great writers

Tread Softly

destiel, PG-13, 2.1k

Written for Round One of The Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt by @mittensmorgul
Prompt: There Is Only One Bed (trope) + Castiel (for whatever reason) wears different clothes

This started out cracky & light but then ended up so fluffy and kind of as a love letter to Misha’s thighs #sorrynotsorry


“I just don’t see why this is necessary,” Castiel said, fussing with the lace-trimmed skirt of the champagne white taffeta dress he was currently wearing. “Or why it couldn’t be you or Sam.”

“I told you, Cas.” Giggle. “The bridal store didn’t carry anything off the rack in mine or Sam’s size.” Snort. “And you know we’ve tried to draw the ghost out in other ways but they didn’t take.” Snicker. “Sorry buddy.” Chortle. “I promise I’ll be the bait next time.”

“I would appreciate it if you tried a little bit harder to contain your laughter.” The petulant tone in Castiel’s voice was the last straw, and Dean burst out in laughter.

“Come on Dean, not cool,” Sam said, throwing a sympathetic look at Castiel. The effect was somewhat marred by the fact his lips were twitching as he tried to contain his mirth.

“Just look at him,” Dean managed to say in between gasps and wheezes. “Oh fuck my stomach hurts.” He tried to catch his breath.

“Serves you right,” Castiel grumbled, thoroughly unamused. “Let’s just get this over with. Sam, my veil, please.” He held out his hand for the white accessory.

Sam gave it to him, and then went over to his laptop to check if the hidden cameras they’d placed inside the chapel were running. They both ignored a still recovering Dean, who was wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Okay, all the cameras look fine, and it’s-“ he checked his watch. “Ten to nine. Showtime, Cas. Good luck.”

“Yeah Cas,” Dean said, clapping the ex-angel on the back, “I’m sure it’ll go fine. You’re the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen – dude won’t know what hit him.”

Oh if looks could kill, and if Castiel still had his grace, Dean would be a small pile of dust on the floor. Or possibly sprayed into little pieces all across the walls and ceiling.

“I will remember this, Dean. And I have a very long memory.” With that, Castiel stalked off without another word.

Ganking the ghost turned out to be a piece of cake. It had fallen for Castiel’s disguise easily and had revealed the location of the special object that kept it tethered to the human world (a brooch of a blue delphinium flower, obviously meant to be the ghost’s “something blue”). The brooch was swiftly torched by Sam, vanquishing the ghost before it could really cause much damage to any of them.

Afterwards, the three returned to the motel they were staying in (the only one in the small town), ready to call it a night. Castiel’s dress was torn at the right sleeve and caked with dirt at the hem, but otherwise had it held up remarkably well. Good quality fabric, Dean found himself thinking.

Their rooms (they had enough money now to get three singles) were at the end of the hallway past the check-in desk. When they entered, the girl at the registration desk - ‘Jeanine’, her nametag read - actually squealed, clapping her hands and looking very excited.

“There you are! You look beautiful! How was the wedding?”

The three were stunned in the face of so much enthusiasm.

“Um…” Dean stammered. “Good, it was…good.” He realized (too late) that he’d been holding Castiel’s arm, and abruptly let go.

“Brilliant! We haven’t had a wedding in town for ages! So good you were able to find a dress in Maggie’s store,” Jeanine continued, oblivious to their bewilderment.

“Yeah, um, great. Thanks. Look, we’re very tired, so we’re just gonna…” Dean gestured towards their rooms, and the three started moving again. But Jeanine jumped in front of them, holding out a hand to stop them.

“Wait! We’ve got a surprise for you!”

Dean did not like the sound of that. In their line of work, surprises usually had teeth or claws and tended to be quite painful. It had given him a healthy dislike of them.

“Our owners just love a good romance, and y’all looked so cute picking out a dress they wanted to do something special for you,” Jeanine continued, her eyes sparkling. “And of course we wanna show the world that we are 100% gay friendly and we support all forms of love, so if y’all could leave a good Yelp review, that’d be awesome!”

Dean gave Sam a look as if to say, ‘is this going where I think it’s going?’

“So we’ve moved the two of you-“ she gestured towards Dean and Castiel, ”to the bridal suite - free of charge of course! Surprise!”

If Sam didn’t value his life as much as he did, he would have commented on the way the blushes on Dean and Castiel’s face matched perfectly. As it was, he slapped his hand across his mouth to stop the giggles from escaping.

“Wow…you really didn’t have to do that,” Dean managed to choke out. His face was rapidly reaching dangerous levels of purple.

“It’s just that we’ve, uh, decided to wait, to, uh, you know.” Dean’s hands flailed uselessly. He couldn’t even finish that sentence - it would end him.

“Oh!” Jeanine’s face fell and she looked contrite. “I’m so sorry, we had no idea!  It’s just that we already rented out the two other rooms to new guests, and now we’re completely full…” Her eyes were downcast and she looked almost close to tears.

Dean just wanted this whole moment to be over so he could start erasing it from his memory. Which was the only reason (thank-you-very-much) he spoke up and said, “Look, it’s fine, we’ll somehow manage to keep our hands off each other.” He even managed a smile at Jeanine and someone should give him a medal for that. “Where is it?”

“Wonderful!” As if it had never left, the smile was back as Jeanine produced a key from her pocket. “It’s just down that hall, the last door on your left.” She pointed towards the hall on the right of the hall Sam would be sleeping in.

“C’mon Cas let’s go,” Dean grumbled. He grabbed the key from Jeanine’s hand and started walking in the direction she’d pointed at.

“Dean.” Castiel spoke up for the first time this entire disaster of a conversation, which made Dean realize he hadn’t even seen the his reaction to all this yet. When he looked at Cas (expecting to see a really pissed off, glowering ex-angel) he only saw faint embarrassment and…shyness?

“What about our bags?” And that was it. No protestation, no comment on the current situation, nothing. Just Castiel being his practical self.

“Oh, we already put them in the room; hope you don’t mind.” Jeanine beamed at them, and behind her, Sam gave them both a thumbs up. Dean nodded stiffly, grabbed Castiel’s elbow and started dragging him towards the room.  The sooner he could get away from Sam’s unbearably smug face and Jeanine’s chipper attitude, the better. He’d get his revenge on Sam later.

Walking into the room, the first thing he noticed was that it…wasn’t that bad, actually. No heart-shaped bed, no pink wallpaper or pillows or anything. The color scheme was centered on soft blue tones mixed with a splash of aquamarine in the accessories. It was tastefully decorated, and the bed looked like it might have a memory foam mattress, a theory which Dan could not wait to test out.

He let out a sigh of relief, feeling calmer already. “At least it doesn’t look like a bridal magazine threw up on it,” he said, earning a grimace from Castiel for his colorful choice of words.

Dean gestured towards the bathroom. “Go ahead and shower first. Out of all of us, the ghost got you the worst.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re okay, right? Nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises?”

“Yes, Dean, I’m fine.” Castiel’s tone was fond, and he looked slightly exasperated yet pleased by Dean’s concern. He didn’t move towards the bathroom, though. Just turned around and put his back to Dean.

“You’ll need to help me with this dress,” he said. “It was not made to be taken off by oneself.”

Dean suspected Castiel didn’t realize quite how true that was, and he suddenly felt nervous. But he could hardly refuse to help him, so he walked up to Castiel and reached for the row of buttons that started at Castiel’s upper back.

The buttons were small and there were many of them. The taffeta was slightly slippery, and Dean was not used to such a delicate task, so it took him longer than it probably should have. Inch by inch, Castiel’s tanned skin was exposed, revealing just how well he kept his body in shape. Dean rarely had the chance to see Castiel like this, and he couldn’t help but let his hands linger here and there, brushing over the lace trimmings and ghosting over the skin beneath.

Dean was so focused on his task, he’d failed to notice the silence between them. As he took care of the last button and slowly released the material, he became aware of the change in the atmosphere. It was heavier than before. Expectant.

“There, all done.” The words came out soft and husky. Dean took a step back and could not stop himself from admiring the view. He was only human, after all, and he’d dare anyone to look away from Castiel grabbing the fabric with both hands and pushing it down over his hips,  shaking them a little to help the dress slide down easier.

A soft moan escaped Dean’s lips as those thick, muscled thighs were revealed. He longed to run his hands over them, to caress, squeeze, worship.

A low chuckle made him snap his eyes back up to meet with Castiel’s, who was casting a knowing look over his shoulder at him. No use in trying to hide what he’d been looking at, then.

“See anything you like?”

Dean could never resist a challenge like that. Whatever could be said about him, he always gave as good as he got.


He wasn’t into the dress though, not really; it wasn’t even the right size. But the quiet confidence with which Castiel wore the garment, the way the fabric had felt under Dean’s touch and the way Castiel’s hands had smoothed over it…Dean was a tactile man, always had been, and it was impossible for him to stay unaffected in the face of such sensuality.

“Then touch me,” Castiel said simply, turning around to face him and opening his arms in an invitation Dean was powerless to resist. Two paces forward brought him into Castiel’s personal space, stepping on the dress still pooled at Castiel’s feet.

He raised his hand but stopped just short of touching Castiel, suddenly unsure again. They stood there, frozen, for five, six, seven heartbeats.

As always, Castiel saved him from his indecision. He pulled Dean against him, snaked an arm around his waist, and met his lips in a slow, deep kiss. Dan could only whimper in response to the way Castiel so effortlessly took control of the kiss. Castiel’s arm around him tightened at the sound, and his hand came up to cup Dean’s cheek.

This was so very different from the few stolen kisses they’d shared in the heat of the moment after a hunt in the last few weeks. They hadn’t talked about it at all, and of course Sam had no idea yet. Honestly, Dean sometimes felt that they had no idea what they were doing.

But in this moment, Dean felt them teetering on the edge of something new, something more. And though he was ashamed to admit it – never would out loud - it scared him.

“Cas…We can’t….” he moaned brokenly against Castiel’s lips. “I’m not…”

Castiel broke away and shushed him with a finger, gently rubbing it over his reddened lips.

“I know. Not here, not now. It isn’t the time.” He gave Dean one more lingering kiss. “Will you just take me to bed?” Dean shuddered at the tenderness in his voice and the naked longing for simple affection in his eyes.

“We still need that shower, Cas,” he murmured, burying his head in Castiel’s neck.

“Quickly, then.” Castiel laughed softly, squeezing Dean one last time before letting him go.

Later, when they lay in bed together with Dean’s back to Castiel’s chest, Dean was softly stroking the arm that Castiel had slung across his waist, quietly enjoying the closeness and the feeling of security between them.

“You lied to Jeanine, you know,” Cas mumbled.

“Huh?” Dean murmured sleepily.

“We didn’t manage to keep our hands off each other.” Dean could hear the satisfaction in Castiel’s voice. Warmth suffused his entire body, and he smiled softly, although Castiel could not see his expression.


“Love you too, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t say it back, not yet, but it didn’t make him anxious. They had time - Castiel understood him, and he was going nowhere.

It was the best night’s sleep Dean had ever had.

[tag list under the cut]

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This is for @mittensmorgul‘s Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt - Round 1.

Han and Chewie vs. He-Man (ao3)

When Charlie calls the boys in to help with a hunt at Comic-Con, they aren’t expecting Cas’s coat to be such a hindrance.

It’s been an exhausting day, and they’ve gotten nowhere. Dean had had no idea that comic conventions could get so crowded, and with Charlie busy, she isn’t on hand to point them in the right direction.

“Look,” she’d said, when she called them in, “I’m pretty sure it’s just a run-of-the-mill ghost type problem, and I could totally take care of it myself, but I’m a guest handler this time, and I’ve been assigned to Gillian Anderson. So please, please, please? I cannot miss this opportunity.”

“We’ll be there,” Dean had promised, and so here they were, standing in an absolute sea of nerdery – and man, did Dean wish they had the time to examine some of the costumes, because wow – without any idea where to begin.  

It doesn’t help that they can’t seem to go more than a few feet without someone accosting Cas to compliment him on his Constantine cosplay, although at least one person had called him the Doctor, someone had asked if he was something called Blacksad, and a couple of teenage girls, wearing a frankly alarming amount of plaid, had squealed and asked him if he was Castiel, while he stared frozen at them, like a deer in headlights.  

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(Amazing) To Be Alive

we all are…
amazing to be alive
we are more than what we are
we can be…
we can have our dreams
see others sail on their hope filled seas
we can have most anything
if we sew seeds that take heed
pay attention to love
to passion and its purpose
that’s all we ever really need
is to be…
love is our greatest key
it’s what fulfills that fire-spirit
that burns at the core of you and me
it’s our our light, our warmth, our glow
our fuel for eternity

FollowCB | Copyright 2017

So a few shout outs...

@malpractician is like…super fucking smart, a talented artist with both traditional art and SMF. She’s also fearless person. Also…awesome gamer who gets like adorably scared with horror games. Someone who’s so fun to hang out with, you have no idea. I got to spend time with her last year and it was so fun! She has such a great smile when she’s happy and such a lust for life :D

@charspurpletooran is a good artist, super smart on reptiles stuff, an awesome gamer and fierce as hell!

  @markingatlightspeed is an fantastic writer, larp prop maker extraordinar and someone who I desperately want to treat to a burger and drinks this year.

 @kitt-hawke is a sweet heart. Hands down. Great gamer and all around awesome person. Lives someplace I want to visit so I hope to meet her sometime soon.

 @sillyscrunchy is a great writer. Hands down. great sense of humor and I wish I could get to know them better.    

@tastytexan is a great artist. Wonderful imagination and always trying to improve. I want to get back over to England if for no other reason then to meet him and @daskingu because they both are awesome people.

@shadowenza is talented as hell with SFM. Seriously. Her Casino Scout and Dragon Tamer work is phenomenal. She was the first one to make whole new worlds for me in SFM.

@oddport-fiction : What can I say? My twin and one of the best writers in my honest opinion. She’s smart, witty, got a brain going a mile a minute and is always willing to try new things.

@luntian-berdengguhit is like…candy in human form. So sweet, talented and always a treat to see when they post. I love their chibi art and the expressions they do are so cute! If you like cute things, check them out!

@dystopian-wasteland always finds odd yet interesting things! Animals, video games…pretty much anything they find is so cool! Very friendly too!

@wankadoodles is such a great artist. Has a wonderful feel of 1980’s colors and it fits so well for Payday stuff!

@daskingu is one of the best artists I’ve seen in regards to color work! There’s so much vibrant color and fantastic expression that…well fuck I get so jealous at it!

@sinuswave is like…so talented. Like seriously talented! She does such great whimsical stuff that I can’ t even imagine it!

So that’s my call out for right now! All of these people are worth checking out and following! I’m so glad that I’ve met them and have been able to start calling them friends (or at least good aquatinces ) in the last two years. So yeah…go check ‘em out!   

Originally posted by 30ansinterminableadolescence

Star vs the Forces of Evil Culture Clash ideas

I absolutely suck at drawing, and my handwriting is even worse. So rather than try to draw something that’s sub-par, I wrote something. However I’m also not a great fiction writer (I’m trying, though); I’ve written news stories for my local NPR market and even for national broadcast. Because of this I really didn’t want to attempt to write a story and have it turn out only, in a word, meh.

So I present to you my random thoughts I jotted down for Wholesome Week’s culture clash. I know it’s not what you’re necessarily looking for but I thought I’d give it a try.

Story idea for culture clash:

Star vs the forces of evil meets King of the Hill. Hank goes to mewni, meets street cloak guy who tries to sell him things made out of bone. “bwahaa-aaaah!” “I’m going to kick your ass!”

Other side: River and moon visit Texas (Arkansas) in the summer for reason (Diamond mine, famous hot springs baths, Bill Clinton being a leader that possibly brokered peace and visiting his museum. That and he was a lady’s man and River took a liking to his laid-back and restless attitude). “why is it so damn hot?!“  you’re in the South, your majesty, this is a typical weather day for the summer.” temp is 105+ (celsius as well).

Moon and River see an Alligator for the first time.

River sees the Clinton museum and says it’s too small for something like him, he would need it to be a complete bridge across the river (implies his name and its location).  “right now it looks like a glass trailer (mobile home) on stilts.” someone says.  “yeah, yeah, don’t remind us…” says a local, clearly embarrassed by the reputation Arkansas has preceed it.

They try Catfish for the first time, bbq, sweet tea and cheese dip as well. Mention Arkansas is the inventor of cheese dip (queso) and how Marco would love this (or does love it).  They also fall in love with the southern accents, “Mr. I ain’t got no accent,” says a local redneck. “you’s the one what got that funny accent, and we don’t let no foreigners in here!” *spits*.  River kicks his ass.

River is fascinated by the C-130s at the Little Rock Air Force Base and their mission of helping train other countries how to use the C-130s to deliver supplies and aid. “why would you ever want to help another country, when you can just as easily conquer them?” “you…. HELP your citizens?! ”


@giancarlovolpe I’d especially like to know what you think since you worked on both shows.

@areablog @anomalyah @skleero

Thanks all!

no offense but here are some things need to go away:

-autoplay !!!!!! (Make it super quiet or not auto at all. Jesus christ. It gives me a panic attack every single time i click on a blog.)
-the idea that bc you have good graphics you are a great writer!!!
-ridiculously complicated themes relax
-that includes really really small unreadable text
-pls yall i hate to sound bitchy but p l e a s e

anonymous asked:

just wondering!! is jimin going to start getting a teeny bit jealous of the heroine's private dances in Sin City? 👀👀

I JUST FINISHED SIN CITY AND IM DED BC ITS SO GOOD AND YOURE SUCH A GREAT WRITER AND I LOVE THE STORY AND IM DONE. Is it the end of the story? Lol I forgot to check when you updated 😅

Thank you, I’m glad you like the story!! :) No, the series is not completed yet. And about Jimin… Maybe. There will be more talk about the private dance in the chapter. Also, Jimin may be a bit jealous, but he isn’t really possessive, so he will most likely get over it.

She got me praying all hours of the night, say she want my heart, She pulling me to the river, drawing me with her siren's call, Done gave her my heart but now she wants my soul, Well I already sold it to the man in red, "Fell in love with your charm," but its a curse; cos am dead, Girl you're not who you say, bad girl they say you are Innocence isn't where am at, wear your crucifix bae Don't make me out all serious bonnie, slave to this bad religion, Unrequited love, praying at my shrine, cos I don't have a heart Like a dead man walking, I lay at your side, Make sure you're alright in my world, atleast that for you girl,

I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul

Is Bed Sharing Altruistic?

Part One of the Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt

In a rare twist of fate, Castiel was actually in the same vicinity as the Winchesters when another mass hunter’s gathering was announced. Evidently other hunters had no problem with networking. According to Mary, the gatherings happened at least once a month, with plenty of hunting tips, advice for hospitals that would look the other way with injuries and, more importantly, plenty of free beer.

While Dean still preferred to keep his distance, Sam rather enjoyed the few gatherings they’d manage to attend. In part because the guy geeked out over any transfer of knowledge, and in part because a certain Eileen was often present as well.

“Besides,” Sam argued as he packed his duffel, “It would be nice for other people to meet Cas for a change, being an angel and all.”

Dean glared. Sam had a good point. “Fine,” he muttered, before turning to Cas, who merely watched their conversation with confusion, “But we’re going to get you in some new clothes before we go.”

“Why?” Castiel tilted his head, protectively brushing his white and blue striped tie.

“Cuz we want you to come off as relatable,” Dean rolled his eyes, “And you aren’t doin’ that looking like an accountant. So.” He gestured vaguely with his hands in an attempt to make his point.

Castiel opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something to say before meekly poking his head into Sam’s closet instead. Sam chuckled, setting down a shirt he was folding. “You’ll have better luck wearing Dean’s stuff.”

With a very serious expression, Castiel emerged from the closet with a nod and wordlessly made his way into Dean’s room.

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lena luthor has reached peak asami sato

✓ ceo

✓ engineer/science nerd

✓ money

✓ family drama

✓ powerful business wardrobe aesthetic

✓ completely in awe of the main heroine

Just think about Will going to high-five Eleven for the first time and the look of utter confusion on her face. Will taking her hand and gently hitting it against his in what he tells her is a “high five” (“You hit someone five times?” “Well, no…it’s because you have five fingers.”) Lucas being the initiator of fist bumps, accompanied by a “whoosh” for added effect that makes El’s eyes widen in curiosity. Dustin initiating a “super secret (and elaborate) friend handshake” that must be carried out every time they meet. El assuming that such a handshake is necessary to greet everyone she meets and is absolutely puzzled beyond belief when Ted Wheeler does not reciprocate it. Will and El coming up with their own intricate sibling handshake (which, of course, is shared with Jonathan and Joyce, “cool mom of the century”). El tries to teach this family tradition to Dad Hopper, who utterly cannot keep up with the complicated gestures, so they settle with a simple, regular handshake (ordinary on the outside, but full of love and meaning) and El always giggles softly at the exchange

Bonus: El taking after Steve’s greeting of a playful arm punch and hitting him back just a little too hard (not that he says anything as to not hurt her feelings, but he has a bruise for a week and Nancy does not hear the end of his whining)

(From a lovely conversation with the always amazing @theamiableanachronism)

Sometimes, it’s not quite enough.

It’s never enough, to be perfectly honest, but there are days when that longing is magnified, and the gnawing feeling of missing someone fills him until he can’t breathe.

There are the phone calls, text messages, hand written notes, snap chats, and skyping in the evening when Jack has the hotel room to himself, but some nights, the distance between them seems even longer than it really is.

It’s nearly morning, and it is quiet except for the hum of the plane engine and the snores of the passengers around him. Jack is awake even though he’s exhausted and more than a little bruised from the last game.

He turns on his phone and rereads the last message Bitty sent him before he’d boarded. It’s an enthusiastic text filled with entirely too many exclamation marks and emoticons followed by a selfie of Bitty’s bright grin.

Something settles in Jack, and he smiles to himself. Taking a steadying breath, he closes his eyes and holds onto the image of Bitty as he relaxes his shoulders.

The miles between them are shortening, and with every beat of his heart, it’s a step closer to home, to Bitty.