#blogs that only like stuff and never reblog are fucking boring and contribute nothing to the tumblr ecosystem

[tethered-heartstrings]

liking is for mutuals’ selfies, personal posts that you want to show support for, and for links you want to (but realistically will never) revisit later. reblog posts you enjoy or contribute to it’s early death

[detectivehole]

Go comic feral, i followed this blog for a rEASOn and it's bc i like to hear your random vents and rants and also you reblog cool stuff. But i digress, go comic feral i am hERE for it

fine

PETER PARKER BEING RICH IS STUPID  he didnt even ern what he has himself it was nt even himn he wasnt in his body maybe if i had got to see him start fron nothing to being a cool ceo or whatever id be able to stand it but nooooooo he just GOT is for nothing so it feels stupid like “ha ha what if like tony stark haha” its DUMB and i haven’t read a spider man comic for a long time

deadpool/spiderman crossover comic bad. feels out of character a lot. funny concept and full of funny jokes but as far as characterization its bad in my opinion- was made to capitalize off the hype of the ship and we all know it

don cates should be banned from writing comics bc he fucking sucks and ill never forgive him for what he did/tried to do to venom

deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good deadpool good dea

the venom movie was a lot of fun but it was very ooc a lot HOWEVER seeing some of the cut scenes and scripts you can see that it used to be actually fairly in character for the comics but a lot of scenes with eddie establishing himself as not actually the most nicest of guys (not that eddie isnt a nice guy deep down but he is a good amount fucked up with a big ol hero complex and a problem with ‘i can do no wrong” mentality sometimes) were cut and considering how the fandom for the movie treats him i can see why the cut those bits out bc i dont think movie goers would have liked him as much wich is a shame bc he is a good guy at the end of the day just fucked up

straight white male comic fans are the worst people in the world and breaking their fingers is a daydream i indulge in 

matt murdock is a himbo

foggy nelson is a good man who deserves better friends

i can tell what deadpool comics someone has read based on how they characterize wade in their fan works and i have a 80% success rate with it. the most common was the daniel way run but now its the spider-man/deadpool crossover series

soulda used miles for the mcu spidey instead of cannibalizing his story for parts like they did. dick move, Disney

mcu bad

i think just the idea of dc’s Red Tool is fucking hilarious but i dont like his character at all

batman and superman should fuck but they wont :/

matt and foggy should to but the comic industry is afraid of making long running characters lgbt bc theyre WEAK

deadpool need a canon bf they cant keep telling us hes pan and not showing us for reals- hell he could just go on one date or be shown having a one night stand or something- something beyond a damn joke

cable gay. no i will not listen to any other opinions.

im excited to read moon knight i have a book waiting i just have to finish my current one

SCUD the disposable assassin is the most underrated comic EVER and i LOVE IT however i think it ended stupid and bad however it went on fucking hiatus for like a decade and then was rapped up really fast so any ending is a godsend

i desperately want a long-form stand alone series abt wanda wilson bc shes the perfect foil for a good Feral Dumbass Woman comic. think abt it; shell sell immediately bc of recognizable brand, and then she can just go on violent stupid adventures without any of the other dp corps. it doenst have to line up with any canon i just want insane lady dp adventure comic. this is an unreasonable dream but mine none the less

i though that agent venom was stupid

tank girl is fucking amazing and i love it i never understand whats going on and i enjoy the confusion

reading early hulk comics feels like watching a weird, poorly produced old black and white sci-fi soap

there needs to be better, more easily accessed, official reading-order guides published and posted on the walls of comic shops everywhere

the 80s and 90s were the best time for marvel comics and no one can tell me otherwise. that was peak comic time

the worst time for comics was the 2000s and early 2010s

sometimes i am shocked by the art that gets the editors pass in comics. some of it is so bad and im not even talking about the disproportionate ladies

the lego marvel and dc movies are way better than the live action movies and im not even being sarcastic

seriously the 2000s made some horrible comics

i feel like committing acts of mass violence every time someone says comics arnt real reading/stories/implies theyre worth less of any value than a novel

i read the first deadpool comic i got so much that the art itself is so ingrained in my mind that people have shown my just the corners of panels and ive identified them correctly

i distinctly remember the first time the woman at the book store stopped asking me for parental permission to buy the comics i was getting (12yos) because i went there so often that she just remembered who i was and that the adult would say its fine

i refuse to talk about comics with people at cons because i am gatekept or flirted with every single time no matter what and there is no in between. and yea its because i have tits. youd think that eventually theyd learn but gross comic men never do and all the others have adopted the same policy as me so the closest i come to positive comic interaction at cons is standing in the same vicinity as another chick, looking at the same section, and the kinda smiling at each other

i think the avengers are boring. really really boring. the x-men are way better

i related to gwenpool too much when she first started and it scared/offended me so i stopped reading for a while until her character developed more and we stooped being so similar

i have spider-man bedding. i picked it out only a few months ago. its good it makes me feel cool in a very uncool way

watching spider-man as a kid made me wanna be a scientist. watching batman as a kid made me want to do martial arts. i ended up failing chemistry and falling on my face a lot instead.

i had a huge venom toy and a huge spiderman toy as a kid and while i did make them fight a lot i also made them hug just as much. i wanted them to be friends

on that note PETER IS MEAN TO THE SYMBIOTE NOW AND HE DONT EVEN HAVE A REASON NO MORE hes just such a dick about criminal reform eddie and the symbiote aint special with this- he says he believes people can be better but he really doesnt show it. he tends to think people are set in their ways and while this makes sense forthe most part considering how much hewas bullied as a kid/adult (that also contributes to his mild “i protect my own” mentality  tho at least he consciously fights that one) it stil pisses me off

i can think way more but i need to sleep i think

[izzy-b-hands]

What’s Sure In A Universe

My HalloQueen gift fic for Sammyspreadyourwings on the DL server! I hope you like this Sammy; the prompt was a fun one to write! 

My prompt was: magic and curses, with a focus on saving someone from a curse. 

I decided to take a different route re: the magic and curse, in that it isn’t coming from something supernatural exactly, but something multi-dimensional which isn’t exactly natural then due to that (because I was thinking about Brian and space when I wrote this lol.) 

If I had to rate this, I’d put it at M/Mature-nothing too NSFW (no smut at all in this one), nothing too scary, but there is the implication of possible death should the lads fail to solve the curse.

Title taken from a line in this poem: https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2015/10/08/on-relativity/

Synopsis: Set in 1979.  Brian/Freddie. There’s nothing like a curse from some sort of inter/multi-dimensional beast to bring a band together, especially when it comes with a riddle or two to solve! 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Nah.” 

“I’m sorry?” the eight-foot tall, multi-armed creature with something writhing for hair, asked with its creaky and ancient-sounding voice. 

“This is bullshit,” Roger laughed, setting down his drum sticks and coming round to the open area of the studio where it was stood. “Curses aren’t real.” 

“Do you see your friend?” the creature scoffed, and pointed to Brian, who at the touch of the creature had dropped to the floor, John only barely able to grab the Red Special from him as he fell. “What is this, if not real?” 

“How are you doing that?” Roger asked, ignoring the creature’s question as he circled it. “The floating thing? Where are the wires? You must have them...love to know who Bri pissed off enough for this elaborate of a prank.” 

“This...” the creature sighed, and rubbed the bridge of its nose with its claws. “Is not a prank. And I’m an interdimensional beast made of fear and space dust, this is just...me. I float, it’s a thing we all do. Like how your kind walk on two legs?” 

“What did Brian do to deserve this?” John asked, not so much scared as curious, watching the creature with a careful eye. 

“I don’t usually have to give the backstory,” the creature said. “It isn’t enough to know I’ve cursed him, and now there are things you must do to save him?” 

Roger, John, and Freddie shared a look, then shook their heads. 

“Fine,” the creature spat. “If you simply must know: it’s random. Each year, on my birthday-” 

“Interdimensional hell beasts get birthdays?” John interrupted.

“Just a beast,” the creature said. “My cousins are hell beasts, but it’s an entirely different sub-species, not that you would understand the nuance of that. And yes, we do get birthdays. Anyway! I must curse one being in another dimension or universe on my birthday each year, or I will die.” 

“Have you considered dying?” Roger asked. “Sounds like a shit existence, I mean. If you have to hurt others to live-” 

“Roger, that’s getting into a fairly deep topic,” Freddie interjected. “Couldn’t we also say that of what we do to the earth?” 

“Oh shit,” Roger nodded. “Y’know Bri knows the most about this stuff, could really use him um...not cursed, to contribute to the conversation.” 

The creature groaned miserably. “Did you really think that would work? I would just...uncurse him, which by the way, isn’t a thing? You have to break it, now that I’ve set it upon him. I would say nice try, but it wasn’t. That was terrible.” 

“Awful rude, for someone who broke into and is interrupting our studio time,” Freddie muttered. 

The creature checked the Timex watch on its wrist, and sighed. “I have an appointment two dimensions over in fifteen lightyears. I don’t have time for all this; do you want the rules of how to save him from certain death, or not?” 

“We didn’t say we didn’t!” Freddie replied as he knelt by Brian, frowning at how shallow Brian’s breathing was. 

“You...seem more upset than the others,” the creature said.

“Well, they are dating,” Roger said. “I mean, I’m not happy with this either, John I don’t think is either-” 

John nodded. 

“But we also aren’t fucking him and living with him, so the connection is slightly different, you know?” Roger continued. 

“We have egg pods, and do not take mates,” the creature replied. 

“Mmhm...gross,” Roger nodded. “You want to give us the rules and fuck off then?” 

“Humans,” the creature muttered. “I’m not enjoying this either! I don’t like spending my birthday away from home, doing this. Fucking mortals on this plane...rude and mean and too moist!” 

“Do...do you eat us?” John asked, clearly disgusted. 

“No! Don’t be gross,” the creature replied. “You’re just...odd, on this plane. All moist with meat and wet bones inside...you know, there’s only one other dimension with things like you, and it’s not even half as shitty. Just so you’re aware.” 

“Are you going to give the instructions to save my boyfriend, or not?” Freddie demanded as he tried to pull Brian onto the couch at the side wall of the studio. “Because frankly, I’m fucking sick of your face and this shit.” 

The creature appeared aghast. “Yeah. Rude fucks...tell you what, let me write it all down so I can just go, okay? I’m sick of all of you too.” 

“Oh look, something we agree on,” Roger spat sarcastically as the creature took a pen and paper from John, scribbling furiously.

“How did you learn how to write in our language?” John asked, only to take a step back at the glare the creature gave him. “Jesus, sorry for asking. Just wondering.” 

“I hate all of you,” the creature sighed, and handed John the paper and pen back. “I’ll be back to suck his soul out when you inevitably fail. See you then, assholes!” 

The creature stomped back through the the way it had come, pushing aside the now-broken studio doors, and was gone. 

“Wow!” Roger gasped. “What a dick! Honestly...if we wanted to know if other universes or dimensions have manners, the answer is apparently no.” 

“Can I see that?” Freddie asked, striding over to take the paper from John, eyes scanning it. “We have time, at least.” 

“How much?” Roger asked.

“A week,” Freddie replied. “And there are four things to find, with these little riddle-like things to tell us what they are? Then...god, shitty handwriting...” 

“They did have to write with claws,” John noted. 

“They don’t get an excuse after cursing Brian,” Freddie said sternly. “Ah, got it. We present the items in front of Brian...if we did it right and got all the right things, the curse is broken.” 

“This is just a shopping list,” Roger said. “A really specific one, but still.” 

“Do your shopping lists usually have riddles?” Freddie asked.

Roger shrugged. “If I’m bored.” 

“But...you know what you need, so...” Freddie sighed. “Never mind, if it’s fun for you, go for it, darling. Maybe it’ll give you an advantage in helping with this.” 

“What are the riddle things?” John asked. “I didn’t look at it myself, not close...” 

“We need something Brian loves-” Freddie began to read.

“Red Special,” Roger interjected. 

“Something he loathes,” Freddie continued. 

“Me, sometimes,” John said. 

“Hush, he’s never loathed you,” Freddie scolded. “And even if he did, we aren’t giving you up for this. There’s got to be more than one answer to these, but one answer must be ‘more right’ than the others. Anyway, then we need something he thought or thinks is lost, and something he lacks.” 

“His house keys,” Roger said. “And...lacks...huh.” 

“We have to be careful too,” Freddie said, reading on. “It notes here that whatever we use as the items will be sacrificed and pulled into a different dimension, so I think that means we don’t get them back.” 

“So that’s no using John, or the Red Special,” Roger said. “Well, what else can we use then?” 

“I don’t know, right off hand,” Freddie replied. “We could get Brian back home, you two could stay over tonight and help me think of things? I can get us dinner-” 

“You don’t have to bribe us to help you with this,” John chuckled. “Dinner is nice, but we’d be staying with you regardless.” 

Roger nodded. “First, there’s too much of him to lug home without help. Second, he’s our friend too, so we want to help. And third, don’t you worry about dinner, we’ll pick something up on the way back to yours and Brian’s. My treat, not yours, because you have enough on your plate as it is.” 

---

“He’s breathing,” John said as they flopped Brian onto his and Freddie’s bed. “He’s okay for now.” 

But that was all he did, breathe, and seem to be asleep, or in something like a coma. He didn’t respond to stimulus, didn’t respond to them talking to him, touching him, at all. It was close enough to death to be unsettling to all of them, even if they couldn’t admit it out loud. 

“He loves me,” Freddie mused as they made their way to the sitting room. “Maybe...” 

“Did we not already agree that none of us are being sacrificed for this?” Roger asked. “No, Fred. Besides, he loves lots of things besides the Red Special and you. Space...” 

“Can’t really bottle that up and present it to someone though,” John remarked. 

“True,” Roger said. “His parents...that’s still people, no human sacrifice for this...animals he loves, but that doesn’t work either...” 

“This shouldn’t be so hard,” John sighed, dropping onto the couch. 

“Don’t think it would be a curse if it was too easy to break,” Freddie said as he sat beside John. “But you’re right. This one is puzzling. They all are.” 

“Fairy tale logic,” Roger said, thudding into a chair across from them, a foot rested on the coffee table in between the chair and couch. “That’s what we need.” 

“Exactly,” Freddie agreed. 

“Is it funny how much he would hate this, if it wasn’t him cursed?” John asked with a small smile. “Backwards, almost magical logic, creatures from beyond our understanding of time and space...” 

“I think the creature would intrigue him,” Roger replied. “But yeah, the rest of it he might wrinkle his nose at.” 

“Let’s move back to loathes, maybe,” Freddie said. “If we bounce from riddle to riddle, eventually we’ll come up with an answer for each one.” 

“Cruelty to animals, to people,” John listed. “Rudeness in general.” 

“Too-crumbly biscuits,” Freddie mumbled as he leaned back and looked into the hall, his eyes on the doorway of the bedroom. 

Roger frowned worriedly as he saw Freddie’s gaze, locked where it was. “Really? Why don’t you tell us about that? I mean, if all we have to do is buy biscuits he hates...” 

Freddie giggled, and Roger let out a sigh of relief. 

“No. He will give you an essay on it, if you go shopping with him,” Freddie replied. “But I don’t know if that’s enough for this. Too minor of a thing.” 

“Failure?” John offered. “The idea of it, at least. The feeling that someone sees him as having failed.” 

Roger nodded. “One of the latest reviews he was just violent about, do you guys remember?” 

“Yes,” Freddie said. “He burned the copies our parents sent us of that particular magazine. Absolutely fired up about it; I think it was because he knew his parents had read it.” 

“I’ve got a copy,” Roger reached into the bag that held their takeaway that they had yet to break into. “Bought it to burn or tear up myself on a bad day, but I can give it up for Brian’s sake. Goodness knows the assholes will always write new ones...” 

Freddie took the magazine from Roger, and set it by the coffee table. “One down. What about lost?” 

“If we can be horribly honest,” John replied. “He could lose his head, if it wasn’t attached.”

Freddie looked thoughtful. “He’s afraid he’s lost his thesis. Well, not the thesis itself. But he worries about when he’ll get back to it, if he can get back to it. Maybe his notes from that? If we made copies, of course.” 

“We have hands, if you have extra paper and pens,” Roger said, waving his hands as if to show them off.

Freddie smiled. “I know where he keeps them in the closet. We have to be careful with them; I don’t know that he has other copies...” 

“We’ll be careful,” John and Roger promised in one voice. And they meant it; the last thing any of them would want to do would be to get Brian back only to have him pass out from finding out something had happened to notes for his thesis. 

---

Three hours later, the takeaway had been devoured, and the notes were copied. 

“I think my fingers are numb,” Roger announced. “Good show, though. Two left.” 

“Lacks,” John mused. “The ability to dance.” 

“You would say that,” Freddie said with chuckle and shake of his head.

“I have eyes,” John said apologetically. “Can’t lie about what they see. He does his best.” 

“He does,” Freddie agreed. “But we can’t present dancing skills to him in a physical object.” 

“The ability to wear shoes aside from clogs?” Roger asked. 

“You’ve seen him in other shoes!” Freddie laughed. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like them as much as clogs.” 

“True, but again, we need something we can present in a physical object,” Freddie said. “I might have something...” 

He stood, and pulled a ring box from the drawer of the end table near the couch. “I know we can’t...do it proper, you know? But we’d talked about exchanging rings, at least.” 

“How long have you had this?” Roger asked, taking the box carefully from Freddie and opening it. “It’s lovely.” 

“Simple,” John noted, leaning over to peer at it as Roger handed the box back to Freddie. “Now, knowing his ability to lose things...how many extras have you bought?” 

Freddie smiled. “Haven’t done that, but the jeweler did offer to replace any lost rings for either of us for the next two years. He was very kind about all of it, honestly. And I’ve had it about a year...” 

“You’ve not been working up that long to propose?” Roger smiled, then sighed. “Oh, Fred.” 

“I know he wants this as much as I do,” Freddie protested. “I just need it to be the right moment, that’s all.” 

“Candles and fireworks,” John joked.

“Not so much as that,” Freddie smirked. “Well, I did have candles for it, I suppose. Over a dinner, just him and I, maybe. I don’t know...” 

“This is perfect,” John said. “You can get a replacement easily, Brian lacks it, and is somewhat aware that he lacks it.” 

“One left!” Roger crowed triumphantly as Freddie set the ring box to the side with the copies of the notes and the magazine. “Love?” 

“Being right,” John said, then giggled as Freddie batted at his shoulder. “I’m right and you know it!” 

“I do, but still,” Freddie said with a smile. “Be nice, and list something that can be presented in an object, please.” 

“Red Special, you, his parents, space, clogs, animals, music, swimming,” Roger added. “Traveling...er...breathing? I’ve gone too general with it now I fear.” 

“Slightly,” Freddie agreed. “I think most of us love being able to breathe.” 

They sat, and thought, and the clock ticked on towards midnight, but none of them moved to get ready for bed. 

“What about a six pence piece?” Freddie said suddenly. “He loves them as picks, and it’s as close as putting in the Red Special as we can get.” 

“Let’s do it!” Roger said, pulling a six pence from his pocket, and grabbing up the other things from the floor near the coffee table. 

They piled into the bedroom, settling the things on the foot of the bed near Brian’s feet. 

“...Something’s supposed to happen now, yes?” John asked as the clock in the room ticked to break the silence. 

“Thought so,” Freddie sighed, pulling the paper with the curse instructions on it from his trouser pocket. “Doesn’t say we have to do anything else.” 

“Maybe we’ve got something wrong,” Roger said, reaching for the six pence and the magazine. “Fuck!” 

“Careful,” Freddie winced as a drop of Roger’s blood hit the bedspread. “Papercut?” 

“Can this shit review take literally anything else from me?!” Roger cried dramatically, tossing the magazine back on the bed. “Sorry. Just...nervous. This should have worked.” 

Freddie stared at the drop of blood. 

“I can see wheels turning,” John said. “Let us in on what you’re thinking?” 

“Put the six pence back in your pocket, Rog,” Freddie said. “It’s us.” 

“What?” 

Freddie dipped into the drawer of the end table near the bed, and pulled out a needle, a bit of thread still in the eye of it. He pulled the thread out, and pricked his finger on it, letting a few drops of blood spill onto the paper with the curse instructions. 

He handed it off to Roger and John, who winced and did the same. 

Roger put the six pence back in his pocket, and set the paper down in its spot. 

A moment passed...

And nothing.

“Fuck,” Freddie hissed. “I really thought I had someth-” 

He paused as the items rose off the bed, shook, then blinked out of existence. 

“What in the everloving fuck,” John muttered under his breath. 

“Excellent question,” Roger nodded. “No idea on the answer though.” 

“Thought this wasn’t real,” John said. 

“I may have to retract that previous statement,” Roger admitted. “There’s evidence to disprove it, after all.” 

Brian’s breathing was better, there was color in his face, but he didn’t wake. 

“But we did it right, didn’t we?” Freddie asked as they slowly changed themselves for the night, pulling on nightclothes and tossing their day clothes aside in a corner of the room. 

“I think we did,” Roger said. “But...” 

“Maybe he’s just tired,” John said softly. “I’m sure I would be, after all this, even if I was knocked out for it. We could stay in here, in case he wakes up?” 

Blankets and extra pillows were grabbed and arranged on the floor for Roger and John. Freddie drew the curtains over the bedroom window, then took the other side of the bed, only after retrieving a new ring box from a drawer in their dresser. He set it on the end table on Brian’s side, fingers lingering over it for an extra moment. 

“He’ll be okay,” Roger assured from the floor, his eyes on Freddie. “That’ll be a nice surprise for him when he wakes up, Fred.” 

Freddie nodded, but didn’t lay down as he got in the bed, instead staying sat up, watching Brian’s chest rise and fall. 

“It’s past midnight now,” John murmured. “Go to bed, Freddie. We can’t do anything else for him right now. It’ll be okay. Just let him rest.” 

---

“Something’s burning,” Freddie mumbled into his pillow, and raised his head. “Wonder what Brian’s making...” 

It hit him like a jolt of lightning. Brian. 

He nearly fell out of the bed making his way to the kitchen, because it would almost seem too good to be true if-

Brian, awake and smiling, turning to greet him while John tossed the burning food off the pan and into the sink. 

“Good morning,” Brian said cheerfully. “Rather, afternoon. Nearly noon now, actually!” 

Freddie wrapped him in a hug, pressing kisses to his face. 

“I did burn the pancakes,” Brian laughed. “Don’t know if I deserve kisses for that.” 

“You don’t,” Roger said, tapping a finger on his empty plate. “We’ve been trying to make something other than toast for an hour now, Fred, but don’t hold your breath.” 

“That said, the toast has been good,” John added as he finished scraping the pan and put a new bout of batter into it. “And we’ll get these done right, eventually.” 

“In the meantime,” Brian said as Freddie let him go. “Coffee and toast?” 

Freddie nodded, then stopped as he caught the glint of the ring on Brian’s finger. “Yes?” 

Brian looked puzzled, then down to his hand. “Oh! Yes, of course! And I’ve got a ring for you too...just had it...” 

“In the fridge,” Roger and John said at once, not skipping a beat. 

Brian nodded, and pulled a velvet ring box out of the fridge. “Sorry. Had it in my hand when I grabbed the milk, I think. A bit cold, but it should fi-” 

He was cut off by another kiss from Freddie, who had wrapped himself again around Brian. 

“Get it put on so you can warm it up,” Brian smiled, pulling the ring from the box with shaking hands as Freddie let him go again. 

The ring glinted in the sun streaming through the windows of the flat, and cheesy as he knew it might be, it brought Freddie to tears. 

“This is an engagement brunch now,” Roger declared. “Which means we can’t burn the pancakes again.” 

“I won’t,” John said. “No lovebirds in the kitchen is my rule as chef, however. You two sit down, and we’ll get the celebration started.” 

---

The rest of the day was dedicated to it, low-key though they had to be. But it was fantastic regardless, and left them both tired when they finally got home and crawled into bed.

“Quiet without Roger and John here,” Freddie yawned as he laid back and snuggled against Brian. 

“We’ll have them over for another sleepover,” Brian said. “Now that I’m awake to be around for it!” 

Freddie smiled, but it fell a moment later. “Look. If you’d rather not talk about how it was for you, this curse...thing. I get it. But-” 

“You’re curious?” 

Freddie nodded. 

“I don’t mind talking about some of it,” Brian said. “I mean...some of it was amazing. It was like I was traveling outside of my body, and I could see so much. Different planets, different dimensions, different universes. No one acknowledged me ever; I don’t know if it meant I was some sort of ghost? God were some of those things weird too...I hate that I couldn’t bring pictures back of it all somehow, the things I could show people in the scientific community; they’d think I had faked it all, that’s how wild it was!” 

Freddie smiled again. “Sounds not so bad. I was worried about that. Where you were while you slept, where the creature had sent you in your mind, or whatever.” 

Brian bit his lip. “I did see other things. Timelines that might come to pass. Horrible things that might happen to us, and others. Terrifying looking creatures that just...roam. Wherever they please in our universe and others. And we’ll never know if they’re watching us or not.” 

Brian shivered, and pulled Freddie tight to his side. “That I didn’t like. That, and knowing that if you’d all failed by midnight, I wasn’t coming back.” 

The color drained from Freddie’s face. “What? The instructions said we had a week.” 

“No,” Brian shook his head. “I don’t know if that thing lied, or misremembered how much time it had given you, but you only had until midnight. Trust me, I...I knew. Closer it got the harder it felt to stay near my body, to get back to it-” 

Freddie didn’t realize how tightly he was holding onto Brian until Brian winced and chuckled. 

“It’s alright. You made it in time, and I’m here. Not going anywhere.” 

Freddie nodded. “I know that. I do. All the same, I can’t believe how close we let it get. You know if we had known, we would have rushed, we would have-” 

Brian gave him a gentle kiss. “I know. It’s okay, really.” 

“We’ll never talk of it again,” Freddie said, and pressed his face against Brian’s chest. “You’re here, and safe, and that’s what matters.” 

“Exactly,” Brian said, holding Freddie close with one arm while the other reached to the end table to turn on the bedside lamp. A childish and arguably useless protection against the things they now knew roamed the universe, but a necessary one all the same if they were to sleep at all. 

Invisible to them, outside their bedroom window, the creature glowered at them before floating off into the night. 

[orionsangel86]

Hey tumblr people, friends, SPN family,

You may have realised that my blog has become the virtual version of tumbleweed rolling through a desert in recent weeks/months. I noticed on checking my blog recently that I have had an influx of new followers which I think is predominantly thanks to a shout out from Shirley (@destieldrabblesdaily) which I am infinitely grateful for because I consider her one of the best blogs in the SPN fandom. It is for that reason among others that I feel pretty damn bad about not being around recently to share in your speculation, meta and general love for the show.

I haven’t said much since the finale, or even about the finale. I never wrote an episode review for any of the last 3 episodes of season 12. (still haven’t seen 12x21 and don’t plan to) I guess I just want to explain why.

In the past few months SPN has been losing its grip on me, I guess I always thought this would happen one day as it always has in the past with other things that I have falling in love and obsession with until I just… well… get over it. Usually its when a show finishes or movie franchise ends though, rather than whilst it’s still going on. I haven’t felt that itchy desire to constantly check my dash, or write meta or obsess over speculation for the show lately at all. I tried re-watching season 12 and I just couldn’t maintain my concentration. I instead started watching other shows – American Gods is fantastic – and getting out a bit more as well. Tumblr kinda sucked me into this pit where my social life pretty much dried up and became non-existent. Though in all fairness, tumblr also got me through a pretty nasty stint of depression.

I keep hoping that this will be temporary, that perhaps when season 13 comes to our screens that I’ll jump right back in, but I’m not so sure. I guess I’ll watch it, but I don’t know how much I’ll participate in fandom in the future. I want to, I still have that desire to get involved but I don’t have the energy or desire to write meta about the actual show right now. I guess I kinda feel like everything is already being said by the other fantastic meta writers on tumblr and my opinion isn’t really needed.

The thing is, I am tired of SPN. I am tired of the game they are playing with us. I say this, knowing full well that they are dangling destiel in front of us like a carrot dangled in front of a donkey, so close but still so far. Eventually we will get our carrot – of this I am almost certain – but they sure as hell will continue to put us through a bunch of utter crap before we get there.

This is what I am fed up with. I did start re-watching season 12 and I just can’t fathom some things that drove me crazy. Like why when we were first introduced to the British men of letters, it was two strong women who ruled the screen, but by the end, it was another two generic white men to add to our already generic white guy cast. They could have written it in so many different ways to how they did.

Billy’s death pissed me off, so did Alesha’s and Tasha’s. By the time they took Eileen from us I was fuming. Then when they went and wrote off Rowena with an off screen death only told to us in description form I had given up.

On top of this they continued to write scenes of non-con, scenes of violence against POC and women that could easily be avoided whilst maintaining suspense and drama, a dodgy plot point centering around a women fighting her right to choose against the white men trying to take that choice away from her, and on top of it all, fucking Lucifer still being a big part of the show when his character should have died at the end of season 11. His entire story this season was so boring I wanted to skip most of his scenes. I hated HATED his character.

I’m sorry to be negative. The show did some wonderful things this year that I am so happy about. Dean’s story arc was wonderful. His confrontation with Mary in 12x22 had me in tears and I screamed FINALLY out loud as he opened up and admitted things that he has kept inside for his whole life. Dean held this whole season together he really did. The emotional plot was wonderful, it’s what kept me around until the finale because I could see Dabb’s plan for the characters emotional development so clearly in the subtext and later text. Well, until 12x19 for Cas because after 12x19 I don’t understand a fucking thing Cas did and I bloody hope he really has been mind wammied by Jack all this time because otherwise it doesn’t make a lick of sense for his character development.

Ultimately, what season 12 did that was GREAT was threefold:

It built up Dean’s emotional development to its climax where he has finally let Sam ‘go’ and admit the years of abuse he suffered under John, as well as admitting that he was a parent to Sam rather than a brother. Dean’s entire story throughout the whole series has been building to this point and it was WONDERFUL to see.

It built up Sam’s story in the same way, in that he was able to finally break free from under Dean’s wing and accept his own responsibility and place in the world as a whole – as a leader and hero – rather than something tainted and wrong. Season 12 signalled the end of Winchester toxic co-dependency and I was HERE FOR THAT.

It gave us destiel. Now, I say this with certainty guys, although I know it is still contested. Consider it my parting gift to you. Destiel is real and we are going there. Season 12 basically gave it to us because it did things that it cannot now backtrack on. I have never been more certain. Even AFTER 8x17, after Dean’s confession, after “He’s in love… with humanity” and “it was all about saving one human” even after 11x19 and our Hunting Husbands, I still had a whole bunch of doubt on the topic. Now though? I don’t see how it is possible to watch 12x10, 12x12, 12x19 and now, the end of 12x23 without being like “hang on a freaking second – what the hell actually is going on with these guys?” Destiel is gonna happen. This is my speculation for you. Cas will be brought back but he will be brought back wrong and probably under Jack’s control and will walk away from Dean – still crying at his feet – all cold and emotionless as if Dean was nothing to him. Dean will then stop at nothing to get him back. I predict that will happen around the mid-season finale and it will be a big moment for destiel. Another 8x17 but more intense perhaps? Another ‘crypt scene’ but this time with a love confession from both sides? Guys I see it. I can’t not see it now. The one thing season 12 did was take away my doubts. Destiel is real and it is happening and I am pretty sure we will get there by end of season 13.

The problem is, this is no longer enough for me. Even if Season 13 starts with Cas coming back to life in some spectacular beauty and the beast moment which ends in a kiss and a cut to their wedding day… its still not enough anymore. I can’t watch this series just for a ship. I can’t keep going for the fucking carrot dangling in front of me when my hoofs are bleeding and raw and my back is breaking from the weight of all the shit I’ve been forced to carry. The carrot isn’t worth it.

I used to adore this show. Not for destiel, but for the stories, the mythology, the characters and their colourful world of Supernatural things. Now, the characters are slowly reaching peak development and I am getting fed up of watching them get beat down. I want them to have their peace, their happy ending. The stories are no longer fresh and exciting. They are Lucifer and his ridiculous Nephilim baby/not baby.

I am also so fed up of Cas’s story not making sense, of him being controlled or brainwashed or forced to do things he hates. Of his absence when it makes no sense (like when Claire is involved and not a word is spoken about him) or of writers writing him so off key that he comes across idiotic. (thanks Bucklemming). I can’t keep watching the writers butcher this character I adore with all my heart.  

I am so so happy for Wayward Sisters and I will support it with all my might. If only because these writers need to UNDERSTAND that they cannot keep killing off the female characters on this show like they mean nothing. Its just heartbreaking to think that we will never get Charlie, Eileen, Rowena, Billy, Alesha or any of the other female characters who have been wrongly killed off in Supernatural join the female cast of this spin off. I’m excited for Wayward Sisters more than I am for Supernatural right now, because Supernatural is just a massive disappointment for me.

I am sorry I feel this way, its been eating at me for a while. I think it’s the reason I have taken this break. I just can’t put all my time and energy into something that feels toxic to me. I live in fanfic at the moment because it is the characters I adore without the awful truth of canon – even if occasionally canon does still give us those fanfic moments – it’s the other moments that are the issue.

*sigh*

I’m sorry. Part of me desperately wants to hold on with all my might, to come back and throw myself into speculation and meta and all the stuff you guys are so awesome at, but another part of me is so so bitter its preventing me from feeling any joy from it.

Maybe when season 13 comes on I’ll forget this post and just start this blog up again. I certainly miss talking to the bloggers on here I consider my friends, I just feel that without contributing to anything I have no purpose on Tumblr, and I don’t want my negativity to affect anyone else. So in the meantime, this is goodbye. I may still visit and reblog stuff occasionally, but I won’t be writing anything for a while. A long while probably.

It’s been fun Tumblr, but from now on consider this an extended hiatus. Perhaps I’ll see you in the Autumn… perhaps this fleeting romance is over for good. I won’t know until I know. As for Supernatural, I have said my bit. Expect Destiel along with a side of bitter disappointment. Wayward Sisters will be amazing though. So long as they don’t let Bob Singer or Bucklemming anywhere near it that is.