#pals is it gay to want to wake up to your right hand man's voice every morning?
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#obey me nightbringer#diavolo#lucifer#i'm missing the heterosexual explanation here#pals is it gay to want to wake up to your right hand man's voice every morning?#fellas
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"Dude, I possessed your professor...
The hairs on your neck prick up as you notice the glassy look in Dr. Bradley's eyes. It was the trademark sign that your old pal, Jimmy, was back from the dead to haunt you. Obviously, your professor was his next host...
"...holy crap! Look at this idiot! I know he's real booksmart or whatever, but he can't be that clever with a jocked up body like this! I'm gonna strip him down and see what he's hiding under this fancy shirt. I know you wanna see your teacher naked, right?"
You stare at the uncharacteristically goofy grin on your professor's face as he oggles his own body. Back when he was alive, Jimmy was the most immature and gayest guy you'd ever met. It feels so wrong to see him wearing the school's most renowned researcher like a costume! Dr. Bradley would be more mortified by behaving this way than by seeing actual paranormal activity.
"Come on man," your old friend speaks with the doctor's sonorous tone, "If I'm a ghost, I at least wanna enjoy the perks. And when else are you gonna get the chance to screw with this straight tight-ass?"
You stare at his body as he lounges back on a desk. It creaks under the weight of the man's hefty muscles. God, his bare chest is practically begging for your attention!
"Come on, bro. Screw me in your professor's body," Dr. Bradley -no, Jimmy- flashes a wicked smile.
Before you can decline, Jimmy assertively throws up one of the man's strong hands, "Maybe I can make this easier on you, dude. I'll raise your grade if you spank me a few times to get started. Hell, if you leave his ass red, I'll even send an email to the dean about how you deserve another scholarship!"
It's time to put an end to this, you think. Jimmy's talking about playing around with this man's career, and you really don't want to get him or yourself in any trouble.
"Alright, then a new tactic," Jimmy sneers, employing the lower, more commanding register of Dr. Bradley's voice, "Fuck him up the ass, or I'll change your grade to an F. We can do it right here, on his desk..."
You stare at your professor's glazed over eyes and his drooling grin. Jimmy wouldn't actually blackmail you, right? This has to be just another one of his careless antics.
"Get up here," Dr. Bradley grins at you, "I want my favorite student to do whatever he wants with my hot-teacher body!"
You shake your head one final time, but you can already feel your defenses breaking down. Exploring your possessed professor is starting to sound more and more like a good idea.
"You know I've been practicing my ghost skills, man?," he continues, "I can jump into these idiots and stay for up to seven days before I need to jump out and stretch my legs again. That means I can be Professor Big-Butt all week!"
"Maybe I'll kick out his wife and kids so you can come over and play house with me. Imagine your professor waking you up ever morning with his mouth on your pole. Imagine him under the dining table slobbering over your feet while you enjoy the dinner he prepared. Dude, imagine hitting a gay bar with this professional stud as your obedient muscle-slut and pimping him out to every guy who walks in. Bro, I'm so down to do whatever you want to see him do!"
You stare at Dr. Bradley in awe, precum soaking into your shorts. Once again, Jimmy's imagination has you drooling with desire. You can't help but squeak out an affirmative response.
"Hell yeah, man!" the professor's voice is unrecognizable with Jimmy's ecstatic glee.
"Now hop up here and destroy this guy's ass! Don't forget; I know about your kink for degrading guys so I want you to really humiliate me!"
In a daze, you unbuckle your belt and climb up behind your professor. A part of you knows this is wrong, but that part of you is buried somewhere deep beneath your primal lust. If Jimmy wants you to degrade and humiliate him, who were you to say no? Besides, you couldn't let Dr. Bradley -Jimmy- give you an F!
"I knew you were my favorite student for a reason," your ghostly friend says, imitating the doctor's direct and authoritative demeanor, "You're more of a man than I could ever be. I knew it from the first time I saw you in class. We locked eyes, and I just knew; all of my achievements, all of my time spent in the gym, everything I had once been proud of; all meant nothing compared to you."
Hearing the professor's heartfelt manifesto was more than enough to get you into the mood. They might not actually be his words, but they were coming from his mouth, and it was more than enough to get you on Jimmy's side. Ideas for using and abusing your tenured professor were already racing across your mind, and thanks to Jimmy, Dr. Bradley is a willing subject.
This next week is going to be a good one...
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Invisible String (14/15)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)
Word Count: 2.4k words
Warning : angst, sad reader, angry reader, dumbass Bucky, Steve being likable for once, smartass Sam, reader finally having some friends, mention of assault, confrontation, drinking, fluff, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca
Unlike you, Bucky remembered everything. He could never forget that you were hurt because of him — tied to a chair for hours while he couldn't save you — crying on the bathroom floor as he held you. The only thing common in all of those instances was him. You had to go through shit because of him, and yet, you still didn't blame him. You wrapped your arm around him as if he wasn't the cause of your pain. It was clear that his past and the baggage that he came with didn’t bother you. In fact, you understood and accepted his trauma and still loved him. You didn't love him despite his baggage. No, you loved him with every bad thing he offered.
Bucky was sure you were delusional. No sane woman would want to be with the man who was responsible for her captivity, yet you snuggled closer towards him the moment this thought occurred in his head. And Bucky loved you more because of that, and he thought he wasn't physically capable of loving you more than he already did. Bucky knew you reciprocated those feelings, it was very obvious that both of you were a goner for the other. Nevertheless, those emotions were not voiced out loud in your relationship yet. And Bucky wanted it to stay that way.
Bucky decided to sneak out of your bed and house before you could wake up. He was aware it was cowardly of him to just leave without giving you an explanation. But if he stayed to explain, you would have asked him to stay, and he didn't have it in himself to tell you no. You were the ray of sunshine in his stormy life and he could never say no to you. You could ask him to get you the sun, and he would get it for you, even after knowing that it would kill him and the humankind in the process. He would still do it.
But what he couldn’t do was refuse you, so he would have to leave you instead.
***
You woke up a bit disoriented, unaware of the surroundings you were in. It took you a minute to process that you were in your own house and not held captive. Once you came back to your senses instinctively you called for Bucky. He held you while you slept the previous night, so he had to be out in the kitchen. When no response came back, you went out to check for him, only to be met with an empty house.
When you tried to contact him, Bucky was distant. He didn’t respond to your texts and your mind was telling you that something was wrong, but you shoved those thoughts sideways, hoping that maybe he was busy with work. But you both went through something traumatic, you needed him to be with you. If he were busy, he could have at least texted you.
Well, if he was going to ignore you, then you wouldn't be one of those people whose life revolved around their partner. You had a book to write and ambitions that didn’t involve him.
Two hours later, when there was no word from him, you stared at the blank screen on your computer. You weren’t unfamiliar with writer's block, but it had been months and you haven't written a single line since the incident in the club involving Rumlow. And now that you were alone with your thoughts, you started doubting everything. Should you have stayed in that corporate 9 to 5 job? You'd have a stable life and a fixed salary. Maybe you could have even got a promotion. Should you have filed a complaint against Rumlow? Bucky wanted you to, he even assured you the cops would be on your side, but you just weren't ready. You realized that by choosing to remain silent, you were sending a predator out in the world. He could do that to other people and you could have stopped it.
A knock on the front door interrupted your train of thoughts and you were grateful for the person on the other side. You assumed it was Bucky, he didn’t need to buzz in because he literally owned the building. Well, it could also be any one of his friends. Sam and Steve also didn't need permission . And the other day when Peter came by to give you your phone (you left it in the club), he didn't buzz in either.
Seeing Wanda, Peter and Pietro on the door was a good change and God, you needed a change or else you'd go mad with self-loathing.
“We brought pizza,” Wanda exclaimed, lifting the bag in her hand to show you.
You didn't say anything, just smiled at them thankfully. You were really delighted they were here. Not only that, but you didn't have many friends here, and you considered your work friends, your only friends. It was nice to see that they saw you as a friend too and not just someone they work with.
“And beers,” Pietro chimed in, raising the carton in his hand.
You looked at Peter before teasing, “Is he even legal, guys?”
Seeing you joke around with them made Wanda happy. Between all the testosterone, she truly needed a female friend, and she was relieved to see you treating them as friends rather than colleagues. And she understood the trauma that must haunt you since your kidnapping. She was an empath and when you didn’t show up at work, she grew worried.
Half an hour later, most of you were on your second beer. Pietro was on his fourth. That man was fast at everything he did. A movie was playing in the background that none of you paid attention to while everyone was settled on your couch. It wasn't a very spacious couch, you were all squashed into it, but it was too comfortable to leave. You were sitting in between Peter and Wanda, while Pietro was situated beside his sister.
You forgot how nice it felt to have friends and bitch about people to them.
“And just like that he was gone. I woke up and he wasn't there,” you told them, “Hasn't been taking my calls either.”
Pietro took a sip of his drink before saying, “What an ass!”
Wanda raised her bottle, nudging all of you to join her, and said, “Fuck men!”
“Amen!” you agreed, Peter and Pietro nodded too.
“You should focus on your book,” Pietro advised, “Bucky is gonna regret if he loses someone like you, babe.”
The book. Your book. You couldn't tell them why you weren't focused on the book. It was still a lot to process, and you were not ready, so you nodded before chanting, “Fuck Bucky!”
***
“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned as he and his husband entered the office.
“Last I checked, I own this place.”
Sam huffed, “I meant why are you here instead of her place, smartass?”
Bucky looked around to avoid the questioning gaze of both Sam and Steve. He hadn’t talked to Steve since the argument they had over you. Of course, they did discuss business as usual, but nothing related to their personal life.
“She doesn't need me,'' Bucky murmured and looked at Steve. “You must be pleased to know that it's over.”
Bewilderment was clear on the faces of both the men because Bucky exhaled loudly before continuing, “I almost got her killed. It would be wise and safe for her to not be with me.”
Steve finally spoke, “Did she say that?”
When his best friend shook his head ‘no’, Steve sighed in exasperation. “You are an idiot.”
“Yeah, well, that's what you wanted, didn't you?” Bucky retorted, “For me to focus on work and not on her.”
“I was clearly wrong, pal,” Steve raised his hand in exasperation as if it was obvious, “And I’m sorry for that.”
“Well, it's over now.”
***
“Before I met Nat. I dated a girl who pretended to be gay,” Wanda scrunched her nose, remembering the awful memory.
“Oh yeah, weird Sallie,” Pietro smiled teasingly, “Did you guys know that when Wanda brought her home, she hit on our dad?”
“No!” Both you and Peter cried out, stupefied at his words.
“Yeah,” Wanda outlined, “And on Pietro too.”
“I mean, Mr. Barnes is not like this,” Peter brought the conversation back to Bucky and you sucked in a heavy breath. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing all of this.”
“Seriously?” you were pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to talk about Bucky. You looked at Wanda and Pietro for support, but they shrugged their shoulders in a manner that said, ‘He's not wrong, though.’
You wanted to go to bed and sleep. But you knew they were right. Bucky would never hurt you intentionally, you knew that. “Do you guys know where he is now?”
***
Since trying to talk some sense into Bucky wasn't working, Sam and Steve retaliated back to talk about business.
“Clint is officially out of here,” Steve reported, “Torturing him would just create more ruckus. Rumlow is behind us because he wants his weapons in the government, and Clint would just be a casualty in all this shit. He has three kids.”
Sam huffed, “We told Laura. Her wrath would be worse for Clint than our fists.”
Bucky didn't say anything and just nodded. Steve could feel something was on Bucky's mind, wrapping his arms to his chest, he raised a brow towards his best friend.
“I’m just tired of all of this,” Bucky said sadly, “Is this what we left Rumlow for, pal? You have a kid at home, Wanda has a wife, I have ma and Bec and I haven't met them in years, in fear of someone following me. And now — Well, now I’ve lost the girl too."
Steve and Sam looked at their friend with sympathy. They knew the toll their work took on all of them. Hell, they had a four-year-old daughter at home, and could barely sleep at night, always terrified of losing their kid because of their job.
Sam was about to ask Bucky to suggest an alternative that would help all of them could to make it out of there and just work on the club and not some shady business. Suddenly, the office door flung open and on purpose, everyone’s hand reached for the gun in their waistband. But in walked you with a beer bottle in your hand and a pizza slice in another.
“JAMES BUCKY BARNES!” You exclaimed, your steps wavering a little as you walked towards him. Oh, and you looked royally pissed.
Instantly, Bucky was on his feet and making his way towards you, to hold you — to be near you. And before you could say anything, he was engulfing his arms around your waist, his head settled at the crane of your neck and you frowned. Okay, You did not expect that. You thought he would ignore you, and you would give him a piece of your mind before leaving.
Sober you would have asked him to have a mature conversation like adults, but tipsy you wanted to flip him off and leave. Your arms hung around your sides awkwardly, trying to understand the situation before finally pushing him away.
“You left me,” you spoke so softly that if Bucky wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard it. “I needed you and you left me alone.”
Bucky’s heart broke at your words. He didn't consider how his rash decision would affect you. You were kidnapped by the person who assaulted you. Fuck, he cursed himself. He was supposed to be protecting you, not hurting you. You sounded so hurt that Bucky wanted to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness. He was so focused on your physical injuries, he did not even realize he was hurting you emotionally.
Steve cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable to present. He interrupted and took his husband’s hand in his, “We’re going to go.”
Before they could leave, you shifted your attention towards Steve and pointed a finger at him. “Why do you hate me?”
Steve stammered, he didn't expect you to put him in a spot like this, but you had a tad more than necessary liquid courage in your system.
“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and you moved your gaze back towards him. Steve took the opportunity and left the room with Sam.
You were on the verge of tears by now — both of you were — Bucky wasn't a man who could voice his feelings, but with you, all of his armor came shattering down. With you — he would tell you his vulnerabilities and fears just so he could let you in. You meant so much to him that the fear of losing you blinded his sense of understanding. He realized that he acted immaturely and by doing so, he almost lost you.
“You hurt me,” Your voice wavered, the traitorous tears made their way down your eyes, and Bucky couldn't see you like that. Instinctively, he stretched his hands to wrap around you, but stopped, “Can I hold you?”
You sniffled and nodded, and Bucky engulfed you flush against his chest. After a while, you snaked your hands around his shoulder too, and a sob broke down from your throat.
He didn't remember how long he held you like this, but after a while, he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He stood before you and then slid one hand up to your cheek. Likewise, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. And then you slowly straddled his waist as you both settled down on the soft sofa. Bucky’s hands fell naturally to your hips to pull you closer.
“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, once your tears suspended. You enveloped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his.
Bucky didn’t know whether you meant it or not. You were pretty drunk. He hoped you did.
“I love you, doll,” he confessed as he kissed the crown of your head. He noticed that you were on the brink of sleep, your breathing even, and you looked so peaceful in his arms.
He felt at ease — calm even with you in his arms and in that moment he decided he was never letting you go no matter what.
TAGS : @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp
Taglist for future stuff.
#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude By Ross Gay Friends, will you bear with me today,
for I have awakened
from a dream in which a robin
made with its shabby wings a kind of veil
behind which it shimmied and stomped something from the south
of Spain, its breast aflare,
looking me dead in the eye
from the branch that grew into my window,
coochie-cooing my chin,
the bird shuffling its little talons left, then right,
while the leaves bristled
against the plaster wall, two of them drifting
onto my blanket while the bird
opened and closed its wings like a matador
giving up on murder,
jutting its beak, turning a circle,
and flashing, again,
the ruddy bombast of its breast
by which I knew upon waking
it was telling me
in no uncertain terms
to bellow forth the tubas and sousaphones,
the whole rusty brass band of gratitude
not quite dormant in my belly—
it said so in a human voice,
“Bellow forth”—
and who among us could ignore such odd
and precise counsel?
Hear ye! hear ye! I am here
to holler that I have hauled tons—by which I don’t mean lots,
I mean tons — of cowshit
and stood ankle deep in swales of maggots
swirling the spent beer grains
the brewery man was good enough to dump off
holding his nose, for they smell very bad,
but make the compost writhe giddy and lick its lips,
twirling dung with my pitchfork
again and again
with hundreds and hundreds of other people,
we dreamt an orchard this way,
furrowing our brows,
and hauling our wheelbarrows,
and sweating through our shirts,
and two years later there was a party
at which trees were sunk into the well-fed earth,
one of which, a liberty apple, after being watered in
was tamped by a baby barefoot
with a bow hanging in her hair
biting her lip in her joyous work
and friends this is the realest place I know,
it makes me squirm like a worm I am so grateful,
you could ride your bike there
or roller skate or catch the bus
there is a fence and a gate twisted by hand,
there is a fig tree taller than you in Indiana,
it will make you gasp.
It might make you want to stay alive even, thank you;
and thank you
for not taking my pal when the engine
of his mind dragged him
to swig fistfuls of Xanax and a bottle or two of booze,
and thank you for taking my father
a few years after his own father went down thank you
mercy, mercy, thank you
for not smoking meth with your mother
oh thank you thank you
for leaving and for coming back,
and thank you for what inside my friends’
love bursts like a throng of roadside goldenrod
gleaming into the world,
likely hauling a shovel with her
like one named Aralee ought,
with hands big as a horse’s,
and who, like one named Aralee ought,
will laugh time to time til the juice
runs from her nose; oh
thank you
for the way a small thing’s wail makes
the milk or what once was milk
in us gather into horses
huckle-buckling across a field;
and thank you, friends, when last spring
the hyacinth bells rang
and the crocuses flaunted
their upturned skirts, and a quiet roved
the beehive which when I entered
were snugged two or three dead
fist-sized clutches of bees between the frames,
almost clinging to one another,
this one’s tiny head pushed
into another’s tiny wing,
one’s forelegs resting on another’s face,
the translucent paper of their wings fluttering
beneath my breath and when
a few dropped to the frames beneath:
honey; and after falling down to cry,
everything’s glacial shine.
And thank you, too. And thanks
for the corduroy couch I have put you on.
Put your feet up. Here’s a light blanket,
a pillow, dear one,
for I can feel this is going to be long.
I can’t stop
my gratitude, which includes, dear reader,
you, for staying here with me,
for moving your lips just so as I speak.
Here is a cup of tea. I have spooned honey into it.
And thank you the tiny bee’s shadow
perusing these words as I write them.
And the way my love talks quietly
when in the hive,
so quietly, in fact, you cannot hear her
but only notice barely her lips moving
in conversation. Thank you what does not scare her
in me, but makes her reach my way. Thank you the love
she is which hurts sometimes. And the time
she misremembered elephants
in one of my poems which, oh, here
they come, garlanded with morning glory and wisteria
blooms, trombones all the way down to the river.
Thank you the quiet
in which the river bends around the elephant’s
solemn trunk, polishing stones, floating
on its gentle back
the flock of geese flying overhead.
And to the quick and gentle flocking
of men to the old lady falling down
on the corner of Fairmount and 18th, holding patiently
with the softest parts of their hands
her cane and purple hat,
gathering for her the contents of her purse
and touching her shoulder and elbow;
thank you the cockeyed court
on which in a half-court 3 vs. 3 we oldheads
made of some runny-nosed kids
a shambles, and the 61-year-old
after flipping a reverse lay-up off a back door cut
from my no-look pass to seal the game
ripped off his shirt and threw punches at the gods
and hollered at the kids to admire the pacemaker’s scar
grinning across his chest; thank you
the glad accordion’s wheeze
in the chest; thank you the bagpipes.
Thank you to the woman barefoot in a gaudy dress
for stopping her car in the middle of the road
and the tractor trailer behind her, and the van behind it,
whisking a turtle off the road.
Thank you god of gaudy.
Thank you paisley panties.
Thank you the organ up my dress.
Thank you the sheer dress you wore kneeling in my dream
at the creek’s edge and the light
swimming through it. The koi kissing
halos into the glassy air.
The room in my mind with the blinds drawn
where we nearly injure each other
crawling into the shawl of the other’s body.
Thank you for saying it plain:
fuck each other dumb.
And you, again, you, for the true kindness
it has been for you to remain awake
with me like this, nodding time to time
and making that noise which I take to mean
yes, or, I understand, or, please go on
but not too long, or, why are you spitting
so much, or, easy Tiger
hands to yourself. I am excitable.
I am sorry. I am grateful.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden.
The sun has made them warm.
I picked them just for you. I promise
I will try to stay on my side of the couch.
And thank you the baggie of dreadlocks I found in a drawer
while washing and folding the clothes of our murdered friend;
the photo in which his arm slung
around the sign to “the trail of silences”; thank you
the way before he died he held
his hands open to us; for coming back
in a waft of incense or in the shape of a boy
in another city looking
from between his mother’s legs,
or disappearing into the stacks after brushing by;
for moseying back in dreams where,
seeing us lost and scared
he put his hand on our shoulders
and pointed us to the temple across town;
and thank you to the man all night long
hosing a mist on his early-bloomed
peach tree so that the hard frost
not waste the crop, the ice
in his beard and the ghosts
lifting from him when the warming sun
told him sleep now; thank you
the ancestor who loved you
before she knew you
by smuggling seeds into her braid for the long
journey, who loved you
before he knew you by putting
a walnut tree in the ground, who loved you
before she knew you by not slaughtering
the land; thank you
who did not bulldoze the ancient grove
of dates and olives,
who sailed his keys into the ocean
and walked softly home; who did not fire, who did not
plunge the head into the toilet, who said stop,
don’t do that; who lifted some broken
someone up; who volunteered
the way a plant birthed of the reseeding plant
is called a volunteer, like the plum tree
that marched beside the raised bed
in my garden, like the arugula that marched
itself between the blueberries,
nary a bayonet, nary an army, nary a nation,
which usage of the word volunteer
familiar to gardeners the wide world
made my pal shout “Oh!” and dance
and plunge his knuckles
into the lush soil before gobbling two strawberries
and digging a song from his guitar
made of wood from a tree someone planted, thank you;
thank you zinnia, and gooseberry, rudbeckia
and pawpaw, Ashmead’s kernel, cockscomb
and scarlet runner, feverfew and lemonbalm;
thank you knitbone and sweetgrass and sunchoke
and false indigo whose petals stammered apart
by bumblebees good lord please give me a minute...
and moonglow and catkin and crookneck
and painted tongue and seedpod and johnny jump-up;
thank you what in us rackets glad
what gladrackets us;
and thank you, too, this knuckleheaded heart, this pelican heart,
this gap-toothed heart flinging open its gaudy maw
to the sky, oh clumsy, oh bumblefucked,
oh giddy, oh dumbstruck,
oh rickshaw, oh goat twisting
its head at me from my peach tree’s highest branch,
balanced impossibly gobbling the last fruit,
its tongue working like an engine,
a lone sweet drop tumbling by some miracle
into my mouth like the smell of someone I’ve loved;
heart like an elephant screaming
at the bones of its dead;
heart like the lady on the bus
dressed head to toe in gold, the sun
shivering her shiny boots, singing
Erykah Badu to herself
leaning her head against the window;
and thank you the way my father one time came back in a dream
by plucking the two cables beneath my chin
like a bass fiddle’s strings
and played me until I woke singing,
no kidding, singing, smiling,
thank you, thank you,
stumbling into the garden where
the Juneberry’s flowers had burst open
like the bells of French horns, the lily
my mother and I planted oozed into the air,
the bazillion ants labored in their earthen workshops
below, the collard greens waved in the wind
like the sails of ships, and the wasps
swam in the mint bloom’s viscous swill;
and you, again you, for hanging tight, dear friend.
I know I can be long-winded sometimes.
I want so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude
over every last thing, including you, which, yes, awkward,
the suds in your ear and armpit, the little sparkling gems
slipping into your eye. Soon it will be over,
which is precisely what the child in my dream said,
holding my hand, pointing at the roiling sea and the sky
hurtling our way like so many buffalo,
who said it’s much worse than we think,
and sooner; to whom I said
no duh child in my dreams, what do you think
this singing and shuddering is,
what this screaming and reaching and dancing
and crying is, other than loving
what every second goes away?
Goodbye, I mean to say.
And thank you. Every day.
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to purgatory and back: chapter 3
1.6k words | read the rest on ao3
Dean woke easily, feeling more rested than he had in a very long time. He looked down to see his own limbs tangled with Cas’ and was immediately reminded of the night before. Cas, moving to comfort him after a nightmare, keeping him warm through what would have normally been an uncomfortably cold night. Dean couldn’t help but take advantage of this brief moment of peace. He snuggled in closer, breathing Cas in. He’s got Cas back, and while they’ve had their ups and downs, he feels like they’re finally in a good place. The old Dean would never have let Cas cuddle up to him like this. The old Dean didn’t know he was in love with his best friend.
Dean felt a swell in his chest at the thought. It terrified him. Cas was his best friend, but he supposed they had always been more than that to each other. ‘Profound bond’, and all that. Ever since he realized his own feelings, he’s been combing through his memories for evidence that Cas felt the same about him. And then yesterday happened. Cas had nodded when Dean leaned in to kiss him. Dean saw it. Maybe when they escaped from Purgatory, he could tell Cas the truth about his feelings. For now, though, he was going to take as much as Cas would give him. And if that meant the only way he would feel Cas on his skin was through a fight or an accidental cuddling session, so be it.
He smiled softly to himself, before realizing – oh, fuck.
Dean was hard. And he was pressing himself against Cas. He attempted to remove himself, but Cas wouldn’t let go. Cas started to move his head, eyes opening slightly. His gaze moved to meet Dean’s, smiling, before his facial expression abruptly changed. Cas’ mouth hung open slightly, his body frozen like he was scared to move. Fuck. Dean was screwed. Cas had obviously noticed his little problem.
No longer concerned about waking Cas, Dean pushed the angel off of him with as much strength as he could manage while they were still very much attached to one another. He stood up, brushing his jeans off awkwardly. Dean coughed before saying, “I’m sorry, man. You know how it is.”
Cas was staring up at Dean from the ground, eyebrows raised in amusement at Dean’s reaction. “I don’t think I do know ‘how it is’, Dean. Could you elaborate?”
Cas was fucking with him. Bastard. “You can’t blame me, dude. That’s the most human contact I’ve had in months.”
“Is that so? What about Benny?”
“Doesn’t count. Benny’s a vampire.”
Cas rolled his eyes before reaching a hand out, requesting that Dean help him up. Dean hesitated, still uncomfortably trying to hide his tented jeans. He eventually decided that his dignity was long gone, so he grabbed Cas’ hand and pulled him off the ground. Their hands lingered for a moment, Cas staring at Dean, intense as always. Dean broke under the pressure, looking away and breaking the contact between them.
Cas seemed to hesitate before saying, “Dean, since we are awake before Benny this morning, we need to discuss something.”
Dean sighed. “If you’re gonna complain to me about Benny again, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“That’s not what this is about, Dean, although I do question your unwavering trust of that vampire,” Cas looked down at the ground before his gaze eventually moved up to scan Dean’s face, “I have some concerns about the portal Benny is taking us to. I don’t know that I will be able to go through it, since I am not a human. I worry it may kill me if I try.”
Dean felt anger well up inside him but pushed it down. He wasn’t letting Cas get away from him. Not again. No matter what it took. He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and held up a hand as though he could stop the conversation from continuing further. “Cas, I’m not leaving you here.”
Cas gave Dean a pointed look. “You may not have a choice, Dean.”
Cas walked around Dean, ending the conversation. Dean turned to stare at him, wondering if he had done something wrong. He didn’t have long to wallow in self-hatred, though, because Benny was waking up. It was time to move again.
-
“What’s going on between you and the angel? Lovers’ spat?” Benny kneeled down next to Dean, who was struggling to build a fire. It rained that day, which meant any potential kindling he could find was soaked to the core and impossible to work with. Frustrated, Dean threw the mess of twigs and rocks to the ground and stood up, staring down at Benny.
“What gives you that idea?”
Benny smirked. “Brother, you wear that heart of yours on your sleeve.”
Dean dropped his head into his hands and let out a groan. “It can’t be a lovers’ spat if you aren’t lovers.”
Benny looked up at him and then reached out to pat the ground. Dean sat down.
“Let me tell you somethin’. I’ve lost someone I care about before and I would give anything to get her back, but I can’t now. You’ve been lookin’ for that guy for about a year now and now you’ve found him. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given like I did.”
Dean tried to speak but nothing came out. He tried again, clearing his throat, and quietly saying, “I can’t lose him again.”
Benny had a look on his face that could almost be described as sympathetic. Dean didn’t know what to do with that. A vampire, sympathetic to him, because he’s in love with his best friend who is a man. Or is inside of a man’s vessel. Does that make Dean gay? Dean shook his head. That’s a problem for another day. Maybe he could ask Sammy about it.
Benny clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Then I think you know what you need to do.”
-
“Hey, Cas. Can we talk?”
Cas was sitting on a tree stump, taking his turn to watch over Dean and Benny as they slept to avoid any more near-death experiences. Dean stood in front of him, fidgeting uncomfortably with the knowledge of what he was about to do.
Sighing, Cas looked up at Dean. “I’m sorry if what I said earlier upset you, Dean. I wanted to be honest with you.”
Dean shook his head. “That’s not what this is about. I… want to be honest with you, too. It’s just really hard for me.”
“About what?” Cas asked innocently, his deep blue eyes cutting right through Dean’s well-crafted façade.
Dean crumpled to his knees, collecting Cas’ hands within his own palms. “Cas. I know you feel what’s happening between us. I know it’s not just me. Losing you for an entire year, not knowing if I’d ever see you again… I realized that I never want to be without you for as long as I live. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I know I want you there with me. I lo- “
“Dean,” Cas cut him off, “We can’t.”
Dean felt his heart drop through his stomach and splatter onto the cold Purgatory ground beneath him. “Cas, I… what?”
Cas looked away, avoiding Dean’s tear-filled gaze. “You should take your shift now. I’m going to lay down for a few hours.”
Not expecting this response, Dean floundered for something to say. “I just spilled my guts to you, and you’re worried about getting some shut-eye? Angels don’t even need sleep.”
Cas merely stood up and looked at Dean sadly before making his way back toward the remnants of smoldering fire.
-
A blue light shone from the top of a nearby cliff. It was almost blinding, but Dean couldn’t help but stare with relief. They were going home. Cas was coming home with him. Benny’s voice startled Dean, forcing him to look away from the portal. “There it is. You ready, Dean?”
Dean snorted. “As I’ll ever be.”
Dean pulled out his knife, slicing a thin line down his arm. He looked up at Cas and noticed a flash of anger cross the angel’s face. Dean rolled his eyes before reciting the incantation that would allow Benny to travel through the portal with him, treating Dean’s body as a sort of vessel. Benny claimed that this would work, and Dean had no choice but to trust him. Dean watched as Benny’s body broke down, molecule by molecule, and a vapor-like substance entered the wound in his arm. A shiver traveled up his spine. “See you on the other side, pal.”
A deep groan cut through the air, alerting Dean to a Leviathan that happened to catch up with them. Dean looked over at Cas, whose face revealed nothing about what he was feeling at the moment. Unsheathing his machete in preparation for a fight, Dean pushed Cas in front of him as they began to make their way toward the portal. The two men sliced their way through every monster that came across their path, moving together with ease up the mountain. Dean couldn’t help but think to himself about how well they worked together before he shook the thought away. Cas didn’t feel the same way about him. He had to get over it.
Eventually, they reached the peak. Cas grabbed Dean by the wrist and looked into his eyes for an excruciating amount of time, long enough that a second wave of Leviathans was able to accumulate at the bottom of the cliff.
“Dean, I’m sorry.”
Cas pulled Dean into him, crashing their lips together brutally, as though it was the last thing he’d ever do. Dean froze for a moment before realizing that was exactly Cas’ intention. He quickly moved to respond, pressing back with as much force as he could muster. Cas’ tongue slid over Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean opened up to allow him in. He reached out to grab Cas by the coat, to anchor them together somehow, but Cas broke the kiss, pushing Dean through the portal. The last thing Dean saw was Cas’ face, apologetic but firm.
#destiel fic#deancas fic#destiel#deancas#spn fic#lauren writes#its not letting me tag the person who asked to be tagged so i apologize </3
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New Rules
Hi, it’s been a while. I was writing the sinner and the i kissed a boy Au, but I nearly sashimi-tised my finger so I couldn’t finish it earlier.
Criminal Minds
Aaron Hotchner X Male Reader
Words: 2.1k
Warning: F words
I Kissed a boy AU!
-Hotch-
It was your fault, alright. You didn’t delete your ex’s phone number from your phone. But you keep reminded yourself that it was better this way because you didn’t answer the call. If you did delete the number, you would’ve answered the call and who knows what he’d say to you. Your ex has been calling you several times during your day shift including your breaks, receiving curious and amusing looks from your colleagues.
“Either block the number or answer it,” your colleague, June raised her brows while driving.
“Damn it, sorry,” you mumbled an apology as you turned off the sound. That was a third call from your ex while you were with June.
“You know, Ben told me you’ve been getting calls.” That big mouth Ben, you inwardly growled at one of your colleagues. Ben was a good guy, but he was a blabber mouth. The ambulance slowly halted as the light turned to red. “It’s your ex, isn’t it?” She asked knowingly, she was one of the people who knew about how bad your relationship had been with your ex.
“Yeah, I don’t know why he’s calling. It’s been some time we broke up.” To be honest, you forgot how long it had been when you were with your ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t a good relationship, and he was a violent guy. You weren’t sure what you saw in him back then. An ill-tempered sanguine man, he was. Having a relationship with Aaron made the former bad relationship forgettable.
“Just don’t answer and delete the number. No, block it.” June rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you’re dragging this staff.”
“What if something happened?” You mumbled, he might be in a trouble and might be asking for your help.
“So?” June looked at you incredulously before turning her face to front again. “He’s neither your boyfriend nor friend. You’re not a police officer or anything, you don’t have to help him. You already have that Aaron guy as your boyfriend, don’t think about others.”
You just stared outside. One by one, the cars were turning their light on as the Sun dropped to the horizon.
“You listening to me?” She narrowed her eyes as you didn’t seem to hear her. “F/N!” June yelled out your name.
You dropped your phone from start. “Shit!” You bend your waist to pick up the phone. “What the hell, Matsumoto!” But you couldn’t reach your phone as it went under the seat. “You’ve done it, thanks.” You said drily, giving up getting your phone.
“Well, you didn’t answer me,” she snorted. “You can get the phone out when we arrive.”
“Thank me for muting it, or else we would’ve traumatised by my ringtone.”
-Hotch-
You wanted to be alone but didn’t want to be in a quiet place after your shift. Your colleagues invited you for a booze, but you refused tonight. You will have your own booze, but just with yourself. With the calls, you didn’t want to bother Aaron with your depressed feelings. While walking along the street you found a boisterous bar. You peeked the inside if there was a party going on, but the noise was just from patrons talking and music. You went inside a dim lighted bar and found yourself a stool in the corner.
It wasn’t that busy so the bartender came to you as soon as he saw you sitting on the tall stool. “Hey, do you need something?” The bartender casually asked with a friendly smile.
“Yeah.” You mindlessly nodded and ordered your drink and something to eat.
Hopefully the food will be alright. He said something but his voice was buried by some patron’s yelling, and he yelled at the patron ‘hey, no fighting in here’, then he left to the kitchen for the order. With narrowed eyes, you put your phone on the bench which was still silently ringing. Can’t he just give up already? He was getting on your nerves and you glared at your poor phone.
-Hotch-
The bartender looked at the last patron of the bar. The guy who went in and ordered his drinks several times. And he was sure the guy was drunk as a sailor.
“Hey, pal, you need to go home now.” Sean looked down at the guy who was tapping his phone with his finger.
“He migh’ be there, waitin’ for me.” The drunk guy mumbled miserably. It was hard to decipher as he was slurring too much.
“You have friends? Family, I can call?” He sighed. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to close the bar and go home. You can’t stay here.”
“Righ’,” he rolled the ‘r’. The guy pulled out his dark wallet and fumbled out his card. “My ex’s keep callin’ me, I don wanna go back.” Despite his slurred speech, Sean could understand most of the part.
“Yeah, don’t answer your ex. Ex is ex, it’s just another stranger to you now.” Sean asserted, and the guy pouted at him. He just shrugged at the drunk guy.
Suddenly the guy’s demeanour changed. “Check, please!” He grinned at Sean who shook his head a little.
When Sean returned to him, unfortunately he passed out. “Sometimes I hate this job,” he swore under his breath. Sean tried to wake the patron, but it was futile. “Ah, fuck.”
He couldn’t call a cab now. His eyes went to the drunk’s phone and hoped it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t locked and he was relieved at that. He could just find someone to call and he just froze at the contact the patron had.
“What the?”
Sean dumbly stared at his brother’s smiling photo. He couldn’t remember when his brother smiled like that, and this guy had a photo of Aaron smiling. Which was a rarest thing in the world. Moreover, Aaron’s contact was on the favourite list with a pink heart next to his name. He was sure his face was making a ‘puking’ face. Urg, his brother smiling like that made him goose bumps. At least it wasn’t towards Sean. Anyway, if his contact was on the favourite list -with a scary pink heart- they must be close, right? Like close, close. Sean shook his head roughly, definitely not thinking his brother that way.
When he called his brother’s deep voice answered, though with affection. Sean shivered, nearly dropping the phone.
-Hotch-
Aaron was happy you called. It was rare for you to call him this late. With a smile Aaron answered your call, but there was no reply. “F/N?” He furrowed his brows, a train of thoughts quickly rushing in his brain.
“Aaron.” Aaron blinked. This voice was familiar, and he never imagined he’d hear this voice from your phone. “Hey, it’s Sean.” His brother said in a quiet voice.
“I know.” He could only managed to say that.
“This guy, is he your…?”
“If you’re looking for a word ‘boyfriend’, he is.” Aaron knew he said it rather defensively, but he wasn’t about to hear any stupid comments from his younger brother.
“Well, this is quite a first impression for both of us.” Sean tried to ease Aaron’s stiffness. “I have nothing against gay, don’t worry.”
“Why do you have F/N’s phone?” Aaron asked impatiently. He was already dressing up from his pyjamas to go out.
“He’s drunk. You need to pick him up.”
-Hotch-
Firstly, he stared at his brother, who seemed to be working at the bar. Secondly, he saw you all drunk, sleeping on the stool. You were the last customer and Sean was shrugging at Aaron.
“I thought you wanted to cook?” Aaron raised his brows, remembering a little quarrel from several years ago.
“Well, I still need to work more.” Sean shoved his hands into his pockets. “Don’t analyse me, Aaron.” He squinted his eyes towards at his older brother.
“Fine, I’ll not ask for now.” Aaron huffed. Sure, his little brother was an adult, but he will always worry Aaron. “You could’ve told me you were in the town, however.” He snapped at the younger man.
It’s been years he actually saw Sean face-to-face. Aaron understood Sean being busy when he didn’t attend Haley’s funeral, but he actually wanted his brother to be there for him.
“Hey, sorry, I was really busy. I would’ve called you sooner.” Sean held his hands up, for once admitting what he has done had hurt Aaron.
The brothers stared at each other for a minute and Aaron’s attention turned to you. “Hey, F/N,” Aaron called you softly, but you were deeply in your dream.
“He’s not waking up, you’ll need to carry him.” But Sean looked rather doubtful at his brother carrying you in a drunken state. “He already paid.” He added as soon as he saw Aaron taking out his wallet. Sean then whistled lowly as Aaron easily held you into his strong arms. “Bridal carry, does it mean he’s gonna be your wife?”
“Sean!” Aaron glared at his younger brother. Sean apologised but Aaron knew his brother didn’t mean one bit.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t call you. But I recently found this job after your birthday.” Sean scratched his head. “You can introduce him,” he nodded towards you, “when we see next time.”
“Hopefully soon.”
“Yeah, man. And tell Jack Uncle Sean said ‘hi’ Oh, by the way, he’s ex’s been calling him a lot apparently. You should do something about it.”
-Hotch-
Your head hurt. A lot. You shouldn’t have had so many drinks last night. But you did anyway and now you’re having the consequence. Bugger. Right now, you needed water. Without looking around, you headed out to get water. You could smell something delicious, but you ignored your grumbling stomach for now. Before you could reach the refrigerator, someone handed a cup of ice-cold water to you.
“Thank you,” you mumbled as you swallowed the cold water whole.
“Feel alright?”
“Nah ah.” Then you spat your water in a comical way and stared at Aaron. “What’re you doing here?”
“I thought this was my home,” Aaron said plainly as he grabbed a rag to clean the water.
Grabbing your throbbing head inwardly, you quickly looked around your surroundings. Especially several child’s drawings on the refrigerator caught your eyes. Jack’s drawings were attached proudly on the metallic surface, and one of them was Henry’s birthday drawing for Aaron.
“Sean called me, and I brought you here.”
You sat on the stool, your hands on the bench looking at your boyfriend. “Sean?”
“The bartender. He’s my brother.” If water was in your mouth, you would’ve spat it again. This time Aaron laughed at your face. “I didn’t know he was working as a bartender there. Bet he was shocked when he saw my picture on your phone.” Your first impression to your boyfriend’s brother became drunken you. Fuck. You could feel your face going hot with heat. “Don’t worry about it. Sean’s another topic for now. You’ve been getting calls from your ex, I hear?” He casually turned and moved fried eggs from the pan to a white plate.
“I, what? How?”
He devilishly smiled at your grumbling stomach. “I will set some rules for you, F/N. You can eat after if you agree my rules.”
You looked at Aaron and the food back and forth. Aaron wouldn’t do anything to harm you or do something bad, unlike your ex. You trusted Aaron. “Okay…?” You agreed hastily.
“Now, block the number. Don’t answer him.” Aaron put the plate in front of you.
“I’ve heard that a couple times last night already.”
“Well, they did give you a good advice then.” He moved back to get a fork for you. “And if he comes to your home, call me and don’t ever let him enter your house.” He placed the fork on the plate and grabbed your chin lightly. “Finally, don’t be his friend.”
“Aaron...”
“I don’t profile my family or friends, but it comes to natural for me. I can’t stop myself from picking a hint or two. He’s not worth it and forget about him. I can’t be there for you all the time, but I’ll protect you with my life. I won’t let you get hurt because of some guy.”
You shook your head, huffing out a little laughter. “You sound like jealous.”
“Wouldn’t I be when I heard your ex’s been calling you and you couldn’t block the number and became drunk?”
“I don’t intend to run away from you.”
He cupped your face and kissed you, his tongue gently sweeping over your wet lips from the water. He pulled away with a satisfied smile. “Good.”
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfic#I kissed a boy au#male reader#sean hotchner
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Episode 6: the One Where LWJ is Drunk and Gets Married
YES, GUYS GALS AND NB PALS, WE ARE AT THIS MOST WONDERFUL EPISODE.
OUR FIRST INTRODUCTION TO DRUNKJ!LWJ
AND THE HANDFASTING THAT INSPIRED A MILLION FICS
Okay, to set the scene, we’ve got JC, NHS and WWX having a sneaky drinking party with Forbidden Alcohol
Obviously, LWJ can spidey-sense when a rule is being violently broken so he appears at the scene of the crime to BREAK UP THE PARTY (or possibly a threesome?? He’s not sure but he’s gonna put a stop to that immediately)
HIS SERIOUS BB FACE IS SUPER ADORABLE HERE, GUYS
LIKE, I’M MORE PARTIAL TO WWX BUT UGH, LWJ IS SO CUTE HERE???
IT’S AWFUL
WWX: *bounces right into lwj’s space* join us for a drink lan zhan!! We earned it after defeating the Haunted Water!!
LWJ: *stares over wwx’s shoulder* alcohol is forbidden in the cloud recesses
WHY WON’T YOU LOOK HIM IN THE FACE, LWJ?? IS IT BECAUSE HE’S SO CLOSE TO YOU SUDDENLY???
WWX: chill out dude *playfully tugs on lwj’s sleeve*
Oh man, the glare that lwj shoots at wwx’s hand here could have started a fire. I mean, it must have at least burned a little with how quickly wwx lets go
LWJ: Report to the Punishment Chamber
Did they have to call it ‘punishment chamber’??
It sounds like some kind of kinky sex dungeon, which, like, to each their own,(i’ll read some kinky sex dungeon fic every once and a while, myself)
But this is Ancient Fantasy China summer school…seems a little inappropriate in context
ANYWAY
WWX again tries to coax LWJ in to having a drink with them. He doesn’t understand how someone can just…not drink alcohol. Oh wwx, you budding alcoholic you
And here WWX nobly sacrifices himself to save his drunk buddies by distracting lwj (who was about to call for backup, like a narc) and pins some sort of mind-control talisman on him
Wwx: sit and have a drink with me!
Lwj: *sits down and takes a shot*
Lwj: *passes out*
Wwx: omg i killed him. WAKE UP YOU CAN’T STAY HERE!! YOU HAVE TO GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!!
Wwx: *proceeds to gently guide lwj onto the bed*
You know after that initial panic, wwx looks too damn pleased with himself, especially after he gets lwj to call him wei-gege
Wwx suddenly notices that lwj’s ribbon is off kilter and informs him of it bc that’s what friends do
Wwx: your ribbon is crooked
Lwj: *scandalized gasp* crooked??
Why’s he so adorable when he’s drunk?? LOOK AT HIM TRYING TO SEE HIS OWN FOREHEAD AND GETTING ALL CROSS-EYED, WHAT A CUTIE
Wwx: i can help!!
Lwj: *slaps wwx’s hand* Go Away
Wwx: you’re making it worse!!
Lwj: *slaps wwx’s hand away harder* DON’T TOUCH! THE RIBBON IS ONLY FOR FAMILY AND SIGNIFICANT OTHERS
And now we have a way to measure their queer queer love for each other without making the censors mad
How does this show do it?? This is gayer than most of the stuff aired in the US and the US doesn’t even have that kind of censorship laws media producers here are a bunch of COWARDS, disney i’m looking at you
Wwx: lol, significant others, really?
Lwj: what’s so funny
Wwx: nobody’s gonna marry into the lan clan with your thousands of dumb rules and chronic allergy to fun
LOLOLOL BOY HAS NO CLUE. JUST YOU WAIT WWX, YOU’RE GONNA EAT THOSE WORDS
Wwx: nope, you are gonna be Forever Alone
Lwj: …that’s fine
This is actually kind of heartbreaking tbh
He’s so resigned and pretending so hard not to care!!
HE TRULY BELIEVES HE’S NOT LOVABLE *UGLY CRYING*
Idk how the actor did it bc lwj still has a very placid expression on his face but it somehow manages to convey like, a sense of loneliness while still looking adorably drunk?? Idk man, i think black magic might be involved
All this to say POOR BB LAN ZHAN, COME HERE SWEETIE AND LET ME HUG YOU. YOU’RE GONNA BE FINE, I SWEAR.
Wwx is so incredulous at this response. Like he totally believes lwj would be okay staying alone forever but he doesn’t understand it
Bc wwx is a dumb teenage boy who doesn’t yet have the emotional intelligence to see that lwj is just saying that bc he’s scared and hurting
Now we get to see an acute case of Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome like we did back in episode 2!
Wwx: your mother must be so bored here all the time
DAMN IT WWX
WHAT IS IT WITH HIM AND BRINGING UP PEOPLE’S DEAD MOTHERS???
LWJ: i don’t have a mother
He says flatly HIDING HIS SORROW
*UGLY SOBBING*
HE’S SO SAD AND LONELY GUYS
IT HURTS TO LOOK AT
WWX: you can’t not have a mother! Somebody gave birth to…oh.
There’s a crack vid somewhere on youtube with this scene voiced over “it was at that moment he realized…he Fucked Up”
And it’s true
Dumb boy
Here WWX makes up by sharing his sad orphan story with LWJ. it’s so sweet
THEIR SONG IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND WHILE THIS EXCHANGE HAPPENS
UGH THIS SHOW
LISTEN, ALL THIS HAS HAPPENED ALREADY AND WE’RE BARELY 10 MINUTES INTO THE EPISODE
LIKE, WHAT??
HOW. HOW CAN YOU GIVE ME SO MANY FEELINGS IN TEN MINUTES. THE FIRST TEN MINUTES OF THE EP EVEN.
WWX: my parents died when i was four and I can’t remember their faces–but i do remember getting chased by feral dogs
POOR BB WWX
HE CAN’T EVEN REMEMBER THEIR FACES
OH, but we do get to see Actual BB!wwx in a brief flashback (within a flashback, remember this summer school business is not present time, how weird is that) and he’s riding a donkey while his mama and papa walk beside him. It’s adorable.
And after all that Emotional Vulnerability, he’s like “i’ll drink to that bro!” and makes a toast
I actually kind of like the toast he makes here with lwj tho
He tells him “may we never forget what is worth remembering or remember what is worth forgetting”
Idk if that’s like, a traditional toast or something he made up on the spot, but i like it
We get a brief moment of plot development here.
AND OOOOH, THEY’RE ABOUT TO GET IN TROUBLE!!
So some Lan SNITCH barges into the room where lqr and lxc are at and is all “we caught wwx drinking Forbidden Alcohol!” and lxc’s expression is all gently amused
but then Lan Snitch continues “LWJ was with him!!” and lxc’s amused expression quickly morphs into Very Alarmed
(right before that all happened tho we get to see lwj fall out of bed, still passed out drunk and wwx laughs at him. I can’t even hold that against him bc i totally laughed at lwj too)
The camera now shows us some frankly HORRIFYING beating sticks (paddles?? Do they qualify as paddles?? THEY’RE HUGE AND SCARY AND MADE OF NIGHTMARES)
And bc LWJ is too honorable for his own good
Lwj: i am at fault and accept my punishment!
And goes on his knees to willingly get beaten. STOP THAT LWJ
WWX IMMEDIATELY steps in to take the blame, like no, it’s actually my fault bc i forced him to drink when he didn’t want to. LAN ZHAN SHOULDN’T GET PUNISHED!!
LQR: (proving that lans are all Dramatique) ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN CLOUD RECESSES??
Take a chill pill, old man. A teenager getting drunk is not gonna start the apocalypse (probably)
And here lwj completely ignores wwx’s attempt to absolve him and is all no, I Made a Mistake and Must Get Punished
Wwx: STOP ASKING FOR PUNISHMENT YOU IDIOT
So the punishment is kind of…harsh, but also lol bc as soon as wwx sees lwj take the beating without flinching or even staggering under the strength of the hits (lwj is truly a stronger man than i; one look at those Nightmare Sticks I would’ve run for the hills), he grits his teeth and forces himself to stay steady
Wwx: *internally but you can totally read it in his face* i’m not gonna let that bastard one-up me!! I have WAY more experience taking punishments. I am the punishment KING.
Okay so that all happens and afterwards WINGMAN LXC STRIKES AGAIN
LXC: wwx, you should definitely visit the family’s private cold spring
LXC: you know, so you can heal faster and not miss class
LXC: not for any other reason
I’D LIKE TO TAKE THIS MOMENT TO THANK GOD AND ALSO JESUS FOR THE UPCOMING SCENE
WE ARE AT THE COLD SPRING
LOOK AT WWX RUNNING TOWARDS LWJ
WET, HALF-NAKED LWJ
Wwx: *leans coquettishly against a tree thing and pouts* why didn’t you tell me about this spring? Friends don’t keep secrets from friends!!
wwx, you’re so clever, how can you be so stupid – boy is flirting at max level and doesn’t even realize it???
Lwj: HOW ARE YOU EVEN HERE *frantically robes up like some virginal maiden which he kinda is*
Wwx: your brother told me!
Lwj: *internally* brother why
And here wwx gets into the cold spring
Wwx: so cold so cold, let me get close to you where it’s warmer~! *dives right into lwj’s personal bubble*
Lwj: *takes a HUGE step back*
Wwx: *pouts* you know i didn’t like you much before but after our Romantic Moonlit Sword Fight and our Sword Fight By the Waterfall, i’ve decided i like you a lot and we should definitely be friends forever
Lwj: *doesn’t even look at wwx* That’s Not Necessary
Wwx: before you reject me, let me show you all the ~benefits~ to being my friend! *starts to strip*
(I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING YOU, HE LITERALLY SAID BENEFITS AND STARTED TO GET NAKED)
LWJ *is Horrified in a Repressed Gay Way* WHAT ARE YOU DOING
WWX: getting naked?? To heal better?? I thought this was obvious???
LWJ: *determinedly walks away*
WWX: wait don’t leave!! I’ll keep my clothes on! Anyway you should definitely visit me in yunmeng and i can pick lotus seeds for you. That’s totally what i meant about benefits.
LWJ: no
WWX: i can also introduce you to all the pretty girls there!
I CRACK UP EVERY TIME AT THIS. WWX, THAT IS A WHOLE GAY BOY YOU’RE TALKING TO, OH MY GOD
Then it turns out the cold spring is actually Haunted Water 2: This Time It’s Personal and tries to drown them
See this is why i don’t trust any bodies of water
They’re all out to get us
AND NOW WE GET TO THE CAVE OF WONDERS (or cold pond cave, whatev)
Wwx: what is happening
Lwj: *is fascinated by the cave of wonders*
Lwj: *internally* ooooh Magic Guqin!! (BECAUSE HE’S A NERD LOLOL)
Magic Guqin: NOT TODAY SATAN *attacks wwx*
Wwx: WHY IS IT ATTACKING ME, I DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING YET!!
brief pause here to point out that we meet the bunnies now!! Hello bunnies!!! Everyone in the fandom loves you~!!! 💗💗💗
Okay so Magic Guqin continues to attack wwx but wwx is a Clever Boy and figures out that it’s only attacking him because he doesn’t have a sacred lan ribbon
Wwx: lwj, quick, give me your ribbon!
Lwj: *FLIES RIGHT OVER TO WWX and proceeds to bind their wrists together with the SACRED RIBBON ONLY FAMILY ANd S.O.’s CAN TOUCH*
Then the camera zooms in on the metal piece of the ribbon that is now swaying gently between them like, Subtlety? Never heard of her!
Camera: yep, this is totally a straight thing that straight bros do together
So now that they’re bound together for eternity the boys approach the Magic Guqin
Lwj slaps wwx’s hands away from the guqin here – just bc i let you touch the sacred ribbon doesn’t mean you can touch the magic guqin that tried to murder you
BC LWJ IS A MUSIC NERD AND IS TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER THE PRECIOUS MUSICAL HEIRLOOM
LWJ proceeds to reverently play the Magic Guqin and we have this moment where he’s like, floating in space surrounded by glowy blue lights??
Idk man, it’s weird but we’ll roll with it
This is the first time we see him communicate with spirits using music, btw.
Now we meet Lan Yi!! Who is a badass and important for plot reasons but the Valid Reason she’s mentioned here is because SHE OFFICIATES THE WANGXIAN WEDDING (bc we’ve already established that we’re not here for the plot lol)
the boys are tied together with the sacred ribbon and then they bow to a clan elder. How is that not, bare minimum, a handfasting???
Okay, technically, lwj bowed to the elder first to show respect while wwx stood there all stunned until lwj reminded him of the Importance of Manners. Then wwx bowed. But I’m pretty sure that still counts.
“You two being here must be destiny!” lan yi says, “i’m gonna do some plot exposition so pay attention.”
Thankfully we are not lwj or wwx so we don’t have to pay attention at all!!
At some point, wwx makes a clever comment and lan yi is all “wwx you’re as smart as i thought!!
Yes yes i definitely approve of you marrying my great great great grand-son/nephew/whatever the heck he is, idk i’ve been in this cave too long with only bunnies for company" (🎶bunnies are better than people, buns don’t you think that’s true~?🎶 I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT REFERENCE, DISNEY YOU STILL SUCK I JUST HAVE POOR SELF-RESTRAINT)
Okay, she for real complimented wwx’s intelligence (bc I guess everyone’s hot for WWX’s big brain? Idk) but i’m pretty sure she was thinking the rest of that really loudly in her head
Then more plot stuff happens and the episode ends!!!
Beautiful, phenomenal episode. One of the MOST IMPORTANT Wangxian episodes we have!! 100/10 stars, would watch again.
Return to Masterpost
#WangXiantics#wangxian#the untamed#this is my valentines gift to the fandom#well#this episode and the next one#it's not much#but it's all I have!#I MADE IT WITH LOVE AND I'VE BEEN ASSURED THAT THAT'S WHAT MATTERS
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Black Survival characters as RTgame quotes
i have a new way to fill a day when i don’t know what headcanon i could use:special posts
~
Adela: (Check) There’s a check. Keep popping them in check. (Check) (Check) (Check)
Adriana: Radical has taken the burgle land really to heart and he’s just setting fire to the forest.
Alex: Hey bro you want some tequila? (yeets tequila bottle at a guy)
Arda:(writes down “Mom i’m sorry”) Good start.
Aya: You cant escape the law! I have the ability to teleport! Don’t make me finger gun you!
Barbara: Well, that was a fast midlife crisis. Happy birthday! Midlife Crisis time!
Bernice: (holds a guy’s face) Ned, I... never said this, but sometimes when I look into your eyes- NO, DON’T, COME BACK HERE-
Bianca: These are all, just, like, weird planet names. Like, Zoton, Cropin, Cragos. Draarendy...? Perotex, m- (laughs) wait, WAIT WAIT- Wait that was just the poor man’s Mars, come on. That last one was just Mares. Could you name all the planets in the solar system? Oh we got earth, venus, saturn, Mares-
(written in 10/7 so we’ll see how this ages once bianca gets released, maybe she won’t be the same gimmick as jackie)
Camilo: “It’s just, all those years ago... It was so hard-” Oh no. “I didn’t know how to raise Sarah alone.” Hey ned, let’s do some more dancing! (dances) Doooo doo doo do doo dododo! Haa haa haaa!
Cathy: ‘S a little bit pricy, but fuck it! I don’t know how to play Monopoly, let’s go!
Chiara: “This is the man in question, Edward Romsey. A teacher once, would you believe?” But then he forgot to buy Dosney related products.
Daniel: “Barbara just discovered how to make a Grim Reaper Snowman”... (looks at snowman with a black cape and a scythe) Oh Gooood.
Echion: (fuckboy voice) They call it... The Fortnite, the new violent shooter from Epic Games Studios that kids are dropping out of school to play.
Eleven: I made the smoothie! I made the smoothie! (car crashes)
Eva: Heart’s desires... (reading out options, starts laughing) “to be tall”!
Emma: (petting the side of someone’s head) Stroke him gently.
Fiora: Now remember your training, guys, big circle-shape swings, okay, you wanna try to get a figure A motion, okay? If you remember that, nothing will go wrong in an actual fight. And remember to have fun, it’s an important part of the experiment. (whacks everyone in a row in a few seconds) Who’s next?
Hart: (playing guitar) I call this little ditty Wonderwall. You may not have heard it before.
Hyejin: You’re supposed to click evacuate BEFORE the disaster happens!
Hyunwoo: What could a dog have possibly done to go to jail?!
Isol: Can I take your handgun? This loaded? ....Pal, do you have any ammo? I’m trying to fire this handgun in your store. I’m gonna take this with me, thank you.
Jackie: Oh no, not this again. We did this two years ago, I’m not doing it again! -It’s happening again. I thought I was finished playing Groundhog Day!
Jan: This man unironically says epic, I don’t know if we can trust him.
Jenny: Are there any controls I might have? (the plane starts going down) Oh, B just stalls the engine.
JP: Thanks to VR, I can now be more gay than normal.
Lenox: I’m trying to do big brain plays here, but I’m not a smart woman!
Leon: We have seven thousand viewers for Wii Sports, and we’re top ten on Twitch- wh- why are people here-
Li Dailin: You know how in like, the third Harry Potter, the night’s bus takes Harry to Hogwarts? Like, the leaky cauldron, and... you’re not really sure how he’s dodging all these cars?
Luke: I’ll be, like, sleeping tonight, i’ll be waking up in a cold sweat, and be like “Good air!” His soul has been trapped in Wii Sports since 2009, he hasn’t been able to leave this game.
‘I wonder if the voice actor talks like this in real life as well’. Could you just imagine if he has a wife and kids, and the trainer’s like... (enthusiastically) ‘Good morning!’ ‘Darling, it’s-it’s been like nine years since Wii Sports Resort voiceover.’ ‘I know, right?’ ‘Like, you have to talk like a normal human being again! You can’t just keep putting the family through this!’ ‘Nice air!’ ‘WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS! WE’RE NOT IN THE AIR!’
Magnus: (somehow breaks glass by grabbing it) My hands are bleeding terribly.
Mai: “Alice, I want to speak to your manager.” Dude, it’s just coffee. It’s just coffee. ....He’s a karen, isn’t he? (points at him) You’re a karen.
Nadine: (shoots at the bullseye) I’m already a pro. Look at that. Watch me get it again. (shoots at the bullseye again)
Nathapon: (writes down ‘hi my name is Oole’) Always important to put your name on your notebook. You know, just in case you lose it.
Nicky: (swinging wii remote wildly towards mii) Why won’t... you die?! (game starts) Oh that was practice-
Rio: Do you wanna be that guy who reads everything on Wikipedia? Play this game.
Rosalio: Oh jesus- oh, I didn’t expect for there to be consequences-
Rozzi: (jumping off a plane with a parashoot, people start locking hands with the avatar) Lose ‘em, lose ‘em! (shakes wildly to get them away) Get ‘em off me! Get ‘em off me!
Shoichi: ‘Ey Daithi, how much would it cost for me to buy that off ya?’ ‘Uh, one thousand, one hundred and forty- (amount of money changes) Oh sorry, just changed! One thousand, one hundred and twenty nine.’ ‘You’re gonna leave me with a dollar.’ ‘Yep.’
Silvia: (Picks up a gun) Is it loaded? (points it at herself and pulls the trigger repeatedly) Doesn’t appear to be.
Sissela: “Pulmonary oedema”... I can’t even pronounce it, that sounds really bad.
Sua: Oh my god, bless his heart. Ross Bob just came back from the dead to feed the cat. He’s actually the sweetest man alive.
William: They all keep saying “I’d love to stick around but I gotta go”. They don’t- they don’t have a say in this
Xiukai: Why did the donut cause me to hallucinate so badly??
Yuki: “Fix everything and leave”. I need that button IRL. Fix everything and leave.
Zahir: (accidentally drops glass) I appear to be struggling. (looks around and grabs a tiny drink umbrella) Would you like an umbrella?
#black survival#headcanons#black survival headcanons#again i'm not tagging all of this shit#incorrect quotes
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Hidden- Dhawan!MasterxOC Part 2
This is part 2, part one is here.
Earth, 21st century, United Kingdom, Brighton, 11.30pm. Alice was drunk, like most Saturday nights when she and her friends went down to their favourite club in Brighton. The club night was called Sane and was always held in the basement room of a gay bar that if you saw it in the daylight you would walk right past it, slightly concerned that you would get an STD from just looking at it but at night, especially Saturdays it was Alice’s playground.
She had a tough week at work and needed to let loose, which is what she was doing. They had drunk their cheap canned cocktails on the train down and were already half wasted by the time they had got to Sane, being regulars had their advantages, they were let through regardless of their drunken state. There was always a theme to the Sane club nights and this evening the theme was Moulin Rouge Realness so Alice had bought herself an expensive red and black corset with matching skirt, black fishnets and high heeled boots and had donned a realistic looking red long wig.
Her friend Gemma had decided to fish out her leather looking trousers and put on a Victorian looking flouncy shirt and clumpy boots. She had tied her blonde curly hair into a high pony tail and perched a top hat high on her head. As ever, Gemma’s twin brother George had gone extra flamboyant. Being the only gay man in the group George always played up to the stereotype. Tonight, he also had a pair of tight leather trousers on but instead of a shirt, he was wearing a black leather harness that Gemma was holding in her hand. “It’s a bit weird for me to be your Dom as I’m your twin sister George” commented Gemma when he suggested it.
“Sis please, you’re ruining my aesthetic” was George’s reply.
Anyway, back to the evening. Alice had consumed as many shots as she could without throwing up, had danced as much as she could without injuring herself, although the night was still young and she could always be counted on to get up on the pole next to the DJ booth as whenever Alice drank, she often though that she could pole dance. Just as she was about to order another shot of tequila, Alice felt a wave of nausea come over her.
She tapped on the shoulder of George who was shamelessly flirting with the guy standing next to him and pointed upwards. They had developed different signs a long time ago because it was often too loud to talk. Pointing upwards meant they wanted to go outside to get some air, brushing their arm meant they were going to the toilet and a rather crude gesture meant one of them was getting off with someone, it was usually George but sometimes it was Alice if a fit straight guy had stumbled into the club. It was never Gemma as she had a long-term boyfriend.
George nodded but then went back to talking to the guy he was chatting up, Alice looked around, but in her drunken state she couldn’t see Gemma so she decided to go up on her own. She wobbled a bit on the steep stairs but made it outside without making a fool of herself. She turned right, towards the Brighton seafront and then sat down in an empty doorway of a disused coffee shop. Her head was still spinning so she kept it down and took some deep breaths. Then she heard her name being called in the distance, she looked up and peered up and down the street but couldn’t see anyone she recognised. Alice was a pretty common name probably someone else she concluded.
She put her head down again but was interrupted once more by a group of male voices “Hey you, nice outfit” Slurred a man, a few years younger than Alice.
“Thanks” muttered Alice, trying to avoid eye contact with the drunk men.
“Voulez vous coucher avec moi” said another man cosying up to Alice, he was not French and was also drunk but Alice got the gist of what he was saying.
“Ahhhh, I don’t think so pal” denied Alice getting up and stumbling away.
“Hey we were just having some fun, no need to be so rude” said the first man, getting angry.
“Oh, just piss off and leave me alone” said Alice.
“Alice there you are!” Came Gemma’s voice behind the men. The group turned round and saw Gemma and George who’s lead was firmly in Gemma’s grasp, Gemma had also acquired a whip from somewhere which made her look more threatening and George had his arms crossed over his chest, trying to look intimidating but was actually just hiding the fact that his nipples were erect because he was cold.
“Err, come on man, let’s leave these costumed freaks to it” said the third man who had looked uncomfortable from the start. The three friends watched as the unwelcome men made their way back down to the sea front towards the more conventional clubs.
“Hey, are you ok? We were really worried” said Gemma, rushing forward to Alice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I told George where I was but I couldn’t find you”
Gemma shot a dirty look at George who was clearly too drunk to remember that conversation. Alice felt the sickness and light-headedness arrive once again and swayed on the spot. “Alice, you look awful” stated a worried Gemma.
“I feel it” muttered Alice. Just then she heard her name being called again, the voice seemed to be coming from in front of her. Just as she felt the sick rise up her throat, she looked over at the opposite building and saw a man, slightly taller than herself with a dark complexion and black ruffled hair, wearing a purple jacket and dark tartan trousers. He had one hand in his waistcoat pocket, one leg crossed over the other and was leaning casually on the building’s pillar. He was grinning inanely at her, like a child who had just discovered a toy at Christmas. She couldn’t hold it in any longer, Alice spewed all the drinks she had consumed over the evening, plus the dinner she had insisted on having before going out, all over the floor.
“Shit!” Exclaimed George as he stepped back. Gemma grabbed hold of Alice and held her wig back from her face as she continued to throw up.
“Hey Gemma, you need to get Alice home. I’ll get the car ready” came the voice of Tyler, their friend and one of the bouncers of the club.
Gemma turned around “you sure? She might throw up again”
“No, I won’t” came Alice’s weak voice
“I’d rather she throws up in my car than in a taxi. I won’t charge you for it” said Todd as he disappeared to get his car.
They got back to Alice and Gemma’s flat without any further throwing up and Gemma took control of getting Alice undressed whilst George helped himself to toast.
Finally, Alice flopped into her king-sized bed and Gemma tucked her in. “Sorry for ruining your night” said Alice, who was still wearing her red wig as she wouldn’t let Gemma remove it.
“You didn’t ruin it; we were ready to go anyways. Who stays to the end hmmm?”
“We usually do”
“Well we’re saddos. Just get some sleep, I’ll be in my room and George is on the sofa, if you need anything okay?”
Alice nodded and rolled over, passing out instantly. Gemma, who had sobered up by this point waited and watched, making sure Alice hadn’t stopped breathing. When she was satisfied Gemma got up off Alice’s bed and took herself to bed, George had already passed out on the sofa, still in his harness. Gemma rolled her eyes at her twin and shut her bedroom door forcefully.
The first few moments of Alice being asleep, the room felt like it was spinning behind her eyes. This was a normal sensation for drunk Alice but then there was a bright light and she found herself in a long corridor with dark wood panelling on the walls and many, many doors. She tried the first door but it was locked. The same for the door opposite, the third door she tried was also locked but she could hear suspicious noises coming from behind so she recoiled and moved on. The door at the end of the hallway seemed to glow so she decided to head for that.
On the way she passed a mirror and stopped to look at her reflection, she didn’t really recognise herself, she seemed to still be wearing her wig from the club but as she tugged on it, it wouldn’t come off, it felt real. She was also bizarrely wearing an Alice in Wonderland costume complete with the white tights and black hair ribbon. She shook her head and proceeded to the last door.
This time it sprung open easily and she stepped through. She found herself in a bright garden with massive roses that seemed to sway in the breeze with their human faces turned upwards. There was a table in the centre, set for an afternoon tea with loads of cake and scones and a big tea pot.
“Hello Alice” said a familiar voice. The man she had seen observing her whilst she was throwing up outside Sane was standing in the exact same position by one of the ginormous red roses, a croquet mallet in his free hand. “Fancy a game? Or a cup of tea?”
“Who are you?” asked Alice who was equal parts confused and slightly turned on. She hadn’t noticed how attractive the mystery man was before.
“An old friend” he answered simply. He moved towards the table and took the seat at the head and gestured for her to join him.
She felt the overwhelming desire to obey him and took the seat to his left. He watched as she poured him some tea and then her own. Alice sipped it carefully “Earl grey, my favourite. How did you know?”
“I know a lot about you love, a lot! Also, Earl Grey happens to be my favourite too”
“Well if you know so much about me, I feel a bit stupid not knowing anything about you. What’s your name?”
“Ohh, I’ve gone by so many names in the past. You can call me Master”
Alice snorted “that’s a bit presumptuous” but then instantly regretted her words as the Master’s expression darkened. He looked like he was going to explode at her but then he seemed to get his temper under control. “Have a slice of cake Alice”
“Oh, I shouldn’t, I’m watching my weight”
Slam! The Master pounded his fist onto the table top, making the china rattle and the cutlery fall to the floor. Alice was proper shaking now, ‘ok time to wake up now!’ she was thinking furiously.
“You’re not dreaming Alice” said the Master darkly. He got up out of his seat and crept towards her, he sat down on the table so he was so very close to her. “This is very real, well in a manner of speaking. I had hoped that we were going to have a nice catch up before I got to this but I suppose if you want to skip the formalities, that’s fine”
The Master took a steadying breath “I need to you help me Alice”
“Help you? How?”
“You need to let me into your world”
“And why would I do that?” Asked Alice, getting a bit braver.
“Because I could tell you the truth, about your life, about your parents. Everything”
“I know about my life”
“Nope, you only think you do. I can show you the world Alice. Shining, shimmering, splendid” The master had got back up at this point and hand gone round to the back of her. He had placed his hands on her shoulders and worked on the tension in them. This was one of Alice’s weaknesses, she loved it when a guy touched her like his, or played with her hair, or kissed her neck which was what the Master was doing now.
“Oh God.” she vocalised.
“That’s right Alice, and there’s a lot more where that came from.”
Despite herself, Alice got up off the chair and sat on the table, pushing the chair away from them. She grabbed hold of the Master’s lapels and pulled him closer. “Tell me what I need to do” she said breathily.
In the TARDIS, the fam was watching at the Doctor was concentrating very hard. A moment ago, she had gasped and said “he’s found her.”
Graham, Yaz and Ryan had both established that the Doctor had meant that the Master had found the Princess and had rushed to the Doctor’s side.
“What are you gonna do?” Asked Ryan
“I need to establish contact, he’s brought her into his psychic garden, I need you and Yaz to keep the TARDIS flying, we’re gonna break through my barriers soon and land near her home. Graham keep an eye on me, if it looks like something bad is happening, shake me. Got it?”
“Got it” the three answered in unison. The Doctor sat down on the steps and put her fingers to her temples. Suddenly she found herself in the corridor that Alice had travelled down a few moments earlier. Like Alice, the Doctor tried all the doors but to no avail. One did open further down but out sprung a Slitheen which she had to quickly shut the door on. It was then she noted the door at the end. “This is got to be it hasn’t it Doctor?” She said out loud to herself and ran straight for the heavy looking door. It opened but jammed so she couldn’t squeeze through.
Through the door sliver, she could see the garden and the table as before. She could hear voices too which she knew was the Master and a lighter more feminine voice she presumed was the Princess.
“Tell me what I need to do” said the Princess. The Doctor remembered that tone of voice from long ago and she fought harder to get through.
“Kiss me” said the Master softly.
Alice had never felt so turned on in her life, it was funny how quickly she had gone from scared to horny but it happened and she drew him closer placing her lips on his. It started off gentle, almost as if the Master was astounded that his request had worked but then he got into the groove of the action and their kiss deepened.
The Doctor heard cups and saucers being pushed off the table and managed to get her head and half her torso through the gap. She saw the Master pushing the Princess down onto the table, the Princess had her white legs wrapped around the Master’s waist, giving him everything he wanted.
“Get off her!” The Doctor yelled. The couple broke their kiss and looked over at her. The Princess had no idea who the Doctor was and the Doctor felt the pure hatred the Master was giving off hid her like a wave.
“She’s mine!” The Master growled. He turned back to Alice who was panting, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He knew that she could feel his erection through his trousers but they would have to delay this slightly. “I’ll be with you shortly Princess.”
The Master put his hands on Alice’s temples and the girl began to glow, the Master kissed her again, once more to seal his passage into her world and the Alice was gone.
“Bye Doctor!” called the Master as he began to glow too.
“NO!” Yelled the Doctor as she watched her former best friend fade away, following the Princess. Suddenly she felt Graham shake her and she returned to the TARDIS.
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Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
BY ROSS GAY
Friends, will you bear with me today,
for I have awakened
from a dream in which a robin
made with its shabby wings a kind of veil
behind which it shimmied and stomped something from the south
of Spain, its breast aflare,
looking me dead in the eye
from the branch that grew into my window,
coochie-cooing my chin,
the bird shuffling its little talons left, then right,
while the leaves bristled
against the plaster wall, two of them drifting
onto my blanket while the bird
opened and closed its wings like a matador
giving up on murder,
jutting its beak, turning a circle,
and flashing, again,
the ruddy bombast of its breast
by which I knew upon waking
it was telling me
in no uncertain terms
to bellow forth the tubas and sousaphones,
the whole rusty brass band of gratitude
not quite dormant in my belly—
it said so in a human voice,
“Bellow forth”—
and who among us could ignore such odd
and precise counsel?
Hear ye! hear ye! I am here
to holler that I have hauled tons—by which I don’t mean lots,
I mean tons — of cowshit
and stood ankle deep in swales of maggots
swirling the spent beer grains
the brewery man was good enough to dump off
holding his nose, for they smell very bad,
but make the compost writhe giddy and lick its lips,
twirling dung with my pitchfork
again and again
with hundreds and hundreds of other people,
we dreamt an orchard this way,
furrowing our brows,
and hauling our wheelbarrows,
and sweating through our shirts,
and two years later there was a party
at which trees were sunk into the well-fed earth,
one of which, a liberty apple, after being watered in
was tamped by a baby barefoot
with a bow hanging in her hair
biting her lip in her joyous work
and friends this is the realest place I know,
it makes me squirm like a worm I am so grateful,
you could ride your bike there
or roller skate or catch the bus
there is a fence and a gate twisted by hand,
there is a fig tree taller than you in Indiana,
it will make you gasp.
It might make you want to stay alive even, thank you;
and thank you
for not taking my pal when the engine
of his mind dragged him
to swig fistfuls of Xanax and a bottle or two of booze,
and thank you for taking my father
a few years after his own father went down thank you
mercy, mercy, thank you
for not smoking meth with your mother
oh thank you thank you
for leaving and for coming back,
and thank you for what inside my friends’
love bursts like a throng of roadside goldenrod
gleaming into the world,
likely hauling a shovel with her
like one named Aralee ought,
with hands big as a horse’s,
and who, like one named Aralee ought,
will laugh time to time til the juice
runs from her nose; oh
thank you
for the way a small thing’s wail makes
the milk or what once was milk
in us gather into horses
huckle-buckling across a field;
and thank you, friends, when last spring
the hyacinth bells rang
and the crocuses flaunted
their upturned skirts, and a quiet roved
the beehive which when I entered
were snugged two or three dead
fist-sized clutches of bees between the frames,
almost clinging to one another,
this one’s tiny head pushed
into another’s tiny wing,
one’s forelegs resting on another’s face,
the translucent paper of their wings fluttering
beneath my breath and when
a few dropped to the frames beneath:
honey; and after falling down to cry,
everything’s glacial shine.
And thank you, too. And thanks
for the corduroy couch I have put you on.
Put your feet up. Here’s a light blanket,
a pillow, dear one,
for I can feel this is going to be long.
I can’t stop
my gratitude, which includes, dear reader,
you, for staying here with me,
for moving your lips just so as I speak.
Here is a cup of tea. I have spooned honey into it.
And thank you the tiny bee’s shadow
perusing these words as I write them.
And the way my love talks quietly
when in the hive,
so quietly, in fact, you cannot hear her
but only notice barely her lips moving
in conversation. Thank you what does not scare her
in me, but makes her reach my way. Thank you the love
she is which hurts sometimes. And the time
she misremembered elephants
in one of my poems which, oh, here
they come, garlanded with morning glory and wisteria
blooms, trombones all the way down to the river.
Thank you the quiet
in which the river bends around the elephant’s
solemn trunk, polishing stones, floating
on its gentle back
the flock of geese flying overhead.
And to the quick and gentle flocking
of men to the old lady falling down
on the corner of Fairmount and 18th, holding patiently
with the softest parts of their hands
her cane and purple hat,
gathering for her the contents of her purse
and touching her shoulder and elbow;
thank you the cockeyed court
on which in a half-court 3 vs. 3 we oldheads
made of some runny-nosed kids
a shambles, and the 61-year-old
after flipping a reverse lay-up off a back door cut
from my no-look pass to seal the game
ripped off his shirt and threw punches at the gods
and hollered at the kids to admire the pacemaker’s scar
grinning across his chest; thank you
the glad accordion’s wheeze
in the chest; thank you the bagpipes.
Thank you to the woman barefoot in a gaudy dress
for stopping her car in the middle of the road
and the tractor trailer behind her, and the van behind it,
whisking a turtle off the road.
Thank you god of gaudy.
Thank you paisley panties.
Thank you the organ up my dress.
Thank you the sheer dress you wore kneeling in my dream
at the creek’s edge and the light
swimming through it. The koi kissing
halos into the glassy air.
The room in my mind with the blinds drawn
where we nearly injure each other
crawling into the shawl of the other’s body.
Thank you for saying it plain:
fuck each other dumb.
And you, again, you, for the true kindness
it has been for you to remain awake
with me like this, nodding time to time
and making that noise which I take to mean
yes, or, I understand, or, please go on
but not too long, or, why are you spitting
so much, or, easy Tiger
hands to yourself. I am excitable.
I am sorry. I am grateful.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden.
The sun has made them warm.
I picked them just for you. I promise
I will try to stay on my side of the couch.
And thank you the baggie of dreadlocks I found in a drawer
while washing and folding the clothes of our murdered friend;
the photo in which his arm slung
around the sign to “the trail of silences”; thank you
the way before he died he held
his hands open to us; for coming back
in a waft of incense or in the shape of a boy
in another city looking
from between his mother’s legs,
or disappearing into the stacks after brushing by;
for moseying back in dreams where,
seeing us lost and scared
he put his hand on our shoulders
and pointed us to the temple across town;
and thank you to the man all night long
hosing a mist on his early-bloomed
peach tree so that the hard frost
not waste the crop, the ice
in his beard and the ghosts
lifting from him when the warming sun
told him sleep now; thank you
the ancestor who loved you
before she knew you
by smuggling seeds into her braid for the long
journey, who loved you
before he knew you by putting
a walnut tree in the ground, who loved you
before she knew you by not slaughtering
the land; thank you
who did not bulldoze the ancient grove
of dates and olives,
who sailed his keys into the ocean
and walked softly home; who did not fire, who did not
plunge the head into the toilet, who said stop,
don’t do that; who lifted some broken
someone up; who volunteered
the way a plant birthed of the reseeding plant
is called a volunteer, like the plum tree
that marched beside the raised bed
in my garden, like the arugula that marched
itself between the blueberries,
nary a bayonet, nary an army, nary a nation,
which usage of the word volunteer
familiar to gardeners the wide world
made my pal shout “Oh!” and dance
and plunge his knuckles
into the lush soil before gobbling two strawberries
and digging a song from his guitar
made of wood from a tree someone planted, thank you;
thank you zinnia, and gooseberry, rudbeckia
and pawpaw, Ashmead’s kernel, cockscomb
and scarlet runner, feverfew and lemonbalm;
thank you knitbone and sweetgrass and sunchoke
and false indigo whose petals stammered apart
by bumblebees good lord please give me a minute...
and moonglow and catkin and crookneck
and painted tongue and seedpod and johnny jump-up;
thank you what in us rackets glad
what gladrackets us;
and thank you, too, this knuckleheaded heart, this pelican heart,
this gap-toothed heart flinging open its gaudy maw
to the sky, oh clumsy, oh bumblefucked,
oh giddy, oh dumbstruck,
oh rickshaw, oh goat twisting
its head at me from my peach tree’s highest branch,
balanced impossibly gobbling the last fruit,
its tongue working like an engine,
a lone sweet drop tumbling by some miracle
into my mouth like the smell of someone I’ve loved;
heart like an elephant screaming
at the bones of its dead;
heart like the lady on the bus
dressed head to toe in gold, the sun
shivering her shiny boots, singing
Erykah Badu to herself
leaning her head against the window;
and thank you the way my father one time came back in a dream
by plucking the two cables beneath my chin
like a bass fiddle’s strings
and played me until I woke singing,
no kidding, singing, smiling,
thank you, thank you,
stumbling into the garden where
the Juneberry’s flowers had burst open
like the bells of French horns, the lily
my mother and I planted oozed into the air,
the bazillion ants labored in their earthen workshops
below, the collard greens waved in the wind
like the sails of ships, and the wasps
swam in the mint bloom’s viscous swill;
and you, again you, for hanging tight, dear friend.
I know I can be long-winded sometimes.
I want so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude
over every last thing, including you, which, yes, awkward,
the suds in your ear and armpit, the little sparkling gems
slipping into your eye. Soon it will be over,
which is precisely what the child in my dream said,
holding my hand, pointing at the roiling sea and the sky
hurtling our way like so many buffalo,
who said it’s much worse than we think,
and sooner; to whom I said
no duh child in my dreams, what do you think
this singing and shuddering is,
what this screaming and reaching and dancing
and crying is, other than loving
what every second goes away?
Goodbye, I mean to say.
And thank you. Every day.
---Ross Gay, "Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude" from Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude. Copyright © 2015 by Ross Gay. Reprinted by permission of University of Pittsburgh Press.
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Okay, you got me on board the Jason Todd/Jimmy Olsen rare pair train and I am dying to know anything you are willing to share about the abo idea you were thinking of! 😍 (No pressure. I feel like I am pressuring, but this pair. 😭)
Oh gosh, would Jimmy be the alpha or Jason? Or would they both be omegas? Or Jimmy an alpha that everyone mistakes for an omega or Jason an omega who everyone mistakes as an alpha or vice versa? Oh, the shovel talks from the respective friends and family! Would there be shovel talks? Wait, why do I see Jimmy helping a pregnant Jason? Like Roman or someone gets Jason pregnant and Jimmy steps up to help him with the pup since Jason is on the outs with the family and Roman is out of the picture?
Hope you don’t mind me putting them both into one post because NOW WE’RE COOKING!! :O
I was thinking all kinds of scenarios, but now I am thinking it would be cool of both were omegas. And Jimmy is a very traditionally raised one, meek and agreeable, but also trying to be stronger, to be like the person he looks up to - Lois Lane, hardass omega reporter. So, he’s trying, but it’s going slowly - he has none of Lois’ grace and smooth-talking skill and is a bit too honest to weaponize his designation like she does when necessary. He was always considered a ‘homely’ type, the kind of an omega that will do best by finding himself a mate and taking care of them and the household. Not in a medieval way or anything, but everyone that knows him knows that Jimmy is just not made for the cutthroat world of investigative journalism.
And Jimmy agrees, he wants to have a mate and a family sometimes, but he also wants more, he wants to do more, be strong enough to do good for others and being a journalist seems like the best way left to him. So, he’s trying his best to get better and stronger, but it’s a slow-going process. Perry hired him as a photographer, hoping that the boy will stay out of trouble and Lois is gently encouraging the kid, but knows that he needs to get his act together quick if he wants to survive in the world he wants to look into.
And Clark - poor Clark - is in constant conflict about Jimmy. He loves that kid and wants what’s best for him, and with the frequency he gets into trouble sometimes the best option seems to be cutting that whole journalist business in the bud and encouraging the kid chose a safer profession. But then again, Clark would never dare to do it, because Lois would bite his head off and he does want to support the boy’s dreams... it’s just that he worries so much.
And then one day, Jimmy, who was slowly coming to the realisation that he may be not good enough for the job, happens upon the Red Hood. He was in Gotham due to the yearly charity gala at Wayne’s Tech as a photographer, and while he was there to take shots of the rich and affluent, he overheard something shady and went in to investigate it in his reckless way. And he ended up in a bit of hot water - hanging off the beam in a warehouse surrounded by Black Mask’s man who are trying to decide what to do with the drugged up omega. Give him to the boss? Do away with him now? The kid has seen a deal going down, he needs to be silenced, even though he’s kind of cute...
And that’s how Jimmy meets Mr Hood in person for the first time - over a pile of beaten up thugs and crates of weapons - the vigilante taking him off the chain, careful hands checking him for injuries and a gruff voice saying “A photographer? Wow kid, you have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” before the familiar red cape appeared out of the dark and he was picked up by the familiar arms. “Whoa, Supes, I didn't do squat to your little pal so clam the fuck down! I’ve just saved his damn skin!” which was true and Jimmy wished he could confirm it. “Yeah, maybe keep of your damn omega on a shorter leash then!” which was not very true and Jimmy wished he wasn't drugged, so he could explain how he wasn't a damn pet!
And that’s how Jimmy became obsessed with Gotham’s darkest vigilante - first finding him to thank for the rescue and give him a piece of his mind, and then with uncovering the truth about him. And he did it, Jimmy uncovered the Hood’s real identity - and then spent a weekend in his room, staring at the wall, because that... that seemed impossible and so, so terrible. And it was his first successful piece of investigative journalism and he could tell no one about it - because once you got one thing right, other followed - the ever-revolving door that were Robins, suspiciously corresponding with Bruce Wayne acquiring new ‘sons’, the Batwoman disappearing roughly at the time Barbara Gordon was crippled, Bruce Wayne’s erratic behaviour and, frankly, his ridiculous persona... it all made sense and yeah, Jimmy was going to go to bed and wake up in a basement, surrounded by rich people who will disappear him form the face of the Earth.
It’s a complete accident when he happens across Red Hood again - and it’s even more of a coincidence that once more he’s inebriated and loose-tongued, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “Gosh, Mr Todd, you grew up so tall!” and it nearly gives Jason a stroke. Some sobering time in an underground safehouse later, Jimmy spills the beans and the Red Hood just - laughs. This deep, rich chuckle, and he’s like “I knew Tim could not be the only person able to connect the damn dots!” and it’s all the confirmation Jimmy needs to know that he’s about to be executed mafia-style.
Except, Mr Todd doesn't execute him. He tells Jimmy to shuffle back to Metro and if you won’t tell, I won’t tell and you can walk free, kid. Which is a very good ending to that whole story.
Except it isn't an ending, because now Jimmy is curious and invested, because Mr Hood isn’t a bad person everyone wants to make him to be. Another startling discovery is that Mr Hood (Seriously, Olsen, stop with the Mr!) is an omega.
An omega who takes no shit from anyone and is strangely invested into convincing Jimmy that he doesn't have to take it either! An omega that’s big and strong, and so terribly imposing that even Batman doesn't intimidate him and most of the alphas get out of his way, and... and that’s a very compelling image to hang in front of poor Jimmy Olsen, who night have realised that he may be a bit gay.
Oh dear.
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Sabotage
A/N: This isn’t completely finished but I have just enough for a first part and I’m hoping expecting to work the rest out fairly easy. I’ve made some cuts/changes overall (some details and notes seemed superfluous) and based on the second outline I did, we’re a quarter into the story--so I’d say at least two more parts, depending on where things cut off. I really hope you enjoy! I apologize profusely if it’s not what you expected but we’re finally rolling 😁
You can find the rest of my fics here.
@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus @lilaviolet @laurielau @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg@kneekeyta@likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger@crystalgiddings1993 @milllott @milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win@ifinallyknow@isthistherightwayround @believethaticanandiwill @my-mad-fatuation
Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)
Sabotage
“--you hear about this?”
Rae Earl awoke abruptly to her best mate Archie’s voice growing steadily closer as he entered her bedroom. Before she could speak, he shook out his paper and began to read. She tuned him out the best she could, her eyes straying to her laptop on the other side of the bed. She stretched through a yawn, glancing at the bedside clock.
“Aren’t you late?” she cut Archie off, his tongue sticking out at her. He rolled the paper up and swatted it at her before kissing her cheek and backing out of the room.
“I’ll see you tonight, yeah? Laters!”
Rae waited until she heard the front door slam shut before she reached for her laptop and opened it, tapping the keys lightly as it started up. Her desktop appeared and she clicked on her email, a smile playing on her lips as she read a new message titled, ‘Digsy’.
fknhangthedj78: Have I mentioned my dog, Digsy? She’s an old girl now but back when I was a lad, she was my partner against all the monsters under the bed and thunderstorms--always up for an adventure. Nowadays, she spends her days sleeping on my side of the bed and stealing my chips. Man’s best mate, right?
Don’t you love Stamford in autumn? Reminds me of my college days, back when the only thing you had to worry about was A-levels and who you’d ask to the leavers’ ball. Of course, had we known each other then, I reckon I would’ve asked you ;)
***
Finn Nelson’s eyes fluttered as he poured two tea cups full to the brim, his girlfriend’s monotonous voice flowing over him like a blanket. He shook his fringe out of his eyes, dropping the teapot to the table with a loud clunk. Olivia jumped, her voice tapering off. He smiled sheepishly.
“Soz, Liv,” he said through a yawn, reaching for the milk and sugar. She looked at him curiously as she reached for her cup.
“Did you sleep alright?” she asked, Finn meeting Digsy’s eyes from across the room. She blew out a sigh, side-eying Olivia before returning to her bowl. Finn coughed through a snort and nodded. She stirred sugar into her cup and took a sip.
“What day’s your dad’s rehearsal dinner again?”
Finn grimaced and rubbed his jaw.
“Sunday,” he replied, “D’ya think he’d take an early wedding present so we don’t have to go?”
“Finn, it’s your father,” she chuckled, shaking her head. Finn groaned and rolled his neck. He was thrilled his dad was getting remarried and his bride-to-be Felicity Stringfellow was perfectly nice but the thought of his college ex being his step-sister made his stomach turn.
“Don’t forget to meet Stacey Friday at noon, yeah?” she continued. Finn nodded with a pout and looked at his watch. He finished his tea off before leaning over the table to kiss Olivia’s cheek.
“Gotta go get ready,” he said, standing and going towards the bedroom, “See ya tonight.”
Finn cracked the door behind him and Digsy slid through, jumping to the bed. He sighed with a smile as she sprawled over his pillow and he sat down next to her, pulling his laptop from the side table. He sat still and waited to hear Olivia’s heels clicking down the hall and out the door before he opened it, running a finger over the mouse to wake it. His email appeared, a new message notification flashing, and he clicked it, biting back a smile as he started to read.
snakebitesupernova: Isn’t it bizarre how we never crossed paths all these years living in the same town? It feels like we’ve known each other forever, despite only having met on an Oasis fansite.
Imagine if we hadn’t argued over their best album (it’s ‘What’s the Story’ in case you forgot). Now, all I can think is, ‘Wonder what bollocks fknhangthedj78 will come up with this time!’
Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite lame enough to go to my leavers’ ball--but I reckon I would’ve made an exception for you ;P
***
Nothing could remove the smile from Rae’s face as she walked briskly to Town Records. Not spilling coffee down her front two minutes before leaving the flat. Not the neighbor’s yapping dog barking at top volume all morning. Not even the Green Lane arseholes who harassed her every other day.
“Burn down the disco,” Rae sang under her breath as she unlocked the door and entered the shop, “Hang the blessed DJ.”
She bounded around the shelves, straightening and preparing to open and Izzy, her mate and the shop’s social media manager, watched her wide-eyed.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked, laughing a bit. Rae only winked, moving to her side and linking their arms.
“Don’t you miss our college days, Iz?” she sighed, smiling as she ran over the email in her mind again. Izzy raised her brows and laughed again.
“You hated college, Rae.”
“Right,” she replied, a nervous laugh bubbling from her throat. Izzy’s eyes narrowed at her and a sly smile came across her face.
“You’re in love, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Izzy, I’m madly in love with my gay roommate, the one and only man in my life,” Rae scoffed, scrunching her nose at her.
Izzy shook her head, her smile widening.
“What about your online friend?”
Rae bit her cheek, cursing the time she’d had too many Tia Maria’s and let slip her pen pal secret.
“Don’t be ridiculous...we’re just mates—not even mates! More acquaintances,” she said hastily, waving a hand, “I don’t even know his name.”
Izzy went to speak again when the front door bell chimed and her best mate Chloe shuffled through the door, her arms wrapped around herself.
“It’s bloody freezing out there,” she started, coming behind the counter and shedding her jacket, “What’re we talking about?”
“Rae’s online friend--”
“Izzy!”
Chloe tutted and shook her head.
“Y’should try meeting people organically, babes, that internet stuff is dangerous.”
“If I did that, I’d be alone forever, Chlo,” she retorted before clapping her hands, “Let’s open up, ladies!”
***
“--electrician is gonna be late because his wife’s in labor,” Chop said, ticking items off a clipboard, “The record shelves as well--some infestation on the truck or summat.”
Finn nodded along as he continued listing issues and plans throughout the worksite, not hearing a word.
“We also got a ticket for a few workers pissing off the roof,” Chop finished, shaking his head and pulling at his tie.
“Nice one,” Finn replied, “When’s the electrician in?”
“I knew you weren’t fucking listening,” Chop groused, smacking Finn in the arm with the clipboard, “His wife’s in labor, knobhead.”
Finn reddened and he grinned sheepishly, shoving him back.
“S’pose I’m a bit distracted.” Chop waggled his brows at him.
“You finally proposed to Liv, huh?” Finn’s head snapped to him and he shook his head with a furrowed brow.
“Of course not,” he said hastily, Chop’s mouth twisting at him, “I mean, she’s great and I proper fancy her and all…”
“When she’s not boring you to tears, y’mean,” Chop continued, dodging Finn’s cuff to his shoulder.
“We need to announce ourselves,” Finn changed the subject, clapping his hands as he looked around their almost finished entertainment store.
No Crap Entertainment, better known as NCE, was set to open Saturday, provided he and Chop could work out all the kinks. His father, Gary, was trusting him with this one, since he’d proven himself well enough helping him with other business matters over the years. He’d brought Chop on as his partner and fully planned to make this the best music store in Stamford.
“There’s not much competition--we bought out that tiny reggae shop across the way. And then there’s Town Records, of course.”
Finn bit his cheek, thinking of his old college stomping grounds. He loved Town, loved the atmosphere...it hadn’t changed much since then but he knew it was under different management since Rob had passed away.
“They’re gonna hate us at first but we have the better package. We’re multifaceted,” Finn assured, clapping a hand to Chop’s shoulder, “We’re not just music--we’re an experience.”
A grin slowly grew on Chop’s face before he ruffled Finn’s hair, his nose wrinkling.
“You’re so full of shit!”
***
fknhangthedj78: My dad’s getting married again. His mates keep warning him off of it, saying he should cut his losses after the first time. He seems happy though, so I can’t complain.
Rae glanced up from her laptop, her head tilting in thought. She couldn’t imagine getting married once, let alone twice.
She looked over at Archie on the other side of the lounge, his finger twirling a ring around on his left hand as he watched the telly. She felt her throat burn and her eyes fill but quelled it when Archie met her eyes, giving her a curious look.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing...love ya, Arch.” He snorted, reaching over and squeezing her knee.
“I love ya too, Rae.”
***
snakebitesupernova: Since you mentioned college the other day, I’ve been rereading Pride & Prejudice. I can’t get over how they used to talk back then! So proper and stuffy but I love it...have you read it?
Finn opened the book to a random page, grimacing as he read a few lines. He felt Digsy next to him and he scratched her behind the ears, shaking his head at the book.
“Jesus Christ, can you believe this, girl?”
He went to the fridge for a beer and cracked it open, taking a long pull as he opened the book at the beginning. He skimmed the first page before tossing it to the counter, shooting a frown at Digsy.
“Shit’s for the birds.”
***
“Now, don’t freak out, Rae--”
“Those fuckers have some nerve--”
“It’s just a sign,” Chloe reiterated, rolling her eyes, “Y’don’t own the word ‘town’.”
“It was deliberate! ‘Best record deals in town,’” Rae ranted, crossing her arms, “This is bullshit.”
“They’ve got nothing on Town,” Archie assured, his hands going to her shoulders.
“Look at all the discounts and promotions they’re offering,” Izzy gushed, scrolling through NCE’s website in awe. She looked up when she felt the others’ stares on her and she bit her lip, setting her phone down on the counter.
“She’s right, guys,” Chloe sighed, “They have more variety as well.”
“It’s nothing but mainstream crap. They’ll come running back,” Archie countered, not sounding entirely convinced himself. Rae’s face lit up slightly.
“Exactly! We’ll be the niche shop, yeah? If they don’t have it, we do,” she exclaimed, a sliver of hope creeping back.
“And vice versa,” Chloe commented, Rae raising a brow at her.
“Right. Supply and demand.”
Chloe raised her hands, exchanging shrugs with Izzy. Archie rubbed Rae’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring smile that she could barely return.
snakebitesupernova: I can’t help but feel like I’m wasting time. I live a simple life. I made it out of hospital and college and barely made it through uni and for what? To have the same job in the same dead end town? I sometimes wish I could go back and do it all again but what would change? Change is supposed to be good... I know I should be brave and ‘roll with it’ but I’m so fucking scared
You don’t have to respond to this, I don’t mean to bang on about my existential crises but I know you’d understand better than anyone else would. You always do :)
#mmfd fanfic#mmfdfanfic#mmfdfanfiction#mmfd fanfiction#my mad fat diary fanfic#my mad fat diary fanfiction#my mad fat diary#mymadfatdiary#sabotage#youvegotmail
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*SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE*
5 PAGE ESSAY SUMARRY THINGG ON OUTCASTS HERE WE FUCKIN GO
So, let’s start with our main, beginner characters. We have Miggy, a dream man with a Kermit voice who is owner and manager of the Big Time Big Top, who can also have a short temper. (More on that later.) Next, there’s Isaac Bluu, an amazing triangle boyo who, in my opinion, seems pretty chill and adorable. He works at the Big Time Big Top as a fire dancer. I love him and I think his species is Isrep? Up next, we have 8-Ball, a mutated human who is haunted by the spirit of his sister whom he had to pull the plug on since she was dying of a disease called ‘Red Plague’ and 8-Ball didn’t have money. 8-Ball’s real name is Kenny! 8-Ball was a nickname given to him by his sister, Queen. He also works at the Big Time Big Top as a magician. And now, Giuseppe. Holy hell, do I ever love him. Giuseppe is an adorable, big, 4-year-old slime boy. He’s very energetic and if someone hurts him, I will s c r e e. He also works at the Big Time Big Top as a contortionist and has an adorable slime puppy names Giorgio, if I remember correctly. And lastly (for the time being,) we have Bojanny Bunny. I’m personally not a big fan of him but here’s info nonetheless. Bojanny is actually a dead rabbit possessed by some kind of demon.. rabbit.. thing?? He is a trapeze artist.
Now, moving onto the story. We start off with Miggy waking everyone up and talking about a festival, (which, to my knowledge, is like when they preform.) and we also learn that Isaac and 8-Ball have a rivalry going on. Miggy assigns everyone their tasks to prepare for the festival before leaving. 8-Ball is simply told to practice his act, so he decides to go find something entertaining to do so he can distract himself from his grief over Queen. He decides to go to the Fun-House, which doesn’t go too smoothly. He ain’t very entertained and can’t really go down the slide since his skin is apparently like ‘pencil grip.’ Isaac walks over and asks what’s going on since 8-Ball not being able to slide made a loud screech. 8-Ball gives a vague explanation as to what’s going on, resulting in Isaac saying, “You’re STILL depressed??”
yeah and that’s as far as I got from there so tkmeskip or something and we find everyone aside from Isaac and Miggy outside. Isaac opens the window of his trailer and basically yells at them to stfu. Turns out, everyone is excited over a new member possibly joining the Big Top. And here we find our new buddy, No-Soul. Except he doesn’t have that name just yet. We don’t know his name right now, if he has one. One thing we do know, is that he has a thick Russian accent. He is soon given his name by Isaac. He’s then asked what kind of acts he can do, and he says he can possess people. He demonstrates on our unwilling friend 8-Ball, to which everyone freaks out over. Especially seeing as he basically snapped 8-Ball’s back. Luckily, our mutated pal survived, but did throw up his usual pink-purple goop a lot. Later on, Miggy finds out, and this is where his temper goes flying. He drags 8-Ball to a private conversation, and proceeds to lose it. Turns out, No-Soul is from a place called Zlo, and Miggy happens to have a big grudge against anyone from Zlo. Miggy tells 8-Ball to get No-Soul to leave. 8-Ball breaks the news to No-Soul and Isaac says he’ll guide No-Soul off the property. Since everyone was able to hear Miggy’s snap, Isaac proceeds to rant about how unfair it is that No-Soul has to leave because of Miggy’s grudge. Then, the two decide that No-Soul can sneakily stay in the empty trailer, so they set that up and hang out together. They bond and we learn that Isaac is the big gay for No-Soul. And it looks like No-Soul is the big gay too.
Later on, 8-Ball finds out and teases the hell out of Isaac about it, and also ends up hanging out with him and No-Soul. No-Soul says that the two should make up and try to be friends, so the two sit down and talk about why they don’t like eachother, then come to a truce. No-Soul is very happy about this and they all continue to hang out.
No-Soul also helps 8-Ball with his grief and together they managed to let Queen’s spirit rest.
Now, moving on, we have another new face showing up, Ringo the clown! He had fallen into a coma, but woke up and returned to the circus. Turns out, he was good friends with Giuseppe, Bojanny, and Miggy! There’s a sweet little reunion but unfortunately, Bojanny kicks Isaac out of their shared trailer because Bojanny wants to be roommates with Ringo instead, and he isn’t nice about it. 8-Ball helps Isaac move in with No-Soul and later on, he has a talk with Ringo. 8-Ball mentions how Miggy snapped at him for letting No-Soul join the circus. Ringo goes on to explain that Miggy actually had a brother and the two sort of.. merged when they were born.
This brother’s name is Muggy, and he is a nightmare, I believe. Quite literally. He’s pretty creepy and he’s constantly on the surface of Miggy’s skin, which is the reason Miggy keeps his eyes closed and wears gloves. Ringo then has a conversation with Muggy, telling him that he shouldn’t go losing his temper on the other performers like he did with 8-Ball. For the next while, Ringo hangs out with Miggy all the way up to the festival.
Once the festival arrives, everyone is set to perform and Giuseppe’s favorite actor/cartoon, Looney Leo, shows up hosting for the radio. Giuseppe fanboys and befriends Leo before leaving out of being too nervous to talk to the ‘thousands of fans’ that we’re listening on the radio. He then calms down by talking to Giorgio and goes on to perform. During 8-Ball’s performance, 8-Ball slips into this heavy grief state or Queen starts messing with him or something since this is before Queen is put to rest. 8-Ball passes out for 3 days.
A little later, Bojanny and Ringo decide to do a special performance together. Bojanny rides a unicycle across a tight rope while Ringo sits on his shoulders, juggling knives. Unfortunately, the act goes horribly wrong, and Bojanny slips off the tightrope, causing both him and Ringo to fall. He tries to hold on while Isaac and 8-Ball try to get the mattress underneath the two to cushion the landing but sadly, they just barely don’t move in time, and Bojanny and Ringo plummet to their death. Miggy is taken to court, where he pleads guilty, and gives the Big Time Big Top to 8-Ball.
Now, I’m not entirely sure where this bit fits in but I think it’s somewhere around here???
Anyways, No-Soul had watched Isaac’s performance at the festival and learned that Isaac sometimes wore girly clothes. This goes against a strict rule or something from where No-Soul lived, so he decides to leave. He gets Isaac to meet him, and tells him that he doesn’t feel the same way Isaac does about him. Isaac is obviously heartbroken, and No-Soul leaves, leaving behind a black and red flower. On the brighter side, Isaac ends up with 8-Ball and I love them so much!!
Not too much later, though, Isaac learns that Giuseppe wants to run away. He’s sad because everyone’s been leaving and dying. He’s also sad because 8-Ball kept referring to him as ‘Queen’ and (I can only assume-) not acknowledging him for who he is. Isaac does his best to comfort Giuseppe. 8-Ball soon walks over and finds out that Giuseppe wants to leave and why he’s sad, then does his best to apologize and comfort Giuseppe. Giuseppe sort of falls apart (not really, don’t worry,) and says that he doesn’t like the feelings he’s having and wishes he was dead like Bojanny, Ringo and Queen. Isaac and 8-Ball continue to comfort and take care of Giuseppe until he feels better and they all have this big, adorable group hug that warms my heart.
Then, they all start making plans to work on the Big Time Big Top and put up ‘Help Wanted’ posters to get new employees. The comic ends with a strange man and a dog looking at one of the posters.
A lot of people have been theorizing that this dog is Bojanny- or Bo- since earlier in the comic, when the demon bunny thing takes a short break from possessing Bojanny, he mentions to Ringo that he was thinking about possessing a German shepherd in the area. I honestly don’t know if this has been confirmed but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was true.
And you wanna know something else that’s great about this series??
First of all, it’s made by an incredibly talented artist
but also, you can make your own OC’s and spin-off continuation of the comic!!
I hope you enjoyed this nearly 5 page essay thing!!
(Its 4.6 pages so I guess if you round up, it’s 5)
ALSO NO, I AM NOT READING THIS OVER BECAUSE IM LAZY
@hesitant-ghost @trashfox492
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PROFOUND MEMBER POST - NOVEMBER 2018
Header by @pantydean and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord Server!
The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in entirely during that month.
MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR NOVEMBER 2018!
Masterpost below the cut.
wargurl83 - @wargurl83
Fem Cas for Jess
Summary: Art created for Jess/Jscribbles of Fem Cas
SFW
JessJessTheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJessTheBest
Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner
Summary:
“I’m Baby Del Mar and I think y'all are mighty fine.
It’s time for ass-whooping. Who’s next in line?”
Baby Del Mar is one of the top faces in the WWE universe. But in real life, Dean Winchester is just a guy who wants to keep his personal and professional lives separate.
This turns out to be a problem for several reasons.
Tags: WWE AU, Established Relationship, WWE typical violence, discussion of past injury.
SFW
Accompanying art by @purzelndesbaeumchen
kradarua - kradarua
The Stars, They Shine
Summary:
Engineer-in-training Dean Winchester just wants to work on cars. Astronomer Castiel Novak spends his time holed up in the school’s observatory looking at the stars and trying to piece together his dissertation. They’ve never had any reason to cross paths.
Not until they get roped into participating in the college theatre group, anyway.
When Lisa invites Dean to join her at the mass meeting, he can’t say no to a pretty face. But the joke is on Dean when he accidentally lands the male lead and has to come to terms with memorizing lines and trying not to make a fool of himself on stage. Moreover, despite his best attempts to stay interested in Lisa, there’s no denying the strange gravitational pull he feels around Castiel.
Castiel is just here to prove to Charlie that he’s capable of doing something besides research; it should be easy, except he finds himself becoming interested in Dean in a way he really did not expect.
Dean is trying to navigate being way outside his skill set; Castiel just wants to hold onto his scholarship without pissing off the religious organization that gave it to him. It’s going to be a long semester, especially if Dean keeps forgetting his goddamn lines. The show must go on!
Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Theatre, Homophobia, Misappropriated Christianity, Astronomer!Castiel, Accidental Actor!Dean, Gay Panic, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, First Time
NSFW
canadduh - @canadduh - canadduh
Uncle Dean: Adventures in Babysitting
Summary:
Dean has always looked after his brother Sammy. So it was really easy to extend that care to his brother's kid. Dean watches his nephew while Sam spends five hours on self-care for the first time since the death of his wife almost six months ago.
Dean and Cas talk about the future.
Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kid!Fic, Uncle Dean Winchester, Uncle Castiel, Dean Winchester is a good Uncle, Fluff, Parent Sam Winchester
SFW
sharkfish - @reallyelegantsharkfish - sharkfish
trustworthy for such work
Summary: Cas hugs his pillow, and he’s mostly asleep when a memory works its way in. His father watching Fox news, a fearmongering piece about ifrits in healthcare. His father’s voice, saying, Blood is how they take your wishes.
Cas always assumed that meant through feeding. But —
Tags: Dragon Castiel, djinn dean, Dragons, Djinni & Genies, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Mutual Pining, Magic, Wishes, References to Addiction, References to Knotting.
NSFW
longing for grapefruit
Summary:
Dean lights up and takes the first hit, but instead of exhaling, he leans over towards Cas. It’s not a proper kiss, breathing in Dean’s air, but it’s intimate, and they take turns sharing hits in between kisses.
Cas is flying. Cas can feel everything, Cas is out of his body. “Baby,” Dean says, soft in between them. “Let me make you feel good.”
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Recreational Drug Use, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Shotgunning, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural)
NSFW
dancing backwards
Summary:
Cas hears Dean Winchester come into the bathroom, but he’s too busy fiddling with equipment to acknowledge him at first, until Dean says, “So like, is there someone I can sue when I break my ankles?”
Cas looks up to see the pair of pale pink stilettos hanging from his fingertips. The only thing he’s wearing is a long, dingy skirt with layers and layers of tulle like a tutu and dark, smudged eyeliner.
Tags: Actor Dean Winchester, Photographer Castiel, Dean Winchester in Heels, Fluff and Smut
NSFW
The Answer
Summary:
“Can I ask if you’ve done this before? BDSM shit.”
“Is it that obvious that I haven’t?”
“We were all new once,” Dean says, giving him a smile.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sex Shop, BDSM, Gentle Dom Castiel, Sub Dean Winchester, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Paddling, Face-Fucking, soft Recreational Drug Use
NSFW
overdressed and overeducated
Summary: My brother says I’m boring, Castiel wrote. Perhaps you can make me seem a little more exciting.
Tags: Stylist Dean, Cas is sad & bad at clothes, Meet-Cute, Weddings, First Kiss, Pen Pals
SFW
mittensmorgul - @mittensmorgul - MittensWraith
Lost Time
Summary: Dean figured Cas was only trying to let him down easy. He needed a little bit of time to figure out how to deal with it.
Tags: Fluff and Angst, Dean Winchester Uses Actual Words, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Newly Human Castiel, Love Confessions, First Kiss
SFW
ravenscat - @ravenscat-tumbler - ravensCAT
“They Were in the Bag!” (Panties and dildos)
Summary:
The Luggage Mixup Au no one asked for.
Basically pwp, almost, it was supposed to be and then feelings happened. Gross.
Tags: Top Cas/Bottom Dean, Rimming, Blowjobs, Shower sex, plane sex, Dean in panties, lawyer Cas
NSFW
deliciousirony - @delicious-irony - deliciousirony
Arctic Light
Summary: Art for Northern Sparrow's Under The Midnight Sun
Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Dark-Eyed Junco (Original Character), Fanart DCBB, northernsparrow, Birds, Curious Birds, Physiology Of Angels, Angel Wings, landscapes, The Arctic, Deli, SPRW
SFW
dean-bangs-cas-in-the-impala (maknatuna) - @dean-cas-in-the-impala - Dean-Bangs-Cas-In-The-Impala
October in Paris
Summary: No matter where Castiel is he always thinks about Dean.
Tags: Fluff, Romance, Friendship, Friendship that is slowly turning into romance.
SFW
EllenOfOz - EllenOfOz
For A Dream’s Sake
Summary:
Part of the DCBB 2018.
Just four ingredients is all they need to reopen the rift. Archangel grace, the Seal of Solomon, blood of a most holy man, and a fruit from the tree of life.
Castiel returns from Syria with the fruit, saying that he killed some djinn and bargained with the rest. But just what bargain did Cas make with the djinni queen? What did he experience at her hands?
Heaven's great leader of armies prides himself on his self-control, his steadfast courage under pressure. But when the djinni's dream is everything he's ever hoped for...
Tags: No Archive Warnings, canon level violence, canon verse, Djinn, angst with a happy ending, angel wings, season 13
NSFW
Accompanying art by @usarechan
Bumocusal - Bumocusual
Six Degrees of Levain
Summary: Dean has a dog that won't stop vomiting, a brother with Sasquatch hair that brings all the ladies to the yard, and is developing a particular attachment to the hot guy that jogs by his house.
Tags: Police Officer Dean Winchester, Animal Lover Castiel, Meddling Sam Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Vibrators, Anal Fingering, Anal, Kissing, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Rimming, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester
NSFW
jscribbles - jscribbles
Your Story Isn’t Over Yet
Summary:
One morning, Castiel wakes up suddenly very lady-shaped, and Team Free Will discover that a nephilim grows inside him. Sam has no idea how this could have happened considering Cas was supposed to be human, and Dean seems uninterested in finding out how or why their friend is pregnant and female - but he seems goddamn excited. Castiel retreats into himself, seemingly more depressed than usual.
Sam is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, though the others seem reluctant to discover the origin of the nephilim. Could the answer be right under his nose?
Tags: Temp MCD, mpreg (but not really), Temp Genderbend, Grace Baby, Angst, Grief, Implications of losing a child, Blood, Vomit
NSFW
supernatural9917
Cogitationes Publicae
Summary:
While organising a store room in the bunker, Dean accidentally breaks a potion bottle, and the contents leave him with no internal monologue. What secrets will be revealed when all his thoughts are laid bare?
Written for the Destiel Smut Bingo. Square fill: Consequence of a truth serum/spell
Tags: Destiel Smut Bingo 2018, Truth Serum, Dean has no inner monologue, Cas approves of this, Consequence of a truth serum/spell
NSFW
Hot for Teacher
Summary:
Castiel Novak is a young new math teacher at Lawrence High, and Dean Winchester is a popular senior in his class. Dean has a bit of a crush, and Castiel can't help but notice Dean's charms.
Written for the Destiel Smut Bingo. Square fill: hot for teacher
Tags: Destiel Smut Bingo 2018, hot for teacher, Teacher Castiel, Student Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Castiel isn't oblivious to Dean's charms
(No underage or relationship while Dean is a student)
NSFW
MalMuses - @malmuses - MalMuses
Wendig-Oh-No!
Summary: Of all the things that Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, expected to become as a human, being clumsy was never one of them.
When Sam catches the flu, Dean is forced to team up with Cas on a Wendigo hunt in snowy northern Minnesota.
It goes terribly.
Or does it?
SPN Reverse Bang fic, with art by @harplesscastiel.
Tags: Fluff, Miscommunication, Bedsharing, Camping, Human Castiel, Clumsy Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing Body Heat, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Wendigo, Hunter Castiel
SFW
Personal Space
Summary:
Dean is an astronaut, and he definitely chose the career so that he could help move humanity forward, not just because he didn't want to sit in an office, thank-you-very-much.
Becoming the first human to set foot on Mars was never part of his five-year plan, but he loved his job and couldn't say no when the opportunity arose.
He had spent plenty of time thinking about what he was risking never seeing again if something went wrong; his brother, brother-in-law, and the adorable kid they were adopting, not to mention his friends, his car, and pie.
What he hadn't considered was what, or who, he might find when he actually got there.
SPN Reverse Bang fic with art by @thefriendlypigeon
Tags: Mars Exploration AU, Astronaut Dean, Alien Castiel, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Way more feelings than you would expect, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Castiel Has Tentacles, Consentacles, Not as crazy as it sounds, Kid Jack Kline, So many references but actually not crack, Sam is a Good Brother, Jack is adorable, More Wholesome Than It Sounds, Tentacles, Tentacle Sex, Love Can Cross the Cosmos
NSFW
The Doppelganger Effect
Summary:
Dean had been having a pretty great week, all in all. There had been that case up in Dodge City where he’d worn a cowboy hat, he had made homemade burgers for dinner, and best of all? Cas was back from the Empty. Alive, unharmed, and in the bunker. Things were back to normal.
Then they showed up to ruin things—Dean and Cas, Version 2.0. They're not just different, they're happy. Not to mention very... coupley.
Thrown from their own world with magic unheard of since Purgatory, the doppelgangers need Team Free Will’s help—or is it Dean and Cas that need theirs?
Suddenly, Dean is stuck in a minivan with two angels that hate each other, a (pretty awesome) copy of himself, and his gassy little brother. Through magic mirrors, ill-advised pacts with Eldritch gods and rather too many gas-station tacos, Dean and his angel face down the past, and decide on their future.
A 2018 DCBB fic with art by EL.
Tags: Case Fic, Possession, Eldritch Gods, Car Accidents, Canon-Typical Violence, Eye Trauma, Tentacle Monsters, Horror, Canon Flashbacks, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Drinking, Pining, Slow Burn, Witches, Original Character Death(s), Mutual Masturbation, Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Casturbation
NSFW
exceptcas - @exceptcas - exceptcas
No Call
Summary:
While celebrating Sam's bachelor party in Vegas, Dean runs into Cas.
---
This is based off of the song "Closer" by Halsey.
Tags: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Bachelor Parties
SFW
Hitori-Alouette - @hitori-alouette
Can’t do it alone
Summary: Art created for the DEANCAS CREATIONS CHALLENGE
Tags: #deancascc #destiel #deancasedit
SFW
#member masterpost#member masterposts#november masterpost#profoundnet#profoundnet monthly masterpost#deancas reclist#member fic#member art
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Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
I know many people will appreciate this poem by Ross Gay, accompanied by Bon Iver in this recording (please listen, it’s on every streaming service as welli: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvG3ZCBUiXU
Friends, will you bear with me today,
for I have awakened
from a dream in which a robin
made with its shabby wings a kind of veil
behind which it shimmied and stomped something from the south
of Spain, its breast aflare,
looking me dead in the eye
from the branch that grew into my window,
coochie-cooing my chin,
the bird shuffling its little talons left, then right,
while the leaves bristled
against the plaster wall, two of them drifting
onto my blanket while the bird
opened and closed its wings like a matador
giving up on murder,
jutting its beak, turning a circle,
and flashing, again,
the ruddy bombast of its breast
by which I knew upon waking
it was telling me
in no uncertain terms
to bellow forth the tubas and sousaphones,
the whole rusty brass band of gratitude
not quite dormant in my belly—
it said so in a human voice,
“Bellow forth”—
and who among us could ignore such odd
and precise counsel?
Hear ye! hear ye! I am here
to holler that I have hauled tons—by which I don’t mean lots,
I mean tons — of cowshit
and stood ankle deep in swales of maggots
swirling the spent beer grains
the brewery man was good enough to dump off
holding his nose, for they smell very bad,
but make the compost writhe giddy and lick its lips,
twirling dung with my pitchfork
again and again
with hundreds and hundreds of other people,
we dreamt an orchard this way,
furrowing our brows,
and hauling our wheelbarrows,
and sweating through our shirts,
and two years later there was a party
at which trees were sunk into the well-fed earth,
one of which, a liberty apple, after being watered in
was tamped by a baby barefoot
with a bow hanging in her hair
biting her lip in her joyous work
and friends this is the realest place I know,
it makes me squirm like a worm I am so grateful,
you could ride your bike there
or roller skate or catch the bus
there is a fence and a gate twisted by hand,
there is a fig tree taller than you in Indiana,
it will make you gasp.
It might make you want to stay alive even, thank you;
and thank you
for not taking my pal when the engine
of his mind dragged him
to swig fistfuls of Xanax and a bottle or two of booze,
and thank you for taking my father
a few years after his own father went down thank you
mercy, mercy, thank you
for not smoking meth with your mother
oh thank you thank you
for leaving and for coming back,
and thank you for what inside my friends’
love bursts like a throng of roadside goldenrod
gleaming into the world,
likely hauling a shovel with her
like one named Aralee ought,
with hands big as a horse’s,
and who, like one named Aralee ought,
will laugh time to time til the juice
runs from her nose; oh
thank you
for the way a small thing’s wail makes
the milk or what once was milk
in us gather into horses
huckle-buckling across a field;
and thank you, friends, when last spring
the hyacinth bells rang
and the crocuses flaunted
their upturned skirts, and a quiet roved
the beehive which when I entered
were snugged two or three dead
fist-sized clutches of bees between the frames,
almost clinging to one another,
this one’s tiny head pushed
into another’s tiny wing,
one’s forelegs resting on another’s face,
the translucent paper of their wings fluttering
beneath my breath and when
a few dropped to the frames beneath:
honey; and after falling down to cry,
everything’s glacial shine.
And thank you, too. And thanks
for the corduroy couch I have put you on.
Put your feet up. Here’s a light blanket,
a pillow, dear one,
for I can feel this is going to be long.
I can’t stop
my gratitude, which includes, dear reader,
you, for staying here with me,
for moving your lips just so as I speak.
Here is a cup of tea. I have spooned honey into it.
And thank you the tiny bee’s shadow
perusing these words as I write them.
And the way my love talks quietly
when in the hive,
so quietly, in fact, you cannot hear her
but only notice barely her lips moving
in conversation. Thank you what does not scare her
in me, but makes her reach my way. Thank you the love
she is which hurts sometimes. And the time
she misremembered elephants
in one of my poems which, oh, here
they come, garlanded with morning glory and wisteria
blooms, trombones all the way down to the river.
Thank you the quiet
in which the river bends around the elephant’s
solemn trunk, polishing stones, floating
on its gentle back
the flock of geese flying overhead.
And to the quick and gentle flocking
of men to the old lady falling down
on the corner of Fairmount and 18th, holding patiently
with the softest parts of their hands
her cane and purple hat,
gathering for her the contents of her purse
and touching her shoulder and elbow;
thank you the cockeyed court
on which in a half-court 3 vs. 3 we oldheads
made of some runny-nosed kids
a shambles, and the 61-year-old
after flipping a reverse lay-up off a back door cut
from my no-look pass to seal the game
ripped off his shirt and threw punches at the gods
and hollered at the kids to admire the pacemaker’s scar
grinning across his chest; thank you
the glad accordion’s wheeze
in the chest; thank you the bagpipes.
Thank you to the woman barefoot in a gaudy dress
for stopping her car in the middle of the road
and the tractor trailer behind her, and the van behind it,
whisking a turtle off the road.
Thank you god of gaudy.
Thank you paisley panties.
Thank you the organ up my dress.
Thank you the sheer dress you wore kneeling in my dream
at the creek’s edge and the light
swimming through it. The koi kissing
halos into the glassy air.
The room in my mind with the blinds drawn
where we nearly injure each other
crawling into the shawl of the other’s body.
Thank you for saying it plain:
fuck each other dumb.
And you, again, you, for the true kindness
it has been for you to remain awake
with me like this, nodding time to time
and making that noise which I take to mean
yes, or, I understand, or, please go on
but not too long, or, why are you spitting
so much, or, easy Tiger
hands to yourself. I am excitable.
I am sorry. I am grateful.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden.
The sun has made them warm.
I picked them just for you. I promise
I will try to stay on my side of the couch.
And thank you the baggie of dreadlocks I found in a drawer
while washing and folding the clothes of our murdered friend;
the photo in which his arm slung
around the sign to “the trail of silences”; thank you
the way before he died he held
his hands open to us; for coming back
in a waft of incense or in the shape of a boy
in another city looking
from between his mother’s legs,
or disappearing into the stacks after brushing by;
for moseying back in dreams where,
seeing us lost and scared
he put his hand on our shoulders
and pointed us to the temple across town;
and thank you to the man all night long
hosing a mist on his early-bloomed
peach tree so that the hard frost
not waste the crop, the ice
in his beard and the ghosts
lifting from him when the warming sun
told him sleep now; thank you
the ancestor who loved you
before she knew you
by smuggling seeds into her braid for the long
journey, who loved you
before he knew you by putting
a walnut tree in the ground, who loved you
before she knew you by not slaughtering
the land; thank you
who did not bulldoze the ancient grove
of dates and olives,
who sailed his keys into the ocean
and walked softly home; who did not fire, who did not
plunge the head into the toilet, who said stop,
don’t do that; who lifted some broken
someone up; who volunteered
the way a plant birthed of the reseeding plant
is called a volunteer, like the plum tree
that marched beside the raised bed
in my garden, like the arugula that marched
itself between the blueberries,
nary a bayonet, nary an army, nary a nation,
which usage of the word volunteer
familiar to gardeners the wide world
made my pal shout “Oh!” and dance
and plunge his knuckles
into the lush soil before gobbling two strawberries
and digging a song from his guitar
made of wood from a tree someone planted, thank you;
thank you zinnia, and gooseberry, rudbeckia
and pawpaw, Ashmead’s kernel, cockscomb
and scarlet runner, feverfew and lemonbalm;
thank you knitbone and sweetgrass and sunchoke
and false indigo whose petals stammered apart
by bumblebees good lord please give me a minute...
and moonglow and catkin and crookneck
and painted tongue and seedpod and johnny jump-up;
thank you what in us rackets glad
what gladrackets us;
and thank you, too, this knuckleheaded heart, this pelican heart,
this gap-toothed heart flinging open its gaudy maw
to the sky, oh clumsy, oh bumblefucked,
oh giddy, oh dumbstruck,
oh rickshaw, oh goat twisting
its head at me from my peach tree’s highest branch,
balanced impossibly gobbling the last fruit,
its tongue working like an engine,
a lone sweet drop tumbling by some miracle
into my mouth like the smell of someone I’ve loved;
heart like an elephant screaming
at the bones of its dead;
heart like the lady on the bus
dressed head to toe in gold, the sun
shivering her shiny boots, singing
Erykah Badu to herself
leaning her head against the window;
and thank you the way my father one time came back in a dream
by plucking the two cables beneath my chin
like a bass fiddle’s strings
and played me until I woke singing,
no kidding, singing, smiling,
thank you, thank you,
stumbling into the garden where
the Juneberry’s flowers had burst open
like the bells of French horns, the lily
my mother and I planted oozed into the air,
the bazillion ants labored in their earthen workshops
below, the collard greens waved in the wind
like the sails of ships, and the wasps
swam in the mint bloom’s viscous swill;
and you, again you, for hanging tight, dear friend.
I know I can be long-winded sometimes.
I want so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude
over every last thing, including you, which, yes, awkward,
the suds in your ear and armpit, the little sparkling gems
slipping into your eye. Soon it will be over,
which is precisely what the child in my dream said,
holding my hand, pointing at the roiling sea and the sky
hurtling our way like so many buffalo,
who said it’s much worse than we think,
and sooner; to whom I said
no duh child in my dreams, what do you think
this singing and shuddering is,
what this screaming and reaching and dancing
and crying is, other than loving
what every second goes away?
Goodbye, I mean to say.
And thank you. Every day.
- Ross Gay
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I'll be there for you
No warnings. SamxJess pairing, i do not own the charachters or the episode this is copied after (season 1, home) Over the next several months of traveling with Jess and his brother, Sam noticed how different Dean was, mostly how Dean seamed to shy away from women desperate for a quick lay, instead of seducing them. Dean stuck more to hustling pool and winning poker.
"Are you gay now?" Sam asked his brother after the case of the hookman, and he didn't even flirt with the collage girls. Dean gaped at his little brother.
"...the hell..." Dean mused slowly.
"Do you have a girl friend?" Sam probed on. Dean bitch faced his brother and heades for the bathroom door.
"Ok we're done talking... Jess control your man." Dean remarked.
"Give me a pair of hand cuffs and i will." Jess smirked. Dean smirked at his brother, giving him a hidden thumbs up and left the room.
"Be done by the time I get out this time." Dean smirked, and Sam scowled as Dean shutthe door. "Dont for get to suit up first, Sammy." Dean called through the door turning the shower on.
"I'm sorry, Jess." Sam groaned.
"Why is Dean so closed off." Jess asked.
"Life of a hunter, babe." Sam explained simply. Jess frowned.
"You aren't like that." She proclaimed.
"I was... two years ago, when we first met." Sam answered.
"Dean isnt nearly as stubborn as you, he'll be an easy nut to crack." Jess pulled Sam on to the bed and straddled his lap. Sam stares up at her his hazle eyes going soft.
"I dont know what I'd do with out you." Sam whispered to her. She smiled sand held his face tenderly in her hands.
"Mmmm, crash and burn." She replied over his. Sam held her close and kissed her letting her know just where he wanted this to go.
"Easy there, Sam." Jess smiled pulling away, Sam groaned loudly, "You need to sleep before I pull out the handcuffs."
"What makes you think after all this time I'll be the one in cuffs?" Sam smirked.
"Maybe living a hunters life has brought out the beast in me." She giggled stripping to her underwear and diving under the covers.
"Damn woman you cant keep teasing me like this." Sam chuckled hugging her closely.
"Go to sleep Sam, you get a good night's sleep and we'll dicuss the cuffing arrangements." Jess sighed getting comfortable in Sam's arms.
Jess awoke in ths middle of the night to Sam having a nightmare. She sat up and saw Dean watching, worry etched into his forehead.
"Should i wake him?" Jess whispered. Dean shrugged helplessly.
"Shhh, its ok Sam." Jess soothed a hand down Sam's arm, the young man calmed slightly and fell back in to a restful sleep. Jess looked up at Dean and shrugged with worry.
"He's a tough kid." Dean nodded settling back down into his bed.
The next morning Sam sat quietly on his and Jess's bed sketching something, while Dean rattled off cases they could work.
"Sacramento man shoots himself in the head three times..." Dean said enthusiastically, only to have Sam remain silent, "any of these things blowing up your skirt pal?"
"Maybe we should take a break for awhile.
"Wait I've seen this." Sam mutteres bolting out of bed and rummaged around for thier dads journal.
"Seen what?" Dean questioned. "What are you doing?"
"Dean, I know where we have to go next." Sam answered.
"Where?"
"Back home... back to Kansas." Sam explained. Dean glanced to Jess awkwardly.
"Ok random... where did that come?" Dean muttered.
"Ok this photo was take in front of the old house, the house mom died in?" Sam asked.
"Yeah..." Dean answered tightly.
"It didnt burn down right? I mean not completely? They rebuilt it, right."
"Yeah i guess so. Why? What the ya talkin bout?" Dean answered getting really lost.
Ok tjis is gonna sound crazy, but i think the people who live in our old house... i think they might be in danger." Sam stated.
"What makes you think that, babe?" Jess questioned.
"Uhh... i just... uhh... look just trust me on this ok."
"Ok... woah woah... trust you?" Dean questioned following Sam as he started packing.
"Yeah."
"Come on man thats weak. You gotta give me more than that." Deans voice raised slightly, getting frustrated with his brother.
"I can't really explain..." Sam mumbled.
"Well tough!" Dean proclaimed. Jess scowled at the older Winchester.
"Watch it Dean." She snapped. Dean glanced at her but ultimately ignored her.
"We arent going any where until you have a better explination than 'trust me." Dean stated firmly. Sam sighed and looked to Jess who still was glaring at Dean.
"I have these nightmares..." Sam started.
"We've noticed..." Dean crossed his arms nodding to Jess.
"...And sometimes... not always... they come true." Sam explained, pocketing his hands, head and shoulders slumping.
"Come again?" Dean almost laughed.
"I believe him." Jess cut in, "we should go to Kansas." She stated.
"Come on, people have wierd ass dreams all thw time. I have a friend who dreamed she worked at KFC with Todd the wraith from Stargate Atlantis." Dean exclaimed.
"Five months ago i didn't believe in monsters. But since you interupte our lives I've questioned everything ive ever believed in! We were attacked by a windingo, ghost water child, plane demons, thee bloody mary, a shapeshifter, and a swarm of fucking nasty killer bugs!" Jess ranted, "dont you think its probable that maybe Sam could be having dream visions." Jess snapped.
"Sam i can't go backthere
"We are going to check on this family in Kansas, Dean." Jess stated firmly. Dean swallowed hard and nodded.
"Ok, I'll go get the car ready." Dean nodded walking out.
"Thank you, Jess." Sam sighes. She smiled and kissed his cheek.
"Tell me about what happened to your mom as we get ready to go. "
Dean leaned heavily on the impala, trying to catch his breath. He pulled out his phone. He psusef over dads name in his contacts then scrold back up to the C's. He dialed the number and waited.
"Ello beastie!" The chippet voice brought a smile to Dean's worried face.
"Hey Cali. It's always good to hear from ya." Dean smiled.
"You sound a bit worried... what's up." She questioned.
"Sam wants to go home..."
"To Stanford? I dont think that's such a good idea. Everyone there thinks they died when the house burnt down." Cali explained urgently.
"No... not stanford... home... Kansas... where mom..."
"Oh...." she interuptsd with comprehension. "I thought you swore you were never going back there."
"I did, but Sam had a nightmere someone dies in the house... so he and Jess out voted me... son of a bitch, i feel like a third wheel with these two..."
"I know what you mean... anyway back to Kansas, huh? When are you guys leaving..."
"As soon as they pack up..." Dean answered, sighing heavily.
"Ok Dean take a deep breath and relax. Everything is gonna be ok." She assured. Dean took a deep breath and nodded.
"Ok, i gotta go." Dean hung up as Sam and Jess walked out of the room.
When they got to Lawrence they found Missouri. Before they knocked the door opened.
"Don't just stand there gaping get on in here." Missouri ordered turning away from them. "close the door Dean, and quit your cussin'." Missouri ordered.
"I didn't say anything." Dean argued, following Missouri into the living room.
"Missouri is a very inept type of psychic from Africa."
"Cali?" Dean questioned. "Wh... what are you doing here? in Kansas?" He asked.
"You called... and you sounded really upset. So I'm here." Jess cooed loudly earning a glare from both Dean and Cali. "...and made apple pie." Cali finished with a smile setting a plate of the warm food in frontof him. Dean eagerly took a bite groaned in apprciation.
"Ok let's talk about the case." Cali smiled. "I'll keep it distracted while you four get the purification bags in the walls..."
"How are you going to keep it distracted." Jess asked.
"Well I..." Cali started glancing at Dean who was sti stuffing his face.
"Leave that part of the plan up to ms. Cali." Missouri stated. "Now when it realizes whats going on things will get ugly."
Cali fought the seemingly invisible foe easily. She shook her head following its movement's.
"I can see you stupid." She smirked.
"What are you." It hissed.
"Im the nightmere to nightmares like you." She replied.
"Your eyes are black as a demons." It hissed circling her.
"A, they arent actually demons per se... and B, I'm WAY worse for you than a demon." She smiled. It remained silent a long moment.
"GRIMM!" It snarled.
"Bingo bitch!" She laughed then grunted as it used its telekinesis to push her back. "Are you guys done yet!" Cali bellowed.
"Just finished." Dean reported.
"It didn't work."Cali grunted.
"It had to of worked!" Missouri proclaimed.
"NO!" Cali exclaimed as Sam and Dean slamed up to the wall. "Leave them alone!" She shouted pushing against the poltrigists telekinesis. Next thing Dean knew thw force on his chest was gone ad Cali chopped the things head off with a long silver triangular shaped blade. She huffed and looked at her companions.
"Damn!" The brothers said at the same time.
"Fat lotta good you twits did." She snorted.
"That it? Its over?" Jess panted. @strangeangel99 @clockworkmorningglory
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