#i do not say that lightly

[smittyw]

dailies 3.16.24

lalala ooouh (still testing the waters w this style but i think its working out)

[kisses4kaia]

i will kiss u juliet

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars and Time!

[bishy437]

he won

bonus:

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023

day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4

[v2aattemptsart]

I adore AUs where they meet as kids 🙏

I feel like Jayce would give the best piggyback rides!! 🫶

(Pls ignore the terribly drawn background, they're not my strongsuit lol)

[musette22]

I just can NOT get over the whole Sebastian wanting to do a play with Chris thing, you guys. I know it's just a hypothetical at this point, but even just the concept is just so incredible? Like, Sebastian wasn't even prompted into bringing up Chris, he just did, like he'd just been waiting for an opportunity to do so. And then he says he wants to do a Broadway play with Chris? Even implies he's talked to him about it, that he brought up the idea with him repeatedly and is just waiting for Chris to agree to do this with him? Like, it might actually happen?

And what I maybe love most is that this means Sebastian has given this a LOT of thought. He's been going about his life, doing his busy important movie star thing, and meanwhile he's been thinking about Chris, and about how much he wants to work with him again, and how he wants to do this specific play with him that he loves, because he thinks they'd be great in it together. But at the same time, he admits that he'd basically do any play with Chris, as long as they get to work together again. He could've said he wanted to work with anybody, any of his former co-stars, all those people we know he's still friendly with because anyone who works with Sebastian falls a little bit platonically in love with him and vice versa, but no, he specifically says Chris Evans. Out of everyone he's worked with, he wants to work with Chris again for this, he's trying to get him, they're doing this, goddammit.

And another amazing implication of all this, imo: even though Sebastian's been very vocal about rejecting the idea that some people have that they get to tell him what to do and influence his life somehow just because he's famous (about which is absolutely right, by the way) -- he just kind kind of seems to forget all about that in the moment he decides to call on people's help to convince Chris to say yes to his idea. As though achieving that particular goal is more important than all of that other stuff lmao.

And listen, I know he's just messing around, and deep down he knows full well that we don't have any means to contact Chris anyway, and Chris is very good at protecting his peace these days so he's not going to be seriously bothered by anyone about this, but still, the fact is that Sebastian literally told us all to bother Chris, text him, DM him, make posters and send them to him, anything to get through to him and make him see the light. Like, Sebastian wants this bad. AND he knows that there are lots of people out there who would love to see him and Chris reuniting, on stage this time, and he's cunningly using that fact to get what he wants. It's kind of incredible. I just can't get over it, guys.

[lionbearfox]

neuvillette will be like "im so alone ... nobody understands me or enjoys my presence.. im an outcast" and then u talk to literally any resident of fontaine and theyre like "oh my god yeah neuvillette thats our Guy thats our Super Special Guy we love him so much isn't he great"

[beneathsilverstars]

what if mira's parents were like... "oh our precious darling baby, please never grow up!" sort of parents.... not cruel, but stifling. deciding what she'll do, and then doing it for her. not letting her learn and try and fail and grow into her own, independent self.

of course she would love the religion of change! of course she would believe so passionately in the importance of discovering and reinventing yourself. of course she would have been missing basic life skills when she first came to the house, and enamored with whoever patiently taught them to her. of course she would take every class available, try everything she was denied.

and of course it would feel awful, when she kept failing. she started out at a deficit and has felt two steps behind ever since. and every time she tries a new skill and makes a mistake, she hears her parents say, just let us do it for you. and every time she compares her same-old self to the unique and talented people around her, she wonders if maybe her parents were right about her. maybe she wasn't meant to have her own interests, to make her own choices. maybe she can't learn. maybe she can't grow. maybe she'll be a useless child forever.

it's hard to decide how she feels about her parents. they never hurt her, so why does she feel so hurt when she thinks about them? they loved her, so why doesn't she love them?

and it's hard to admit the faults of the change belief. it saved her from stagnation! and yet, here she is. smothered again. expected not to stay the same, but to become someone else.

why can't she just be who she is?

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

[some-pers0n]

Nothing is as spooky as feeling one of them shrimp emotions. Y'know the type. The ones where you can't quite categorize them and feel like it's on another plane of Feeling

[xemylixa]

I've only rewatched that scene from With Fire and Sword three thousand times

[truthsinwhispers]

You guys know that the news about Neil Gaiman isn't a trans advocacy issue, right? Like... you know this is about sexual assault? Hopping on your high horse to discredit these accusations as "right-wing gotcha"s is a HUGE stretch you shouldn't even be thinking of making. What the fuck is wrong with you?

TERFs eat shit and die challenge. This post is not for you. I love my beautiful trans sisters and hope you are all safe and well 🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

[me-beef]

A collection of Fell art I don't think I've ever posted before. This is all art I've made in the last year, those first pics being done in January/February-ish? It's been fun to see how much my art has developed since then :)

So, something I'm sure I've mentioned before, I have RSD- or rejection sensitive dysphoria. For the last decade or so, it's controlled a large portion of my life and has dictated a lot of what I've been able to do. It used to be a lot worse- like, eating-lunch-alone-in-the-bathroom-everyday-at-school-because-I'd-have-a-panic-attack-if-I-tried-to-go-into-the-cafeteria type of bad. Or, having-a-panic-attack-because-a-girl-complimented-my-socks-and-I-was-CERTAIN-she-was-actually-implying-I-was-a-stupid-idiot-loser-baby type of bad. It's made it really hard to make friends and maintain relationships, because a part of my brain truly believes the people around me don't want me there, or that it's better for me to be quiet and out of the way than to risk doing something "wrong" and drawing the ire of everyone around me.

It was something that I was really ashamed of for the longest time. I didn't understand what I was feeling or why I acted the way that I did, I just wanted everyone around me to be happy and I felt like I was doing everything wrong and making everything worse just by being present in any given situation.

So- what ended up working for me? How did I start moving forward?

Years of counseling and therapy? Yeah. Medication? That too.

But do you want to know what really ended up changing my life this year?

I made a character to conceptualize and encapsulate all of my anxieties and traumas, took my condition, and made it her superpower.

Some bits about her character:

In a ⋆˙⟡dramatic⋆˙⟡ and ⋆˙⟡tragic⋆˙⟡ childhood event, Fell's heart was fused with a star.

It sounds like a magical-girl dream- but for Fell, it's only ever been a curse.

Whenever her emotions flare, she has an uncontrollable surge of magic. Sometimes, that wild magic can scare or even hurt the people around her. She's become terrified of her own emotions- and that fear only exacerbate her "curse".

So, she isolates herself- not out of a fear of others, but out of a fear of hurting those around her.

When I was a kid, there weren't really any characters out there that I felt like I could truly identify with. Sure, I've seen social anxiety addressed in media throughout my life, but nothing that I felt really captured the full complexities of what I was experiencing in my day-to-day. Plus, I feel like those characters rarely got to be the heroes of the story.

So, all that to say, Fell is the hero that I wish I had gotten to have as a kid.

Starlight Saga (working title), or Legends of ZahKol, is the story and world that I built around the lessons I've learned in my journey of overcoming my anxiety and RSD. I can't give that to my past self, but my dream is to one day share it with the world- for other people out there like me, to help them and give them hope and let them know how strong they really are for fighting day in and day out. That these parts of yourself don't mean you're broken or damaged or wrong- these are tied to the most resilient, most beautiful parts of who you are.

[thatbuddie]

this is absolutely insane to me. never in a million years would i have ever thought a fic of mine could get 3k (three thousand!!!) kudos. thank you to everyone who has shown love to my writing in this fandom. you’ve made me the happiest girl in the whole world <333

[this is the fic in question: (or, Buck and Eddie keep getting matching tattoos, and then discover that maybe everyone is right when they think it means something more.)]

[mxtxfanatic]

Just casually thought of Shi Mei and am reminded about how much of a disgusting waste of a living being he is. Wow.