#i am just not used to attention in this scale and i don't want to intimitade myself feeling like i have to keep up with it

[mari-lair]

also what happened with the anon button

I took away the Anon option to slow down the asks I get since I couldn't keep up and... well I still can't keep up even with anon off so I have (temporarily) turned my asks off.

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ contents: dealing with dragon!form zhongli who possesses cat-like behaviours. human reader. dragon husband. sfw. fluff. established relationship. might be a little ooc. this is very unserious. 0.6k. | masterlist (i’m a dark content blog so mdni).

Dragon!Zhongli who acts much like an affectionate housecat despite his towering size and the magnitude of his status.

He, who is so comfortable around his human partner that he isn't afraid to bear his dragon form day-to-day, lest his cat-like behaviours (endearing as they are) go unnoticed.

Every time you run your fingers through the silk of his dark locks or scratch at the base of his horns, that's when it starts. A deep, soothing vibration beneath his scaled chest. The low rumble is almost hypnotic as his amber eyes drift closed, lulling him (and yourself) into a state of ease. If you remain watchful, you'll catch the corners of his lips curl ever-so-slightly upwards.

You can’t help but giggle because you know it’s not quite purring, but it might as well be.

Dragon!Zhongli whose tail is as much part of his personality as his deep voice and eloquent spiels. First and foremost, that thing is unapologetically heavy. When he’s in a good mood, it swishes around lazily, thumping against the furniture or brushing against your legs as he walks by.

Once it knocked over an entire stack of books and while you were busy laughing, he just sighed and said, “An unfortunate accident.” But if he’s feeling especially affectionate? Even worse. That's when you really have to watch out. It possessively curls around you and suddenly you’re dealing with the weight of a solid tail pulling you closer to him. You’ve almost toppled over a few times because of it.

“Careful, Zhongli,” you’ll tell him. “You might end up sweeping me off my feet.” Then he chuckles at you, tail tightening around your waist just a smidge.

That’s the idea, of course.

Dragon!Zhongli who feigns annoyance every time you act on your favourite habit: lifting his lips to inspect his fangs.

They’re a far cry from the tiny, delicate teeth of a cat, which is the only other creature you’ve subjected to this odd little inspection but that makes them even more fascinating.

"Must you do this every time?" he asks, lips pulling back just enough for you to admire them. They were sharp, pristine, and unsettlingly perfect. Enough to crack a bone with a single snap of his jaw but it was the same mouth he kissed you with. You never got used it.

"I'm lucky you’ve never nicked me with these," you’ll tease, brushing your finger along the largest fang.

Zhongli's responses are always the same: a long exhale as if you've just asked him to recite every contract he's ever known (which he could btw), followed by, “You’re enamoured with the oddest things.” But he lets you do it anyway. His words begin lose a bit of their weight when his tail slowly starts swaying behind him, exposing that he’s enjoying it more than he lets on.

And no one will ever believe you when you tell them how he is when he's feeling playful. It's a rarity but he'll nudge you gently with his horns as a display of affection and if you don't respond right away, he'll flick his tail at you. Not hard but enough for you to look his way.

Pay attention to me, it seems to say.

It’s mischievous, even if for a moment. Then you’ll catch a glint in his eye while he pretends to be all composed, but truly, he finds it amusing how he easily this form could be used as a weapon against you when he warrants his own needs.

The mighty dragon, who can command the earth itself, is stripped of his grandeur when you're around, replaced by a creature who wants nothing more than to be with you in the simplest way. And if you mention it, he’ll give you that look of half exasperation and half fondness before pulling you closer and acting like it’s purely your fault he’s such a softie with you.

a/n: if it wasn’t obvious already, i am a cat person (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[mareastrorum]

Hello! I’ve been looking at your blog after Critical Role episodes for a couple of weeks now and I have to agree with you wholeheartedly about pretty much all of it. I wanted to ask you your opinion on the idea that a majority of us are calling Bells Hells the bad guys because all they’re doing is ‘wanting to dismantle the oppressive force that aims to destroy an entire established society of innocent people’. I’m having trouble understanding what oppressive force that is?

Thanks for the ask! There's two parts to this, so I'm going to address them separately.

First, there is no "oppressive force that aims to destroy an entire established society of innocent people." Like, the only group that came close to that in this campaign was the Weave Mind and the Imperium, which intended to take over Exandria in its entirety and subject the entire population to hivemind slavery--but Bell's Hells did little to oppose them. Vox Machina (backed up by an army) demolished the Imperium's main forces at the Exandrian base of the bloody bridge. The Mighty Nein killed the Weave Mind and then started mopping up their allies that remained on Ruidus. Bell's Hells did nothing to support that rebellion other than assist on a scouting/sabotage mission and then flee.

Otherwise, there is no force aiming to destroy society. Ludinus wanted Predathos out so it could eat the gods, and there was no intent about anything other than that. He did not care one way or the other about collateral damage. Predathos doesn't either, but it wants to eat, and we do not know what level of divinity is too small for it to prioritize. And let's be serious, unless a god flees and lures it away, there's no reason for Predathos not to look at a planet full of life and think, "Hmmm, it might not taste good, but I am so fucking hungry."

A good while ago, when the Hells had initially reached Vasselheim, I saw discussion of whether Vasselheim and other Exandrian forces intended to wipe out all Reilorans and other Ruidus-based species. I think Evoroa's plea and assistance made directly to the leadership of Vasselheim has already prevented that potential result. Of course, the Exandrians are working together as a collective of dozens of factions, and each of those has untold numbers of individuals working for them. It's possible some of them will insist on war anyway, but given the actions of the three campaign parties, I don't see that happening on an organized scale. Regardless, Bell's Hells aren't focusing on that right now, and nothing they could/would do with Predathos would affect that either.

The only other faction that comes close to that idea is the Betrayer Gods, but they don't care about society. They want genocide. They want to murder every single mortal in existence, and then torment their immortal souls for all eternity. I literally cannot overstate the disdain the Betrayers have for mortals. They are Exandrians' ultimate enemy. The Divine Gate is the only thing protecting mortals from the Betrayers, and it requires every god to unanimously agree to drop it. That is phenomenal protection. There's been no serious threat to it since its creation.

In particular, I want to highlight that "the gods" as a category of entity are not a united faction. The gods don't rule anything on Exandria--not even Vasselheim. That's a purely mortal project! Mortals decided to build a city dedicated to the gods, and given that it's filled with their followers, the gods have historically spent particular attention to protecting it. That makes perfect sense, and it doesn't mean the gods are in charge of it.

Obviously, there will be other factions across Exandria that could fit that bill, but Bell's Hells hasn't had to deal with them in this campaign. Like, chaotic evil factions exist, they're just not in this story right now.

Next, whether Bell's Hells are villains, bad guys, etc.

I've written up how I assess villains in my pinned post. That's my general approach to any type of story, whether it's interactive, written, oral, etc. It's a very broad overview of when is a villain an effective narrative device? I am rather harsh in my criticism of villains: if they didn't improve the story, they should not have been included at all.

We could cherrypick through the various episodes to come up with an argument that Bell's Hells are the bad guys, but my problem with them is that they aren't effective villains. A villain's primary purpose is to highlight a theme in the negative: what is the wrong thing to do in these circumstances, and why is that? The reason they aren't effective is that they don't have a motivating purpose.

Bell's Hells are a chaotic faction that consistently deviates from whatever is requested of them. They claim to be for the people, then denigrate and oppose every faction they've encountered. They claim to have changed their minds about some of the gods (the Matron and the Arch Heart in particular), then repeatedly ignore or contradict the plain statements told to them, but they still seek out the gods' instructions regardless. This carelessness or apathy makes it impossible to map a philosophy onto the PCs other than "I felt like doing it in the moment."

None of them have been able to articulate a reason that they chose this path. Maybe the players will come up with some hamfisted excuse next episode, but it's still going to be unsatisfying from a narrative viewpoint. This stream had hundreds of hours to show that and instead needs someone to say it in the last episode. It's terrible storytelling, and none of them could claim that it was impossible to see this confrontation coming. We've known it was coming since Ludinus successfully bridged Exandria and Ruidus. There was time, and it was not spent wisely.

Going beyond dialogue, there's no consistency to Bell's Hells's actions except the desire to kill Ludinus. That muddled any potential message that could be conveyed about them as villains in a story except "kill Ludinus in particular." We can't even say they oppose any existing hegemony because none has been established in Exandria. There's no racial, economic, social, religious, etc. group dominating the world. Again, as said above, the gods don't rule anything, and they're stuck behind the gate.

Any potential to build Bell's Hells into worthwhile villains was squandered. Everyone but Orym had an explicit, tailor-made opportunity to lean into their darker personality traits, and every one of them chickened out--except Ashton, who gave into his desire to be special and have power to lash out at people standing over him. Unfortunately, Ashton's attempt to absorb another shard of a primordial would have also broken the game on a D&D level, so that got reversed and reworked into a character moment that also had no lasting impact on his character arc. Ashton hasn't bothered exploring it since. That's really the core problem: every time the PCs had the option to pursue a villainous path, they ran the fuck in the opposite direction, then dithered about what to do.

Without conviction, villains are merely bullies. They're just here to be mean, stop other people from getting what they want, and jeer at others when they get their way. We saw that in this latest episode. There's nothing Bell's Hells wants. They don't even want to be involved. They're just doing it because they can't even commit to going home--because they're player characters in a D&D game, and the players didn't want to switch to new characters.

That makes for a terrible villain story. Like, once we see the final episode and all the PCs have had an opportunity to take action and speak on their own behalf, we'd be able to revisit this with more definitive statements. Unfortunately, I can't think of a single way this could go that would correct the flaws I've already listed. It's far too late to correct the characters' lack of direction to develop a coherent villain arc for any of Bell's Hells.

[just-a-ghost00]

The way you make me feel ~

Images found on Pinterest. Deck used : golden thread tarot. Reading written from their POV.

Group 1

Hermit, Temperance, Queen of pentacles, The Magician, knight of pentacles, ace of pentacles

You make me feel safe. Cared for. Loved in ways I never thought were possible. Nurtured. Understood. Appreciated, not only because of my work or my wealth but solely for who I am as a person. You make me feel strong. Like the world is at the tip of my fingers and all I got to do is to reach further to make my wildest dreams come true. You make me feel strong. Determined. Wise. With you, everything seems so simple. So bright and warm. You make me feel like time has stopped and it's just the two of us. I feel like I am in a bubble. A cozy cocoon that was made just for me. I feel like I belong somewhere. Like finally, after so many trials and errors, I get to be rewarded. I feel so blessed to have you in my life. I still wonder how all of this is possible. You make me want to believe in magic again. I feel like I'm walking on a line, perfectly balanced and at peace with myself, reassured by the thought that whatever I decide to do, whichever way I decide to go, you'll be there to catch me if I fall. Like you'll always follow me and never leave my side. I feel so happy I could cry. You make me feel like everything is possible and nothing can stop me from my success. I feel invicible with you by my side. You make me want to believe in myself and move forward with my head held high, slowly but surely, at my own pace, on my own terms. With you I feel secure, confident in my ability to create a life I can be proud of, to embody a person that people can look up to with respect in their eyes. You make me feel grand, so much bigger than I am. You bring so much in my life that I don't know how I could ever thank you. In your presence, I feel like I am given a second chance at life. Like my time has come and I can be born again.

Group 2

10 of swords, 4 of wands, Temperance, 9 of pentacles, Hanged man, ace of wands

You make me feel puzzled. I don't know if I should be mad at you or adore you. You get on my nerves and yet you make me so proud. With you I feel like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I don't feel as lonely as I used to be. I feel like I can hope for a better future than what I've been handed so far. I feel like I can overcome my fears and face any obstacle coming my way. Like I am worthy of love and interest. I feel alive again. I feel hopeful about the future and inspired to move forward. My creativity has rocketed. I feel triggered. Like everything I thought I knew is complete BS and that honestly shakes me and upsets me in a way. I feel like I have to start all over again, like my work wasn't enough and as good as I thought it was. You make me feel like focusing on myself and taking care of my own goals isn't as bad as it sounds. That I too am capable of creating a reality I can be proud of. Like my unique perception of life and lonely nature can actually be an asset and a driving force. You give me the courage to face my demons and be a better person. You make me feel like I can tip the scales in my favor and change the course of action. Like life isn't as harsh and bad as I thought it was. Like I can be whole again and enjoy the pleasures this world has to offer. You make me feel bold and curious again. You make me want to celebrate and have fun, to shift my perspective and learn. You challenge me. And as much as that confuses me that also sets me free. I'm not sure why or how you do this but I thank you for the clarity you bring into my life.

Group 3

Empress, 8 of pentacles, 8 of cups, High Priestess, 9 of pentacles, 10 of swords

You make me feel whole. Worthy of love and attention. Beautiful. Valuable. You make me feel powerful and important. Like all the worries in the world are nothing for I am stronger than this. With you I feel like there will never be a day where I feel sad again. Like I can tackle anything and turn dust into gold. You make me feel fearless. With you, the dark and sorrow don't sound as scary as they once were. You make me feel like my despair is over. Like my prayers have finally been answered. But I also feel scared. Scared that my depth and darkness will have a repelling effect on you. I fear that the more I grow, the more chances I have of losing you. You make me feel attractive. You make me want to love myself more and work harder to be a version of myself I will adore. You make me feel human. For the first time in my life I feel like I don't have to apologize for who I am. You make me feel understood, seen and appreciated. With you I feel protected. I feel like sadness can no longer hold me down. You make me want to reach higher heights and set higher goals, to prove everyone how wrong they were of underestimating me. You make me want to fight. You make me feel like I can own the world. Like I can finally stand in my power and embrace the entirety of my being without shame nor fear. You make me feel brand new, like I am reborn, like I have everything to gain and nothing to lose. You make me want to go beyond my limits and transform my being, to heal my wounds and move on once and for all from my past. I can't find the words to describe how much this means to me.

[realcube]

dilf december

day thirteen ⭑ tenya iida ⭑ tiny dresses ?!

tw : nsfw minors dni , age gap, praise & slight mentions of exhibitionism

every year at christmas time, the ingenium family holds a festive soirée.

however, it was not a small nor intimate gathering. in fact, it was a rather large-scale event, with a very exclusive and high-value guest list, such as the most popular pro-heroes and the richest ceos. anybody the iida househod deemed worthy would be invited, though that wasn't an easy standard to meet.

the purpose of this soirée was to heighten the ingeniums' reputation, socialise, raise money for charity and simply have fun. there will be fine dining, high-class decor and most importantly, entertainment. naturally, hosting one of these events was hard-work, and would require preparation and planning months in advance.

and this year, tenya was selected to host this year's festive soirée.

so by the time december thirteenth rolled around, he was stressed out his mind. the soirée was right around the corner and he felt as though there was still so many things he had to take care of — not to mention the number of cancellations and issues pertaining catering and scheduling. it was all just becoming too much!

he paced around the foyer of the manor, weaving between the hoardes of workers setting up the flamboyant decorations, while his phone was pressed against his ear, "tch, well, i'm very sorry to hear that you are unwell, but this is terrible timing. can't you just perform while wearing a mask?"

planners approached him even while he was clearly occupied, asking his opinion on gold or silver for the plate accents, and he would have to circle his answer on the clipboard handed to him. "this is highly unprofessional on your part!" he spoke sourly into the phone, continuing to navigate his way through the bustling space, "could you at least put me in contact with another pianist that has availability for the sixteenth— hello? hello, are you still—" he pulls his mobile away from his face to see that the connection has been severed.

muttering curses under his breath, he is about to attempt to call the pianist again, until you skip up to him with a massive grin on your face and a parcel in your hands, "tenya! there you are; i've been looking for you for ages!"

even when he is crumbling under the stress of planning the perfect event and living up to his family's unreal expectations, it still warms his heart to see you so cheery and upbeat, and it immediately brightens his mood. "sorry, dear. i've been dealing with— uh, some problems." he staggers awkwardly, though your blank stare implies you have no idea what he's talking about so he clarifies, "nevermind. what's the matter?"

"oh, nothing. my outfit for the soirée arrived in mail just now, so i was wondering if you wanted a little sneak peak?" you explain merrily, rocking as on your heels with excitement, "you can tell me if it looks good."

"i'm certain it will look amazing on you; everything does." he reassures, rubbing your shoulder with his big hand and planting a kiss on your forehead. "additionally, i am quite busy at the moment. why don't you show me on the day of the event? that would be a fun surprise, no?"

he says it with a smile and raised eyebrows, as though it was a playful concept, but he can tell by your suddenly downcast expression that you aren't keen.

"but i need to try it on before the event so i know if i got the right size or not, and i've been really looking forward to us trying it on together. that way we can have our first reactions at the same time." you raise the parcel up to cover your face, in a purposefully poor attempt to conceal your disappointment, "see, i've not even taken it out of packaging yet.."

tenya frowns; the only feeling worse than stress is knowing that he's upset his angel somehow. although, he could only feel guilty for so long before his attention shifted onto the parcel in your hands, "is that the package with your outfit inside?"

you nod feebly.

he blinked in horror. he thought that was just a parcel with something unrelated in it that happened to arrive alongside your outfi. the package in your hand was around the size of a sheet of paper, and barely thicker than one. it would be a miracle if it could fit a charger inside; forget a whole dress!

"o— okay," he stuttered, swiftly taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom, "i suppose i can make some time for you to show me your outfit."

the veins in his forehead were ready to brust, meanwhile you gleefully hummed and followed him, pleased by his sudden interest in your clothes.

he took a seat at the end of your shared bed while you went into the ensuite bathroom and changed. quite clumsily; he cringed each time he heard a bump or a thud, and would call out, "are you alright, dear?"

"mhm!" you'd croak, while trying to steady yourself on the sink.

eventually, several minutes later, you came out of the bathroom, dressed in your new outfit for the soirée: a short red dress, with a thick black belt around the waist which not only sculpted your gorgeous figure, but also served to imitate the look of santa clause. it had a fluffy white trim around the edge of the skirt and the sweetheart neckline, but it still did a poor job of concealing all the cleavage you had on display, or even the top of your nipples that were just poking out from the collar.

it didn't hide much on the bottom half either, especially not when you turned around. you gave iida a little spin to highlight how the fluffy trim was done underneath the skirt too, but all he could focus on was how the dress caught so much air, he was able to catch a glimpse of the black panties you were wearing.

his teeth grinded together at the obscene sight. there was no way you could attend the event wearing something as revealing as that dress, but he worried over how he could express this fact you without upsetting you. plus, it would be hard for him to ask you to take it off when he's clearly pitching a tent in his trousers.

"that— looks wonderful, darling." he stuttered, face growing redder by the second, as he watched you strike all sorts of poses in your new-found love, "do you like it?"

"yeah, it's pretty. i think i should've sized-down, though. i'm basically drowning in this." you mused, checking yourself out in the mirror adjacent to the bed. of course you were only joking, despite attempting to come off as sincere. you were aware of how slutty your dress was, and you obviously had no intention of wearing it to the soirée, but you enjoyed nothing more than teasing your poor boyfriend.

tenya, still oblivious to your prank, almost gasped at your comment. thinking about you in a dress any smaller than the one you were already in, made him dizzy. any less fabric and you'd surely be arrested for public indecency, and unfortunately something about that thought turned him on.

feeling unwell now, he gulped down his perverted thought and croaked, "you're absolutely right. you should exchange this dress for a smaller size. meanwhile, you can wear something else to the soirée."

"should i?" you fake-ponder, tapping your chin with your finger innocently.

"of course. you have plenty of other fashionable dresses; all of which you look magnificent in." he motions to your wardrobe, and you slide it open, sifting through your hundreds of clothes on hangers.

"you're right.." you admit with a pout, thoroughly searching through all your pieces, "i think i actually have the perfect back-up outfit.. here!" you exclaim, yanking out something from the rack, but before iida can even take a peek at it, you dash into the bathroom again, telling him to wait for the reveal.

and this time he waited patiently, eagerly expecting one of the modest yet timeless dresses he bought you for your collection.

to his dismay, you stepped out wearing only a singular, long strip of tinsel, strategically wrapped around your tits to — barely — hide your nipples and around your hips a couple of times, though he could still clearly see your thong underneath.

you step out like last time, twirl, then inspect yourself in the mirror, adjusting the tinsel so it covered the desired areas more presicely. "this one is a bit itchy but i quite like it. very modern and eye-catching, don't you think?"

your commentary, and that you are barely able to suppress your amusement anymore, tips him off to the fact you're just trying to get a reaction out of him. and his previously agape mouth pulls into a wide smile, as he chuckles, burying his face into his hands, "you minx. my blood pressure was high enough before you pulled this stunt."

you snicker and walked towards him to sit down beside him, but he pulls you onto his lap, " 'm sorry," you whine, placing a light kiss against his cheek, "i just wanted to take your mind off of planning for a little bit."

"aren't you the sweetest?" he states, reciprocating by pecking your lips, and slowly letting a hand roam up your waist and then under your tinsel, "i can think of another way you can help, dear."

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 2

Understanding Yourself Starts With Being Honest

Hi Goddesses! Yesterday we talked about what becoming our best selves means, and today we're diving into something really important, meeting ourselves exactly where we are.

Picture yourself packing for a journey. You'd check what you already have in your suitcase before deciding what else you need, right? That's exactly what we're doing today on our path to 2025, taking a inventory of where we are right now.

I know, I know. Self-assessment can feel a bit intimidating. Maybe you're worried about facing some truths, or perhaps you think it might be discouraging. But think of it as like turning on the GPS before starting a journey. You need to know your starting point to get where you want to go.

First things first: breathe. This isn't about judgment. Think of it as having coffee with your most supportive friend (that's me!) who just wants to help you reflect and grow. Ready? Let’s start.

Start With Your Gut

Remember when you wake up in the morning and have that first quiet moment to yourself? That's when our gut feelings are often the clearest. Take a moment right now. How do you feel about where you are in life? Not what others think, not what social media says you should be doing, just your honest feelings. Grab a notebook (or open your Notes app) and write down whatever comes to mind. No filtering, no judging.

The Life Wheel Check-In

Here's something I find super helpful: imagine your life as a wheel with different spokes. Think about these areas:

Your physical health and energy levels

Your relationships (family, friends, romantic)

Your work or studies

Your personal growth and learning

Your fun and recreation time

Your living space and environment

Your financial situation

Your emotional wellbeing

For each one, ask yourself: "On a scale where 10 is 'couldn't be better' and 1 is 'needs serious attention,' where am I?" Be real with yourself, this is just between us.

The "What's Working" List

Here's something we often skip: celebrating what's already good! Before diving into what you want to change, write down what's working well in your life. Maybe you're great at maintaining friendships, or you've been consistent with your morning routine, or you finally learned how to cook that one dish you love. These wins, big or small, are your foundation for growth.

The Honest Reality Check

Now comes the part that requires some courage: looking at areas where you feel stuck or unsatisfied. But here's the twist, we're going to do this with compassion. Instead of thinking "What's wrong with me?" ask yourself:

What's challenging me right now?

What keeps coming up in my thoughts as something I wish were different?

Where do I feel like I'm not living up to my own standards (not anyone else's)?

Your Future Self Letter

This is one of my favorite exercises: Write a letter from your future self (let's say December 2024) to your current self. What would they thank you for starting now? What changes would they be grateful you made? This isn't about pressure, it's about connecting with your hopes and dreams.

Getting Real with Yourself

Now, let's make this assessment more practical. Pick just three things:

One thing you want to maintain (because it's working well)

One thing you want to improve gradually

One thing you want to change significantly

Write these down somewhere you'll see them daily. Your phone wallpaper, a sticky note on your mirror, wherever works for you.

Remember This, you're not broken and you don't need fixing. You're a human being on a journey of growth, just like all of us. This self-assessment isn't about finding faults, it's about understanding where you are so you can move forward with purpose.

Take a moment to appreciate yourself for doing this work. Seriously. Self-reflection takes courage, and you're already showing up for yourself by reading this and (hopefully) doing these exercises.

Stay tuned for the next post in our "Become Your Best Version Before 2025" series! Remember, you've got this!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Arranged marriage

Chapter three

Royal au

Princess Natasha X queen autistic reader

Warnings: Natasha being a bitch. Natasha being jealous. Woman flirting with y/n. Swearing (minor) lemme know if there anymore. Natasha getting feelings? Oblivious y/n

Natasha pov

I want to rip out my eyes. Why on earth am I here. This is so stupid. Riding in a carriage with this idiot queen. Those are my first thoughts as I stare angrily out the window of the carriage me and queen y/n are sitting in. Said queen is hiding from the crowds of people outside the carriage. She's so backwards. Never wanting too many people around and only tolerating socialisation for a specific time frame before vanishing for sometimes days. In my opinion she's not fit to be a queen.

Fresh air finally. I think to myself as me and the idiot behind me climb out the carriage into the town square. People have crowded near the carriage. Ofcourse they have. Their "queen" is here. I grumble slightly as the guards help down y/n. Gods she can't even get out a carriage by herself what a useless idiot. I don't know why but my thoughts of rage and hatred have increased towards y/n. Perhaps it's to make up for the fact she's cute and her hands are soft and she really nice. Like right now with how she's thanking the guard who helped her over and over like the absolute sweetheart she is. What. No. Absolutely not. Y/n is a idiot on the throne and I will murder her. I don't find her cute I don't find her sweet and Queen y/n is not a sweetheart.

There's a wyvern on that houses roof. I wonder if y/n will notice it and rant about its species. I already know it's a wyvern because y/n said earl- why am I thinking that. It's just an idiot dragon. And boom y/n has seen it. She's ranting again. Gods I hate it. What on earth is a blood bellied wyvern and why does it matter. That dragon was black not red. I hate cobblestone too now that I think about it. My heels keep threatening to buckle beneath me. Good thing I'm an absolute goddess and can walk in heels anywhere.

Y/n pov

The carriage ride to the town square was quiet. I didn't want to interrupt Natasha too much. And if I spoke even a word I'm pretty sure she'd tell me to shut it anyway. Besides looking out the window was fun. I saw so many different dragons. I wish I could've been able to get a proper look so I could see what species they are. There's so many people outside watching the carriage though. I should've held this off until my social battery filled again. I am going to hate this trip. I really should stop letting Natasha's parents coerce me into stuff.

Finally the carriage stops and the doors open and fresh air hits me like a train. I go to step out but a guard offers me a hand. I have told them to stop doing that. They really should listen I can get out of my own carriage. But I accept his help not wanting him to feel foolish. The cobblestone streets are filled with people and horses and carriages. I like the town. Aside from the bustling people and market stalls scattered around the town square it's a nice break from the palace. A nice break from being a queen. Princess Natasha is scowling. Like always. I am pretty sure it's her default expression.

Me and the princess have walk a little now. Passed a stall selling dragon egg remains. I don't like those stalls. They often steal and break dragon eggs to get the product. I shudder slightly. Natasha hasn't been paying any attention. She's been grumbling about idiots and cobblestone. She wore heels so I guess that's why. Should've worn flat shoes like me. I did tell her so. I look up at the houses around us and.. no way. A blood bellied wyvern right there on the rooftop of a civilian house. They only come down this way in the winter! I've never seen one before aside from in books.

My mouth is running again. I never know why I do this. But I excuse myself mentally this time since I've never witnessed this dragon before. Their scales are reflective of their blood colour which is why they're called blood bellied wyverns. Well the belly part is because you see the actual veins and blood but still. I haven't had a single interruption from Natasha yet. She's just walking silently beside me as I rant. I slow down and pause looking at the queen feeling a bit bad now. I must've pissed her off in some way again.

"are you ok princess?"

I ask hesitantly. I don't like the way Natasha has paused. She's staring at me funny and I'm prepared for her to scowl and scream at me. She huffs instead.

"I'm fine just keep walking."

I blink surprised as Natasha keeps walking and I speed up to catch up to her.

Natasha pov

She's still ranting. Something about the wyverns scales reflecting their blood colour.. oh that's why it's called whatever it was. I can't help but steal glances at y/n. She's so annoying. So very annoying. And absolutely perfect at the exact same time. No. I won't go down that rabbit hole. I am not stupid. Falling in love is for pitiful useless peasants. Not royalty. Why does my heart not agree with my head. It's stupid. I'll fix it.

"are you ok princess?"

Y/n's voice stops me. That's not about dragons. I glance down at her attempting a scowl but I can't respond. She's looking at me with wide y/e/c eyes and I can't help but find her expression adorable. No. No no no no no. She's not adorable and she's not cute. I huff slightly shaking away all those intrusive thoughts

"I'm fine just keep walking"

I scowl again as I pick up pace once more. Y/n speeding up to get back to my side. She's so small. Like a puppy. No. Absolutely not. Puppies and y/n have nothing in common. I'll kill her. And I won't feel bad about it and I won't regret it. Everything will be fine. I go to yell at y/n as per normal but she's not by me anymore. I glance around and.. there. By a stall selling books and scrolls. I stand and watch her annoyed. Ofcourse she'd stop to look at scrolls and books. And judging by her expression it's dragon bullshit again. The woman serving her is leaning over the counter and talking to y/n about different species. That grin on the merchants face. That's not a friendly grin...

It's been ten minutes and y/n has not stopped talking to the merchant. She's bought atleast three books and five scrolls. And that merchant is clearly flirting with y/n. Doesn't she know the queen is engaged. To me no less. Why is this bothering me. I mean I should be annoyed it's taking so long that's normal but why am I pissed that the queen is being flirted with. Why does it irritate me more than the books. I want to tear that merchant's eyes out and turn them into a necklace for y/n to wear and I don't know why.

She touched her arm. That merchant touched y/n's arm. And I don't like it. Rage hits me like a brick. That bitch can't touch what's mine. There is a clear engagement ring on the queen's finger and it's public knowledge that y/n is betrothed to me. I storm over absolutely enraged at this pathetic sellers attempt to steal MY y/n. Swiftly wrapping an arm around y/ns waist I glare down my nose at this merchant. Watching in sick satisfaction as she backs up scared. Good to know she recognises me.

"back the fuck away from my fiancee."

I snarl. Pulling y/n closer to me. She's so small and she's looking at me shocked. I'll deal with it later. That merchant gets the hint and backs up mumbling apologies and handing y/n her books. I grab them and pull the queen with me away and back towards the carriage. I don't y/n until we are both in the carriage and leaving.

Y/n pov

I saw a dragons scroll and books stall. That looked fun so I told Natasha I was looking at it and went over. I haven't seen this stall before and it has so many books and scrolls. Most I already own but a few I don't! I immediately purchase the scrolls and books I don't have. It would be foolish if I didn't. A waste. Besides I'm the queen I can do as I please. The merchant running the stall is wonderful too. She's really friendly. Immediately we are in conversation about gilded bronze dragons and their subspecies. I haven't met a single other person who could talk dragons with me.

Don't recognise the touch at first. The seller just put her hand on my arm and smirked at me. I blink and smile back not really knowing what's happening before I'm grabbed into someone and the merchant is backing away. I frown wanting to continue talking about dragons and books still. I glance at the person who grabbed me prepared to tell them off for grabbing me politely because yelling at people is Soo mean and I don't have the heart until I realise the person who grabbed me is princess Natasha romanoff.

"back the fuck away from my fiancee."

Natasha scowls at the merchant as she pulls me closer. I didn't realise how much taller the princess was compared to me. Jesus Christ am I actually that short. I blink slightly and glance around trying to gouge out if this is normal or weird and nope this is definitely weird the townspeople are looking at us funny. I'm about to speak until Natasha grabs my books and scrolls and begins dragging me back to the carriage. I don't even argue with her I'm in a state of shock. I never thought I'd see the day Natasha would get... Jealous?

A/n: I am sorry this is so late I didn't like the ending originally and rewrote it like three times so I haven't been on much but I've started chapter four and I will go back to normal posting again I promise.

Tag list:

@cd-4848

@idkwhatever580

@gemz5

If you wanna be added to the taglist just ask in the comments:)

[writingjourney]

espresso stains // secondo

1k words, non-descript f!oc/third person reader (you can read this as my oc manon or just insert yourself/whoever), some self-esteem issues, reassurances, established relationship, mildly suggestive, 18+ MDNI

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

The espresso cup clinks gently as he sets it down on the matching saucer – ceramics irrevocably stained by years of use, adorned only by one clean brown line just below the rim, right where his mouth rested a moment ago. He sighs, weary after a full meal, licking the remains of coffee from his lips. An easy-going smile, a hand on her shoulder, kneading until the tension melts underneath his fingertips. Her own cup is empty, the tiny handle still trapped between two fingers, and he has to peel her hand away from it to fold it into his large palm.

"You know you don't always have to go out of your way to cook for me," she says.

"I am not going out of my way," he states.

Quiet, then, the rhythmic press of his thumb, gazes caught, that soft shimmer in his eyes when she relaxes under his touch.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asks.

"What?"

"To be taken care of."

His readings of her have become so precise that she thinks it must be written all over her face, how she doesn't feel like she deserves this level of attention, him standing in the kitchen for hours to feed her, running her baths, massaging her tense muscles, comforting her anxieties. It makes her want to cry, makes her feel like a child, that ever-present longing, a hunger for love that was never sated when she was small, and now that he offers her such care it is like she doesn't know how what to do with it.

"Not uncomfortable just–" She sits with the feeling, locates the core of it. "Unworthy."

He doesn't disagree but his brows pull together, the barest hint of tension giving him away. She chews on this reveal, though she has a suspicion that it is nothing new to him. It is hard to explain, how you can long for something so desperately and still find it impossible to accept.

"I find pleasure in it," he says after a while, still looking at her, still kneading. "Cooking for you, buying you things you would never buy for yourself, making sure you eat, rest, sleep."

He lifts her hand, pulling her towards him, and she follows willingly into his lap where he wanted her all along. His hands map out the shape of her, nose dragging up her shoulder, her neck, following the trail of her perfume with a soft hum.

"I find pleasure in taking care of you," he says, now so close, lips ghosting over her jaw.

"But– why?"

"Why?" he mirrors the questions. "Why does anyone? Because it is human, because we are made to care."

"Why me, then?"

Her hands find purchase on his shoulders just in time for him to lean back and away from her, searching her gaze. It displeases him, she knows this, when she speaks ill of herself, implicit– or explicitly.

"Because you are for me," he replies, as if that says it all. The long answer lies somewhere behind his eyes, the longing, that rare softness. For me, he says, meaning that she needs him, that for some reason he needs her too, that she has a deficiency and he has a surplus, that he too is lacking things only she can provide, that they are balancing the scales when they are together.

It scares her sometimes, to think that she is just a project to him, that one day the scales stop being even. The what ifs and what happens whens and the idea that he'll complete his mission and move on to someone who needs him more. He provides, it's what he does, he soothes and guides and teaches and brings relief to tensions that have been decades in the making. Would it be an illusion to think that he'll settle at last?

"No," he says, startling her awake just as her mind wraps around the question.

"No what?"

"You are in your head." His finger taps against her temple before his whole hand comes to splay out against the side of her head, a cocoon to trap her, so effective that the moment begins to feel real again. "I want you here with me, my dove."

"I suppose I am overthinking," she admits.

"As is your habit," he quips. "Always you slip somewhere else and I have to guess where it is, how to get you back."

She'd asked him once, after being intimate, after he'd admitted that he'd struggled to feel fulfilled in the past, who takes care of you, Secondo? And he'd been so sad at the question, but then he'd said, you do, perhaps you are the only one who does. It had been hard to imagine, then, that a man like him, so independant, so stoic and strong, could truly have need of her. But he had been genuine, perhaps the most genuine she'd ever seen him.

"I want to take care of you too," she states.

His lips curve. It's not much of a confession by any means, something she'd said in the past when he'd been so generous that she'd felt so very limited in her means to reciprocate. But somehow it weighs heavier tonight. He's a man so set in his ways, so used to being by himself in the moments when it matters, the stain of years of use, cracked ceramics glued together by spite, repressed pain of a lifetime yellowing the bottom of the cup like rings of old coffee. He doesn't have to pour it himself anymore, and perhaps it's enough that he knows.

"Will you accept me now?" he asks. "Let me take care of you in the way I've been wanting to all night?"

She nods, just so, and his hands dip low again, dragging her hips forward until they're pressed together. They share a sweet moan before their mouths come searching the other's taste, coffee and amarettini, the wine he picked for dinner. It's unhurried, slow and sensual, the type of kiss that doesn't immediately lead anywhere but bridges that gap between wanting and having, between need and relief.

Secondo's chair scrapes against hard wooden floor when he picks her up, carries her to the sofa where he'll have her for an hour or so, indulging in those very kisses, drawing them out before he thinks to take his time with her in bed throughout the night. Two empty cups on the table, a candle slowly burning out. He's not going out of his way, he said, and she knows he's right where he wants to be.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

this is another little ficlet that i took from what will hopefully be a full fic at some point but that i think works on its own as well. thank you for indulging me <3

[minced-mangoes]

I am in love with the concept of the demons in the devildom having to shed their horns, as well as possible shedding of fur, feathers, scales, or skin. With this we have to assume the demon's horns align closer to antlers than actual horns, since horns don't shed, but antlers do. Either way these are magical creatures so fuck logic. I can do what I want. Maybe they don't actually fall off, but instead shed a layer of keratin, keeping the horns shiny, strong, and unmarred. For some demons this shedding is easier, like for Lucifer and Diavolo's horns. However, with demons like Mammon and Barbatos, the details on the horn make it much harder to come off, often needing assistance.

The shed keratin from demon's horns can be used for other things, typically the creation of beauty products, and demons can get good grimm for handing in shed horn layers. I also think Satan will have to do this with his tail.

Now, the feathered demons tend to have the problem of occasional molting, and losing feathers. I'd also imagine they'd have to spend a lot of time preening and plucking their wings. Lucifer might need your help pulling a blood feather or two. Help him, please. Fur. I'm mostly thinking Belphie here. He sheds. Everywhere. Usually Beel helps by brushing out his fur, but you can definitely assist as well, it's lot of fur and four hands are better than two. Scales, this is for Levi. Please help him shed. It's not comfortable and he can't pay attention to his games if his scales have a layer peeling off. Dunk him in water, get him some nice rocks to rub up against, and peel off anything that gets really stuck. He'll be smooth, shiny, and happy afterwards.

And for the demons with wings that aren't feathered? I assume they'd need to be cared for as well. The thin wing membrane will need moisturizing. For the bug demons? help them shed their exoskeletons. I'm thinking specifically Beel and Asmo here. Yes, I headcanon they have to shed like bugs. Beel not as much, since he's a fly, but Asmo's sin animal is a scorpion, he's gonna need to get rid of that old exoskeleton as he grows. Also he comes out so much shinier and more beautiful! You gotta help him be as gorgeous as he can be!

All and all demon forms need a lot of maintenance. But that's okay, you're there to assist. Hey, maybe this will help you bond. And when you need a little help with caring for yourself, your demons will repay your kindness. ~~~ Tomi here! I take requests via my ask box! Please PLEASE PLEASE drop ideas or just things you want me to talk about there or in my comments,,, I eat stuff like that for lunch,,,

[heartofbusan]

My live reactions of AYS's final (for now 😌) episode 💛💜

-----

Jimin really had a lot of input on the itineraries and restaurants. He should get a producing credit 🤧 : 'Keeper of JK's every want, need and desire in the form of food, accommodation and more 👀': Park Jimin

OH MY BABY Like Crazyyyy!!

They really are the top singers in Korea lmao. You sometimes forget it, with how normally weird they are.

The owners of the restaurant must have been thrilled to have them. #Blessed

The boyfriend shot!?!?!? YOUR HONOR! HE DID NOT deny nor refute the outright allegation!!

Jungkook enjoys life to the fullest.

Also, Jk loves beer.

ESCUSE ME?!?!?!?

THEY GET FLIRTY WHEN DRUNK. DRUNK SHENANIGANS HAVE HAPPENED. I AM SURE OF IT.

Jungkook is such a good boy. You tell him to do something, and he does it. #obedient

JK's stomach makes all his life's decisions.

This hot tub scene is going to end me as a functioning member of society. WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLL

THIS SURE IS NICE

THIGHS. NO NOTES.

COME ON BABY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!? WHAAST

Jimin doesn’t want to extend JKs suffering. So sweet!!

"That’s my Jungkook." Omg

"HONEY"

WTF IS HAPPENING, SHOULD I LEAVE THE ROOM

Baby reference no. 4852820 and counting.

-The more relaxed they are, the more they forget they're being filmed. The touches increase, and the fawning commences. Also, Jimin watching himself and seeing how he's presenting himself for the show is such an interesting occurrence. There's an interesting thought happening there as he becomes aware of it... Is he seeing and becoming aware of his layer of veneer as they were filming? He scaled it back for sure. He let more of his acute feelings through as the seasons progressed. I love that it became less like work for him.

-They are idiots! And I love them for it! The Jeon Park household is filled with laughter. And grunting ofc. Don't forget the copious amounts of grunting. I'm watching this at work and by God if someone walks in on me listening to this...I'll get called into HR 😃 #worthit

ONGOD JIMIN ON THE FLOOR LEGS SPREAD WHO APPROVED THIS MESSAGE?!?!

Also: Jungkook loves cooking. Whomever is making fun of him for choosing to be in the kitchen is an idiot. Please always be happy JK!

Precedent. This show is setting it. Remember it well.

You realize that they have the means to travel like this all the time?!?! But they chose to take us with them? WE ARE BLESSED.

Jimin always finds a moment to connect, physically as well as emotionally. He'll never leave his man hanging on a joke.

BUT JUNGKOOK IS RIGHT THERE WITH HIM ON THE EQ SCALE..He sees Jimin fully, and he treats him gently and with tender care. Knowing Jimin is quiet because the trip is nearing its end😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

They deserve to live their lives without serving us. Without feeling like they need to show us, just because it makes us happy to see them happy. Then again, if this is them normalizing them as a unit and seeing them together, and if it serves them just as much as it does us. Well then I hope they keep up this exceptional excuse to make content. The hate will always be there. The shippers too.

But what will never change is the commitment they have towards each other. They really do complete one another *bawling*

I loved this episode! It was so relaxed and paired back. They really are a give and take couple, giving each other space, patience or attention. Really, they should get married. It's just too perfect a union.

[starry-bi-sky]

For the Danyal Al Ghul AU: How would Danyal react to other canon events like when Sam wishes she never met Danny, Tucker wishes for powers, the christmas episode, or other DP canon events?

(Also, I assume Danyal's cover is blown by the reality Gaunlet event.)

Ohooho I love this question. So im only gonna respond to the episodes you mentioned, since it's been a while since i actually watched the show and I don't remember all the episodes. And also since I don't remember them fully, I'm gonna get details wrong. I am fine with that, it still gets the gist down lol. I've got the tvtropes recap page pulled up, so i'll be using that to try and hit the major points it mentions.

So, Memory Blank! Man I've thought about that one, and its the one I'm frankly most excited to answer because it gets to show just how much of a positive impact being friends with Sam and Tucker had on Danyal. So where to start? Their fight goes differently than in canon, but I'm going to start from after Sam makes her wish.

Firstly; she and Tucker are friends, but the two of them are not friends with Danny. He's on his own. In this au, the three of them became friends when they were 11 and Danny's been in Amity Park for about a year.

They met in the beginning with Sam trying to befriend him at first because she realized that they shared similar ideals on environmentalism, but he rebuffed her pretty harshly due to a combination of grief over leaving his home, trying to process the fact that he can never return and will never see his brother again or meet his father, and just plain League arrogance lmao. He really hated being in Amity Park just in general because it wasn't his home and it was the city too.

So he was really rather unapproachable in the beginning. People kept a pretty wide berth of him due to Fenton association and his own vibes.

But Danny's still a kid, and they want socialization with their peers. At 11 he didn't have any friends, and was frankly quite lonely. He decided to approach Sam and Tucker after deeming them "acceptable allies", although Sam wasn't really interested at first up until he did the equivalent of apologizing. Tucker warmed up first afterwards, but Sam really wasn't too far behind.

So thats how they became friends, post-wish though? Lets say that Sam didn't accept the apology and rebuffed Danny, and kinda intimidated Tucker into doing the thing. Danyal closed down, backed off, and then never approached them again because he decided right then and there he wasn't going to chase it. Wasn't worth his effort or time.

Then he just. never approached another person after that because he didn't want to get rebuffed again (he wouldn't admit that it hurt a bit), and he could already tell his efforts wouldn't work. He turned his attention to other stuff. In this timeline it wasn't too difficult to find him at events dedicated to combatting climate change, deforestation, light pollution, animal cruelty, etc. the LOA is an environmentalist group, after all. They just also happen to be eco-fascist assassins-for-hire.

In summary, Sam and Tucker helped Danyal realize the flaws in some of the League's beliefs (the fascism) to the point where he could deconstruct it on his own. Being friends with them made him realize that, frankly, genocide was not the answer to environmental equilibrium, and that the people outside of the League had lives worth living. They also helped quell his arrogance, and just in general influenced him to become kinder even if it doesn't look like that all the time to other people. Sam and Tucker make him laugh, and smile, and just happy.

OG Danyal: wears pretty casual teen clothes. More punky-aesthetic. Has multiple ear piercings. These were self-done. Will have a lip piercing by the time he reunites with Damian, mark my words. Can and will wear muscle tees. Makes puns, jokes, is generally sassy with his friends. Can, will, and has climbed shit he shouldn't be because he enjoys the challenge of scaling a building. It's also very funny seeing Tucker and Sam reenact the "Gregory! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!" meme. Still has a questionable moral compass, but like, he's not an eco-fascist.

This Timeline Danyal: dresses much more sophisticated; dark academia vibe. Closed off, cold. Is 2x more likely to kill someone than OG Danyal, who was frankly, pr kosher with murder already but only if he deemed it extremely necessary. Still an eco-fascist.

Danyal without Sam and Tucker? Still believes in the teachings of the League because he has not been really challenged on them. In fact, he has doubled down on it, actually. Living in the city, growing up estranged and ostracized by his peers, has only strengthened his resolve that all of humanity minus the league (and the Fentons) deserves to be wiped out. He is disgusted by the people around him and desperately wants to go home, even more than the last timeline. The only reason he hasn't is for Damian's sake, but he's been checking in with mother whenever she visits and asking to find a way to come home. She's been steadily wearing down on it; her child is miserable here.

This version of Danyal should not have powers, and is, essentially on the fast track of rejoining the league -- doubly so when he hears Damian is living with father. Clearly it's safe enough for him to be with father, if mother allowed it, and father has become safe enough for Damian to live there. Good. With the threat of two heirs being in the League gone, Danny can return with Mother's permission. And. he probably takes Jazz (and the Fenton parents) with him. Forcibly if he has to.

So Sam has her work cut out for her here, a lot more than in canon, because even when she does tell him that they used to be friends in another timeline, and he believes it, he is not going to give a shit. Clearly they were not as good of friends as she thought they were, if she had wished they never met in the first place. Good riddance, then. This Danny is cold, incredibly hurt, and very closed off.

He is a cave wall in comparison to the Danny Sam knew, and talking to him feels like walking into one. Because he is looking at her with just utter disgust and disdain, keeping a distance like he is revolted by her presence and allergic to her and everyone else's touch.

Which really, really fucking hurts when she knows that in their last timeline, he would actively seek out her and Tucker's company and affection. Sam could read her best friend like an open book, and now its like she's trying to read one in another language she barely speaks. This boy used to smile at her, he used to laugh at Tucker's jokes, and he was so passionate about the things he enjoyed. Now he looks at her like he wants nothing more than for her to drop dead on the spot.

It hurts even more knowing that her last words to her Danny were the words, 'some days i wish we never met'; the way he looked at her afterwards haunts her. For a split second, he looked completely crushed and heartbroken, before his entire body language and expression shut off and he totally closed down on her.

Because by this point in his friendship with her and Tucker, he's told them, he has told them, in a very intimate moment of vulnerability, that they are one of the best things that's happened in his life -- right there alongside the day he first met his baby brother. They are very important to him, and he has finally felt comfortable enough with telling them. There's not a day that goes by that he isn't grateful for their friendship.

So to hear Sam say that some days she wishes they never met? well. That breaks his heart. Just- just a little bit. Sam regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth, and she immediately tries to apologize, but Danny immediately spits back; "Well. I hope you get your wish." and then stalks off.

I'm warring with myself here trying to decide whether or not this new timeline Danyal is at a "point of no return", where nothing Sam says is going to make him attempt to reignite that friendship. Clearly that will end badly anyways, if this is the result of that friendship. He's cut all ties from these people; he feels no prerogative to fix things she broke.

Like, the version of Danyal I'm thinking of here has no close bonds with anyone in the city sans Jazz -- and she? has her own life outside of Danny. She is not his keeper, not his caretaker, and certainly not his therapist. (which i have beef about too, considering how she gets boiled down to 'therapist with no life of her own' but im not going into that.) She has some influence on him, but frankly not enough to really make him challenge his beliefs. Danny cares about her that, if he returns to the league, she is coming with him. Or at the very least, will be spared from the League's goals.

Mmmm. I can't make it a total point of no return though. Sam's very stubborn, and she knows Danny. And while this Danny is still very different, he is still Danny. She'll try and befriend him insistently in a way that might annoy him, but at least not push him away further.

(Tucker, meanwhile, is just soo confused about Sam's very random, very abrupt switch up. Cuz girl he thought you hated this guy? Why are you suddenly trying to get all buddy-buddy with the terrifying Fenton kid. Have you been possessed? Is this some kind of crisis?)

(Sam drags Tucker into befriending Danny because he is the only person she knows that can get him to belly laugh. Tucker is mildly terrified but going along with it.)

Anyways this does end with Sam befriending Danny, or at least getting him to like her long enough that he'll pick up a ghost weapon and face off against Desiree. There's no way in hell he's walking into that portal, that last timeline might have been a 1/billionth chance of it happening and he's not dying for the chance to get powers. And frankly with his training -- which he's probably kept up with even more than the old timeline because he had no one to spend his time with -- he doesn't really need them to be good at fighting them. Just show him how to ghost proof a weapon and he'll handle the rest from there.

But Sam does end up undoing the wish and getting back to her own original timeline in the end. It's the morning after her fight, and the literal first thing she does that morning is get her shoes on and fucking sprriiint to the fenton house. Bursts into tears when she sees Danny and apologizes over and over again. She swears she didn't mean any of it, and to please believe her, and Desiree's still loose and they need to stop her, and she's had the worst time.

She does tell him about the other timeline she just went through, and she hopes that, if it still exists, that that Danyal manages to find friends in the Sam and Tucker there after this. And if not them, then anyone.

Danny's still pretty hurt by what she said, it cut really deep, but he forgives her.

-----

Tucker getting his powers! Frankly things gooo... relatively the same as canon, I think? Actually, no. Danny probably figures out the whole Genie "i wish you would go back into your lamp" thing faster than canon danny since he's not a C student lmao. TV.Tropes doesn't give me too much specifics for a recap on the plot, so we're gonna wing it. For the plot I'm going to say that Tucker gets his powers before Danny figures out the "i wish" thing, which happens relatively quickly.

Danny tries to be... rather supportive of his friend getting powers? Especially since, in comparison to Danny, it was rather painless. However, he's also very suspicious. He doesn't trust the source of Tucker's powers, and warns him to be careful and to let Danny know if he feels off in anyway.

Tucker does end up helping Danny a few times, but the quick progression of his powers and Tucker's willingness to use them more often than not worries him. He reminds him a handful of times that Tucker shouldn't rely on his powers to help -- not even Danny does that. He prefers to use his weapons and martial arts to fight instead. Tucker doesn't listen.

And they end up fighting anyways. Things get resolved, everything turns out okay!

------

Christmas episode straight up just. doesn't happen. Danyal doesn't care enough about the Fenton arguing or about Christmas to be upset about said arguing. He thinks its really childish, but he's not a grinch about all of it.

--------

Okay it wasn't explicitly mentioned but i have thought about TUE. And I'm trying to think how that would go because it's the result of Danny getting his hands on the math answers and cheating. Which Danyal would not do.

And someone mentioned in the comments on my ao3 under the oneshots there that TUE might just straight up not happen. Which makes sense, Danyal is so different from canon that things don't have to always happen like it did in canon. So that's something I need to chew about, cuz if it does happen, then I'm going to figure out a different way for it to.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

When Darkness Falls

Orestes x afab!Monster!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 16: Public Sex

Summary: After Orestes and his men are captured by a strange group, the punishment seems unusual.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for beating and saving me as always! I don't know how my mind turned 'public sex' into this.

Warnings: Monster!Reader (werewolf-y), swearing, p in v sex, injuries, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1850

Orestes winced as the guard pressed against his injured shoulder and forced him to his knees. His wrists were bound behind his back, so tightly that the rope was cutting off the blood supply to his fingers.

“You are accused of trespassing on our lands. From taking fruit from the Hylopius tree.” The man bellowed, he was dressed in dark blue robes finely woven. Seven others, presumably nobles and the jury, stood to his side. 

“My men and I were lost, we took shelter from the storm. We did not know these were your lands,” Orestes tries to keep his tone strong and even, to keep his chin high as he answers. “We-”

“Ignorance is not an excuse.” He snarls. “You pillage, and take. But you are far from your Rome now. Your crimes will not go unpunished.” 

Orestes breathes deeply. “Please, my men, they are innocent in this. I will take the punishment, if you let-”

“You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I am not demanding, I am-” The leader gestures with his hand and Orestes winces in pain as the guard presses against the wound in his temple.

“Your men fought back against our soldiers, they are as guilty as you are. I will cast punishment on you all.” He grins wickedly. “The Lycan’s Pit.” 

The noblemen laugh.

Orestes is dragged to his feet and pulled from the room, “What, what is that? What do you speak of?” 

The guards do not answer as he is taken into a large hall beautifully decorated in fine mosaic. The images of torn bodies and blood, of huge creatures with red eyes shaped like the beasts of childhood nightmares painstakingly crafted. There are rows of seats carved into the walls, the layout reminiscent of a small scale colosseum, able to hold around 50 people.

In the centre of the room was a circle pit that seemed to travel into the depths of the earth itself. 

“They will feast on your flesh.” The leader laughs. 

“Wait-” A loud gong of a bell echoes out, cutting off his words as he is thrown into the middle of the room next to the pit, he grunts, managing to get to his knees as the guards bring out thorned branches layered with silver chains. They arrange them around the outside of the floor, a barrier from the seats and Orestes. 

“What is that?” He asks.

The nobles take seats as the guards stand to attention, more people flood in, all equally dressed in finery and sit.

“The Lycans cannot cross the barrier.” The leader laughs, like he was explaining a basic concept. 

“I wonder who will join us today?” One nobel asks another.

“I hope it is Baral. He is the most vicious. I want to see him tear the roman apart.” 

Orestes swallows thickly, pulling at the ropes. If he could just…

There is a low growl from the pit. A deep and terrible snap of teeth. 

He freezes despite myself when a large clawed hand grabs hold of the side. It‘s huge, the palm alone bigger than his head, some kind of mix between a human and a wolf. 

Slowly the creature pulls itself up and out, snarling with rows of sharp teeth and blood red eyes. 

He wants to scream. But he can’t move, can’t think.

A hush falls on the nobles as the creature appears and stalks around to Orestes. 

He seems to snap back to reality, and struggles to stand, to run, to defend himself, to-

The creature lunges forward and on top of him. 

He closes his eyes, bracing for the sharp stink of ripping claws and teeth. But it doesn’t come. 

He breathes deeply, raggedly, his heart pounding in his temples and slowly opens his eyes.

It’s dark, like he’s in a cave. It takes a moment for him to realise that the cave is fur. The creature seemingly, somehow draped over him to make a small tent like space. 

He sits up a little, his shoulder brushing the fur. It’s soft and warm, moving a little with the creature's breath.

“Hello.” 

He jumps, pushing himself back further against the fur and you giggle. 

“I am sorry to scare you.” 

Orestes blinks heavily, you’re sitting opposite him crouched with a large smile on your face. He can see your canines, larger than a person’s should be, and your eyes deep and red. But beautiful, oh so painfully beautiful.

You give him a little wave and he nods his head. 

“They tied you?” Your voice is sweet and gentle.

He nods again. 

You tut and carefully edge forward. 

He swallows, sucking in a breath in spite of himself, you move like running water, swift and mesmerising, your body completely naked. 

You watch him as you move, careful for any signs of distress like he was an injured rabbit in a trap. 

You reach back and cut the ropes with your sharp nails that retract a little when you are finished. 

“There you go.” “Thank you.” He mutters, staring bewitched as you move back a fraction but remain close. “There is a creature, a…”

You smile. He knows it’s you.

“Where are we?” He swallows, rubbing life back into his fingers. 

“We are not where you were.” 

“Am I dead?” 

You shake your head. “We will have to return there, shortly. Here is just to talk for a moment.” You touch his temple, the gooey blood on his skin. 

He flinches but doesn’t pull away when he realises your touch is gentle. 

“Are you going to kill me?” He breathes, watching you intently. His heart is still beating fast, his muscles tingling with adrenaline. But he doesn’t want to run or fight, he wants… he wants to…

“No.” You smile, taking your fingers to your lips and licking off his blood. 

“Why?” He asks without thinking. 

You laugh lightly. “You smell… nice.”

“Nice?” His mouth twitches upwards, surprised. 

You nod, leaning a little forward. “You don’t smell like food.” You whisper.

Orestes swallows. He can’t help himself, can’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours in a rush. 

You lick into his mouth and he tastes his own blood on your tongue. He groans, lightheaded and needy as he presses himself closer.

He whines when you pull back a fraction, smiling. “You smell like a mate.” 

Orestes nods desperately. “Please.”

“Do you accept me?” 

He nods rapidly, pushing himself closer to you again. His cock aches between his legs, pressing against his clothing and begging to be freed. 

“In any form?” 

“In any form.” He mutters. “Please.” 

You grin. 

In a blink of his eyes, he is back in the mosaic hall, flat on his back. The nobles watching as the creature, you, lean over him, your teeth so close to snapping into the flesh of his neck. 

He turns his head, touches your soft fur with his free hands. “Please.” 

You let out a soft growl, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

There’s some quiet murmuring from the crowd, anticipation as they think he’s about to get eaten alive.

With one clawed hand, you lightly dip under his clothing, ripping it in two clean down the middle. 

Orestes gasps, biting his lip as you bow your head down and lick a broad flat stripe with your thick tongue. You start between his legs, rising up his body until you flick just under his jaw. 

He groans, his eyes rolling back as he squirms under you, your strong form keeping him pressed down and at your mercy. 

There are a few confused whispers, surprised at how he seems to be enjoying himself. 

His cock is already painfully hard, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. You nuzzle at his neck, your breath hot on his skin as you lay yourself fully over him, moving your legs and taking his length inside yourself. 

Orestes gasps, moaning loudly as he sinks inside. He claws at your fur, trying to pull you closer as he shakes. It feels so good, liquid pleasure running up his spine as he fills you that practically paralyses him in place. 

His cry of passion is almost indistinguishable from one of pain, and at first, the crowd thinks he has been split open. 

You growl and he shivers as you rock your hips. It’s like you’re everywhere, touching him with claws and teeth and nails and hands. He can feel your lips on his thighs and stomach, fur and skin on his chest, both forms seemingly at once as you increase your pace. 

It’s electric, addicting as you devour him; mind, and body, and soul. 

“Yes, yes, please, yes,” he moans, uncaring of the many eyes watching him hurtling rapidly to his release. Your heat squeezes him, caresses him, lets him sink deeper into mind numbing pleasure. 

“Please,” he sobs, he wants to call your name but he realises, painfully, that he hadn’t asked for it, instead he pulls at your fur, at your shoulders, at any part of you he can reach. 

You snap your teeth and it sounds like a chuckle before you lick along his neck and drag your canines along his skin. 

“My heart,” he whispers, his voice strained, “I’m, I’m close.” He doesn’t want this to stop, to ever end. But he can feel his body racing towards his climax like an unbridled horse. His hips buck, his balls tightened. 

You rock faster, you slick running down and coating his skin as your warmth begs for his release. In this form, you need his pleasure desperately. Can only have your own as he experiences his. 

He whines, crying out beautifully as his back arches. He comes loudly, shivering and sobbing as he empties into you, giving you every single part of himself. 

Pleasure rushes along your veins, embeds in your bones and you howl, long and hard as you come with him. 

You lick into his mouth, cradling him as he nuzzles against you. 

“Foolish beast!” The leader yells, shouting for the guards. 

One hurls a spear at you that clatters off your form as if it was a rain drop. But Orestes flinches.

And you snarl. 

You turn quickly, jumping from him and barreling through the barrier that does absolutely nothing to stop you. You rip the guards and nobles to pieces in a matter of seconds, moving faster than they can fathom as they scream in terror. How dare they threaten him, your mate. 

You blink, the rage dulling.

Slowly, you turn back to Orestes, worried for a second about your outburst until you see his soft eyes as he reaches out for you. You move back to him, nuzzling your face into his palm. 

He kisses your nose, your cheek, licking some of the sprayed blood from your fur as you embrace him, laying him back down under you protectively. 

“I did not ask for your name, my love.” He whispers softly and smiles when you mutter it against his ear. He repeats it slowly with undying affection. 

Thank you for reading!

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[gazeofseer]

Direction of light to the browns of your life (;

Browns, what grounds you and what burns

You, deeply underneath too.

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Pick a Image

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Image.1

Fatalist is term used for the one who confuses the go with the flow to become prone to act or intent and choosing not to play which will keep them under the fate, is a state of your fear, dear.

Instances of yours : You so badly wanted to take a decision about something quite recently but you step back and waited for the fate to decide for you, but you got more confused now that a week has passed because your fear covers non existential ideologies to appease your mind's guess.

You are a damsel but not in distress but in the capture of your mind's vivid imaginary and illusions that seems like a vision but is not, remember this is the world of manifestation whatever comes here is a by product of your state of being not of your state of reactions and idealism, it is birth out of your actual reality.

So there is a lot of confusions now, to clear which you need to seek your intentions do you really intent towards what your presume to be your purpose? Question that bloody dream does it dares to manifest when you will fail or will it vanish like a delusion you just had to gauge your mind off the bait?

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Image.2

Overthinking is not a disease it is a power of your discipline that flow of thoughts you find a way out of your head quite smart right? Quite logical and prideful to feel right as always, but where do you hide those wrongs, those mistakes, that makes you feel like sinner to do so? You don't strive for perfection, you actually like one, great pretentious can be a great tool unless it becomes wavering, unsettling and making high while feeling the lowest in this moment right?

So much of right, I hear a feminine voice with chuckles shows how confident you are about everything you have, and the way you identify yourself with things, but when you endear it as an experience it's annoying, you start nitpicking, for your thoughts it found a flow in your mouth that you keep bickering, playing to some extent, what leaves bitter in this after all? Is the distance you feel within your authenticity and a convincing truth you lied around about.

You are not sad, not in pain, not in guilt or even regret you are disappointed in yourself, for the way you feel, for the way your head takes over all your heart like a devouring death you smile upon.

You need to really, really stop giving value attention, to your thoughts it's mere exertion of your senses let that go liar are those who say you become what you think, you become what you believe in, you become what you feel like is the mere intuition's guide.

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Image.3

Shed many scales left my scars, even broken the light from the star I held so tightly underneath the sight of wars I had, battles I am fed with, all I could ever be is tired even with the best of the person, I had to feel sorrow and pitful, like an aftermath I stayed in people but with a different story to state of torns, I don't know anything, but I always told about everything, I lend hands and ears, and get rewarded with swords and screams.

Warrior, My champion how does it feel to be your very own thing? Great right then what is the guilt lying in there? There is a cobweb of perception you have crawled your mind through break that, your giving too much importance to the words of others getting absorbed in take your time alone and chose silence sometimes words must fail you so you can see what people mean was truly never about you but the way they feel, they want, they need about you. Do not get into the play of says and opinions they are void. Anyways you have strong instincts and intuition you either way don't need that.

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[vladdyissues]

hey speaking of giving them good things out of pure seething spite

assorted badger cereal AND cheese melt fluff?

-reveal gone wrong. Fentons are supportive, but reveal happened in front of GiW, which means government agents now have his identity linked to a ghost caught on camera causing mayhem and destruction. don't matter how ultimately ineffectual OR competent you make them, Danny Fenton's in deep shit now.

-but hey, Vlad's got himself some connections! Danny Fenton disappears. Daniel Masters appears. Big bro to Danielle Masters, yes he's always existed, of course he's not Danny Fenton, Phantom is still appearing in Amity Park, there'd have to be a portal in Wisconsin to pull that off.

-Danny expects to feel isolated. Instead? Gets to have extended ghost family like his new gremlin little sister, gets to have a home schooling experience that means he isn't pressured to keep a schedule broken by ghost attacks, gets to visit through the FentonWorks lab regularly.

-And Vlad seems to have chilled the entire fuck out with two half-ghost kids to Obsess over parenting.

-although if he's going to live in this house Danny is damn well going to learn to make his own ghost-tech and learn the value of an honest day's mad science.

-(Vlad didn't bust his ass learning to solder at a professional level for a field of technology so experimental no one credible believes it exists just so Danny could get desparate and use tech as a projectile)

-and it's really nice having lab safety respected so the food doesn't reanimate.

-and he can just use his powers whenever, however.

-huh. with homeschooling getting easier all the time, maybe he could take up a sport? you don't need to attend a school full time to do that, right...?

-best revenge is living well. Or in this case, enabling such for a kid who just says the saddest things about his home life without realizing

-seriously it makes Vlad go "mine nao" on a deep, irrevocable scale.

-also fucking no one believes Daniel Masters is Danny Fenton because they've a: met his little sister, and b: seen them interact. you're saying these two didn't have the same parents and grow up around each other? (And the fun thing is: technically, Dani being a clone means BOTH of those are true!)

-something something "what do you mean I qualify for scholarships?!" + realization he's actually smart he was just being forced to triple shift his life and it was the worst thing he could have possibly done

I am the biggest sucker for Danny unexpectedly thriving under Vlad's care due to having all of the opportunities and special attention that come with being filthy stinking rich. (That's basically what I'm doing in Familiar.) But having a place where he finally feels comfortable being himself and having people he can relate to? Priceless.

his new gremlin little sister

Can you imagine how awesome Danny is going to feel when it finally clicks that he's not the youngest child anymore? That he's a "big brother"? I think he'd be over the moon. (Mostly. I've heard stories of little sisters.)

an honest day's mad science

ALSKDJHFLAKJSHDFLAKJSDHF Vlad inadvertently switching on Danny's dormant mad scientist gene by demonstrating how to Science Correctly while observing proper safety protocol and making it look really fun and cool—something his parents always wanted but never managed to do—is delicious. Two helpings, please. Heap it on 🍽

[wellofdean]

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.