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Mutuals stop putting moringmark on my dash challenge

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sorry but if Dean is tying Sam up in the basement Sam is buying the duct tape and rope and complaining that the knots are a little loose

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gender affirming shota surgery

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Okay I love wincestiel with Cas as the cuck, but hear me out— cuck Dean

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself, at first. You know how possessive he is. That need inside him, the animalistic desire to claim Sam as his own— it would be so palpable he could taste it, like blood on his tongue, between his teeth. He’d be staring so hard, Sam would feel holes burning into his bare skin, because he wants Sam to feel him, fuck, he needs Sam go feel him, but this is the only way. Because that space, the one made just for Dean, that he fits perfectly into like a puzzle piece, is already being stretched and stolen away by a goddamn angel. Making that eye contact with him, expression stoic as ever, for once in his life Cas would be able to read Dean like a book. It wouldn’t be hard, as they settle into a rhythm— he’s on the edge of his seat, palming himself through his jeans, dirtied and soiled with how he’s sweating bullets and leaking precum like a faucet. The real kicker is his eyes, though, they’re lighting up as if electrically charged. Staring and staring at the point where Sam and Castiel are connected, he looks almost reverent. He’s not self aware enough to understand why it’s so beautiful, why it’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes, but Cas gets it. Dean is simply grateful, grateful that his perfect baby brother is finally getting what he deserves. Not a scumbag cradle-robbing big-brother creep like Dean (he’s always been so full of self-loathing), but an actual, real, honest to god angel of the lord, finally appreciating Sam and worshiping him the way he deserves.

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Begging some artists in fandom to understand that while it's totally fine for them to refuse to draw what they are uncomfortable with, they are also not entitled to tell other fan artist what they can or cannot draw.

You don't want to draw a ship you find gross or nsfw of a certain character? Cool!

You don't want people to send that stuff to you either? Great!

You don't want anyone else drawing or sharing that? Yeahhh, no.

In the same way that you don't owe anyone anything, you are not entitled to demand others to stop. Block and filter at your discretion like everyone else does.

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I found a story about some OC Siblings over on AO3. It’s not Pinecest, but it scratches the itch

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Every time I read a comic about being reincarnated into another world or reborn with the memories of the future or etc. I wish the MC would stay as a cute shota for longer! Especially if the story introduces other, equally cute, young characters!!

What I'd give for a story where the MC is a creep or something that reincarnates to be a precocious shota that causes mayhem among their fellow kodos and adults alike AAA - 🦂

confession #174

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[2] Hot Male Couples Magazine (2001)

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This could trigger sa victims 🤓" they say to an sa victim.

Dont use people's trauma as a way to hate on proshippers. It comes off like how conservative men pretend to care about women only when talking about trans people

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Shermie has the biggest dick out of the three my source is it would be hot

OUGHHH YOU’RE RIGHT … who would have th smallest one doe 👀

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Shaping himself to John’s liking is an art Dean perfected years ago.

He’s sitting on the bed, waiting, watching as Dad takes the seat in front of him. Dad’s still wearing his Fed suit. He’s either dressed up or drunk when they do this. Sometimes both.

Today, though, it’s only the suit.

“Look at you,” Dad murmurs, his gaze slowly leaving Dean’s face, trailing down his body.

Dean’s not wearing much. Socks. One of Dad’s too-big flannels, all the way unbuttoned, allowing Dad’s eyes to roam over his pale chest. A pair of plain cotton panties from the women’s underwear section at Walmart, white except for the dark spot already forming at the front.

Dad reaches for his ankle, lifts his foot, holds it in both hands. His hands are warm, strong. Dean’s heart speeds up in his chest, dick leaking some more. Dad eyes the wet spot, then looks back up at Dean.

“What do you want, Dean,” he murmurs as he rubs over the arch of Dean’s foot. “Why’d you dress up like this?”

Dean’s never drunk when they do this. Doesn’t need to be. He’s always dressed up a little, though. But not the way Dad is. Not full-on. Just enough to look a little less like himself, just enough that Dad won’t look away in guilt.

“Want you to look at me,” Dean says, sounding a little hoarse. It’s always hard to find his voice. Being dressed like this doesn’t make anything easier. Not for him.

Dad never asks for a specific outfit. Doesn’t have to. Dean knows just what he likes. He doesn’t give a crap about satin and lace. He’d laugh Dean in the face if he ever dressed up in the pair of silky, soft pink panties Dean keeps hidden in a sewn-in pocket in his duffle. Anything too feminine is a no-go. He’d tell Dean to get that crap off his face if Dean would ever show him what a little mascara and some cherry-colored lip balm can do. That too is safely hidden in the secret pocket of his duffle.

“Am lookin’, kid,” Dad says, fingers trailing up Dean’s ankle, eyes on the white cotton of his socks. He rests Dean’s shin in his hand, eyes traveling up his thighs, to the shape of his hard dick straining his panties.

Dad doesn’t like anything too fancy. Just something that softens Dean’s edges a bit, something that makes him seem a little younger, a little more pliant. A loose tank top. Knee-high socks. One of Dad’s old Marine shirts, long and wide enough to look like a nightgown on him. Sam’s old soccer shorts, short enough to expose most of his thighs.

But no skirts or dresses. No tight spaghetti tops, no real lingerie. You’re my boy. Act like one. So Dean walks a fine line between femininity and masculinity, between softness and strength. Acts like Dad whenever they’re on a hunt or when it’s just the three of them crammed up in another motel room. Tones it down when he’s with Sam, or when he’s alone with Dad like this, Sam dropped off at Bobby’s.

“Want you to touch me,” Dean says, trying to keep his voice even. Dad doesn’t want to see insecurity, doesn’t want to see fragility. Hums in approval whenever Dean goes down to his knees or spreads his legs for him like Dad told him to, but he’d snort in disdain if he knew Dean fingers himself at night, fantasizing about Dad fucking him missionary style, calling him his wife; mock him if he knew Dean fantasizes about cuddling and being little spoon afterwards. Dad loathes femininity because he loathes weakness. Dean figured that out a long time ago.

Dad doesn’t want him to play housewife. Doesn’t want Dean to open himself up to him, to expose himself completely.

He just wants Dean to obey. And Dean knows how to walk the line.

Dad’s good little soldier, and nothing else.

Cross-posted to AO3 Image source

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I truly wonder how antis even watch this show, yet alone claim that fans are pulling sebaciel out of thin air when scenes like this exist. Yana Toboso, I know what you are, and I love it.

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Do you ship it?

Problematic Reasons: Ciel is 13. Sebastian is a grown ass demon. They are indistinctly linked to each other, Sebastian will eat Ciel's soul, and they are often portrayed in a suggestive manner

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secret santa gifts for @freaky-yaoi ! :3c