Jezapoof talks too much @jezapoof - Tumblr Blog

Stuff to read or whatever

Uh, so I'm still not sure how Tumblr works or what I'm supposed to post, but here's my AO3. It's a lot of smut, a lot of crack, and some heavy angst and fluff for variety. Also comments and kudos are what sustain me. If you were wondering. https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezapoof/works

#destiel #ao3 #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

destielaureversebb

Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “until the day i die”

Author: @duckyboos Artist: @stonelions

Rating: Explicit Archive warnings: None Length: 60,000 words Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Found Family Relationships: Dean/Castiel

Summary:

After a decade-and-a-half living in each other’s pockets, touring in cramped vans, and songwriting in cheap motel rooms, bandmates Dean and Cas have mastered Not Talking About It, letting the music say what they can’t. They’ve spent years blurring the lines between best friends and soulmates, pouring their tangled emotions into tracks that fans scream back at them.

But their latest tour is a different beast. With sold-out venues, media scrutiny, and the suffocating proximity of life on the road, tensions reach breaking point. One late night, one too-close-to-the-bone song, and one reckless touch forces them to confront their feelings, risking the band they built for the love they’ve always suppressed.

Excerpt:

“You are so fucking obtuse,” Cas says, like he’s delivering a verdict: ‘I sentence you, Dean Winchester, to being a dumb motherfucker for thirty-seven years’. “Like, actually genuinely dense. Were you dropped on your head as a baby or are you just this committed to missing the point?”

Dean’s jaw clicks shut. The silence that stretches tight between them is a wire pulled to its breaking point, underscored by Social Distortion vibrating through the walls from the club outside.

“Right,” he says, the word hollow even to his own ears. He’s got fuck-all else to come back at Cas with, and he knows it — he’s bringing a rusty spoon to a gunfight. “I’d forgotten what a bitch you are. That’s on me, I apologize.”

“Fuck you, Dean,” Cas responds, his voice dangerously level. “Or, well, I guess not, because you’re a coward. You’d rather pretend that this is about a girl I wasn't even interested in than acknowledge that the only person I wanted to leave with was you. You’d rather burn this whole thing to the ground than admit that we’re already something.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t,” Cas cuts him off, eyes steely. If looks could kill, Dean would already be deep-sixed. “Don’t you dare insult my intelligence by saying we’re ‘just friends’—” He hooks his fingers in the air, a sharp, mocking version of the ridiculous air quotes he always does. “—or ‘just fucking.’ Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me. And people who are ‘just fucking’ don’t act this terrified of losing it.”

Posting date: March 27, 2026

warpedwings

Misha Collins - Glimpses of Skin, Part Ten: The Pink Shirt at SPN Chicago, September 2025

📷: [1]-[5] FryingPanPrince [2]-[4]-[6]-[7]-[9]MysticPhotos [3]Angela [8]Fangasm

Chest Hair and Tummy and Hips, Oh My! I've posted all but the first one before, but I know I'm not the only one who hasn't gotten over the pink shirt panel.

Glimpses One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

monsteroftheweekpodcast

👽For Jeremy 👽

I just wanted to share an update and some words about Jeremy. This will be posted across multiple podcast feeds, so I apologize for the duplicate uploads.

patheticfangirl

Schlocktober: A Fake Event Where Anything Goes

While other people are out here dropping Kinktober prompt lists with 9000 stipulations, I bring you this.

It's not a real October event, but it could be if you believe. The prompts are here for anyone to enjoy anyway.

Why "schlock"?

It means trash/junk, and that's the quality of content I'm striving for with these prompts. It's also fun to say.

But, y'know, if you want to take a prompt and turn it into a masterpiece of a whumpy longfic, go for it.

What fandom is this for?

Whatever fandom you want.

What ships can I write/draw?

Any of them.

Even [my fandom's most despised ship]?

Especially [your fandom's most despised ship].

What if I want to combine prompts? What if I want to write or draw things out of order? What if...

Go for it.

Are crossovers okay?

Do. Whatever. You. Want.

What if I want to create something problematic?

Send me the fucking link.

What does [prompt] mean?

You tell me. It's all open to interpretation.

Are there any rules at all?

Sure.

No AI use. If you need an LLM to write your schlock for you, consider a long walk off a short pier. If you need it to do your editing for you, use a beta reader instead. A stick figure drawn on the back of a napkin is better than soulless AI art.

Tag appropriately. 'Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings' means anything goes. 'No Archive Warnings Apply' means your work is guaranteed not to contain any of the major archive warnings (non-con, major character death, graphic violence, or underage sex).

No irl bigotry. Your characters can be problematic as all get out, but if you try to post a weird pro-JK Rowling essay or something you're not going in the collection, bud. Don't kill the vibes.

What are the vibes?

Just have fun.

But other people are having fun wrong!

Shut the fuck up.

Are you going to be doing this?

Probably not.

How do I participate?

There's an ao3 collection right here:

Schlocktober on ao3

Otherwise, just hashtag #schlocktober or something, idk. I don't expect anyone to actually do this.

Text version of the prompts under the cut.

bitchycode

me after every conversation: shit they’ll never wanna talk to me again

nitewrighter

Me: I don't get it. I thought I was doing a lot better than I was a few years ago. I'm like 10 times more on top of things than I used to be. How does everything feel terrible now?

The Tiny Me in OSHA-approved Hi-Vis Gear Who lives in my brain and pulls all the levers: Boss, it's the fascism. You're completely gunked up with cortisol due to the fact that your entire daily life is now underscored with a haunting awareness of the rapid erosion of your rights, dignity, and any and all social safety nets, and you're also bearing witness to the most vulnerable people immediately being persecuted. This creates a natural stress response that basically means you're going to continue having memory and organizational problems, as well as emotional imbalances.

Me: BUT I HAVE A BULLET JOURNAL AND I MEDITATE NOW.

Tiny OSHA Me: BOSS, THE FASCISM.

depsidase

charlesoberonn

Because we don't teach history right.

We teach history like it's a work of fiction where the characters act the way they do because they were written that way. And not like the real world with real people who were just as human as us and had reasons to act the way they do. And that the same mistakes and foibles they had could happen to us too.

And even this history is woefully undertaught. People learn it to memorize the events of the story and then forget about it. They don't learn to comprehend it, they don't learn to learn from it.

justalittlespore

This will be a long story, but settle in, because this is important.

I was fortunate enough to have some great teachers growing up, in a small, fairly well-funded school system (and during times when everyone still agreed that fascism was bad). In 8th grade, our school had an interdisciplinary unit for about a month focusing solely on the Holocaust. Every class taught something related to it, even math. For a month, we read horrifying stories and watched documentaries and did research assignments on the Holocaust. By the end, any one of us would have said we were experts on the subject.

And at the very end, our entire grade (about 100 kids) was broken into four groups, and we were told that as a reward for all our hard work on the Holocaust unit, we were going to compete for a trip to Disney World. Only one team could go, but the entire team would get to travel there and spend a few days in the park, all expenses paid.

The competition was simple: the group with the most team spirit would win. We were instructed to come up with a team name, a catchy slogan, and a logo (something simple and easy to draw). We were allowed to prove our team spirit however we wanted. That was it. That was all of the instructions. The competition would last a week, and short of stopping physical violence, the teachers stepped back and let us have at it.

It was terrifying.

At first, everyone just hung up posters in the halls and cheerfully recited their slogan whenever the teachers were watching. Within a few days, posters were being torn down and shredded. Verbal fights were breaking out in the hallways. It wasn't enough to say your team was the best, everyone had somehow decided. You also had to prove that everyone else's team was inferior. People started making up lies and gossip, saying that everyone in a particular group was lazy or ugly or smelly or what have you (we were 13). Slurs were thrown around. (Again, we were 13.)

By the final day, the groups were marching down the halls in formation, shouting their slogan in unison. Shouting slander against the other groups. The floor was covered in tattered paper.

I was shy and introverted and weird and unpopular and mostly stayed out of it. But those images are burned into my memory. These kids had turned into vicious monsters, all for a stupid school project.

The teachers had us march down the hallway to the auditorium to announce the results of the competition. The groups were little armies now. Most students marched in lockstep, shouting their slogans. We were seated together in our groups. The teachers dimmed the lights, quieted us down, and the teacher in charge of this whole project said that before he announced the winners, he had something to share with us about the person who was responsible for this entire competition. He turned on the projector and displayed a portrait of Hitler.

Everyone lost their minds. Kids were booing and throwing things. We knew that Hitler was a Bad Guy.

The teacher calmed us back down, and then explained that there was no trip to Disney World, and the fact that not one student questioned for a moment that such a massively expensive and complicated prize would be granted for such a silly competition was honestly kind of disappointing. This entire week, he said, was our final exam. The final exam for the Holocaust unit.

We had spent a month learning about this. About how this "bad guy" inspired a whole hell of a lot of people to march in lockstep shouting slogans and plastering their symbol all over everything. That one bad guy had told them that they were special, and other groups were trying to take away what was rightfully theirs for being the best, and they ultimately got extremely violent. We had learned all about the Hitler Youth and the SS and book burnings and, of course, the concentration camps. We'd all read the Diary of Anne Frank. We'd been marinating in this information for a month, in all of our classes.

But we hadn't learned. We hadn't really understood what they were trying to teach us. Not that this happened. But that this happens. It can happen very easily, especially if people aren't watching out for it.

The kids were furious. They shouted that this wasn't fair, that we were only following instructions. The teachers had lied to us. They had told us to do this, and now they were mad at us for following directions?

He was ready for this, of course. Calming us back down again, he pointed out that all they'd done is tell us to give ourselves a name, a slogan, a symbol, and demonstrate "team spirit." That was literally it. No one told us to rip posters down. No one told us to march in the hallways. No one told us to spread rumors and shout insults. No one told us to fight each other.

They didn't have to.

All it takes to get people to behave this way is to tell them that their group is special, they deserve good things, but the good things aren't there because those other people are taking them from you.

The Nazis were not uniquely evil people. They were just encouraged to demonstrate their team spirit. And there were no teachers to stop it from getting violent. Because the person encouraging them wanted things to get violent.

The Holocaust was not the story of Hitler the Bad Guy. He was there, and he was responsible for a lot, but that wasn't the point. Germany during the Holocaust wasn't suddenly, by total accident, full of evil people.

It was just full of people like us.

This time, it just was a lie about Disney World and a week of chaos. But if we didn't watch out, the next time fascism started to rise, we would get swept up on the wrong side of it. We had just proven that we would. We'd be too swept up in making sure that our special group got the prize they deserved to notice that we were being lied to about the prize in the first place.

That could happen. If we weren't careful. If we forgot the lesson we'd just learned.

After he'd let the horror and shame and embarrassment and indignation of that week sink in properly, he reassured us that it wasn't our fault. The point wasn't for us to prove that we understood the lesson of the Holocaust. It wasn't actually a test after all, it was our final lesson. The most important lesson.

He'd known that this test would go this way, because it always did. He did this every year. He said in all his years of teaching, only one student, one student, had ever questioned it. Pulled him aside in the hallway and said straightforwardly that whatever was going on was messed up and he wanted no part of it.

And you know what? That is how you teach history. You give students the facts of what happened. And then you show them how easily it can happen again.

Sadly, most schools don't have the resources for this sort of thing, and these days they'd probably not be allowed to run this little experiment. But I'm extremely grateful to that teacher, grateful that I was part of that experience. It was harrowing, and it made me and a lot of other people vigilant for the rest of my life in a way I know I would not have been otherwise.

It was over 35 years ago now and it still makes me emotional to think about.

Most people never got to have that experience, to properly learn that lesson. But at least I can pass the story on to you. And you can pass it on to others. Because if you think you would have acted differently, that you would have seen through the ruse, think again.

comicgeekscomicgeek

Teaching history requires such a broad high level picture of trends and an up close look at specific events and the ability to weave the two together that it’s no wonder we come up short.

paininmyassachusetts

A hitman who advertises his services the way a commission artist does

paininmyassachusetts

“Um hey guys. I’ve been hit pretty hard with financial difficulty lately. I’d really appreciate it if you’d consider commissioning me.”

the-mighty-birdy-deactivated202

Stabbings: $45

Gunshots: $100

Poisonings: $200

Thanks you guys please share if you can! ❤️❤️❤️

rabbits-of-negative-euphoria

Commissions I will NOT take:

👎 Kids (Teens are fine tho)

👎 Bystanders

👎 Other Hitmen

If you want to know why, message me, but otherwise no hate pls ✨

jelloapocalypse

hey guys, normally i try to keep drama off of my blog but this is really important. I just wanted to let you know that someone named WetWorkKing05 has been taking credit for MY kills over on redbloodle.com and is making money off of my hard work. When I messaged him directly he blocked me and threatened to kill ME >_> I’ve tried talking with the mods about getting his account taken down, but redbloodle has NO policy for this and they are no help at all. i don’t know what to do??

PLS signal boost if you can! And in the meantime, if you need somebody killed, do NOT hire WetWorkKing05! he is a THIEF!

jelloapocalypse

repeat after me:

MURDER 👏 THEFT 👏 IS 👏 A 👏 WORSE 👏 CRIME 👏 THAN 👏 REGULAR 👏 MURDER 👏

uncklerman

Credits to the murderer

vashito

“Why are your prices so high???? I could kill him myself for free! whatever, ur not even that good at murder anyway”

alertmode

Emergency Murder Slots available!

First Person - $450, additional bodies add $375 each

(Basically a steal still my normal rate is $650. Cmon guys it’s $200 off!)

Serious inquiries only. EXPOSURE IS NOT A CURRENCY!

klubbhead

Guys please support all these hardworking Individuals!

Good hitmen are hard to find so it’s up to us to raise awareness!!!!

slumberinggirl-deactivated20210

Omg I love this guy’s work! He’s new and not so well known in the hitman community, but he’s so amazing and is appreciate it if you guys have him some love ❤️❤️

thatquietkid108

Support your local assassins

victusinveritas

author’s notes today: hey guys so just a warning there isn’t 100% explicit verbal consent even though they’re both really into it so remember this is FICTION, also they don’t use a condom :((( but in real life safe sex is important!!! please be safe out there everyone

a/n back in the day: kept thinking about ____ stabbing knives through both of _____’s hands to pin him in place while they fucked so here you go lol =P

fromcainwithlove

just saw a fic with the ‘age gap’ tag and the author’s notes explained that the characters were 20 and 24. none of you will ever know salvation.

violue

it still freaks me right out the way some groups of people went so woke they somehow swung around back to puritanism

WHO EVEN KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE

mandywondering

ndiecity-deactivated20241101

OOHHHHH sopranos like the singers

ladyfeets-deactivated20211019

HBO’s Sopranos: hark at the ducks 🦆 give zero fucks 🦆 in Tony’s pool 🦆 pasta fazool 🍝

altos: bada biNg 🔫 bada boOm 🔫 bada biNg 🔫 bada boOm 🔫

lierdumoa

Few facts that need correcting here. “Carol of the Bells” is a newer arrangement of an ancient Ukranian folk melody called Shchedryk [wikipedia]. The alto line actually does sound quite haunting if you sing it with the Ukranian lyrics (which have nothing to do with bells or Christmas) instead of the obnoxious “ding dong” English lyrics that Wilhousky wrote in 1936: