cathybites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cathybites) wrote2006-02-21 08:23 pm
cathybites) wrote2006-02-21 08:23 pm
(no subject)
catching up on ficlet requests. no, i'm not going in order because i'm ornery that way.
for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spacedye_vest:
socks
[remus/sirius, r]
Remus had cold feet.
Not in a 'scared and running far far away from all of this' way (which wouldn't have surprised Sirius because that had been his reaction the first time he kissed Remus. A second or two of floating through the air with the joy of it all and then three days of mind-numbing panic, after which James found him hiding in the astronomy tower and boxed his ears, telling him to stop being a stupid git), but in an actual physical way (which did surprise Sirius because Remus was like a human furnace, just radiating heat at all times. It made for pleasant winter nights, but sometimes in the summer it was all Sirius could do to keep from dunking Remus in the cold waters of the lake).
There would be nights when they would lie in bed, Remus draped over Sirius, all that golden heat just pressing against his skin. His mouth would trail kisses along Sirius' jawline and down his throat, tiny little sparks of heat blazing over Sirius' skin. Remus' hands would be everywhere, setting Sirius' blood boiling, hot and demanding as they pulled and prodded and rearranged Sirius to Remus' liking.
And Remus' cock, burning against Sirius' own, almost searing, branding Sirius wherever it touched. When Remus fucked him, it was like something molten being pressed into him, filling him up with fire and heat and a white-hot intensity that blinded him from within.
Sirius would be lost in all that heat, skin on fire and mind melting from the way Remus touched him, and then he'd brush against one of Remus' feet, icy cold in comparison to how *hot* everything else was, and the shock of it would short-circuit Sirius' brain and he'd wake up to Remus snoring and a sticky mess on his belly.
Not something that he could really complain about (which, Sirius thought, showed exactly how much he cared about Remus because if there was one thing that Sirius Black could do, it was complain. About anything. *Anything*) but after the first several times, Sirius decided that it would be nice to actually be conscious for his orgasms. He'd heard that they were better that way.
So when he set the parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of Remus, and Remus raised an eyebrow but opened it quickly, and Sirius waited nervously because what if Remus didn't understand and he'd have to explain and it pissed Remus off, and Remus just stared at the thick wool socks for a moment and didn't say anything, and Sirius was ready to crawl into a cave and just *hide* from everyone for a year, and Remus finally looked at him and grinned and pounced, Sirius found out that, yeah, they were *much* better that way.
forcosmic:
expecting
[sam/dean, r]
"Not a word. Not one fucking word," Dean growled, jabbing his finger into Sam's chest with each word.
Sam wasn't going to say anything - what in the hell could he say? - but he just held his hands up and nodded, backing away slowly.
"And stop fucking staring at it!" Dean turned and crossed his arms over his stomach, which Sam thought didn't help any because it just draw attention to the fact that Dean was...well. Sam bit down on his lip and gave Dean a concerned and what he hoped was a sympathetic look.
"Dean, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath." Sam took one himself - in part to demonstrate to Dean and in part because if he didn't, he was going to pass out.
Dean just glared at him and snarled a little. "Is that a joke? Are you making fucking Lamaze jokes?" He stomped over and shoved Sam, then plopped down on the bed and started crying.
That was unexpected. Sam stood still for a moment, one hand raised tentatively. "uh...are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay! Do I look like I'm okay?" Dean screamed, making a jerking motion with his hands towards his stomach. His belly. His swollen belly. His...Sam plopped down next to him.
"This is not good."
"No shit, braniac," Dean sniffled. "I'm tired, I'm sore, I'm swinging back and forth between being pissed off at everything and being the most miserable wretch in the world--"
"It's probably hormonal," which, judging by the death gaze Dean levelled his way, was not the right thing for Sam to say. "I mean, y'know, it probably won't last. It'll, uh, go away?" He smiled nervously.
"Sam." Dean's voice was tight, strained, and he hissed the words. "I am PREGNANT."
Sam winced. He couldn't help it but it was just too weird to hear the word finally said. "Well, yeah, okay." He stood up, a little too quickly, and walked over to the laptop, sitting down and switching it on. "We need to figure out how this happened, see what we can do to reverse it and-- OW!" He rubbed his head where Dean had smacked him.
"We know how this happened," Dean said, giving him a pointed look.
Sam flushed but just turned back to the computer, squirming a little under Dean's stare. "Look, Dean, millions of guys have sex with other guys every day without getting...you know. And, okay, maybe most of them aren't related but just because we are doesn't explain--OW!" He was pushed out of the way by Dean, who settled into the chair after several attempts at trying to figure out how to maneuver his stomach into the space.
"No, dumbass, I meant that thing. The demon we fought last night. I bet you a hundred bucks that bitch did this to me." Dean started typing away, pausing after a moment to sit back and pinch the bridge of his nose. "God, I have a fucking headache and all I can think about is eating pickles."
Sam scrambled to his feet. "Do you want me to get you some? I can pick them up at the store down the road, and anything else you need," he said, edging towards the door.
His progress was halted by Dean's hand gripping his wrist. "You're not going anywhere until this is over-- shit!" His hold on Sam's wrist tightened as he doubled over, free hand clutching at his stomach.
"Dean!" Sam got his arms around Dean and helped him to the bed. "What is it? You're not...it's not...you know." He took in Dean's face, twisted with pain, and the way Dean still held onto his wrist. "Oh boy. Okay, okay. Dean, let go. I'm going to get the car and we'll go to the hospital."
"Are you fucking stupid?" Dean gritted out. He let go of Sam, though, and pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. A few stuttered but deep breaths and his face relaxed a little. "I'm fine. It was just...whatever. It passed. Besides, we go to the hospital and what then? At best, I'm the front page story of the Weekly World News. At worst, well..." Dean's mouth twisted into a half-smirk. "I'll tell Scully and Mulder you say hi."
"But Dean, you can't have this baby on your own."
"One, I am *not* having this baby. No way, no how, not even if I have to bring that thing back to life and kill it again myself. And two," and Dean attempted a smile, patting Sam's shoulder, "I'm not on my own."
Something inside Sam melted at that and he leaned in, hands framing Dean's face as he kissed him. He pulled away and tilted his head so his forehead rested against Dean's. "This is so seriously fucked up," he said, sounding almost amused.
"We always knew we were a bunch of freaks. This just proves it." Dean nudged his shoulder, pushing him away. "C'mon, let's get our Willow on and figure out what to do about this," he said, gesturing vaguely towards his belly.
Sam nodded, then eyed Dean. "Did it get bigger?"
Dean struggled to get to his feet. "Yeah. I figure I got about two hours before this thing pops."
That raised a good point. "Dean, let's say we don't figure something out. How are you...where..." Sam made some motions with his hand, hoping they got the message across without him having to say anything.
Dean held up a hand and shook his head. "We are not discussing this because it is not an issue because I do *not* want to think about the possibilities. Let's just get to work."
---
Two hours later, it started to appear that they were going to have to think about the possibilities. Sam had found some cases similar to Dean's but they all involved finding the demon responsible and destroying it in an elaborate ceremony. Unfortunately, the demon responsible ("Fucking deadbeat dad," Dean had muttered) was already burned up and buried.
"Well," Dean had said, "let's dig the bastard up and do the ceremony anyways. Says there that anyways the first step is killing it." Sam hadn't seen a reason to not do so and so they'd set off for where they'd fought it.
All in all, it should've been an easy fix, but neither one could remember exactly where the demon's bones had been buried.
Dean leaned heavily on his shovel, one hand braced against his hip. Sam handed him a bottle of water and frowned.
"Why don't you sit, get some rest?"
Dean took a long drink and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Just keep digging."
"I just don't think you should be working so hard in--"
Standing straight, Dean fixed Sam with a level gaze. "I swear to god, Sam, if you say 'in your condition', I am going to beat you to death with my shovel." The effect of the threat was slightly lessened when Dean swayed and crumpled to the ground.
"Shit! Dean, Dean!" Sam rushed to Dean's side, grabbing his hand. He squeezed it and then, getting no response, shook Dean by the shoulders. "Fuck, Dean, wake up." Dean was out cold, though. Sam checked his pulse, which was strong if a bit rapid. He eyed Dean's belly, wondered if he should check to make sure everything was normal. Or, rather, okay. Not in any immediate danger. Grimacing a little, he reached out to lay a hand on it.
The warmth of Dean's skin surprised him, as did how firm it was. He pushed down a little harder and nearly pissed himself when something poked back. He jumped backwards, scrambling to get away. "Holy fuck," he whispered.
Then he smiled and laughed.
"What's so funny?" Dean mumbled, finally coming to. He tried to sit up but after struggling for a few moments, he just leaned back on his elbows.
Sam's grin widened and he pointed at Dean's belly. "The baby kicked," he said and crawled back to Dean's side, still beaming.
"The fuck, dude?" Dean swatted at him. "You were feeling me up?"
"I needed to make sure the baby was okay."
Dean's eyes grew wide and he scooted away from Sam. "Oh no, no fucking way. You are not pulling that proud papa routine. This thing isn't mine and it sure as hell isn't yours, so you can just get that picket fences look out of your eyes."
Sam grabbed a hold of Dean's ankle. Almost instantly he could feel a connection to the infant inside of Dean - his *son* - and the distress he was feeling over the argument. "You're upsetting him, Dean."
"Okay, no more sugar for you, Sam. Quit with the crazy talk and let me go!" Dean kicked at him with his free foot but Sam caught it easily and held it down.
Dean struggled to free himself but there was no way Sam was letting go, not now, not ever. It was all so clear in Sam's mind, a perfect vision, and he knew that he had to make Dean see it, too. "Don't you get it, Dean, this is our chance at a perfect family. Just you and me, raising our son together to be brave, to be strong. A warrior like us. He'll rise up to rule this world and nothing will be able to stop him, all will fall before him, and he will raze this dimension--"
"Sorry, Sammy," was all Sam heard before the shovelhead flew into view and the world went black.
---
"Ow."
Sam sat up, pressing a hand to the side of his head. "What happened?" he asked, squinting at Dean, who was seated in the grass next to him.
"Somebody decided get all Janosz Poha on me and I needed to take him out."
"Oh. uh, sorry about that. I'm not sure what happened."
Dean stood up and Sam noticed that the belly was gone. "Long story short," Dean started to explain, "whatever was inside of me connected itself to your brain, had you under some kind of thrall. You started spouting off some crazy shit about raising it to take over the world, I knocked you out with my shovel."
"And the..." he gestured towards Dean's stomach.
"Gone. Finally dug up the fucker and finished off the ceremony just as the contractions hit." Dean scowled, rubbing a hand over his stomach. "That was a bitch, man. I gotta tell you, I totally feel for women now."
"Yeah, well, I'm totally feeling this headache." Sam rolled over and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling a bit. He winced and made a face at Dean. "Did you have to hit me so hard?"
"You bet. Finally got you back for that sucker punch," Dean said, pointing at Sam. He turned to head to the car.
"What sucker punch?" Sam thought about it for a moment. "Wait, when I was ten? You've got to be kidding me." He followed Dean, giving him a light shove. "That was forever ago."
Dean shoved him back. "You broke my nose and almost knocked out a tooth. You should be thankful all you're getting is a lump on the head."
"Real thankful." Sam snorted and got into the car. He turned to speak to Dean and noticed that Dean was still standing outside. He got back out and looked over the roof to see Dean with his arms braced along the door, head down and shaking. "Hey," he said, hurrying to Dean's side. "Hey, you okay?"
Dean took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Sure, man," he said, finally looking up and pasting a smile on his face. "Just kind of a close call, y'know? And then with you freaking out at the end..." Dean turned and leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the distance.
"You took care of it, though. You always do," Sam said softly. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Dean, hold on to him, but he kept still, let Dean have his moment.
Dean sighed and then, smacking his hands on the car, pushed away from it and poked Sam in the side. "Next time, you get to carry around the demonspawn. That thing could have been hell on my figure."
Sam swatted at Dean's hand and laughed. "Get in the car," he said, sliding over the hood to the passenger side and scrambling in just as Dean revved the engine and pulled away.
---
...i kind of hate you for suggesting that because then it just SAT in my head and WOULDN'T LEAVE. ::shakes fists::
no, i kid, i totally love you. <333
btw, title and basic concept totally ripped from the AtS episode of the same name.
thank you for reading!
and because I never posted them proper and I'm all about whoring myself out: Jayne and River forrevisionary, Sam and Dean for monkeydom, and Sam and Dean for apetslife
for
spacedye_vest: socks
[remus/sirius, r]
Remus had cold feet.
Not in a 'scared and running far far away from all of this' way (which wouldn't have surprised Sirius because that had been his reaction the first time he kissed Remus. A second or two of floating through the air with the joy of it all and then three days of mind-numbing panic, after which James found him hiding in the astronomy tower and boxed his ears, telling him to stop being a stupid git), but in an actual physical way (which did surprise Sirius because Remus was like a human furnace, just radiating heat at all times. It made for pleasant winter nights, but sometimes in the summer it was all Sirius could do to keep from dunking Remus in the cold waters of the lake).
There would be nights when they would lie in bed, Remus draped over Sirius, all that golden heat just pressing against his skin. His mouth would trail kisses along Sirius' jawline and down his throat, tiny little sparks of heat blazing over Sirius' skin. Remus' hands would be everywhere, setting Sirius' blood boiling, hot and demanding as they pulled and prodded and rearranged Sirius to Remus' liking.
And Remus' cock, burning against Sirius' own, almost searing, branding Sirius wherever it touched. When Remus fucked him, it was like something molten being pressed into him, filling him up with fire and heat and a white-hot intensity that blinded him from within.
Sirius would be lost in all that heat, skin on fire and mind melting from the way Remus touched him, and then he'd brush against one of Remus' feet, icy cold in comparison to how *hot* everything else was, and the shock of it would short-circuit Sirius' brain and he'd wake up to Remus snoring and a sticky mess on his belly.
Not something that he could really complain about (which, Sirius thought, showed exactly how much he cared about Remus because if there was one thing that Sirius Black could do, it was complain. About anything. *Anything*) but after the first several times, Sirius decided that it would be nice to actually be conscious for his orgasms. He'd heard that they were better that way.
So when he set the parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of Remus, and Remus raised an eyebrow but opened it quickly, and Sirius waited nervously because what if Remus didn't understand and he'd have to explain and it pissed Remus off, and Remus just stared at the thick wool socks for a moment and didn't say anything, and Sirius was ready to crawl into a cave and just *hide* from everyone for a year, and Remus finally looked at him and grinned and pounced, Sirius found out that, yeah, they were *much* better that way.
for
cosmic: expecting
[sam/dean, r]
"Not a word. Not one fucking word," Dean growled, jabbing his finger into Sam's chest with each word.
Sam wasn't going to say anything - what in the hell could he say? - but he just held his hands up and nodded, backing away slowly.
"And stop fucking staring at it!" Dean turned and crossed his arms over his stomach, which Sam thought didn't help any because it just draw attention to the fact that Dean was...well. Sam bit down on his lip and gave Dean a concerned and what he hoped was a sympathetic look.
"Dean, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath." Sam took one himself - in part to demonstrate to Dean and in part because if he didn't, he was going to pass out.
Dean just glared at him and snarled a little. "Is that a joke? Are you making fucking Lamaze jokes?" He stomped over and shoved Sam, then plopped down on the bed and started crying.
That was unexpected. Sam stood still for a moment, one hand raised tentatively. "uh...are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay! Do I look like I'm okay?" Dean screamed, making a jerking motion with his hands towards his stomach. His belly. His swollen belly. His...Sam plopped down next to him.
"This is not good."
"No shit, braniac," Dean sniffled. "I'm tired, I'm sore, I'm swinging back and forth between being pissed off at everything and being the most miserable wretch in the world--"
"It's probably hormonal," which, judging by the death gaze Dean levelled his way, was not the right thing for Sam to say. "I mean, y'know, it probably won't last. It'll, uh, go away?" He smiled nervously.
"Sam." Dean's voice was tight, strained, and he hissed the words. "I am PREGNANT."
Sam winced. He couldn't help it but it was just too weird to hear the word finally said. "Well, yeah, okay." He stood up, a little too quickly, and walked over to the laptop, sitting down and switching it on. "We need to figure out how this happened, see what we can do to reverse it and-- OW!" He rubbed his head where Dean had smacked him.
"We know how this happened," Dean said, giving him a pointed look.
Sam flushed but just turned back to the computer, squirming a little under Dean's stare. "Look, Dean, millions of guys have sex with other guys every day without getting...you know. And, okay, maybe most of them aren't related but just because we are doesn't explain--OW!" He was pushed out of the way by Dean, who settled into the chair after several attempts at trying to figure out how to maneuver his stomach into the space.
"No, dumbass, I meant that thing. The demon we fought last night. I bet you a hundred bucks that bitch did this to me." Dean started typing away, pausing after a moment to sit back and pinch the bridge of his nose. "God, I have a fucking headache and all I can think about is eating pickles."
Sam scrambled to his feet. "Do you want me to get you some? I can pick them up at the store down the road, and anything else you need," he said, edging towards the door.
His progress was halted by Dean's hand gripping his wrist. "You're not going anywhere until this is over-- shit!" His hold on Sam's wrist tightened as he doubled over, free hand clutching at his stomach.
"Dean!" Sam got his arms around Dean and helped him to the bed. "What is it? You're not...it's not...you know." He took in Dean's face, twisted with pain, and the way Dean still held onto his wrist. "Oh boy. Okay, okay. Dean, let go. I'm going to get the car and we'll go to the hospital."
"Are you fucking stupid?" Dean gritted out. He let go of Sam, though, and pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. A few stuttered but deep breaths and his face relaxed a little. "I'm fine. It was just...whatever. It passed. Besides, we go to the hospital and what then? At best, I'm the front page story of the Weekly World News. At worst, well..." Dean's mouth twisted into a half-smirk. "I'll tell Scully and Mulder you say hi."
"But Dean, you can't have this baby on your own."
"One, I am *not* having this baby. No way, no how, not even if I have to bring that thing back to life and kill it again myself. And two," and Dean attempted a smile, patting Sam's shoulder, "I'm not on my own."
Something inside Sam melted at that and he leaned in, hands framing Dean's face as he kissed him. He pulled away and tilted his head so his forehead rested against Dean's. "This is so seriously fucked up," he said, sounding almost amused.
"We always knew we were a bunch of freaks. This just proves it." Dean nudged his shoulder, pushing him away. "C'mon, let's get our Willow on and figure out what to do about this," he said, gesturing vaguely towards his belly.
Sam nodded, then eyed Dean. "Did it get bigger?"
Dean struggled to get to his feet. "Yeah. I figure I got about two hours before this thing pops."
That raised a good point. "Dean, let's say we don't figure something out. How are you...where..." Sam made some motions with his hand, hoping they got the message across without him having to say anything.
Dean held up a hand and shook his head. "We are not discussing this because it is not an issue because I do *not* want to think about the possibilities. Let's just get to work."
---
Two hours later, it started to appear that they were going to have to think about the possibilities. Sam had found some cases similar to Dean's but they all involved finding the demon responsible and destroying it in an elaborate ceremony. Unfortunately, the demon responsible ("Fucking deadbeat dad," Dean had muttered) was already burned up and buried.
"Well," Dean had said, "let's dig the bastard up and do the ceremony anyways. Says there that anyways the first step is killing it." Sam hadn't seen a reason to not do so and so they'd set off for where they'd fought it.
All in all, it should've been an easy fix, but neither one could remember exactly where the demon's bones had been buried.
Dean leaned heavily on his shovel, one hand braced against his hip. Sam handed him a bottle of water and frowned.
"Why don't you sit, get some rest?"
Dean took a long drink and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Just keep digging."
"I just don't think you should be working so hard in--"
Standing straight, Dean fixed Sam with a level gaze. "I swear to god, Sam, if you say 'in your condition', I am going to beat you to death with my shovel." The effect of the threat was slightly lessened when Dean swayed and crumpled to the ground.
"Shit! Dean, Dean!" Sam rushed to Dean's side, grabbing his hand. He squeezed it and then, getting no response, shook Dean by the shoulders. "Fuck, Dean, wake up." Dean was out cold, though. Sam checked his pulse, which was strong if a bit rapid. He eyed Dean's belly, wondered if he should check to make sure everything was normal. Or, rather, okay. Not in any immediate danger. Grimacing a little, he reached out to lay a hand on it.
The warmth of Dean's skin surprised him, as did how firm it was. He pushed down a little harder and nearly pissed himself when something poked back. He jumped backwards, scrambling to get away. "Holy fuck," he whispered.
Then he smiled and laughed.
"What's so funny?" Dean mumbled, finally coming to. He tried to sit up but after struggling for a few moments, he just leaned back on his elbows.
Sam's grin widened and he pointed at Dean's belly. "The baby kicked," he said and crawled back to Dean's side, still beaming.
"The fuck, dude?" Dean swatted at him. "You were feeling me up?"
"I needed to make sure the baby was okay."
Dean's eyes grew wide and he scooted away from Sam. "Oh no, no fucking way. You are not pulling that proud papa routine. This thing isn't mine and it sure as hell isn't yours, so you can just get that picket fences look out of your eyes."
Sam grabbed a hold of Dean's ankle. Almost instantly he could feel a connection to the infant inside of Dean - his *son* - and the distress he was feeling over the argument. "You're upsetting him, Dean."
"Okay, no more sugar for you, Sam. Quit with the crazy talk and let me go!" Dean kicked at him with his free foot but Sam caught it easily and held it down.
Dean struggled to free himself but there was no way Sam was letting go, not now, not ever. It was all so clear in Sam's mind, a perfect vision, and he knew that he had to make Dean see it, too. "Don't you get it, Dean, this is our chance at a perfect family. Just you and me, raising our son together to be brave, to be strong. A warrior like us. He'll rise up to rule this world and nothing will be able to stop him, all will fall before him, and he will raze this dimension--"
"Sorry, Sammy," was all Sam heard before the shovelhead flew into view and the world went black.
---
"Ow."
Sam sat up, pressing a hand to the side of his head. "What happened?" he asked, squinting at Dean, who was seated in the grass next to him.
"Somebody decided get all Janosz Poha on me and I needed to take him out."
"Oh. uh, sorry about that. I'm not sure what happened."
Dean stood up and Sam noticed that the belly was gone. "Long story short," Dean started to explain, "whatever was inside of me connected itself to your brain, had you under some kind of thrall. You started spouting off some crazy shit about raising it to take over the world, I knocked you out with my shovel."
"And the..." he gestured towards Dean's stomach.
"Gone. Finally dug up the fucker and finished off the ceremony just as the contractions hit." Dean scowled, rubbing a hand over his stomach. "That was a bitch, man. I gotta tell you, I totally feel for women now."
"Yeah, well, I'm totally feeling this headache." Sam rolled over and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling a bit. He winced and made a face at Dean. "Did you have to hit me so hard?"
"You bet. Finally got you back for that sucker punch," Dean said, pointing at Sam. He turned to head to the car.
"What sucker punch?" Sam thought about it for a moment. "Wait, when I was ten? You've got to be kidding me." He followed Dean, giving him a light shove. "That was forever ago."
Dean shoved him back. "You broke my nose and almost knocked out a tooth. You should be thankful all you're getting is a lump on the head."
"Real thankful." Sam snorted and got into the car. He turned to speak to Dean and noticed that Dean was still standing outside. He got back out and looked over the roof to see Dean with his arms braced along the door, head down and shaking. "Hey," he said, hurrying to Dean's side. "Hey, you okay?"
Dean took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Sure, man," he said, finally looking up and pasting a smile on his face. "Just kind of a close call, y'know? And then with you freaking out at the end..." Dean turned and leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the distance.
"You took care of it, though. You always do," Sam said softly. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Dean, hold on to him, but he kept still, let Dean have his moment.
Dean sighed and then, smacking his hands on the car, pushed away from it and poked Sam in the side. "Next time, you get to carry around the demonspawn. That thing could have been hell on my figure."
Sam swatted at Dean's hand and laughed. "Get in the car," he said, sliding over the hood to the passenger side and scrambling in just as Dean revved the engine and pulled away.
---
...i kind of hate you for suggesting that because then it just SAT in my head and WOULDN'T LEAVE. ::shakes fists::
no, i kid, i totally love you. <333
btw, title and basic concept totally ripped from the AtS episode of the same name.
thank you for reading!
and because I never posted them proper and I'm all about whoring myself out: Jayne and River for
revisionary, Sam and Dean for monkeydom, and Sam and Dean for apetslife![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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