#Little Sammy Sneeze

[tomoleary]

Winsor McCay (1871-1934) “Little Sammy Sneeze” (1904-1906) Le Petit Sammy Éternue

Source

Even without knowing French you get the visual gag. He sneezes and is kicked out.

#winsor mccay #Little Sammy Sneeze #Le Petit Sammy Éternue

[jasmines-library]

Hello!! I was hoping I could request for a Winchester sister reader that's taking care of the brothers when they're sick? Maybe making chicken noodle soup for them and stuff! Just something cute, I just need some comfort 🥹 Thank you if you take my request! 🫶

Noodle Soup

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Note: Sorry its a little short, I wanted to get some spn out for you all tonight because its been a hot minute since I wrote for spn and I’m ashamed

Word Count: 1k

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

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You never thought you would ever say this, but the infamous Dean Winchester was sick. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he would ever say it. Not out loud at least, but this morning, he could hardly drag himself out of bed and he was hit with a migraine and blocked sinuses that completely threw him off balance.

 It put him in a bad mood as he tried to make his way to the kitchen, grumbling something about how he was fine. He was betrayed by the dry cough that left him heaving and leaning heavily on the side of the counter. You considered getting up many times as you watched him from the kitchen table as you scanned the papers for any possible hunts, but you knew his foul mood would more than likely end in an argument that you didn’t want to be involved in. What finally made you push your chair out from the table to put a stop to Dean’s antics was when he was fumbling around with a pan and dropped it on the floor with a clatter. 

“Alright. That’s it. ” You linked an arm around him, pulling him away from the counter. 

“Get the hell off me, Y/N.” Dean tried to push you away. “I’m fine.”

“Dean.” You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes at him stubbornly. “You can barely stand straight.”

He tried to turn back to the kitchen. “Piss off.”

You took his arm and dragged him back to the sofa. He sank back into it with a cough. 

“Stay put.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and grumbled, but made no attempt to stand. 

Sighing in content, you made your way back to the kitchen to make a start on breakfast when you heard another set of lumbering footsteps echoing through the bunker. 

“I swear to god, Dean-” You started, making your way out of the kitchen only to come face to face with a very gruff-looking Sam. His hair was tousled and his eyes had dark shadows beneath them. 

“Sammy?” You frowned. 

“Hey y/n/n” He greeted. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if someone had replaced it with sandpaper. Perhaps it was not just one set of coughs and sneezes that kept you up last night. 

“You too, huh?” You asked as he plonked himself on a stool in the kitchen. 

Although less stubborn than his older brother, Sam still hesitated for a moment before sighing. 

“Yep. I think we must have picked it up at the bar on the last hunt.”

It made sense. The two of them had gone out to the bar the other nights while you scouted out the local town. You weren’t sick, so it seemed to add up.

Sam groaned, rubbing his temples to try and ease the pressure. 

“Why don’t you go and join Dean? I’ll bring some food out in a bit.”

Nodding, Sammy took his leave, stumbling back to his brother. 

~

“Alrighty…” You balanced two bowls of steaming soup in your hands and you pushed open the door with your foot. 

Your brothers didn’t seem to have improved much since this morning. Stubbornly as ever they both sat bundled up in blankets on the couch, wallowing in their own self pity and watching whatever they could find on the TV to keep themselves entertained. In the meantime, you were making sure that they were well cared for: making sure their temperatures didn’t get too high, or handing them painkillers to help with the headache. It was only fair, they had spent countless hours looking after you in the past when you were ill. 

That was why you found yourself in the kitchen nursing a bowl of chicken noodle soup. It was your mother’s recipe; something that John had stashed away at the back of his journal. You could see why: it was the perfect remedy for a day like this. 

Handing a bowl to both of your brothers, you watched as they sipped the steaming liquid and twisted the noodles around on a fork. Glad to see that they could stomach food, you went back into the kitchen to grab your own bowl. Your two brothers had sprawled themselves out across the length of the sofa, so you took a seat on the floor with your head leaning against Sam’s legs. 

“Thank you.” Dean said as you took your seat.

“It’s not a problem.” You told him.

“We should be the ones taking care of you.” Dean continued.

You frowned, deepening the creases on your forehead. “Says who?”

Dean faltered. “Us.”

“Let me take care of you for once.”

The three of you stayed there for the rest of the day, talking and watching films through half lidded eyes and checking that your brothers were feeling okay. But, a few hours and a mountain of tissues later, they had finally drifted off to sleep.

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SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao

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#supernatural x reader #spn x reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x sister reader #sick fic #comfort #fluff #spn #spn fanfic

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Boys (+ Taehoon + Wangguk) being ill + YOU looking after them hc

Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, Vin Jin, Johan Seong, Seong Taehoon, Han Wangguk

Gun Park

He is self-sufficient to the core.

Does not need any looking after.

You offer to run out and buy medicine? No need, he is stocked better than a pharmacy.

Reminders to hydrate? He's had 2 litres already and it's not even midday.

You don't need to tell him to rest, his body is his temple and he takes the utmost care.

Some homemade food though? Oh. Well. You can't buy homemade.

Him lying all fever brained on your lap as you watch TV or whatever? That's not so bad neither.

You running a bath for him? Thanks. That's thoughtful.

Huh, he thinks maybe it's not so bad relying on someone other than himself.

Goo Kim

Clingy and fussy-

But you knew that already, being his partner.

Treats you as his hot water bottle one moment, the next will kick you away saying he's too warm.

He expects to be babied, and he expects your full attention. So please drop everything and tend to him now.

If you could also run your fingers through his hair and let him lie on you for the next few hours, that would also be great.

And if you can put his favourite show on that would also be appreciated.

You trying to watch something else once he's sleeping? No chance. He is wide awake and pouting at you.

At least he will give you the same treatment when you're ill.

Samuel Seo

Samuel is not ill.

How dare you imply he is in anything but peak physical condition

That's not a cough, that's not a sniffle, and he is not flushed.

There's something wrong with the thermometer, he is fine.

Nothing is wrong with his voice (as he slowly loses it through the day...)

Will take a lot of persuading and convincing to rest up

"Yes, there will be other people to pick up your work. And no, it's not a personal slight to say that you are sick."

You have to pry his laptop and tablet and phone from his fingers.

Of course, that's easy. His strength is waning in his current state.

"Shhh Sammy, go to bed." Tuck him in. lay next to him, pet his hair.

He'll soon be napping next to you, holding you tight.

Jake Kim

Also complete denial at first.

He is the head of Big Deal, he cannot be sick.

That SINU! sneeze is not a front. That is actually how he sneezes.

Phelgm and snot everywhere. It's pretty repulsive to be honest.

After one too many sneezes, and everyone flinching the hell away from him, Jerry carries him home to you.

Wants to be babied, wants to be fussed, wants your complete attention.

Goes about it in a slightly less obnoxious way, but he's so adorable, even trying to give you a wink in his current state so you can't say no.

Pads around the home following you, blanket wrapped around him, tissue shoved up his nose.

Might as well give up whatever you're doing and tend to your boyfriend.

But Jake would absolutely do the same for you.

Vin Jin

This fucking guy-

Demanding and a little shit.

If you let him, he would take absolute full advantage.

Would run you in circles doing things for him.

"Y/N I want some water, Y/N where's my medicine, Y/N I need some chocolate, Y/N I need a burger." "What?? Shouldn't you eat something.. healthier?" "No babe, the body wants what it wants."

Will flop all over you, lying on your lap, your chest. Partly because he finds you comforting, partly because he's a little asshole.

"Sing me a lullaby" "Uh... ok." You sing. "Actually, no shut up babe you sound like shit."

Once he falls asleep, his breath laboured and cheeks flushed, you can't help but think ok, he's pretty cute. Only when unconscious though.

Will still keep his sunglasses on the whole time. "Just in case someone ambushes me." "WHO?!"

Johan Seong

Way too ill and low in energy to put up any of his usual defenses. Will revert back to a little meow meow.

You are absolutely not allowed out of sight.

In fact, you are not allowed out of arm's reach.

Will cling to you like a koala, that is a fact.

Actually, you might as well all stay in bed, Eden and Miro included because you are guaranteed to not get anything done.

Even cooking is only a possibility. Hopefully you have all medicine stocked, and some decent, cheap, healthy take-outs nearby.

Because if Johan wakes up from his nap and you're not there, he will be sulking for a year straight.

The only excuse?

"Johan, I need to walk Eden and Miro." grumble grumble "Ok... but be back quick?"

Seong Taehoon

The grumpiest babygirl you have ever seen.

It's a goddamn good job you love him because my god, this guy!

Equal parts bad-tempered and clingy

A bit like how he usually is, to be honest, but turned up to the MAX.

Go away, you're crowding him one second, he's all up in your face wanting cuddles the next.

And the fact that he's not allowed to train?

Good lord, don't anger it further. It's not like he's in any fit state to train anyway but he will still be fuming about it.

No Taekwondo, no arcade. He might as well just DIE.

At least he's still got his other favourite thing - you. This placates him a little.

Han Wangguk

Wangguk does not get sick, Wangguk is the caretaker.

Other people get ill and he looks after them.

"No, seriously, Wangguk. You're burning up. Go back to bed!"

Needs a lot of goading to actually rest. Even then, he doesn't fully rest.

He keeps a watchful eye over you, just in case you need him.

After he gets used to it? Absolutely loves it.

You making some food for him, grabbing him medicine, gentle cuddles, forehead smooches, even taking care of Gyeoul?!

He really could get used to this.

Is a puddle, constantly leaning on you and wanting to be close.

After this, he always enjoys being ill. Only a tad. It's a way for him to be spoilt guilt-free by you.

#lookism #lookism hc #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #samuel seo x reader #jake kim x reader #vin jin x reader #johan seong x reader #how to fight #how to fight x reader #viral hit #viral hit x reader #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehun x reader #han wangguk #han wangguk x reader #viral hit headcanons #how to fight headcanons #wannaeatramyeon

[waywardxwords]

Witches

Summary: While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18; THIS CONTENT IS RATED M FOR MATURE Swearing, Supernatural-y things (witches), sex pollen trope, smut (p in v, f masturbation), fluff

A/N: This is my first time writing Dean smut and also my first time using the whole sex pollen trope. But this was fun, and I enjoyed writing it. If you’re feeling up to it, please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

There wasn’t anything you hated more in this supernatural world than witches. They were ruthless, conniving and downright batshit crazy. But alas, if you and your hunting buddies didn’t hunt them, then no one would. They would continue wreaking havoc on anyone they wanted, and you couldn’t have that.

So now you found yourself in the living room of a woman you had suspected spent her free time doing witchy things. You had no idea what you were looking for–bones, spell books, weird herbs or plants; the options were literally endless. 

All you knew: people in this town all connected to this woman were ending up in rather interesting predicaments and you were determined to find out why. 

“Don’t touch anything that looks suspicious,” Dean’s voice came through the other line as you used one hand to press your phone to your ear. “I really wish you would’ve waited for me. We should’ve gone in together.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no time for that,” you muttered as you searched. There were a bunch of old books, but none of them screamed hocus pocus to you. You fumbled with a tiny wooden trinket box that had intricate lines and details on the outside. As you lifted the lid, you saw it contained some kind of yellowish-green powder. “This is interesting…” your voice trailed off as you brought the box closer to investigate. With your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear, you lifted the box. 

“I’m serious, do not touch anything. You listenin’ to me?” You rolled your eyes at his voice. 

“I’m not touching anything, Dean. Cool it,” you mumbled as you examined the substance. Within a moment, your nose suddenly felt tingly and itchy. It started before you could stop it—sneeze. A cloud of the yellowish-green powder encircled your face and created a haze. Your eyes immediately felt watery. The phone fell from your ear as you hurried to place the box back down on the table and brushed your face with your hands. As you pulled your hands away, you saw dusty yellowish-green hues. You missed Dean calling your name through the phone, but he didn’t miss the words that fell from your lips in the background. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” You breathed as you plucked the phone from the hardwood floor and brought it back to your ear.

“What’s happening?” Dean’s voice was elevated and you heard the rev of the Impala’s engine in the background.

“Uh, Dean?” You watched the powder on the floor around you. “I accidentally touched it.”

“God dammit,” he groaned. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean had gotten to the witch’s house in minutes, which made you realize you probably should have waited for him and gone in together. But that didn’t matter anymore. You were waiting for symptoms to start–every little thing you felt made you wonder if it was caused by the mysterious substance. 

“Talk to me, Sammy,” Dean answered the phone roughly as he sped to get back to the motel. He said it was the safest place to be in case something happened. Sam was on his own hunt, about four hours away. “It’s like a yellow color,” he described, as Sam probably asked what it looked like. 

“Like pollen,” you murmured from the passenger seat. Suddenly, you felt warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was an odd feeling, almost like you had just consumed a warm cup of tea or hot soup. 

“Yeah, like pollen,” Dean repeated into the phone. The warmth wasn’t going away, it was only getting hotter. So hot, you felt the need to pull off your leather jacket even though the cool autumn air nipped at your skin. Dean did a double take from the road to you, and back again. “What are you doing?” He pulled the phone slightly away from his mouth. 

“I’m getting really hot, Dean,” you mumbled, worry crept through your words. You didn’t get worried often—or show it, at least—but these damn witches…all bets were off. 

“She says she’s getting hot,” Dean relayed over the phone before pulling it away and hitting the ‘Speaker’ button. 

“Uh, okay…so she sneezed into a box of pollen and now she feels hot?” Sam was typing as he spoke. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean confirmed as he turned into the parking lot of the motel. By now, your skin was on fire. The heat had spread from just the pit of your stomach to your chest, your arms, your face, and…other places you preferred not to mention. 

“I’m on fire,” you mumbled as tears stung your eyes. As soon as the car was in park, you had the front passenger door open and moved to be outside of the Impala. The cold air felt glorious on your skin, but the fear kept your feet moving. 

“She’s burning up, Sammy. You got anything? Anything at all?” The worry was present in Dean’s voice, as well, though you barely noticed over the waves of heat coursing through you. 

Once the two of you got into your shared motel room, you beelined for the bathroom. Your fingers wrapped around the edges of the porcelain sink and you closed your eyes. The coolness from the surface of the sink calmed your shakes, even if just for a moment. 

“A what pollen?” Dean asked into the phone, as if he couldn’t have heard Sam correctly. After a pause, he continued. “You gotta be kidding me.” He breathed, but didn’t hesitate to get his mind back in the game. “Okay, walk me through it.” 

Dean’s tone should have made you nervous, but all you could focus on was the way your heart nearly vibrated in your chest. There was a heat blazing so hot in your center, that you realized at that moment it had created a slickness in your underwear. Your nipples were so hard, they ached against the soft cotton fabric of your bra. 

You glanced up to look in the mirror for the first time. That’s when you noticed the heat had risen and created patches of redness up your chest and into your cheeks. Your breathing was labored, almost, and you realized it was as if you had just had…

“Okay, hear me out,” Dean grumbled as he tossed his cell phone onto his bed and ran his hand over his mouth as he tried to find the right words. “You’re not gonna like this…but it’s called sex pollen.” He cleared his voice before he said it. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Your chest rose and fell with each breath, you eyed him carefully but that made you feel even hotter. The warmth was overwhelming, so you fanned yourself with one of your hands. 

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up as if he were just the messenger. “It’s a spell. It makes you wanna get it on, Marvin Gaye style.” He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes and threw the hand towel at his face, missing slightly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” 

“Get it together,” you huffed. “So how do I break it?”

Dean gnawed at the inside of his lip, which was something you hadn’t seen him do before—or noticed, anyway. God, you couldn’t look away from his mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you thought you might crumble. Your fingers reached out quickly to grip the doorway of the bathroom. 

“From what Sam has read,” he paused as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “You gotta…do it.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do it?” You repeated. “Can you be a grown-up for five seconds, please?” 

“Sex, darlin’,” he closed his eyes and said it hurriedly. “You gotta have sex.” 

All of the color drained from your face. Even though you knew that was what he meant, it was still a lot to take in (no pun intended). You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to force your brain to work, but all of the blood seemed to be rerouted to other parts of your body. 

The feelings that ran over you made you realize you were feeling extreme sensations of being turned on. This went far above any other time you had felt this way—thinking about it almost made it worse. 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. When you peeled back your eyelids, you were met with his green gaze. You had never seen his eyes so green before—and in the hue of the motel bedside lamps, you spotted speckles of gold and brown. You had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered over the word. “So what now? Just try to let it pass?”

Dean cleared his throat and broke away from your stare, his tongue darted out over his bottom lip again. God dammit, if he doesn’t put that tongue away… You tried not to squirm standing there in your jeans and a tank top. “Uh, actually, Sammy said if you don’t…take care of it,” he waved his hand in front of himself in a circular motion. “It uh, it can be fatal.” 

“I’m sorry, come again?” You blinked once, then twice. 

“Yeah, uh, you gotta take care of it,” he brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck again. You noticed the way his bicep flexed and tugged at the flannel that covered his arm. The heat in your parties made you think they may actually catch on fire. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you groaned and turned to move. The only thing that seemed to bring you any kind of relief was pacing. The friction your jeans caused between your legs was incredible. “What if…” you hesitated as you processed. “What if I try to ‘take care of it’ myself?” You used air quotes and looked back at him. 

He seemed to process for a second. “I mean, maybe? I don’t have any idea…” the tension in the room was so awkward. But the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to look at Dean and try to not jump his bones. 

“Okay, go to the bathroom…do not come out, you hear me?” You instructed firmly. Dean grabbed his phone and nodded. 

“I’ll text Sammy and see if he’s found anything else,” he mumbled and hurried to the bathroom before he closed the door. You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw him blush—and Dean Winchester never blushed. 

By the time you heard the door click closed, your fingers worked the button on your jeans. As soon as the clasp was freed, you shimmied them down your thighs and kicked them off to the side. You decided to leave your underwear and tank top on, fully aware of the man just on the other side of the bathroom door. 

As you dropped down on the bed and sat up against the headboard, your knees parted automatically. The heat that escaped between your legs was so intense that the cool air made you gasp. You closed your eyes as your hand snuck under the band of your black panties. The only thing you could see was Dean…his chiseled jaw, the way it tightened when he was mad, or frustrated or deep in thought; the rough stubble scattered across his lower face and chin; the way his eyes bore into you every time he looked your way. These weren’t new feelings, just feelings you had been able to avoid for so long. Now that the sex pollen had taken over, all bets were off. 

Your index finger circled your clit. You tried to be quiet, truly. This situation was awkward enough and you knew the doors in this motel were practically cardboard and didn’t contain the sound. But the moans still fell from your lips hastily. You couldn’t stop them once you started. You dipped your fingers down and couldn’t believe the wetness there; the feeling was overwhelming. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut once more, envisioning the god of a man on the other side of the door. And then it happened. “Ugh, Dean,” his name rolled off of your lips dripped in absolute bliss. 

“Uh, you okay in there, sweetheart?” Fuck. He had heard it. The blush rising even stronger in your cheeks literally burned your face. Tears you hadn’t realized had pooled in your eyes blurred your vision. 

“God dammit,” you groaned. No matter how hard you tried, you knew this wasn’t working. “I’m uh, I’m fine, Dean.” You hoped it would be enough to appease him. 

“Listen, uh, Sammy just wrote me back. He said it’s not gonna work…you, uh, taking care of it yourself,” he cleared his throat twice. Oh awesome, you thought to yourself. Both of the Winchesters know I’m trying to masturbate this spell away… You knew what that meant. Before your brain could process, you heard him again. “You decent? I’m comin’ in.” 

You practically squealed and clawed at the comforter to cover yourself. The door to the bathroom creaked open and Dean hesitantly peered around it. By the time he made it into the room, you were mostly covered but your right leg had slipped out under the comforter and Dean caught a glimpse of skin from your foot all the way up to where your underwear sat above your hip. 

Your eyes connected and you noticed his jaw tightened. But this time, it wasn’t because he was mad or frustrated…maybe in deep thought, but something felt different; something felt darker than that. 

“It’s not working,” you murmured, your chest still heaved with each heavy breath you took. Your fingers gripped the comforter so tightly at your chest, your knuckles were white. 

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice somehow sounded deeper than it had moments before. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, or maybe it was the sex pollen. But either way, it made your body tremble. 

You followed Dean’s gaze to your leg—he absolutely saw the tremble. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this weird,” he rubbed a hand down his face again. The way his mouth dropped open made the heat rise even more. “But you can’t fix this by yourself.” You knew he was hesitating; hesitating to take it further. You wondered if it was because he didn’t want it, maybe he didn’t want you. 

“Help me fix this,” the tears blurred at your eyes again. “Dean, I’m begging you. Everything is on fire. My body literally feels like I’m going to combust.” You hated that your voice cracked, but you were truly starting to freak out. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t wanna do…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean nervously chuckled as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t want you to do something just because you have to…” his voice trailed off as his eyes studied you. Realization set in that Dean wasn’t able to hide his attraction or interest in that moment. His jeans had tightened quite a bit in his groin, revealing a bulge that made you practically pant.

“I need you, Dean. But I also want you,” you practically drooled at this point. “I want you so, so bad.”

Dean’s hands moved to unbutton the buttons to his flannel quickly—you scrambled out from underneath the comforter to where he stood at the end of the bed on your knees to help him with the rest. You gave up after the second button and pulled the two sides harshly apart, sending buttons flying to bounce onto the multicolored carpet below. 

“Christ,” he breathed as he moved to undo the metal button on his jeans. Instantly, his hands cupped your cheeks. He paused for only a moment. After one more look into your eyes to make sure this was okay, you met in the middle as your lips crashed against one another. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” the words rolled off of your lips like it was nothing—but it was so much more than nothing. It was something you hadn’t meant to say, but the sex pollen haze made your filter dissipate. Your lips pulled apart with a pop and your eyes found his. 

“God, me too,” he almost growled as he toppled you back onto the bed once more. Dean was on top of you, your legs parted automatically. He held himself up with one arm and kissed you in a way you had never been kissed before. 

“Dean, I need you to touch me. Please,” the need in your voice was mixed with begging at this point. “Everything is on fire.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” his words drawled together, intoxicated with lust. The hand that wasn’t supporting his body weight trailed down your side. He pulled back and sat on his knees, pulling you with him so you were sitting up. His fingers grasped the hem of your tank top and pulled it up and over your head in one swift motion. He reached behind you and masterfully unclasped your black bra. As soon as it fell away, the cool air from the room bit at your already hardened nipples, causing you to hiss out loud. 

Just as quickly as he pulled you up, he pushed you gently back to the bed on your back as he settled between your legs once more. 

“You’re so god damn beautiful,” he murmured as his lips connected with your neck. He planted hasty wet kisses from just below your ear lobe, down your collarbone to the top of your breasts. 

“Dean,” your hips writhed against him. You needed more. 

“I know, baby,” he breathed as his hand finally began to trace down your side, his fingertips left goosebumps on their way until they reached your hip bone. He pulled the material of your underwear until they slid off of your hips. He pulled until they were down near your feet where you could kick them off. 

His fingertips trailed to your center and circled your clit just as you had done moments before. His index finger slipped easily inside of you before he decided to add his middle finger to the mix. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, your head tilted backward so your neck was exposed. Dean took the opportunity happily, his lips sucked and kissed every inch of skin there as he pumped his fingers into you. “Dean, please.” You were doing a lot of begging, but you literally couldn’t help it. You felt like you would implode if he didn’t take you right then and there. 

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he murmured against the flesh of your neck.

“I don’t really have time for patience,” you groaned. Dean pulled back for a moment, almost as if he had forgotten this was initiated from the sex pollen to begin with. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed your naked body, his jaw tightened. He quickly pulled off his flannel, within seconds his fingers pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. Next up was his jeans, and then his boxers. 

Your body squirmed at the sight–he was stunning. Your eyes trailed down his biceps to his forearms–down his chest, to the delicious V and then…

Your breath got caught in the back of your throat, but before you could gasp for air, his lips were back on you again and you felt his hardness against your thigh. “I don’t have a condom…” he grumbled as his head dropped into the crook of your neck.

“Birth control, Dean,” you mumbled against his hair. His lips found yours again, moving against them as if his life depended on it–and, well, yours sort of did. He pulled back for a moment and found your eyes, as if he was asking if you were sure about this. You knew there was no going back at this point, so you raised your head to capture his lips in yours again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth gently, which elicited a moan from him.

And then in a second, you felt him enter you. It could have been the sex pollen, but you didn’t think so. The feeling was the most incredible sensation you had ever felt. The way your body fit against his was something you could have never imagined—even in the nights you had drifted off to sleep thinking about what this might feel like. 

He moved slowly at first; too slowly to appease the effects of the damn sex pollen. Your hips rose to meet his and you wrapped your legs around his waist, linking your feet behind him at your ankles. He obliged, and angled his body in a way that you could feel absolutely every inch of him inside of you. 

“God damn, you feel so good,” he groaned as he pressed his forehead to yours. You had never felt so close to someone in your entire life, and you prayed it wasn’t just another symptom of the pollen. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” you moaned as he reached down with the arm that wasn’t supporting his weight and pulled your leg behind your knee so it rested in the crook of his elbow. “Jesus, Dean.” You bit down on your lower lip so hard you thought you tasted blood for a second. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered in that moment. 

He rocked against you so hard, the headboard bounced off of the thin wall of the motel room—the picture that hung above you rattled. Nothing mattered. 

Dean brought his lips hastily to your ear and kissed just below it before he whispered, “I want you to touch yourself, sweetheart. Let yourself go.” You shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your earlobe and the words he whispered huskily. You could hardly take it. 

Your release had already started to build—which wasn’t too surprising, considering how turned on you were to begin with. You snaked your fingers down between your bodies, the feeling of his pelvis crashing against yours sent another wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

You began to circle your clit with your fingertip as he secured your leg in the crook of his arm, his bicep flexed tightly. The sensation was overwhelming and you found yourself practically babbling moans and words strung together. “Fuck, Dean. Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” that elicited another chuckle from his lips but didn’t disrupt his movements as he plummeted into you. It felt like he was breaking through your cervix at this point. 

“Let yourself go,” he could feel your muscles beginning to twitch around him. His words tossed you over the edge. “Take what you need, sweetheart.” 

That was it. You felt like your release was practically boiling as it shook you to your core. You saw flashes of color, and your ears were ringing. Dean moved through it for you as you rode the wave. You vaguely heard yourself yell out his name as everything crashed around you. 

“You okay? You want me to stop?” He almost winced as his hips urged him to move but he wanted to respect the fact that the spell you were under had most likely dissipated now. 

“Don’t stop,” you hurriedly told him as you rocked your hips against him once more. “Your turn.” You leaned up to connect your lips to a sweet spot on his neck, your tongue ran over his stubble and nipped gently which elicited a groan from the back of his throat. 

“God damn,” he growled as his pace quickened again. Your muscles still twitched from your orgasm, you thought it might roll into a second wave—which would have been a first for you. 

After a few more thrusts from Dean, he practically collapsed on your chest. Your fingertips found his back, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You dug your nails gently as you drew small smoothing circles upon his skin. After a moment, he rolled so he was on his back just beside you. 

“That was magical,” your words practically slurred together as the room was filled with heavy breathing from both you and Dean—your chests rose and fell with each breath. 

Dean’s eyes were sealed shut, but you saw the grin that pulled at his lips and he chuckled. 

“You sure that’s not the sex pollen talkin’?” He drawled, his words etched together as well—a combination of exhaustion and post-sex effects. 

You gently bit at your bottom lip and glanced at him from your side of the bed. His eyes were still shut lazily, a slick layer of sweat glistened in the dim light of the motel. Maybe it was still sex pollen remnants, maybe not—but something gave you a sense of courage you had never had before. You leaned over his body and inched towards his face. “Guess we’ll just have to let round two decide…”

His eyes shot open but his grin stretched wider so you could see his bright white smile. His gaze trailed from your eyes to your lips. Just before he leaned up to press his lips to yours, he said, “Guess we will, won’t we?” 

And for the first time in your entire life—you were thankful for witches.

---------

A/N: Eek! I always get nervous posting ~smut~, but here we are! I love hearing what you think, so please don't be afraid to comment! Even if it's something I could work on for next time. Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @nelachu2423 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester ff

[aalyssah]

A Little Talk

Pairing: MJF x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1,318

Summary: You go to work sick, after Tony threatens to fire you, but Max doesn’t let that slide one bit.

A/N: Maxy Waxy defending us against TK. How cute. Hope You Enjoy!

The moment you woke up, you knew you were sick. The way you felt hot, but also cold at the same time didn't go unnoticed. As well as the fact you could barely breathe because of your nostrils being stuffed.

You wanted to stay home, but knowing Tony, he would tell you to come to work unless it was an emergency. Plus, you have a match against Toni Storm for her title in Rampage. Your first title shot after 2 years of working with AEW and you weren’t gonna let this go.

But still you tested your luck, calling Tony’s number. “Hello Y/n, what can I do for you?” You opened your mouth to speak, but a sneeze came out. “Yeah, I’m not feeling so well. Do you think I can stay home, and you can reschedule my match?”

You could hear Tony taking a deep breath. “Are you serious? We planned this match for weeks! All this drama just for you to call out at the last minute? No, you can’t have the day off, you are to come to this arena and we will have a talk.” Before you could argue back, he hung up.

You groggily got out of bed and got ready before driving to the arena. You walked down the halls with your bags, nervous for what’s to come. You knocked on the door, revealing him.

You took a seat, waiting for him to speak. “So what’s this sick mess? Did you get checked out.” You shook your head. “No, but I don’t feel good. I think I’m sick, probably a cold.” Tony looked at you up and down, taking in your disheveled form. “Well I can’t reschedule anything, so you’re gonna have to go out there and fight.”

You wanted to protest, you wanted to argue back and say no, and that’s exactly what you did. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m not going out there. I don’t want to risk getting other people sick.” Tony stood up, slamming his hand on his desk. “No, you will go out there and fight! I don’t care about how you feel and if you say otherwise, I will fire you!”

You jumped at his booming voice, wiping your nose. “Yes sir.” You quickly exited his office, walking down the hall. You stood there against the wall, breathing heavy. You hate when people yell at you. Just then, the sound of people walking by caught your attention.

“Wow, look at that boys. It’s Y/n.” You rolled your eyes at the sound of Sammy’s voice, along with Jake Hager. “I don’t have time for y’all.” You tried to walk away, but Jake grabbed your wrist. “Awe, don’t go now. Stay a little, yeah?”

You harshly snatched your wrist out his hold. “Don’t touch me.” Sammy faked pouted. “Why are you so snappy? Are you on your period, or did Max break up with you.” You felt a hurt at Sammy’s question. “Aye dipshits, get away from my girl and go back to your Daddy, Jericho.” The sound of Max’s voice put a smile on your face.

Sammy and Jake left, not wanting to deal with Max. You turned around and looked at him. “God you look awful.” A frown formed on your face at his statement. “Well thanks for the ‘compliment’.” Sarcasm was laced in your voice as you let out a breath.

Max began to ramble about his upcoming match against Adam Cole, but mid sentence you let out a sneeze. He froze, looking at you. “You okay?” You nodded your head, letting him continue, but before he could say 5 words, you were put in a coughing fit.

Your throat was hurting with how hard you were coughing. You fanned yourself, feeling hot, but you had goosebumps on your body. Max let out a scoff. “How did you even get sick? You look ugly, come here." He held a hand out, dragging you to his locker room.

He sat you down on the couch, taking his suit jacket off and placing it on your body. “Rest, take a nap or something, and I’ll go get some soup.” As he walked to the door, you grabbed his hand. “No, I can’t sleep. I have a match against Toni for her title, and if I don’t go out there I’ll-”

Max cut off your rambling. “Woah, calm down, babe. You’ll be alright, I’m just gonna get some soup and tell TK you can’t wrestle.” Your eyes grew wide in somewhat fear. “No don’t, he’ll fire me!” Max froze in his spot, looking at you. “Like hell he will.” Max then left the room, leaving you worried.

Your leg bounced as you bit your nails, waiting for him. Max came through the door with a bowl, steaming with smoke. “Here, eat this.” He handed you the bowl and watched as you took a spoon full of juice and chicken.

“Mm, this is good. Thank you, but I have to talk to Tony.” You couldn’t even set the bowl down when Max stopped you. “Y/n, I swear if you put that bowl down, I’ll fire you myself. Don’t worry about him, I’m gonna have a talk with him. Everything will be fine.”

He ushered you to eat and stood up. “Don’t leave this locker room.” His stern voice had you nodding your head. Max walked down the halls. With a mad expression on his face. How dare Tony threaten to fire you?

He didn’t even knock when he got to his office, busting down the door. “What the hell?” Tony mumbled under his breath, attention snapping towards Max. “Maxwell, it’s good to see-”

Max stopped Tony’s happy greetings. “Don’t act all nice now. What’s all this about you saying you were gonna fire my girl?” Tony straightened up in his chair, finally realizing Max’s anger. “Yes I did say that. She’s trying to call out on the day to an important match and I can’t have that.” Max was taken back at how harsh Tony sounded.

“Well what I can’t have is my girlfriend putting her health on the line while sick all because her dick of a boss wants money.” Tony felt anger rise in his body. “Don’t talk to me like that! Y/n needs to stop making excuses and bust her ass out there like everyone else.”

Max chuckled darkly, as Tony insulted you. In a flash Max had hold of Tony’s shirt collar, pulling him close to his face.

“Don’t ever talk about Y/n like that. If you want to fire her you’re gonna have to fire me and let’s be honest. You’re NOTHING without me. I am the top guy of this company and we all know that when I left the first time.”

Tony gulped in fear, from the grip Max had on him and the thought of him leaving the company. He shakily held his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, we can talk about this.” Max glared at him. “No, there's nothing to talk about. Either you reschedule the match or we’re leaving.”

Tony escaped from Max’s grip pulling out his booking notepad. “L-let’s see, does next week sound good?” Max stayed silent, but nodded his head before walking out. Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he had. Max proudly walked back to the locker room, seeing you halfway asleep.

“Good news, babe. Your match is next week.” You sat up, eyeing him suspiciously. “What did you do?” Max held his hands up. “Don’t worry about that, just know you’re not getting fired and your match is next week.” He found a spot beside you, pulling you in his arms.

You could feel sleep overtaking you, slowly closing your eyes. “I love you.” A blush formed on Max’s cheeks. “Love you too.”

All it took was a little talk for you to keep your job.

#mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf fluff #mjf imagine #mjf x reader #mjf smut #mjf fanfiction #mjf aew #aew fluff #wrestling fluff

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

me again. sneaking. creeping. crawling. sun time. (this is totallyyyy not sammyyyy)

Wally Darling x Shy!Reader? :grins: Romantical, again, because they're wee little simps, and i am merely the vessel of their queerness.

Either properly gay together, or crushes like the last one- idm either >:) They should bake together, tho <33 Maybe Wally walked in on Y/N making treats for him and decided to help :melty:,,

God, you’re gay!!! Gay gay gay!!!! I cannot BELIEVE I have such a homosexual on my blog (hi again Sammy!! Gives you a big fat kiss! /p) !!!!! /j

Surprise Visit with a side of, ah, Flour.

Wally Darling x GN!Shy!Reader

Drabble format, established romantic relationship!

Flour.

Flour was everywhere.

Heaving a weary sigh, you’d idly pat your hands off on your pants— a half-baked (haha!) thought as the powder smeared onto those, too. But your hands were clean, that’s all you cared about as you overlooked the mess with a sigh.

Youuu.. had been trying to bake some goodies, as a gift for a certain someone! But goodness, you did not expect the flour bag to be as heavy as it was. Or for the bag itself to be so slippery and.. ohhh dear.. Pursing you lips as you looked over the mess, you’d soon give a sneeze— before wiping your nose. Dreadful, dreadful flour.. With a sigh, you’d turn to go and grab your broom— before nearly jumping out of your skin.

Wally. Your beloved partner. Standing there. Silent. How long had he been there?? What??? How did he get in? Why does he keep doing this???

Upon your startled squeak, his expression would soften into slight concern— before he gave his soft, recognizable laugh.

“Are.. you okay, over there, sweet..heart? You look a bit.. uhm..” He’d click his tongue. “.. floured. Ha ha ha!”

Heaving a few breathes to calm yourself, you’d soon sputter out a laugh— brushing at the flour coating your face, and your chest, and your legs.. Your cheeks quickly warmed up, partially due to just.. embarrassment. How much of that had he seen?? Ohh, goodness.. Instead, though, at your lack of proper reply, he’d gently grab one of your flour covered hands between his own. He’d blow on it— both to.. get rid of some of the flour, and to make a small joke out of it, before planting a small kiss to your palm.

“Do.. you want.. help.. cleaning this.. up?”

You wanted to say no, but— aaagh,.. the mess was a bit overwhelming, but— ah!! Regardless, he seemed to catch on. Gently pulling you down by your shoulder, he’d pepper a small kiss to your flour-covered-cheek.. before giving a small sneeze. It made you give a soft laugh, and his eyes seemed to grow a bit larger. Even though your cheeks burned in embarrassment, he just couldn’t help but find it cute.

“Go.. change clothes.. I can.. start down here..”

You’d simply just nod, scampering off to go do as such. And, once you had, you’d return—.. only to learn Wally wasn’t very good with flour, either. You walked in to him on his knees, gently brushing puffs of it into a dustpan— which.. wasn’t very effective, as it only fluffed up into the air. But he looked so focused, eyes squinted a bit as he kept trying. You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out of you, causing him to slowly look up and tilt his head.

“.. What’s funny?”

“You are!” You spoke softly, laughing even softer as a hand lifted to cover your mouth. “That.. that isn’t- how you clean flour.. at least not that much..”

“Oh!”

With that, he’d fall silent, seeming to look down at the flour.. intently. In the next moment, just as you blinked, you saw a whole tuft of the flour disappear— followed by.. a scrunched up expression on Wally’s face.

Did he..?-

“Don’t— don’t eat it??” You laughed again, softly, soon beginning to shuffle up beside him. He just smiled at you, despite still having that scrunched up expression— the expression of a man with a mouthful (or.. eyeful..?) of flour. “Here, just..”

From there, you gently took the dustpan and took care of cleaning up the rest— not trying to chip away at it like a flour avalanche, unlike someone. Wally, meanwhile, simply was crouched beside you, watching your movements with cat-like eyes. To him, you were just nice to watch. He liked how your hands moved— and he also really liked your hands, too.. Maybe that was just the artist in him— you had lovely hands, hands he’d love to draw! And hold!.. But, to be fair, he did also just like you. His gaze gradually shifted from your hands to just.. your face, just admiring you. You felt like you shrank under his gaze— cheeks growing hot, again. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stare, but by goodness— did you suddenly feel on display whenever you did. Not that you minded, especially from him..

Soon, with all the flour cleaned, you’d put away the cleaning supplies as Wally, instead, shuffled up to your counter. He had to cling to the edge of it to look at it, but that’s fine.

“What.. were you.. making?”

He stared at the scattered ingredients, trying to crank his brain together. Chocolate chips, flour,.. he thought he had seen Poppy use those before.. but what for?.. Ahh, baking was not his strong suite..

“Oh— uhm, cookies!” As you spoke, you’d huff a nervous laugh, soon slipping up beside him by the counter.

“Can I help?”

“.. Depends..—“ Rolling your eyes playfully, your hands would slip away from one another— having been fidgeting— to instead be placed on Wally’s shoulders. Your touch was light, hesitant, but he idly curled into it. “—Are- are you- going to keep eating the chocolate chips? Because that isn’t help..”

Watching as his eyes widened, he’d slowly crane his head up to look at you— eyes blown wide.

.. he was puppy dog eyeing you.

“Perhaps..”

You gave a soft laugh at his response, and he smiled. He liked making you laugh. It was a very pleasant sound, one he’d gladly ramble about to anyone who’d listen.

“Okay, well, don’t— please..” Humming softly, not angry, you’d sloooowly push the bowl of chocolate chips out of his sight. Not before he blinked and ate one last extra one. For this, you shot him a playful glare.

"What? I did.. nothing.." "Mm, sure.."

Smiling, you soon began to grab the flour again— far more wary this time. Wally simply kept you company, smiling to himself as he.. watched (you).

What a pleasant visit. ♡

SLAMS DOWN THIS PILE OF DOMESTIC BLISS. EAT UP.

I found it a bit hard to fully incorporate the reader being shy beyond just mannerisms with a pre-established relationship, apologies!! I hope it was satisfactory either way, though :]

God I love fluff ggnrrrnrenregg……….

#sighsdeeplyanddreadfully #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home wally darling #domestic bliss my beloved #x reader #reader insert

[zacharyleigh316]

A Friend to Bee

Suptober Prompt: Day 7 - Black Cat | A Friend to Bee | 2.8K | Teen and Up | Read on Ao3 (or below cut)

Dean befriends a neighborhood cat, and, against all odds, it might just bring luck his way...

“Achoo!”

As if on cue, the second Dean stepped over the threshold to his home, he sneezed, groaning at the way his eyes watered as a result. He quickly hung up his coat on the rack, and tossed his keys in the dish on the stand by the door, before fleeing into the kitchen, only to sneeze again. It was only a matter of time, Dean surmised, before his eyes burned, and he’d need to stubbornly fight the urge to rub them, as was his daily routine as of late—that, and popping allergy pills like candy. Pills of which he was currently out of, and thus doomed to suffer, slowly succumbing to his allergies.

Dean took his phone out and shot his brother a text, before setting out to put some leftover chicken and rice in a bowl. And, summoned by the prospect of food, the source of all of Dean’s current health problems—and well-being—jumped up onto the counter, signaled by another sneeze.

“You’re lucky you’re so friggin cute.” He muttered, putting the bowl down in front of the fur ball that could, quite possibly, be the death of him—if he couldn’t somehow find a way to manage his cat allergy.

It hadn’t been that long since they first encountered each other, Dean and his hairy, four-legged visitor—be it a miraculous act of fate or what have you—but it sure felt like forever, seeing as Dean hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Two weeks ago, on Dean’s way back home, he encountered the most unusual pair of blue eyes, that, upon further inspection, belonged to an even more unusually mannered black cat, perched perfectly poised atop the front steps to his home. He recalled how the eyes seemed to glow then, a trick of the lights Dean’s sure, but they drew him in nevertheless. Since then the cat has, beyond any feasible reason Dean could see, stuck around. Enough so that yes, he’s even begun to feed and water the damn thing—despite said allergy.

The little rascal didn’t seem too pressed to leave any time soon, and you could say that he even, perhaps, got used to having it around—not that he’d tell anyone that. He wasn’t sure who exactly owned his new friend, just that it had to be someone in the neighborhood, but sincerely hoped they wouldn’t mind how often he spoiled the guy’s pet.

Dean’s phone buzzed from where he left it on the countertop, and pulled himself from his reverie, reading the reply from his brother. 

<< hey sammy, were you able to pick me up some more of those allergy meds?

>> Yeah, they should be in the bathroom.

And then, a few seconds later, came another.

>> You know, you never told me why you needed them?

<< nunya

>> What?

<< sorry, let me rephrase that

<< nunya business

<< Wow, really mature Dean. I didn’t have to get them for you, but it sounded urgent, so I did.

<< The least you could do is tell me why. Or even how you ran out of the other bottle so quickly.

Dean sighed and looked over to the cat, who was now pinning him with its starling azure gaze, apparently finding him more interesting than finishing off the bowl of food.

“I dunno, what do you think? Should I tell Sam?” He asked, not really understanding why he thought the cat would answer, but directing the question toward it anyway.

Predictably, it just sat there and blinked at him.

Dean sighed again, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell his brother.

<< I maybe sorta got a cat?

>> You WHAT?!

>> Dean, you’re allergic to cats

<< uh yeah, Sammy, that’s why I needed the allergy meds duh

Dean let out a groan and pressed his forehead to the cool countertop, as his phone began to ring, Sam’s caller ID posted across the screen. He let it ring a few times before picking up.

“Heya brother-o-mine, shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on lunch break right now actually, Dean,” Sam whispered harshly into the receiver, straight to business as always, “what’s this about you getting a cat?”

“Well, it’s not technically mine. It just showed up one day, and won’t leave.”

“And you didn’t think to call authorities?”

“Authorities?” Dean snorted. “What am I going to do, Sam, get it arrested?” 

Dean could hear the eye roll through the phone. “I mean animal control, Dean. Or maybe even a vet?”

“Course I thought about doing that…”

“You can’t just steal a cat, it could belong to somebody. It could have a microchip or something. Maybe its owner is looking for it.” Sam sighed, and now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not stupid, okay? ‘Sides, I didn’t steal it. It just showed up, and never left. I mean, the little guy comes and goes, but it always comes back and ends up staying for a few hours, before disappearing again.” He shrugged, despite his brother being unable to see it.

As if knowing it was being talked about, it padded over to Dean, and head butted the palm of his hand. Dean smiled, and ran his hand down the creature’s back, before letting out another sneeze.

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real healthy arrangement you’ve got there, Dean. Why do you even let it inside?” 

“That’s the strange thing, Sammy. I didn’t. It showed up on my doorstep, but I just let it be, and went inside. Don’t ask me how, but the damn thing is smart or something, and lets itself in. And out.”

“Uh-huh…” Sam trailed off, sounding skeptical.

Dean wouldn’t believe it either if he hadn’t witnessed it time and time again.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds crazy, but the cat is a friggin weirdo. I’ve tried to keep it out, but it always finds a way. Hence why now I just…let it do its thing.”

“Okay, well, even if what you’re saying is true, Dean, this isn’t sustainable. You need to find its owner, and tell them about their cat.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now I’m serious, Dean. You can’t just keep going through allergy meds just because the cat likes to loiter.”

“Sure thing, whatever you say, mom. Don’t get your panties all in a twist, Samantha. I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean it, Dean.”

“And I promise, I’ll take care of it. Now get back to work, slacker. Don’t spend all of your lunch break talking to your big brother.” 

“Alright. Talk to you later. Love you, jerk.”

“You too. Love you, bitch.”

They hung up, and Dean put his phone back down onto the counter, turning his attention back toward the adorable, furry interloper, who was still staring unblinkingly at him.

“That was my baby brother, Sammy. He’s this big shot lawyer, and, don’t tell him this, but I’m a pretty proud big brother.” 

The cat meowed and tilted its head to the side, earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

“Can’t have his head grow bigger than it already is, y’know? Don’t know what’s in the water these days, but the kid’s huge, and I mean humongous.” He joked, shaking his head fondly.

“Anyway, Sam’s right. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but you should probably get back to your owner, yeah? Got one of those, don’t you?”

Again the cat meowed, but Dean was, unfortunately, sorely lacking in the knowledge department for ‘how to translate cat language’. He watched as it went back to finish the food he’d set out, and chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly. 

“Yeah, I’d be bored of me too.” 

Letting the cat go about its business Dean pulled away from the kitchen island and sauntered into the bathroom. He figured that, in the meantime—or at least until he located the cat’s owner—it’d be wise to take some meds while it was here. Dean was rather fond of breathing, thank you very much. And the, however temporary, relief of itchiness was an additional perk. 

It was some time later that afternoon, Dean sat on the couch with the fur ball curled in his lap, when his phone buzzed with a text message. He leaned over to put his half finished beer down on the coffee table, and exchanged it for the phone, reading the text from Sam.

>> Have you tried following the cat when it leaves? Maybe you can do that.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, and looked down at the cat. He hadn’t tried that, no, but it wasn’t a bad idea actually. He’d have to try that next, though, if anybody in the neighborhood caught him following some dude’s cat to said dude’s house, he didn’t want to know what they would think of him. He’d rather sooner admit to being an avid fan of chick flicks than deal with the repercussions of being labeled a friggin creepy weirdo.

“What do you say to me taking you home this time?” He asked, raising a brow at the little shit still snoozing in his lap, who had the audacity to peel open one of its eyes, before opening the other and leveling Dean with a look that was oddly reminiscent of one of Sam’s bitch faces. 

Dean opened his mouth, a smart ass remark on the tip of his tongue, when the cat leaped off his lap and quietly padded over to the door, in lieu of responding, or well, as it’s response since it was an animal, and it couldn’t actually talk back—unless you counted the, albeit perfectly timed, meows it gave Dean sometimes.

With a groan, as his thirty-something almost forty-something body protested, he hefted himself off the couch and, against his better judgment, he followed the damn thing out his front door.

Thankfully his four legged guide was waiting for him, and even stopped every so often on the way to wherever the fuck, looking back to check if Dean was still behind, following. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, and that it was actually working. It certainly didn’t ease his anxiety, especially since he was completely in the dark as to where he was even being lead—to his death maybe—but of all panned out, maybe he’d bake his brother a pie or some shit. He’d see how he felt about it later.

Though Dean didn’t have to wait long to find out what his imminent death looked like, because after a ten minute or so walk down the street, the cat made its way up some steps to a rather unassuming house, much like his own—and everyone else’s in the neighborhood. This one was painted a pretty blue, nothing like the eyes of his new friend, but a softer, grayer shade.

On the door, as Dean approached, hung a gorgeous, decorative autumn wreath, with the words “Blessed Bee”—no that was not a typo, and to which Dean assumed was a pun referring to the little plastic bees dispersed within. Though, with an additional quick, cursory glance towards the house, the owner’s aesthetic was growing increasingly apparent, if not for the garden beds of flowers attached to each window sill, and the immaculately groomed bushes (hah) lining the front. 

Even the grass was a lively color, a rich, vibrant green, and neatly trimmed to boot. Dean couldn’t help the whispered, “Damn,” that slipped out in awe. This guy had some serious gardening chops, that Dean couldn’t help but be a little envious of. The only plant he could remember growing was a little succulent he nicked from the local supermarket for him and Sam when they were little, and he couldn’t tell you what became of it. 

The cat meowed, once again with the intention of pulling Dean from his reverie, and he, with a final resolve, reached up and knocked on the door. Though, nothing could have ever prepared him for what happened next.

The front door swung open, revealing possibly the hottest guy Dean has ever seen, looking all soft and—albeit artfully—rumpled, in a sweater and jeans, and holy fuck this dude’s eyes. If he thought the cat’s eye were an unusual shade of blue, they were nothing compared to this man’s, and if Dean didn’t say anything and just stood there frozen, gaping like a fish, being spotted and labeled as a creepy weirdo were the least of his worries.

“Uh…” he said, rather intelligently.

The man didn’t seem to mind, however, and just smiled, reaching down to pick up his cat, who was winding between his legs.

“You must be Bee’s new friend.”

Dean blinked, taking a moment to realize that, son of a bitch, the hot dude just spoke to him, and then another to realize that that is what he sounded like. Deep and gravelly, and god friggin’ dammit Dean was fucked. Truly and utterly fucked.

“Um…what?” 

Wow, nice going Dean, he mentally scolded himself.

As far as first impressions went, this was probably as worst as it could get. He’d spoken a total of three words to this strange (sexy) man, and they only seemed to feed the narrative of what a fool he was. He could flirt with women with the ease of driving his baby, no problem. But put a pretty guy, let alone a pretty guy with gorgeous blue eyes, in front of him and he was rendered speechless, dumber than a sack of potatoes, and probably as useful as one too. He was not good at this.

The man chuckled, and gestured to the cat in his arms, before giving who Dean knew now as Bee chin scritches. 

“My cat. She’s been telling me all about you.” 

“Oh, uh, all good things I hope?”

The man smiled again, and Dean felt his knees grow weak, like they could buckle at any moment, and he’d just melt into a puddle on this guy’s front steps.

“Hm, yes, I must thank you for taking good care of her. She likes it there very much.”

“Haha well, I’m glad? But, uh, about that…” Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. 

“I’m actually allergic to cats.” 

“Oh.” 

Dean inwardly cursed as the man frowned, and furrowed his brows in concern. He looked down at Bee then, and gave her a disapproving stare.

“You didn’t tell me that.” He shook his head, and put her down, ushering her into the house. “Go on, shoo. We’ll discuss this later.”

They both watched her disappear around the corner, before the man turned back to Dean, now looking apologetic.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were allergic. Had I known, I wouldn’t have encouraged Bee to visit so often.”

“Don’t worry about it man, I just, uh, thought you should know, I guess? But really, ‘s’no big deal. I actually enjoyed the company.”

The guy smiled softly, and hummed. “That’s good then. I’m glad. She enjoyed the company too.”

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel.” 

Dean nodded, feeling his cheeks heat the longer they stood there, just staring at one other. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cursed himself again for his eternal awkwardness. 

“R-right, well…” he trailed off, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“Maybe next time you could come over too? If you, um, if you want. Bee knows where it is.”

Castiel beamed, and damn, if that wasn’t easily on Dean’s ever increasing list of favorite things about him.

“I’d like that very much, Dean.”

“Yeah? Awesome.” Dean grinned back, and then even wider when Castiel ducked his head bashfully.

Dean liked him so much already, it was wild. Even more wild that a black cat was beginning to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.

“See ya later, Cas?”

“Yes. And I’ll try to whip up something to help those allergies, if you’d like?”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure why not?” He shrugged with an easy smile, and started to back away, his eyes never leaving Cas’.

“Don’t worry, it’s not of import.” Cas dismissed with a wave of his hand. 

“Until we meet again, Dean.”

“Bye Cas.”

They waved their goodbyes, and Dean finally turned around to make his way back, but only after he may—or may not—have stumbled, earning another, rather amused, chuckle from Cas from behind him.

Dean laughed awkwardly, brushing off his totally-not-a-stumble, you know, as a man does, and raised his hand in one more final parting gesture, before hurrying off back home to bake that pie.

#supernatural #destiel #supernatural fic #destiel ficlet #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #sam winchester #ficlet #spn ficlet #alternate universe #spn au #witch castiel #suptober23 #suptober day 7 #black cat #the cat is cas' familiar #meet cute #getting together #first meeting #fluff #dean winchester's cat allergy #my work

[sneezygiant]

Got a sudden burst of motivation. One shot with two random characters

A little over 1,000 words

Mess and a single bong hit

_________

Sammy was  laying on his couch, eyes closed with a stupid smile on his face. Aimed at nothing. He was chilling with his best friend, Blade. Blade wasn't an average best friend, no- Blade was a mere three inches tall, and lying lazily on the bridge of Sam's nose.

 Sam gave a lazily hum, blinking his eyes open, and stretching out his arms and legs. That led to him sitting up, of course followed by little protests from the borrower. Who had to right himself so he didn't fall right off of sammy's face.

  "Hey! Warning next time? I could have fallen…and I was comfortable-you jerk!" Blade protested as he gave a harsh tug to the piercing implanted into the bridge of Sam's nose. Right between the brows.

 "So wha' if ye fall off me face? Ye got wings, an' tha' cute itty bitty tail." Sam teased with a bit of a laugh, leaning over to pick up a gorgeous,glass bong that had been sitting on the floor.

 Sam held the bong to his lips, fishing around the couch for a lighter, until he found one. A deep breath out, a click of a lighter, a deep breath in, and of course- more protests from the little man sitting atop his nose.

"So what if I have wings? I could have been asleep! You're just careless and I don't want to hit the ground!" Blade whined, poking a pointer finger into Sam's eyebrow.

Sam gave a snort of amusement, before giving a slight huff through his nose, blinking thrice heavily. The snort had pushed the smoke into the back of his nose, starting a teasing tingle.

"Ye snore like a , snf!, Like a black bear in tha' middle o' their wint'ah sleep." Sam tried to tease playfully, much to Blade's annoyance. Blade's tail gave a few upset flicks as the little man crossed his arms. That wasn't helping the tickle in the bigger's nose.

Sam quickly put his bong down, not wishing to break it. He gave a strong sniff, bringing a hand up to knuckle at his nose. Being mindful of the septum piercing he had. Blade started to put his situation together as soon as Sam's eyes got hazy with a distant look, and it wasn't because he was high. It was all confirmed when Same spoke up airily, breath starting to hitch.

"I'm..g-goon…nuuuuuh! Huuuuh!... Gonna…sn-snu…snf! Huuh…uuhH! Gonna sn-snee..snuuuuuh!"

 

Sam had tried to warn, but ended up trailing off as his eyes fluttered closed, chin tilting up. It was too late now, the sneeze was the only thing dominating Sammy's mind. Blade, and where he was sitting, momentarily escaping his mind. 

The 'giant' huffed and puffed, pointed ears tipping down as he lazily brought up a hand to his face.

"Hey hey hey! You can't sneeze now! Stop!" Blade squeaked out in a panic, raising his wing to try to fly away, but it was too late. two more lazy hitches forced themselves out of Sam's throat, leading into a sloppy sneeze right into the palm of his hand. The action flinging Blade into the palm of his hand as well.

"Hiiih….huuUUH. HUH'DHiiih….huuUUH. HUH'DTSHEIIW! "

Fortunately for Blade, the sneeze had been dry. Unfortunately, Blade knew Sam wasn't done. Sam always sneezed in multiple, often odd numbers. Not to mention how mindless Sam could be. For these reasons, Blade tried to scramble out of Sam's hand as fast as he could.

Lady luck was not on Blade's side, as soon as he got the slightest bit up, he was met with a sneeze. A sneeze that misted spray onto the small man. Sam's sneezes were showing signs of becoming wet, and that definitely wasn't good.

"Heeeeh…heeh…snf! Huuuuh…HUUUH! HUH'DTSHIEEEW! snf…! SNF!....hiiih….HIIIIHH?" 

"Turn your head away at least, you mindless beast!" Blade snapped, glaring up at his friend's pre-sneeze face. He knew Sam wasn't listening, consumed by the need to sneeze. Mouth slack, nose scrunched and starting to run, nostrils flaring as Sam took uncertain-itching breaths, eyes squeezed closed.

"HIIiiih! hhhhhh! HIH'TSHEEIIW!! Snnnnfff! Huh….huuuhh….snf…..huuuh…snf…snnNNFF!"

A third sneeze, a wet sneeze, assaulted poor blade. The clear spray plastered his hair to his face, drenching his clothes; making them cling to his small body, as well as sodding his feathered wings. Trapping him until the itch cleared itself from his best friend's sinuses.

Blade just wanted Sam to stop sneezing, but the runny nose, distant look in his eyes, and all the huffing puffing, and sniffling Sam was doing, it wouldn't be likely.

"Snnnf…. Huuuhh…hhh!! Hiiih…." Sam's breath continued to hitch, his eyebrows knitting together as the sneeze momentairly played with him. He then abruptly gave two final sneezes, yet again onto the palm of his hand. Each wetter than the last.

"HIH'TSHIIEEW!!! huuuh….huuuh! hhuUHHHDSHHHEEEW!...snnnnff…guuhhh.." 

The sneezes blasted out of Sam, him giving a sniffle,and a soft groan. Poor Blade was absolutely drenched in clear, warm slime, and he definitely wasn't happy about it. He stood up and purposely shook as much clear mucus as he could off his arms and wings.

The little man scowled up at his bigger friend, who still had a bit of a dazed look in his eyes, but that was just a post sneeze daze. 

Sam also had mess running down his face unashamedly, strands over his parted lil, and drinking down his chin on just a few drops. Not to mention the utter mess in his hand. If he pulled his fingers apart they would have webbed.

"I'mb…snf! I'mb so sorry Blade, tha' smoke…made me nose….itch." Samuel apologized, a sheepish smile on his face, absentmindedly bringing his other hand up so he could swipe at his nose with his sleeve.

" Health." The borrower growled through clenched . "Now put me on the ground, I need a bath." Blade huffed, pointing to the floor to empathize his point.

Samuel gave a soft pout, feeling a tad guilty. He gave a nod and ever so carefully placed his buddy onto the ground, repeating "I'm sorry Blade" then mumbling "realla I am" 

Blade marched to a mousehole, going in them peeking out again, softening just the slightest. "It's fine, you're just an idiot. I don't even know why I'm friends with you." The borrow said in an annoyed huff.

"Now clean yourself up and blow your nose!" Blade then slightly snapped before disappearing completely into the walls, going to go take a bath.

#sneezeblr #sneeze kink #sneezy #sneezygiant #snz #g/tsnez #g/tsnz #macro/micro sneeze #sneeze fic

[caramelfuzz]

Sick S/am W/inch/ester

Hi friends, I’ve finally decided to post one of the S/am fics I’ve been working on. I’m like a decade too late with this fandom, but I can’t help myself lol.

This fic is... it’s weird lol. Pls don’t judge too harshly, I thought up the idea when I was moments from sleep a while ago and have since run with it. This is part 1 because I haven’t quite figured out an ending I’m happy with.

It’s been a hot second since I’ve done any real writing so if anyone has any critiques on the style, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ve done a lot of rping recently and I fear my writing style reflects that. 

It all happens in a flash, literally. One minute, they’re sitting on their beds bouncing theories off of one another, and the next there’s a blinding light and a force sends Dean sprawling backwards. His first thought is that there was an explosive hidden somewhere, given how far the impact has sent him, he’s clear across the room. He takes stock. Nothing feels broken, but his ears are ringing and he’s sore all over. He pushes himself to his feet and does a double take. The room is gigantic or, rather, he’s small. He looks over to Sam’s bed and sees his brother on his feet. The ringing in his ears clears out and he can hear Sam calling his name frantically and cursing to himself. 

“Dean? Damn it, Dean! Where did you go?”

Dean runs over to him, shouting.

“I’m right here, Sam!” 

His brother looks around wildly, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. 

Sam’s eyes widen in horror, 

“Dean, are you invisible? Are you a ghost? Did something vaporize your body?!”

Dean rolls his eyes. 

“Damn it, no Sammy. Look down!”

Sam’s eyes drop to the floor and lock in on Dean, his gigantic younger brother drops to his knees, relief clear on his face. 

“Dean? What the hell happened? You’re like four inches tall!”

The laughter that rolls out of him is relieved, though still genuine. If the roles were reversed, Dean would certainly be laughing at Sam. 

Dean smacks him on the knee and Sam sobers a little. He lowers an open palm to the floor in front of Dean. 

“Sorry, sorry. Here, let me help you onto the bed so we can talk.”

“I don’t need your help to get on the bed, jackass. I’m not a toddler that wants ‘uppies.’”

Sam snorts at this and stands, taking a seat on the edge of the bed again.

“Then be my guest, dude.”

Challenge accepted. Dean starts to scale the comforter and after a few minutes he’s making pretty good progress. That is, until a sudden jerking of the bed threatens to shake his grip loose. He gives a startled yell and looks at Sam accusingly.

“You trying to make me fall and break my neck, bitch?”

Sam looks apologetic, rubbing his nose sheepishly. He looks stricken by the accusation, it’s obvious he didn’t mean to shake the bed like that. Whatever. He focuses on climbing the rest of the way up and sneers at Sam victoriously. His little brother smiles back at him, face genuine. Damn it, Sammy, so damn wholesome. 

“So, what the hell happened to me and how do we fix it?” Sam shrugs, reaching a hand up to rub his nose again. Dean’s eyes narrow. He knows what that little twitchy thing his brother’s nose is doing means. 

“Hh… Hih’XTSSHh!” Sam holds his nose in a death grip to stifle the force of the sneeze, but the action still makes the bed jerk and knocks Dean off his feet. So that’s what happened while he was climbing. 

“Bless you, Sammy.” 

Sam brushes off Dean’s concerned tone and sniffles a few times before speaking. 

“While you were busy climbigg, I did a little research.” 

He motions to the computer perched on his lap. Damn, the explosion must have only affected Dean since the laptop is still in one piece. Maybe it knocked Dean off of the bed because of his decreased size. 

“And? Did you find anything?”

Sam shakes his head apologetically. 

“Ndo,”

He sniffles and clears his throat, then continues.

“No reported cases of people getting shrunk. This must be special just for us.” 

Dean gets the gist. 

“A witch, then?” 

Sam nods. 

“Damn it! Who knows when she planted whatever the hell she planted to cause this? It could be anyone!” 

Dean stomps his foot and Sam just nods sadly, then knuckles his nose. It’s getting pinker, and because of his current height, Dean has a good angle to see that Sam’s nostrils are a little damp. Great, just what he needs. He’s been shrunk and Sammy is coming down with something. 

Ever since their run in with the striga Sam’s immune system has been shot. He gets sick a lot, to the point that Dean’s banned him from interacting with any children at all and has taken to carrying hand sanitizer and tissues on his person. 

He’s gotten a little less strict in the last few months, Sam’s allowed to come with him to interview witnesses again, even shake their hands, as long as he uses a lot of hand sanitizer afterward and doesn’t accept any food or drinks if they’re offered. His brother still gets sick though, even when he wasn’t allowed on interviews he would get sick. 

Dean’s made him start taking vitamins, though he hasn’t made much of an effort to change their diet. It’s hard enough to afford vitamins on their “salary,” buying healthy food on a regular basis is next to impossible. 

Still, it’s only been a month since Sam’s last cold and now Dean has been shrunk and he knows Sam is going to insist they fix it before he rests. 

Dean doesn’t voice his concerns, but he fixes Sam with a worried look. 

“So, a witch. Guess we need to figure out who we managed to piss off. Well, who we managed to piss off more than usual I guess.” 

Dean nods, trying to think back to their last several hunts. If the witch is smart, she’d hex them in a way that wouldn’t go off immediately, so it really could be anyone. Hell, it could be someone they pissed off months ago. 

Sam’s breath hitches and Dean crouches low, gripping onto the blanket as best as he can while he waits for the inevitable. Sam’s a big guy, and his sneezes match his size in their violence no matter how quiet he tries to make them. 

“Heh! Heh’ESSCHH! Hih’SHISHhH!”

He tries to keep them contained, he really does, but Dean is still thrown off balance by the force of them. 

“Bless you, Sammy.” 

Sam fixes him with a weary look. 

“Dond’t say it.” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Why don’t you put that big brain of yours to good use and figure out who the hell did this to me so we can fix it?” 

The and I can take care of you is left unsaid, but both brothers know it’s implied. As much as he complains about being smothered, Dean has seen how terrible Sam feels when he gets sick these days. Damn striga just had to have the last laugh. 

An hour of fruitless research and ten Sammy sneezes later, Dean’s stomach starts to growl. 

“Why don’t you go get us some chow and we can keep researching later?”

He suggests, and Sam nods. His brother gets up and tugs on his jacket, rubbing his knuckles beneath his nose. 

“Get me a burger, Sammy! And some p-oh, maybe no pie actually. It’d just bum me out not to get all the flavors in one bite.”

Sam gives him a half amused, half sympathetic look and walks out the door.

#spn snz #sam snz #sam winchester snz #sick sam #aa writes #spn sickfic #lolll please don't judge too harshly friends #i'm simping so hard for this silly silly man

[inkdemonapologist]

How does everybody sneeze? I’ve had the head cannon of Joey sneezing absurdly loud for a long time lol. Big sneeze energy.

La;skdfj;lasekfj amazing question,

I think, if I were gonna try to rapid-fire assign everyone sneeze traits, I’d lean towards Susie NOT having a dainty sneeze (like, she’s polite and sneezes into her hand, but it’s not a cute little sound like she would probably give Alice), Allison DOES have a dainty sneeze, Sammy sneezes like a cat where it’s more a full twitch with a sound effect full of consonants rather than anything that sounds like “achoo,” Wally does the full cartoony “aaa -aaa- AAAA-CHOOO” that sounds like it’s possibly going to rocket him backwards a couple feet, for Norman the breath building up to the sneeze is louder than the sneeze, but he's weirdly good at not sneezing when he doesn't want to. Thomas sneezes through his nose quietly, Jack has a sneeze that seems too loud for how short he is, and bonus points for Jack making jokes about being “out of blessings” or “oop, that was my last one” if you sneeze more than once and he already said “bless you”. Sammy will do the rapid-three-sneeze-in-a-row thing sometimes and he has never laughed at this joke once but that will not stop Jack.

Joey is more difficult to assign, because we actually have a tiny canon detail: Joey claims in TIOL that he’s very good at fighting off sneezes. So, either he’s telling the truth and this is just a stupid thing to brag about and Joey’s sneezes are pretty subtle, or he’s lying and actually sneezes really get him and they’re very loud and obvious, or he’s telling the truth and is good at delaying a sneeze, but when it happens he will go big if he can’t go home. This is objectively too much thought to put into how Joey sneezes…. I’m going to arbitrarily say the last one seems the most likely to me, Joey’s going to sneeze like a cartoon character or not at all.

#i know you have questions you always do #the canon crew #I GUESS THIS IS THE CANON CREW ITS NOT ANY SPECIFIC AU #very important canon sneeze headcanons

[tomoleary]

Little Sammy Sneeze by Winsor McCay

#winsor mccay #Little Sammy Sneeze #HE JUST SIMPLY COULDN'T STOP IT #HE NEVER KNEW WHEN IT WAS COMING

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

Today (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:

https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks

#15yrsago McCain’s D&D character stats https://www.wired.com/2008/08/john-mccain-cam/

#15yrsago Random House asks young adult writers to contractually promise not to behave immorally https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2008/aug/01/childrenswritersdontmisbeha

#15yrsago Australian Broadcasting Corporation launches Creative Commons community media site https://web.archive.org/web/20080820022723/https://pool.org.au/

#15yrsago Little Sammy Sneeze: Winsor McCay’s anarchic precurson to Little Nemo in Slumberland, now a beautiful, giant book https://memex.craphound.com/2008/08/20/little-sammy-sneeze-winsor-mccays-anarchic-precurson-to-little-nemo-in-slumberland-now-a-beautiful-giant-book/

#10yrsago Groklaw shuts down over fears of email snooping http://www.groklaw.net/article.php?story=20130818120421175

#10yrsago Anonymous funeral director explains the big con behind the industry, coffins, and embalming https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/1kfoy5/comment/cbp748j/

#10yrsago Burning Man drone rules https://web.archive.org/web/20130819020808/http://www.burningman.com/preparation/event_survival/drones.html#.UhF-LtHP1qY

#10yrsago The Expeditioners and the Treasure of Drowned Man’s Canyon https://memex.craphound.com/2013/08/20/the-expeditioners-and-the-treasure-of-drowned-mans-canyon/

#5yrsago Here’s the funniest, most scathing, most informative and most useful talk on AI and security https://www.usenix.org/conference/usenixsecurity18/presentation/mickens

#5yrsago Zephyr Teachout wins the New York Times’s endorsement for Attorney General of New York State https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/19/opinion/zephyr-teachout-new-york-attorney-general.html

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

#pluralistic

[noirangetrois]

9. Dust! (Lots of tempting things to ask about here…)

So, this is the beginning of a SPN fic that I may or may not ever finish, based on the prompt "dust" and the above artifact, a phurba. Here's an excerpt.

“Ugh,” Dean exclaimed after he sneezed for what had to be the twentieth time. “Why is there so much frigging dust?” Castiel looked at him sideways from where he was also cataloging artifacts. “You do realize how long the bunker was abandoned before you found it, don’t you?” “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just gross, is all.” “I’m sure it could be worse,” Cas replied, shrugging. “Obviously,” Dean griped as he got back to work, doing his best to breathe shallowly so as not to inhale more dust. Thing was, this keeping track of magical artifacts, identifying what they were and did according to written records they were able to dig up, organizing them and shit, that was Sammy’s kind of thing. He was the one who went all nerdtastic over the history of some of them, how they connected to different cultures, all of that. All Dean cared was how dangerous they were, and if they could be useful to them. Speaking of which… “Huh,” Dean mused aloud, holding up what looked like a short, three-sided iron blade with a hilt shaped like a person praying and wearing some sort of headpiece. He was pretty sure this matched the description he’d read in a file just a little while ago.  Setting the blade back in the box he’d retrieved it from, Dean stood up from where he’d been crouching. He let out a quiet grunt as his knees popped painfully, grimacing. Cas looked up from what he’d been cataloging, eyebrows raised in question, but Dean just waved him off. He walked over to the stack of files they’d left on a small table in the corner of the room and sifted through them. “Ahah!” he crowed as he found what he was looking for, then began to read. Artifact type: Phurba Origin: Tibet Description: Iron ritual knife that, when used with the proper ritual, can cure disease, perform exorcisms, kill demons, and even affect the weather.

The fic would go on to have Dean use it against <demons/insert monster of the week>, but there would be consequences because he's not the person who's supposed to be using it.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask #angelselene #kj writes; #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #men of letters bunker #phurba

[lirusstories]

Hen is (not) a Vampire - Septic/Egotober Day 22

TW: None(?)

Egotober: Vampire

Septictober: Scary Stories

Word count: 525

Sammi, Jamie and Oliva have a plan to prove whether or not Uncle Hen/ Oliva’s dad is a Vampire or not. 

Their reasoning why he might be:

Awake most of the night

Tired during the day

“Burns Easily”

Sneezed when Chase/Sammi and Jamie’s dad put too much garlic in something

Doesn’t like mirrors.

Has sharp teeth

Always knows when they’re planning something.

Weirdly fast.

Their reasons for why he’s not:

Doesn’t like being awake at night

Doesn’t burst into flames in sunlight

Eats people food

Has a reflection

Still eats garlic.

“Are you sure about this.” Oliva asks with Uncertainty.

“Of course! If he is, it won't destroy him but it will shock him.” Sammi hums, hiding a small cross in her uncles coffee cup before hopping off the counter.

“What what if he’s not a vampire?” Oliva asks, a bit timid.

“Then nothing will happen!” Jamie reassures her, “The humans were the ones with the crosses remember?”

“I still can't, you made me read that, the story was scary.” She grumbles.

Sammi looks like she’s about to say something before whisper shouting. “Oh shoot hide!”

The three of them scramble under the dinner table to watch as Henrik groggily makes his way over to the finished coffee maker, not even bothering to check his cup as he pours it in plainly.

The three kids watch him from under the table with bated breath as he takes a drink out of his way to hot coffee and not even flinch before he gets a weird look on his face and opens his mouth and pulls out the small wooden cross.

Henrik looks at it weirdly before scoffing and tossing it onto the counter and leaving with his cup.

“So what does that mean?” Oliva asks once they’re sure he’s gone.

“That he’s not a vampire I guess.” Jamie hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe we could try garlic next time?” Oliva suggests looking at the pair of twins questionably.

“No he still ate what daddy made him.” Sammi sighs, trying to think of something else.

“Maybe silver?” Jameson suggests but Oliva shakes her head.

“No, the ring ex mom gave him was silver.” Oliva tells them, a bit uncomfortable thinking about her biological mother again. She was alone in the house for days until her dad visited…

Oliva shakes her head out of that thought as Jamie reaches over and grabs her hand comfortingly when he sees her eyes go distant.

“Maybe we could just ask him?” Jamie suggests and Sammi and Oliva look at each other.

“Do you think he’d tell the truth?” Sammi asks, looking back at her brother.

Jamie shrugs, “Worth a shot?”

He looks to Oliva who thinks for a few moments before nodding.

“Alrighty then! Let's go ask him!” Sammi exclaims happily before crawling and the other two follow her out.

“Right now?” Oliva asks, a little nervous.

“No time like the present!” Sammi explains before the three of them are making their way upstairs to Henrik's room.

Henrik sighs fondly, hearing them talk loudly as they make their way upstairs, chuckling to himself. Oh how he loves these kids and their shenanigans.

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#henrik von schneeplstein's kid #jacksepticeye #henrik von schneeplestein #jse fanfic #our stuff #sammi mcloughlin #jamie mcloughlin #oliva mcloughlin #septictober #egotober2023

[deanwinchesterpregnant]

Winchester unconventional healing remedies go! (apple cider vinegar for allergy symptoms, sex for migraines)

omg i LOOOVE this question, ty angie!! sex for migraines is a definite one imo. i attribute this one to dean lol, he claims it works and convinces his dad and brother of it lol.

john seems like the kind of guy that thinks vick's vaporub can solve all. put it on the bottom of your feet to stop a cough. on your knees to stop a headache. buck up, champ. there you go.

for allergies, they're all about exposure therapy. you can get used to anything, right? i think it would be cute if sam had a cat allergy or something, and dean like, goes out and finds a stray cat for them to hang out with. little sammy sneezing a bunch, but both of them so sad to leave the cat behind :( (...and now i made myself sad. woops!)

#spike's box #theangiediary

[charm-03]

GOOD MORNING

"Ah-EtSCHIEW! HIHT’SCHIEW!" came from the other side of the bed.

Sammy was facing the wall, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. But he didn’t move. Based on the sound of the sneezes he knew that Micah was just getting started. And he was right.

"HehHINH Heh HIH HEHTSCHIEW! God dammit…" Micah muttered. Sammy heard him pull a tissue from the box beside him. He blew his nose, and was interrupted by a forceful triple.

Sammy felt that feeling before you went down the track on a roller coaster. He loved when his partner was interrupted by his loud and unstoppable sneezes. It was amazing to see a man who never got flustered by anything get taken down by something so pedestrian.

"Itschiew itschiEW itSCHIEW ITSCHIEW! Fuck…HATSCHIEW! EHTSCHIEW!" the bed shifted. Micah was sitting up now.

It was a position Sammy knew all too well; Micah sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the mattress as he sneezed openly towards the floor, his face twisted into what looked too painful for words, his eyes streaming with allergic tears.

"Hiih HAHHH heetch HAHITSCHIEW! HITSCHIEW! HAHHITSCHIEWWW! Jesus ChriIISHITCHIEW!" Micah groaned.

It was then that Sammy allowed himself to roll over, just in time to see the man he loved dissolve into another rapid fit.

"hehTCHEW! aphitCHEW! ITCHIEW! INTISCHIEEW! Hiiih Hin HinTSCHIEW! Oh my god…"

Sammy pushed himself up, and as Micah dissolved into another enormous fit, he wrapped his arms around him from behind, feeling the force of the sneezes ricochet through his body.

"AtIscHEW! Ah’EtSCHEW! SCHIEWW! Tschuu!"

Sammy kissed Micah’s neck, the muscles contracting beneath his lips. He moved his body so he was sitting backwards beside his love, and could watch his face. His lips were quivering as the next wave built in his flaming red nose, and his cheeks were wet. Sammy moved as close as possible to Micah, and pulled him into his arms.

“Heh hih HaH! Ohh m my g g g hEHH! I h ha hah haveto snee snee snee HEH! HAH hii nihhh ohh!”

Micah’s nostrils flared against Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy swallowed hard. His stomach was flopping, and with every hitching breath it twisted a little bit more.

As Micah pulled in his breath preparing for the next wave, Sammy pulled him tighter so he could feel everything.

“Ahh HEH HIHHeh ach…ACHOOO! ACHOOO! ACK’CHOOO? AHT’CHEE! CHOOCHOOSCHIEWW! AH’TASCHIEW! HEH’TISCHU! AhhCHOO! AHKCHOO! HII HIH Ahh Aht’CHEE! Aht’CHEE! Aht’CHEECHEWCHEE! Ah-EtSCHIEW! HIHT’SCHIEW! Heh hii HEH HEH HEHTSCHIEWWW!” all of the tension left Micah’s body as he finally let all of himself melt into Sammy, who was breathing heavy himself after that fit.

“Bless you my darling…” he whispered breathlessly into Micah’s ear.

A quick breath in, and a weak “Itschiew…” was the reply before Micah let a tired sigh escape him.

Sammy wordlessly grabbed a handful of tissues to help Micah clean himself up, and then get back into bed. Sammy covered him with the blanket and sweetly kissed his forehead before quietly closing the door and going into the bathroom to take a shower and clean himself up.

“Good morning to me…” he laughed as the water hit his body.

•••

❤️thanks for reading lovelies!❤️

#sneeze #sneezes #sneezing #snz #allergic #allergy #sneezefic #snzfic #allergies #sneezing fit #he can’t stop sneezing