#so I need to focus on doing more in my community not bitch about it on the internet and get mad at strawmen I made up to get mad at

[antimatteruniverse]

the older I get, the more I find some of the things I used to put huge stakes in just aren’t worth getting worked up over. Like, there’s a lot of anger worth having, I gotta direct my shit the right way.

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 

[itskybabes-blog]

Duke Dennis Drabble

Duke Dennis x fem!reader (no face claim but poc!reader friendly)

Part two: The Confession

Disclaimer: this is written by a dyslexic person – please forgive any grammar and spelling errors

TW: swearing, drinking and using derogatory language

Plot: After your big night at an AMP pool part (that you probs won’t remember tomorrow), you finally let your lil’ secret slip.

Word count: 672

ICYMI: part one

“What the fuck am I doing?” You slurred back in confusion. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You rise up from the bed and try to point your finger at him, but stumble forward because you was unaware of your own strength. Duke has to catch you before your pearly whites were scattered all over his floor.

“See, man,” Duke whines with you in his arms, “this is what I’m talking about”.

You move out his arms and squint your eyes at him, trying to focus on all three of him at once.

“Y/N, you can’t stand up straight. You got yourself stupid drunk and started twerking on everyone. Your nipple was fucking hanging out like you’s some fucking whore or sum,” Duke rants.

“Whore?!” – you sober up real quick – “You’re calling me a whore?” you exclaim back, shoving finger quotation marks in his face.

“Meanwhile, you’re here, throwing this stupid party full of thirsty clout-chasing bimbos who only wanna suck your dick, get your Ps and cut! Fucking lodging your tongue down some random girl’s face – you’d be lucky to not have herpes, right now!” You lay into him, using whatever left over competence you have. Dutch courage is certainly real.

“Whore?” You said again, this time with a soft chuckle - which we all know is not good. Duke knows you found nothing funny but couldn’t care because “you’re a fucking embarrassment!”

“Oh my fucking gosh, more fucking names,” you said with a dramatic sigh. You begin to pace around: “What else am I? A slut? A bitch? What else am I, Duke? Tell me!”

You end up in a couple centimetres away from Duke with a face full of fire and push him weakly (pathetically) away from her. His look of disgust softens – maybe he was being a little harsh.

So, he takes the punk move: “You know what, I don’t care. This is not even worth it, man. Fucking drunk!”

That one snapped a heartstring. Duke’s back faces you as he had his hand on the knob.

“You don’t care? You never cared about me, did you?” You come back at him.

“What?” He looked back, utterly confused you’d ever say that.

“You never fucking cared. I’m meant to be someone special to you – your best friend – and you only ever want me around when you don’t have a fuck buddy around. When you need a girl to make you look good when your hotline hoe ain’t picking up,” you start to spew some of your deep feelings.

Duke lets go of the handle and leans against the door. “Y/N, I-“

“You don’t fucking care about me. I fucking hop on a 2-hour flight weekly to see your ass and look all pretty for your stream. Then, you kick me out to entertain a next bitch, passing me off to the rest of the bros like I’m some community hoe. You never fucking cared about me. You never fucking did. You-“

“Are you jealous?” Duke saunters back to you, grinning. His diamond grill playing tricks with your hooded eyes.

“Huh? Where you get that from?” You feel your cheeks burn, turning your head to the side.

“As a friend, you care too much about my roster,” Duke tries to explain. He drops his head to try and make you look him in the eye, but you keep avoiding his accusatory gaze.

“You talking like we fucking or sum,” Duke continues to press you.

“Why would I want you, like, what? Like, that’s- Ha! Ewwww,” you try to act repulsed but you never got an A in drama. Your acting skills are subpar.

“Oh, OK. Just know: I’d drop my roster just for you.”

Your head whips around and look Duke square in his face. A goofy and toothy smile plasters across his face.

“You fucking play too fucking much. You can’t be trying to tease me and shit. Why would I fucking want you? You never cared about me before, why the fuck no-“ Duke’s pillowy lips press intensely on yours.

“Girl, shut up.”

“Yes, sir.”

A/N: here’s the second part! Now, I really hate writing smut so pls forgive me but I’m skipping over that. Pls enjoy this quick update :)

[justkending]

It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created. 

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me. 

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?” 

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt. 

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.” 

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare. 

He ignored him and rolled his eyes. 

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already. 

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately. 

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.” 

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs. 

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen. 

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets. 

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror. 

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself. 

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed. 

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips. 

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me. 

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage. 

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far. 

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside. 

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around. 

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way. 

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.” 

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands. 

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it. 

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it. 

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean. 

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself. 

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on. 

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders. 

He was in the perfect position for my plan. 

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him. 

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place. 

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it. 

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me. 

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it. 

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months. 

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold. 

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited. 

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him. 

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath. 

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off. 

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute. 

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly. 

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him. 

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them. 

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge. 

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better. 

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust. 

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.” 

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before. 

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.” 

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over. 

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game. 

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs. 

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him. 

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly. 

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs. 

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt. 

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.” 

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own. 

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back. 

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head. 

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure. 

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power. 

Two can play that game. 

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips. 

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect. 

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips. 

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit. 

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet. 

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me. 

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it. 

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately. 

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about. 

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed. 

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed. 

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled. 

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places. 

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up. 

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily. 

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered. 

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued. 

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.” 

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.” 

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.” 

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of. 

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier. 

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me. 

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.” 

“What side?” I looked up at him. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?” 

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back. 

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente​ @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

[mcytblrconfessions]

Hi, little hater here from earlier. At no point when writing that out did I think it was misogynistic, but like. Yeah it might have been a little bit. Idk if I would care enough to yap about it if it had been just another guy being added. Maybe I am holding her to higher expectations then I would for a male creator.

I was hoping for other female creators to get in, and maybe since she was the final person announced in the 6 we expected I'm salty cause she 'took' the hypothetical slot that other creators I was hoping for for lifesteal. And that's stupid, and looking back I know that that's stupid. And that's not on Kab, that's on Lifesteal for adding 6 guys and 1 girl, and that's on me for bitching about it in a public place.

I've been watching her for a while now, and I really do want her to succeed. I think some of my hesitancy for her in Lifesteal is the sort of lack of commitment to real storybeats that we saw in the final stretch of s5, and Kab deserves to be in better stories. She's at the top of the artform of mcrp, and so far Lifesteal has not been. I want Lifesteal to do better, and maybe Kab can bring some of that to the server, but like unless they can reach that level idk if its the right place for her. I just don't want to see her on a server that refused to meet the energy level she brings to things.

Idk man. I'm not that pressed about it, just between seasons is the time to yap cause theres no streams to watch to focus on instead, by july 7th I'll be hyped to see her there. I'm sorry about that prior ask. I will be paying Kaboodle the unfair hater tax in the form of a gifted twitch sub tonight.

first off, thank you for the apology.

i dont have any real bias for lifesteal or kaboodle. i started watching lifesteal this week and im not familiar with kaboodle at all. and the reason ive stayed away from pvp focused mcrp is because it's so heavily male dominated especially lifesteal, ive been making jokes that there's a secret no girls allowed rule since ive heard abt it.

this fandom has a long history of not treating women well and when a woman is a fan-favorite she's really only allowed to be 1 of 3 things, a fighter, a girl-boss, or ur soggy poor wet little meow meow. its just not fair to creators to be essentialized and treated as support for their male peers. made to fit into men's stories instead of getting recognized and respected for their own. and smps themselves have horrible ratios, my favorite is hermitcraft but 5(4?) out of 27 is less then 20 percent! that's terrible! there's so many wonderful women ccs out there yet so little space is made for them. 2(3? idk squiddo's gender) out of 31 is the ratio for lifesteal 6. i dont need to point out how bad that is.

so to get an ask with "I just don't think that the vibes are going to be right with her there" put me really on edge. it's putting the fault on her, and it's ignoring that there was a group of lifestealers who already agreed that she was a good fit because she's on the smp! she's on the team! the difference between "the vibes arent going to be right with her there" and "they can't reach her level" is huge. but you know lifesteal better then me. if you say they cant match her energy i believe you! but if it's true, her and lifesteal dont work out because she did put her all in and they didnt that is still completely different from the thesis of your original ask

ive turned off the reblogs of the other post but i hope moving forward we can be more critical and careful with how we treat our women creators. there's already so little space for them in creator spaces let's not push them out of community spaces too.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: heard of hearing and/or partially blind Steve + his parents realizing. Maybe they come home & see how their house has changed to be more accessible for Steve? Or something like that.

HONESTLY THIS ONE HURTED. But as usual, you provide the quality shit!!!! Poor Steve, but also if it ain't hurt/comfort, then did I even write it? Everyone loves Steve. Except his parents. His parents suck. But everyone else? Angels. Hope you love it darling!!! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------------------

Concussions were a bitch.

Multiple concussions in a three year period were a bitch.

But the worst part was when he noticed he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Robin had been talking to him at work on his left side, whispering about some customer that was walking down every single aisle as if they didn’t know what movies were out, and he didn’t even notice until she switched sides halfway through a sentence.

He pretended it was fine, that he’d heard her the whole time, but then she asked him a question he couldn’t answer. She walked to his left side and said something, and when he shook his head, she bit her lip, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Robs. I can still hear out of the other one,” Steve said to comfort her, but also to comfort himself.

If he lost it in one ear, he could lose it in the other, and then what?

She tried to convince him to get a hearing aid, but he didn’t think he needed one.

“Your parents sent you money for medical expenses, use it for this!”

But he couldn’t.

And then he started getting blurry vision in both eyes. The left was rapidly growing worse, and Dustin noticed.

“Dude, you’re squinting. Do you have a migraine? You could’ve had Eddie drive me.”

“Nah, just tired. Trying to focus.”

Part of that was true. The squinting helped him focus a little, but he knew he had to do something about it.

So he sat down with Robin and came up with a plan.

He hated every fucking second of it.

“You get a scan first, we need to know if this is gonna keep getting worse or what permanent damage is there. You get glasses-“

“I might not need-“

“You get glasses. Then you get fitted for a hearing aid.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve rolled his eyes.

But looking back, he was grateful Robin made him do it.

The doctors had been amazed he was able to talk with the damage done.

“Will I lose my ability to talk?” He asked, realizing that not being able to hear, see, and talk was too much for him to deal with.

“I think we can work through some physical therapy type exercises to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m glad you came in now and not a few years from now.”

Robin never said ‘I told you so,’ probably sensing that Steve wasn’t coping well with the news.

They told him he would most likely lose all hearing over the years, and his vision would progressively get worse, though it would most likely plateau and he wouldn’t lose it completely.

They said he needed to do vocal exercises every day, brain exercises as often as possible, and to come back the moment he recognized any change in his speech.

So he lived with the anxiety of not being able to communicate with anyone he loved every second of every day.

Dustin, Will, Mike, and Max had done research for weeks, finding things they could do to help him live in his house alone. Sure, they were there often, almost enough to be considered roommates, but that wouldn’t always be the case.

They would all grow up and leave.

Max had lost her own vision after Vecna, only able to see light and sometimes movement, but never any detail.

The day he got his glasses, she threatened him with murder if he didn’t wear them.

“The more you strain your eyes, the worse they’ll get. Wear the glasses. I’m sure you look just as cute as always.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t want to piss Max off, so he wore them all day every day.

Dustin had found a way to wire the doorbell to the lights in the whole house, so if it rang, and somehow Steve couldn’t hear, he’d see the lights flash three times from any room he was in.

He’d done something similar with the walkie, so Steve would know if someone was trying to communicate with him.

Will figured out a light system for the phone, where it flashed with green while it rang and red if he missed a call that went to their voicemail.

It only worked if he was in the kitchen, living room, or his bedroom and paying attention, but the thought behind it made him want to cry.

He got debilitating migraines frequently, which left him bedbound, unable to even get up to use the bathroom on his own sometimes.

They figured out a signal for his walkie that he could push the button in a sort of Morse code to make sure someone knew he needed help.

If he couldn’t get to his walkie for some reason, Dustin programmed buttons on all the phones: *1 called Robin, *2 called Eddie, and *3 called Dustin.

All of his meds were moved to the drawer by his bed, with a reminder note in every room of his house, just in case he forgot.

Which was apparently another thing he had to worry about: his memory.

The doctors seemed to think he would be okay if he stayed active and healthy otherwise, and definitely needed to avoid another concussion, but they did say he could notice some issues as he got older.

Mike looked up what vitamins he needed to help boost his memory and vision, and increased his iron intake to hopefully stave off some of the migraines before they even started. He put the instructions with his medication reminders all over the house.

But what surprised him most was what happened when his parents came home early on a random Thursday morning.

He was dealing with a bit of a migraine hangover, the day before being a blur of calling for help, reaching for his meds, and Eddie arriving to make sure he stayed hydrated and made it to the bathroom as needed.

Eddie was still here, in fact.

So when he heard them banging around downstairs, his eyes flew open and he looked at a still sleeping, very shirtless Eddie next to him in his bed.

Nothing happened obviously. Eddie just ran hot.

But his parents had already been questioning him a lot about not having a girlfriend in a while and hanging out with “queers” like those two things alone could make him gay.

And if they saw Eddie like this, they would make assumptions.

Assumptions that would get him kicked out of the house that everyone just worked so hard to make accessible for him.

So he got up as quickly, but quietly as he could, ignoring the buzz in his ear where his hearing aid was loose from sleeping in it. He wasn’t technically supposed to, but he didn’t like anyone touching his head on migraine days so it stayed in.

Eddie didn’t budge, and he hoped he stayed that way while he tried to keep his parents busy.

Then the lights flashed and he heard the distant high pitched ring of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” His father asked as Steve ran down the stairs.

“Steven?” His mother asked as he flew past them and made it to the front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled excitedly as Steve glared at him.

“Dustin, not now.”

“Why? I saw Eddie’s van, so I figured-“

“Who is at the door, Steven?”

Steve closed his eyes and heard Dustin mumble ‘shit’, before he turned around to face his parents.

His glasses were dirty, but he could see that the looks on their faces were not impressed.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” His mom asked.

“Is that a hearing aid?” His dad added.

“Dustin, I’ll call you later.”

“Answer the questions.”

“I started wearing glasses and the hearing aid after a few concussions that caused a lot of damage.”

“What’s going on with the lights? Do they always flicker like that?”

Steve hadn’t really expected them to care much about him, but it still hurt a little how quickly they became concerned about the house instead of him.

“They’re a visual aid so if I’m not wearing my hearing aid or my hearing gets worse, I’ll know when the doorbell rings.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie said from the stairs, luckily not shirtless.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s dad didn’t waste time with pleasantries, he never did unless someone had something to offer him.

“I’m Eddie. Steve’s friend.”

“His friend?” Steve’s mom was hesitant to be obvious about what she meant, but everyone could understand where she was going with the questioning.

“Yeah, or would you prefer if we were boyfriends?”

Steve couldn’t help the snort he let out.

Eddie wasn’t the type to hide himself away, but he wouldn’t purposely make Steve’s life harder.

“Is there a reason you’re here?”

“I was taking care of him yesterday. It got late so I stayed.”

“Take care of him?” His mother turned back towards him. “Are you sick?”

“I get migraines.”

“We all get migraines, Steven,” his father said as he crossed his arms.

“But we all don’t get the kind that leave us crying and throwing up for hours on end because we can’t even see straight, do we, Richard?” Eddie asked as he walked closer to them.

“I don’t know who you think you are-“

“I told you, I’m Eddie. And as far as I’m concerned, I, and quite a few other people in town, are quite good at taking care of Steve. Unlike his parents.”

“Steve’s a grown man-“

“Yeah, now. But where were you when he wasn’t and got the concussions that caused this?”

Steve could feel his head pulsing, and he knew his migraine would be back at full force if he didn’t rest.

He took his hearing aid out for a bit of relief, the volume of his father and Eddie arguing going down considerably.

He massaged his neck the best he could, knowing that the release of some tension would at least keep the pain at bay until this could be over.

Then, he saw the phone start flashing green.

“What is going on with the phone?”

His mother directed the question at him, but Eddie stopped berating his father long enough to answer her.

“It’s so Steve knows it’s ringing if he happens to have his hearing aid out like he does now. In case no one is here with him and someone needs to reach him.”

“That explains not answering our calls.”

“I think that could just be that you don’t call at all.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve.

“Go upstairs, Stevie,” he said quietly into his right ear. “I can handle them.”

Steve was too tired, too frustrated, too borderline on a migraine to fight.

He walked upstairs, ignoring his father’s protests, his mother’s pleas, and Eddie standing in front of them both raising his voice to be heard.

Everything felt blurry as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes when he made it up the stairs.

His room was dark still, the blackout curtains still drawn closed, lights off, like Eddie had suspected it might be a bad day again.

His pills were on the table, a cup of water next to them. He set his glasses down and took them, trusting that Eddie followed the instructions perfectly.

He always did.

He always took such good care of him.

He came at the drop of a hat, even if Robin was already here. He brought Steve’s favorite soda, insisted it helped with migraines even though it probably didn’t. He massaged the spot on Steve’s neck that always held the most tension, pulled him close until he fell asleep on the couch or in the bed, always on his chest.

He’d been learning and teaching everyone sign language too.

Steve had started learning immediately, and so did Robin, but Eddie had insisted on it too, and started teaching the kids. He’d been showing Max one sign at a time, putting her fingers and hands into the movement so she knew how to do it.

And Steve didn’t think he could love Eddie more.

But he figured if Eddie was interested in him, he would have made a move already.

He could very distantly hear Eddie’s voice saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. With his hearing aid out, he usually couldn’t hear anything downstairs from his room.

He closed his eyes, settling under the blankets so he could try to do what Eddie wanted him to.

He drifted in and out, tired, but not quite enough to fall asleep all the way.

At some point, Eddie had made it back to the room and got in bed, his hand running through Steve’s hair gently.

“Eds?”

“It’s alright, Stevie. Your parents are gone. They won’t be back again for a while.”

“Mkay.”

He let himself drift again, safe with Eddie there.

[firstkanaphans]

if i have permission to be a bit of a bitch in your inbox (feel free to ignore this if not), the dichotomy people build between bl and queer media is sooooo fascinating. and of course by that i mean it gives me hives. the universalizing of 'real queer experiences' is obnoxious as hell, but how its been applied to ofts has really shown me why i find it so obnoxious. most of the people who hold this dichotomy would never classify a bl that ignores homophobia as 'authentically queer' media. but i definitely saw people who hoped that the 'authentically queer' ofts would exist in a bubble without any slutshaming, or that it would be resolutely shut down in show. but in my aroallo experience? that would be as inauthentic as the no homophobia bubble, so where does that leave us?

also the circular logic in the bl vs queer media arguments is mind numbing. 'bl doesnt cover these types of themes' yeah dude because you forcibly remove everything with those themes from the bl category in your head. 'queer media must acknowledge homophobia' the idea that a story by queer people about queer characters isnt really queer because it chooses to focus on joy or discovery or any other facet of queer existence is so fucking depressing. go hug a queer friend and think about why you feel queerness is defined by suffering before anything else.

Oh, hey, you found my soap box, Anon! Let me just step on up there with you for a minute.

So, first off, let me just say how much I hate the term “authentically” queer. It seems to suggest that in order to be queer, you have to be queer a certain way. As an ultra femme lesbian, the queer community often makes me feel like I’m not queer enough. That I don’t understand the hardships that come with being gay because I am “straight-passing.” This is the same thing people do to BLs. News flash: if you’re queer, you’re queer. Period. Congratulations, that’s all it takes to be authentic!

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a large percentage of the people I see using this designation are straight women who think that queer suffering is a necessary part of the queer experience, but a lot of “authentically queer” people—me included—don’t want to be reminded of our real-life suffering every time we turn on the TV. Heartstopper is triggering for me. Bad Buddy is not. As a queer woman currently living in Ron DeSantis’s Florida,  I deserve to be able to turn on the TV every once in a while and not be reminded that there are people in the world who want me dead.

I’ve learned that when people describe a BL as “authentically queer,” what they actually mean is “This BL feels more Western”—the racist insinuation there being that Western media is inherently better.

I feel like The Eclipse is a good example of this hypocrisy. No one has ever called The Eclipse “authentically queer” despite the fact that it delivers one of the most nuanced takes on the dangers of systemic homophobia that I have seen anywhere. The writers of both the source material and the script are gay men. The director is queer. That seems to meet all of the qualifications these people set for “authentically queer” and yet no one has ever questioned that The Eclipse is a BL. Why? Because it incorporates traditionally Asian/yaoi humor tropes such as the pratfall and the accidental kiss. 

Are you sensing a pattern? It’s not the queer-ness of a piece of media that determines whether it is seen as “authentic.” It is its “Western-ness.”

Let me be very clear: All BLs are “authentically queer” media because the only requirement needed for a piece of media to be “authentically” queer is for the characters to be queer. And if you don’t like that, then maybe stop watching BLs.

If the people who were producing these shows had a problem with the term, that would be another discussion, but they don’t. P’Jojo has never advertised Only Friends as anything other than a BL. The fandom did that for him. And with all due respect, if the people making the fucking thing are calling it a BL, then it’s a fucking BL.

So, yeah. Not liking BLs doesn’t make you cool. It makes you a bigot. The fact that the term has become so derogatory is rooted in both racism and misogyny because this was originally a genre created by women, for women, and the hobbies of women are so often infantilized.

BLs are queer media. Die mad about it.

[chribby]

pluto in aquarius rambles

Pluto in Aquarius = Power to the People

Pluto = Power

Aquarius = Human, the Water Bearer, rules Groups of people, and demagogues.

I have several predictions based on Pluto in Aquarius. Pluto in Aquarius will be ruled by a Saturn in Pisces when it moves on Jan 20th, 2024... and as we can see, people are receiving reprecussions (Saturn) based on their Beliefs (Pisces)

Previously, I’ve predicted that it would be the Fall of Silicon Valley. In fact, while Pluto was briefly in Aquarius this year, Saturn stationed in Pisces on March 7th (One day before my birthday, lol) and Silicon Valley Bank ended up doing a bank run.

EDIT: 02/23. I just checked. Saturn did go into Pisces 03/07, but Pluto wasn’t in Aquarius until 03/23. I do consider Pluto to rule financial systems, and I do think the Saturn transit did spark the bank run, but I wanted to correct this! I am sorry! Pluto spiked the same bank run on Black Monday 2008, and led to the subprime mortgage crisis. So, Saturn-Pluto, but NOT Pluto in Aquarius. I apologize.

I think it’s fun to use astrology in tandem with what we’re experiencing because as above, so below. But, it’s more fun to be able to recognize the energy that you’re looking at.

So, here’s a little loose list of things that I think will happen during Pluto in Aquarius.

1. Power (Pluto) to the People (Aquarius) = Our reliance on these big corporate structures (Capricorn) will lower and lower, especially as we see ourselves getting punished for speaking about what we believe in. I feel like we will question sources of power, and then look into finding our power within ourselves. I feel like there will be more demagogues lol. But mostly, it will be people turning to their communities.

2. Political Revolutions - Last time Pluto was in Aqua was from 1778-1798 and I swear to god they got that bitch cracking like CRAB LEGS. They had

Irish Rebellion

Settler-Indigenous Wars

Indigenous rebellion against spanish colonization

Haitian Revolution

Northwest Indian War …

Like THEY WASN’T FUCKING PLAYING. So, you already know what time it is. I guess my question is how will the INTERNET play into this?

3. Ass play is about to be as common as kissing in my opinion.

4. Here’s more general predictions lol

cyber crimes, technological terrorism worse than data breaching, pen testing (Pluto = Terrorist activity)

online tombs

cyberpollution

Camgirling is about to change in a new way.

Digital sex work

Digital smut (erotica writers? You’re up)

Digital Decay will be addressed. We will see the first ruined images due to natural jpeg artifact build up

Digital Third Space/Metaverse will be expanded upon. Focusing on a decentralization of both this technology and the need for this “digital third space” will help this from being some terrorist rich kids fantasy.

4. OH AND LIKE I FUCKING SAID. SILICON VALLEY WILL FALL.

5. 3D is up, more focus on 3D. I saw a tweet about that, but I think that a lot of the kids will be more advanced at 3D vs how we as kids went towards digital art? Idk how to make that make sense but yea.

6. Cybertheft. Feels like there is about to be A GLARING VULNERABILITY LOL THAT JUST WENT UNCOVERED UNTIL NOW and it will get EXPLOITED AND TORE TF UP

7. Everybody thinks they’re fuckin Jon Stewart … one thing I haye about us Aquarii we don’t know how to shut the fuck up sometimes…

8. Streamers held the long con enough for people to forget responsible pirating, but this will turn on its head during this transit I think…

9. Looking at the internet….

Pluto rules generations. So pluto in Aquarius will be a new generation. And they will be weird as hell.

Pluto in Scorpio = When World Wide Web was created.

Pluto in Aquarius = WWW Square. And I feel like now, we’re looking at the damages and transformations the internet underwent since the web was created. It feels much more hollow.

I think Pluto Squares tell us how to fix things. Just saying.

This is all I have… for now….

[dafodils-on-the-moon]

!!!! So many questions bc I love this with all my heart <3 First, it's freaking hilarious that he became jester because he was "difficult to handle." LOVE that. Second, I gotta know, what does everyone else think about him? Arthur? Gwen? Morgana? Is Morgana doomed to die by the hands of a COURT JESTER?????

Ok so. Crucial part of this Au: Uther knows Merlin in Balinor’s son but does NOT know abt the magic. Merlin does not know about being Balinor’s son. Uther kept him cause he thinks it would be a good idea to have a dragonlord on hand that's loyal to Camelot, given what he's keeping under the castle.

Also I'm very aroace and don't wanna write romance for a while, so no romantic Murther.

Instead, Uther raises Merlin and Arthur as brothers. He deeply encourages the loyalty to one another as keeping Merlin loyal is essetail and Merlin is a very valuable asset that bears protecting. He emphasises to Arthur that as the eldest, Merlin is his responsibility and he should take care of him. Merlin is his younger brother.

Arthur takes to this role like a wildfire. Protective as SHIT over his new baby brother (Merlin is two years younger), esp. Since he was… not doing too hot when he first got to the castle. He was greiving and seemed *terrified* and didn’t speak at all for months. He was sickly too, for reasons no-one could pinpoint. Arthur had made it his mission to cheer Merlin up, as no one should be that sad. He and Merlin communicate at first via drawings.

He only seemed to improve after he started talking quietly to an imaginary freind he named “Kiggah.” It seemed to help cause merlin slowly started talking to Arthur and then in general and his health imrpved too.

Yeah… Merlin’s imaginary freind is Killgarrah lol.

Killgarrrah, or Kiggah as a now 5 year old Merlin could pernounce, is getting a major overhaul in this AU. His is going to be far far less of a bastard. Cause dragons are too cool for him to be the absolute worst.

In this AU Kiggah actually cares more THAT HIS ENTIRE RACE WAS ERADICATED than that he was trapped under the castle. Cause, fr, that is not the part id focus on. Also I gave him a family before, sorry man. Kiggah was also really really fond of dragonlings and hatchlings and was very excited to see the hatching of his first great-grandhatchling before the purge. Ow.

Anyway, Merlin is TERRIFIED of being in Camelot. He’s terrified he’s going to say something wrong and reveal his secret and die. He blames himslef for his mother’s death (cause he’s like 4 1/2 and thats normal for kids that age) and more specifically, his magic. So he supresses the shit out of it, which is why he’s so sickly.

Kiggah senses Merlin basically killing himslef and tries coaching Merlin into using his magic again. Adopts Merlin as his own hatchling. Kiggah doesn’t know Merlin’s dad is Balinor, but he DOES know he’s emrys, magic itself. As a result, Kiggah views Merlin as a fellow magical creature and raises him accordingly. He… doesn’t really get how human hatchlings are supposed to work.

Merlin starts acting weirdly dragonlike. His growling, he’s biting people, hee’s climbing everything, hoarding things and has a major fixation with fire. He is gettign “difficult to handle” as UTHER, assumes this is just how dragonlordlings are, (good gracious), but needs a way to coverup the fact he’s raising one.

Fooleswurth, nuerdodivergent in ye-old times, sees Merlin and his like “haha verily. Reminds me of when I was that age, I was just the same. He must have “The Jester’s Spark, haha.”’ Uther goes “yes and” and now fooleswurth has an apprentice and Uther has a way to explain why his ward is so weird.

Anyway, Kiggah is NOT excited about Merlin’s new older sister, but Merlin loves her. He is very excited for whenever Morgana’s magic manifests. She grows on Kiggah. (Esp. With all teh trouble she gives Uther). Morgana’s going to be fine.

She and Merlin get on like a house on fire. Gossipy bitches. Morgana sics Melrin and his “jester’s privolegde” on bothersome nobles to insult them into the ground.

Gwen becomes Morgana’s maidservent, and she Morgana and Merlin are great friends.

[scoobydoodean]

i’d like you to know you’ve made me much more of a bitter deangirl when it comes to the trap. like i still love the idea of it, of them reconnecting in purgatory of all places, and i still like the idea of lots of what dean says re: should’ve asked cas to stay and i forgive you and talking *about* his anger, but… dean had a right to be angry, including at cas. and yeah it’s good that dean apologized, for the sake of healthy communication cause that’s what you do when you’ve said hurtful things in an argument regardless of who’s “right”, but cas also should’ve apologized again. in fact, i can’t remember so i could be completely misremembering, but does cas ever actually apologize to dean beyond expressing the sentiment of feeling bad that mary died?

and i’m also thinking about the conversation they have before being separated. i like the angst of cas’s line re: i left but you didn’t stop me, but again, dean was not the only one in that argument. to leave was very much cas’s choice, and it feels kinda unfair to put that on dean, regardless of whether dean saying smth would’ve actually gotten cas to stay (which, to dean, probably would’ve seemed unlikely given cas’s past habits). and also, cas saying dean couldn’t move on, that’s actually fucking heartbreaking and almost… cruel. iirc it’d been at most a couple weeks since his mom (his mom!) had been killed!! plus dean never got to say goodbye, again!! of course he couldn’t just move on!

idk idk… anyway i believe i’ve sent an ask about your opinions on the trap before lol, and sorry about this long ass message, but i recently saw a gifset about that conversation (before being attacked) and all the notes were like ‘yes cas you tell him!’ ‘dean needed to hear that!’ ‘finally got dean’s head out of his ass!’ and it kinda made me annoyed for dean which. brainrot. but whatever. bitter deangirls unite, dean deserves the support 😭😭

context

LMAO sorry for my tumblr arc culminating in me turning full bitter deangirl ig and taking some of you down with me (I'm not sorry actually I'm having a ball in this bitch).

Cas's attempts at apologies are cataloged here. So he does try to apologize. But how many times has Cas been "sorry" only to do the thing he apologized for again? I mean the fact that he keeps "apologizing" for lack of communication and unilateral decisions over things that impact other people besides him and secret deals that blow up in all of their faces over and over and over and over shows that he is... not actually that sorry? Because if you're actually sorry, you actually change your behavior. Except Cas thinks "getting a win" (while actively digging a deeper hole in his relationship with Dean) is the way to "apologize" and make everything better instead of just... changing his behavior. And whatever his latest big plan to fix everything is never works and instead actively makes his relationships and his own self esteem worse. From the outside perspective, what Cas is doing (apologizing then doing the thing he just apologized for again) is just kind of... the ultimate way of telling a person you claim to love that their feelings actually have very little value to you. I mean Cas would be horrified by the idea that he doesn't actually value Dean's feelings, but what conclusion is Dean supposed to come to? Is it any wonder that Dean is perpetually confused about what exactly Cas thinks of their relationship? Is it any wonder that he reached a point where he couldn't stand to hear one more of Cas's meaningless apologies? To maintain any semblance of a relationship with Cas, Dean has to focus on what he feels about Cas's intentions (intentions Dean has always had faith in being good) but that faith and care increasingly forces him to ignore aspects of their relationship that are deeply hurtful because Cas refuses to do his part in addressing their issues in any meaningful way. It's just a vicious cycle of Dean trying to communicate that their lack of communication is upsetting and Cas pretending to listen and apologizing but clearly not actually listening or understanding the gravity of the situation and how it is slowly building a rift between them over years (with perhaps the most striking and hurtful example being The Future) until the secret over soulless Jack becomes "the straw that broke the camel's back" and Dean absolutely explodes at the end of season 14... and then... still... Cas's secrets remain—to the bitter fucking end.

Also yeah tbh Cas's "I left but you didn't stop me" makes my eyes roll so hard. Painfully stupid dialogue with unpleasant (though likely unintentional) implications (as linked in thread above).

[penvisions]

dev is curious + taking a small breather

so i will be taking a short break from posting fic here (aside from the two commissions i'm working on) in wake of the plagiarism and hateful comments, i've received so much love to counter act it but with what's going on in my personal life, i think i need to just focus for a second on the outside world

but i wanted to get a feel for what y'all think about an alternative / divergent plot for {by the grit of sandpaper}. i teased in a comment response and in this post about an additional arc before the final chapter. but i scrapped it because i got in my head about the angst and negative feedback i've gotten on how much i put into my fics. so i'm gonna have y'all help me ♡ either way the fic will have a happy ending!!

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @picketniffler @joeldjarin

[goldenpinof]

curious about your perspective – what do you think is the primary reason for the current comeback, and for the large scale of it (daily videos, new heavily marketed merch, etc)? are they trying to make up some monetary loss? is it true revitalized passion? the influence of the new management? lead-up to a major project/announcement? i'm guessing there's an element of at least the first three, but interested in your opinion as a noted non-cynical cynic (compliment btw)

under the cut because that's a lot. and it's not even all of my thoughts, unfortunately.

no one is gonna read it. but if you are, i'm sorry in advance.

ahaha. about merch. did you notice how they just continue to promote the calendar and the catboy sweater even though the initial release and promo had a deadline aka till December 1st? this is a fishy marketing right there. and i would love to know: why they did what they did (i'd assume they printed more calendars than people ordered by Dec 1st, but that's not our problem as customers. we shouldn't have been put into a framework in the 1st place if there was a chance for this shit to go south. this theory goes against the "pre-order" with a start of shipping in 2-3 weeks); why their managers allowed it (from a legal perspective); and why dnp didn't say anything. anyways.

i do think that Dan is trying to compensate for wad losses. and i know that he was "joking" about not making money or making negative money on tour. but i saw ticket sales a day before each show (only public information, not the inside official data from venues), it's still on my blog. and the sales didn't look good. so, how much of it was a joke? and compensating by making content that we and they enjoy isn't a bad thing, btw! i also think that he feels guilty for leaving us and the dnp brand behind for so long without actually giving us anything in return. thus so many comments on this 5-year hiatus and potential future ones. blame youtube originals, i know. not really his fault, but his choice of (the lack of) communication is his fault. and again, i always come back to wad. something fucking clicked in his head when he saw not as many people as he hoped for (or expected), how dedicated were some of those who still supported him during wad, and also he realised that without stronger managers he was not gonna make it solo. and he dragged Phil along because they do everything together and only then it works the best, and also dnpg's return in full force needed new energy for the amount of sponsorships they decided to do (i think, it's mainly Phil's pushing, because he is pro-sponsorships, they just need to be more careful with it on dnpg because Dan (hopefully) has principles when it comes to this. which is amazing. you go, girl!)

i'm very suspicious of dnp's new management right now. so idk. i think, again, most of it comes from Phil, because Phil thrives on their gaming channel, and that's basically the only easy way to survive on youtube and make money right now (for him). i'm glad dnp separated dnpg from their solo careers at least on the management and content levels. it gives Phil the room to use dnpg as a brand to pitch and fund his ideas/projects if it's ever needed. and now, after we survived the hiatus, they can pause dnpg for a couple of months to focus on their solo projects without losing the majority of the audience because technically we would know the reason and also we grew a thicker skin.

i do think that Dan is using dnpg to later help himself with a stand-up special or tour or some sort of series (danisnotokay). i also think he will use it to promote wad dvd (which is good. i will be disappointed if he doesn't use dnpg. like, bitch, why are we even here then? those who went through wad with him, i mean). i wonder if Inter Talent (i'm separating their name intentionally at his point because they piss me off) was smart enough to announce Dan and Phil's signings 2 weeks after UTA announced Dan to just make us pay attention to Dan's solo career again. as a hint of something coming our way. you know what i mean? i wonder if it was intentional. like UTA made a huge announcement, Dan retweeted it and posted it on instagram stories. it was a big deal. meanwhile, dnpg began thriving again and our eyes were on Dan anyway, so of course we noticed that solo career was on the maps again. Inter Talent was basically silent as another representative of Dan (and Phil), despite having them on the website for at least a month. and now 2 weeks after UTA's announcement (which was on November 22, 2023) Inter Talent was like, "hello? do you remember we signed Dan? and also Phil, and their joint channel?" Dan said wad dvd is almost cooked. wouldn't it be genius to stir our interest up step by step? (a part of me still thinks that Inter Talent's social media managers are just slow as fuck though. also they don't even care to check facts about their clients. UTA didn't fuck the announcement up like that, btw. and i doubt Inter Talent realises how nosy dnp's audience is, and that we are very likely gonna notice and spread even this stupid announcement. maybe they are dumb and it's me who is a fucking genius planning steps to present wad dvd to the masses, ugh. when will Dan pay me, like for real.)

i'm surprised you don't think it's heavily connected to new projects. i would bet my kidney it does. Dan will fuck off the moment he needs to focus on danisnotokay or someone offers to sponsor another tour (which, please, someone do. i need to see him for professional reasons). the question is, fuck off for how long and if it's gonna be communicated thoroughly or not. i'm not saying he will leave for 6 months without giving us something in return to balance things out. no, no, no. i don't think he would dare. but 3-4 weeks, maybe 2 months? sure.

is it true revitalized passion? well. *nervous laughter* i'm gonna defend Phil like i'm a phillie, even tho i'm not. he wanted it just as much as we did. so i believe it's a true revitalized passion at least on his part. i hope he fights for it if it's necessary, i hope he asks us for help if needed. i hope he threatens Dan with an actual divorce and forever home if needed. like, bitch, if there's a chance to keep dnpg alive without Dan actually losing his will to live, we should use that chance. Dan's stubbornness and delulus are not the reason to kill the most fun and profitable thing they ever created aka dnp brand. let it exist, even if alongside solo projects, even if it's 2-3 videos a month. damn, even 1 video (i don't mean during pauses made specifically for the peaks of solo projects). i do think Dan enjoys the attention, money, and possibilities their returned audience can give him. he also enjoys working with Phil. he certainly does not enjoy promoting their videos. and he is lucky he has Phil for that. is it a true passion for the gaming channel and joint branding solemnly? i genuinely don't think so. now, this dnp brand puts Dan into a framework, unfortunately. and i understand his desire to grow as a "strong independent Dan", and i wish him the best. i will root for him no matter how much of a floppy-ding-dong it can potentially be. i want him to fulfill his dreams and have a team that will fight for his interests. and i hope to god, UTA and Inter Talent are the ones. don't fucking tempt me with your unprofessionalism. but do i think Dan's head and heart belong to dnpg or dnp brand? no. i'm happy that he is at least trying. a part of me doesn't even care about the reason. i'm curious, but in hindsight, it wouldn't matter or change anything.

other thoughts, because apparently i decided to vomit on a keyboard tonight:

i'm glad dnp took back a bit of control over the editing on dnpg. i hope they will try to edit more themselves when gamingmas is over. or they will teach their editors better. because man, we need to slow down with these cuts.

i do think that dnp brand will expand, and dnpg and merch aren't the only things we should expect. (twitch, podcast or liveshows, onlyfans or its equivalent, vlogging series not limited by ditl, and other things that i forgot). reaction videos are already a thing and it's very funny because it's what youtube wants, so Dan must feel amazing right now falling for it :)) it's good thought because it's fun and torture for all parties involved.

i think by these reaction videos they are trying to rewrite their internet history a little bit for those who are new. it's not gonna work with us but at least dnp can control the narrative in new people's heads (i wonder for how long though).

with new people, the phandom will become more generic and dnp will love that. it can actually help Dan with new projects i think. Phil as well, but we don't know shit about it right now.

i wonder if Dan returns to working with charities.

if they involve more phannies, not only artists, it's gonna be interesting.

in case i'm wrong, don't step on my neck, i don't know anything for a fact. half of it is alleged, the other half is wishful thinking <3

[godsfavdarling]

Here's my acosf review. If you enjoy sjm and acotar pls don't read.

Also, this isn't much of a review. I just had to get this out of me.

The review is: this shit stinks just like everybody's arousal in this fucking book. Imagine being able to smell everybody's sex stink all the time. Disgusting.

1. The book should be half as long.

2. It reads like a fanfic and as if it was written by a man at the same time, which is strange, but congrats Sarah! You must be the first to ever achieve that.

3. Nesta is the only thing I liked.

4. Why was this sooooo long?

5. Sarah, please, I'm begging you: stop writing smut and focus on writing a good story.

summary:

In this final (for now) continuation about our favourite group of friends, we get to follow Nesta, Feyre's sister, who's been a million times more interesting from the beginning. Nesta is in her spiraling crazy hoe bitch era and spends some of Rhysand's money, which he doesn't like even though he's the fairy version of Jeff Bezos. Nesta is told she can't be a little hoe anymore and is locked away in one of Rhysand's houses "for her own good."

You see, when Tamlin locked Feyre away in his mansion for her own good, he was a bad, bad fairy. But locking Nesta up is totally okay because they just love her. Thank God she has Cassian around, her pilates instructor, who makes sure she eats well and exercises every day before she goes to this huge af library to put books away. There, she meets some girls who've been through it and try to find peace in their work and community. But Nesta thinks they should start working out.

At last, Nesta has some friends who also love smut. Good for them. Nesta has to find some horcruxes or something to stop some people, something, something cauldron. Anyway, she meets some bad guy and pisses herself <3

Also, Feyre is pregnant, and Rhys is a piece of shit, but I guess he is our favorite book boyfriend, and he can do no wrong.

But who cares about the plot? Most of this book is Cassian's huge veiny schlong and balls hitting Nesta's bare skin. This is what we're here for. Good for them, I guess? I didn't need to know all that, but hey! There's 800 pages! So they had to fill those (just like Cassian fills Nesta every day) since the plot is just kind of there.

Nesta is the best character in these stupid books, and everybody else sucks. Maybe except Az or Elena or whatever her name is. I don't care about Cassian. But thank God he's there to eat our girl out and pound his waaaaaay too big (don't you dare forget how big his fairy dick is) schlong into her beautiful, dripping wet pussy.

At the end, three women who have been doing pilates classes for a few months win some Hunger Games against a bunch of men who have been preparing for this their entire lives. Some evil bitch gets killed in a second, and everybody lives happily ever after.

I am so tired.

[sgiandubh]

You really have an interesting blog and I really enjoy the cultural tidbits you weave in. I have to say though that the constant focus on Mordor is a bit much. I get that certain topics require to reference them, but it feels at times that you are just a Mordor monitoring/call-out blog. Maybe that's your goal and I just had different expectations, then I apologize for "criticizing" your content. Maybe it just feels so overwhelming to me, because we used to mostly ignore the other side. Anyway, I hope you don't hold a grudge for this feedback. I will keep an eye out for your cultural remarks.

Dear Culture Anon,

Telling me you read this blog for the 'cultural tidbits' is like me telling you I am watching OL for the Scottish landscapes: a sweet, silly lie.

I shall be, as always, brutally honest with you. My prerogative, since this is my page and everything that happens here does so on my own terms, and nobody else's.

This is your opinion, Anon and I have to respect it, which does not mean I have to abide to it. You are not the first one 'gently suggesting'. Others, including in this shipper community, have been way more virulent, publicly and privately questioning my identity, my gender, my nationality, my integrity, my career. From 'not new', to 'PR plant', to 'fraud', to ' where do you live, this is not enough to be clean' (in comments) to 'I know people ', to 'toxic content', to 'lunatic', to 'nutcase', to 'idiot', to 'impostor', to 'liar', to 'bitch', to 'manipulator', to '[insert name/handle of past/present shipper luminary here]'... I have heard just about it ALL.

Did I feel insulted? Yes. Did I feel disgusted? Yes. Did I feel overwhelmed and sick with it all? Yes. But you know what, Subtle Anon?

I NEVER FELT AFRAID.

Because I never lied to anybody about anything. Because you cannot force me, bind me, pay me, buy me. When I was wrong, I immediately corrected. I tried to remain polite and civilized to anyone in this shipper community, even when people ended up by lying about me in public. I shall still be polite and civilized to these same people: my morality, my profession and my beliefs prompt me to do so. But I am not deaf, nor dumb and certainly not a saint: judge you, I will. In my own privacy. You do exactly the same as far as I am concerned, for sure. So, we're even.

When I started to blog in here, my first feeling was this was an intimidated community. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do not need anyone to tell you that you are read and loved and respected. Maybe you're fine with being constantly called out and insulted and seeing your beliefs ridiculed by bullies without a face. But you know what? I am not even sorry to try and change the state of play, as long as I am speaking just in my own name and taking the whole brunt of asinine insults everyday on my own behalf only.

So I am afraid this blog is not rising up to your expectations, Anon. It is a written by a person (me) with very strong opinions, who simply refuses to turn the other cheek to bullies. And also by a person who sincerely thinks that her life experience can bring a bit of clarity in some difficult to grasp, complicated situations, where it is easier to manipulate for shits, giggles and clicks. Finally, by a person who simply loves to share her favorite music, favorite paintings, favorite places on Earth with people who became quick friends - the 'cultural tidbits' you are looking for, Anon.

So, if this is too much for you, Anon, by all means, do not read me anymore. I am sure you will find other blogs in here, where you will feel more comfortable. This is, after all, a formidably intelligent and compassionate community and this, Anon, is my jam.

I will understand you, Anon and I also think I will survive this loss.

Let's say farewell with one of my favorite Baroque motets, Anon. Nulla in mundo pax sincera means that we should not expect any honest peace in this troubled world, of which this fandom is but a pale reflection. As much as I discount Vivaldi, thanks to his abuse by all the elevator companies of this world, this is one of his finest:

[hawkogurl]

I’ve been thinking about a sm3 rewrite so I’m gonna dump some vague thoughts here.

Seeing as it was likely intended to be more of a Harry movie before Venom was forced in, there’s going to be more of a focus on my boy than any other character. As it stands, I don’t want to entirely write out any character that already exists (not throwing the baby out with the bathwater) but just make something that works as a narrative with what I have been given. This likely means that this will exist in two halves in some way, one more about Venom and one more about Sandman.

As my current thoughts stand, Eddie isn’t getting Venom. It just makes the movie clogged and not as streamlined as it could be. Contrary to the opinions of pretty much everyone who’s tried to propose how to make venom work without considering the narrative ramifications on a character who was never not going to be redeemed, Harry is getting Venom either. Peter is, however, in a universe where this exists I would want every trailer ever to bait people into thinking that Harry or someone else would be Venom. Trust me on this.

I’m taking a lot of inspiration from someone I saw commenting on something that I simply cannot find, but the idea is you keep Venom on Peter and use Venom to accentuate and provoke Peter’s pre existing negative traits, which there are many of, particularly ones that go unacknowledged normally or relate more closely to Harry. You use this to make Harry’s redemption parallel Peter’s corruption, putting Harry in this position where he’s able to make moves to improve himself because the gap between “revenge” and “becoming a good and noble person” is narrower. It’s easier to bridge that gap in a way that feels more natural if we put Peter in a narrative position where those lines are blurred.

To do this, we, as prior states, put Venom on Peter for the vast majority of the movie. Peter’s flaws being exaggerated by Venom, in particular his hero complex and his conviction he knows what’s best for other people can be used to make him take actions he believes are right but will begin to make the classic raimi trilogy Character Of New York begin to fear him. If we begin this with the canon Peter ego and the love New York has for Spider-Man that actual sm3 uses, we have some fun potential down the line.

I’m currently unsure what will begin pushing him in this direction, but to feel satisfying and streamline, it should include MJ and Harry. This is a bit vague rn.

New York will need to gradually grow to fear and dislike the black suit Spidey in a similar capacity to after Eddie’s fake photos but in this context it would be more legitimate and things Peter is actually doing. Eddie won’t necessarily relate to this, the parallel just communicates this better.

At this point I want some fight to occur in which Harry goes and hunts down Peter and ends up fighting him in some context where their conflict is viewed by New York locals who Peter had been previously doing ethically dubious vigilanteism towards. Harry’s attack is utterly misread as “oh, finally someone is standing up for us!” Normally I would find this too cheesy, but I then realized this is the sort of cheese that would just exist in in a Raimi Spider-Man movie. Like… yeah that would happen. Harry’s craving for external validation then gets to come into conflict with his craving for validation from his (hallucinations of) his father. As you can imagine, it’s easier to get validation from the city.

At this point he’d still be a little bit of a bitch about it tho. At some point I want a confrontation between an increasingly venom looking Peter and Harry, where Harry is effectively trying to secure both of the things that he wants (revenge and admiration) by taking Peter down. They spend the entire fight rubbing every insecurity they know the other has and verbally prodding at each others weak points because the vibe is that right now they’re both generally pretty vindictive and cruel with one another. Main things I want accomplished is for Peter to call Harry’s motivations in being a hero superficial because he does the hard part not because it’s right but because he wants the praise while Peter did the hard part because it was right and the praise was unimportant. At some point in this fight, Harry should lose half his face. Burns also work if I can make them make sense, but something more brutal like his face being ground into any sort of moving object or really anything that will do permanent damage will work. I want the symbolic potential of Harry losing something superficially valuable here.

Everything else I got is too vague to be shared. This is an absolute dump and I apologize to anyone who endured reading through it.

[vendettasfanfictioning]

I need more fics framing The Rupture as something necessary for destiel—it hurt like a fucking bitch, sure, and it was a low blow for Dean to hit Cas exactly where he knows Cas hurt most (in being the problem or a burden), but also. Looking at it from Dean's perspective, it really did feel like a move that old, early-seasons Cas would do; withheld information, acted on his own, took risks that could cost others.

And when it all piled up? From Jack's soulless behaviors directly killing Mary, to the deal with Belphegor in hell costing them Rowena. Again, hard agree that it was one of the most painful lines dropped in the show (especially so if you remember that this is post-Empty deal), but context guys, context.

Plus, I believe this separation wasn't only long-time coming but also a pretty important addition because what is destiel if not a pair of stubborn idiots who can't communicate. That's not to say an argument is necessary to talk (it can be, in certain situations, sure) but they've been on different pages since Cas came back in S13.

The center of their disagreement seemed to mostly lie in their belief in Jack. I can't remember a time they really sat down and smoothed things out so much as they avoided talking about what happened during the Widower arc altogether, and that's when the wound really began to fester. (It didn't help that they had to deal with so many problems all at once; the Brits, Asmodeus, Apocalypse World, Lucifer, then AU Michael...)

Here is what we know that Cas believed (from the canon narrative): Jack formed a bond with Cas, even before he was born he somehow showed Cas a possible future; paradise. It's the same power, perhaps a protection mechanism with nephilim seeing as God labeled them as Abominations, that turned Kelly as well. What we know Cas saw (from the deleted scene/script): Cas' paradise consisted of everyone he loved, his family, being safe. This included Sam, Kelly, and Dean on a beach, with more focus on Dean as he tells Cas, "thank you."

From what we could see that Cas did not, Dean had enough resentment against Jack that wasn't going to magically go away overnight. Jack hadn't formed the same bond with Dean that he did with Cas.

What happened before Jack was born: Heaven and Hell both sought out Jack for their respective goals, an innocent woman was going to die from the sheer magnitude of giving birth to a Nephilim, and Cas left by what Dean assumed was delusions and manipulations. What happened when Jack was born: Mary fell into a portal to a different universe—a rift that only opened due to the anomaly and power of Jack's existence—Kelly died, and Cas got stabbed right in front of him.

And this isn't to discredit Dean's love for Jack, when he did allow himself to love him or see him as family, but you can love someone and still resent them or feel bad about them. Moreso during extreme circumstances, however unfair or illogical it may be. Again, did they ever really talk? Maybe my memory is failing me but I'm pretty certain they didn't, or at least never in great detail, or came to an agreement about it.

Dean and Cas... just had so much dirty laundry and Rupture made sure they aired it all out. But I think we, as a society, would benefit greatly from not framing Dean as the big bad villain here or Cas as some poor innocent bean. Supernatural's theme was never about brotherhood or family, it's about how shit could have been so much easier if they just communicated.