Your mind filled with pleasure, pain, and great blinding light as you struggled to gain your wits in order to fight back, but he just kept hitting it until you couldn’t stop from screaming. He really did stop then, his blue eyes staring down at you.

“Get off,” you snarled. It was easy to push him off with how startled he was. You limped towards the mirror, pulling your shirt over your ribs. It was black and blue and sickly green from old injuries.

“Y/N,” he began but you batted him away, wincing from the movement. Your ribs had just begun to heal and here you were allowing him to damage you again.  

“It’s not a big deal, just checking to make sure it’s alright,” you replied, voice shaking from the ache. He touched it and you whirled around, wincing as you did so. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked pressing against it. You yelped and he shoved you against the wall. “I’ve just heard for the second time in my life what it sounds like to hear you scream, I’m not going to stop now.” He pushed you against the mirror, hands crushing your side. You tried not to scream, and you tried not moan but they slipped simultaneously from your lips. He quirked a smile and then kissed you, pulling you away only to slam you against the matted wall. You moaned and he smiled against your mouth, bruising your mouth with great determination. He seemed to find every bruise, slamming his hand against you with each movement.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to stammer out, disgusted with yourself for begging the despicable man for anything, let alone for him to keep bruising you. He pulled you to the ground and landed on top of you, pinning your hands above your head. His knee jabbed the rib that pained you and his lips continued to bruise you without any inclination of letting up.

You could kill yourself. Or whatever part of yourself that was screaming for more. You shouldn’t want it, and yet every moment he wasn’t sending pain through your body was a moment you didn’t want to exist.

“I should kill you, for making me feel this way, for making me want to…”

“To what?” you dared to ask breathlessly, but his anger had dived into the realm of moans and breathlessness. He froze when you both heard footsteps nearing the training room. He was off you in a flash, most likely embarrassed to be seen with a mortal, especially you. However, instead of leaving you behind he dragged you back to his room, the place where he damaged you last.

The wall was a welcome place, the place you had dreamed about for weeks, and here you were. And he was above you, just the way you had imagined it. He pressed his lips against your neck, teeth digging into your skin.

“Loki,” you gasped, saying his name for the first time without malice or contempt. It was only longing. Longing that tomorrow, it would take more than your fingers to count the marks he would leave on your skin tonight. He almost seemed surprised that you were saying his name, not some other insult you might have concocted in your mind while you dreamed about him. He was moaning your name too, between the bites and the kisses.

“I fucking hate you,” he muttered as he hoisted your legs around his waist. It was his mantra as ripped open your leggings and slid his sweatpants down his legs. His cock entered you without any warning and you screamed. Your body clenched around him, almost rejecting him where your mind longed for him. “I fucking hate you, I fucking hate you,” he began the words slowing turning to a scream that matched your own. He hated you and yet he was relentless. Relentless with his mouth, and his hands, and his cock. The whole world could hear you; you were sure of it. And if it wasn’t the whole world, at least the whole tower could.

The whole experience was full of pain and lust. And the symphony of your screams, mingling together as he shoved himself inside of you. You spasmed uncontrollably as you finished, screaming all the way. He came shortly after.

You half expected him to kick you out once you were done but instead, he carried you to bed. With little regard for your soreness he dropped you to the sheets before climbing in beside you. To say you were shocked was an understatement. He was laying beside you, a cold hand resting against your skin, and even more shocking, one of his fingers was tracing around a bruise he had left only a few moments ago. You fell asleep that way, together, not bothering to talk about the change in atmosphere.

Taglist: @sadwaywardkid

[synesindri]

fic writer interview

i was tagged by @theoceanismyinkwell — thanks so much!! 

How many works do you have on AO3?

40 (although a few are drabbles...still)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

143 802 :D

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

5 on ao3, but really four because i listed the marvel ones in general MCU and the specific fandom. they are supernatural, what we do in the shadows, downton abbey, and thor. HOWEVER i have written for several and either didn’t publish those fics anywhere or posted them to sites before ao3 started and lost track of them lol. i think probably 8-10 total?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Judges of Character (downton abbey, G) — explorations of george and sybbie’s reactions to thomas’s suicide attempt in s6 (HUGE thanks to @oleander4 for the inspiration for this one!!!)

Thomas Barrow and the Power of Friendship (downton abbey, T) — a series of character/relationship studies revolving around thomas

“Mr Barrow Has The Flu” (downton abbey, G) — daisy’s reaction to thomas’s "illness” in s6

Seize the Crown (what we do in the shadows, E) — uhhhh...indulgent hair pulling kink lol

Second Visitor (downton abbey, G) — daisy visits thomas after the thirsk fiar debacle

dang the downton abbey fandom really treated me well with kudos!! <3

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yes!!! in part i respond because i love comments and i feel like responding to them encourages people to comment more, but mostly i respond because it gives me a chance to talk about the fic! when people pull out stuff i did on purpose to comment on, it’s really exciting to get to give the commenter a little more information about why i did that. and when they pull out something i didn’t even realize i was doing, i want to react to what they said and appreciate having something about my own writing called to my attention. i have probably failed to respond to a comment or two but i really do try and want to respond to all of them :D

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

uhhh probably Passive (thor, G) since it’s an infinity war thor-grieves-loki fic?  

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i don’t...crossovers don’t particularly appeal to me usually. i don’t often think of ideas for them.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

aaahahaa ok no i have not (fingers crossed for it staying that way!!!) but i DID get a comment on a supernatural fic that was essentially someone going on a strange, aggressive rant about theological justifications for misogyny that were loosely related to the fic in question? that is also the only comment i’ve ever removed from a fic...

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yee. idk if any particular kind? i don’t really enjoy writing smut tbh but i do sometimes just because i have some idea that i want to express that necessitates some sexy shenanigans. typically when i write smut it’s uhhh odd in one way or another? a bit creepy and/or unsettling? because that’s the vibe i enjoy writing. the weirdness makes it more entertaining for me to write than the sex does :p as a result it’s probably not very hot but you know, whatever lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i’m aware of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!! Human Indulgence (supernatural, T, starring lucifer and lilith in one take on lilith’s corruption) was translated into spanish by Gordafabi. the translation is here!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nah...not saying i wouldn’t, but i like to write alone with my thoughts mostly.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

samifer ✌️sorry about my amazing taste skskskskss

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

gawddd yeah...the thing informally known as the adversary-lawboy tapes is #1 on this list. i have a bunch of snippets of sam n lucifer chit chatting and generally having a weird time in sam’s head throughout s5 and especially in the interval between the “yes” and stull cemetery, but there’s no way i’ll ever actually turn it into anything solid. i’d also love to finish the fic in which gabriel acts like a sickly god and does a bunch of very sketchy things but again, there’s no way i’ll ever do it. RIP. 

fortunately neither of those is public so it doesn’t matter to anyone but me that they’ll stay WIPs forever :p

What are your writing strengths?

characterization, atmosphere/pacing, and pretty little prose stuff. i care a lot about these things and get comments on them so, hurray! (also i think i’m good at a tie-in gut-punch ending on occasion...heh)

What are your writing weaknesses?

i keep not actually writing anything!!! lmao but ok other than that i sometimes try to convey something too complicated without enough explanation. i also often write these really obnoxious sentences that you have to read the end of to understand the beginning...my thoughts are not at all linear lol. i do TRY to fix these things whilst editing but...i’m sure they still happen :/ 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i usually don’t because i assume most readers won’t understand it and i don’t want to make people skip around the page for the translation. i’ll do it if it’s short and is more of an easter egg than a crucial line, or if it’s a quote from something else.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

harry potter

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

you know...maybe “Mr Barrow Has The Flu” (linked above). i feel like i really landed all the emotional beats in that, and did daisy right. i’m also very pleased with Drawn and Quartered (spn, T). there’s another spn fic i wrote during my first pass through the fandom that i think about often but i won’t say what it is because i think about lines in isolation but am not that satisfied with the fic as a whole hahhaha

tagging (extremely optionally!!!) @fandom-space-princess @ophanir @lovetheirloves @venhedish @hotgirlsummersam @bluecookiesforrick @whisperoftheheart925 and anyone else who wants to do this!