#what the FUCK is going on with supernatural

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends behind--for Nancy Wheeler. 

This was a lie. 

It wasn’t even one he encouraged--and Steve had done some damage control in the aftermath of that whole thing with the tunnels. 

He volunteered, dropped hints to the right crowd. 

It took time, but eventually, his insistence that he’d changed, left his old crew behind to become a better version of himself, began to stick.

Or at least it did with the people who mattered.  

It took Starcourt for him to realize that wasn’t really the truth either. 

Steve did want to be a better person. He was working actively on being a better person. 

But…

(But he still heard screams from a bus in the junkyard when he slept. Felt fear lick down his spine as he charged in, knowing he was the only thing standing between three dumb kids and a painful, shitty death. 

But he still heard Dustin, full of conviction, tell his friends that Steve was the only person he could find. 

But now he had a “bad” shoulder, a “twinge” in his ribs, and a head that was plagued by migraines, all of which made him look in the mirror and ask himself “What if I hadn’t gone with them?) 

…you couldn’t be there for someone, couldn’t protect someone, if you were too busy playing high school bullies with your friends. 

Robin would likely argue these were simply the reasons he wanted to be a better person, but Robin now ranked as one of Steve’s top 10 personal regrets--even if he was pretty sure they’d become best friends.

Because Steve was the oldest. He’d graduated high school for fucks sake, he should have shut Dustin down the second he realized what was happening was legitimate. 

He absolutely should not have let Robin get involved and Erica--

He can’t even really think about Erica, no matter how much Erica herself argues elsewise. 

At the very least, Steve can admit to himself he protected them in the end. 

Got beat to shit and had to fake his death alongside Hopper to do it, but they all got out. 

Alive.

Unscathed.

Hopefully to put this whole fucking thing past them once Owens finished cleaning house in the government. 

Unfortunately life--and Eddie fucking Munson--was not ready to put anything to rest. 

Munson in fact, seemed hellbent on disturbing what he could--and Steve, wholly haunted by the fact the kids always came to him, couldn’t let him do it alone.

At least, he thought with grim distaste, as he followed Munson’s weaving path to the ruins of Starcout,  he was getting his car out of it. 

xXx

Uncanny valley doesn’t do Steve’s feelings justice. 

Starcourt was laid out in a giant L, and coming at it from the outer edges like he and Munson did means everything looks disturbingly normal. 

Off putting, if only because it’s 10 in the morning and not a soul is in the mall, but otherwise? 

Like nothing ever went wrong.

As they move closer to the center, things begin to unravel. 

It’s not noticeable at first. Not unless you’re looking. The litter on the floor, the little piles of weird looking debris. 

The stains.

Nothing that outwardly screams “something horrible happened here” but it's coming--and though Munson is creeping along just as quietly as Steve is, he knows the guy isn’t on edge in the same way. 

Why would he be? Nothing Steve said had managed to deter him, and given Steve can’t exactly explain what happened or why he’s playing possum, Munson was plenty confident about going forward with his little B&E. 

At least not until they finally turn the corner, and the destruction hits them full force. 

Glass and chunks of plaster cover the ground like confetti. Lights hang sideways or lay smashed on the floor, as do pieces of doors (and railings and half of the entire upper floor.) 

The place looks like something out of a disaster film--which Steve supposes, is exactly what it is. 

If the disaster was supernatural in nature, and also caused by a giant monster made out of the melted flesh. 

(God, his life was weird.)

“What the hell happened here?” Eddie said, eyes wide as he took in the damage. 

Steve tried to imagine what it must look like for him. Looked at the scene and tried to pretend he was someone who wasn’t in the know, who thought the mall had been destroyed by a fire and subsequent structural collapse.

Could almost convince himself one could buy it--if it weren’t for the smears of blood that still stained the floor. 

He stared at said smears, trying to match up which puddle was the one Billy died in, in comparison to all the other stains that the feds hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Recalled the way Max screamed, fighting her way towards her step-brother when he finally fell.

The yell Billy himself had let out, when he’d managed to shake off the Mindflayer, long enough to give El the time she needed. 

Steve hadn’t really thought about it until now. 

Billy’s death.

 Hadn’t really had time too, given Owens had pulled him and a handful of others out of the ambulance and forced them into hiding.

(From the fucking Russians still hanging around, apparently, though that had been Owens flimsy excuse. Murray and Hopper and long guessed it was something far closer to home. 

“You ever think about how weird that was? That Russians made it to Hawkins and no one ever noticed?” Hopper had asked, a beer in the same hand that had an IV sticking out of the back of it. “Given the lab was right across town you think they’d be watching for that kinda thing.” 

“Please Jim, I am begging you, for once, to use your head. They didn’t get here without assistance and they certainly didn’t do it without help from our own government.” Murray had scoffed in return. 

He held two lit cigarettes in his hand, and was reaching for a third.

“Why the hell would the US military let in Russians?"

“An excellent question, and I’ll return it with one of my own. If we assume we are being lied too, and all the Russians are actually gone, why would Owens still need to hide us?"

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”)

Now, Steve found he had all the time in the world to contemplate Billy Hargrove and his mostly unnoticed possession. His supposed sacrifice. 

 Had it redeemed him, the way movies and TV shows always said that kind of death, did? 

Steve imagined the sneered grin on Billy’s face that night at the Byers. Felt phantom knuckles brush across his face, the fury that had ignited within him when Billy hadn’t gone for him, but for Lucas.

Compared it to his own fight with Jonathan in ‘82. 

The words he’d allowed Tommy to spray upon the theater sign regarding his own girlfriend. The camera he’d destroyed. 

The demogorgon in the Byers house, lights flashing as it tore through the wall. 

If things had been different, if Steve hadn’t survived back then--would people wonder the same things about him? Would they ask themselves if his sacrifice was worth it--if it proved he was a good person, under it all? 

“Harrington?” 

Steve jumped, startling when Munson nudged him. 

“You good, man?” He asked, and Steve almost laughed at him because no, he definitely was not good. 

He can’t say that though, and so he does what he always does. Shoves the thoughts down, puts the feelings back inside a box in his mind. 

Lies. 

“Yeah--fine.” He said, brushing off his staring. “Come on, Scoops is that way.” 

He gestures, ignoring the concerned look that’s overtaken Munson’s face. 

Panicking he knows, will not get his keys back, and neither will it help him learn what idiot is poking around the Upside Down this time. 

Because for all of Murray's conspiracies, he doesn’t actually think the feds are Munson’s benefactor. Owens had been inclined to agree, when Steve first reported this entire situation back. 

It’s definitely not his parents, who are conveniently overseas in London. 

That leaves very little options, including a disturbing possibility of a new player to the game, and given all the green goo Steve had seen, the way they all know it does--something, to help power the gate... 

It’d be nice to get ahead of things for once, instead of scrambling to catch up. 

(Screw Hopper and Owens and everyone who told Steve to stay out of it.

He knew damn well Munson wouldn’t listen to his warnings. 

Wouldn’t back off and definitely wouldn’t leave it alone.

Hopper’s half-delirious (and morphine fueled) rants about this finally being a wakeup call for Munson if he didn’t listen wasn’t going to make up for the blood on Steve's hands if the guy went in there without him and died. ) 

Walking through Scoop's is almost more unnerving than walking through the mall itself. Likely because Steve spent time here, and seeing it in it's destroyed state--lights off, ice cream melted and fouling the air with the a rancid stench do him no favors.

The You Suck board is laying haphazardly on the floor.

Steve forces himself to walk by it, and breathes only through his mouth.

“Your locker, my liege!” Munson crows as they enter the back part of Scoop’s, throwing out an arm at it like he’s presenting a game show prize. “Shall we see if the treasure we seek is behind door number one?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but remains quiet as he steps up and enters his combination. 

It swings open as easily as it ever had, and there, hanging from the crooked hook, is the car keys Steve is so desperately after. 

Munson throws his hands in the air, like Steve’s just shot the winning basket of a game. 

“Score!” He yells, and Steve grins reflexively even as he shushes him. 

“Now," Munson says dramatically, "the hunt begins for our second prize.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I told you I don’t have a class ring.” 

“And yet they have me searching for one anyway.” Like a hound zeroing in on a trail, he immediately orients to the back of Scoop’s, waltzing through to the backrooms like this was everyday for him.

Given his confusing and handwaved excuse of how he got involved in this, Steve suppose it could be. 

(He had decided, sometime between the first and fifth time he’d tried to get Eddie to explain how, exactly he’d been roped into this little mission, that the man could never meet Dustin.

Henderson was already too good at steamrolling over Steve, explaining nothing other than the facts that would force them all to do what the little shit wanted, all the while leading them further into trouble.

He didn’t need to befriend someone like Munson, whose mastery of the same bullshit had him doing, well.

This.) 

To the end of the hall Eddie skipped, and Steve kept his eyes on his jacket. Some sort of demon thing was posed on the back, a shirt that had been ripped up and resewn to be a backpatch. 

It was better than looking at anything else back here.

It took them no time at all to reach their destination. 

The door down had a shiny new lock on it. A big thing, with chains so thick Steve briefly wondered if they were worried about containment. 

Had they pulled something through the gate, before it had exploded?

The base was large--larger than Steve had seen, and he'd passed room after room when running around down there.

No one had the time to explore, and one would assume any and all monsters had been removed from the premise but there was always that little tickling feeling.

The one that chanted 'What if...'

Unfortunately, the lock did nothing to detour this little jaunt. 

Munson dropped to his knees in front of a door, hair pin in hand. He fiddled with the lock for a moment and Steve took it to visualize how different things might have been if the older teen had been there with them. 

How much easier some of it would have been. 

(Not that Steve wanted to involve anyone else in this mess.

He'd carry the guilt of dragging Erica and Robin both into it for the rest of his life, not matter what either had to say about the matter. Dustin he knew he couldn't stop, but then, Steve doubted they'd have even made it that far without the girls.)

A click sounded, and Eddie looked up, eyes bright with a wild grin on his face. 

“Open sesame.” He purred as he stood, the door opening under his hands. He pushed on it, revealing the dark gaping maw of a stairwell.

Dread hit Steve like a wave.

“We shouldn’t go down there.” He said.

They had already had this conversation, but Steve felt the overwhelming urge to revisit it on grounds that he still isn’t sure how exactly, Munson got him to agree to come in the first place, and also, now that he was thinking of it, because the guy reminded him of Dustin.

“We shouldn’t be here at all.” Munson countered, springing back to his feet. “But some of us need this little thing called money.”

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, as if Steve needed the extra visual.

“If you’re giving me the car--and the car keys--what's the point of going after the ring?” Steve tried, staring down the stairwell before him. “Aren’t they gonna like, not pay you for not finding anything?”

Munson made a dismissive noise, waving his hands in the air like he was dispersing smoke. 

“Eddie.” Steve said, and knew by the way Munson looked at him that the use of his first name hit as intended. “I mean it, man.” 

There was no point in going through with the rest of it. No point at all.

“And I told you I was given a side mission to my main mission, and a little industry secret for ya here Harrington,"

Steve watched as cheshire-cat like grin lit up Munson’s face, in a way eerie similar to Dustin’s gummy smile. "the side missions always pay more.” 

“What's under there isn’t--this isn’t--it’s not safe.” Steve fired back, hating how he fumbled the words, like a ball slipping through his hands. 

Munson scoffed.

“Life ain’t safe.”  

“This is different.” He tried to argue and hated how stubborn Munson was being about this.

It almost made him feel bad about all the time’s Robin had protested. 

(Idly Steve wondered if this was how she felt. Like she was getting dragged along--like she had to go. 

Did her insides feel scooped out? Stomach hollow and head hurting?

Or had the excitement blinded her too much to feel the way the walls seemed to press in?)

Steve’s gut clenched with worry, and he shook his head to clear the anxiety.

Met Munson's gaze and desperately thought of something to say to convince him to walk away.

Some of that must have bled onto his face, because Munson was giving him an odd, searching look.

“I’ll make you a deal, Steve-O." He said. "You give me two good reasons why we shouldn’t go down there, and if they’re really convincing, I might agree to skip it.” 

“I signed NDAs.” Steve sighed, because this was an argument they’d also already had. 

Twice in fact--once, when Eddie first found him, alive and very much not dead as reported, and the second time when he approached Steve with his “retrieval project.” 

(Both times at the goddamn gas station, which Steve would now be avoiding for life.) 

On eyebrow raised. “Over a mallfire?” 

“I think,” Steve said dryly, gesturing around to the destruction that surrounded them, “that you’ve figured out it wasn’t a mallfire.” 

Technically he wasn't even supposed to say that, but then, Steve had long stopped caring if he actually broke the stupid thing.

The real issue was that the story sounded like something out of a bad horror film--fake and ridiculous. If he tried to explain it, Munson would assume Steve had finally cracked.

Or, more likely, decide he was being made fun of, and react accordingly.

(They couldn't afford to fight here, and neither did Steve want Munson storming off.)

“Well duh. But then, you’re the one who won’t say what really happened here.” Munson waggled his eyebrows in a way that was so cartoony Steve was mildly impressed a person could pull it off. 

He sighed a second time. 

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You keep saying that and you keep not trying me.” Eddie leaned against the door frame. “Come on Harrington. Two reasons.”

Steve tried.

Ran through what might convince Munson to leave it all alone. 

Figured the guy was kind of like Dustin, in that he couldn’t be too vague (because it would just intrigue him) and he couldn’t be too honest (because any idiot could see Munson would be all over some kind of government conspiracy.) 

“The fact the building might pancake on us at any moment isn't enough?" He asked, unsure if sounding desperate was the right move here (an equally unsure if he could hide it if it was.)

He’d hadn’t tried this route before--hadn’t thought Munson would go for it. 

Not when he'd waived off every other attempt Steve could think of, to stop this.

“Nah, I trust my source, this place will hold.” Munson leaned forward, deep into Steve’s space and though Steve waivered back, he let the older teen get close. “You’ve been off ever since we came in here, Harrington. I want to know why.” 

“I was in the fire. Munson. I did almost die."

He still had a bruise left to prove it.

"That ain't it and you know it."

"I don't know what else to tell you then." Steve said, angry. why was the guy making this so hard? Why couldn't he just fucking listen!?

“Not even two reasons?”

“There’s not--” Steve closed his eyes, frustrated. “I’ve given you far more than two reasons!” 

“Not any good ones.” 

“I don’t know what you want from me. "Steve admitted finally. "because I told you, you wouldn’t believe the rest of it--” 

Munson didn't let his rant pick up steam. instead he pulled himself back, interrupting Steve.

“Then down the rabbit hole we go, Alice!”

Quick as a flash he was  down the stairs and Steve bit back a curse as he rushed to follow.

“Munson--come on, wait!” He yelled back.

Eddie, of course, did no such thing. 

It took everything he had in him to rush after, but Steve did it anyway.

What else was he good for?

[naoyoki]

✦ mdni , smut , afab!reader , blasphemy , cumplay , size kink , squirting , some dub!con , two dicked + four armed thukuna , corruption kink , wet dreams , imagine thukuna w/o tattoo's in his human form .

PINNED PREVIOUSLY

incubus!sukuna works for his sustinance smarter, not harder. that is why he infiltrated the church, disguising himself as a reverend. corrupting the faithful not only gave him the vital life force that he needed, it gave him that thrilling rush of lust and mischief.

he had targeted multiple people to torment and suck on their life force during mass. but none quite came as easy as you did. incubus!sukuna was filling in for the father at the confesional booth and heard some very interesting words.

"father, forgive me for i have sinned..." the wood planks creaked and shifted beneath you as you adjusted before confessing, "i've been having immoral thoughts and dreams... particularly from one of the heads of our church. oh, please, father, forgive me!"

incubus!sukuna had a grin spread across his face, one that reached to connect with his ears. you had confessed your rampant lust for him, and sukuna did not even need to lift a finger for it!

so incubus!sukuna began to watch your dreams carefully. studying what you liked and disliked. this however, diminished his vitality since these dirty dreams didn't last too long. sukuna's fatigue increased, making it for him to strive for home and recharge his flesh and blood form. his absence disturbed you, as your heart— as well as other parts you didn't wish to disclose, missed his 'upstanding' figure.

but the more you missed incubus!sukuna, the more you called on to and invited in this supernatural entity in to your dreams.

on the outside world, one could see you toss and turn in your bed, messing up and around your sheets along with the duvet. however, in the dream-scape, it was all about a sex fest!

like a moth to a flame, incubus!sukuna got inside your dream space and went haywire on you. and oh christ, you were positively sure you're going to hell for enjoying such a good fuck from a demon.

although, in the back of your mind, you knew things were odd from this dream. 7ft tall reverend with tattoos all over his naked body, a mouth in his belly, four arms, and two dicks!?

incubus!sukuna's belly mouth tongue teased with fluttering licks around your lower back. his top dick fucked your cunt senslessly while the tip of his bottom dick stimulated your clit with every raw, hammering thrust. his massive statue allowed him to smother your lips with his own, and claim any semblance of energy you harbored to keep for himself.

his large hands held you up in the air, his grip on your legs, waist, and arm never faltering to keep you in place. but sukuna wanted to play with your disgusting lust for him. now, you could see this entity in all his wretched glory once he turned you to face him. his upper dick slipping out to give opportunity to his lower one to feel a taste of you. his red eyes trailed to your pelvis and mused once they laid on the evident bump.

"look," said incubus!sukuna, sharp canines shining through his wide smile, "see how good your pussy takes me? damn, such a good fuck!"

the sex demon pressed down on the bulge and how his cock stretched your cunt out in all the good angles. you could only exhale a string of incoherent signs of gratitude by his words. your small, helpless frame made him laugh while while cumming in and out of you!

strings of thick milky cum began to fill you up and fall onto your chest and stomach. some drops falling on to your face as well. the knot on your stomach tightened but what sent you off to the edge was how incubus!sukuna began to play and cover you further with his thick cum. opening your cunt up with his thick fingers so that his jizz oozes out from you. keeping you on the floor and tapping his cocks on your sticky body. making you cum at his mercy over and over again.

least to say, you cursed when you woke up in the morning to a damp pool of your juices and the faint smell of cooked apples and sulfur.

[shadydelusionalvoid]

I am currently on season 7 of Supernatural and Castiel hasn't been back since he FUCKING IMPLODED in the water because of the Leviathans😭 guys all i want is to see this pretty man back on screen, i miss my boy😔

Also what the actual HELL was season 6?!?!

[blooddrinkingbartender]

"I certainly will have to," Bill said, as he glanced over at Leofric, "I know he's probably got some ideas of what he can give me to at least make it go a little faster. Your eyes are starting to look somewhat clearer at least."

"Colours have come back," Leofric confirmed. His eyes weren't completely grey anymore. The sclerae were being back to completely white, but the irises were still a murky greyish-brown, and the pupils were filmy, "And while it's easier to make out people again, my surroundings are still somewhat blurred."

"Russell did say that the guy seems to hesitate to really hurt humans. He was lashing out at everyone else if they were supernatural or a human with strangers powers. As in, we're completely average humans without anything particularly remarkable about them," Travis said, "I may be buff but I am just a human, and from what I saw, he was swinging that whip sword around to try and make us retreat. Russell is fast and sneaky, but he is also just a human. That could work to our advantage."

Russell couldn't help but look at Travis in some surprise. He had voiced exactly what he was thinking.

"And you noticed it too, Custard, of course you did," Travis added, "I think you're doing great there, sports elf. Practice makes perfect as they say."

"We, we still gotta be careful though," Russell said, "Even if, if he might not want to hurt us badly, he, he could still put us to, to sleep or, or do other things if, if we're not careful. That's, that's what happened to me after all."

"Yeah, I remember that. You were all fucked up and out of it when we came looking for you," Travis said.

"I, I think if, if we're gonna face, face him again, Travis and I need to be, be up close and, and personal," Russell said.

A dirty tactic for sure, but he hadn't survived this long without using them.

"I will do that," Antonio said, "While delving into potentially traumatic memories is not a pleasant experience, I will make the process as minimally invasive as possible. Wait, sidekick? I'm the sidekick?"

But it seemed that any arguments on that matter would have to wait. Veronica had returned. Travis wasn't startled this time at least, giving Veronica a small wave.

"Oh hell yeah, I could do with some," Travis said, "Fighting bad guys and making them run away is hungry work."

"I'll, I'll help you get, get that dished out, and, and served," Russell offered then.

"Sounds like you're going to have to listen to the dogtor too."

While everybody would have to listen to her mother. Rook already dreaded whatever Veronica was putting together and there was going to be no way of escaping that.

"You know, it kinda looked like he didn't want to hit you guys either. But he was definitely spooked when he saw you!" Erica said, retrieving the glass, "I'm practicing! It's a bit hard because I'm used to doing things with my hands, but I’m doing my best."

While giving it her own spin. The shadow tentacle received a few pats for doing such a good job, before it disappeared.

"I simply did what I thought might work." Lucien replied.

He wasn't going to mention that he had hated seeing Rook being used again. It didn't make up for his own actions, but he wanted to help her get out of the hold of that horrible individual.

Lucien nodded again. "Despite our link, you'd be best suited. I wouldn't be the most gentle, you see. That wasn't something I had a chance, or interest, to practice that much."

As long as Rook was fine with it, of course. The last word was hers, though she didn't seem to mind much.

"Whatever." she grumbled, "Leave that to your sidekick, if you don't wanna do it."

Lucien smiled. She had said that, not him. He watched as Veronica appeared in the corner of the room, perhaps in an effort to not scare Travis again.

"In any case, the soup is almost ready." he continued, "Those of you not waiting to receive treatment are welcome to have some."

[isopodonanescalator]

SUPERNATURAL HOT TAKE GO

this probably isn’t a hot take but girl the final episode should’ve ended like this

Dean gets the stupid fucking rebar thing to the back and dies and we’re all sobbing and askign why it has to be THAT of all things. BUT THEN! Sam wakes up in a motel room and Heat of the Moment is playing. Dean looks way younger than he should be and, well. you know, ALIVE. he’s happily tying up his boots as he yells,"Rise and shine Sammy!" Sam, clearly confused, asks "Wait, Asia?" “Come on, you love this song and you know it!" Sam stops him before he can turn up the radio and asks "Dean, what year is it?"

[xiaobaosnoona]

Noona's 2024 Drama Wrap-up

Yeah, so don't expect me to make sense, I just need to gush my entire soul out about the dramas that kicked butt for me this year. Also gifs.

Atomic bomb of the year: The Untamed (2019)

The show that altered the chemistry of my brain completely and threw me into an obsession so serious I pulled several people down with me (you're welcome and I am sorry). A chinese fantasy drama that centers around a young man who wants to do what's right even if it costs him everything (and it does), and his soulmate who loved him through two lifetimes. Censored bl that feels zero censored because of the brilliancy and hard work of the cast and crew. Clearly a labour of love for everyone involved. Impossible to water down into a blurb, watch it and you'll understand.

Love blorbo of my life: Li Lianhua

No one else made me fall as deeply as Li Lianhua of Mysterious Lotus casebook (2023). This cynical, too clever, highly whumpable lying liar got me in a chokehold and has yet to let go. His love language is to push people away, but thankfully some people are hard to get rid of. Deserves to be lovingly wrapped in a blanket and fed chocolate until his sadness passes (or possibly forever).

The one I never thought I would love: DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise (2016-2024)

Hi, hello, what the hell happened? This show kinda took over my life and I am seriously confused (standard dmbj experience). One of the queerest shows I've ever laid my eyes on featuring one of china's most famous m/m ships; Pingxie. Filled to bursting with adventure, conspiracies, tomb shenanigans, snakes and the best character dynamics I've ever seen on the small screen. Don't expect everything to make sense, just enjoy the ride. It's a hoot.

I cried my face off because of this: Fangs of Fortune (2024)

This made me suffer from dehydration, flailing arms with feet kicking, and severe gif-making-syndrome. Stunning Chinese fantasy with characters that will unapologetically roundhouse kick you in the heart. Repeatedly. Very queer and doesn't even try not to be. Did I say stunning? The cinematography and costumes are so fucking beautiful that this alone brings tears to your eyes. Just watch it, I can't possibly explain what it's about without starting to cry again.

Has a dear and special place in my heart: Oh no! Here comes trouble (2023)

So well written I want to chug vinegar because I didn't write it myself. Some of the best character dynamics known to man, fantastic stories told with a supernatural twist and (you guessed it) queer vibes that will smack you in the face. Has a wonderfully dumb and grumpy ml that will make you love him unconditionally in a very short amount of time. The drama deals with heavy topics, like grief and abuse, and balances it out delicately with ridiculousness and humour.

Favorite BL: History 3: trapped (2019)

The cutest little twink police falls in love with the mob boss he's been trying to catch for four years. Adorable low-spicy Taiwanese bl that utilizes the often seen het-romance drama tropes in a low key hilarious and endearing way. Enemies to lovers? Uhuh. Grumpy/sunshine? Mhm. Catch the love interest in your arms as they trip and fall? Yup. Everything wrapped in soft romantic lighting as you stare into each other's eyes? Yesss. And do i love it? FUCK YEAH. Actually does have a pretty solid plot as well, which made it a real home run for me.

Underrated gem: 19th Floor (2024)

A less queer version of Spirealm (but watch me try and find every queer crumb in it if it kills me). Got me on the edge of my seat most of the time, had characters I loved dearly with great development, adorable bromance with cheek smooches, and het-romance that didn't make me want to scratch my face off. FL kicks serious ass and is allowed to be unapologetically herself throughout the whole show. Also this show has Bai Shu and that is always a win.

[ray935sworld]

What if he had been honest? (Chapter 1: Cuddles)

Established rosquez

What if SPN Motogp AU

27.12 winter writing

This is technically a WHAT IF AU to Valentino Rossi's academy of supernatural riders, but it is not necessary to have read the first part (I mean I'm happy if you do/ did but you're gonna get the story without it) The main difference is that Vale told Marc about him being a werewolf during his ranch visit in 2014 which caused their fallout to never happen.

A scratch on the door made Marc turn his eyes from his phone to the door. He watched it slide open but no one entered. At least no visible person but he heard steps.

4 at a time.

He grinned, when only a second later the big head of a wolf appeared infront of him.

"Hello my love" the Spaniard said as he petted the space next to him. He watched the large wolf quickly jump next to him on the bed and made his way over to him.

He stepped in between his legs and let himself fall down, which caused Marc to laugh. The wolf then dropped his head on Marc chest, squeezing his body around his laps. The weight felt like a blanket. The man immediately reached for his boyfriend and started to caress his head.

He was just typing a message to Alex, telling him about their weekend plans before sending a quick good might message. He knew his boyfriend well enough that he was knew that it wasn't good when Vale turned into a wolf to get cuddled.

Especially now that it got close between him and Lorenzo for the 2015 championship.

As soon as he was finished he put his mobile to the side and layed down flat on the bed. Both his hands went around his head and started to pet him. Vale had put his head on chest and had taken his place on top of him.

He closed his eyes when Marc kissed his forehead. "Hey my sweet, sweet love" he whispered. He felt him shiver. He heard him whine as he pressed closer. He was clearly in distress. He wasn't alright.

Slightly scared, Marc pulled him closer. It felt like he was cuddling an oversized puppy rather than a wolf that had been deemed dangerous by any others mind.

"You know how much I love you, right?" he asked slightly pulling his head up. He made Vale look at him. Not because he actually needed to look at him but because Vale had to look at him. He had to look at Marc's eyes and see that there was no anger or hate. There was only love.

"Please... I love you so much, Vale... There's no one beside you that could came even close to you... So no matter what's going on, I know we can deal with it. We will manage. Okay? You're amazing. You're the most perfect human on -"

A whine interrupted him. Long and loud. Deep and clean. Hurt. Marc knew since the ranch visit 2014 about his boyfriends secret. Since then he had been pretty good at detaching and understanding the signs he showed him as a wolf. That was clearly hurt.

He froze and stared at him for a moment. He needed a few seconds to recall the situation. He was talking. He had tried to comfort him, shower him in love. What had triggered his hurt? But there was nothing, except maybe...

Oh.

Human.

"Wait is... Oh Vale" he hugged him closer and pressed another kiss to his forehead. "I don't give a fuck if you're a wolf or a human or whatever. I love you regardless. And I love your whole bunch of kids with weird tricks even if they sometimes scare the living shit out of me"

He felt Vale puff. It was like a mixture between a laugh and being offended. Marc decided that was a food sign.

"I'm being serious. I love you too much to care. Even if you'd be a wolf forever with no trace of humanity left, I would still do anything to keep you safe and I'd love you for the rest of my life. I'd make you the perfect forest and make sure you're always fed and warm... I'd get the boys to visit you and I'd be there to play with you whenever I'm around."

He slide more on the matratze and was now laying completly on his back, scratching Vale's ear as he spoke.

"You're the love of my life. I would let you go if that's what'd make you happy as a wolf and I would make this house wolf proof if you want to stay... And I would let you change me if you want to-"

He couldn't continue when a wolf tongue was dragged across his face. He couldn't help but laugh. He had already expected something like this. Marc knew that changining him was something he refused to do.

He didn't want him to be a werewolf. Vale wanted him to be safe from hunters and those that attacked the non humans. He wanted him to never feel the pain of a change or the twitch of tbe wolf underneath the skin in your every day life. He didn't want to risk anything separating Marc and Alex. Not when he knew how difficult it could be.

But Marc would do it. For him. If it meant being with him, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Yeah..." he agreed with the wolves protest. "Yes I know. I know, Vale you don't like the idea. But please understand... I can't - I will always want to be as close to you as somehow possible. Even if that means being a wolf. No, actually being a wolf seems like a small price if that means I can be with you."

Vale gave him another wolves kiss. "I know... I love you too" soon after that, they fell asleep

[cyborg-squid]

Just finished watching Nosferatu (2024), and one of the really interesting things about it is how it layers like multiple aspects of vampire 'history', from the original 1922 film to Bram Stoker's Dracula, and, it seems, to even early vampire myths. And the thing about the Dracula similarities, and this is odd to type out, but it's almost like they pared down some of the action-adventure elements from Dracula in favor of more horror elements, which is typically the opposite in book-to-movie adaptations. Gone is cowboy Quincey and the hyper-competent Van Helsing, replaced instead with an occult obsessed (yet still empathetic to the female lead's plight) Willem Dafoe (what do you mean that's not the character's name?!). No horse chases after Dracula's carriage in the Carpathian mountains either, which is good because that would have felt very out of place in this movie. Just very interesting to look and go "Oh yeah, huh, the book was the one with more action than the movie."

It also extends a lot more empathy towards it's female lead, Ellen, than I feel Dracula was to both Lucy and Mina, though since it's been a while since I read it, I may be wrong on those accounts. The most striking difference is the death of the vampire, and how in the book, Mina is on the brink of being turned and it is the combat efforts of the men that lay low the vampire, while in Nosferatu (2024), it is Ellen that kills Orlock, albeit at the cost of her own life, utilizing the connection that awoke him in the first place, and turning his own lust against him, keeping him away from his grave-earth until the sun comes up. And it's a little bit of a tricky read on the themes here for me, since she does unfortunately sacrifice herself to kill him and it was this supernatural 'thing' shes had since birth that woke him in the first place, this could read as a typical (of the time of Dracula and the 1922 Nosferatu) sort of 'complaint against woman sensuality and irresponsibility' of the time, but Ellen within the movie is consistently portrayed as a victim of Orlock's rather than his enticer, as he and others claim. She too confesses her own impurity and has that claim refuted by her husband (who is less interesting that Dracula's Johnathan), who himself has also been rendered 'impure' by Orlock's sexual assault of him. And her strengths are recognized by Dafoe, who on first meeting her rejects some of the methods used by not-Seward, like binding the limbs while sleeping and the heavy use of ether, which would have been rather common methods of the time (Europe in 1838) for subduing disorderly women, and it is he who does believe and validate her claims of a darker power at work, rather than mere melancholy or hysteria as others initially thought. And he recognizes that the men in the story are not, physically or supernaturally, capable of killing Orlock and that it must be Ellen and her unique connection who does it, but it is as a sacrifice, and that is where the tricky part lies. Because while it does have Ellen finally switching from prey to predator, from victim to victor, it is at the cost of her own life, and I don't like the idea of her mistake as a youth (which resulted in Orlock's pursuit of her) only being rectifiable through her death. But then on the other hand, this is a horror story, and frankly there is no way it could have had a 'better' ending.

As a side note, and this complaint really isn't with the movie itself, because it is a good movie. And that's all it needs to be. But it almost like... didn't need to come out in the modern day, if that makes sense? Like, to have trailers and a Christmas Day release date and a coffin shaped popcorn bucket and 1 million cast interviews, all that shit is unnecessary and doesn't really suit the movie that it is, though I can hardly blame the director and the other artists involved with it for that.

Also, I love this dumb fucking headline about the movie: me when I'm a fucking idiot who doesn't get it. Real "point and laugh mockingly" at it hours. fucking lol

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[brunchcorpse]

I think its absolutely hilarious that Dean and Castiel go through inhuman amounts of trauma over the course of a decade plus, and somehow they still arent the human x angel ship on the show that has gone through the most detrimental mind bending shit. Michael and Adam were literally trapped in hell together alone for over 1000 years and they walked out the other side healthier than Dean and Cas could ever possibly be. Iconic really

[claraoswalds]

It's racist, my dear, to be blunt. People come from outside, they think we're all witches and druids. For God's sake, child, you walked into a piece of string!

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

[marypsue]

Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.

However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.

[lightcantrips]

so i started rewatching supernatural

[incesthemes]

seriously do they even hear themselves

[wombpala]

no bc Dean doesn't even actually like sex that much. he is uncomfortably hypersexual in a way that makes me think sex for him is: compulsive, performative, a method of disassociation, an attempt to feel control over his own sexuality and the way he's perceived, a box to check before going on with his day. card carrying hedonist who doesn't even LIKE it.