#Experienced Walkins

[malk-with-tea]

Mirabelle :D

[aegagrusscholarship]

familiarity, the lack thereof, and the only way it could have ended.

the thing is, ultrakill is a very diegetic game. near everything, from the style meter to the bottomless arsenal to the shitass graphics themselves, are explained in some way by some in-universe fact.

so, what with violence and the implication that V1 was designed to counter earthmovers

what with 7-4 and the fact that it is a culmination of this implication

i wonder. when V1 looked up at that earthmover, did it know, with whatever passes for instinct in a machine, exactly what to do? and if it did, then, how is this conveyed to the player?

diegetic as the game is, how does it engineer a situation in which the player, themselves, knows exactly what they have to do?

the biggest factor, i think, is the fact that the earthmover's health bar appears the moment you lay eyes (or camera, or whatever) on it, and it does not leave until you have finally killed this colossus.

but this factor is much more subtle than it appears at first glance. yes, big honkin' boss healthbar on screen for the entire level, what more to it. there's a good deal more, it turns out.

first off- this is the shortest leadup by far to any bossfight in the game. you slide through a single vent, and you are greeted with benjamin right out in the open. even P-1, devoid of any other hazards as it is, gives you a long trek down the spinal staircase before you reach the flesh prison. 7-4 has none of it. you enter the level, you enter the stage, and there you have it. you know exactly what you are up against right from the outset, and it's not quite a feeling of familiarity but it tells you exactly what you have to do. which is the point of this all, isn't it?

7-4 is also... not a bossfight! it is a full level! it is a full level framed as a bossfight. the health bar frames this full complete level as a bossfight.

and on one hand, this is not new news. on the other hand, i think this is the crux of it. the thing is, most bossfights are near-to-entirely new. you do not know how the boss acts. you do not know their attack patterns. you do not know their capabilities. you are learning something new. levels, though, you have done a thousand times over and so the player knows how they need to play through this bossfight in a way that is not quite present with any other boss in the game.

the content of the level is new, of course, because that's how it goes. but you know the motions. you have done this for two acts prior, you know the motions. you know exactly what to do.

also! this level does not exist in a vacuum. what i am saying is this: the rest of violence layer shifts its storytelling and its tone and even its graphics. it is something completely new in contrast to the rest of the game. 7-4, though, returns to environments and graphics more akin to what you have experienced before, bringing you back to familiarity and again knowing what to do here in a way the rest of violence hasn't let the player experience.

one more thing about this level: it plays directly into expectations. which is something that the rest of the game actually does not tend to do.

the game, at base, is just not a typical FPS. it gives you movement like a roguelite or a platformer, it takes guns you expect to know the mechanics of and goes utterly wild with how far the archetype can be changed.

in a smaller scope, here is a comparison of the earthmover and the corpse of king minos as two separate colossal bosses foreshadowed in similar ways. and i mean, minos's bossfight isn't unprecedented in other works. but i think the thing that matters here is that you are not, in fact, the underdog as is the case with so many other bosses of its ilk. riven of many voices, destiny 2, similar bossfight similar scale. you are hiding from her you are a fireteam of many you are triumphing over a dragon larger than life. project gestalt, madness project nexus, you are pulling out every stop you can to take down something so far over your head (both literally and metaphorically). corpse of king minos- V1 looks up, stands its ground, and parries his god damn fist.

and the thing is, the earthmover plays into a different expectation, but it's playing into an expectation nonetheless. you look at this thing and you climb it and you dismantle it from within, like you have done in many games prior. you know what your goal is from the moment you see that healthbar and you hook onto the conspicuously placed hookpoints that tell you- you will climb this machine; you will fight your way up to whatever its core is and you will kill it. you play through the entire level with this expectation and you get exactly this expectation. you destroy its core and it begins a countdown, and so very many games have countdowns before the collapse of whatever level you have just beaten, and you know exactly what you have to do.

i don't know. i love diegetic storytelling. i love this level.

it's just familiarity, i think. this level runs off familiarity. it gives you, the player, things and tropes and designs you are familiar with. it signals to you that you should know what to do, and it lets you do exactly what you expect to do.

if i were any more cheesy i could absolutely end this by restating something about the only way it could've ended, but uh. i am not that cheesy. this time.

aw crud now i don't know how to end this oh well goodbye then

[s0urte3th]

i know

[nyarados]

what the.... was contemplating asking my boss for the rest of the day off and just realized she is already out of office 🧍🏻‍♀️

[angelsrcute]

I suck his dick, it's big, it's very-very big! ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd make you cockwarm him while he works, the door unlocked, his dick so close to your g-spot but he wouldn't let you move! hands keeping your waist in place as his dick keeps you all stuffed n warm.

“I'll be done soon, sweetheart, you can wait a little more right? So, be a good girl n stop movin’ so much.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd praise you for sucking him off so good, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you try not to gag on his huge dick. Guiding your tongue on his dick, gently holding your hair, shooting thick ropes of cum in your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so good, my sweets. Keep goin’ alright? looking so pretty f’ me.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd taunt n insult you while you gag on his dick, roughly grabbing your hair and making you take him fully. Your mascara n lipstick all ruined, eyes rollin’ back when he cums in your mouth. :(

“You look like some cheap whore like this, y'know. I bet you're getting wet from me degrading you, hm? As expected.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd fuck you in a mating press, his big cock stretching your insides, hitting your womb. Pressin’ his hand on your tummy to feel his dick in you, making you whine. Your tummy already full from how much he cums, you definitely can't go for another round.. + he's gonna fuck you till you need a wheelchair.

“It won't fit? Don't worry, darlin’. Gonna make your cunt remember my dick, don't worry! Even if it does forgets, I'll just fuck ya again.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd fuck you till your dumb n can only think of him and his dick if you do decide to act all bratty or he'd just tie you up n put a vibrator on your clit and watch as you squirm around trying to get a release, but he turns off the vibrator just when you're gonna cum. :(

"Should've thought before being like that, what did you expect, princess? acting all flirty with that random guy, trying to make me jealous."

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who’re either super experienced from sleeping around or just fucking virgin losers, walkin’ around with that big ass dick in his pants.

— FYODOR, Leona, Dazai, NIKOLAI, Beel, Chuuya, Diavolo, SEBEK, Lucifer, Malleus, MAMMON, Jack, Blade, Neuvillette, Sampo, IDIA, Zhongli, Scara, CHILDE, TOJI, Jing yuan, Gojo, Sukuna, NANAMI, Dr. ratio, Wriothesley, ALHAITHAM, CATER + your favs.

[uniquejobs]

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[starkeyisthelastname]

a trailerpark!rafe blurb for @islandclubchampagneroom 🚬 this is a lil filthy.. you’ve been warned. 😶💦

You looked like a little gorgeous doll, skipping from trailer to trailer with your basket full of goodies you made. You came across your new favorite place, which was Rafe’s trailer. It was kinda run down, but that didn’t matter to you. To your surprise, he was outside already, washing his beat down pickup. You couldn’t help but ogle him a little as he was shirtless, his toned upper body on full display. He made your tummy feel funny every time you were around him, especially when you heard him speak. “It’s a lil’ hot for you to be outside, ain’t it’ baby doll?” He would rasp out.

He held a cigarette in the same hand as he did the hose, rinsing off the rusty truck as the other one brought a can cheap beer to his lips. His hooded blue eyes would stare you up and down, the nasty thoughts already running through his mind as he soaked up every inch of your stunning little self.

“I made cookies! Do you want some?” You asked, voice sweet as you ignored his question about it being too hot.

He eyed you, gulping down the rest of his beer before smashing the can and throwing it behind him. He brought the cigarette up to his mouth, motioning you to come closer. He wrapped an arm around your waist, peering down into your basket. “What kind you make, sweet cheeks?” He asked, squeezing your hip roughly.

You felt giddy every time he touched you, biting your glossy bottom lip as you felt the heat shoot down to your core. “Sugar with sprinkles and umm.. chocolate chip with pink frosting. It’s kinda getting melted though…” You pout, not realizing his hand had slipped lower to feel the lack of panties you had on underneath your cotton dress. He blew out the smoke away from your pretty face, before chuckling darkly. “Well how about you come inside and cool off for a lil’ bit and you can set those pretty cookies down..” He suggested, knowing you’d fall for his trap.

He’d be three more beers in, last cigarette in his hand as the other lifted up your dress. “Why you walkin’ around the trailer park with your cunt all out?” He finally asked, large hand coming down to give it a firm smack. He’d have your back, pinned to his broad chest, his sparse facial hair, tickling your neck. You wiggled against his denim covered lap, the funny feeling in your tummy growing the more he touched you.

“You think this sweet lil’ hole is ready for a grown man’s cock?” His voice in a low drawl as the cloud of cigarette smoke blew down your body.

You were an adult, but your father had kept you sheltered away from everything that was bad. You never had been touched by another man until you met Rafe, and you were desperate for more. You didn’t know what his words meant, but they sounded dirty and your poor little self couldn’t help but nod. He shuffled a bit behind you, putting out the cigarette bud into the overflowed ash tray and lifting you up a little from his lap.

With a pop of his jeans and tug of a zipper, his fat cock smacked against his lower abs as he positioned you back against him. He ran the tip along your dripping folds, loving your whimpers as he teased your greedy little hole. He felt you tense up, gasping as he began to slowly push up into your untouched flower. It took every ounce of him not to completely ram up into your fluttering pussy, your cunt squeezing the fuck out of his dick. “That’s a tight fuckin’ cunt.” He grunted to himself.

You were so full, already dumb on the older man’s cock as the pain subsided for a pleasure you had never experienced. You were at a loss for words, body lazily collapsing against his muscled chest as his dirty hands hooked under your thighs. He began to thrust up into you, his light mustache grazing the smooth skin of your shoulder as he started talking dirty to you. “This is why you don’t come around a bad man like me, sweet baby doll. You get your fuckin cunt ruined.”

You were already too attached to him. Your head spinning as he said the most filthiest things you had ever heard in your sheltered life. Even if he was the exact type of man your father told you to stay away from, you didn’t care. You just didn’t know any better but to be obsessed about the first man to ever give you attention and that happened to be one of your father’s tenants.

“I own you now, sugar. Got that?” Rafe groaned in your ear, the sounds of your pretty moans getting increasingly louder throughout his messy trailer, while he fucked you through your first orgasm. “That’s right.. cum all over daddy’s fat cock, make a mess all over that shit my little fuckdoll.” He told you, feeling you clench around with a scream.

Oh how he was gonna have some fun with you…

[tteokdoroki]

finking about werewolf bakugo who smells when u are ovulating and acts as if u were in heat idk i just love the idea of reader who doesn't understand monster rituals until its too late x hybrid bakugo

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, hybrids, heat cycles, knots, breeding kink, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy (in the breeding sense), werewolf!bakugou

i might die i might die omg

imagine just waking up with werewolf!bakugou all over you, sniffing at your neck, rocking his hardness between your thighs because he can smell how fertile you are and the day has only just begun. it’s like you’ve been begging to be bred even in your sleep, whining because it’s too hot or because you’re in pain. he doesn’t understand why you try to run for him despite how wet you’re getting, push him off and complain about how hot it is. you need him, don’t you understand?

“katsuki get off, you’re heavy.”

“shuddap, spread yer legs, ‘m gonna give you pups. make it all go away.”

it’s his instinct, to take care of his precious little human and make sure you’re not experiencing any discomfort — and the only way werewolf!bakugou knows how to do that is to stuff you to the brim with his knot and his seed. make sure it sticks and gets you pregnant.

you have to watch your back around him fr because if you don’t he’ll bend you over the counter with his face between your thighs because that pretty ripe pussy won’t stop leaking for him. like you go to wash something in the sink and werewolf!bakugou is on his knees behind you, tail thumping on the floor like “don’t you feel that? ya need t’be bred.” tearing through your clothes from behind no matter how much you squeal. “can’t have you walkin’ ’round the place like a bitch in heat. yer mine to fuck.”

cause werewolf!bakugou only doing his duty, making sure his cock his nice and snug within your plush, juicy walls — painted with layers of his cum while he knots you. you’re confused, crying dumb on his cock, but not complaining — you’ll have him explain it all to you later. for now you’ll enjoy the way his hips are tied to you by gallons of his precum and your slick, frothing up white against your thighs.

[temiizpalace]

Hello! I was wondering (if I'm doing this right) if I could request for the fighting event?

Could I request number 4 (TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST.) with Leona Kingscholar "fighting" (maybe a hint for that?) with Jack Howl who offers Yuu a jacket without even being asked for one?

Thank you!

☆┊TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST. (🐺 vs. 🦁)

SUMMARY: COLD CHILLS RAN DOWN YOUR SPINE AS YOUR TEMPERATURE BEGINS TO DROP. HE OFFERS HIS JACKET LIKE A GENTLEMEN, BUT A CERTAIN SOMEONE HAD THE SAME IDEA.

CHARACTERS: jack howl vs. leona kingscholar

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy

NOTES: first event request done, yay! regular posts will still be uploaded but my main focus will be on event requests! tysm for participating!

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

night raven college was experiencing some of its lowest temperatures all year.

around this time, the weather usually begins to drop from scorching hot summers to calm and crisp autumns. however, this year seemed to differ. harsh winds blew past you and grim as you walked by the great seven, feeling as if they were mocking you for being without a jacket on this fatefully cold day.

“myah.. i don’t like it. feels like they’re makin fun of us.” grim grumbles, burying himself in his paws to maintain some form of warmth. he nestled on your shoulder, leaning against your cheek to also try and keep you warm. “tell me about it..” you sigh, rubbing your shivering arms.

“hey, herbivore,” a familiarly lazy voice rings, poking the back of your head. leona? what in the world is he doing out in the cold? “what’re you doin without a jacket? you goin for a new style or are ya just that scatterbrained?” he teases, flicking your forehead lightly with a raised brow. “ow! im not scatterbrained, i simply forgot.” you grunt in retaliation, holding your forehead to prevent him from flicking you again.

“anyways, what are you doing out here? savanaclaw is warm all year, i expected you to stay there til lunch.” you interrogate him, poking a finger to his chest. that’s when you noticed, he’s covering up for once. more accurately, he’s wearing a coat. unexpected for someone like him to be wearing long sleeves, even in cold weather.

“takin a stroll. got a problem with it?” he shrugs, lying through the skin of his teeth. he actually came to visit you, but by the time he had gotten to ramshackle you were already gone. “no, just doesn’t seem like you.” you grin, chuckling slightly at his silent reaction. leona turned away, eyes averting to the ground.

“tch.” he grunts, following you silently. grim looks to leona, who wasn’t as snarky as he typically was. ruggie could preach for that. leona watches as you shiver, each step you took the only thing keeping you from frostbite. he contemplated on offering his coat, but his pride fails to allow him. he stole glances at you every once in a while, but never spoke.

that was, until you all heard footsteps chasing after you. “[MC]! grim!” you all look up to see jack already a few feet away with his uniform coat in hand. “jack?!” you all collectively shout, not expecting him to see him out here. but then again, he is a jock. a good run perhaps? “housewarden? what are you doing out here?” jack asks, a bit shocked to see his housewarden awake at this hour.

“walkin. gotta problem, frosh?” leona growls, jack immediately holding his tongue for further comments. “no, housewarden. anyway, [MC], take my coat. you’ll freeze out here without one.” jack insists, already draping the coat over you. “ah! jack, it’s freezing out here. keep your coat, are you crazy?” you sigh, trying to take it off and hand it back to him. unfortunately, your strength differs greatly as he manages to keep it on you with ease.

“nothin a run can’t fix.” he laughs, his fangs showing as he smiled. it was quite charming. “awh, that’s so kind of you, jack. thank you.” you smile in return, wrapping yourself in the jacket further. while you and jack bantered back and forth as you walked towards your class. leona on the other hand, was not a fan of this exchange in the slightest. is he getting shown up by his own junior? how unacceptable.

your laughter was like music to his ears.. why’d it have to be for another man? and jack of all people? “jack,” he grunts, suddenly interjecting between you two. “your shiverin. take your coat back.” he scoffs, taking his coat off of your shoulders and tossing it back to him. “..huh?” he raises his brow, barely catching his coat on time. you, grim, and jack all exchanged looks with each other, taken aback by leona’s sudden consideration.

“leona? what are you—” he wraps his coat around you, draping it over your shoulders and buttoning it up with ease. “practically brand new. hardly wore it.” leona huffs, throwing jack a smug look. the wolf beast man took notice of it, shocked at his housewarden’s pettiness. “wow.. thanks leona! that’s sweet of you.” you smile, not finding anything suspicious with his actions.

“whatever, nothin special. just lookin out for my underclassmen.” he grins, ruffling your hair before shooting another smug look at jack. “keep your coat to yourself now, jack. i wouldn’t want ya freezing on me either.” he pats his shoulder before waving and walking off towards the botanical gardens.

“somethin’ seems off with leona today.” grim states bluntly, crossing his arms as he stared at the back of the lion beastman. “..yeah. a little.” jack adds, looking back at those smug glares he received from his own upperclassman. “really? i think he’s being a gentlemen for once.” you chuckle, adjusting the collar. a lion marks their scent as a way of courting their mate, common knowledge for beastmen.

the coat you wore practically reeked of leona definitely worn more than once. that scent was the only thing filling his nostrils, not to mention his enhanced sense of smell. wolves are not all that different, marking their territory and sticking by their mates side til they die. this was no act of kindness.

this was a warning from leona to jack, a simple sign from animal to animal. back off.

A/N: with the amount of leona requests i got, it’s gonna be like leona’s fighting off the entire school 😭😭🙏🙏

date published: 8/24/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

[second-axis-point]

Joel loves acting all tough to go on lookout and not sleep, but the second he's in your arms he's asleep and snoring the night away

Your least favourite and least reliable DILF loving writer is back! I am so sorry I keep taking long breaks but hopefully I’ll find some motivation and start writing again. I absolutely love soft Joel requests. I will NEVER stop loving this man, I swear. Thanks for the request! 💙

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Soft!Joel, Comfort, Established Relationship

Your Arms

As usual, you and Joel were sent out on patrol with two others. It was two younger people. Louie and Patrick. They were a lot quicker on their feet than you and Joel but the two of you were smarter and more experienced. That made the four of you a lethal team. Joel had his usual scowl on his face as you slowly walked the perimeter of Jackson.

“Alright, Joel?”

You asked your partner.

“I’m fine, keep walkin’.”

Joel grumbled. Louie jogged up to walk beside you.

“Is he always like this?”

She asked. You think back to all the sweet moments you shared with Joel. None of them had that scowl in them. You shook your head with a smile.

“Nah, he’s just grumpy.”

You said. She looked sceptical but slowed down to drop back behind you to walk with Patrick again. You tore your eyes away from the trail ahead to look over at Joel again. He still had that scowl on his face. You suppress a laugh and turn back to the front, continuing your patrol.

Things went smoothly and you all made your way back into town. Tommy had met you and Joel at the gates. Joel groaned as soon as he saw his brother.

“I know, I know. I need you two to go back to that little town that you found a few miles out. A storm is headed our way and we’re not quite prepared. Patrick said that you guys found a lot of MREs that the Fireflies left down that way.”

Tommy said. Joel rolled his eyes and nodded silently.

“When do you want us to go?”

You ask the other Miller brother.

“I want you to grab your horses and go now.”

Tommy replied. You groaned as well. The two of you had just gotten back from a two hour patrol and know this.

“Come on Joel.”

You adjusted your rifle on your shoulder and pulled your coat tighter around your torso. Joel nodded, pushing his nose further into his coat collar. It was a small thing that you always noticed that Joel would do when he’s annoyed or upset, especially when it was cold outside. The two of you head to the stables and get your horses. You trot back to the gates. Tommy waves and you flip him off before following behind Joel.

It was about two hours to the little town on horseback. You hummed as your horse trotted behind Joel’s. Joel listened quietly as he led. After an hour and a half, you saw the town come into view and trotted up beside Joel. Another half hour goes by and you're finally walking the main street of the small town. You look over the town and pull your rifle off your back. You slowed your horse down. Joel noticed and did the same. 

You heard something in one of the buildings so you hopped off your horse and walked to it, rifle aimed and loaded. It was a tense few seconds before a clicker shuffled out of the dark hallway, twitching and ticking. You aimed the rifle and took a breath, listening for other infected. When you didn’t hear any, you took the shot and put the clicker down easy. You stood still for a moment and looked around. You felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to shove it off and point your rifle.

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s me.”

Joel stepped back and held his hands up. You immediately lowered the rifle.

“Sorry. Just a little jumpy. I hate this stupid town.”

You grumbled. You and Joel searched through all the buildings on the main street and gathered what you could. It was quite the load when you finished. The sun was starting to go down as you strapped all the supplies you found to Joel’s horse. He was going to ride with you on the way back since there was too much to split between the two horses. You secured the supplies and fed Joel’s horse. He had named it Shower. You thought it was a goofy name but you never told him.

“Good girl, Shower.”

You said as you pet down the horse’s nose. She huffed and pushed into you. Joel smiled at the back of your head and made his way over to you.

“We should find a place to settle down for the night.”

You nodded, knowing that Joel hates travelling in the dark. He got nervous and jumpy at night so it was easier to just hunker down and not argue. You looked around and found a partially secure building. You pointed out to Joel and he nodded. You hitched the horses outside and went in. You cleared it and made sure there were no infected nearby.

“You want me to take first shift?”

You asked as you turned to face him. Obviously, he shook his head and held his rifle tighter.

“No, you rest up. I'll take the night watch.”

You shook your head.

“Joel, you can’t just always stay up all night when we’re out. I know you’re tired. Why not let me take first shift?”

You ask, knowing it was a pointless fight. He shook his head and sat down on a crate that faced the door. There was no arguing with this brick wall of a man. You grumbled something and walked over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to the scar on his temple and laid down. You didn’t notice the flush that spread across his cheeks as you laid your head down. You set an alarm on your watch, making sure that you could relive Joel in an hour and a half. You were determined to get him to sleep tonight.

Joel sat there and watched the door, occasionally looking over at you. You were facing the wall and were using your arms as a pillow. Joel followed the line of your back down to your boots and back up. He looked back at the door with a small smile as he remembered the happy moments he has shared with you. A while later, Joel heard your watch beeping and saw you shift. You sat up and cracked your back.

“Alright Miller, my turn.”

You shooed him off the crate and onto your bed roll. He complained and argued but you just ignored him and turned your attention to the door. A minute later, Joel gives up and lays down. Joel’s watch goes off an hour later and the two of you switch again. You forget to set your timer so you sleep through the rest of the night while Joel takes watch. You wake up with the sun in your face.

“Damn it Joel. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

You grumble as you roll over and rub your eyes. He shrugs.

“You need sleep.”

You stand and pack up your bedroll.

“So do you.”

The two of you get back out to your horses and get ready to start back to Jackson. You hop up on your horse and Joel shuffles up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses his cheek against your back. You lead Joel’s horse back to the trail and slowly make your way back to Jackson with Joel leaning up behind you. It took a lot longer for you to get back to Jackson because you had your horse walk a lot slower so Joel could rest.

You finally make your way back and get through the gates. Tommy greets you with a smile when he sees how much you found and brought back.

“Hey! The old married couple is back and they brought a shit ton of supplies!”

Tommy says loudly with a smile, waking Joel behind you. You trotted through town, dropping Joel off at your shared cabin and brough the two horses back to the stables. You helped Tommy and the other Jackson residents unload the horse and sort out all the supplies. It was around midday when you made it back to the cabin you shared with Joel. You walked in and saw him on the couch with his head tilted back. He wasn’t asleep, just finding a way to pass the time. He got up and took your jacket off for you and pulled you back to the bedroom.

“Easy cowboy, I just got back.”

You joked. He glared at you and pushed you back onto the bed. He laid down almost on top of you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You shifted and got comfortable before moving a hand up to run through his salt and pepper hair.The smell of you, your touch, your warmth, your presence. All of it comforted Joel beyond belief. He took a deep breath and was asleep within seconds. You closed your eyes and slipped into a comforting sleep as well.

[how2forgive]

bday diary...rambling look away...

birthday weekend was very special. i was happy to just journal, run errands, and go for a cute intimate dinner on the actual day. i continued the lil bday tradition w myself watching a rohmer film alone. this time it was le rayon vert and it was the perfect movie for this time of my life

on saturday my friends planned a night out for me💗 we barhopped then went to karaoke. v fun n cathartic

it was all very beautiful but i ended up hanging around and talking to a close friend while everyone else ubered home. it was rly late but i didnt mind walkin him home..we're always yapping together anyway n its always fun and i feel v safe w him! eventually when we neared his house he had asked if i had feelings for him the same way he had for me. i suppose i had given him the wrong impression these past few months, and that he thought we were heading into something romantic..when it is not the case..

i just find it interesting that if i am truly my unfiltered self with boys they will always take it as me wanting to date them. i want to treat all my friends the same, with the same heart and enthusiasm, but everytime i match my behavior i have towards female friendships with guys, it backfires ..

there was a long discussion that followed that was healthy and good but ultimately i just feel bummed bc in the end we decided some distance between us was best.

right now.. i revere friendship more and i feel sad that this rejection just feels like a failure or loss to him.. when it could be so much deeper and better than a relationship. but whatever

he told me he held onto this thing i said where i was like "im at a point in my life where my heart is open" and thought i was hinting at something? yeah...i have a lust for life..not boys..

i think overall im just frustrated and tired that i have to constantly justify my decision to be single or the fact im not interested in romantic love rn.. What i have in mind that makes me want to kms: my ex , who is on his second gf since me, telling me i need to "put myself out there" and saying "it'll be ok" as if he pities me.. i was like omg this must be my rock bottom. god must hate me

but NO. i have to say i am the most content and self-assured ive been in my twenties. its not problem-free but i dont have this horrible restlessness stirring in my soul, i dont have feelings of yearning or emptiness anymore. I just have gratitude for my little life and the instances of love lately that have felt like real true intimacy, more than ive experienced in relationships. Im still learning and figuring it out but it feels better like this.

[bombingqueen]

I might make a rec list of all my favorite wincest and j2 fics. I wouldn't mind receiving some recs if anyone is interested. I decided to just list my wincest recs because I read more sam/dean fics then J2. I have no idea how many parts I'm gonna have.

Updated:

Wincest Recs Part 1

Favorites (these are pretty much rated E):

the blood in your mouth (5306 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Dean wishes he could sink his hands right through Sam’s skin, his ribs, wishes he could touch straight down to Sam’s heart. He’d feel the strong muscle of it, the clench and release of every beat, the thick heat of blood. He could take a bite, all for himself. (In which Dean starts experiencing cannibalistic thoughts about Sam, and Sam just needs his brother. Season 11.)

take the things you love (4784 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: The thing is, Sam’s reinforcing every bad behavior Dean’s ever had with this kind of shit. Fucking Sam stupid over the hood of the Impala? Dean’s wet dream—unfortunately also Sam’s—but more importantly the implicit validation of every claim Dean thinks he has on Sam—unfortunately every claim Sam’s lizard brain wants Dean to have. (Sam knows his brother wants to possess him. It's a point of internal conflict.)

brother only wants (64098 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 11/11 Summary: Sam breathes like it takes effort, and then he says, "Wanting you was the very first thing I realized was wrong with me. It was how I knew there was something sick inside." (One of them had to fall first. A story about devotion.)

an act of faith against the night (5953 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Summary: When Dean kisses him again, he tastes like Sam's tears. "I hate you," Sam whispers into Dean's mouth, still trying to get Dean to fuck him faster. No one should ever love this much. "It's your fault, this is your fault." Dean gave him this, everything that Sam never wants to lose, and now Dean's just going to tear it all away. He's going to throw himself away, like he's nothing, if Sam can't save him. (Angsty porn set sometime in Season 3. In lieu of actually talking things out, Sam and Dean have a lot of sex. Sometimes, like now, Sam breaks down.)

Bullet for my Valentine (8840 words) by merle_p Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Stupid. He is so goddamn fucking stupid. Running his mouth like a fucking idiot, not knowing when to leave well enough alone. Bad enough that he just practically talked dirty to his little brother, which, Christ – he must be more stressed than he thought if his self-control mechanisms have started malfunctioning that badly. But no, no, he came up with a scenario straight out of a bad slasher film, as if that is something normal people talk dirty about, as if that is something Sam would seriously enjoy. As if – As if Dean hadn’t hunted his own brother through the maze of the bunker, eyes black and hammer raised to strike, not even a full year ago. As if Sam hadn’t, just a few weeks back, knelt at his feet, neck bared, waiting for Dean to deal a fatal blow with a fucking scythe

Sam has a serial killer kink and Dean indulges him. There is no explicit consent discussion prior to the kink exploration. But there is a safeword that Sam is fully able to use.

With Your Dreams Untold (10157 words) by waywardelle Chapters: 1/1 Summary: For the past ten years, Dean has been bookmarking porn on the laptop for Sam to watch. Sam figured it would never go further than that, until one night, not long after killing Hitler, Dean decides to be brave. One thing is for sure: Dean is never going to let Sam live down the fact that porn is what brought them together, in the end. Set between 12x06 & 12x07, but not necessarily a coda.

Walkin' the Tightrope (24702 words) by non_tiembo_mala Chapters: 1/1 Summary: It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more. Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help. Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…

because you want to die for love (27299 words) by hathfrozen Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of Heaven verse Summary: He almost misses it. “Seventy-eight days.” A beat passes. “What?” That’s the face of twenty-four year old Sam staring at Dean with the eyes of the thirty-six year old Sam he left behind. Dean can’t get a read on him, on the expression there when Sam clarifies, “It was only seventy-eight days. I lived for seventy-eight days without you, and then I ended up here.”  (Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.)

Just about everything by hathfrozen is awesome. The author really knows Sam and Dean and hathfrozen explores their unhinged dynamics well.

Strange How the Night Moves (2282 words) by dollylux Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam and Dean talk about Sam's night with Piper.

Kings of Christmas (4987 words) by brokenlittleboy Chapters: 1/1 Summary: During the holidays at the bunker, Sam and Dean engage in a tense competition over who can decorate the bunker the best. Things get out of hand, but in a good way.

The Exodus (14189 words) by waywardelle Chapters: 1/1 Summary: So. Dean left with Cas over a week ago on some sort of recon mission, and yeah, Sam has been trying to bury himself in research, but he's just not coping all that well with the long-term separation. He wakes up early one morning, expecting the day to be like all the rest, except it's even worse than all the rest, because he's completely and totally alone on his (brother-less) thirty-fourth birthday. His bleak outlook quickly changes with an unexpected phone call, and he has to admit that maybe someone, somewhere answered his embarrassingly needy birthday wish, despite his lack of candles to blow out.

Promise Me (9281 words) by brokenlittleboy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel Additional Tags: Soulmates, Fluff, Romance, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Men of Letters Bunker, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Winchesters, Canon Compliant, Top Dean, Bottom Sam, Frottage, Anal Sex, Sleepy Kisses, Minor Character(s) Series: Part 4 of Commissions Summary: Dean makes a promise to Sam. He'd already made a commitment to his brother in a church, but this time is more significant and meaningful. Their lives are already weird enough that one incestuous marriage proposal won't flip things upside down.

Sweet Sin, So Naked and Bare (16105 words) by HandsAcrossTheSea Chapters: 1/1 Summary: “Have you ever thought about us doing it bare?” Sam pauses with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth and brings his gaze up. “What do you mean?” “You know. Fucking bareback.” Dean’s not looking at him and Sam really, really wishes he would. Sam sets the cup down and exhales slowly. “Maybe.”

the need to choose (4542 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Castiel tells Dean something he never expected to hear.

This is an amazing fic. It does involve Mpreg and Non-traditional A/B/O dynamics. Dean is told he is pregnant. It also discusses the possibility of abortion due to the possibility of Sam and Dean being vessels and their war with Heaven and Hell. I think the concept is utterly brilliant. Sam and Dean having a child would really make it so that Heaven and Hell hunt them down or they give up their child.

reclamation (4152 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Once they're finally on the same page again, once things are okay, Sam realizes there's just one thing missing.

femme (4460 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Rummaging around the internet, Dean finds a kink he hadn't seen before; Sam explains, and demonstrates.

the beams of our house are cedar (7864 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: While they're still cementing the bunker as theirs, Dean remembers something he used to play with, when he was younger. He decides to give Sam a surprise, whenever he gets home.

there will be better days (9430 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

ambiguity (4155 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam has a fantasy that he's long wanted to see realized. Dean misunderstands, at first, but Sam sets him straight.

a gift; win-win (967 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam wants to watch; Dean obliges.

oh so good, oh so fine (7580 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of it started with the kinks Summary: Zachariah gave them their memories back, but he didn't erase what had happened in the time they were other people. Dean Smith made a mistake, and Dean Winchester--well. He's still living with it.

kansas city (4231 words) by deadlybride Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam dies in a barn, and Dean tries to live, after.

deadlybride is one of my favorite wincest authors. everything they write is certified gold. Also, I'm a simple woman, I enjoy reading about Dean in panties.

Good Clean Fun (6050 words) by nigeltde Summary: Loose lips sink ships.

Fair warning, if Sam and Dean having sex when Sam may not be fully with reality squicks you then proceed with caution. It is not stated out right and it is left ambiguous.

Lips That Unlock Doors (2668 words) by AlulaSpeaks Chapters: 1/1 Dean may have the lips that unlock doors, but it’s Sam’s mouth that drives Dean crazy.

Dean just wanted a taste.

You Have Always Been a Fire, Burning Under My Skin (6037 words) by faequeentitania Chapters: 1/1 Series: Part 1 of Sharing is Caring Summary: The first time Sam woke up to the sound of Dean jerking off, he was twelve. Hearing your brother stroking himself in the middle of the night shouldn't be a turn on at twelve. And it definitely shouldn't be a turn on at twenty-two, either. But here he was.

The entire series is awesome. There is hetero sex but Sam/Dean has a pretty established thing going on throughout. Sam and Dean enjoy sharing their sexual experiences with women and they enjoy having threesomes.

Giving Thanks (23271 words) by chiquititasnewsong Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam forgets it’s Thanksgiving until he finds Dean in the kitchen at the bunker getting ready for a huge holiday spread. Whether it’s the day or the atmosphere or some kind of odd cosmic synchronicity, Sam takes a chance that turns out to change his life in ways he never dreamed possible.

I love this fic so fuckin much. The mutual pining and the increasing sexual tension is everything to me.

To Have and To Hold (3668 words) by fallingintodivinity Chapters: 1/1 Summary: It’s while standing in the middle of the vegetable aisle at a Wal-Mart, a slightly wilted head of lettuce in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, that Dean Winchester realizes he’s married.

A Warm Respite from a Chilly Night (1854 words) by doilycoffin Chapters: 1/1 After spending a good chunk of their evening freezing their asses off, Dean decides to warm him and Sam up with some good old fashioned spiked hot cocoa. And if it results in him getting to have a little fun with a very tipsy and horny Sam, then who is he to complain?

It's all consensual.

In the Chair Next to Mine (14407 words) by chiquititasnewsong Chapters: 1/1 Summary: This was written for this prompt from the SPN Masquerade Round 10: WINCEST - CAMPBELL BROTHERS, MARRIAGE KINK from: (anonymous) they really do love their little life in lebanon; the cozy quaint togetherness, the domestic bliss of coupledom, and they definitely get off on fooling the townspeople—letting everyone think they're mr. and mr. for real. (matching rings, the occasional pet name slipped, no one around them realizing they're getting an eyeful of incest every time a kiss is shared in public.)

Sam has a serious and intense incest kink. Dean gets into it.

Cri de Cœur [The Heart's Cry] (37817 words) by kelleigh Chapters: 7/7 Summary:

Sam and Dean could use a break after banishing God’s sister to the far reaches of oblivion. However, a new case drops into their laps when they receive a message sent to the Men of Letters using a strange old code. The name Campbell makes it impossible for them to refuse. The hunt takes the Winchesters back to Charleston, South Carolina, a city they haven’t been through in almost twenty years. It plunges them into the obscure and bloody history of an old plantation where ghost sightings and a consuming madness mean the clock is ticking.

Using every resource they have, including the help of the last Campbell ancestor in the South, the testimony of a powerless ghost, and the expertise of a handsome young historian, Sam and Dean need to uncover the truth behind the haunting before it claims another innocent victim. Based on the short story, The Yellow Wallpaper.

This is the second part of a series but it can be read as a stand alone. I love reading case fics and love reading ones that read like it could be on the show. This is awesome. Takes a divergence after Amara reunites with Chuck.

Sticking With You (10522 words) by smalltrolven Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam’s soul has been stretched to the limit after being attached to Chuck via the damn bullet in his shoulder. But now he has something to decide: whether or not to fill Dean in about what had really happened to Sam while Dean was off hunting on his own and killing his old buddy. It takes him the whole drive to Alaska, and nearly the whole way back to work up the courage to spill the whole story.

Dean helps Sam's soul heal and it is a beautiful thing.

nothing's gonna hurt you, baby (17652 words) by orphan_account Chapters: 1/1 Summary: “You get to have this, Dean.” The brush of Sam’s mouth against his own is the sweetest ache. Lips catch and drag and Sam whispers into his mouth, “You get to have this. If you want this, I’m giving it to you. Let me give this to you.” Dean wants to say yes. He wants to say please and I love you and thank you. For the trust, the devotion, the care. It’s not something that has ever needed to be verbalised but god, in this moment Dean wants nothing more than to tell this boy just how much he loves him. “Yeah. Yeah, Sam — I want this.” The words taste like the sweetest freedom and a thousand more years of damnation but Sam’s tongue soothes the burn of them. Long fingers cradle the back of his head tenderly, so tenderly, like he’s something precious to be taken care of, and Dean’s chest feels fit to bursting with how much he loves this kid.

I adore this fic. I really really do. and its sexy hot. This has Daddy kink. Sam calls Dean Daddy and it has undertones of subdropping.

Every New Beginning (1881 words) by remy Chapters: 1/1 Summary: one night you realize you love him, you love him in a way you shouldn’t, in a way you can never tell anyone, least of all him because he is not here. he is miles and miles and miles below your feet, so far out of your reach that you can’t even imagine it, and your chest hurts so sharp and vindictive you can’t breathe. and here’s the thing – without him, you don’t want to.

This is written in second person but it is an honestly beautiful depiction of Dean's feelings for Sam.

they were each other's toxic cure called codependency (2172 words) by nowhere_blake Series: Part 8 of codas for the damned and the brokenhearted Summary: Mary’s back, Dean is gone and Sam stops sleeping. She thought she understood how deep her boys' relationship goes, but when Michael takes over and Dean disappears, she needs to reevaluate just exactly how scarily codependent the two of them are. Coda to 14x01 Stranger in a Strange Land.

There's No Normal After That (6274 words) by Fenix21 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Dean discovers the truth behind the words of what it really means to love his brother.

Dean's turmoil after Sam's non-death is good stuff. This fic is set after Red Meat.

O Heavenly Christmas (8124 words) by SmackTheDevil Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Reunited on a bridge in Heaven, Sam and Dean have much to catch up on and slide back into their close relationship as if they had never been apart. Sam is reflective about a life long lived, while Dean is his usual self; cracking jokes and teasing his brother. But without the weight of the world on their shoulders, for the first time, in a long time they are both able to relax and talk about their time together on Earth, relive a few memories and enjoy their first Christmas together in Heaven.

amazing work and the progress of their re-joining is beautiful

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? (ain't you my baby?) (3367 words) by pilotflyingj Summary: Five times Dean calls Sam "baby," and one time he doesn't.

Monsters Are Always Hungry (27458 words) by untraceablegirl23 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: He peers down at him for just a second, a second that skips on like hours, because looking at Sam is like giving something up, like air, like space, and being replaced entirely with devotion. (Nonlinear depiction of the time Sam and Dean are found out and how it all comes to in the months beforehand which are Heaven and Hell at once. Or an acknowledgement of just how far they’d go for each other, even when it’s beyond wrong, because how can you hide when you’re entirely made for someone else?)

Midnight Ride (2749 words) by ani_coolgirl Chapters: 1/1 Summary: Sam really just means to get some sleep. But if he wants Dean’s good mood to last, he may as well indulge and enjoy the ride.

Sam indulging Dean's cowboy while Castiel and Jack are in the next room.

[musicaltheatregirlsandsongs]

Musical Theatre Song Contest: Round Three A

Submitter’s propaganda under the cut

Dust and Ashes

an absolutely heart wrenching, soul crushing, horrifying ordeal of looking back and realizing your life isn’t what you’d always wanted it to become type of song. no matter which Pierre is singing it, each actor has a certain way of expressing the depressing grief the character is feeling and truly makes you feel as though you’re singing this song of sadness and remote, far away hope with the actor themselves and everyone else in the theatre.

If you’ve never lit some candles and lay in your room listening to this song you’ve never experienced the depth of human emotion.

The first song in musical theater to feature a character’s reckoning with himself that he forgets by the time intermission ends

Haunting, moving, captured the frantic need of human connection yet being unable to grasp of successfully. It's Dave Malloy who's a legend. Most captivating song out there as gives you chills every time.

Chant

It matches perfectly to my walking speed and it's so fun to listen to while walkin around. You ever go up the stairs while listening to this song? Unparalleled

The combination of the defining themes of the musical over a kick-ass chorus. If you wanna keep your head ohhhh you gotta keep your head low…

[uniquejobs]

Logistics Job Openings | Allcargo Hiring Fresher Graduates | Chennai

Introduction Logistics Job Openings : Allcargo has Published notification for the vacancy of Junior Executive The educational qualification required to apply for this Logistics Job Openings is Any Degree Interested and eligible candidates can apply for Logistics Job Openings. There is enough time to apply for any job. Read Logistics Job Openings date, last date to apply, full details of…

[ourolite2]

　　　　　　 ༅ 𝒞irce 𝒴ué'li 𐙚 ˙

♱ all sobriquets + pseudonyms. ࿓ fang/master yuè’li ( legendary title + formal title ), circo/mr. circo ( playful + respectful, via yashmi ), sir ( his dogs + formal others ), sir circe/ sir yuè’li ( formalities/commonly respectful ).

ᰍ overall notables. plays an electric guitar (named it delune). has a bloodhound named babydoll and a doberman named yìzé. works as a part-time music teacher for 2nd - 3rd graders. asanbosam’s (the type of vampire he is) are more agile in trees and high places, so he’s kind of clumsy otherwise. often recommends products (notably the brand anzhong, originated by an upcoming oc of neso’s), random cleaning tips, or even seasonings. considers calling off of work a lot, though he knows if he does they’re bound to fire him this time. circe also doesn’t socialize too much, and he’s very territorial about his cottage (and so is yìzé— wonder where he gets that from). he’s a little too territorial actually, seeing as circe usually sucks the blood of/eats any trespassers that ignore his precaution signs. he does so by jumping down from the roof of the cottage or a tree and pinning them. (even friends get tackled if they don’t give him a heads up that they’re on the way!) ᰍ standard physical facts. 6'3. retractable wings with a 20 foot span, which are black and grey with red, pink and silver undertones, and retractable iron hooks for feet. tips of his hair turn auburn when he’s experiencing intense emotions. always smells like anzhong products- particularly colognes. has a chinese tattoo on his inner forearm that translates to damu héxián qín. his nails are painted black, but they get chipped easily because he’s really hands-on daily. lastly, he has a deep, relaxed and very distinctive voice which can be heard here!

დ genshin au notables! n/a ( temporarily ). დ spider-verse au notables! n/a ( temporarily ). დ jujutsu kaisen au notables! n/a ( temporarily ).

ᰍ age appearance. twenty-five ( 25 ). ᰍ birthday. may 9th. ᰍ nationality, race, + ethnicity. ( varies per au ), asanbosam, + senegalese and chinese. ᰍ gender, prns, + sexuality. male (amab), he/him, + omnisexual.

ᰍ sun sign. taurus. ᰍ MBTI. istp-a, the assertive virtuoso.

ᰍ likes. his electric guitar (delune— yes, he named her); playing the guitar is considered his biggest hobby, adoration and talent. his old doberman, yìzé, and his bloodhound babydoll. his cottage. alone time. blood oranges. ironically, loves garlic bread + garlic based dishes (especially pasta). scaring trespassers, or making his friends jump with jump-scares and shoulder-taps for a good laugh. coal black, wine red, and sometimes pink! strawberry icecream. philosophy and sacred music, especially within the selenian race. feminism. boots. silver jewelry. having his hands in aesthetically pleasing positions (pockets, behind his head while laying down,arms crossed, etc). anzhong products. people who use manners. sweethearts, but especially male sweeties (he just wants to pinch their cheeks ugh). MOTHAFUCKING INDIGO! <;3 ᰍ dislikes. random space invaders/leeches. too many home guests (or any really). yellow. stalkers/yanderes/yandere-coded people (specifically when targeted at him). pushy people. paranoia, pessimism + assumptions. difficult/slow learners (as a music teacher he struggles with younger kids that don’t process so easily). jellies and jams. the taste of vanilla. misogyny and misandry. bad hair days. getting stuff under his nails, especially when freshly done. vengeance, gossip + untrustworthiness. cooking for people, especially when there’s a lot of em’— no, even worse if they’re too picky.. bicycling. hot, summer days. being caught in the rain without a stylish umbrella. loud noises. dogs that bark too much.

･ﾟﾟ❥ quotes.

After It Rains ୨୧ “Jeez, what a mud bath. *Looks at his dogs.* Glad you two are out of your piglet puppy days heh heh. Guys? *Theyre walking away from him and he’s holding back laughter.* Was it something I said? Come ahhnn! I’m saying you liked the mud!”

About Jihane ୨୧ “The last time we spoke she foretold that my aura was yellow indefinitely. She was wrong. .. It’s red. *Looks off at something in the distance and pauses.* I’m not delusional.”

About Circe: Signature Dish ୨୧ “Nah. That’s a myth, just a little misconception. I use garlic in a lot of my dishes, especially pasta. The best kind I’ve tried thus far? Cherub Sin, easily. It’s a faultless dish. I personally believe the best noodle for any garlic and parmesan pasta is angel hair, and that dish recognizes it perfectly.”

Good Night ୨୧ “Hm.. Remember the night routine I showed you. Ice. Your. Face. Top priority, right? Alright then, and I bid you goodnight. *Nods off salute-like with two fingers and walks away.*”

oc masterlist. extended details. visualizer.

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