#but now it honestly makes me feel even worse

[loudclan-clangen]

So, here is the pitch:

AU where Siltsplash finds out they are pregnant around the same moon that Eklutna gives birth to the boys. (Rather than an AU where Owl doesn’t cheat because then we wouldn’t have Song, Dance, or Dash and that won’t do)

It makes the betrayal even worse because it’s even more pointless since they were going to give Owl an heir.

Anyway, meet Spindlekit

She will eventually go blind I imagine, but if Owlstar suggest she retire she tells him that he should retire for being old lmao.

Warrior name is open to suggestion

I love her and I’m so mad that she doesn’t exist now.

The fact that Song doesn’t have a little sister is a CRIME. This is what he was born to do.

Not only am I okay with it, I would love to see it!

You are so right, here's a flashback that was cut for time from Moon 28:

Erminepaw has had a crush on Songpaw since they were in the nursery together, he just never called attention to it. He honestly probably doesn't even register that it is a crush, he's doing that thing that kids do where they're like this is my best friend, of course I want to marry him that's how everyone feels about their best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary here! Just my best friend that I must be holding hands with at all times for best friend reasons!

Yes! This is Fox----, he has been causing problems since the literal day he was born. You've met both of his parents, but I would be a little bit surprised if you guessed them correctly. Parental drama is kinda part of his whole deal. He's one of the first 3rd generation cats born in Loudclan.

I have SO much advice, about the images, the recommended size is 1280 x 1920 pixels, that's always a little too short for my panels, so I try to aim for 1280 x 2000 - 3000. It still deteriorates them a little bit, but people can always click on them for better quality. Bigger text and variation in values also help for readability regardless of size. (value meaning how light or dark a color is. if you want something to stand out it's more important to change the value than it is to change the hue generally speaking.) As for grabbing attention, I would recommend making sure that the image you're trying to show is visible above the cut off for longer posts, posts with only text visible are a lot less likely to get interaction. That being said, the most important thing for the longevity of your blog is making sure that it's something you are doing for yourself. There's nothing wrong with liking when your posts get attention, but it's not likely to happen for a long while (I think moon 5 was the first time I got double digit likes which was three months after I started.) I appreciate all of the love that Loudclan gets now, but if I had started with that as the goal I never would have been able to reach the point of it happening. (I actually started posting Loudclan with the intention of proving to myself once and for all that posting art was not a viable endeavor for me, so... I'll consider that a successful failure!)

You CANNOT DO THIS to me anon- "the canadian city"- YOU MEAN JUNEAU? YOU MEAN THE CAPITAL OF ALASKA JUNEAU?!?! JUNEAU?!?! CANADIAN?!?! When I catch you anon- anon when I catch you-

Come here, anon. I just want to talk. I just want to have a word with you.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses

[siriusremusblack]

GUYS- ok I honestly don’t even know lol

I feel like. If people hadn’t stolen Snape’s characteristics and given them to other characters like Sirius, Barty, Regulus, and even James- practically worshipping them for those stolen traits- but then completely dehumanizing and Villainizing Snape, removing those traits or making them seem like they’re just so undeniably wrong. That the marauders fandom could’ve been something so much better.

Snape does not deserve all the hate he gets within that fandom. However, I feel like. If you take away the characterization that belongs to Snape that was given to the others and come up with new characterizations for the Marauders- something original, not based off Snape. We could have a cool adventure story they seem to be wanting??

And I mean. If it’s an adventure story anyways. Why make them good people? That’s lame, overused, boring (at least to me). Keep the marauders as the bad guys. Keep their horrible canon personalities. Explore their bad traits! Don’t make them heroes, don’t make them good people. They’re not.

Maybe they get character development and improve during your story through shared experiences. That’s great! That would be amazing! But don’t right off the bat completely change them- making them basically into ocs.

What I think a lot of people may enjoy is some bad dudes hanging out. Going on adventures, breaking rules, stabbing people in the back, just being total jerks.

They sound horrible when I put it like that? GOOD. How fun would it be too see that? I mean. If adventurers are following the rules, the laws- are they really adventurers? They’re staying within reason. They’re not pushing the limits. They’re just. Normal, boring people that like to travel.

A lot of people like pirates. Pirates break the laws, they go on adventures, they can be real jerks, they can be horrible people- but they’re still well liked.

So, I feel like. If people had stuck to the original characterizations of the characters- explored it a little, made them worse by a lot or a little- focused on them breaking the rules and going on adventures similarly to how pirates do- (very important part here: WITHOUT VILLAINIZING SNAPE) we could’ve gotten a lot better fandom there. Now, I’m not saying everyone apart of that fandom is bad, I’ve met a couple people that were chill that were in that fandom. But, think of how much more interesting the stories could be if we focus on the bad traits of the Marauders.

You can still put random characters with them like Barry and Regulus- but tell us why and how through the stories, because realistically speaking, James would absolutely despise people like Regulus and Barty. Not because of their ideals- but because they’re slytherin.

Bad guys can be extremely interesting too! You don’t need to change the Marauders to make interesting enjoyable stories- it’s ok to like characters with horrible or questionable morals (as long as you don’t agree with them, if you agree with them… ehh.. maybe seek help-? I don’t know-!!)

BUT COME ON. Marauders being total jerks, bad people- but going on adventures. That’s interesting- and Snape? He can be his curious self. Suspicious of their actions. Maybe as he gets older he’d be apart of the law enforcement- who’s looking for the Marauders for their crimes, to make sure justice is served.

Y’all I don’t know- but I find this more interesting than whatever the current marauders stories are.

[yonpote]

more tit spoilers yap

i feel like if each tour was a movie in a movie series, then tatinof and ii are parts 1 and 2, wad is a spinoff, and tit is part 3. i think tit is a direct sequel to ii because of the meta nature of the show being amped up as well as the themes of "giving the ppl what they want" vs "taking back what was taken from us" obv being a parallel. and obv wad and tatinof are also Extremely Meta, but the specific ways in which ii and tit are meta in terms of being ABOUT the audience-creator relationship is more overarching, whereas tatinof's meta nature is in it being an explosion of self-referential bits that they know the audience already loves. and wad... honestly idk if i would even call wad meta? it's mostly just self-indulgent, WHICH IS A GOOD THING because it is directly about dan's particular struggles with coping through a world that seems to be getting worse and worse and figuring that you HAVE to keep going and see thru to the other side. which i guess is meta in that its about himself but thats like calling an autobiography meta lmao.

i could be misremembering bc it was such a whirlwind experience for me, but i dont think they ever clarify if they DO believe themselves to be bad influences or not. now i feel like this should be obvious, but just in case it isn't: dan and phil did not make you gay. they maybe influenced you to come out, or influenced your gay fashion choices, or maybe seeing them be openly queer or reading fics about them and seeing shippy art of them stirred something within you to realize that you've been gay the whole time (which is also a joke that they do a couple times where theyre like "no we were STRAIGHT and we BECAME GAY in 2019!")

id love to hear about what was confessed to sister daniel and father philip at other shows i'll be honest i cant remember the confessed sins because i was too busy staring at those thighs im sorry i am just a man i am no better than a man

i have so many thoughts on phil talking by himself. i have so many thoughts about how much love is in that mans heart, both for dan and for us, even if he doesnt wear it on his sleeve all the time.

the rave part of the song was good lmao. it was catchy and fun and the like EVERYBODY STAND UP part was goofy but i had a good time with it. im an internet is here supremacist i think in terms of like, actually liking the song LMAO, if i were to rank all the tour songs it would go:

the internet is here

everything's fine

terrible influence

phil diss track / interactive introverts (IM A HATER SORRY)

[fallen-faerie]

ppl keep asking me why i havent been posting a lot and its because ive been in extreme withdrawal from serious opiates for a MONTH now. i take 3 8mg strips of suboxone daily. and when i dont take 1 of them i get sick within a few hours. its now been a fucking month.

i lost my insurance without my knowledge and upon finding out, i had to pay for my medicine out of pocket until it was fixed. and because of the extreme withdrawal i missed a few appointments telling them i was in so much physical pain i couldn't drive. and so i was booted from that office and now i am awaiting getting into a clinic specifically for suboxone that is within walking distance.

i honestly don't know how ive managed to make it this long without my medication. and ive been on suboxone for years so i know its going to get worse. it HAS been getting worse each day. i have to get back on it in order to taper off of the drug completely.

anyone else i know probably would have relapsed on heroin by now. (that was the drug i got clean from). and i have been tempted to just do it to end the suffering im in.

words cannot even describe the amount of pain and torture i am feeling. i only have another week left until i get into this clinic. they said they will call if an opening is available but there is such a long wait list because i live in a city that has a realllyyy bad opiate problem.

i think ive only made it this long because of my kids and the fact that i refuse to throw away 5 years of sobriety because my insurance company failed to notify me that i needed to re-apply for insurance.

the pain is fucking excruciating and everything in me is telling me i cant go much longer without using something to make it stop. its messing with my head. and its not like before when i was homeless and addicted to heroin. i always have money on me. i live in a bad neighborhood where dealers are all around me. im doing my best to try to distract myself with video games. i am literally so sick i can barely even move. thank god i have ppl here to help me but even they can see that im starting to lose it mentally 😭😭😭😭😭

and before anyone tells me i should just rough it and not get back on suboxone:

suboxone withdrawal can last for months. ive already been off of it for a month and its only gotten worse not better. and i have been on suboxone since i was 19. im 27 now. so i would probably be looking at many months of torturous withdrawal. the only way i can actually get clean from suboxone is by tapering off of it little by little, which i was waiting to do because i have a toddler to take care of and tapering off of it is hell too.

[thequasarwinds]

YES I SAW THIS AND HAD TO SPEW MY THOUGHTS- I also feel this applies to Eury as well! I absolutely DESPISE how this fandom either has to blame him or Odysseus. When it’s not that black and white

To address what you said here- I think it’s a matter of different definitions! As I use sweetheart to typically describe someone who’s well- very sweet! Not soft. Odysseus is a character that knows how to do what it takes to survive (his entire arc was kind of learning that). He’s not overly soft or mushy. A Sweetheart to me is someone who would give their ENTIRE world to their loved ones. Someone who doesn’t stop giving. Someone who’s just very loving and/or caring. At least to put it as simply as I can (Sarah Heathcliff and Thatcher Davis from TMC are also both characters I’d describe as “sweethearts” but they certainly aren’t soft characters especially Sarah)

I don’t want to get into a deep dive on Odysseus- dissecting the lyrics and his character (though I definitely can- I just don’t have the time to right now).

but Odysseus is an inherently selfless and sacrificial character. As well as someone who always tried to do what was best for everyone. He was just continually cornered again and again. Forced to make a choice between bad and worse. that’s why you see me describe Odysseus (AND THIS APPLIES TO EURY AS WELL) as barely having any actual control/agency/choice throughout his odyssey

of course a cornered cat is going to swat. You cornered it! And of course that cat’s going to start biting if you go ahead and declaw it as well.

honestly Odysseus isn’t even a character I’d say I have the most experience in with analysis (that’s be my twin @seasonalmoss they’re the main Odysseus person when it comes to analyzing him and properly portraying him in our AUs) but he is a character I am VERY passionate about people getting right. (In EPIC specifically- always remember Epic is different from the odyssey)

Hit reblog if you see that Odysseus has acted as a monster, been seen as a monster, thinks of himself as a monster, but has never actually truly been a monster.

[cowboy-like-moony]

I just want to know if taylor would still be fine with dating that man if he had called ice spice a b*tch because we all know how she feels about men calling her that, but I honestly think the way he talked about ice spice was just as bad (and a lot of the things he said in general are wayyy worse) so would she care if her boyfriend called some other woman a b*tch? I'm just curious

[forbiddentaako]

more monochrome practice I suppose

[vaelynx]

This discussion is dearly missing some Uncle Karl, and I say it as someone who isn't even knee deep in theory.

The first thing is alienation. Notice how the discussion above isn't filled with say, car repairmen wishing they could repair hay carts instead, or sailors wishing they lived in the era of rotten rations and scurvy. (Although I fully admit *I* wish to go back to pre-SMD electronics :P)

If you are stuck doing the job of a servant, without even the sliver of prestige and relative prosperity serving the kind of household who could afford servants provided, of course you're not going to be seeing much bad in an era where you'd likely be a subsistence farmer, because work of that nature is inherently more satisfying to a human mind. Notice how people garden in their spare time, but nobody goes to serve rude people as a way of entertainment (except for BDSM enthusiasts)

This brings in a related point that progress as some single sloped line cutting through history is utter bullshit, and for instance, the Industrial Revolution has made most everyone's lives worse for a long while before it made anyone better off. Living in, say, a victorian poorhouse, you could absolutely honestly say that your ancestors say, three hundred years ago were better off than you.

To this also adds a missing element up above and that is freedom as known necessity. Now, I might be misinterpreting this one, so any marxists are free to correct me, but I've always understood it as this: if you run out of your house because it's on fire, that's a free decision, inasmuch as dictated by circumstance - granted, you're not going to be happy at the fire but you don't feel oppressed. Now, if someone aims a gun at you and tells you to get out, I don't think anyone would consider you "free" in this example - you're subject to the will of another. Now, however, if the person aiming their gun at you knew that there's a fire starting *and* that the propane bottles in the basement will blow if we don't get out *now* and so aimed the gun at you... it was as much of a necessity as in case #1 but what changes things is that you didn't know about it. Hence. Known necessity. How does this apply to our topic? The easiest way is that direct comparison between lifestyles with the whole "You live better than kings" is a fiasco for this reason alone. Yeah, a king didn't have a TV set or a flush toilet, but the absence of one wasn't something that entered his mind. (just like I don't spend my days bemoaning the lack of a gizmotator)

Furthermore, this plays an even bigger role for the lower classes. While the situation sucks either way, I'd say it's somewhat more bearable to be hungry because the harvest was shit, than to be hungry because some asshole in corporate decided not to up your wages despite two digit inflation. Now, as per example #3 - it's hypothetically possible that the asshole in corporate is an asshole because he couldn't balance the books otherwise, but you don't know that, and so still feel squeezed. And of course, in things like service industry, most of your misery does indeed come from shitty other people ,either directly or from ways they've actively chosen to make your life more shit (say, cashiers unable to sit in the US)

So yeah, these aspects are quite important, and then there's further issues to go with the previously mentioned positional goods.

Now, not everyone can, indeed, be a general, but the biggest question here isn't so much how many winners does a society have, as much as how many losers. Because there's societies that allow you to be relatively insolvent with dignity intact, and ones who don't, and the second kind will foment discontent and upset. People being rude to service industry workers is a symptom of this - their positional good is that there's someone underneath them yet that they can vent their bile on. But, this goes for general prestige, status etc.

On a complete different end is how some positional goods have gotten grossly devalued, and/or the "market" of them became deformed.

The easiest example here is say, music skill. Easily reproduced music and the breadth of contact networks has, in a lot of ways, killed the positional good of being an "okay" musician. On one side, those with great talent can make it really big, bigger than in a lot of time, on the other, the guy playing a piano at a cafe, or playing a harmonica at the pub has gotten a very shit end of the whole deal, never mind the many many bands whose main claim to fame was that they were local. The same goes for things like writing and relative easy of translation - it's a lot harder to succeed as a "good" (but not great) writer if the works with which you compete are not just from your country, but the whole world (although the niches of the internet have perhaps mitigated this one a little). And so on and so forth, down to how being the most eligible bachelor/bachelorette in your immediate neighbourhood isn't much of an asset in the era of Tinder.

In sum total, while simplistic calls for returning to the past, either from the "left" or the right are stupid, any claim that we're living better than ever is a fig leaf over the fact we aren't even living better than twenty years ago, for most "we"'s probably reading this message, and uncomfortable truths can be discovered by looking into the past.

I think @Earlgraytay has me blocked, though I don't specifically remember having any arguments with them, but I wanted to respond to a post of theirs which asserts that I live better than *anybody* who lived in a pre-industrial society, and I will phrase my skepticism like so:

"If Plato or Alexander the Great or Gengis Khan or William the Conqueror or Leonardo Da Vinci had the opportunity to work at a minimum wage job that they didn't really enjoy until they were too tired to do anything except go back to their apartment to drink and jerk off until they fell into a shallow, stressful sleep before waking up to do it again tomorrow they would definitely do it because that's obviously way better than how they actually lived."

I'm going to go ahead and say that I don't think this is actually obvious.

I'll even say that the more names I add to that list the more facially absurd it sounds.

I don't want to go back to the past and the people who idolize the past are often deeply confused individuals.

But the result of this is a counter-movement which, rather than attempting to figure out what *aspect* of a past society might have appeal, instead simply argues that it doesn't matter because whatever it is could not possibly be more important than Spotify.

And the problem becomes massively bigger if you actually allow people to compare themselves to "Kings" rather than the working class clods of a previous time.

Yes, I live a lot better than a medieval serf. I am really, *really* not convinced that I am living a wholly better life than Gengis Khan or Alexander the Great (Let alone Socrates, Confucious or Leonardo Da Vinci) just because I have a flush toilet.

[envolvenuances]

and I think child modelling should be illegal I'm not even joking

[bunnihearted]

regardless of the "learn how to be alone" dravel, being lonely actually is really bad for your mental health and can be very painful :p

[nobodybetterlookatme]

I don't care if the texts are about what you're eating for dinner, I'll take all the crumbs I can get !!

LMAO yeah okay here you go. And upon reading them this morning it wasn't that funny so idk why I was laughing almost hysterically last night about it ahskalslal

[wadesprincessboy]

Again with the "hi im also a Jew in Aotearoa" reblog, ive also noticed a huge rise in antisemitism. Since oct 7 i have felt increasingly unsafe existing as a Jewish person. I also happen to live in an area that is very largely leftist (or at least my circles in the area are) and i honestly feel most unsafe because of the leftists. Ive seen posters that are very clearly antisemitic everywhere, and the ones i saw calling for the freeing of hostages were crossed out and torn down. Ive shared this before but a pride event put in their kaupapa that theyre anti-zionist and my mum wore a hebrew shirt to the event (she went despite the anti-zionist stuff because its pride and she wanted to go) that said pride in rainbow letters. She was going to wear it regardless of the events kaupapa, and it was clearly a pride shirt, but she got disgusted looks from a lot of people.

Ive been using my dads last name out of concern for my safety due to having a very Jewish last name from my mum. I hate my dads name and it makes me feel sick to use it, but its for my safety. I always use my chosen name because its English, and when people ask about my birth name, which is Hebrew, and I tell them its Hebrew they again give disgusted looks. Prior to Oct 7 people would be interested in the story of my mum growing up in Jerusalem and how important being Jewish is to us, but now I just say the name was chosen because of the singer. I dont want to say the truth because im scared ill get hurt.

My mother overshares a lot and cant resist telling people about how she grew up in Israel and how important to her it is to go back some day, and every time she says it I prepare for the worst. The worst that's happened is again, the look, but im always scared.

All the leftists i know love hamas, some are celebrating the Amsterdam pogrom, they all dropped me for saying Jewish people have a right to exist in Israel. Not even saying Im a zionist, just saying Jews are indigenous and have rights. They dropped me. They put out "bewares" on socials.

I go to a yearly drama camp and so many people from there that i considered friends did things like that and i almost didnt apply to go back next year despite how much i love it. When i go back i will be shutting my mouth and keeping my head down because i do not want to ruin the experience.

It is unsafe to be Jewish here. Good friends have been cruel. Strangers are terrifying. I wont ever tell people Im Jewish if they dont already know because im so worried they will hate me.

I wanted to go to university, but the university i want to go to doesnt seem all that safe for me as a Jew anymore.

Ive lost countless friends since Oct 7.

To answer the askers question of "is anyone standing up for your community", no. Theyre doing the opposite. Heck even our own community turns on us (see: the book jewish not zionist, written by a member of my local Jewish community, who says Jews arent oppressed in Aotearoa). I think I know one or two people who arent Jewish who are standing up for us and standing with us at this time.

Also, in my town theres a big event in the city for Hannukah each year. I dont know if it happened last year, because i wasnt in town, but im worried about it this year. Its an event that i love so much. One of the few chances to meet other Jewish people in the area that dont go to the same synagogue. There is always a large police presence around, and i fear this year it will be worse. Hell im willing to bet there will be protests about it! Im worried it wont even happen. I hope it does and i pray we will all be safe, because its such a great event that i look forward to all year.

I would invite my best friend to come along as its a tradition for my family that we bring friends to share our culture with them, but my best friend is so loudly anti-zionist that if she agreed to come (i doubt she would) she would definitely cause issues. I imagine if theres protests shell be on that side.

It fucking sucks to be Jewish right now. Honestly it always has, ive never felt safe as a Jewish person in Aotearoa, but its so much worse now. We are lucky compared to other places, but its still not good.

Sorry for the long rant of a reblog btw, OP. Kinda just wanted to vent my experience since I dont think theres many other Jewish people from Aotearoa on this hellsite.

how bad is it to be jewish in NZ right now? is anyone standing up for your community? where i am antisemitism has gotten pretty bad and it feels like almost no one other than jews or ppl who are part jewish or married to jews is calling it out.

Per data from the community security group, post oct 7th to March, antisemitism increased 600%.

And this is only reported incidents.

There are not really anyone besides jews standing up for us.

The holocaust centre is getting involved with antisemitism at a university just for the sheer fucking amount of it. Leftist circles are practically rife with it.

I'd consider my ex friends to be your average leftist, like not far left but almost there. And they're super antisemitic. Celebrating the Amsterdam pogrom, calling hamas a resistance group, supporting the houthi etc.

The only support I've seen outside of jewish circles is a coworker tearing down antisemitic pro Palestine posters near our office. Like these weren't regular posters, they were antisemitic instead of being just pro Palestine

[moruboru]

having the time of my life rn

[ifuckingloveherpees]

"idontsupportherpes"

would that make you happy Tumblr.....would it? must I spit on my own identity to satisfy you? It's not me who doesn't support herpes....it's them. I am ifuckingloveherpes. I am ifuckingloveherpes.

[aeantizlkamenwati]

So I'm adding to this after about twenty more hours playing it.

Yes it's a long ramble again. The last line sums it up for you.

Again I don't think it's a bad game; it's fun (once I removed the combat essentially. It does get repetitive very quickly though). Sometimes it does make me genuinely laugh. The music sometimes feels...Mass Effect. Like literally there's a few tracks that are too futuristic and I swear to every god I hear the main menu piano bits from one of the Mass Effects in a few. It's also...bland? There's no real identity to it. Like I can think of several tracks from previous games in a heartbeat, or just other games in general (DOS2 & Hades will forever be my favorites), but Veilguard...nope. It doesn't even get the benefit of my absorbing it unconsciously like Skyrim's. It's just...file not found.

But it's still so sanitized. It feels like Rook is supposed to be the protag of a Pokémon game? The type where it's all sunshine and rainbows and everyone gets along and power of friendship, you know?

Part of the problem, I think, is everyone in the game knows Rook's backstory, we don't. Rook knows their backstory; we don't. I saw someone mention there should've been like a handful of protagonist slides in the beginning, and I agree. It would've helped me to understand BioWare's MC, maybe care a little bit about them. But instead we find out about Rook's backstory via bits and pieces. Like Mercar apparently was found as a baby after a skirmish? And here I was thinking maybe they were orphaned or cast out onto the streets. Silly me. No. Mercar has never known anything but privilege I guess? Idk what the other Rooks familial status is (aside from the necro one) or if it ever gets brought up. But like knowing it up front would help me connect with this...person who has to be always funny (honestly the witty Rook is the only dialogues that make sense tonally for me?)

I get it. They want to be as inclusive as possible, but it comes at a very high cost. I don't really do evil routes myself, I'm more the redemption arc or anti-hero or just really reluctant hero type, so I get everyone is like "why do you want to be evil?" I don't. I just wish Rook had more personality, or our tonal choices matched what came out of their mouth? If I choose stoic/stern, I expect to be stern/stoic and not...impatient? I guess? Witty is the only one that always matches everything, everything else is just kinda blah, which begs the question why make it a choice? It takes away part of the roleplay.

And it's made worse, for me, by the fact that it is so sunshine and rainbows all the damn time? Again I understand they want everyone to feel seen, and some people don't like things like fantasy racism or classism or religious problems...

But...the major conflicts in DA involved those things? And now they are just swept aside and we are one musical short of a Disney movie.

So everything just lacks punch. Again we are told something is bad, but never allowed to witness why. It's like Bioware is an overly protective parent shielding our innocent eyes, going "oh no it's too terrible for you, we don't want you to feel bad."

So I, as someone who lives for angst because that's cathartic to me, just stop connecting to the characters because everyone's going to be nice, and there's no real conflict and the "hardening" makes no sense if you remember these aren't teenagers but fully fledged, battle-seasoned adults who know full-well Rook did send help but apparently the Veilguard Elite Force is useless without Rook...cough. Sorry, got salty about that again. (Don't get me started on Taash).

And all this light, this lack of something to balance it out makes the triumphs blah. Because...

Like I think of Hawke and the Warden on how invested I was in their story. Going through the prologues in Origins made me feel for those characters. I can still remember the gut punch and rage I felt playing a female City Elf, and knowing what was going on and murdering the entire castle, and feeling sick seeing Shianni. Or playing Mahariel and flirting with Tamlen, feeling like the "young love was in bloom" and having it all ripped away, and then him showing at camp? Oof, messed me up. I CRIED playing a Cousland and the sheer emotion in the goodbye scene. I teared up when my first Hawke lost Carver and then her mother and seeing the awkward and lack luster scene with a companion trying to comfort her...it hurt.

But that made the triumphs, the light moments, the humor, the storylines all the more sweeter.

The shadows that infested Thedas gave the characters depth and emotion. It made the journeys the characters went on mean more because I knew how bad it COULD be, and it felt like we could grow together as a team through the hardships and horrors.

Veilguard doesn't have that. There's no conflict between personalities or biases that need to be checked or opinions to change. Rook doesn't witness hardships and doesn't get a "COULD ONE THING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD JUST STAY FIXED?!" moment (so far...closest thing I got was telling Solas (still sickeningly polite for the angry option) to stop pretending he was doing a good thing (seriously the tone and the dialogue did not match the short "Quit the bullshit" tag; be angrier Rook! Tell him off!).

I replayed DA games so many times I can quote an obscene amount of lore, history, and direct lines. I did it because they were comforts to me, an escape from my own shitty life where there was something equally shitty going on and the characters reacted to it (like normal people, not witty one-liners) and even through that darkness I found a home in the characters, their stories, their journeys. We had ups and downs, and yes I'm a people pleaser so I memorized how to win everyone over completely, but that didn't detract from it, from getting to know these characters. It made me feel connected to them. I didn't love Varric because he was charming, I loved him because I could understand his need to slap a smile on and ignore the pain. I loved Fenris despite his hostility towards mages because I could understand it (I hate Anders because he is a toxic waste dump but I guess other people love him). I thought it beautiful that Fenris had to go on a little journey with me, learning to accept one mage at least and trust them.

Inclusivity does not mean pastel and rainbows; it means treating the dark topics with care and respect, giving warnings maybe or a toggle. Which I think is my main problem with the game.

Bioware forgot the darkness they scrubbed away...it's what made the light parts shine so bright.

Veilguard Thoughts

I just need to get my thoughts out of my head and the Void seems like a perfect place since I can’t write a review on console. I’m all for civil discussion, but at the end of the day this is my opinion/feelings after 20 hours. Perhaps it'll change once I finished the game, but I doubt it. Beware minor spoilers.

Warning: Incredibly long. TL;DR at the very end.

I’ll start this off by saying it’s not a bad GAME, just a bad DRAGON AGE. It runs nice (only had one crash, and minimal amount of stuttering on fidelity mode, one time the screen went completely black but the dialogue and music continued which was vaguely terrifying. Some movements are janky in cutscenes, but overall, not bad). It's pretty, I like some of the new designs. The music is nice.

I’m not a fan of this style of combat (never could jive with God of War or Bloodbourne; my preference for real time action is like Hades and DMC) mostly because I can’t cancel an action with dodge/block and the AI focuses solely on Rook so you end up getting swarmed and unable to properly see the flasher plus the timing is weird af. I tried playing on what I assume was supposed to be Casual mode (Keeper) because it said “emphasizes party composition over reflexes” and well…it lied. To the point that I was not having fun because the game is 70% combat, 20% exploring and 10% story. So I turned it to Story mode because I could not be bothered and enjoyed it slightly more. It feels very MMO, team-based, looter imo. The UI, how it handles, the depth of the story and how it goes about it (the Mission Accomplished Journal screens specifically), the emphasis on combat over anything else…

And here we get to my problem: I only enjoy it when I pretend it’s just a generic fantasy game and not Dragon Age. Because it doesn’t FEEL like a Dragon Age. It feels as soft as everyone’s skin texture. I don’t care about the story or the characters and it boils down to the writing.

It feels juvenile.

Like I loved DA because it was willing to confront the worst in humanity. The disgusting parts of war like Loghain selling elves to slavers, or the nunances of blood magic. Presenting choices that are morally grey like sacrificing the Circle or the Templars in DA2 (yes that choice was heavily forced and stupid but still). It didn’t shy away from it. There was levity, but the characters had multiple sides. They could get angry, they could get snappy or sappy. There was GROWTH to them. Zevran’s romance arc if you choose to reject the earring without more commitment was beautiful. DA2’ romances were…a little stilted, but I still enjoyed them. Inquisition also had lovely little arcs, depending on the romance. But even friendships felt natural as you got to know these people.

And Veilguard falls flat. They were okay with pissing off the culture war babies with trans/nonbinary options, but not with showing us the bad things. The game TELLS us “this is bad”, but doesn’t show why. They have their soap box moment of “slavery bad” like it’s not 2024 and anyone worth the air they breathe knows that, how about you still show that since we are IN THE HEART OF THE SLAVE TRADE?! Where’s the option to maybe be an escaped slave? An escaped Saarebas? They refuse to give us blood magic because “it’s messy” Yeah. It is. That’s the point. Maybe let me decide if that's a line I'd like to cross? No? Necromancy is fine? It’s like we traded the dark adult themes for better sex scenes.

The major choice I’ve gotten to means NOTHING outside of metagaming. It’s like they were trying to show they could be edgy or that “now now you can’t save everyone because we say so and we are going to force one of your companions to hate you”. And it boils down to who you want to romance, who is vital as a support character, and which faction do you prefer? Has nothing to do with anything else and there’s no way to fix this forced hardening, so have fun with that I guess? It’s not like I chose the dialogue options or anything, it feels as shoe horned in as DA2’s ending tbh. Like here have a shitty decision for no other reason than we want you to.

Then BioWare seems to have tried to both cater to the newbies and the ones who read/watch/listen to the extra media and fail to find a middle ground. It relies too heavily on codexes and journals and other media (which was my gripe with Inquisition) to do the heavy lore lifting (for example as someone who did not read Tevinter Nights yet nor listened to the third-party podcast, I have no connection to Rook's backstory).

But at the same time, it treats us like we are stupid? Going back to how juvenile the writing feels: it repeats itself a horrific amount. Every time Solas says “the Evanuris” it’s apparently a contractual obligation for him to say “or the elven gods as you would call them” immediately after. The amount of freaking out about them CONSTANTLY is like they are afraid we forgot after an hour. And again I kept thinking: how about you stop telling me they are terrible and why I should be scared and SHOW me?  D’Meta did nothing because I didn’t see it happen like watching Loghain call the retreat after watching darkspawn slaughter the army. Another example in the beginning is after you get the dagger, you speak with Harding and you can discuss magic. Rook notes they know dwarves are called Children of the Stone. Five seconds later Harding goes in the most “I’m speaking to a toddler” tone: “Dwarves call ourselves Children of the Stone. Some of us have what we call Stone sense.” Like…Rook would know that??? If newbies are confused they can go look in the glossary (isn’t that what that’s for?) or give an option to ask a question. It just feels so fucking patronizing.

Then it spoils so much of the story with the Varric interludes, or repeats itself AGAIN when I think they are there for style and suspense. Like Varric I already know they need to craft a red lyrium dagger, they straight up TOLD ME. That scene didn’t need to be in there at all. Solas’ little monologue rehashing everything in the beginning was unnecessary, and honestly him just telling us who we were against without us first seeing how bad it was…just…It took the suspense out of it. Like imagine if Inquisition straight up told you that Corypheus was the baddie just immediately in the Temple of Sacred Ashes prologue scene. That’s what it felt like.

Which brings me to the dialogue and characters I suppose. The companions have the depth of a shallow pool and Rook has less. They have moments where I like them, but tbh I don’t really care for any of them because how could I? I can’t talk to them. It feels empty. I like that they have lights telling me when I have new dialogue, but I miss having conversations with Dorian or Zevran, getting to know them before I started flirting with them. But nope. None of that. And good god the flirting is cringey because of it. Just comes out of nowhere and feels like teenagers. Again, there are moments where I’m like: THAT DO THAT, but it goes right back to the blah stuff. Like whoever wrote the Crows, good job. I loved Teia almost immediately. Viago great. Illario, I’m intrigued. Lucanis by default also interests me, but unfortunately, I don’t get to explore his character much. Irelin is also good. I liked the Veil Jumper fight you could get into with Strife (felt like witnessing a father/child yelling match). Where’s that sort of dialogue with everyone else?

And ROOK. Oh god Rook. They make a big deal about us not being able to be a people pleaser, and yet that’s the only personality Rook has. My favorite moment of Inquisition was in Trespasser where the Inquisitor could FINALLY have a human moment and BREAK. It felt like they had been bottling it up for so long and they just couldn’t anymore. I don't foresee Rook getting that sort of moment.

Rook is just three flavors of customer service. There’s no option for them to be anything but the dashing hero who has boundless optimism like a puppy. Where’s the option be the reluctant hero? The ruthless “hero”? They are just a bumbling idiot with witty one liners.

They feel like a teenager’s first protag as they try to give them “flaws” but never show those flaws. Nothing you do matters, just how you say “yes I’ll help”. There’s no nuance. No places where I think Rook can grow without ME. Rook is just a blank doll without me projecting onto them and even in BIG supposedly heartwrenching moments, Rook is just an idiot. And put them with the juvenile and forced dialogue of the companions? It feels like they are a pre-teen who’s been put in charge of a bunch of toddlers while the nice uncle tries to soothe them and the abusive dad yells.

The abusive dad is Solas btw. Varric says he views us all as children, to which I want to reply: yeah and he’s a piece of shit dad who rubs their toddler’s face into their diaper going “LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE BAD BAD BAD!” Like honestly, you can tell it’s not the same people writing these characters. Solas feels like they decided the low approval Solas was the canon no matter what. In Inquisition I truly felt like he was redeemable. This Solas? Nah, I want to stab that bitch first chance. Like he’s giving me no reason to like him and he’s being a dick for no fucking reason. Maybe later on we learn a reason, but in 20 hours there’s ZERO. That’s a problem if you are trying to get me to see his side of things. And the tonal shifts from when he shows that he regrets stabbing Varric? Feel forced, like my dude I think you are lying just because you seem to be unable to comprehend half of this is YOUR fault.

Which ties into my last gripe: this is not MY Thedas. The decision to make only the last fifteen minutes of a paid DLC mean ANYTHING (and tbh I have yet to find where the hell it actually matters in 20 hours. I have two saves about the same amount of progress: one Solavellan and the other Dorian, they are basically the exact opposite choices. I can't say I've found where anything has changed, so what was that about them not wanting to do one bit of dialogue???? At least in Inquisition within the first two hours I could find those bits of dialogue) that decision made it where none of these characters matter to me. They feel more like carrots dangling in front of long-time players trying to entice us closer, but when you grab the carrot…it just vanishes.

That’s not MY Morrigan. That’s not MY Varric, MY Solas, MY Dorian. They are NewBioWare’s versions of them. The Inquisitor? The character I played over 100 hours as isn’t MINE. They are a stranger because they tore away any agency I had. They just picked whatever personality they wanted and said LOOK SEE CONNECTION. But there’s no history, no connection, NOTHING. There’s so many places where I can see where they could’ve done something. And if I can see them, why couldn’t anyone at BioWare?

They forgot that DA’s uniqueness wasn’t just the companions (and these ones are just below DA2’s since we didn’t get to interact with them either, so…), it was the world and how it reacted to choices in previous games. How new heroes might have to deal with the consequences (and to be fair, no DA game has ever actually managed to deliver on that, but they at least TRIED).

This though…

TL;DR: this should’ve felt like a homecoming and instead it feels like BioWare demolished my home, spray painted the ruins with soft pastels and is trying to tell me it’s the same, if not better. And it’s not, and probably never will be again.