#supernatural... It's being an experience.

[sheeezu]

Return: everything I know about shifting.

(A century in tartarus, what did you learn?)

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The consciousness never tires, never retires, never resists.

An easy to understand analogy would be... consider your consciousness being the sky, or it being the ground. Just like how weather brings change to the sky, clouds glide across. Just like how wildlife populates the ground, that's how realities leave their mark on your consciousness. It is temporary. It can be wiped out in an instant.

You have control over consciousness and the consciousness has control over you.

Your consciousness is a wide ocean which parts into rivers, each river symbolises a new reality. You as a 3D component floats down the river you choose in your 4D.

When you question reality (the one you're in) it casts a fog making the path to your consciousness hazy.

This fog is in the form of doubts, intrusive thoughts, emotions (especially stress and fears, the ones that speak to you in a way "I don't have enough time to shift", "I can still feel my current reality" , "I can never shift.")

Of course. The fog is useless. Considering you don't succumb to the fog.

Sure, your body will speak, bark, bluff, tease you. The solution is to acknowledge what it's saying. Not in a way you accept that these complaints and worries are your own, but that they're just part of a vessel in a reality you have left and nothing to do with. It doesn't matter if the fog takes some time to dissipate.

Your consciousness settled in your dr once you had accepted it. There were no roundabouts, there were no mind tricks, there was no numbing your senses or counting your symptoms, you are there, because you trust your consciousness and don't listen to a chunk of flesh specific to one reality.

"Too good to be true", belief. The one that lingers but never comes to your attention.

Aka the cause of all of your "failed" attempts. You don't fail because you don't try. You don't fail because you don't affirm properly, you don't fail because you messed up somewhere in your routine or fell asleep too quickly, you failed because.... you didn't allow yourself to shift.

Even if you're confident. You're confident that you will "shift." I'm not one to pick on mere words, but there is a huge looming feeling associated with a shifting attempt. You are trying to shift.

If we imagine shifting to be a bridge between us and our drs, than it is the first thing you should burn down.

There is no mid stage. There isn't a speech you have to give to receive a medal.

It is an action. You being in your dr, is embracing the normalcy of it all. Its not a supernatural experience of "when will the stars align" and you'll cry in the arms of your s/o.

A new reality is a new state of mind, in simple words.

The delay.

Question: is there a delay to you manifesting your dr, whilst shifting?

NO. the only reason it exists is because you have a second of pure plato level pondering (isn't that quite the alliteration) if you are experiencing a delay. Realities are like toys you play around with. And to bring attention to any delay is like pulling the threads of a reality you have left, you're giving it more attention under your spotlight, the last lingering bit of your energy gives it the spark to reiterate itself in the form of a "delay".

Of course, this doesn't mean anything and won't ruin your shift. But for the love of me almost deactivating this blog yesterday, do not waste too much time wondering why "you don't have it", you have it, look at it instead of a sparkly loophole that's blocking the lens of your consciousness.

The extend of romatisization.

We all love our drs. We yearn it while we are here. Nothing is wrong with it and keep doing so. But don't bring tragic separation along while you are laying down to shift. You wrote a lovely story of reunion here, which I do not blame you for, fiction is enchanting, but that doesn't make it real. You are in your dr right now. Don't contradict yourself and your consciousness.

Become or meet God.

You connect with absolute power while you shift. It's up to your beliefs to decide who possesses it. When you shift, shed the skin of a human, and watch everything fall into place when you realise how much you had truly limited yourself. In order to do this, you stop telling yourself how you felt your bedsheets change, how you saw flashing lights in excitement. God created the universe with a phrase, "Kun faya kun", which means "be, and it is." It is up to you, what you take away from this.

Consciousness > God > (desired) Reality

Melt, Mold, Rise -> a method.

Melting is the point of derealization of the previous reality, molding is aligning with your dr self, rising is continuing from the mind space of your dr.

How can you apply this?

Melt - stop your current reality's stream of thoughts, tell yourself you've left it, intent/decide to be in your dr.

Mold - slight imagery or knowing of dr surroundings, slightly take ahold of your dr body (imagining the position of your body) and lastly and most importantly thinking thoughts of your dr self.

Rise - know you're in your dr. Be there. (Continue the previous step, but do not force it)

Waking up from a dream.

Getting to your dr, without a structured method or a plan, just pure belief in yourself is much like waking from a dream.

You feel, hear and sense many stimulus in your dream which have no bases in reality. Similarly, while your assumptions are strong, you might sense the reality you have boldly stated you have left.

The distinction is, you don't expect to get stuck in a dream or never wake up. It is decided that no matter what the dream might tell, the final destination and fixed spawn is back in reality, it is always decided you'll wake up from a dream.

Exactly like that (and to conclude our analogy #2) it is decided firmly that you will wake up in your dr, no matter how potent the call of your previous reality is, we can confidently say it doesn't exist and it is illusive like a dream.

"Why can't I do it?"

You can't. Your human self literally cannot. But your consciousness can and will so sit down and be there.

(You have been fooled on multiple occasions by your darned human brain, so let's all promise we won't listen to it any longer after this post.)

Entertaining illusion, the trap of it

The biggest goddamm lie we have all been told is life. You're not part of a system and the matrix does not need escaping. Its like you think you're driving on a road but in fact the road doesn't exist, you don't exist, the car doesn't exist and in actuality you're floating in an empty void. That's too existential for this post but how does it relate to shifting?

You got fooled by reality again. You put on it's harness and do it's work like a mule. Circumstances are not your problem and you're a separate entity from the troubled college student you left behind.

So don't be a mule and don't put a million alarms on to do WBTB in a surrender to your "what ifs" which is a pollutant you keep breathing into. You have wings, fly above the smoke.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

My beliefs have changed, ...for the better.

Jesus is back.

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[okavara]

Things I have done for CotV, in no particular order:

Read the entire Wikipedia page for Radomes all for a single mention of them in chapter 5

Handled raw venison in meal prep and sniffed it (smelled like blood and berries)

tasted soap to see what the hype is about (Dr.Kel what the fuck. I could feel it dissolving my mouth)

Reasearched antlers. Antlers. So much fucking antler knowledge

Antler growth cycles, antler shedding cycles, the appropriate times of the year for when Kelryptid's antlers would complete growing (he is late in the season, it would be early fall but he's a late fall baby because he's a supernatural baby) and when they will fall off (late winter)

Studied every minute I had acrylic nails on to understand the ergonomics of having lengthened claws/nails (it's not as hard to adjust to as I thought)

Figured out how to make predator clicks with a human voice

Did two full playthroughs of VotV, getting myself into Dr.Kel's headspace

One of which I wrote down his thoughts every day, cataloguing the events and encounters I had in my own personalized playthrough, thus crafting his backstory for CotV in days 1-43 (WHICH I WILL WRITE A PREQUEL ABOUT)

Researched arirals. So much

scrawled over every scrap of info we have about ASO, Dunkeltaler, Dr.Kel, and made a mind library of it

Asked for advice from two people from Ireland to ask them about how to make references to Kel being Irish in good taste, figure out a county of origin for him, and get a better understanding of what his speech mannerisms/accent might be like (and also to make sure I don't write him too American lol) (Results from this btw: Headcanon he grew up in Cavan and moved to Dublin for University, and spent a lot of time online, making his accent a mix of Cavan, Dublin, and a sprinkle of American from the internet)

Listened to/watched several Irish youtubers from various counties to get a good mental image in my mind of general speech mannerisms/cadence for how Dr.Kel should talk

studied the spines of cats and their tails and how they move them to communicate emotion

Given myself lotsa caffeine to experience how shaky Kel would have been (very)

made an entire backstory for the ariral side characters that show up

Made up an entire idea of what's going on with ASO in the background (no spoilers yet)

Decorated an entire VotV base exactly how I imagine Kelryptid to have decorated his house, and then some

Hosted Q&A in character just so I can write him better and practice writing his character

And much, much more! Specifically these are things I have just done for the sake of studying CotV, however I also draw a lot from my life experience writing CotV. Spooky woods encounters and growing up rural helps give me a great idea of what running through the forest is like- I used to do it daily, growing up.

Fanfic writers, I wanna hear your stories about how you do your research for your fics.

I just took an entire physics course solely for this one fic I'm writing that only mentions physics in one paragraph.

[holloweiss]

this being small town horror is perfect bc being a gay person in a small town is already a horrific experience, at least let one of the gays traumatize everyone back with their supernatural forces

[theatre-mqn]

hii

if you have more ideas for the separated au, no pressure, but i'd love it if you shared

i've been going to bed thinking about it like a bedtime story for the last couple of days

<3

Ask and ye shall receive :D

(Tumblr compression ruined the image so you’ll have to click on it to see it in its full glory)

Have some Separated AU Zoey and Rumi fun facts!

Zoey works at a convenience store near her university. She moved out from her parents’ place not long ago — they wouldn’t stop fighting, and she didn’t want to keep being forced to pick a side, so she ended up moving out on her own instead.

Rumi loves listening to Zoey talk. They have a natural bond thanks to the honmoon, and although neither of them know the other is a hunter, they feel naturally drawn to each other.

Zoey once kidnapped Rumi and forced her to try every single flavour of Ramyeon in the store to try and find her favourite once Rumi offhandedly mentioned she’d never had ramyeon before.

Zoey has also had to physically restrain Rumi from biting a customer that swore at her once because the latter was raised by demons and automatically responds to any perceived “threat” to the people she cares about with violence

Rumi once broke into Zoey’s dorm to bring her a bowl of soup because she was sick

That breaking and entry lead to four hours of Zoey showing Rumi documentaries about turtles and forcing her to listen to all of Mira’s songs on loop

Rumi, watching the honmoon shimmer every time Zoey plays a new song: nervous laughter oh Gwi-ma’s going to kill me

Speaking of, Zoey is. Surprisingly chill about finding out Rumi’s a demon. She was never trained by Celine and reads/watches twilight and supernatural RELIGIOUSLY, so when Rumi admits to her that she’s a demon, fully expecting Zoey to turn on her and hate her, Zoey’s entire reaction is just “oh cool :D tell me more”

“What’s the PSI of your bite force?” “My— what???”

She has a 70 page google doc written about demon physiology now and keeps trying to rope Rumi into weird experiments

She also keeps trying to give Rumi headpats now, much to her chagrin as if she isn’t incredibly touch starved and very happy about this development

Zoomed in sections of the above art:

+ some scrapped mask designs from my first separated AU post

Anyways PLEASE let me know y’all’s thoughts about this au lol, I’m trying to expand on it and make it into a proper fic and I would love to know what you folks think

[ven0moir]

hey how do u feel abt noah saying that people should not get their hopes up for season 5 of stranger things? he didn’t specifically say anything abt it being byler related but idk - a lot of fans think of byler when they think of will and so im worried he was trying to like subtlety tell byler shippers to not get their hopes up

hi anon!

IF he was referring to bylers in that sentence, then this is what I'd assume; I think he was speaking generally. the most beloved byler theories ( flickergate, loverslake, wallgate, heroesgate, ud kiss, etc ) do not fit with the tone of the show, so they're very beloved, but noah himself once said that the fans are very creative ... yet wrong about everything.

that's why I do not even attempt to make "theories" about how Byler's kiss will happen or entertain that idea, its just wasted creativity bc they don't WANT you to know. Prediction theories will likely be wrong unless the Duffers WANT you piecing things together ( like how they said that they left enough clues IN VOLUME 2 for someone to piece together why the UD is frozen the day Will went missing. They wouldn't have said that IMO if they didn't want to encourage fans to figure it out. Otherwise it's sort of wasting your fan's time for no good reason ..? )

IF byler's endgame, chances are some of their storyline ( and Will's arc ) won't be satisfying to some of them ( *cough cough* I think you might know exactly what I'm talking about ) bc from everything they've said so far they ARE departing from this 'hopeless, martyr Will who suffers in silence and waits for Mike' vision that the fandom expects for him when it comes to his feelings for Mike. ( I have a friend who believes the 'choice' is mike's and mike's alone and Will is important but in his love life, he gets 0 say like let's be so fr here for a second. One thing I think Milevens are right about, that Bylers refuse to accept is that Will let go of his idea of being with Mike romantically in that van, and any hope he had left after that faded when Mike gave that speech to El and essentially locked them in as endgame in HIS eyes lmao )

and I personally would rather not have byler endgame than them literally removing the power of CHOICE from the character named Will ( power of CHOICE/Free Will/Will power ) in the season that is his coming of age and that has centered his sexuality and feelings for Mike so much.

That sounds like a genuine snooze fest

like GIVE ME THE SUPERNATURAL AS A REFLECTION OF HOW THEY START OFF S5. GIVE ME FULL ON QUEER HORROR

BUT I'LL BE RIDING THAT WAVE BABY I JUST KNOW I WILL PERSONALLY LOVE IT AND BE CHEERING WILL AND THE DUFFERS ON FOR THAT

I'm pretty sure some of this expectation of 'martyr Will' comes from some confusion over S4 El's arc being projected onto him, ( and that's totally fine! honestly I'm still understanding stuff myself but damn some people around here need to rewatch the show and set aside their fanon version of Byler for a second ) but that's why the most common version of Byler endgame that Byler fans are expecting/hoping for ( and the GA doesn't buy, mind you ) is basically a rewritten version of S4 Mileven.

"Leave the station, Nina. Don't keep waiting for a lover that won't return."

She also resisted Henry's influence and tried to reach him despite everything he's done--much like how she reached Billy in S3. She's been coded as an angel, a Jesus figure, El literally means God, etc. SHE'S MY DAUGHTER I LOVE HER SM I'm scared for her ending the most omfg

I have the awful feeling she'll experience a metaphorical death ( like, staying in the UD and transforming it as the gatekeeper I SO HOPE IM WRONG PLEASE I HOPE THIS IS DUE TO MY LACK OF UNDERSTANDING STILL and not bc they will really do that to her hhh )

Will? imo Will's being set up to go batshit unhinged and reckless and careless and fucking up as he figures himself out and tbh so far, everything they've said falls in line nicely with what I was HOPING for.

thank GOODNESS

And whereas I do not believe for ONE second the Duffers are perfect ( thank god, perfection is so boring and artificial ) I AM choosing to trust they're choosing to be brave and genuinely love their show. The fact people on both sides will be pissed/triggered due to some of their writing choices I think will just be an unfortunate consequence. Sometimes we forget these guys are not rocket scientists and at the end of the day, they're DnD nerds who love their play. If you're not having fun analyzing, chances are you're not approaching it the right way since both DnD and the show are about community and connection. It's inherently what makes them both fun.

I already went through my "acceptance arc" where I internalized that I do not write this show and have 0 say in its outcome. I definitely recommend others do the same and be prepared for whatever happens bc we've put a lot of emotional investment into the show, and that's okay, we're in this together, but we gotta make sure we're prioritizing our mental well-being and I do worry about some Bylers in the tag that I do not think ... should be watching this show ... ( especially after the reactions I saw during that Bychance / Byler "Civil War" .... yikes )

but yeah let me know if any of this makes sense / share your thoughts!!! they'd be cool to know <3

[lesbicosmos-writes]

day 1 of @painlandweek

this has come around so fast omgggg

day 1 prompt: fake relationship

summary: when niko and crystal come back from a night out at a gay club, edwin asks if he can join them next time. while there, he gets hit on by a man who can't seem to get the hint that he has no interest. charles does the obvious thing, and pretends to be edwin's boyfriend to get him to back off. it causes zero feelings whatsoever.

notes: i haven't managed to write for every day this year which i'm pretty sad about, but i had exams recently and i'm also quite busy this week, i'm meeting my long distance girlfriend for the first time!! so i may not have written as much gay, but i will be being very gay, so i think that makes up for it LMAO

also on ao3!!

fake it 'til you make it...or something like that

“Those two had better get here on time, this case is rather urgent!” Edwin says impatiently, glancing at the clock; it’s nearly 10am.

“They’ll be here don’t worry,” Charles assures.

He’s sitting on the floor, polishing his new cricket bat with a magic varnish that would hopefully prevent any future breakages like what happened in Esther’s basement.

At that moment, as if they had heard them talking, the front door opens and Niko enters, all but dragging Crystal behind her.

“Morning, guys!” Niko says cheerily.

“Morning,” Crystal mumbles in response, immediately heading for the tiny sofa and flopping down on it.

They’d been out the night prior with a few friends they’d made on a recent case. Crystal turned 18 a couple of weeks ago, and it had been a few months since Niko’s birthday, so they joined them on a night out at a supernatural gay club in Soho. Going by how she looks this morning, Charles and Edwin suppose Crystal had a little more to drink than Niko did.

“You two had fun last night then?” Charles smiles, repacking the bat in his backpack.

“Yes! It was so good!” Niko enthuses.

She begins rambling about their experiences at the club, particularly animated about the music and the dancing. Crystal nods along silently from where she’s slouched on the sofa.

Edwin listens intently to Niko’s retelling and once she’s finished, he opens his mouth to reply.

“That sounds wonderful, Niko. Would…would I possibly be able to come with you next time?” he asks, his hands fidgeting a little on the desk in front of him.

Crystal sits up slightly at that.

“Are you sure it’d be your thing?” she asks, her voice slightly gravelly.

“Well, I suppose I’ll never know unless I try.”

Niko flashes him a huge grin. She’s been trying to get him to try new things more often for months since she returned from the place she got stuck in after her ‘death’ and is overjoyed that he seems to be considering this.

“If it’s the queer aspect of it you’re interested in, there is a lot more to queer culture than clubbing. I didn’t expect it to be your thing,” Crystal says.

“I’d like to try,” Edwin replies, determined.

“Okay well, Jamie, Sammie and Liv are planning on going again next Friday so I’ll tell them we’ll have two more tagging along.”

Crystal pulls her phone out of the pocket of her shorts and texts them.

“Hold on, two more?” Edwin asks.

“Well, I’m presuming since we’re all going Charles is too,” Crystal replies, not looking up from her screen.

“Charles?” Edwin turns to him.

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun!”

“That’s settled then. Texting Jamie now.”

“Good, then let’s focus, shall we? We have a case to crack,” Edwin says, indicating to the stack of books sitting on the edge of the desk.

The Case of the Meddlesome Mask was complete within a few days, and the agency’s case board remained empty for the rest of the week, which gave the four of them time to plan the most important part of their night out – outfits.

When Friday came around, they split into pairs to get ready – Niko at the office with Edwin, and Crystal at her and Niko’s flat with Charles.

“Are you certain this outfit is necessary, Niko? What’s wrong with my usual clothing?”

“You look like a schoolboy! Not a cool club look.”

“Right.”

“And the outfit I picked out for you isn’t too different, don’t worry. I’m not putting you in a crop top and fishnets.”

Edwin feels himself blush at simply the concept.

“That is something, I suppose.”

Niko is already ready for the night, her outfit brightly coloured as usual, just a lot more sparkly: a yellow halter dress with a matching headband, a pink tote bag and bold pink and yellow glittery eyeshadow. She looks beautiful and eccentric, as always.

Niko reaches into her bag and takes out a shirt and a pair of trousers, both much duller in colour than her own outfit. She places them on the desk, and Edwin hovers his hand over them. He mutters an incantation in Aramaic and the clothes seem to flicker in and out of reality for a second before resettling.

“Yay. All ghostified!”

Niko turns around to face the window as Edwin begins to change.

“Let me know if you need any help!” she says.

“I think I can manage,” Edwin chuckles, removing his bow tie and detachable collar.

Once his shirt and undershirt are removed, he holds up the new shirt Niko picked out for him. It is a gorgeous dark blue, and looks a tiny bit smaller than his usual clothes.

“Are you sure this will fit, Niko?”

“Yeah! We measured you and everything! I’m guessing the shirt is a little tighter fitting than what you usually wear, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Ah.”

Edwin slips the shirt on. Niko is right, it is much tighter fitting than his school uniform. It’s different but…he thinks he’ll get used to it. He buttons it up, then moves onto the trousers. He sits down to take his boots off, then untucks the ends of his knickerbockers from his socks and removes them too.

The trousers Niko picked out are black and fitted, and Edwin once again worries they may be too small. However when he puts them on, they fit perfectly, even if they do feel a little strange to him.

Edwin tucks the shirt into the trousers, then clears his throat.

“You can turn around now, Niko.”

Niko turns around to look at him and smiles.

“They suit you so well!” she runs up to him and hugs him.

Edwin smiles back, looking down at his clothes.

“But…”

“What?”

“At the club most people would wear it a little more…casually?” she explains. She raises her hands to his neck. “Can I?”

Edwin nods.

Niko carefully undoes the top few buttons on Edwin’s shirt, enough that his collarbones are visible, along with a very subtle hint of hair at the top of his chest.

“There.”

“Are you sure, Niko? I feel a little…naked.”

“If you want them done up that’s fine! I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but this looks really good.”

“Hmm…”

Edwin considers but ultimately decides to leave the buttons as Niko changed them.

Niko tilts her head a little, as though inspecting him.

“Maybe roll the sleeves up, too? I think that would really elevate the look,” she says, as though she’s on her own fashion TV show.

The shirt is nearly so tight it’s impossible, but Edwin does manage to roll the sleeves up just past his elbow. The outfit makes him feel a little less formal than usual, like he could let loose a little more; which, he supposed, was the whole point of the evening.

“Perfect!” Niko says, at the same moment her phone buzzes in her bag.

She pulls it out to check it, then frowns.

“No!” she groans.

“What is it?”

“Crystal’s just texted. Jamie, Sammie and Liv can’t make it anymore.”

“Oh.”

Edwin looks down at the floor, then reaches up as though to begin taking the outfit off, just as he was starting to really like it.

“No!” Niko shouts, stopping him. “No, we’re still going! It’ll just be the four of us instead of seven.”

Edwin sighs in relief.

“Ah, right.”

“You ready to go meet them outside the flat?”

“I think so.”

Edwin offers his arm to Niko, who interlinks her own, and they leave the office.

Charles and Crystal are already waiting for them outside the block of flats the girls live in.

Crystal is wearing a purple mesh top with a black bralette underneath, along with torn-looking black denim shorts and her heavy floral boots. She has her hair braided at the front and covered in purple glitter, her curls loose at the back. She and Niko look like the sun and the moon came alive as teenage girls.

Charles’s outfit is what distracts Edwin the most, simply because it is Charles. He’s replaced his red polo shirt with a vest in the same colour, not unlike the white one he wears beneath his typical clothes. With it, he wears similar black shorts to Crystal, only his are less torn and longer. Edwin can’t help staring at his legs for a while. His chain necklace glimmers on his collarbone, sitting directly on his skin rather than his shirt, and oh. He’s put more eyeliner on than usual. Rather than just a tiny amount on his bottom waterline, the black makeup goes all around his eyes and flicks out into a point at the corners. It makes the brown of his irises look even warmer, somehow.

Charles seems equally as taken aback by Edwin’s outfit. He wears his own clothes more casually sometimes, sure, but they are much looser fitting than the shirt he is wearing right now, and he never undoes quite so many of his buttons. Charles finds himself mesmerised by the way his biceps move beneath the fabric, and the way it clings to his chest to reveal he is much more muscular than expected beneath all those usual layers. Edwin looked…fit. Well, he always did, but now that was brought to the forefront in the best way. That doesn’t mean Charles is attracted to him. No, Edwin being fit is just a fact. Anyone can see that. Definitely.

Neither boy realises they’re properly staring at the other until Crystal clears her throat and breaks them out of their trance.

“Are you two just gonna keep ogling each other or are we gonna get moving?”

“Shh, Crystal, they’ve only seen each other in one outfit for thirty years, let them ogle,” Niko whisper-shouts, grinning as her eyes flick back and forth between the two.

“I’m not ogling,” Charles says, but the slight nervous laugh in his voice gives away the fact that yeah, he definitely was.

The four of them walk the short journey to the club and queue up to get in. Niko and Crystal join the queue for the living, where they show the bouncers their IDs and get let in, while Charles and Edwin join the queue for ghosts. Since if a person dies underage, their ghosts remain forever minors, there are exceptions to the age restrictions at this particular club. It’s not as if they’re going to be purchasing alcohol anyway; they physically cannot drink it. For ghosts, the club serves more as a social space than anything else.

Upon entering the club, both Charles and Edwin are taken aback by how full it is – the dance floor is packed, there is a crowd around the bar, and most of the small tables dotted around are taken by groups of people and beings in even more extravagant outfits than those Niko and Crystal are wearing. Edwin is a little overwhelmed, but he feels free.

“You guys good?” Crystal asks, her and Niko having finally reached the front of the entrance queue. She has to shout over the loud music.

“Yes, I think so,” Edwin replies.

“Niko and I are heading to dance, wanna come with?”

“I think I might find a place to sit down first!”

“Yeah, same,” Charles says.

“Suit yourself. We’ll be in the crowd,” Crystal manages to shout as Niko drags her into the mass of people.

Edwin and Charles manage to find two stools at the far end of the bar and sit down. The music isn’t quite as loud over here, so they can actually hear one another.

“What do you think?” Charles asks.

“It’s definitely different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good, I think.”

Edwin turns around on his stool to take in the view of the place – so many people, most of them like him, celebrating it and having fun. He spotted a couple of men in one corner of the dance floor, pressed so close to each other they could be one. One leans in, and the other follows, and soon they’re fully making out right there, in front of everyone. And no one cares. A few people around them cheer, a few whistle, but no one shouts. No one gasps in horror. No one throws any punches or slurs at them. They’re just allowed to be.

Edwin smiles and tries not to cry a little. How times have changed.

Charles taps him on the shoulder. He can feel it much more than he normally can through the single thin shirt he’s wearing.

“There’s a bunch of music posters on the wall over there mate, do you mind if I go have a look?”

“Of course, Charles.”

“You gonna be alright here?”

Edwin nods. Charles grins, and heads over to where he was indicating.

Edwin watches him take in the dozens of posters plastering the wall, the way he gets excited when he sees one he recognises and clearly takes a mental note of others he finds intriguing and wants to check out.

Then suddenly his view is blocked.

A man enters his view and sits on the stool Charles just left.

“Hey handsome,” he says, smirking.

“Who are you?”

“Straight to the point, I like you. I’m Joey, saw you sitting here all on your own and thought you might want some company.”

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” Edwin says.

Something about Joey’s tone of voice and facial expressions reminds Edwin of a certain feline someone.

“You not even gonna tell me your name?”

“Edwin,” Edwin replies, pointedly not returning the sultry eye contact or flirty smile.

“Edwin…” Joey repeats. “Sounds like an old Victorian lord or something. That when you died? Victorian times?”

Seriously, who does this guy think he is? And what kind of flirting is that? Who goes up to someone and asks when they died as a way of chatting them up?

“Edwardian, actually,” Edwin corrects, annoyed.

“Well, okay then, Edwardian. You one of those repressed types then?”

He bites his lip strangely after he says it. Edwin wishes for a second that ghosts could throw up.

“Um…”

“You into music?” a voice asks from beside Charles, making him jump.

He had been too caught up in analysing the wall of posters before him, mostly full of names he’d never heard before, mostly rock and pop artists.

He turns to find a woman Charles presumes is in her forties or fifties standing next to him. She’s wearing a loose-fitting green tank top and baggy jeans, and her shaggy brown hair comes just past her shoulders.

“Uh, yeah,” Charles replies.

“What kind of genre?”

“I mean when I was alive I was mostly into ska but I loved rock too. Bowie, Queen, y’know?”

“Neat choices. Bowie was a legend. My wife and I saw him in Birmingham in ’95.”

“Really? I was meant to be going to see him on tour in March 1990 but…yeah. Wasn’t expecting I’d die three months before the concert.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Now I’ve got…” Charles looks over the woman’s shoulder at where Edwin was still sitting at the bar.

Is that someone sitting next to him? Even from this distance, Charles can tell something’s wrong. Edwin is doing the rubbing-his-fists-together thing he always does when he’s tense or stressed.

“Sorry, I’ve got to…” Charles indicates towards the bar.

“All good. Have a good night!”

“You too!” Charles shouts, already halfway to Edwin.

“Hey,” he says to Edwin when he reaches him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder in a casual display of both affection and protection.

Edwin relaxes under his touch. He can always trust Charles to come and help.

“Who’s this?” he asks.

“I could ask you the same,” says the man, sitting uncomfortably close to Edwin. The stool wasn’t that close when Charles left it, that’s for sure.

“Charles,” Charles says, then gets an idea. “Edwin’s boyfriend.”

Edwin gasps a little in shock. He knows Charles is lying to get Joey out of the way, but even just hearing the phrase from Charles’s mouth makes his heart feel as though it skips a beat despite the fact it doesn’t beat at all.

“He never mentioned a boyfriend,” Joey says, still looking at Edwin in a way that made Charles kind of wish he had a weapon on him.

“Probably because him being clearly not interested should’ve been enough of a sign,” Charles argues protectively.

“He never said that, either.”

“Well, I’m not,” Edwin finally speaks up.

Joey raises his eyebrows as if saying ‘oh really?’. Seriously, what is wrong with this guy? Edwin hasn’t done a single thing that would indicate any kind of interest at all.

“Oi,” Charles says, louder and almost a threat. “You were making him uncomfortable, so why don’t you just move along and bother someone else?”

Joey opens his mouth to argue, but something in Charles’s face must convince him to give up because he gets up off the stool and walks away with a huff.

“Sorry about that, mate,” Charles apologises, releasing his hold on Edwin’s shoulder and reclaiming his seat.

“It’s alright. I’m glad you came; he was being rather…forward. And completely improper.”

“I could tell.”

“Can you believe he asked me if, because I died in 1916, I am ‘one of those repressed types’? And tried to make it sound dallying?”

“What the fuck?”

Charles looks over Edwin’s shoulder in the direction Joey walked off; he’s still standing there, a short distance away from them, watching.

“He’s still staring. Prick. Should’ve brought my bat with me,” Charles says.

“Charles,” Edwin chuckles. “I don’t need you to beat a man up for me.”

“Well I would. He’s a right creep.”

“Perhaps we don’t need to resort to violence just yet.”

“Maybe we should keep this up for a bit. Me pretending to be your boyfriend,” Charles suggests, draping his arm across Edwin’s shoulders again.

“Hmm, that might be a good idea.”

“Oh wait, unless you were actually trying to flirt with people. Just not that guy. If you were, that’s fine I can just keep an eye on him.”

“Charles, my plan for tonight did not include flirting, I assure you. I’m fine with you pretending. As long as you are.”

Edwin doesn’t want to make Charles feel like he has to do this, especially given the already slightly awkward nature of their relationship after Edwin’s confession in Hell.

“’Course, mate,” Charles replies decisively.

Well, they wouldn’t have to do anything especially physical, Edwin doesn’t expect. Just otherwise couple-like. And based on some of their clients’ attitudes towards them, many people assume they’re romantically together anyway, so this should work perfectly.

“Thank you.”

“Wanna go find the girls? Might help lose him if he can’t see us in the crowd,” Charles proposes.

Edwin nods, and the two of them stand up from their stools at the bar.

It takes a while, but eventually they find Niko and Crystal on the dance floor. They’re both sweating and Niko’s makeup has smudged, but they seem to be having a good time.

“Edwin!” Niko shouts excitedly upon seeing them. “Are you having fun?”

“Definitely!” Edwin replies.

He leaves out the part about the stalkerish creep trying to flirt with him. That’s irrelevant to his enjoyment of the club as a whole.

“Good. Come dance with us!”

Niko drags him forward, and all four of them begin dancing in a very small space on the floor.

Edwin doesn’t exactly know how to dance, not in the modern sense at least, but he soon learns that in this context, dancing is not exactly the art of movement that it usually is. It’s more just many people crowding together like sardines and just…moving; a lot of people much closer than others. Edwin wouldn’t be surprised if there were some inappropriate activities going on amongst some of the people there.

He enjoyed the experience for a while, laughing with the three most important people in his afterlife, jumping around to music Edwin would absolutely despise in any other context. The closeness was fun for a short while, until it all started getting too much.

One clearly very popular song came on and even more people flooded to the floor, the crowd packing in even tighter to fit everyone, writhing against each other more than dancing. It all started to feel too familiar, and Edwin began to panic that any second a bloodied hand would reach out of the mass of people to grab him by the ankle, by the leg, by the arm, by the waist, and drag him down into-

“Mate!” Charles says standing directly in front of him with his hands on his shoulders. “You alright?”

Edwin can feel himself beginning to hyperventilate and shakes his head. Charles points to the side, and Edwin follows his finger to a quiet corner of the room.

Charles leads him out of the crowd, never letting go of both of his hands until they’re fully out and can breathe.

“You good?” he asks, worried. “You seemed to disappear and then went all panicky.”

“Yes,” Edwin says, getting his breath back. “I’m fine, that just…brought back memories I’d rather forget.”

“Lust room?”

Edwin looks up at him in surprise. Sometimes he forgets Charles saw exactly what he went through in Hell. He nods.

“Too many people, too close together.”

“I get it. You’re alright now, though, yeah?” he checks, looking Edwin over for any sign of hurt or discomfort.

“Yes, Charles, I’m fine.”

“Good.”

And it is good. Edwin fully relaxes now he’s with Charles away from the dance floor, and he’s still having a good time overall. At least until he spots an annoyingly familiar face watching them from the bar.

“He’s back,” Edwin sighs.

Joey sits at the bar next to Niko and Crystal, who had left the crowd when Charles led Edwin out. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be paying the girls any mind. Unluckily, he’s still staring at the boys, as though trying to figure them out, or catch them doing something.

“For fuck’s sake, can he not take a hint?” Charles groans.

“Apparently not.”

Charles wracks his mind for something to do, a way to get that fucker to leave Edwin alone, until an idea pops into his head.

“Kiss me,” he says, entirely seriously.

“What?” Edwin sputters.

“Kiss me.” Charles repeats. “If you want. I think he’s suspicious we’re not actually a couple so that should convince him to leave us alone. If you don’t want to, we can think of something else but that’s all I-”

“Are you sure?” Edwin cuts him off.

“Yeah, just do it.”

Slowly, Edwin steps closer to Charles, giving him the chance to back out if he isn’t comfortable – and also giving Edwin time to process that this is really happening. It’s not really how he’d imagined kissing Charles for the first time, but if this is the only chance he’s ever going to get to do it, he’ll take whatever Charles will give him.

Eventually, their lips meet, and the feeling is more than Edwin has ever dreamed of. He knows ghosts can properly feel one another, but the only time he’d ever kissed anyone was Monty, which felt like a barely-there pressure, so that was all he had to go on in his daydreams.

But this…oh, this is wonderful. He can feel the tiny details of Charles’s lips against his own – they’re slightly chapped, and one part on his lower lip is slightly rougher from where he always bites it. Charles’s hands wrap around Edwin’s waist to pull him closer and Edwin doesn’t want the moment to end.

As it appears, neither does Charles. He kisses back with equal enthusiasm, rocking them almost back and forth on their feet with the force of it. He’s never kissed another ghost before and now he has, he doesn’t think he wants to stop. The weight of another person against him, the incomparable experience of truly feeling another person’s lips against his own…it makes him feel alive, as though Edwin is breathing life back into his long-dead lungs.

Charles is the one who takes the kiss a step further, licking at Edwin’s lips as though begging for permission. Edwin opens his mouth gladly and eventually they’re properly making out in a dark corner of the club. Charles manoeuvres them until Edwin’s back is against the wall. It would have hurt if he was alive, but he’s not, so he doesn’t care.

One of Edwin’s hands moves up to cradle the back of Charles’s neck and mess with the bottom of his hair, while the other goes to Charles’s hips to pull him impossibly closer. As the kiss grows somehow more intense, the hand in his hair moves ever so slightly upwards until Edwin is lightly tugging on Charles’s curls, and he lets out a soft moan into Edwin’s mouth, which only spurs both of them on.

The two of them lose track of time entirely, too lost in one another to care to remember this was only supposed to be an act, or to notice when Joey finally gives up and leaves the club, or to spot Niko and Crystal walking over to them with shocked expressions on their faces.

They only break apart when Crystal snaps her fingers. Reality comes flooding back to them, and they realise what just happened. They all but jump apart, Edwin desperate to make himself look presentable once more. He reaches up to fix his bow tie, forgetting he isn’t even wearing one. Shit, one (very long) kiss and his brain seems to have stopped working altogether.

“Guys?” Niko says in shock, an awed grin plastered on her face.

“Fucking finally!” Crystal says.

“Is he gone?” Charles asks.

How is he stringing words together right now? Edwin thinks.

 “Oh, thank fuck.” Charles continues when he can’t spot Joey anywhere. “We were faking it to get this creepy guy off Edwin’s ass- wait what do you mean, finally?”

“Nothing…” Crystal says, raising her hands in defense as if she never said anything at all.

“We’re ready to go now,” Niko explains, her grin having morphed into more of a smirk.

“Yes, I think we are, too,” Edwin manages, still slightly breathless from the…ahem, wall encounter.

The four of them head to the exit, Edwin walking ahead with Niko while Charles walks with Crystal. Charles and Edwin say nothing to each other.

“That was faking it?” Crystal hisses to him.

“Yeah. I mean the kiss was real, obviously. But the rest was fake.”

“Mhm, sure Charles,” she says, in a tone that says she really is not convinced, then speeds up a little to catch up with the other two.

“So, Edwin, would you wanna come again?”

“Not often, but yes, I think I would. Though I doubt I would join you two in the dancing. I do like just watching people.”

Charles doesn’t want to think about the strange feeling of happiness that floods over him at the thought of potentially pretending to be Edwin’s boyfriend again – not that he wishes for more creepy men to try and come onto Edwin, obviously. And he really doesn’t want to think about the feeling of Edwin’s body pressed against his own, the feeling of his hand in his hair gently tugging, the feeling of their mouths moving against one another. But as much as he didn’t want to, the memories and thoughts associated with them would not leave his mind, and he expected they wouldn’t for a very long time.

Maybe he should rethink the whole not being in love with Edwin back thing.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

after a lifetime of avoiding the show, your reblog of that post about castiel where you compared him to aziraphale convinced me to watch supernatural. “yes,” i thought, “i love emotionally tortured angels who struggle to do the right thing despite their religious guilt and millenia of conditioning towards blind obedience. i love angel characters who struggle to accept grey areas of morality after being taught morality is black and white their entire existence. i love angels who experience queer longing. i love aziraphale. i will love castiel.” it’s been two weeks and i am now on season 5 episode 1. i now understand why this show had tumblr in such a chokehold for so long. i am in pain. every time cas and dean are in the same room it feels like i’m on fire. this is suffering. and the worst part is that i know how it ends due to the infamous series finale. why did i sign myself up for this. i have 11 seasons to go. why did i do this to myself. i am too old for this. thank you for convincing me to give this incredible show a try. but also screw you bc i am suffering. anyway all jokes aside i’m not actually mad asmi, and i hope you’re having a good day/night!!! much love to our very own good omens mascot ❤️

LOVE YOU TOO ANON MAGGOT I LIKE HOW IM NOW MAKING PEOPLE SHOWS I'VE NEVER WATCHED THAT'S QUITE THE ACHIEVEMENT

Man I remember when my darling husband and partner @gay-david-tennant *narrows eyes at him* gave me several existential crises by explaining What Happened with Supernatural in 2020 thanks for that liebling it wasn't traumatic at all my sense of reality definitely didn't crumble

Also ELEVEN SEASONS TO GO??? HOW LONG IS THIS THING??

Good luck you're going to need it

[wrongbodies]

Not Enough Bodies

While the experience of astral projection is quite thrilling, the one thing every Projector must learn is paramount. Never Project too long, the spirit can only sustain itself for so long without a vessel. A vessel of course, being a living body - and must be human. A human soul is too potent for any other beast on Earth to contain.

These thoughts always rush to the forefront of Ethan's mind when he and his friends get together for a night of Projecting. It was a skill taught by their enigmatic friend and guide into this strange, supernatural world. Vance had appeared to Ethan and Mark like a Moon suddenly peering through a cloudy night.

Once he was there, he was bright and mysterious. But at times he would vanish, and we could only hope he'd return.

Mark and Ethan were best friends, seniors in college, and woefully dorky. They were both STEM majors, so the prospect of astral projection had come as a highly doubtful, extremely silly idea too them. But when Vance convinced them to try, and they first floated up and out of their still forms, there was no doubt.

Ethan watched Mark as he prepared himself as he always did in advance of a night of Projection. He drank a peppermint tea, and put on thick, wool socks. He always complained his extremities got cold when he returned to his body. When Ethan came back, the sensation he typically felt was a stiffness, like his joints needed to remember how to twist or turn properly. Ethan and Mark never knew what Vance felt, he was always so guarded.

Vance returned from the restroom, right as Mark downed the last of his tea.

"Are we ready, then?" Vance breathed. He was dressed the same as he always was. Dark jeans, black boots, a grey tee tucked in, a braided black belt, and a black overcoat. His eyes were an icy blue, but surprisingly his hair was a bright blond color, looking quite handsome and becoming for someone who was wont to dress like a kid who never grew out of his goth phase.

"We are." Mark said, seriously. He always became so intense before a Projection. He was eager, no doubt. Yet, Ethan believes his mind focuses on the process of the Projecting so as to easily transition from the material world to the astral plane.

"Then let us begin. As always, I begin with the guiding words. All around us, in us, and beyond lies the astral plane. A world between worlds and without them. We seek to ease our spirits out of their material bodies, and slip into the astral ephemera. Our spirits dwell for a time in the astral world, but we are bound inexorably to our mortal shells. But tonight - tonight, we temporarily venture beyond the mortal vessel." Vance chants, his voice soothing and encouraging.

By this point we have all laid down, Ethan on the couch, and the others on the floor. Our eyes flutter shut, and on the last word spoken each of us enters the trance. As always, the sensation overcomes Ethan, a feeling like sliding, only against gravity. Looking down, Ethan can see his body below, looking tranquil in its repose. When the last of his spirit form is removed from the body, the sliding sensation ceases, and the bliss of weightless astral energy courses through him.

Vance had long ago warned the two of indulging too deeply in the euphoric qualities of the astral plane. Mostly because it could deaden our attention to the time spent out of body. The lesser reason because we'd ignore the other fun to be had when incorporeal and invisible. Mainly, we could fly and pass through walls... and spy on others. It was perhaps a bit perverse, but when you can seamlessly and safely observe literally anything, it only becomes natural to partake.

Vance and Mark floated over their bodies much like Ethan. Vance spoke, and his voice carried the strange lilting quality that all voices took when Projecting. "Tonight I entrust the two of you to ensure your own return. The safety of your spirits is yours. I must seek the truth of something that is for me, and me alone. Be well, and be safe."

Mark and Ethan watched as Vance floated up, and through the ceiling into the night. Exchanging looks, Mark and Ethan then grinned. There was but one thing that the two had experienced once, briefly, that they longed to try once more.

While in their corporeal bodies, they were far too shy and too guarded to admit the attraction they shared for one another. But, somehow in the astral plane they felt no such burdens. They drifted to one another, and sunk their astral arms into one another. The sensation was intoxicating. Together they swirled around, letting the exquisite ecstasy of the impossible sexual encounter overwhelm their senses. They had no idea that Vance would give them this opportunity to indulge, but unbound by bodies or judgement, they overlapped their forms - their very souls, and found the most profound and visceral pleasure. Mark would never admit to Ethan that part of his pleasure was more than just a shy attraction, but genuine love he'd come to have for his friend over their years of knowing one another.

Likewise, Ethan was too ashamed of what he thought others would think of him to admit his deep infatuation with Mark. He had no reason to imagine Vance would judge them, but his fears lay with his parents. Would they ever accept him were he to be honest with his feelings? What would happen if they ever stepped this kind of union into their corporeal lives?

Those thoughts harried his pleasure, and Mark slowly separated himself. "What is wrong, Ethan?"

"Oh, I didn't realize you would notice..." Ethan admitted. He should have though, considering their current forms were essentially their minds and souls stripped of flesh and bone, their very being consisting of their current thoughts and feelings.

"I sensed a great deal of shame, doubt... and longing?" Mark asked.

"I can't hide it, I suppose." Ethan shrugged. "I know we've fooled around like this a little bit before, but it isn't just in this world that I think I have fallen for you."

If the spirit form could blush, then Mark would be blazing red. "Are you saying you like me?"

"Like seems to be an understatement. I could drink you in body and soul anytime. Literally, in corporeal or spirit form." Ethan smiled, an uncertain crooked smile.

"Then have me fully!" Mark said, surging forward and plunging into Ethan's spirit form. "I have wanted nothing more for a while now."

"Y-you have?" Ethan said, incredulous.

"If you don't believe me, then listen to the sound of my soul. Feel it in you." Mark replied. He guided Ethan to reach a spectral hand into his own chest, and let the pulsations of love and carnal attraction emanate from within, and down into Ethan's own form.

"I wish I was as brave as you." Ethan admitted. "I don't think I can come out, or anything."

"Who says you must? And anyways, we can take it slow. I have been dying to know what your corporeal body feels like... and tastes like." Mark assured.

To this, Ethan could only blush - well, he assumed it was a blush. But without anymore words he merged his spirit once more with Mark.

For hours, they hovered and drifted, until a dinging noise sounded from beneath them. Their 15 minute warning had come, and they groaned in sync as they must return to their forms. They were quite close to Ethan's body, when a strange sensation overcame Mark.

"What is this feeling?" Mark asked.

"What do you mean?" Ethan returned. "I don't feel anything."

"Come here." Mark said, flying to his body, but not touching it. Ethan followed suit, and was then struck with an odd sensation as well.

The two felt a strange tugging towards their friends (boyfriends?) bodies. Mark looked perplexed, but then a mischievous smile spread across his face. "I have an idea..."

Before Ethan could do anything or move, Mark dove into Ethan's unconscious form. Miraculously, he merged and Ethan watched in awe as Mark sat up, only - he was wearing Ethan's body. Ethan looked down at Marks handsome face, his ginger hair a little rumpled from lying on the floor. He gently eased himself down, and when he made contact, the rest of him flowed in like water to a teapot.

"This is wild." Mark breathed, already at Ethan's side, and feeling his former bodies arms and face. Ethan didn't mind, so much. He may be looking back at his own body, but the attraction was still palpable. He made a risky wager, and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his own lips.

Hungrily, Mark devoured more, his lips and tongue moving across Ethan, and down his neck with a lust and passion. For a while, the two lost themselves in each other, until the last ring of the phone alarm sounded. They looked over, and both blanched when they realized the horrible truth.

Vance hadn't returned. His body was still prone, and the time had run out. His spirit was potentially lost forever, as the body would start to die in the coming hours.

To be continued...

[chaos-interwoven]

been listening to Howl by F+TM on repeat and i cannot stop thinking about an au of jerejean where they’re a vampire and priest in training

and i know, i know, that the initial instinct is to make jean the vampire because he’s tall and lanky and pale with his black hair and his grey eyes. but im saying resist that instinct. imagine jeremy as the vampire. think of eternal youth and beauty. think of cunning and charm. think of endless lust and seduction. do you see it? jeremy who had a strained relationship with his family turned broken when he became a vampire. jeremy having hookup after hookup because somehow he is even more attractive now and he has simultaneously lost everything and gained the world.

and jean. jean being in seminary school in france, pursuing priesthood like his family wishes of him. catholicism being all he has ever known and any other future being something he wouldn’t dare to whisper even in his dreams. jean burying and burning his sexuality and turning to god over and over and over again. jean with so much religious guilt. jean who’s communication is almost only with priests and those training to be priests, maybe by requirement, maybe by choice and self-censorship.

and one day, they encounter each other. maybe jeremy is boldened by his immortality and thinks it would be fun and harmless to seduce a priest in training out of his religious order. to make him betray his training and himself. but jean is not who jeremy thought he would be. he makes jeremy feel human and alive in a way he hasn’t felt since turning. he makes jeremy want and want deeper than a silly little experiment to fuck with someone’s life. he wants jean for more than that, on a deeper level than that. he wants him for eternity but he won’t accept yet that because surely that myth of vampires and true mates and mating for life was just a stupid tale. and jean find temptation in jeremy that he has never had before. it’s too much for him to bury. it thrums in his veins.

and so the two dance around each other. scandalous and secretive and ridden with jean’s guilt and jeremy’s denial. there are only so many excuses jeremy can keep making to show up at the church and around it. jean sees through them but allows them anyway because even on fake religious pretense, at least he is able to see jeremy. but it builds and builds and builds. and one night, jean stumbles upon jeremy feeding on someone. and suddenly he knows jeremy’s secret and instead of being scared or disgusted, he feels something awaken inside him. a beast clawing at his chest to be let out. he feels feral and overflowing with desire. he has the urge to hunt jeremy even knowing how his frail mortality holds up to jeremy’s supernatural form.

but he doesn’t know what to do with that. and jeremy is afraid he has ruined everything, feels for the first time since turning that this really is a curse not a blessing. so they try to stay away from each other. jeremy skips town and they each think that’s the last they will see of the other. until, jean’s taking a trip to rome with his school. it’s a requirement to pilgrimage to the four major papal basilicas after intensive years of study. and to pay a trip to the vatican and meet with the pope. and who’s in the city but jeremy himself. but this time when they encounter each other — jeremy having picked up a tendency to visit churches because he cannot get jean out of his head — jean isn’t so willing to let jeremy go or ignore his urges.

jean goes out looking for jeremy, sneaking out to look for the vampire and finds him feeding once again. jeremy doesn’t notice he’s there until jean puts a hand on his shoulder and when he does, he sees jean has gotten blood on him and feels his fangs extend even further which is not something he thought possible. and he wants, he wants, he wants but he can’t ruin jean the way he himself is ruined. so he tries to run but jean won’t let him. jean chases him, grabs him and as they crash together, sinks his teeth into jeremy’s neck. he knows he’s merely human. he knows he doesn’t have fangs. but the urge to bite is stronger than he knows what to do with and he cannot think of a reason to resist it. jeremy is shocked but around a moan, sinks his own teeth into jean, finally tasting the blood of the man who has consumed his waking thoughts for so so long and turning him into a vampire as well. and as jean turns, they can both feel it in their veins. the way they are meant to be together. not just now, but for eternity.

there are honestly so many lyrics that work for this idea but what sticks out the most is this and it’s jean to jeremy:

“If you could only see the beast you've made of me / I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free / The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound / I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground”

[farahtissaiamyloves]

I didn't mean to scare you - part 2

Lucifer Morningstar x human!reader

Guess who finally decided to write something? Me! Season 2 of Sandman was so good I couldn't not write something for my beloved retired Lucifer. BTW, contains season 2 spoilers.

One day you left them being the Great Ruler of Hell and the next, they were knocking on your door, telling you that they had retired.

In the beginning, you were feeling a little guilty because you were under the impression that they left something they loved only to be with you.

Later, however, Lucifer made it clear that they chose it for their own freedom. The ruler of Hell was done being trapped in a single realm, only being able to leave for a couple of moments for you.

They wanted to travel, experience the world like they never did with you by their side and you were more than glad to provide.

Another point that saddened you greatly was their mutilation. You loved their wings and as a matter of fact, you knew they loved them too.

However, Lucifer assured you that everything has a give and a take and in this matter, they needed to get rid of the last thing connecting them to God to finally be able to experience their freedom.

You never thought that you would sit on your couch, by your lover, watching movies or whatever violent series Lucifer chose (you were in the middle of watching Game of Thrones and Lucifer LOVED the Red Wedding).

Life with the fallen angel was hilarious. They knew that people needed to consume food to survive, but they never realized beforehand that people needed to cook the food first.

You were cooking them as many different meals as you could, even though they didn't need any nutrition, only for them to taste different cultures and tastes.

Lucifer showed a particular live for Greek, Italian and Chinese food and lucky for them, your Greek roots were more than lucky to provide.

One day, you left Lucifer sitting on a plastic chair, looking out at the uneasy sea while you went out to grab a quick drink (Lucifer saw a couple of people drinking whiskey the other day when both of you spent your evening in a bar and wanted to try it out).

When you returned, you raised an eyebrow at the sight of them.

Lucifer hasn't moved, still seated on the plastic chair while a gothic, high, black haired, extremely pale man was standing next to them, talking to them.

You looked between them. Lucifer wasn't very fond of talking to other mortals except of you yet and the sight of them talking so casually with someone confused you.

However, the more you looked at the mystery man, the more supernatural he seemed.

You bited the inside of your cheek, realizing that the man must be a fellow, extremely strong immortal because truth be told, Lucifer wouldn't be wasting their time on a nobody God.

You slowly walked towards them.

The man turned to look at you first and tilted his neck at tge sight of you approaching them.

Lucifer turned too and gave you a brief smile, motioning you to come closer.

With Lucifer on board, you walked a little faster and settled back down on your seat next to them.

Lucifer raised their one hand, accepting the bottle from your hands and opened it effortlessly.

Before you had the chance to handle them a plastic cup, the former angel took a large sip from the bottle and hummed. "Mmm. That's good." They exclaimed, feeling pleased.

The man didn't comment as his expressionless face remained perfectly stoic. He looked down at the bottle, before looking up at Lucifer and then settling on you.

Lucifer shook their head. "Dream, I would introduce my loving partner, but I know better." They spoke, knowing that Dream knew many people through their dreams, especially someone who was so close to them.

You looked between Lucifer and the man they called Dream. After fateful night, Lucifer told you everything about Dream.

And then, when they came to you in the human world, Lucifer informed you that they had entrusted the key to hell to Morpheus in an attempt to break him.

Dream wordlessly looked at you. "Being with one like us is no easy task. I admire your devotion and willpower."

Lucifer let out a chuckle at that. "Oh, little Dream, believe me, I treat her far better than your little.... Did you find her by the way?"

You noticed the Dream Lord becoming a little defensive at the mention of the woman. You assumed Lucifer was referring to Nada; his mortal ex.

Dream nodded. "I did. She is with me now."

Lucifer nodded back, half surprised and half impressed. "Good for you, Morpheus. Good for you."

Your partner turned to look at you. They placed a hand on your knee. "Thanks for the whiskey, love."

After that, they turned to the Dream Lord. "Off you go, Morpheus. And remember, only the best dreams for my darling."

Dream didn't reply but only looked with his signature, expressionless gaze Lucifer and then you before turning around and vanishing after a couple of steps.

You looked at the place he once was as Lucifer took another sip of the whiskey, eyes locked straight ahead at the waves of the sea.

"So.... His mortal girlfriend agreed to be back at him after ten thousand years of torture? I can hardly believe it." You commented, turning to look at them.

Lucifer hummed, eyes looking up at the gray sky. "Don't be ridiculous. After what that girl weng through, she probably doesn't even want to lay her eyes on him."

You nodded, still looking at them as you pulled out the plastic cup from your handbag and handed it to them.

Lucifer took it. They gave you an inquisitive gaze before understanding what the cup was for. They poured some whiskey in the cup and placed the bottle on the sand, against their chair. They took a sip and sighed in satisfaction. "Much better. Thank you, love."

You smiled at them. "Of course, dearest. I wouldn't wish to be condemned to ten thousand years of pure torture."

Lucifer laughed at your joke. "Oh, dearest, I love you so much."

[sapphosscribe]

Do you headcanon/write Ford as autistic by any chance? Or are you just writing him as canonically socially-awkward? I find it genuinely interesting to get these kinds of insights into writers cuz he could easily be either one! But, no matter what he wouldn’t know due to how it was back when he was young. Just wanted to seek some more insight into your Ford cuz he very entertaining!

Keep doing what you’re doing btw I love your fic!!!

You have no idea how excited I was to receive this question 😃😃

The short answer is yes, I do headcanon Ford as autistic. I have plenty of friends who fall somewhere in the AuDHD spectrum and I can sometimes see a bit of Ford reflected in them.

The fact he has a hyper specialized interest and knowledge in anomalies and the supernatural, the way he’ll ignore/forget his own needs when in the middle of his work, him wearing his coat and sweaters even in the summer for pressure on his body, not to mention his attachment to these items and his journals so much so that he could get rid of them even when the world depended on it. The journals themselves being a means for him to organize his thoughts and perceptions on the world around him as well as a comfort object.

I know there’s been discourse in the fandom over the years about Ford having NPD because of how he doesn’t try to see Stan’s perspective in the show, isolates himself, and him seeing himself as better than everyone around him. For those who choose to read him as NPD, totally valid, however I see these things more as further proof of Ford’s autism.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Stanley’s perspective on how Ford’s actions have hurt him over the years, but more that he can’t. It might never have occurred to him without consciously sitting down and considering it why Stan would be mad at him when he’s the one who broke Ford’s project. I consider it another social miscommunication or a failure to read cues more than Ford disregarding Stan’s feelings or thinking his own experience is more important/valid than his brother’s.

As for him isolating and believing he’s superior to everyone else, I think it’s more overcompensation to hide insecurity. Ford doesn’t know how to be around people, so he’d rather be alone than deal with social stigma and feeling abnormal. On the opposite side of this, he’s performing at an insanely high level intellectually and equating that with worth. He thinks he can use his intelligence and ‘usefulness’ as a way to bridge this social gap and prove to himself and others he’s just as good as everyone else around him.

I could honestly yap about this all day, but I’ll stop here and just say that, if you’re reading Ford as autistic, the intent was there in my part to showcase that character trait without saying it. We’ll soon be seeing some further miscommunications coming up in future updates.

Thanks for you question @lilypad-8! I had a great time answering! 😁

[deancasforcutie]

Dean complimenting fellow queer people on their game

Bonus inverse, trying to out-game someone to vicariously flirt for/with your presumed-but-not-at-all-straight friend who has no game whatsoever:

[missmouse43]

Tbh it’s pretty masochistic of Misha Collins to willingly walk onto a set again with the same two men who tortured him for over a decade.

Don’t get me wrong I’m happy he’s doing it. Thanks for taking one for the team king 👑

I just think it might be a mental illness at this point.

[go-learn-esperanto]

"Reading the news is important!"

The news I read:

[cloudinal]

Been rewatching Lain lately, had to get this out of my system

[poedays]

Imagine if Lovely was one of those supernatural investigators on YouTube or something, and had quite a large following - only to suddenly disappear after promoting their newest video: ‘Discovering the unknown secrets of Wonderworld (1985-2001)’ and they’ve got videos saved on an old camera of them going through Surge and pretty much everything up to meeting Vincent.