The Mechanics of Coupling Human Oral Cavities

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Castiel steps into what Dean frequently reminds him is Personal Space. He places his hands on Dean’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and then presses his lips against Dean’s.

They are warm. Softer than he expects. The rest of Dean is very tense, but his lips are not. They are, in fact, very nice.

Castiel feels a small pang of sorrow when Dean pulls away. He feels worse when Dean starts laughing at him so hard he doubles over. There may, in fact, be tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

“Jesus, Cas. Just,” Dean’s composure breaks again when he looks Castiel in the face. “I swear, man, I thought you were kidding. Holy shit, you are so not kidding.”

Kissing is apparently beyond him, but Castiel’s grasp on humiliation is suddenly quite expert.

“I should go.”

Dean grabs his sleeve.

Short and slow and sweet and beautifully-written.

Fluff: ++++

Angst: +++

Smut: +++

Overall Rating: ++++

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Nature’s Way

Nature's Way

“I know you know what I am.” She moved close to him and he could smell her perfume, yet underneath there was the pervading stench of rot and age. “But knowledge will not save you.”

Sam could see his brother’s eyes widen, fear, but not for himself, fear for Sam.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Anastasia shook her head again; “I did not kill one of those who came before you. I gave them new life, a chance of survival.”

Sam wanted to frown but he couldn’t. She must have seen it in his eyes because she came close again, scraping long nails down his furry arm, the bear suit even more ridicules in their dire situation.

“Have you ever wanted to know what it felt like to be someone else? Something else? Take my PA for instance; she was obsessed with her appearance, with her looks. She spent hours getting ready for work in the morning, primping and preening,” she laughed. “A vain little peacock.” Her eyes wandered to the elegant swan girl. “So I turned her into one.”

An episode-length fanfiction.

Fluff: +++

Angst: ++++

Smut: +

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here:

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To the Art of Drinking

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Judging by the way the man appeared out of thin air, the man is likely a hallucination, or it could be that Will zoned out once again and missed a stranger waltzing into his house. As much as Will doesn’t want himself to spiral into further madness, this time, he’s rooting for the hallucination option. At least then he wouldn’t have to wrestle out the intruder in his sleep-deprived state.

Will carefully drinks a sip of coffee and turns around. The man is still there. Will wonders why his art of passive-agressively drinking things to fend off unwanted attention is failing him now.

Short but witty.

Fluff: +++++

Angst: ++

Smut: +

Overall Rating: ++++

Read it here:

Folie a Deux


“Why? I’m better now.”

“I know,” she says easily. “But I think we need to figure out why you picked Dean. What is it about him that makes you want to be him?”

He starts cracking his knuckles. He’s waiting for the day she tells him not to do it, that it’s bad for his joints, but she never says anything.

“I don’t think I’m him anymore. I know who I am. I’m me. I’m Jensen.”

“And I’m glad for it. But it’s important that you understand why you latched on to him. If we can take it apart and uncover it all, you won’t need him anymore. Remember what I said about therapy at the start?”

He shifts in his seat. “Yeah.” She had said it was like a rain barrel, and while things looked clean on the surface there was always sludge and grime that you had to stir up, clean out, and then you’d really have clean water instead of just the illusion of clean water.

“So, tell me. Tell me about Dean Winchester.”

By some laws of fandom, and in some cases, incest is inevitable.

A certain TV show premiered in September of 2005 with two main characters. For three years, these two brothers were the only constant characters. The writers made a paltry effort with attractive females that existed for half an episode and were immediately killed off, but it was clear from the beginning that the only relationship the brothers would forever keep was the one between themselves. And so, the fandom followed the path that the writers had unknowingly created: the brothers’ relationship was meant to be, and in more than a brotherly sense. The writers were shocked. The readers of this blog post, perhaps, are also shocked.

But in retrospect, from a cultural studies professor’s viewpoint, there is nothing to be shocked about. With a little understanding of a fandom‘s collective mind, one can see a pattern in the way thousand of ships are created. So I present my hypothesis on the operation of relationships within Internet societies:

By the Attention Shipping Hypothesis, there exists a character, no-screen-time < interaction(character) < already-canonically-shipped, such that interaction(character) is compatible with interaction(other character). Since interaction(character) = personality type A and interaction(character) = personality type B, and personality type A is compatible with personality type B, character and other character will be written in close context.

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Poetic Justice


“Look at it this way.” Gabriel phases right through the seat, ends up sitting next to Dean in the front of the car. He folds his arms behind his head and tilts his head toward Dean. “You’ve run into Death already, right? And Fate. Some people are more than people, OK? I’m an archetype. There’s got to be me, somewhere. Someone’s gotta be the Trickster. Now, some poor schmo can get called up out of nowhere, or I can pick someone before I kick off entirely. So, I’ve picked someone.” He leans in, and his eyes glint that green-amber hue that Dean’s never been entirely sure how to characterize. “And it’s you, Dean.”

This is the kind of fanfiction that you set out to find, and you wade your way through dozens of okay fanfictions, and then you don’t find it, no matter how hard you look. And one day, some time after you’ve forgotten about that mission, you find it. And it’s beautiful. It’s also the kind of fanfiction with a premise that seems a little stretched, like maybe the author won’t be able to live up to the story they’ve promised, and you’ll end up sighing, maybe giving some kudos out of kindness, and leaving. Only a few of them live up to their promises. This is one of those few.

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