#at least you finally get to nut when he gets out of the bear trap

[saw-tistic]

saw vi is like edging for ppl with competence kinks because hoffman will pull off some of the hottest, most mouth-watering and brutal quick thinking i've ever seen in my life and then, just to shake it up, just to keep me humble, he'll make some utterly incomprehensible decision like using strahm's fingerprints to cover his tracks again, despite the fact it clearly didn't work the first time. and he does it in a room he was gonna set fire to anyway. the money i would pay for a single glimpse into his mind

[urlocaldesertdweller]

How far he is willing to go for you (Stanford x reader)

angst at first, then fluff

During his youth as much as you want to ignore it, he is going to put his studies and knowledge before you, especially when he starts to put all of his focus on the source of anomalies in Gravity Falls.

At first, you were fine with this. After all, you thought that this obsession for finding out about the truth was going to pass.

It only grew, as much as you wanted to ignore the cold empty spot in your once shared bed.

This obsession only grows once he meets Bill. Curiosity kills the cat. You couldn't stand any of it, the overbearing loneliness was becoming too much. And even the time you can tell that he hasn't been taking care of himself both physically and mentally.

He snaps at you when you even try to get him to go outside. He'd go into rambles and mutter about how you could never understand what is upon humanity with his greatest work in progress. You are stunned, to say the least.

You know it is hopeless to argue, he will only return back into that dusty, suffocating basement.

You went out by the time Stanford was pulled into that portal looking for a new place to stay.

But something brings you back to that dreaded cabin. And you saw "Stanford" acting different...something screamed that it wasn't your Stanford.

You are quick to see through the imposter's BS as you become aggressive and confrontational. You were never afraid to pull up a gun your Ford made and gave you for "emergencies".

The imposter turns out to be Stanford's twin brother as you continue to draw out more information while you learn more about Ford's family. Stan mutters under his breath a snarky comment about how Ford's managed to marry another equally as crazed weapon-wielding manic.

The news of hearing that the very same reason Stanford has been killing himself over has now trapped him in some dimension makes you feel sick. Stanly only tells you this, you are the only person he tells about the accident, he tells you to tell absolutely no one if you want to work together to start the portal back up once more for Ford.

You can't bear to live in that house anymore, especially over time you watch Stanley turn the home you once loved with Ford with all of your heart into a tourist trap. But you keep your mouth shut about your opinion against Stan, you only come around that ugly home to just hide yourself in the cold basement to work on the portal.

You went from lonely to lonely and bitter. Despite everything you thought about Ford in the last few times you interacted with him, you still loved him. Even if it felt like he was choosing a doomsday device over you. You are sure to remind yourself you get that sucker back in your arms you'll punch some sense into him.

Throughout the painfully long 30 years that have passed, you work tirelessly on the portal, looking for the other two journals, and struggling to keep yourself on the ground from going insane over this damn portal. Its form mocks you every time you look at it, only seeing it as the reason why Ford started to go nuts.

The summer when the new Pines twins come into town gives you another reason to drive you toward the future. From Mabel's lovely personality and lighthearted jokes to Dipper's similar antics to...Fords. The kids kept you grounded, and frankly, you treated them like your own, willing to do anything to keep them safe from any harm.

...

You'd never thought you finally see the portal open up once more after nearly destroying the entire town and getting arrested but the American government.

The figure walks out of the portal covered up from head to toe looking like from another time and world.

Your racing heart slows down as Stan explains to the twins that it was the author of the journals, his brother. To you, its Stanford the love and light of your life.

Things settle down as Ford punches Stan and then rants about how dangerous it was starting the portal again, the comment strikes a nerve. After 30 years, have you been working for this attitude for 30 fucking years?

Ford looks around looking at the new company, then his eyes lay on you wide as ever. They soften as he steps forward stretching out a hand. His tone changes to the quietest volume ever. The quick mood change confuses everyone in the room but you and Ford. Mabel is quick to catch on and gasp watching the old couple tension between you and Ford.

You tighten your face as you fist your hand and go straight into his cheek. It's your turn to rant now. From how he acted before the accident to the ungratefulness of bringing him back.

He frowns rubbing his pink cheek but he lets you rant and rant until you're out of breath, those 30 years made him forget how awful he became towards you and he completely regrets every second of it. He knows that he deserves you to be mad at him but his heart aches to touch you, feel you, and love you.

Mabel's widened grin along with everyone else is stunned by your punch and long-winded ranting of serious and complex situations within your relationship. You finish off finally with your arms tightly crossed.

The tension becomes completely awkward and everyone holds their breath looking between you and guilty-looking Ford. Stan definitely feels the weight of guilt is lifted from your interaction with Ford.

...

Ever since that day, your relationship has been rough for the first few days have been rough, Ford knew how you worked, you needed time that's all.

Eventually, you hold your breath and start talking to Ford within the first week. Of course, you'd never find yourself holding a grudge against your husband, especially at your age.

It's slow and bittersweet when Ford starts to blabber on about how sorry he was both how he treated you and his bitter reaction towards Stan and you turn on the machine for his return. To which he actually says thank you to you. It ends with both of you sniffling and tightly hugging one another, with Ford's fingers digging into your arms as if afraid of losing you once again.

Needless to say ever since that day and 30 years, he will put you before anything else. Forget the research, forget the studies, forget everything just not you.

...

As the days go by you feel a feeling you haven't felt in years, love, for your husband you thought not only fell out of love but also was lost to whatever dimension claimed him by the portal.

You both felt like a pair of flirty teenagers back in high school, from kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. If you were ever to do it in front of the twins including Stan, he would cover the twins' eyes to which he'll remind the two of you that you have an unwanted audience and to also get a room.

Stanford would also spend nearly all of his time with you, including having you have a more important role in his smaller projects and adventures!

Stanford would sketch you in whatever journal he jots his thoughts in. Mainly admiring how beautiful you along writing small poems about you. What a charmer.

Nearly every day he always makes sure to express his gratitude both for you waiting for him and starting the portal up for him. He'll have those moments where the past comes up to him and he feels guilt once more, he will hide away or just seem down even around you.

Of course, you'll be there to reassure him with both words and kisses which also brightens up his mood and face. It seems that no matter how old and how long your marriage will last he will always get all shy with kisses.

From his lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, each finger and knuckle, neck, literally anywhere. Bonus points if you wear lipstick and the kiss marks stay, he won't realize it until someone besides you points it out. He won't wipe it away though, he wears them like a medal of honor from your love.

If you were to ever renew your vows, Stanford is completely on board by the way. It's the youngest you'll ever feel. You both look dashing in your old, or new ceremony outfits. The twins of course were proud as ever no matter the timing for both their grunkle and in-law finding love even in the fit of chaos. <3

[watermelonlipstick]

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever. 

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

           “Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

           He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

           You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

           Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

           Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

           “The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

           That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

           He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

           “Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

           You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

           “You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

           “Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

           Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

           “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

           “No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

           “It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

           “Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

           “Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

           He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

           It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

           You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

           “Can you even stand?”

           You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

           “Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

           “I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

           He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

           “Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

           His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

           “Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

           “No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

           His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

           “Dude—”

           “Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

           “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

           “Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

           “If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

           “By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

           “Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

           “I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

           Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

           The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

           “I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

           “Long as you guys are alive.”

           He didn’t respond.

           After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

           You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

           A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

           You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

           “Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

           “A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

           Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

           He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

           The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

           You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

           “Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​ @vxnderlindes​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @akshi8278​ @itsjensenanddean​ @flannellover67​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @tj-drinks-tea​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @winchest09​ @winchestergirl2​ @samwisethegr8​ @nurse-sarahrn​ @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ @deanwanddamons​ @stressedoutkitten​ @winchestershiresauce​ @tatted-trina6​ @percico-heronstairs​ @downanddirtydean​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @lyarr24​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @fairlyspnfanfic​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @mimaria420​ @jensengirl83​ @zooaliaa​ @superfanficnatural​ @deangirl93​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Dad scenario: They get the wrong idea. 2

You and your boyfriend have the same birthday week, you bought him a gift he didn't get you shit! the of you argue and in the heat of it your dad walks in to see what's going on, just in time hear you yell this little gem. "FUCK YOU I'M KEEPING IT!" and all hell breaks lose!

-------------------------------------

Dabi: He heard you screaming and thought B/n had done something to you and barged just in time hear you yell. "FUCK YOU I'M KEEPING IT!" after a few seconds of silence you demanded to know what your boyfriend thought about that? but then you saw the horrified look on B/n's face, you were confused until you felt the temperature in the room spike, causing you start sweating oh...ooh noo....

You looked behind you and saw your very pissed off father standing in the doorway giving your boyfriend the Kubrick stare as smoke emanating from his hands. he slowly started toward B/n planning on burning him to ashes, before you intervened. "Get outta of my way Y/n..." he hissed his cerulean eyes focused on B/n who looked around trying to find an exit!

"Dad, just calm down... before you do something you regret." Dabi shot his daughter a look. "My regret is not carbonizing this pimply faced runt the second you introduced him!" he hissed while B/n awkwardly looked at himself the mirror. "Pimple face?" he whimpered hurt and bemused. "B/n shut-up!" you hissed then turned back to your dad and told him what was up...

Dabi seemed to calmed down, but that didn't mean he still wasn't pissed, he left you room and Y/n coaxed B/n off her bed, a few later days your boyfriend stopped by, still wary of your dad, who at the kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle when you can sprinting down the stairs and hugged B/n. "Thanks babe! I love it!" you squealed confusing the boy. "...what?" as you showed him a glass dolphin necklace then kissed him on the cheek before going to get your backpack. 

B/n awkwardly looked at your dad. "But I never got her..." Dabi cut him off. "Yes, you did runt..." He huffed while chewing on his pen cap, Your boyfriend looked at your dad like he grew three heads, No... he didn't get you anything and going to say this again!...then it clicked. "Oh." Dabi sighed annoyed."Sometimes I swear all that acnes soaking up what's left of your braincells..." 

Before B/n could respond you were downstairs and dragging him out the door and to the library... At least that where Dabi hopes your taking him! that backpack looked a little too full to just be carrying boo- your dad's eyes widened he suddenly burns his crossword puzzle and runs after the teens "Y/n!" 

--------------------------------------------

Fatgum/Taishiro: a loud pop and crunching noise was heard, you both turned to see your dad in his fat form standing in your doorway holding what used to be a family sized bag of chips in a death grip, a rare frown plastered on his face as gawked at both of you "What da heck is goin on 'ere?" the blond demanded taking a step towards B/n.

You immediately tried to defuse the situation, but for some moment of sheer stupidity your boyfriend decided to book it out the fire escape! and that caused you dad to go after him through the front door as your window was too small for him fit threw, You massaged your temples while inhaling sharply. "...oh, fuck me." and ran after you father and boyfriend! 

Now here's the the thing; Fatgum is fast as hell! regardless if he's in his Fat form, Fit Form or somewhere in between! and you unfortunately did not have years of hero training under your belt! so when you finally caught up to Your dad he had B/n trapped up a tree and circling it like hungry bear, luckily there weren't any people around or you'd die of embarrassment right now! 

"Ya can't stay up there forever B/n..."

"I can try..."

"And I can wait!"

"oh why did I run?"

B/n muttered as Taishiro stared up at him with a smug smirk, just as you came rounding the corner and tripping causing your dad to forget about your boyfriend and rush over to you. "Y/n! what are ya doin runnin' in yer condition?!" Your dad said panicking and picking you off the ground, causing you the scream in frustration demanding to be put down.

"I don't have a condition, I'm not pregnant!" You snapped Taishiro blinked then looked up at your boyfriend who was still in the tree nodded. "But what was that back da flat?" You explained the gift exchange the argument, Taishiro seemed to relax, but his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Okay...but did B/n run?" you shrugged. "I don't know, he's dumb!" your boyfriend protested that remark, then you told him to shut-up and get out of that tree! "I... can't, I kind of climbed up out of fear" B/n stated now realizing how far the ground was, Your dad just smirked and walked over to tree.

 "Just jump I got 'cha boy!" Taishiro said puffing out his stomach B/n complied and landed in your dad's gut, but instead of bouncing out you dad suddenly held B/n in his fat confusing the two teens. "Erm, Dad? what are you doin?" the blond looked back at his daughter. "I'm fat Taxiing B/n to da shops to get ya something! We'll be back later! Jellybean!" Taishiro ruffled your hair before running off.   

--------------------------------------------

Jin/Twice: He was currently pacing back and forth in the backyard  while holding a baseball bat and arguing with himself, before looking up. "C'mon... come down B/n I'm not gonna hurt you!~...-I'm gonna rip your nuts off and feed them to you!" You dad said with a smile trying to coax your boyfriend  off your house's roof, said boy was currently revaluating his choices for today. 

You got him a B-day present and he didn't get anything for you, And was prick about it! naturally you got angry and started crying and yelling at him, he suggested getting frisky as present, You slapped him and just as your dad walked to see what the commotion that's when you screamed "FUCK YOU I'M KEEPING IT!-GROSS! I DON'T WANT IT!" while hugging the present to yourself.  

"what did ya say? -Oh hell no!" Both you jumped you saw you dad standing in your door gawking at the two you, "Uh... h-hi daddy.~... G-Get out of my room old man!" you stammered Jin looked at your distraught state, then looked heatedly at your boyfriend... it didn't helped that he was holding a condom in his hand like an idiot...

 "Goddammit B/n, I thought you were one of the good ones!- Little shit! I had you pegged from the start!" Jin snarled next thing B/n knew your dad had a metal bat in his hands and coming at him! while you yelled after him. "Run, B/n my dad's seriously gonna kill you!- Stop running like a pussy and face him like a man!" …

B/n sighed exasperated all this could've been hell of a lot easier if he had just pulled his head out of his ass, and gotten you flowers or something! then this whole situation could've been avoided!...Also Jin found out you weren't pregnant hours ago! But now he’s pissed that B/n was being a dick to you earlier and trapped him on the roof! 

Jin had the bat behind his back and call up to B/n "Look dude, I'm not mad I promise!- Come take your lumps dammit!" He smiled coyly as B/n looked at him blankly before looking up at the starry sky praying your mom gets home soon!

--------------------------------------------

[intheticklecloset]

Villainous Ways (My Hero Academia)

One Shot

Remember how a couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I’d written something different that I was really happy with but I couldn’t post it yet because we were in the middle of the 12 Days? Well...this is it! I wanted to experiment a little with Shigaraki because I love him so much as a character, and this is what I came up with. I personally really like this one! Keep in mind, though, that as it was purely experimental I DO NOT think I can write any more fics for the MHA villains at the moment, so please don’t ask! I can’t do it justice right now, but maybe one day! The next fics I release will be filled requests, so keep an eye out for those. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy a break with the villains!

~

The way Tomura Shigaraki scratched at his neck drove Himiko Toga nuts.

It wasn’t the fact that he did it that bothered her. She was plenty familiar with pain and if Shigaraki wanted to irritate his skin by constantly scratching at it like that, that was his business. What bothered her about it was how often he did it. All the time, it felt like, when he was thinking out loud or frustrated at the heroes or just bored, he’d scratch at his neck and mutter to himself and it was simply driving her up the wall.

Finally, one night, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Those blasted heroes think they’re so high and mighty,” Shigaraki grumbled, reaching up to scratch yet again. “They think just because they have big, flashy quirks—”

“Stop it, Tomura!” Toga snapped, getting to her feet, pushing her barstool to the ground in the process.

Shigaraki paused and looked at her. “Stop what? I’m just stating the facts. You know them as well as I do.”

“I don’t care about that,” Toga replied with a sigh. She curled her fingers and hovered them over her neck in a phantom imitation of what he’d just been doing. “It’s this. You scratching your neck all the time. You’ve got to stop; it’s irritating.”

He was silent for a moment. He lowered his scratching hand so it lay on the bar. “What does it matter to you if I do it or not?”

“It doesn’t. If you want to rip up your skin you can be my guest.” Toga narrowed her eyes at him. “Just don’t do it around me. It drives me crazy to see you doing it all the time.”

Shigaraki shrugged and began scratching again. “I don’t care if it bothers you. What drives you insane is your problem.”

Toga took a step toward him. “I’m warning you, Tomura. I’ll make you stop if I have to.”

He chuckled and finally turned to look at her fully. “And how, exactly, do you intend to do that? Have you forgotten about my quirk?”

Crap. For a split second, she had forgotten. But then she smiled sweetly at him and advanced even further. “Aw, but you won’t use it on me, will you, Tomura? You need me.”

“You are easily replaced.”

“You don’t mean that.” She was right in front of him now, standing before him while he remained seated on his barstool, one hand still on his neck. “This is your last warning. Stop doing that in front of me, or I’ll make you stop.”

Even behind the hand covering his face, she could tell he was smirking. “I’d love to see you try.”

Toga shrugged, then stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug.

Thrown entirely off-guard, Shigaraki froze where he was, one hand still near his neck while the other lay on the bar beside him. He frowned. “Toga. What are you doing?” Then all of a sudden he felt a sharp zing of…something…shoot down his spine, making him arch his back and – to his horror – let out a tiny giggle. “W-What?!”

She giggled, too, and murmured in his ear, “Aw. Are you ticklish, Tomura?”

Ticklish?

NO.

“Get off me,” he demanded, moving to push her away with the palms of his hands so as not to hurt her, but only managing to arch further into her grasp when she kneaded the back of his ribs. “N-No! Don’t do that! Toga!”

“I warned you, didn’t I?” Toga teased into his ear. He squirmed in her grip but was going nowhere fast. She was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be. “Now. Stop scratching your neck when I’m in the room, or I’ll tickle you until you’re begging me for mercy.”

Shigaraki growled. “I never beg.”

“Liar.” Toga pressed into his ribs again, smirking at the whine and violent jolt she got in response. “We’ve all heard you talk to your master. You begged him plenty. I can make you beg now.”

Shigaraki was stuck. He couldn’t push her away without hurting her – and despite his bold claims from before, he did actually need her around – but he didn’t want to admit defeat over something as stupid as this. That left him with only one option.

“Well? What’s it going to be?”

He growled again. At least she couldn’t see his face.

“Bring it on. I’m not sensitive enough to be brought down by someone like you.”

“No?” Toga dug in without warning, drilling her fingers into his ribs from behind, grinning in satisfaction when he spasmed and yelped, grabbing onto the bar for dear life. “I don’t know. You seem plenty ticklish to me.”

“S-Shut up! I’m n-not – no!” Shigaraki tried to slide off the barstool, but in a flash Toga was shoving him back so he was pinned between her and the bar, with nowhere to go and no way to grab onto it anymore. He instinctively tried to push her away, having to force himself not to use his full strength against her. “Stop! I-I’m not…I’m juhuhust a little…s-sensitihive!”

Toga smirked and released him from her tickly hug, only to dig into his ribs from the front. This time he actually giggled, though it sounded choked and forced, like he was trying to cover it up as a weird coughing fit.

“What’s the matter, Tomura? Don’t like being called ticklish?” she teased him, keeping him trapped against the bar anytime he tried to get away from her assault.

“I-I’m not!” he insisted, despite his obvious grunting chuckles and attempts to push her away or slide off the barstool.

“You are.” She shoved her hands into his underarms and dug like she was mining for gold, and Shigaraki squealed and shot his arms to his sides automatically, only trapping her hands where they were as she tickled him mercilessly.

“S-Stohohop! Toga, I-I’m not t-t-tihihi-gah!” He tried kicking her now, but she merely dodged his leg and stepped closer to him to shorten his range.

“That wasn’t very nice.” She grabbed onto his thighs and dug in there. “I think I deserve an apology.”

“W-Wait! Wahahahahahait, nohohohoho!” Finally the dam burst and Shigaraki laughed openly, not trying to fight it anymore. He doubled over, helpless as she attacked what appeared to her to be his worst spot yet. “Stahahahahahahap! Togahahahahaha!”

“You stop scratching your neck, and I’ll let you go.”

“Fihihihihihihihine! You wihihihin, curse you! I’ll stohohohohop!”

“And you need to apologize for trying to kick me.”

“Whahahahahahat?” He shook his head. “Nohohohoho way, you desheheherved that!”

Toga shrugged and found a super sensitive spot with her thumbs, drilling with deadly precision into his thighs closer to his hips.

Shigaraki tossed his head back and shrieked. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FINE!! FINE, OKAHAHAY, I’M SOHOHOHOHOHORRY!! STOP IT!!”

“And,” Toga beamed at her inevitable victory, leaning into his ear again, “you have to admit you’re ticklish. Ticklish, not sensitive.”

“TOGA YOU BIHIHIHI-AAAAAAHHH!!!” Shigaraki’s curse was cut off by her digging in with relentless meticulousness, searching for that one spot that would make him lose all sense of self-control and only allow him to think of self-preservation. “FINEFINEFINESTOHOHOOOOOOP!! I’M TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLISH, OKAY?! I’M TICKLISH NOW STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Smiling wide, Toga finally released him and stepped back, watching him as he gasped for air and shakily clung to the bar so as not to fall over. “There! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Y-You…you dare to attack your leader?” Shigaraki growled once more, trying to regain his bearings and appear menacing at the same time. “If I didn’t need you for our plans, I would—”

“Aha! You do need me! You said so yourself!”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, with a long sigh, he turned his back on her. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Toga smirked and went back to her own seat. “I’m a villain, Tomura. I promise to be nothing but evil.”

“Curse you.”

“Happy to be of service.”

[jacobsnicket]

friday night tea party

Prompt No: #2 “You have no proof.”

Fandom: The Secret Series

Rating: T (for a singular use of the word “dick”)

Warnings: n/a

Read on AO3

It’s a quiet Friday evening, late enough in the year that the leaves have decided to fall but early enough that it’s not overly cold. The Nuts Table regulars (plus Benjamin — it’s difficult to figure out whether he counts as a regular since he was only sitting at the Nuts Table for a few months before his parents withdrew him) are sitting around the big table at Larry and Wayne’s, drinking tea. Or at least some of them are.

Cass and Daniel have already finished their cups. Glob has dumped so much sugar into his that the sugar has stopped dissolving. Yo-Yoji has politely declined on the grounds of not liking tea much in the first place. Max-Ernest and Benjamin’s cups sit cold in their hands as they discuss something or another.

Glob, deciding that his cup of damp, vaguely tea-flavored sugar is a lost cause, pushes it away and leans over to Benjamin. “So, Ben, what happened to you?”

Benjamin stares at him, confused.

“You know, like when you showed up at school, you were all posh and fancy and you wore a monocle like a fancy person, but then after like the third day of school you completely changed.”

Daniel rests his elbows on the table. “Yeah, like you stopped talking and you stopped wearing tuxedos and stuff like that. And then your parents pulled you out. So what happened?”

Benjamin stiffens. Max-Ernest’s grip on his teacup tightens. They both share a single, scared glance before Max-Ernest speaks. “Benjamin was acting weird before, actually, with all the fanciness and whatnot. Cass just… brought him to his senses.”

Cass snorts. “Yeah, by knocking him out.”

“You knocked him out?” Daniel all but screams.

Cass leans back in her chair, nonchalant. “What? He was being a dick—“

“You can’t say that!”

“What? We’re eighth graders now. I think we can say dick.”

Yo-Yoji kicks his feet up on the table. “Well, I just think that, like, the first month of school was just an absolute mess. Like, Cass went into a coma—“

Daniel swings his arms out so wide he nearly knocks over his teacup. “You went into a coma?”

“You didn’t know about the coma?”

“She went into a coma, and then she came out of the coma, and Benjamin started being fancy and then he stopped being fancy and Max-Ernest acquired eldest child syndrome! And then at RenFaire Glob ditched us to go get corn dogs—“

“You have no proof of that, by the way!”

“It’s literally on your blog, dude— and then you got trapped with that… weird cult or something, and I got caught for illegally joining the joust and barely avoided getting expelled, and then we all had to go save you. So it was just. Wild.”

Max-Ernest nods awkwardly. “Yeah. Totally wild. But you should probably get your feet off the table. Larry and Wayne might get mad at you for ruining an antique.”

“Nah, it’s from Ikea,” says Cass. “They could never bear to actually use any of their antique tables.”

“Yeah. Good to know.” Max-Ernest finally takes a sip of his tea. He grimaces. “You know, I’m actually mad that no one laughed at my joke.”

Daniel frowns at him. “What joke?” Max-Ernest, somewhat surprisingly, didn’t seem to have made any jokes today.

“The ‘brought him to his senses’ one!”

Yo-Yoji laughs. “That was a joke?”

Max-Ernest sputters. “What— what do you mean— like, because “brought him to his senses”— and he has synesthesia— “

“I was kidding, bro.”

Max-Ernest was silent for a second. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’m still upset that you all keep accusing me of ditching you for corn dogs when I actually did no such thing,” Glob says suddenly.

“Literally no one asked.”

“I thought we were all saying things we were mad about!”

“I’m sorry, Glob, but denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” Cass says in her best mock-sympathetic voice. “It’s also a thing you really need to stop doing.”

Glob slams his hands down on the table, causing the teacups to all rattle loudly. “Stop saying I ditched you for corn dogs! It’s not true!”

“Okay, Jeremy,” Benjamin mumbles.

Max-Ernest stares at him, his face seemingly going through the five stages of grief in record time. “Jeremy?”

The room goes silent.

And then it explodes. (Metaphorically.)

“What the heck— is your name Jeremy?”

“Uh, yeah? Did you all think Glob was my real name?”

“That is the whitest name I have ever heard.”

“Well, at least his name isn’t Chris. Or Kyle.”

“Oh, god, Kyle…”

“I mean, I did try to get it legally changed to Glob, but my mom wouldn’t let me.”

“Wait!” Daniel shouts. The room quiets down again, for a given definition of quiet. “Benjamin! How did you know his real name?”

Benjamin shrugs.

“That is not helpful, Benjamin!”

[havenoffandoms]

Man’s Best Friend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786457/chapters/73307826#workskin

Summary: When Eskel can’t stomach any human interaction, Lambert brings in the big guns.

This is just an excuse to write some Lil Bleater and Eskel fluff. Check out the link on AO3 for the series @creativwit and I have created (titled the Eskel Fluff Dump, to go with our Eskel Whump Dump, because we’re creative like that). 

Lambert knows that today is not a good day for Eskel when he sees his brother trudging into the kitchen, hair still tousled from where it rested on his pillow all night, and still in his cotton braies and shirt he always wears to bed. Eskel isn't in the habit of not cleaning up before breakfast. In fact, on most occasions when Lambert came down for breakfast Eskel will have been awake for hours already, either getting a headstart on his chores or reading in the library. Not today, it seems. Today Eskel looks like shit.

And Lambert tells him that in the nicest, most caring way possible.

"You, brother, look like you've been dragged by a zeugl through the shitty sewers of both Novigrad and Oxenfurt."

Lambert's easy banter, meant to lighten Eskel's sour mood, only earns him a raised middle finger in response. Which is strange in and of itself, because Eskel is not one for rude gestures. Eskel can destroy a man's reputations using only his words and wit. Lambert knows because he's witnessed it once in his lifetime and to this day the innkeep in Ard Carraigh will let anyone who mentions the name Eskel sleep and eat for free in his establishment.

"Okay, tough crowd," Lambert clicks his tongue once, wrecking his brain for a way to engage Eskel. The latter picks up an apple and a jug of water (at least Lambert hopes it's water and not ale… or vodka) before shuffling out of the kitchen again without sparing Lambert a glance or a word.

Strange. Lambert really should investigate.

__________

"Hey Geralt!"

"Lambert."

Lambert finds Geralt in the stables mucking out Roach's stall. Lambert makes sure to pat his own gelding on the nose in greeting before addressing his brother again.

"Seen Eskel this morning?" Lambert asks casually, as if he's not still internally freaking out at just how terrible their brother looked this morning. Geralt glances up at Lambert briefly, and if Lambert wasn't as well-versed in Geralt's body language he would have missed the concern flash in his yellowish eyes.

"Briefly as he was heading down for breakfast."

"Alright. So maybe you can tell me what crawled up his ass and died there?"

Geralt shrugs his shoulders and resumes his shovelling motion.

"He didn't speak much."

"Exactly. Usually he at least spares a good morning. Not even that! He flipped me off this morning," Lambert adds for emphasis, because if Geralt is unwilling to see the severity of the situation then Lambert will make him see it.

"You probably had it coming."

"Beside the point, as usual, pretty boy. Eskel doesn't do shit like that."

"He's only human. Every man has a breaking point."

Lambert throws his hands up in the air dramatically and rolls his eyes at Geralt in an exasperated manner. How does the bard do it, Lambert wonders! It's like Geralt is doing his best to be dense.

"Fine! If you're no help, maybe papa Vesemir will know."

With those words, Lambert leaves the stables and heads straight for the library where he's sure to find the old man.

__________

"No Lambert, I haven't seen Eskel this morning," Vesemir informs him without looking up from the book he's reading, "though I heard him toss and turn all night."

"Probably why he went back to bed this morning after I saw him," Lambert muses. Vesemir looks up then, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Eskel went back to bed?" the old witcher asks, worry barely noticeable in his tone but Lambert just knows . "That's not like him."

"Exactly what I thought."

"Did he say anything to you when you saw him?"

Lambert describes their encounter to Vesemir and watches the man's frown deepen when Lambert mentions that Eskel didn't even bother to get dressed. So Lambert isn't crazy. It is odd seeing Eskel this way.

"This is peculiar," Vesemir comments when Lambert is done, "very peculiar. Did you three drink last night?"

"Nope." Lambert probably takes too much pride in that single statement. So what? He's not drank a drop in two days, where's his medal? "Nope, we all had an early night. Unless Eskel hides a stash of secret alcohol and fisstech from us. If he does, then Vesemir can you please tell him that it's rude not to share with his brothers?"

Vesemir rolls his eyes at that statement, but the worried frown doesn't subside. Lambert is starting to feel agitated himself. If Eskel isn't willing to talk to any of them, if he's intent on avoiding all of them, then how is Lambert supposed to help? Suddenly, an idea hits him.  He manages a quick "Be right back!" in Vesemir's general direction before he leaves the library. He takes the steps two by two and jumps down the last five before dashing to the stables once again. Geralt is long gone, but that doesn't matter. Lambert doesn't need pretty boy's help to carry out his plan.

__________

"Come on, you stupid son of a bitch," Lambert curses as he tries to tie a leash around Lil Bleater's neck, "your dad needs some goat loving!"

Lil Bleater bleats indignantly, then hisses and coughs at him. Lambert didn't even know goats could do that! Creatures from hell they are, he thinks to himself as he grabs Lil Bleater by the horns when she tries to headbutt him in the family jewels.

"You little shit! How are you so tame around Eskel? What does he do to earn your love, she-devil?"

Lil Bleater manages to dislodge her head from Lambert's grasp and once again aims straight for his nuts. Lambert is quick enough to dodge, the Goddess be blessed, and the goat catches him in the thigh instead. Behind him, Lambert hears Scorpion huff and nicker at his predicament. Lambert glares at the stallion over his shoulder.

"I swear to the Gods, you're no horse! Admit it! You're a person trapped in the body of a horse."

Scorpion whinnies in response, then turns his back on Lambert to eat his oats in peace. Lambert will maintain that Scorpion is no regular horse until the day he dies. That horse is far too clever for his own good! Lambert puts those thoughts to one side for the time being. He's got an angry goat to tame. Maybe he should get Geralt to help?

Lambert heaves a sigh. The things he'll do for his brother.

__________

Lambert resorts to using Axii to get the she-devil inside the keep, past Vesemir's attention and up the stairs to Eskel's room. Whatever it is that's troubling Eskel, Lambert is convinced that a cuddle from his faithful Lil Bleater will chase all the dark thoughts away. At least Lambert hopes it will. He's not sure how easily he can sneak a horse into the keep. Yes, Scorpion is his plan B. Your point?

When Lambert reaches Eskel's door, he lifts Axii and tightens his grip on the leash in case Lil Bleater attempts a flash escape. The goat takes several seconds to gather her wits and get her bearings, but to Lambert's surprise she doesn't bleat, or scream, or cough or hiss, when she sees him standing so close to her. Instead, she stares at Eskel's bedroom door and her little tail starts wagging furiously. Aha. So she's been here before, has she? Eskel, Eskel… what would papa Vesemir say?

Lambert knocks on the door, a small smile gracing his lips when he sees the goat bounce around him in excitement. Alright, even Lambert has to admit that the thing is cute when she's not trying to headbut him in the nuts.

"Eskel?"

"Go away," comes the muffled response.

"Alright I will, but first there's someone here who wants to see you."

Lil Bleater chooses this exact moment to let out a heartbroken bleat. Her human is right there, behind this very door, so why isn't she getting to see him yet? Lambert's grin grows when he opens the door and lets the goat run inside the room, heading straight for Eskel's bed. She leaps onto the mattress easily, like she's probably done countless times before. Eskel, who is currently buried under the covers, shifts when he feels Lil Bleater lick at his face. A large hand comes to pet her behind the ear, causing Lil Bleater's tail to wag even more energetically than before.

"Hey girl," Lambert hears Eskel greet her, the gravel in his voice completely gone, "hey, watcha doin' up here?"

"Let's just say uncle Lambert knew that her dad wasn't feeling up to human interaction today, so he thought he'd bring in the big guns."

Eskel peeks at Lambert over his shoulder and his expression softens. He still looks like shit - dark rings under his eyes, hair sticking out, and the funky smell in the room tells Lambert Eskel hasn't opened a window in, oh, probably decades. But despite all of this, there's a smile tugging at the edges of Eskel's lips when Lil Bleater insistently licks at his scars.

"Thank you," he whispers sincerely, "for understanding."

"Hey brother, what is family for? If you need us we'll be about the keep somewhere."

Eskel nods before curling up under the covers again. Lil Bleater finally settles as well and plops down next to Eskel, nestled in the warm spot created by Eskel pulling his legs halfway up to his chest in a foetal position. Lambert's smirk softens into a smile at the sight. Eskel and Lil Bleater, friends for life. Lambert gently closes the door behind him and gives the two some well-deserved privacy.

As Lambert heads downstairs again, whistling a happy tune on his way, he can't help but feel grateful that he doesn't have to resort to his plan B.

[narcissasdaffodil]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @daisybarks

I’m tagging @kiki-the-creator @hopeshoodie @juggalohenrik @eskiix and @rennell

This is a little snippet from enough for you, which is my most recent WIP. This is the cheating fic, which I’ve likely referenced. This might not make sense out of context.

The other three piled into the back, Aislinn in the middle and the other two having window seats. Bobby handed the others their food and sat back with his arms folded. “Aw, come on! I wanted shotgun! And why is this car such a mess?” Bobby grumbled, his heart not fully in it.

“It was worse than this. We actually cleared it slightly to make room for everyone. And Marisol did say that one of us could take shotgun, and I let Lucas have it because he’s taller.” Hope pointed out once she chewed her mouthful.

“It smells weird in here too. Is there an air freshener?”

“It’s broken. Olivia forgot to replenish it. I haven’t noticed the smell if I’m honest, I’m used to it.” Marisol finished her breakfast, grabbing the empty bags and got out of the car, binning them and made her way back to the car, putting on her seatbelt. As she started the car, the sat nav came on and she left it there. She was going to try and rely on her memory, which might not be the best idea.

Once everyone plugged in their seatbelts, they set off. Marisol followed signs for the motorway until she got stuck in a queue getting onto the M4. It was crawling, and she opened the windows to let some fresh air in. The air conditioning only blew hot air and was next to useless.

As the car stopped, Bobby started rooting around at his feet until he discovered a bag full of ketchup bottles and another bag of chocolate, crisps, nuts and sweets. In addition to the two bags, there was a lot of sweet stuff sitting on the floor.

“Who needs an entire bagful of ketchup bottles? Eight bottles in one bag!” He studied the bag, slightly perplexed.

“Wait, what? So that’s where all the ketchup went! I kept buying bottles, and Olivia clearly kept swiping them. Eight bottles, really?” Marisol’s eyes widened at the mention of the ketchup. Bobby handed Lucas the bagful of ketchup, who studied it himself.

“Most of these are open, and half full. What’s the point of starting a new one when the old one is already half full? I was checking that side of the car as well, how did I miss this?” Lucas checked the bottles in the bag. “Some of these are expired too, quite the stash! One or two years out of date.”

“Eww. See what you can salvage, and we’ll bin the rest when we get to the beach. What a waste of good ketchup, I even bought Heinz! I can’t believe she was stealing it.” Marisol stared at the bag, slightly miffed. “That being said…I did use it for a lot of meals, I did have a little ketchup problem. It would vanish every single time we had an argument. Which means she was taking it then to be petty, likely. It’s a major pet peeve, she sees it as such a waste.”

“More of a waste is definitely her stealing it, as of course you’d buy more! Does the money she’s wasting ever come into it?” Aislinn asked.

“Nope, no way. She’s the type who broke her phone last month and had her parents buy her the newest iPhone in replacement. It wasn’t even cracked or damaged, so she let me have it. I changed everything over, her parents aren’t paying for my phone as well. It was going to go to waste completely otherwise, she would’ve just binned it.” Marisol laughed slightly at the idea of Olivia even thinking about money. The same person who regularly spent £400 on clothes per week and went on regular shopping sprees definitely wasn’t the type to care about the money she’s wasting.

She looked back at the road just as the queue moved and moved forward again. “Found anything else that is edible? There’s bound to be food hanging about.”

“Gummy worms, gummy bears, strawberry laces, Strawbs, this bag is all sweets. There’s a soft container of Pringles too, I wouldn’t touch those. There’s also unopened bags of fruit and nuts so I’ll take those out. Most of the chocolate is fine too, and the unopened crisp bags. This is quite the stash! Half of it is empty packets. Did she just use the car for a dustbin?” Bobby handed Lucas the dodgy snacks, who just bagged them with the dodgy ketchup.

“She pretty much used the car as a bin, yup. And she kept stealing the sweet stuff from the flat, so I had to keep hiding my biscuits and chocolate. Eventually we agreed that she would buy her own sweet stuff and quit taking mine. Guess I didn’t clarify that sweet stuff meant ketchup too, and she couldn’t just steal stuff in petty revenge.” Marisol explained. To her relief, the queue started moving quickly and she took advantage, getting onto the motorway without too much fuss. She wasn’t a fan of driving on motorways.

“The window’s not working again, could you please open it from your side?” Lucas asked.

Marisol opened both windows, the car was starting to get absolutely roasting. The feet smell was starting to get to her slightly.

“The windows in the back don’t work, by the way. Hopefully you guys are fine with just these ones open.” Marisol called in the direction of the back, the others nodded in response.

“Can we get rid of some of the mess at the beach? There’s sandwich containers, coffee cups and something squishy back here.” Bobby prodded the something squishy and took his hand away fast. “That’s definitely gum. Why has she stuck that on the back of the seat?” He pulled it off with a tissue, wiping away the residue.

“We can get rid of the leftovers, coffee cups and sandwich containers at least. Or anything that’s gone off. The rest of it, I don’t know what she wants done with it. She might’ve left, but it’ll seem a bit too final to clear out nearly all of it…” Marisol’s voice faded slightly and she bit her lip. “Look, I’m not overly pleased with the state of it myself. But I’ve got bigger fish to fry currently. I’ve had too many arguments with Olivia over it, and she made it worse to mess with me. I gave up mentioning it eventually. You’ve been complaining so much, it’s getting on my nerves.”

Marisol focused on the road ahead, chewing on her lip.

“Yeah, you’ve made your point. Maybe me and Lucas are just more used to it, but it’s been far worse than this before.” Hope broke in before Bobby decided to reply.

“Why didn’t we just split into two cars anyway? I wouldn’t have minded driving, and it’s a little cramped in the back. Driving’s not ideal, I prefer shotgun, but Lucas nabbed that. We could’ve split into me and Lucas in one car, and you three in this one.” Bobby grumbled.

Lucas stared at Marisol in panic, his eyes widened at Bobby’s statement. “That wouldn’t work. You barely paused for breath when we got lost yesterday, and during the first film of the Harry Potter marathon. I couldn’t handle it then, being trapped in a car with just you wouldn’t work.”

Marisol’s mouth twitched, and she struggled to not burst into laughter, putting on the radio instead. Classical music burst out of the speakers, and she jumped. Aislinn quickly synced up her phone to the radio, attaching it via a charging wire. She instructed Lucas in the front, who followed her instructions and in no time at all, a playlist replaced the classical music.

“Phew. I forgot Olivia always listens to Classic FM, on loud. She’s even had noise complaints, from classical music of all things. And, Bobby, if you want to drive on the way back, be my guest! It made completely no sense to split into two cars just because you couldn’t handle the mess.” The hot car was making Marisol slightly grumpy, and she snapped at him.

The car fell silent as they became absorbed in the music. Marisol and Aislinn had done far too much drunk karaoke, and she recognised the playlist from that. Hold the Line started playing and Marisol started singing along to it, forgetting the others were in the car. The energy carried through the car and lasted until the end of the song. She stopped, slightly breathless and blinked, wide eyed.

“Wow. I forgot how good you were at this. My favourite karaoke partner ever. Maybe we should try it again, but sober?” Aislinn said.

Her words stunned Marisol slightly, and she blushed. “R...Really? You think I’m that good? I doubt that, I freeze up on stage. Drunk karaoke is slightly different.” Yeah, no. That’s not happening. Not after that time in secondary school, when you auditioned for the school talent show and got so nervous that you were sick backstage, and your throat closed up while on stage. You couldn’t sing anything and tripped coming off stage on a loose shoelace and wiped out. To make matters worse, it was recorded and passed around the school until you were known for that. Your sister hated being associated with you as a result and it was so embarrassing.

Marisol fell silent, chewing on her lip and listening to the music. She signalled and moved into the left lane, ready to come off the motorway.

She focused entirely on driving and only relaxed when she got to the car park. She parked and let out a sigh of relief. “No sat nav needed at all, and not a foot wrong. That proves it, I’ve got a better sense of direction than Olivia.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone does.” Bobby pointed out. “Along with being better at being on time. I had to tell her a fake time for my birthday two months ago and she was still late.”

[shirtlesssammy]

1x02: Wendigo

Then:

No Chick Flick Moments

Now:

In Blackwater Ridge, Colorado, three dudes enjoy the wilderness by gaming inside their tent. Something stalks their campsite from the shadows but the unattended fire that’s dangerously close to their flammable homes must be keeping it at bay, right? Erm, well, one dude heads out to the little boy’s room (a nearby tree) and gets snatched. 

Another one pops his head out the tent door and gets snatched as well. The third dude kills his light and watches the shadow of a very fast creature circle his tent until it slashes the side and snatches him as well. 

Palo Alto, California

Sam’s visiting Jessica’s grave. It really didn’t affect me the first time I watched this. It’s devastating to watch now though. Knowing Sam now --knowing how he doesn’t let people in, knowing how he didn’t even really let Jess in but loved her and wanted this world he could never have with her. Knowing that it’s fifteen years later and he’s had no one to really be with (Amelia was a construct of his damaged brain when forced to face the supernatural without Dean or Cas. I will not be taking questions at this time.) (But I guess he gets a blurry wife so ALLS GOOD FOR SAMMY.) He tells Jessica, “I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth.” Gah. Nothing could have saved her, and he has to go another fifteen years before he realizes this for good. 

Psych! He was actually dreaming, but I hold firm with my thoughts on the dream scene. 

Dean asks if Sam is okay. 

Sam says yes and clears his throat. Classic! Then Dean asks if Sam wants to drive for a while. GAH. Like, Dean’s looking out for his little bro in the only way he knows right now --letting him drive. 

They discuss leaving Palo Alto, and Dean points out that if they’re going to find the thing that killed Jess, they have to find their dad. He’s sending them to Colorado. Specifically to a National Forest in Lost Creek, Colorado. 

They get to the warden’s station and introduce themselves as Environmental Study majors from UC-Boulder. “Recycle, man.” Bbys. The ranger sees right through their bullshit though. He asks if they’re friends with “that Hailey girl.” Dean sees his chance to learn more and leans into it. Hayley apparently has a brother that’s on Blackwater Ridge. He isn’t technically missing but she knows something is up. 

Dean gets the brother’s camping permit. And now I need to process the next couple of lines. Sam asks if Dean wants a hook up with Hailey. Like, fuck you Sam for not knowing your brother at all, but also I guess you’re forgiven because your brother does do everything in his power to project that kind of energy. However, Dean is working the case and wants to know what they’re dealing with on this mountain. 

Dean and Sam head over to Hailey’s to ask her about her brother, Tommy. They say they’re rangers.

Hailey gets on Dean’s good side by complementing his car. Hailey tells the brothers that she feels something is wrong because Tommy checks in every day via his cell and satellite phone. Hailey’s heading out first thing in the morning to try and find him. 

Later at a bar, Sam “NERD” Winchester pulls out his extensive research on the area. People disappear on the ridge every 23 years. There was one survivor in 1959. They go to interview him. He tries to stick to the grizzly bear story, but eventually admits that they won’t believe him since no one else ever did. He said it moved fast and came into their cabin. It took his parents and left him with a horrible scar. 

The next morning, Sam and Dean meet up with Hayley, her brother Ben, and the guide, Roy. The guide is skeptical but Dean just wants to help find her brother. 

Cut to Tommy tied up in a cave. He wakes just in time to watch one of his friends get chomped to pieces by the monster. 

Dean and Roy try to out alpha each other. Roy finds a bear trap and saves Dean from a nasty injury. I’m over here wondering wtf that’s doing in the middle of a national forest. 

Hayley calls Dean out on their lack of provisions and wants to know who they are. He comes clean and tells her that they’re brothers looking for their father. But also, uh, Dean wearing jeans and boots is way more practical than SHORTS when hiking. Who wants to fuck around with ticks and poison ivy? All these years we thought Dean was just posturing about shorts when he was actually being a practical son of a bitch. 

They reach the ridge and hear absolutely nothing. Roy decides he’s going to wander off alone. Solid choice, dude. The rest stick together. Soon they hear Roy call for Hailey. They run to him. They find her brother’s destroyed campsite. They find tracks of where the bodies were dragged and Tommy’s destroyed phone.

They explore the campsite, which is torn to absolute bits. Dean tracks the struggle to just outside of the campsite, where the trail quickly grows cold. Everyone gets lured further into the woods by desperate cries for help but it gets them nowhere. When they return to the destroyed camp, Sam pulls out their dad’s journal and they use it to pinpoint the monster: it’s a wendigo. 

They hunker down for the night at the camp, and Dean protects them with Anasazi symbols drawn in the dirt. Soooooooooo in one breath you’re telling me that wendigo are found around the upper midwest / Canada, and in the next you’re telling me that the Anasazi (Southwestern/Western US) created widely-established protections against the wendigo? STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA. The timelines! The geographic areas! Sigh...Supernatural ain’t ever had that good of a track record.

Dean tries to unpack Sam’s gourd. Sam doesn’t want to waste time hunting a wendigo when he can find their dad and hunt for what killed Jess instead. Dean holds out John Winchester’s journal like it’s a friggin’ (gags a little) bible and delivers the now-iconic line: “I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam wants to know why John doesn’t just call his boys and give them an update - “It makes no sense.” OMG RIGHT, SAM? #JohnWinchester’sA+Parenting 

Dean tells Sam that helping other people and other families is what helps him make it through each day. We cry in Dean’s face a little, even when he immediately attempts to mask his empathy in his very next (also iconic) line: “Let me tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

Pleas for help start to echo through the woods again. Roy fires indiscriminately into the trees and races after his prey, sight unseen. Hands grab him by the head and haul him up into the trees. Everyone else makes it through the night safely and Roy’s demise reminds us that toxic masculinity KILLS.

The next morning, Sam’s moodily staring at their dad’s journal while Dean chats with Haley about the hunt. 

For LOOK AT THIS BEAN Science:

We get info-dumped a truly mixed bag of lore, attributing wendigo tales to the Cree people (right region, at least!) and saying that wendigo are created by cannibalistic acts gone into overdrive. The implication here is that cannibalism equals power but alas, it also turns one into a monster. Wendigo like to squirrel away humans like nuts, so Haley’s brother might be alive and trapped for later snacking. And they can kill it! Kill it with fire. 

Cut to Dean striding through the woods with a molotov cocktail in hand. THAT’S MY BOY. They follow an easy trail of bloody claw marks along the trees. Too late, Sam realizes it was TOO EASY.  Roy’s body drops from the canopy and the group splinters as they flee. Dean and Haley get nabbed, leaving Sam and Ben to find their missing siblings. Ben finally gets some lines, alerting Sam to Dean’s breadcrumb trail of peanut M&Ms.

They head into a defunct mine. (Speak friend and enter?) Growls echo through the darkened tunnels, but Sam and Ben discover the body storage by accident when they fall through floor boards into a lower level. They discover Haley and Dean trussed up and free them. Tommy’s there too! And still alive! 

Dean finds some flare guns and they make their way out of the tunnels. Dean tries to lure the wendigo away from the siblings and Sam. All his attempts are for naught, because the wendigo tries to attack Sam, and the three siblings. It’s okay, though! Dean fires a flare gun right into its gut and it burns into embers.

Later at the ranger’s station, they spin tales to the cops about a grizzly. 

Haley thanks Dean with a gentle kiss, and Dean watches the siblings leave with a fond and wistful expression. JENSEN ACKLES YOUR FACE IS A MENACE!

The Winchesters hit the road, Sam behind the wheel of the Impala. Time to hunt some evil sons of bitches and play some classic rock!

Oh sweetheart, I don’t do quotes:

Recycle, man

Nobody likes a skeptic

I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business

Man, I hate camping

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Dobbear! SYAC: The Master Review 6

I am so going to ruin someone’s childhood with that now, but...

guys, it had to be done!

Dashing and daring…

Courageous and caring!

Faithful and friendly…

 With stories to share!

 Doesn’t at all apply to this one artist…

Lesbian obsessed and  each nerddom’s nightmare!

Dobby BEAR!

Whinning here and there and everywhere!

Making claims that are beyond compare…

This is our Dobby-Bear!

Yeah, if you can’t guess, around now is the time I am going to put down the kids gloves and will really dig into why SYAC is garbage. And a huge factor into this, is in part Dobson’s self insert past 2012.

The existence of the blue bear as Dobson officially calls it (or Dobbear as most people call it) is in my opinion rather baffling already in terms of design choices.

I get e.g. that Dobson wanted to distance himself of his past humanoid self inserts as much as possible. But why of all things a bear?

The fact I am focused on that may sound weird, but hear me out for a bit. For starters, I know that Dobson likes western animation. And seeing how western animation has for the longest time been dominated by anthropomorphic animals, I can understand why he would redesign himself as a funny cartoon animal.

But there are at least three things that feel weird about it. First, Dobson had made it clear in the past that he hates furries. So him actually redesigning himself as an anthropomorphic animal is kinda weird

In fact, Dobson himself acknowledges that realization in one of his strips shortly after his fursona took over.

Second, of all the animals to choose from, why a bear? This question is in so far valid, as that bears are not necessarily one of the first to go animals, furries or western animators tend to go for when designing an anthro. And before any furries or anthro enthusiasts are calling me a hater, let me make one thing clear: I like anthropomorphic cartoon and comic characters too, and am okay with most furries. As long as you don’t have a diaper fetish, are a pedophile  or hurt actual animals, you can do and enjoy whatever you like.

But I am also aware enough of furry culture to know, that bear based anthros are most of the time hyper sexualized and muscular, connecting them to how the term “bear” is used in real life gay culture. Which is okay, I think it is just a funny coincidence that Dobson choose an animal, that most furries associate with a life style that Dobson is deeply afraid of, even if he claims to be an LGBT ally.

And as stated earlier, bears are not necessarily the go to animals for animators.

Don’t get me wrong, we all know some cartoon bears like Winnie the Pooh, Yogi Bear, Poh and the main cast of TaleSpin (btw, Kit Cloudkicker fan for life). But lets be honest here; ducks, mice, rabbits, canines, felines, equines and any other “easily to domesticate” animal in the real world tends to make better for easily recognizable cartoon characters than something that can reach a size of 3 meters tops and weigh over 500 pounds.

Truth be told, the pool of cartoon bears is so small, these are the first two things that came to my mind when thinking what may have inspired the Dobbear

And wouldn’t you know? According to Dobson, the Carebears were supposedly the main inspiration for his design.

 Unfortunately, this is also more or less the most I could find of Dobson addressing what went into the creation of the character.

Which kinda brings me also to the third issue as why I think the bear redesign is weird; It is too sudden.

One day Dobson draws himself as a shaved 20 something, the next day he is a fedora wearing Carebear clone, likely created and then rejected by Care Bear villain No Heart, as part of a plot to create a mole when conquering Care-A-Lot.

… and now I need to reevaluate my choices in life, that I was able to make such an elaborate Carebear joke.

It is just a change of design that in my opinion should have been addressed either outside of the comic or in context of it. Which it kinda is, but isn’t.

See, this is the first strip with the blue bear

And then only 13 strips or so later in something called “Continuity” is Dobson more or less willing to address the change…

And he does so in a passive aggressive manner, with Persistent Pam as a stand in for those asking him what is going on, while Dobson just dismissively continues working.

On one hand, you can argue that this is just the joke. The change happened, don’t bother with it, just enjoy what is still to come. And you know, I don’t want to make a rope out of everything Dobson ever posted, including that comic.

But then you have also to account for the fact, that Dobson would eventually associate himself with the blue bear so much, he made him his avatar and icon for his comics and online accounts. In fact, that one comic I posted WAY BACK in the first Master post of Dobson reminiscing how he started SYAC?

For reasons that are a bit confusing to me, he redrew himself (badly I have to add) as the blue bear in one of his earliest strips ever. The one where he belittles the manga fangirl for drawing manga. So I have to ask, what is going on here? Has Dobson increasingly decided to reset his past? Does he want to destroy any traces of his “human” self in his work to create the illusion to any new readers, that he never was as controversial of a person as he was and that there never was a need for him to reimagine and reinvent himself? Is this 1984? And how many of you realize that this paragraph is just me going conspiracy nuts for the sake of entertainment?

But still, it is kinda weird that he went to the bother of redrawing his human self in that one background sketch as a bear. Plus, I honestly think Dobson never even attempting to “explain” the change in the pages of his comics is a wasted opportunity for some decent jokes. Like every time Dobson tries to explain why he is a bear now, something interrupts him or we only get fragments of a story that if we put them together would be as ridiculous as the entirety of “Trapped in the Closet”.

I mean, the dumbest joke idea I have in mind is that Dobson went to build a bear to get a present for a family member. Instead he was build into a bear and later on successfully sued the company, which explains why he can afford to live despite not really working on comics anymore but lecture people badly about the evils of nerd culture.

So yeah, three major things about the design choice that more or less confuse me.

But here is the thing: Confusion is nothing compared to feeling genuine disdain for the design at hand. And compared to Dobson’s earlier human designs, Dobbear is just utterly unlikable.

A lot of that boils down to the following three facts:

1. From a certain point in time on (which I will cover in more detail later on) Dobson uses his bearsona primarily as a soapboxing mouth piece to talk about “politics” in nerd culture. Or at least what Dobson perceives as politics, coming off like a condescending jackass who believes among other things that white people are inherently incapable to identify with black people…

 … or that comic book shops have radicalized nerd culture, essentially calling them terror cells.

Which btw are so inherently offensive to me, I promise I will cover these two separately. One even sooner than the other.

2. If Dobbear is not talking about politics, he will tend to be a smug asshole to other people (most of the time strawmen) or their interests in one way or another. Being e.g. used by Dobson to express his disdain for criticism…

 or to mock legit criticism he had gotten by exaggerating things.

 All while also tending to make his critics look like inherent assholes.

These two facts, combined with Dobson’s average erratic behavior online on platforms such as dA, twitter and tumblr over the years, pretty much assured such a close association between the two, that a separation between artist and creation was not possible anymore, condemning them.

And for the record; Dobson was always a bit of a whinner who liked to act as if he was a better nerd than the average comic book fan. Otherwise, we would have not e.g. gotten Danny and Spot out of it.

But as the years went by in the last decade, Dobson turned from someone in his mid 20s, desperate to be seen as a “quirky” and likable internet persona (like certain internet reviewers), into a virtue signaling, lesbian obsessed asshole who likely regrets his life choices.

… Like certain internet reviewers.

But seriously, Dobson turned into someone who would flip the lid at something as ridiculous as Cheeto flavored chicken fries…

 While also being just the worst type of condescending nerd….

All while losing his mind about politics. Especially after Donald Trump became president

And just as Dobson became a radicalized left winged jackass who saw politics in everything he consumed, so did by default Dobbear, because Dobbear was not a character with his own personality, but a mouth piece.

Something I am about to get into detail in the near future. But till then, I want to cover in the next post the following third and final fact about Dobbear that really makes him unlikable to me: The fact he can’t be happy.

[wormstacheangel]

Since your last post implied it I would love to know about your AU recommendations ❤ I am obsessed too!! Thanks in advance 🙏🏻

hello! I hope you don’t mind if I just make a basic list of some of the AU stories I have read or want to read. Not in any order I just went through my bookmarks on AO3 :) Also I need to read more...Under the cut because it got too long! 

Angel's Wild (not gonna lie this is my favorite fic. I have read this almost a dozen times now)

Summary: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. 

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? 

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Checked Out

Summary:  Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

A Ghost Story

Summary:  Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Patient Love

Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. How do you deal with losing half of yourself when your whole life always revolved around the two of you, like yin and yang and black and white? How do you deal with a broken soul and old demons looming over you with no one to hold you back anymore?

After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator and more than a dozen deployments in both Afghanistan and Iraq, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. When he learns about his friend Jimmy’s death, Dean makes his way back to Kansas with his heart in his throat and broken pieces at his feet.

Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Unbroken

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

While You Were Sleeping

Summary:  A Destiel version of While You Were Sleeping! Castiel is alone and floundering. He has a crush on one of the passengers who passes through his subway station every morning. When the man gets pushed onto the tracks, Cas saves him. But when they get to the hospital there's a mix up and Cas finds himself engaged to a complete stranger. Enter, the rest of the family, including big brother Dean. How will Cas navigate the relationship with his supposed future in-laws? What will he do when Sam finally wakes up? And why can't he stop thinking about Dean?

Purgatory, director's cut

Summary: this doesn’t have a summary but it is dean and cas in purgatory and it’s soooo cool! I promise it’s amazing and worth the read!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise

Summary: Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process.

But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

What Greater Gift

Summary: Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.

From a prompt found on Tumblr. Saw this and I couldn't resist a Destiel AU, and I've been wanting to write Witch!Cas for ages.

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Summary: Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

They end up going through a lot more than a case, unfolding feelings left untold for so long, discovering parts of each other they never intended to uncover.

But will the feelings raging inside them be enough to bring their walls down?

A Fish Out of Water

Summary: To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes.

It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things.

But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

Summary: Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

Just as lost as I

Summary: Dean's been in love with Castiel for centuries. He keeps it buried, never letting himself get too close, but when Castiel goes missing he doesn't hesitate. He's going to find him if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Love Bites

Summary: Cas Novak graduated with a 4.0 in Mathematics, but not even Naomi Novak’s money could help him at job interviews. Anxious and dissatisfied with life, at nearly thirty he’s still washing dishes in the back of his best friend Hannah’s café.Until one night when his cat drags an injured bat into his apartment.

Dean may be a vampire, but he’s not an asshole (well, not much.) He feels like he owes the awkward guy for rescuing him from the cat’s clutches, so he sets about changing Cas's life.

A silly story about families who aren’t quite what they seem, fake boyfriends, and falling in love with someone who’s never, technically, met you.

The Bad Cop, Worse Cop Adventures of Freckles and Feathers

Summary: Miami. A place with beaches, babes, palm trees, and a growing drug-fueled crime organization. To help combat the drugs littering the streets, Captain Singer puts together a Tactical Narcotics Team composed of Miami's two finest and fearless officers. Charming casanova Dean Winchester has fought tooth and nail, rising through the ranks for this position. Trench coat toting Castiel Novak knows more hand-to-hand combative techniques than he does people skills. Between Dean's big mouth and Castiel's take-no-shit attitude, their introductory meeting ends on a less than stellar note and a couple of hard to shake nicknames.

After six months of partnership, the nicknames have stuck and so has the sexual tension. When a murder in the middle of the night launches their biggest lead on a cleverly evasive drug lord, Dean is shocked to find Sam at the center of it. Sam comes clean with his involvement and Charlie, their witness, seeks revenge against the man responsible for killing her friend. As the stakes rise higher so do Dean’s feelings putting everything in jeopardy. Is a cop with everything to prove, a cop with everything to lose, one computer hacker witness, and a damn good ADA enough to save the day?

The Care and Feeding of Castiel

Summary: Dean’s quiet time in the bunker is interrupted by some stranger-than-usual behavior from his angel. Oh, and feathers...there are a lot of those, too.

First Gentleman Wanted

Summary:  President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

The Graveyard Shift

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

The Path of Fireflies

Summary: After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Summary: Heaven is white.Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.-Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Doing this made me realize I need to read more longer fics. I usually just read the short ficlets on tumblr but I need to broaden my horizon and read more. But yes! These are the AU’s currently in my bookmarks. Hope you find one to enjoy :)

[kchuarts]

Loki gets what Loki wants.

A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) oh yeah. It's all coming together. Just a drabble..

Summary: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I'm thirsty, you're thirsty, and Loki is PARCHED.

Warnings: 🔞 SMUT SMUT SMUT 🔞 *this gif is pure sin*

'Finally, some time to relax...' Astrid thought to herself as she basked in the hot water of her shower. Not too long ago, she had moved back to the Avengers base per Tony's request, Thor's suggestion and as much as he didn't want to admit... Loki's demand. 

“If I am to be watched like a child, then I require your daughter to be here.” A smirk snaked it’s way across Loki’s as he locked eyes with Tony. 

Pursing his lips and glaring at the mischievous dark haired god, the Billionaire took a sip of his scotch. “No.” 

“No?” Loki took a step toward Tony, the smirk still plastered on his pale face. “Then I shall not comply and you will be the first to-” A strong hand grabbed Loki’s shoulder and pulled him back away from Tony.  

“Brother cease your antics. Your threats are meaningless and only lessen your favor with Stark.” Thor squeezed Loki’s shoulder as a warning. 

Tony raised his scotch, scoffing at the two gods “You can say that again Point Break.” Now he received a look from Thor. “Oh come on! You’re still upset about that nickname? Listen, it is a HELL of a lot better than all the NC-17 names I have for Professor Snape over here.” He hid his smirk behind his glass as Loki looked at Thor then back at Tony with confusion, shaking his head. 

“I understood that reference!!” Steve shouted victoriously from the common room. 

“So super hearing is also a thing. Interesting,” Tony muttered to himself before turning his attention back to the princes. “Stark, just... Just give Loki the one thing he wants-” 

“And that thing is my daughter?” Tony cut him off in disgust. 

He had all right to be protective even if she wasn’t truly his blood. Thor let out an incredibly loud sigh while still gripping Loki from trying to slither away. “Lady Astrid has an effect on my brother. Their time spent on Sakaar greatly impacted his decision to come back to Midgard even after near death.” Loki winced at the mention of near death and cleared his throat as an indication that he would rather not talk about that. “You saw how she-” Thor began again but was once again cut off by Tony. “Fine. Greaseball gets ONE and I mean ONE chance only. He fucks up, it’s all on you bub. I’m watching you with eyes wide open.” He motions at Loki. 

The raven haired man sighed almost as loud as Thor “So does Astrid’s mangey feline but with one eye. The mouth on that cat is incredible.” 

“Wait- What? Never mind. That makes two of us.” Tony dismissed the gods to help Loki settle in. 

That was from what Thor had recollected from earlier events and then relayed the information to Astrid. She shook her head and chuckled at the fact Tony called Loki Professor Snape. The woman continued to run her hands over her body, rinsing the soap off and not even hearing the door open. 

Steam hit Loki in the face as he entered the lavish bathroom. He had to admit to himself that Stark at least had style as he noticed a large jacuzzi tub in the corner, the back wall an entire walk in shower with a very expensive partition that planted in the ground and relied on the shower water. The tiling of the bathroom was black with a mix of natural wood for the walls while the double sink counter was a white and gold mixed marble. However, Loki was not here to admire the bathroom interior but rather the person occupying it. Smirking, he took his approach without forgoing clothes... His thirst needed to be quenched badly, his addiction to the sweetest nectar to touch his tongue was insatiable.

“I should probably get out soon before I prune or Kovu drives dad nuts.” Astrid muttered to herself, whining a little as the shower just felt so good. This was heaven compared to the shower she had back in her apartment and the only thing that would make this shower even better was- 

“H-Hey!!” Astrid cried out as she felt long arms wrap around her from behind and soft lips on her shoulder. 

A familiar dark chuckle rumbled through the intruder that sent heat pooling down between the brunettes legs. “My dear you look absolutely delicious.” Loki softly growled against her bare skin, pushing her hair from the back of her neck and gently nipping at her pale flesh. “Warn a girl next time will you?” Astrid looked over her shoulder then scrunching her brow in confusion. “Loki you’re still wearing clothes... You gonna take em off orr?” She was met only with a dirty smirk and her back suddenly up against the wood wall. “Do not fret over that right now. It matters not.” Loki’s pupils were completely blown as he looked down at the mortal girl. Astrid’s heart raced from the look in his eyes and could feel her folds getting slick at the possible scenarios that may play out. Her smaller hands travelled up his broad chest, his black button down shirt now soaked completely with the rest of his form. They snaked around his neck and her fingers tangled in his long dark locks as he leaned forward to capture her lips. Loki’s restless hands roamed across the woman’s body as the sounds of their kissing followed by soft moans echoed in the room. One of his curious hands slid down her front, over her chest, down her belly, past her hips and eventually cupping her sex; one long slender finger dipping into her. Astrid inhaled sharply through her nose, opening her mouth to let his tongue in. The god hummed in satisfaction at how wet she was for him. His good girl, always ready for him and willing. His beautiful pet. He was intoxicated by her entire existence and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He removed his finger from her weeping hole, stopping their sloppy kiss and sitting on the floor before her. “I had almost forgot why I came here in the first place- I am not only parched but positively famished.” His large hands grasped Astrid’s thighs, fingers digging into her flesh. He gazed up at her with hungry eyes, smirking “Will you help me, pet? Quench my thirst and sate my appetite?” He glanced down at her glistening petals, licking his lips before looking back up at the girl. Loki leaned forward, licking the insides of her thighs while he waited for her answer. While Loki loved it when Astrid used her pretty little mouth on him, he preferred his head to be trapped between her legs while he drank from her honey. There was something addicting about her taste that drove the god insane and made him crave to go on for hours. 

Astrid began to shake slightly from anticipation, her naked body sliding down a bit to give the raven haired prince better access to what he desired most. “Y-Yes my prince.” she raised her hand up, biting her index finger as she felt his breath ghost over her mound. The brunette felt him chuckle as he kissed her hip bones, dragging his face downward but his eyes never leaving hers. “Tell me, pet... What are you going to help me with? Use your words, sweet girl. I want to hear you say it.” He grinned at her sudden cry as he flicked his wrist and smacked her ass. Another second went by and with that came another smack to her ass. Then another and another and another until Astrid’s arse was red with handprints. “It is almost as if you want me to keep up with making your behind sore. I am okay with that too but I would rather not starve pet... Do not keep me waiting, I hunger for you.” He teased her slit by barely touching it with the tip of his tongue. “I-I’m offering my pussy to y-you my prince. Please eat my pretty pink- Oh fuck!!” Her eyes flew open as she felt his tongue lick a fat stripe up her folds. Loki practically came on sight in his trousers from the sheer taste of her cunt alone. His cock was painfully hard, but he would wait for that as right now he was focused on the meal in front of him. The god placed his mouth over her mound, dragging his tongue along her hot, wet folds. 

The taste on his tongue made Loki push his face further into her pussy, and letting out a moan once he pushed his tongue into her. “Mmm!!” Astrid’s fingers latched onto his hair, tugging it every so often as his molten tongue fucked her. Her chest rose at a moderate pace, droplets of water running down on her shoulders and breasts. She cried out loudly as Loki gave a sharp suck to her clit, and her walls clenching around his fingers when they slipped in. “You like this.” He growled, looking up at her. “You like it when I slip my tongue up into your cunt and fuck you with it. When my lips suck at your pearl and fingers-” He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit the spongy spot within her. The prince watched in awe as Astrid’s body shook and her breaths became more high pitched and whiny. “So beautiful... Look at you, putty at my very touch.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her mound, turning his attention to his fingers twisting in and out of her folds. His mouth then ascended back onto her pussy, licking at her swollen nub and sucking it gently while his fingers railed into her. The gods name fell from the woman’s lips in an almost prayer like way, her fingers tightening their grip. There was a sudden cramping in the brunettes back but a delightful building pressure in her belly. “L-Loki please I need to cum, please-” she whined, gaining his attention, “I can’t stand like this m-much longer!!” Astrid squeaked as she felt his tongue go back inside of her cunt. She hated when he would ignore her plea of letting her change positions. “Just a little longer, pet. I know you can hold out for me. Cum with my tongue inside of your pussy.” Loki panted a bit before resuming to aggressively tongue fuck the girl. It did not take very long for Astrid to reach her peak as the gods ministrations became too much to bear. “Fuck!!” she gasped, her legs buckling as her orgasm ripped through her body and Loki guiding her down to the black tile gently as he helped her ride out her orgasm before pulling his muscle out from her. The prince dragged his tongue up her body, latching onto one of her nipples and sucking before releasing it with a pop; doing the same to the other before looking up at her with an intense gaze. 

“We are not done.” Loki growled darkly, snapping his fingers and making his clothes vanish. He had enough of wet clothes for today and wanted to feel Astrid’s skin on his. Her teal eyes widened at how red and angry his large cock appeared. The prince stood up, grabbing Astrid’s long wet hair and pushing her face at his groin. “Suck.” He ordered and grinned as he felt the woman’s sweet mouth encase his member. Loki moaned softly at the feeling of her tongue gliding along his length, it had been a bit since she had given him head. The god took her hair in his hands, staring down at her while praising the girl as her head bobbed. “Good girl.. Just like that..” He hissed at the sudden urgency to cum now. Yes he technically would be finishing inside with her mouth on his cock, but it never quite compared to feeling her walls milk him and hearing her scream his name. “S-Stop.” He pulled Astrid off of his raging hard on before transporting their soaked bodies into his own room. As soon as Astrid’s back hit the bed, his lips were on her own in a desperate feverish kiss. The taste of her and now himself on his tongue made Loki groan loudly, knocking the woman’s legs apart. “I want to cum inside of your sweet pussy. Feel you squeeze the life out of me with that tight cunt.” He broke the kiss apart, biting into her neck and shoving his cock inside of her without warning. 

Astrid’s head flew back against the mattress as she screamed out in surprise and pleasure. He was so big inside of her, so deliciously big. Loki took advantage of her exposed neck, biting at her flesh and marking her up. “Mine” He began to snap his hips into her, fingers digging into her hips as he practically jackhammered into her. Astrid’s nails dug into his pale muscular back and she held on for dear life as Loki literally fucked her into the bed. “LOKI!! LOKI!! O-OH MY GOD!!” Her nails dragged down his back, drawing some blood from his rough fucking. Suddenly, Astrid was on top, straddling him and bouncing herself on his cock. “Ride my cock. Just like that.” His hands reached up, grabbing handfuls of her generous sized tits. They fit in his hands almost too perfectly. He absolutely loved her breasts and how soft they were. He let go, wanting to see something before he reached climax. “Touch yourself while you bounce on my cock.” He grabbed one of her hands, pushing it toward her clit. Astrid obeyed, leaning back a bit to give Loki a better view as she began to play with her clit, “C-Cum, I need to-” She looked down at him through hooded eyes, yelping as she felt him snap his hips up and hit her cervix. “No.” He noticed that the girl was beginning to grow tired and decided to have her underneath him again. He would watch her touch herself another day when she wasn’t so tired from his brutal fucking. 

“Wrap your legs around me.” He muttered against her lips, his eyes locked with hers. “Look at me while I fuck you, pet. Do not look away or you will not come.” He nipped at her bottom lip, noting the desperation in her large deep sea orbs. Astrid’s shaky legs were wrapped tightly around the gods waist, his cock reaching deeper inside of her. “Loki- H-Hold me.” She whimpered, not breaking her gaze and noticing tenderness in his eyes, making his hips falter a bit. “Does my pet want her king to hold her while she cums?” He grinned, picking the pace back up and feeling his end nearing. Astrid whimpered in response, nodding her head “Y-Yes my king!! Please! Let me cum!! Please my king!! Loki please!!” She cried against his lips. Going as hard as he physically could without hurting her, Loki grit his teeth as he felt her walls squeeze him. “Cum for your king.” He growled, watching her come undone. Astrid’s hands held onto his shoulders so she could continue to look into his blue green eyes while she came. The concentrated look Loki once held fell into one of pleasure as his hips stuttered, his hot seed releasing in thick ropes inside of her womb. The god pressed his forehead against Astrid’s, lazily thrusting his hips to make sure she got every last drop of his cum. The brunette weakly pulled Loki down to meet her in a gentle kiss. He would never admit but this was one of Loki’s absolute favorite things after all was said and done. His mind was clouded by the taste of her tongue, making him feel almost as drunk as when he tastes her cunt. Carefully, he pulled out of her and examined his work, chest rising from panting. “Are you alright, little songbird?” He flashed a smile, pushing some hair from the frame of Astrid’s face. “I did not hurt you? Oh.. That is a first.” he chortled at the woman’s shaking legs. “I guess you just fucked me so good.” she giggled softly at his fascination with her quivering limbs. “Like I don’t anytime? Come now, pet. You wound me.” Loki pretended to look sad before getting up and grabbing a damp washrag from his own bathroom. As he began to wipe Astrid down, the two of them turned their attention to a sudden thud in the doorway. 

“HOW!? HOW IS IT ALWAYS YOU, STARK!?” Loki threw his comforter over Astrid as she practically screamed in horror. Tony pointed to the door “Dumb ass. You left the door open and now everyone is going to have nightmares of what you and my DAUGHTER.” He pointed angrily at Loki, “Just fucking did!! Literally fucking!! This is disgusting!! I should have never agreed to let you stay!! My day has been officially ruined!! JARVIS play Claire de Lune please. I need to go drink a fifth and try to erase what I’ve just seen.” Tony woefully moaned, dragging his feet away from the mortifying scene. Of course, an entourage appeared with Thor whistling and clapping, Steve’s ears redder than a tomato, Bucky also clapping and thoroughly impressed, Natasha also embarrassed, Vision trying to erase his database, Wanda screeching in confusion and happiness for Astrid, and a dark fluffy mass running at full speed toward Loki. 

So what did y’all think o’ dat one!? Lemme know 

taglist: @lucywrites02​

[katsukis-sad-angel]

FatSquadCanons; During and right after the Chisaki arc

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x Reader, Eijirou Kirishima x Reader, & Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Summary: The Fat Gum squad and their girlfriends/wives/fiancees during and right after the Chisaki Arc in My Hero academia

Warnings: Sex talk, slight angst, mentions of intercourse, cock-warming, swearing, cuteness

Author’s Note: That gif below brought back the sun, cured my depression, got rid of my anxiety, cured the coronavirus, and made Jesus rise from the cross and beat the shit out of Pontious Pilate

Enjoy!

Taishiro Toyomitsu

Mostly SFW

Misses you

A LOT

You’re so pretty and happy and you give the best hugs and have the sweetest voice so being deprived of those things for so long…

But he had to focus

They had to save Eri, so he couldn’t have your elegant features staining the cloth of his mind right now

You, on the other hand, try and cope with your worry, lust, and sadness by rolling up in his spare hero hoodies and his big black shirts because they’re warm and they smell just like him

You miss the way he held you in his arms as though you were made of porcelain, the way he kissed your lips like it was the last time, his big, warm, soft stomach you could sink into, the twisty blonde hair you loved combing your fingers through, his big smile, his huge hands, his hugs, his lips, his dick, and his laugh

That chuckle...

It would be the death of you

You just wanted to be back in his arms… or in his lap…

Or under him while he fucked your brains out

Pick one

He hasn’t been home in 2 whole week

So your touch starved as fuck, hungry for dick, lonely, sad, and worried

You’ve been eating dinner alone and the news has been on nonstop

So when he comes home with bandages all over his scraggly, skinny yet buff body, you immediately start bawling your eyes out

You’re so happy he’s safe and alive

He holds out one of his arms to you and you stumble from your chair and collapse into his arms

“Tai! Oh, my god!”

He picks you up and carries you to the couch like the goddess you are and lays down with you, kissing your cheeks, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he missed you until your stormy sobs have calmed to the occasional violent hiccup

“Honey bear, it’s ok. I’m here now. Don’t cry sweetheart…”

I want him to call me ‘honey bear’

The two of you lay there for the rest of the day

You get up occasionally to get your man food and to take a piss, but that’s about it

Refuses to let go of your waist even though his stomach sounds like a possessed garbage disposal

“Don’t worry about me Y/n, I’m fine. Just stay here, ok?”

You rest your head on his chest to listen to the beat of his heart

Nice pecs pillow

Forehead kisses, ear nibbles, ass and thigh grabs, hand kisses, etc

He’s all over you

He thinks you such a beautiful goddamn queen through the bright red tearstains and the evidence of emotional eating that had gathered on your hips

He tells you that, just the part about your cute and squishy hips

You end up falling asleep like that under a pile of blankets

NSFW

The very next day, as soon as you’re up, you start riding him like a horse

“That’s it babygirl, be a nice little cowgirl for me. Just like that~”

“Did you miss my cock while I was gone?” He’ll whisper in your ear, sucking on one of your piercings

“Yes, fuck yes I did Tai!”

Holds your bouncing hips with the one hand that works, kisses you, sucks tiddy, and makes sure you get off at least twice before he does

When he’s done, you collapse on his chest, panting

For a couple of hours, you lay there cock warming him because he asked you to

Then his stomach started up again and you got off and fed him everything in the house while naked because he asked you too

The end

Because you asked me too

Tamaki Amajiki

SFW

…

Poor sweet elf boi

Doesn’t really know how to cope

Spends a lot of time locked in his room

You notice he’s eating less

When he allows you to come into his room, he’s always wearing one of the hoodies you let him have

On those nights, there isn’t a lot of talking, but there is a lot of cuddling

He rests his head either on your chest or your stomach, wraps his muscley arms around your waist and holds you close

Whispers ‘I love you y/n.’ every so often

You’re really worried about him

His pretty black eyes are dull, he slouches more, Mirio can’t cheer him up, you can’t cheer him up, his indigo floof droops a little, dark bags under his eyes, stutters a lot more → talks even less than before, he looks sad, and is jumpy

He’s been really distant too

Staring off into the distance, completely zoned out and lost in his thoughts

24/7

So one day when he comes back from patrol with that spunky redhead and Fatgum, you go to his room and knock

No answer

You knock again

Still no answer

You fumble with the doorknob, but it’s locked

Using your quirk, you manage to get it open

“Tama, why is your-”

“Tamaki?”

Tamaki Amajiki was rolled up in several blankets, making him look like an adorable burrito

He was struggling to escape his warm cocoon, squeaking softly as he attempted to get his arms out

He blushed as soon as you saw him and then tried to hide his face in embarrassment, but you didn’t let him sink too far

You smiled indulgently and helped him unroll

“Tamaki, if you were cold then- Wait… are those my socks?”

“Yes.” He mumbled, hiding his face in your shoulder

You giggled

“Don’t be embarrassed Tama! If you want my clothes, just ask!”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him down so you’re laying comfortably in his bed together

“How are you doing?” You coo, stroking his soft indigo locks

“Awful.” He mumbled, burying his face in your chest

“I’m sorry to hear that…” You reply, tracing the indent on the back of his neck, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. But I’m not allowed.”

“Oh. That’s ok. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but just try not to think about it. I know it’s hard and you’re under a lot of pressure, but tonight, just think about me. Or takoyaki. Or Nejire and Mirio.”

“You smell good.” He whispered bashfully, “New perfume?”

“Mm-hm! You like it?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

You smiled sweetly, letting his soft voice (I love you Aaron Dismuke) play its melody over and over again in your brain

You were so lucky

You kissed his forehead and whispered, “If you need someone to talk to, I’m right here Tamaki. Ok?”

He nodded sleepily, eyelids drooping from lack of sleep

“I love you bunny.”

“Sweet dreams.” You sigh, relaxing in his safe embrace

NSFW

Don’t get me wrong, Tamaki is one of the sweetest, kindest, most adorable yet hot guys EVER, but he isn’t some fucking pushover

He’s domming your sorry ass in bed, whether you like it or not

He’s got tentacles

TENTACLES

GOOD HENTAI ANIME = TENTACLES

And he fucking knows how to use them to make you scream

He also has a cow hoof you can stretch yourself on

What happens if he eats noodles?

But that’s beside the point

Tentacles

With those, he can tease you, tie you up, make you cum, squirt, serve as a second dick for ur arse, put them in your mouth, etc etc etc

Anything you can imagine

Picture this: Tamaki is fucking your from behind, buried to the hilt in your cunt. Two tentacles trapping your arms against your back, one in your ass, one in your mouth, and one massaging your throbbing clit

You’re overstimulated, moaning, and crying from the pleasure, pain, and overwhelming arousal

“Do you like my tentacles Bunny? Does it feel good?”

“So wet for me… such a pretty Bunny when I fuck you like this.”

“More? Greedy bunnies get punished~”

Loves it when you’re all needy, hot, and bothered underneath him, begging for just a simple touch

It makes him feel really strong and happy

Knows it feels good because you make the most erotic faces

Nuts almost immediately when you do → tongue lolling out, eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream, and cheeks flushed

Aftercare? 

You won’t even remember the accidental scratch you got from the lobster claw

Sore pussy and/or ass?

Hickeys?

Dry throat?

Hungry?

Anything marring the beautiful expanse of skin before him?

Gone

He’ll massage you, give you a bath, food, water, endless kisses, hums to you softly, bandage you up (if need be) and tuck you in

He NEVER wants to lose you to someone else, so he makes ABSOLUTELY sure, you’re 100% feeling loved at the end

He loves you so much

Never forget that

Eijirou Kirishima

Mostly SFW

Baby boy…

He has been very distant since this whole thing started

No more study and cuddle sessions (where you normally end up fucking)

Fewer hugs and kisses

No big girl fun time in bed

Not as many baby shark doot doo doo doo doo smiles

*author drowns in utter despair*

All you have are the clothes you steal from his closet every now and then

(every time you’re in his room) cough

So while boi is being a distant and depressing fuck, you bundle up in all 11 of his Crimson Riot hoodies (some of them are used as pants) and think about him

His garnet irises, his adorable sharp-toothed smile, his killer upper body, his soft red hair, his voice (thank you Justin Cook), his hands, his dick, his manliness, the tiny scar above his eyebrow, and his sharp jawline

Perfection

Kiri, on the other hand, wonders why you’re spending so much time in your room all alone and why fuck cuddle nights stopped

Right when he needed all of the love and support, it stopped

Were you mad at him?

Did he do something to upset or offend you?

Did he say something rude or insensitive without thinking about it?

Did you get tired of him?

Did you want to break up?

Had Bakugou finally stolen your heart from him?

He couldn’t tell

You looked to upset all the time, giving him distant looks, suddenly running to your room with your eyes full of… shit, were those tears?

No, not eyes full of shit

Eyes full of tears

Come on guys

He ran after you, but by the time he got to your hallway, you were already locked in your room

He knocked on the door

“Who… Who is it?” You whimpered in a choked voice

“Uh, Eiji… your boyfriend…” He said softly, running a hand through his softened locks, “Can I come in?”

“I…” You pause, “I guess. Gimme a minute.”

Shuffling sounds

*nose-blowing*

Then the door opened to reveal a slouching you in one of his hoodies

You had a used tissue scrunched in your fist

“Babe, are you ok? You’ve been acting really weird lately and I’m worried!” Said the pure ginger shark

“E-Ever s-since you s-started that work-study, you’ve been r-really d-distant so I thought you might’ve f-found someone else. Either that or you j-just needed t-time alone.” You whimpered, holding back tears for what seemed like the billionth time that day

“Baby girl, no one could ever replace you!”

Sharky pulls you into a hug

“I’m sorry you thought that Y/n. I’ve just been really zoned out because I’m trying to balance school, work-study, and our relationship all at once. I really need those study nights honey, I’m begging you. You explain stuff so simply and your notes are really descriptive. I love you so much and I don’t like it when you’re sad, because then I’m sad and then everyone is sad.”

“Eiji… I’m sorry, don’t blame all this on your self. I’m just being a whiny bitch.”

“Don’t say that!!”

“But I-”

You were cut off by a kiss

Eijirou cupped your flushed cheek tenderly with one hand, and with the other, he held the small of your back so you were flush up against him

“Eijirou…”

That night, you fall asleep on his chest, but Kiri can’t sleep

His phone on your nightstand flashes and he carefully picks it up, turning down the brightness so as not to disturb you

Apparently, it’s time

Carefully, he slips out of bed to join Midoriya, Ochaco, and Tsuyu downstairs

NSFW

When all of that is over and Kirishima is in your arms safe and sound again, he gets down on you before you even pull out your flashcards

Presses you back into the carpet and starts sucking your face

“Eiji? Wha-”

“Sssh.”

Clothes start flying everywhere except away from you and your horny boyfriend, who has moved onto your neck and jawline, kissing and nipping along your collarbones and mandible

You thread your shaking fingers through his pretty red hair

“So wet for me already?” 

“Mmmh, you smell so good…” Eijirou moaned, sucking your puffy clit, his hands clamped on your hips to prevent you from bucking or squirming

“M-More… please, more! I need more Eiji~”

“Did you miss me, or just my cock?”

“Both- fuuuuck~ Eijirou oh my gOd~”

“You like that sweetie? Huh? Tell me how much you like it~”

…

*coughs*

You can hardly walk the next day

But don’t worry

Kiri will treat you like a queen and carry you around until you fall off or feel better

No studying happened unless you count Eiji learning to make you squirt

Otherwise, no

Neither of you did anything productive

But you did have a fun, sensual evening with the person you loved most

Nighteye Squad hc’s coming soon!

[nowornever13587]

MCYT Oxenfree Chapter 1

Edward’s Island.

Fundy POV

“It used to be a military base. Then it became a ranching thing, then it was turned into an army thing, then it became a bird thing and a museum or whatever. Henry Fonda stationed here, I think, for a bit. Unless he was Navy.” 

I listened to Tommy rattle on as I leaned on the rail of the ship. The salty smell of the ocean filled the overcast sky. But thankfully, it was only slightly cold. Just enough for a light jacket..

“Who’s Henry Fonda?” Eret asked, unaware that you should never ask Tommy questions when he’s explaining things. He had a tendency to not hear them.

“And around Christmas time, this little breakfast place used to sell these amazing polar bear sugar cookies…” Like normal, Tommy went on. I laughed to myself, peering back over the edge of the ferry for wildlife in the water.

“Hey,” Tommy poked me. “Are you still with us? You haven’t said anything for like… 10 minutes.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. My mind just drifted for a second.” I turned back, checking my watch. It was 8. Right on time.

“So, you all moved in?” Tommy continued to talk to Eret. 

“Um, not really. I just got in this morning.” Eret chuckled.

“And how did Fundy’s mom meet your dad again?” Tommy was eager for gossip. 

“They met on vacation in London. He got lost in a garden and thought she worked there.” Eret took it in good humor as we walked back in the boat. 

I took the liberty of exploring the small craft. It wasn’t that old but still had that air to it. Slightly chipped paint and worn seats. How they got worn, I never understood. Only bird watchers and history nuts ever headed to Edward’s island anymore. Particularly not in the winter.

“Hey, there’s an old ship's wheel up here.” I called down to the others from the second story as I bent to read the placard. “It’s a replica from a… Portuguese caravel, it says.”

“Yeah! I think the Portuguese discovered the island? I dunno. I mostly slept through the maritime portion of history class.” Tommy shrugged.

“Says the kid who’s been ranting about the island for the past 18 minutes.” Eret teased. Tommy shot him a teasing glare as I came back down.

“So you guys just met tonight?” Tommy continued.

“Yeah, I was… I’d been out at school and the timing had just never worked out.” Eret shrugged.

“And what does that make you to the Furry? Second cousin or something?”

“Step bro and I am not a furry!” I groaned

“Yeah, yeah! At least you seem cool!” Tommy laughed. “Cool guy, cool eyes. You get a cool new sibling living right in your house! Wearing your clothes… eating your food ... Sharing your toothbrush.”

“Ew!” We both grimaced. The conversation dipped awkwardly.

“So… how do you two know each other?” Eret prompted us.

“Oh, from way back when, like paleozoic. Grade school era.”

“I moved from the Netherlands in the first grade and Tommy was the one I got partnered with on the first day.” 

“Passengers,” Suddenly the robotical intercom kicked on, nearly scaring me out of my skin. “We’ll be arriving soon. Check under your seat-” 

“Check under your seat to make sure you don’t leave behind any grandchildren.” Tommy commented over the recording sarcastically. 

“And if you picked up a complimentary disposable radio, remember to tune to 102.3 at the various plaques…” It droned on.

“Ooh! We should get a picture!” Tommy suddenly stood, dragging Eret and I back to the bow of the ferry. 

“Fine. Just… hold the camera out. Like… far. I don’t look my freshest right now.” I told Tommy as he pulled out his phone. I ran a hand over my ears, trying to smooth down my fur that had puffed up due to the humidity.

“It’s true, Eret. This is like B Minus Fundy.” Tommy grinned.

“Take the picture you child!” I nudged him. 

“I am not a child!” Tommy retorted while holding out the camera. We all smiled as the audible click came from the phone.

“There! Great. I’ll magic erase all the warts out and stuff, so don’t worry.” Tommy checked over the photo.

Eret made a face at the mention of warts and rolled his eyes. 

“Hey, Furry. Did you remember to bring that radio? The little portable one?” Tommy piped back up.

“Yeah.” I sighed, ignoring the comment as I took the object out my pocket.

“Our high school has a radio station and Finn- he’s a friend of ours- he’s filling in because TapL went on vacation with his family or something.” Tommy explained as I began twisting the knob to find the station. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s gonna say something like… basically right now about our thing so…”

We all intently listened to the radio as I found the right station, 88.3.

“... Which I played because Karl wouldn’t stop singing it during math class!” Finn seemed to be talking about the song that was just on. “But… oh! Look at the time! Just after ten o’clock. Which means my dear friend Tommy and his bros are probably just touching down on Edwards island for the yearly bash on the beach…. Or whatever we call it now.”

“But anyways, I promised him that I’d play a song from his channel, so hope you're tuned in, Tommy! Here’s Able Sisters- Sable and Mable from Animal Crossing. He’s been tormenting me to play it for ages so here. Please stop.” 

The familiar song came on. I groaned quickly, shutting it off.

“Haha!” Tommy crowed. “I finally got him to do it!” 

His victory rant was cut off as the ferry’s horn blasted above us. 

“There’s no radio reception on the island.” Tommy continued. “I’m glad I got to hear it before it went totally kaput.”

“If we can’t use it, why’d you bring it? Not just for the boat?” Eret inquired.

“Um, no. You’ll see. Don’t expect too much but… nah. It’ll be fun. I won’t undercook it.” Tommy waved his hands mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

We all shut up as the boat began nearing the dock. The old man running the ship helped us get off, before pulling away again. 

“Oh boy! Smell that clean air, lads! This ain’t city livin’!” Tommy gestured to the now dark heavens. “My other friends should be up around the bend.”

“Actually,” Eret said nervously, waiting at the top of the dock stairs. “I mean, I don’t mean to be the guy to break us up already, but Tommy, could you do me a favor? Can I have two quick minutes with Fundy?”

“Uh… you sure?” Tommy hesitated. I glanced back up at Eret. The older boy seemed sincere.

“Something wrong?” I wondered.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute.” Eret glanced at the street light above.

“Alright, but- Look, I don’t wanna go up by myself. I mean, can’t we just stick together? You’re gonna have all night to say, like… whatever.” Tommy pleaded, using his puppy dog eyes. 

“But you were going to meet your friends, right?”

“Yeah but there further-”

“Tommy, it’s alright. Just wait for us at the end of the town, okay?  We’ll catch up with you there.” I reasoned. 

“Alright.” Tommy sighed, walking off. “Though this is a really strange way to start off, splitting up.”

“Thanks man!” Eret called after him, before turning to me. “He seems nice. Funny.”

“Yeah, he’s… what did you want to talk about? Before I suspect something nefarious.” I teased, coming back to the top of the stairs. 

“Listen, I just wanted to grab you ahead of time and say you’ve been…. Cool… about everything. And I guess it’s just - for me, I’ve never moved anywhere, ya know? And, like, getting a new family at the same time kinda feels like I’m skipping the training wheels.”

“Not that it’s bad! You and your mum have been great!”

“Eh, we’ll make do.” I nudged Eret playfully. “Lemons, lemonade, however that goes.”

“You idiot.” Eret and I laughed. 

“Oh, thanks for setting up the attic for me, by the way. It’s cool, how it’s a little bedroom.” 

“No problem…” I looked at the dark water. I really didn’t want to touch that subject. “It’s nice, at night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Not chilly.” Eret nodded. “We can- we can catch back up with Tommy now. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

We walked down the stairs into the parking lot. Commenting on the lonely car, I noticed a blocked off road. I decided to ignore it in favor of heading up the long staircase to the little shops that made the town of the island. 

“Oh, what’s that?” Eret pointed at the statue as we reached the top. A bird on a pedestal with a whale below it. 

“I forgot this was even here.” I chuckled. “It’s a monument to some submarine that was sunk off the coast.”

“Oh, wait. Can’t you do that radio guide thing like the boat said?” Eret looked excited. “I wanna see how it works.

“Sure.” I pulled the thing out of my pocket.

“It was…. 101 or 102, I think.”

I found the station. The voice of some tour guide came on. 

“Named after the Hawiian god of the sea, the USS Kanaloa was launched on January 15, 1941 and commissioned into service at the end of that year under the command of Lt. C. Dream...”

“Never heard of this before. Kinda creepy in a way, right?” Eret murmured. 

“On October 28, 1943, it was sunk by the Japanese sub chaser Tokisada some 25 miles off the coast of Washington…”

“Yeah, I hate thinking about it. It reminds me of those scenes in movies where sailors have to seal somebody up to drown or else the flooding will take the whole ship, you know?” I shivered at the idea.

“... and remains, to this day, the only submarine casualty in American waters. Eighty-five officers, as well as twelve Army passengers, were lost.”

“Yeah, no. I always thought submarine duty was, like, the worst possible war assignment. There’s no way out if something goes wrong.”

I turned off the radio as the recording began again. We continued through the town. All the stores were closed. Probably because it was starting to become winter and we took the last ferry here. 

“Hello kids. The other guys and gals must be further up, so be quick now.” Tommy’s voice suddenly called from the top of a ramp. We laughed, running up to him. 

“Okay, speed-read definition of Edwards Island. This is a tourist trap with shops and beach. Nobody lives here except some geriatric named Mr. Halo. But, cross my heart and hope to die, we’ll never mention him or any other old person’s name again.”

“We are here to drink and be stupid. A tradition apparently started by bored recruits in the nineteen fifties who would sneak dates over from the coastal towns. They literally called it ‘trawling’.”

“Wow, interesting.” I lightly mocked. Eret snorted behind me.

“Yeah, like kids at camp or something.” Tommy shrugged. “So, to summarize, we are not allowed here after dark. The town is shut down, and we - the L’manberg High Junior Class- have come to commit improper acts.”

We came to a fence just taller than me. I frowned, glancing at Tommy. 

“The beaten path officially ends here. The beach is past the fence a way. I think Nikki told me that there’s a way that they used to get over there, but… I can’t remember how. I mean, can’t be too difficult.” Tommy looked around.

“Dumpster?” Eret pointed to the relatively empty bin sitting by the edge of the path. 

“Perfect, we can push it over and close the lid.” I got beside him and helped. 

“And the other thing about this nowhere island,” Tommy stayed back to finish his story. “Is the weirdo caves.”

“The weirdo caves?” Eret echoed incredulously. 

“The whole reason Fundy brought the radio is because when you go to the- it’s like ‘front’--

“The mouth.” I supplied.

“The mouth of this particular cave, you can sometimes pick up frequencies to stations that don’t exist.” Tommy grinned. “You’ll hear voices or just... sounds… And they’re impossible to get anywhere else on the island. Crazy, right?”

“It’s, um, it’s pretty creepy… at least I’ve heard.” Eret and I managed to get the dumpster into place. 

“I did it once. It’s amazing when it works.” 

“Okay, back up a minute here. What about that Mr. Halo guy? Is he the saint for the island or something?” Eret looked back at the town below us. 

“His family, I think, like owns or owned some of the island or something… he’s been shackled in the same spot for like seventy years. He’s kind of what you’d call a local legend. His house is on the other side of the woods.”

“I can’t imagine living in the same exact house looking at the same exact wall for that long a time.” I climbed up the dumpster and hopped over the fence. The other two joined me a heartbeat later.

We walked down the path, finding the trail that dipped down to the beach.

“Oh, before we get there, I should mention-” 

Tommy was cut off by laughter. 

“Who’s that?” Eret asked from behind me.

(Sorry if it's too long. But I shall try to post the next chapters every few days or so. Each should be around this long.)

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

HEy Dude/person/amazing writer, I had a tiny lil prompt/idea for a story that I would love for you to try... I don't even know if you would consider it but basically Crowley has a terrible dream where 'Zira dies in his arms (idk if this is pre/post apocalypse) and when he wakes up there's concern and a bit of cocoa (author's choice for what happens). Anyway I love all your fics (I binge-read all of them last weekend) and please continue your amazing work. Much love, ur Canadian pal Emma

WELL. Turns out I wanted to try this very much. So thank you!!

CW for a very grim nightmare (T rated for physical pain, emotional pain, and apparent MCD). Nightmare hurt/comfort.

(Also partly inspired by yesterday’s @goodomenscelebration prompt, “Through the Ages”)

--

The Forgetting Place

Crawley only ever had one nightmare.

Humans dreamt of falling, dropping from an undefined height, jerking awake at the last second to land, safe but terrified, on their beds.

Not Crawley.

His nightmare started with the landing, the pain of it, limbs shattering against the stone floor. He always began with his face in the dirt, on his stomach. Blind in the darkness, doubled over with hunger. Usually screaming.

They didn’t hear him.

There was always a they.

Far above, voices echoing down the long, long stone-lined drop. Clamoring but indistinct.

When he managed to roll onto his back, which wasn’t always, he could see the walls stretching up, up for eternity, the opening high above smaller than his thumb, but the light of it blindingly bright still.

They were feasting up there. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was certain, a feast that went on forever as he writhed in pain, starving, begging for a scrap, begging for relief, anything.

He was never hungry in reality, but in his nightmare the hunger never ceased, gnawing, aching, growing inside him as he twisted and howled at the bottom of the well.

He thought of it as a well for a long time; only much later did he learn the word for it.

Oubliette.

--

He didn’t have the nightmare every time he slept. If he did, he’d never sleep again.

But when it came, it was always the same.

Little changes. Different bones broken. Different spots in the tiny cell. Sometimes there were spikes, if he’d been really stressed about something.

But always, the diners above carried on, ignoring his cries.

And why not? What was he but garbage, cast aside, discarded, gone from sight and soon forgotten?

Oubliette.

The forgetting place.

--

Crawley didn’t remember when the first change appeared. Some time after Eden, which didn’t narrow it down since that was when time began.

He rolled over, looked up. And someone looked back.

--

Someone, please. He begged in the dream. Never seemed to be able to stop himself.

I’m still alive down here! Please! Help me!

The pangs of hunger twisted in him. His stomach didn’t growl, it was far beyond that, just a long unending pain through his gut.

God, Satan, Someone! Please! I’m starving! Please!

And then, one night, as that distant face gazed at him, something tumbled down. Small. Glinting just a little in the light.

It bounced against the walls, ricocheting from one side to the other, again and again, to land with a crunch somewhere in the corner.

The face disappeared.

Ignoring the scream in his limbs, both legs broken this time, one arm as well, he forced himself back onto his stomach, searched the pitch shadows for any sign of the object.

There. A patch of darkness that was a little less black.

He wriggled towards it for an eternity, arm reaching, straining, until it finally touched something other than hard, smooth stone slick with Crowley’s blood.

Rough on one side, silky on the other, the curve inside glittering with faint opalescence.

An oyster shell.

--

For a thousand years, they tumbled down, the cast-offs of the feast.

A chicken bone.

Shattered nut shells.

A sprinkling of wine, so dispersed he could only just taste it pressing his tongue to the stone.

More garbage, thrown down to be forgotten beside him.

Or, perhaps, a gift. An offering. A lifeline.

A spark of hope in the darkness.

It should have made the nightmare easier to bear. But it did not.

There was a reason the Greeks considered hope an evil.

--

Every time the dream began, he fell anew, his bones freshly broken. Yet at the same time, he could remember all the torment of the thousands of years before.

So, this time, as he twisted his broken spine until his eyes found the light above, he searched for that distant face, for the scraps of food thrown to him.

Instead, another body fell beside him, landing with a crunch, and a scream.

What’s happening? Where am I? Help! Someone help me!

Crowley tried to turn towards the voice, but his back was too far gone. He strained his neck leaning back tear-filled eyes.

He knew that voice.

Aziraphale!

Can anyone hear me? Help! HELP! Oh, God, please, his voice broke into sobs, I’m down here, help me!

Crowley screamed his name, over and over, pressed his limbs to the ground, ignored the pain as he moved, inch by negligible inch, across the endless, endless floor.

--

Crowley woke up with a gasp, hands reaching out, still trying to grasp the pale form in the dark. But there was nothing, no one in the room but him.

As always, he had to command his heart to stop hammering, remind his lungs how to breathe, in then out. Had to fight the feeling that something was wrong, that reality was shifting. That the dream was the truth and this the lie.

But this time, he had more to contend with than the memories of his own screams.

Barely pausing to dress – tunic, shoes, cloak, more than enough for the middle of the night – he tore through the streets of London. It was only his third time in the city since its founding. Still wasn’t sure he liked it – even less in the midst of a storm, rain pouring around him, thunder echoing across the land – but it had made a good meeting spot to discuss certain points of future business. Certain Arrangements.

The rooms Aziraphale rented were on the other side of the city.

He collapsed against the door, hammering on it, choking for air amidst the slashing raindrops. “Angel! Aziraphale! Can you hear me? Aziraphale!”

The door swung open, and he very nearly collapsed onto the soft figure within, blue eyes blinking in the low glow of the fire. “What – what are you playing at?” Aziraphale’s face collapsed into a scowl. “We agreed not to meet again for the rest of the year.”

Crowley ignored that, grasped the tunic, soaking wet fingers sinking into the soft white wool. Of course Aziraphale was fully dressed in the middle of the night, as if he may be summoned to the king’s court any moment.

“Are you…” The angry frown softened into something more like concern. “My dear fellow, are you alright? What happened?” He leaned out the door, glancing up the street, trying to penetrate the gloom. “Did someone…contact you?”

It seemed foolish now. Obviously, obviously not, but he had to be sure.

“Aziraphale did you…do you…” He swallowed, gripped Aziraphale’s tunic a little tighter. “Do you ever have nightmares?”

“Nightmares? I never dream at all, that I can recall, and I hardly ever sleep.”

“But did you – I mean…” Get a grip, Crowley. “When was the last time you slept? Not tonight?”

“Good lord, no, not for at least forty years.” A soft hand landed atop Crowley’s, gently pulling it free, clasping it. The fingers of the other hand stroked Crowley’s knuckles. “Are you alright, dear? Do you…wish to speak of it?”

He had never, ever spoken of it before.

A streak of lightning cracked the sky, and the thunder chased after it.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Crowley pulled his hand free. “I was just…I just…” He tugged at his unbelted tunic, pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders.

“Are you…having second thoughts? About the Arrangement?”

In the darkness, a voice screamed for help, begging, pleading, but only in Crowley’s mind.

“What? No.” He scoffed, tossing his head. “Not a chance. You – Angel – you’re the one with the doubts.”

“Only because – Oh, I know you think me a fool, but I know what they would do to you if they found out.”

He was a fool, of course. There was nothing they could do to Crowley that they hadn’t already done. He was, in a twisted way, completely safe.

It wasn’t what they could do to him that scared Crowley now.

--

Aziraphale! Aziraphale! I’m right here!

Oh, God, somebody help! Help me, please! I can’t – I can’t breathe – my ribs – Help me!

They’d fallen at the same time tonight. Crowley reached, grasped, pulled himself across the floor, inch by pain-wracked inch. Not even three feet separated them, but it may as well have been the length of the universe.

Please! Please! I’m down here! I don’t know – Please! I’m still here! Help me!

Crowley strained his arm, but it still fell short. Aziraphale! Right here, just – just reach for my hand, I’m right here!

But no matter how he called, Aziraphale never heard him.

Finally, Crowley threw back his head and howled. You bastards! You fucking animals! He’s one of you! He doesn’t belong down here! Take him back!

The diners up above never hesitated in their meal.

--

Over the centuries, the dream changed very little.

Sometimes Aziraphale begged for help, for food, for a thought from his compatriots above.

Other times he whimpered in pain, in hunger, in loneliness.

Every time, a little weaker.

Every time, Crowley landed three feet away, but they may as well have been trapped in different cells, a continent apart.

Lying there, seeing the pain on his best friend’s face, watching the angelic glow drain from his body, was the worst torment Crowley had ever suffered.

--

One night, Aziraphale crashed to the ground, and made no sound at all.

Angel?

The hand stirred in the darkness, but nothing else moved.

Paralyzed from the ribs down, Crowley pressed his hands to the floor propelling himself forward. Centimeter by centimeter.

Aziraphale. I’m…I’m here…

The head turned to face him. Blue eyes glazed, distant, unfocused. He coughed, blood leaking from his mouth. C…Crowley…?

Yes! Oh, Someone, yes, it’s me. I’m here. I’m here, Aziraphale!

I can’t… he coughed again. Can’t see you. The hand fumbled vaguely. Are you…?

Crowley reached, but was still too far away. I’m coming, Angel. Hold on. Hands pressed again to the slick stone, another push.

They aren’t coming for me. Not ever. Aziraphale’s lips twitched. I think I don’t exist anymore.

Crowley flung out his hand, his own cracked and broken nails falling just short of Aziraphale’s, still well-manicured after all this time. No, no, you’re here. I’m here. Just hold on.

I’m sorry, Crowley. I can’t…I don’t…

He could see the life fading from those eyes.

No! NO! One more push and he was past the hand, reaching for the white robes, probably stained with the blood and the mud and the filth of the hole, but he grabbed them, pulled Aziraphale to him –

Already cold.

--

Crowley woke up screaming.

Aziraphale lifted his eyes from his book, frowning with concern in the soft glow of his angelic light. “My dear fellow, whatever is the matter?”

“No – I – I –” Crowley kicked the blankets aside, squirmed across the bed, pressing himself against Aziraphale, until he could feel his warmth, his heartbeat, fingers burrowing into that tartan flannel.

“Crowley…”

“Here…” he gasped holding on as tightly as he could. He never cried while awake, but his voice felt close to breaking. “’M here, Angel. Right here. I just…I’m…”

After a moment, the soft slide of a book placed on the bedside table.

And two arms, strong as steel, soft as clouds, warm as a summer’s day, wrapped around Crowley.

“Hush now, dear. It’s alright. I’m right here.”

--

“It was just a dream,” Crowley said, though he still hadn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand. “Bad dream, but…you don’t need to fuss.”

“Nonsense.” Rain tapped on the kitchen windows as the kettle finished its boil. “Anything that scared you so badly is worth fussing over. Though I will need this hand to finish making you cocoa.”

“Don’t need cocoa,” he muttered, staring at the black mug with the coiled-serpent handle. But he didn’t need to see the angel’s face to know how those eyebrows were raised. Groaning, he let go of the hand, instead wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s soft middle, burying his face in the back of his shoulder.

“That’s a little better,” Aziraphale chided, voice gentle.

Even in the middle of the night, their cottage was bright, warm, open – everything the pit in his dream was not. No sound but that of the rain outside. Cozy was not something Crowley would ever admit to wanting, but right now, he soaked it all in, shivering despite the hot mug in his hands.

Aziraphale led him to the sofa, settling down in the corner, and held his arms wide. Crowley slowly sat beside him, still hesitant, still waiting for it to hurt again, for it to all go dark.

Until he leaned back into that bottomless warmth, felt those arms twine about him, pulling him close, keeping him safe.

“Now, why don’t you tell me about it?”

Crowley shook his head.

“Come on, dear. I’m sure –”

“Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t real.” He took a sip of the cocoa. Just a quick cup of the cheap stuff with hardly a dash of milk, but it wasn’t bad.

Aziraphale tutted, but instead of complaining, he asked, “Do you just want to sit here for a bit? Not talk of anything?”

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale settled in a little more comfortably, pressing his lips to the back of Crowley’s head, and didn’t say another word.

Another sip of the cocoa. Really, not bad at all. It was like ambrosia. Food for the gods at an unending feast.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I only ever have one nightmare…”

--

It seemed to take hours to tell, but at the same time there was little to say. It helped that he wasn’t looking Aziraphale in the eye, instead staring out the rain-streaked window, at the ghostly shapes of the rosebushes tossing in the wind.

“You never said anything,” Aziraphale finally managed.

“Nh. Wasn’t real. Nothing to talk about, is there?”

“Crowley.” A hand brushed through his hair. “You’ve been watching me die by inches for a thousand years. How is that nothing to talk about?” A shrug. “And you say it’s one continuous dream?”

“Yuh. I fall in fresh every time, but the rest is…yeah.”

“And…next time?”

Crowley shrugged, feeling his shoulders glide across Aziraphale’s chest. “Same as ever. Trapped in an oubliette. Alone. Forgotten. It’s never going to change.”

“What about me? Where will I be next time you have this dream?”

Crowley sat up, pulling himself away from the warmth, letting the cold air wake him with a slap of reality. “I…I dunno. Doesn’t matter.” He tried to take another drink, but the mug was empty. “I guess…maybe you’ll be back up at the feast. Where you belong.”

“That doesn’t seem likely, does it?” Aziraphale asked softly, taking the mug and setting it aside. “Besides, that’s not where I belong.”

“Maybe you’ll…you’ll die again. Every time. Just those last few seconds and then…gone.”

“Perhaps.” Aziraphale took his hands. “I’m not sure that fits the pattern, either.”

Crowley cleared his throat, but didn’t trust his voice to stay steady. “You might.” He cleared it again. “Might still be there. Your body. Just lying there. And I’ll watch it…Mmmmmh.” Clenched his jaw. “I’ll have to see it…” The sob he’d been holding back finally escaped, and he squeezed Aziraphale’s hands hard enough to break a human’s. “I don’t want to see that, Angel. I know it isn’t you, it shouldn’t matter, but I can’t – I can’t watch that…”

Once more, Aziraphale gathered him into his arms, and for the first time, Crowley cried. Great, hiccupping sobs, tears pressed into Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale rubbed his back, waiting for the storm to subside. He finally asked, gently, “How often do you have this dream?”

“Dunno. Never really tracked it.” Crowley sniffed miserably, head still resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Couple times a century? Once or twice?”

“Then we have time.” Aziraphale pressed his hands to Crowley’s shoulders, pushed him to sit upright and face that beaming smile. Then he cupped Crowley’s face in his hands, brought him down to press foreheads together. “And we will find a way. To stop the dream. Or to change it. Or to put me – the real me – in there with you. I don’t know. But we will find a way.”

Crowley nodded wordlessly, and Aziraphale looped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer so their noses brushed as well.

“Because, my dear, you are never alone. And you will never be forgotten.”

--

(Thanks for reading! Shout out to my friend Tod who, when asked for a dramatic and angsty nightmare death suggestion, quickly outlined his take on oubliettes, which I thought made a powerful metaphor.)

(However, my historian brain compels me to add that despite the nightmarish name - the opening is called an angstloch, too - oubliettes were almost certainly used for some kind of basement storage, not as cells and torture chambers. Victorians and their Gothic imaginations are to blame for the more common tropes...)

[brucewaynehastoomanykids]

I'm not who you think I am

Azarath metrion zinthos...

Azarath metrion zinthos...

Azarath metrion zinthos...

Aza--

The Titans alarm blared through the tower, distributing Raven's meditation session. She mentally groaned today was not the day to be dealing with villains.

For the last few weeks, it seemed like the world was out to get her. Between dealing with her own emotions, her father, Garfield and Jaime arguing over petty things that they would more likely forget about later, and Kori breathing down everyone's necks, she was bound to lose it at any point.

The only person in the tower that really didn't seem to give her any trouble was Damian. I mean, they were a couple after all, and even if they weren't, it wouldn't be anything new. However, in this case, Damian would always be the person she'd go to when she needed a break from everything and vice versa, but he had been gone for a little over a week on some, what Raven liked to call, 'Batman business', and wasn't expecting to be back for another few days. Sure, they had phone calls and video chats, but they would always come short because of something happening and one of them having to leave, leaving them barely any time to talk.

Raven ran down to the main area of the tower where her teammates were waiting. "What's the emergency?" She asked as she walked down the small flight of stairs.

"The Fearsome Five is causing a ruckus in the city." Kori began, leading the team out the door. "I've received reports of destruction, robbery, anything you could possibly think of, really."

"You know with Rob gone this ain't gonna be an even fight." Garfield said.

"We've taken The Fearsome Five down before without Damian." Raven said with a slight snap in her voice.

"Yeah, I know." He whined. "But it's a lot faster when he's here."

"Well, he's not." Now she was really snapping at him. Though she didn't really mean to. She was just frustrated with everything going on and, if she were honest, she desperately missed Damian and wanted him home. She muttered a quiet apology and walked ahead of her team.

~

The city was a mess. Buildings were crumbling on both ends of the street, some even catching on fire, bank alarms were ringing, children were crying and clinging to their mothers who were trying to find their way out of the ruckus. The entire scene made Raven sick. It reminded her of the destruction of Azarath, just to a minor degree. How someone could do something like this was beyond her.

The culprits in question emerged from the smoke and ash holding backs of money in each of their hands.

Jinx looked at the four, counting silently to herself before smirking, "Where's the pretty boy?"

Raven wasn't very appreciative of the cocky tone that came from the sorceress before her but still answered her calmly, "He's away. It's just us."

"What a shame. Just my luck, right?"

She threw an energy blast at the team and all hell broke loose. Starfire seized after both Shimmer and Mammoth, Blue Beatle came for Psimon, and Beast Boy after Gizmo, leaving Raven to deal with Jinx, blocking her attack with a shield of her own energy magic.

Both sides struggled for a while. Blast after blast and hit after hit, neither side seemed to be slowing down any time soon.

Raven was growing angrier at her fight. Jinx had been making snarky comments and taunts since the fight started and it was starting to drive her nuts.

"Is it true what they say?" Jinx as the two finally clashed, "That the little crystal on your head has your dad trapped?"

The question threw Raven off guard, causing her to weaken herself and giving Jinx the upper hand on pinning her to the ground.

"If it is true..." the sorceress began, leaning down towards the empath's face, "then I wonder what happens if I do this..."

She touched the small stone, sending a shock of magic through her fingers and into it. Raven's eyes went wide. She could feel herself losing all sanity she had left. All the anger and frustration she had built up until this point was about to make itself known. Her vision went from black to white, to red in a matter of seconds before she had completely blacked out.

~

Raven awoke in a cell. Her wrists were chained with cuffs that halted her magic. She recognized the cell from her visits to Damian's home: this was a cell in the Batcave. For a moment, she wondered how she had got there before bits and pieces came back to her. She remembered screaming of citizens and the yells of her friends trying to stop her. She remembered nearly killing everyone in sight and destroying nearby buildings and roads. Then she remembered a plane: the Batwing coming into Jump City.

"I must have fought Batman himself..." then, she realized, "Oh no... I must've fought Damian, too..."

She begins to think the worst at that point. She had feared for a while that Damian was only with her for research reasons because he didn't trust her. Because of this, she refused to ever look into his emotions. She couldn't bear the thought of finding out it was the truth. Thought, if that is, in fact, true, she'd definitely find out about it now.

She heard some yelling going on upstairs. She recognized the voices to be Bruce and Dick. It was difficult from where she was, but she tried to listen in on what they were saying.

"...ruce, aren't you being a little rash?"

Dick, she decided.

"She's a chaotic monster, Dick, she has to be restrained somehow."

Bruce...

"Look, all I'm saying is that we don't know what happened. This could be one huge misunder--"

"What misunderstanding, Dick?! You were there, you saw what she did, for God's sake, Dick, she tried to kill us!"

"You don't see the Titans every day, Bruce. I've seen this girl every day since she arrived and trust me she is anything but a monster. The only reason you--... Did you hear that?"

"Came from the roof."

"Wait is that..."

"She's getting away! Still think she's good, Dick?"

"Shut it."

There was running before silence filled the air.

"What was--" Raven began, but was cut off by a familiar voice.

"A distraction."

Raven snapped her head around to see Damian holding a pair of keys in his hand.

"Distracting him with his own holo-tech. Grayson's idea, actually. Still, we should hurry, my father is no fool." He unlocked the door and got the cuffs off Raven, who only looked down at her freed wrists in confusion. She snapped out of her trance when she saw Damian reach for her hand, leading her to a nearby motorbike that he was obviously planning to use as a getaway vehicle.

"What about your dad? Won't he come looking for us?"

"Grayson said he had a plan for convincing him to reconsider his wishes. Is it a good plan is still in question, but it's the only plan we have."

"Whatever you say..."

They were silent the whole way back to the tower, leaving the Empath to her thoughts. She mentally scolded herself for allowing Jinx to get that close to her but was madder at the fact that she caved into her advances so easily. She knew she was stronger than that, and wondered why she would have allowed herself to be overtaken by a low leveled witch. It was then she decided that Bruce was right, that she was too monstrous to be a hero.

The couple finally reached the doors of the tower. Raven put a hand on Damian's shoulder, stopping him from going inside.

"Wait, Damian..." she hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I wasn't sure you'd actually save me... thank you."

The boy wonder scoffed slightly. "You should know by now that I do not care what anyone else thinks. I will always back you up."

"You didn't let me finish... I think your father is right."

"What?"

She crossed her arms and gave him a serious look. "Damian, half the city is destroyed because of me. Hell, I tried to kill people I care about... besides, it's not like you probably trust me anyway. You've always been skeptical of people, even your friends, and family. And especially people who have done something like this." She flung a hand out, pointing at the city where reconstruction was still happening. "And not just that..."

"Then what else?"

"If I may be so blunt: you're not exactly the most hideous person in the world, and it doesn't help you share the blood of the biggest billionaire out there... you could've had anyone. You could have had someone better than me--someone more heroic than me... so why me? Why trust me? Why love me?"

He was silent for a moment. Shocked at what came out of the girl he loved so dearly. Truth be told, he loved everything about her. Even her faults. After a moment, he finally was able to respond, "Because you are the only one I want. You always have been... is that really so hard for you to believe?"

"Damian, listen..." She put both of her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye as she spoke. "I'm not who you think I am... I'm a demon who has her own demons. Ones you can't possibly imagine. And I don't want to hurt you because of those demons."

Damian smiled a rare but genuine smile. "And I pray one day you will allow me to meet them. But until then, I'm just pleased to stay by your side. You have already proven to me that you are trustworthy, Raven, time and time again. I know you believe that your outward appearance and your family history makes you a horrible being, but trust me, it doesn't... I think I'm a pretty good example of that. And even with recent events, I know this isn't fully your fault. I've already been in contact with Koriand'r, she told me everything. Besides, as you said, you, yourself, have demons."

Raven couldn't say anything. She only looked at him pleadingly to just leave her and live an at least semi-safer life, but he only continued to smile, saying, "You cannot convince me otherwise, beloved."

She sighed in defeat. "I figured as much... though I should warn you that there may come a day you regret that decision."

"Highly doubtful."

"What?"

"You heard me. You should know I could never regret you. Not for a moment."

Raven smiled, seeing as though there was no point in arguing with him. "You should probably go help Dick."

"Sadly, yes. You should get inside. I'm sure everyone is worried." He said, walking towards his bike. "I'll return shortly." And with that, he drove off.

Raven let out a sigh before turning a heal to walk into the tower, smiling slightly to herself.