Title? What title?

Previously an Spn only account, now including a bunch of fandoms, especially MDZS and SVSSS and just random shit Still Destiel obsessed and loving it, now with more tears.

[androfembot]

note to self: do NOT double the chocolate chip cookie recipe. the mixer can’t handle it. I can’t handle it. my knees hurt. I’ve been rotating cookie sheets since I was born and I will be rotating cookie sheets until I die

[androfembot]

help

[alder-knight]

[theanishimori]

The perfect reaction gif does not exi—

[bucketofli]

Angel on his shoulder how sweet I’m crying

[shuravf]

-Who's the most fun teacher of the whole Jianghu???!!

-MR. WEI STOP! PLEASE!!!

[katestewartt]

"Try our new AI tool", "Use ChatGPT", "Our AI assistant can help"

[dogs99999]

I literally love being at home! In my own space! Comfortable! Not surrounded by people!

[wisedo]

LQG is like an iceberg, only a small fraction of his emotions is visible to the human eye

[kimtaegis]

JIMIN BTS THE COMEBACK | ARIRANG

[starvulture]

Collecting these rn

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

Happiness Will Come To You.

[12goblins]

when tho

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

When You Least Expect It. Probably Late March

[wizardshark]

reblog for happiness to come for you in late march!

[zigxortega]

[zac--efren]

I reblogged this last year and I hung out with blink-182 backstage on March 30. Reblogging again because it worked the first time.

[scientiablr]

honestly, last year one of the best days of my life happened in late March

[mishha]

five things you know and the one thing you don’t. [insp]

[wisedo]

And that was liushen in 2 minutes!

[paradoxial-cunt]

[bog-goblin]

[bog-goblin]

[i-am-a-fish]

[sirlancenotalot]

[mxtxfanatic]

when it comes to neurodivergency, it presents itself in different ways. so i'm curious how you determine whether a character is being stereotyped or genuinely shows neurodivergency?

for example, lwj is often seen as autistic because he struggles with communication, relies on routines for control/grounding, dislikes stimulation and uses rules to guide his sense of justice/righteousness even if the rules can be wrong.

My take is that a character isn’t neurodivergent unless it’s creator says so somewhere, even if fans really identify with said character as autistic. If the creator has confirmed made that character autistic, then whether it’s a good presentation or not depends on if the character is written as a person with their own logic, feelings, personality, and interiority, or if they’re only personality trait is The Autistic One™️.

My take on Lan Wangji, specifically, is that all those things you listed are made up. A bunch of people who decided “quiet person” = “autistic” started “headcanoning” these traits to justify what’s just literal stereotyping. Not only is Lan Wangji not autistic, his behavior and personality are pretty damn average once you return to the real world outside of the fandom bubble.

[oneeyedoctogod]

This made me laugh honestly because I'm sorry anon but literally all the arguments you use to justify the autistic!lwj headcanon are disproved by canon.

"He struggles with communication": he's quiet yes, but he's also said to be one of the best at debates in the cultivation world, able to decimate his opponents with just a few words. The few times we see him struggle with his words, he's usually flustered or drunk, which can make anyone lose their words.

"He relies on routine to ground himself": okay so first off, not so friendly reminder that plenty of neurodivergent people rely on routine to ground themselves, not just autistic people. But also nowhere does it say that lwj uses his own routine to "ground himself". He's part of the Lan clan so he follows its routine. Are all members of the Lan clan autistic?

"He dislikes stimulation": is this related to him disliking the symposiums and other reunions of the clans? Cause given the nest of vipers that it always is, it's pretty understandable that he dislikes them. Also again, disliking big crowds isn't a trait solely reserved for autistic people.

"He uses rules to justify his sense of justice even when they’re wrong": yes, that's why every time he's faced with an unfair rule he doesn't hesitate to break it. I mean idk what to tell you anon, maybe reread the part where he broke the rules when he was six? Or when he was whipped because he defended Wei Wuxian against his own clan? Most of the time he follows the rules because he doesn't find them constricting (they certainly didn't prevent him helping the regular people during the war for example) but when they do, he's very much willing to break them and is never shown regretting it.

[neo--queen--serenity]

Liu Qingge: *tries to be supportive when Luo Binghe "dies"* Liu Qingge: *gives Shen Qingqiu spiritual energy regularly to combat Without A Cure* Liu Qingge: *publicly defends Shen Qingqiu when his reputation is slandered* Liu Qinnge: *searches for Shen Qingqiu when he goes missing so that he can bring him home safely* Shen Qingqiu: *appears out of nowhere, public enemy no.1, no explanation for his actions whatsoever, screaming at the top of his lungs* LIU!!!!!! QINGGE!!!!!! Liu Qingge: *flies to Shen Qingqiu's side so quickly he knocks another man off his sword with his momentum alone* what do you want

[jenanigans1207]

“What about angels?” Dean turns his gaze to Cas over the rim of his beer bottle.

“What about them?” Cas answers, his gaze unwavering as ever as it meets Dean’s steadily from his spot in the chair next to Dean.

“Do they have any, y’know?” Dean gestures vaguely in the air with the hand that isn’t holding his beer.

Cas sighs. “No, Dean, I don’t know.”

Dean suspects that isn’t actually true. Cas has been good at reading Dean like an open book and to filth equally and simultaneously practically since the moment they met and he has never had any qualms about stating Dean’s unspoken truths if he felt it was necessary, no matter how Dean felt about it. So he certainly would be able to follow the thought process Dean had followed to jump from their previous topic to this one. But sometimes Cas just liked to fuck with Dean, and other times he liked to force Dean to communicate clearly, despite them both being on the same page and knowing it.

“Mating rituals.” Dean supplies because it becomes clear that whether Cas knew what he meant or not, he wasn’t going to offer anything further to this conversation unless Dean started it.

“You’re asking about angel mating rituals?” Cas asks with enough surprise that Dean briefly thinks that maybe he really didn’t know.

“Well,” Dean shrugs and takes a long draw of his beer. “Yeah.”

Cas’s gaze turns curious as it pierces into Dean, and he looks like he would love to probe around in Dean’s head for some sort of explanation. “Angels don’t—“

“Wait!” Dean cuts him off before he gets a chance to answer. “I want to guess.” He swirls the remaining half of the beer around in his bottle while he thinks before snapping a finger and pointing it at Cas. “I bet you’re like peacocks! You fluff your feathers up all big and do some dorky dance.”

The look on Cas’s face is priceless— somewhere between shocked and incredulous and Dean wants to commit it to memory forever. “No, Dean.”

“Damn.” Dean mumbles, reclining in his seat. “What about a nest? Do you build nests for your mates? Not with like twigs and shit, obviously, but— I dunno, pillows or blankets or something?”

“I believe that’s called a pillow fort.” Cas supplies dryly.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Dean taps a finger along the edge of his beer bottle, the condensation cool against his fingertip. “Find a shiny rock and gift that to them? Or like, a pretty piece of glass or something?”

Cas’s expression has turned long-suffering. “Are you going to compare me to every feathered creature you know?”

“Yeah,” Dean doesn’t even try to hide his own self-satisfied amusement. “If you give me long enough.”

Dean tries to think of anything that he can actually picture Cas doing. Because yeah, Cas likes shiny rocks and pretty glass as much as anybody does just because they’re nice to look at, but he doesn’t seem overly affected by them. And yeah, when he naps, he’s been known to find the softest and coziest blanket to curl up with, but that’s just smart. Dean has never seen Cas’s wings, so that’s a fifty-fifty shot, he supposes, but he’s also never seen Cas dance and can’t even picture it in his head.

“Well, allow me to spare us a long— though very enlightening, I’m sure— conversation.” Cas’s glare is unimpressed but it slides right off Dean while barely even drawing his attention. “Angels don’t have mating rituals because angels don’t mate.”

That stops all of Dean’s thoughts short. He turns his gaze back to Cas, surprised to find that Cas has turned to stare absently at one of the bookshelves in the room.

“They don’t?” Dean asks after the silence stretches thin between them.

“No.” Cas answers. And though his response is firm, it’s not mean or cold. “Angels don’t know love, Dean. At least, not romantic love. The only sort of love an angel is meant to feel is the sort of holy love for our father and his creations. The idea of romance doesn’t exist in heaven or to angels at all. There’s no need for mating rituals when mating isn’t something that would ever occur to or appeal to an angel.”

Dean thinks about this for a long time, the rim of his beer bottle pressed against his lower lip but he doesn’t take a sip.

In general, Dean has no problem believing that angels don’t love. In general, angels are selfish dicks and he can’t imagine any of them caring about anything other than themselves. In general, angels would never put someone before themselves in a way that’s required for both platonic and romantic love. But in more specific terms—

Well there is one angel who wears a trench coat and a tie that matches his eyes. There’s an angel who fell from heaven for the love of humanity. There’s an angel who has bled for love, died for love, given up everything that love is supposed to mean to an angel and completely rewritten the definition. There is an angel that has spent the better part of a decade looking at Dean in a way that he doesn’t look at anyone else, making Dean’s toes curl in his boots with the intensity of it.

“But…” the gears are turning as Dean tries to refocus his gaze on Cas. Cas isn’t looking directly at him, but Dean knows that Cas is watching him in his periphery, gauging Dean’s reaction without looking like he’s putting a significant amount of weight into it. “That’s not true.”

“Dean, I am quite certain that I know more about angels than you do.” Cas remarks.

Dean doesn’t rise to the bite of the comment. “But you love.” He says instead.

“Of course, I love humanity and the Earth very much.” Cas answers reasonably.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “I know.” And then, “but I mean romantically.”

“Dean—“

“Don’t you?” Dean challenges.

Cas doesn’t answer the question directly. “I am not a very good angel.”

“You’re the only good one.” Dean replies quickly and easily, with every ounce of sincerity he has.

Because Cas is the only good Angel. Cas is the only one who gets it, who cares, who actually wants what’s best for the world.

Cas is also the only one who can make Dean’s stomach squirm the way it does whenever he’s at Dean’s side. He’s the only one who makes Dean feel safe, the only one Dean trusts. He’s the only one Dean would ever trust or picture a future with. He’s the only one who makes Dean’s fingertips tremble, his heart stumble, his throat dry.

Granted, he’s the only person who does any of that for Dean, Angel or not.

“You think too highly of me.” Cas says before sipping his own beer that he had been nursing for the majority of the conversation.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Dean hedges.

Because— yeah, okay, Dean isn’t stupid. He sees his own feelings reflected in Cas’s eyes when Cas looks at him. He understands what it means when Cas steps closer to him, or gives up an entire goddamn army for him. Dean can be slow on the uptake with emotional shit, but he’s not that slow. And it probably helps that he sees it so clearly because he feels it so clearly in his own heart.

He knows the yearning, the longing, the desire. He knows all the fantasies of the happy-ever-after, all the filthier fantasies that fill up the days in between. He knows what it’s like to want to cling to Cas, to desperately plead with him to never leave Dean’s side. He knows the agony of their separation as acutely as possible. He gets it.

And he also knows why this has never happened, why neither of them have ever crossed that line, even though they’ve never even dared to hint at its existence before. Because he knows that what they would have— that would be forever. It would be ruinous in the most beautiful way, burning down everything around them and blazing a path to eternity. And for so many goddamn years, forever and eternity were in danger. For so many years, a future of any goddamn length was in danger.

What would be the point of starting something meant to last forever when forever didn’t exist? It hurt like enough of a bitch every time Dean lost Cas and he didn’t know if that was the last time he’d ever see him. If he’d lost his forever then, too, instead of just his best friend— well, what the hell reason would he have had to keep fighting? It was self preservation in its barest form, the knowledge that they could only keep going if they kept apart. Because that would keep them fighting, keep them determined to reach the day where forever was finally secured and they could fall into each other without reservations.

And, well, Dean hadn’t killed Chuck, but he had taken the bastard off the board so forever was well and truly theirs if they wanted it.

And Dean wanted it.

He wanted it so bad he almost didn’t know how to have it.

Cas is staring back at Dean now, seeming to go through the same mental calculations that Dean is going through. Dean just hopes that Cas has any idea how to reach out and grab the one thing they both want.

Cas takes a breath, sets his beer down.

“Yes.” He answers simply. “I do.”

Dean swallows against a dry throat. “So?” He prompts. “What’s your big game plan? You get to make up any mating ritual you want.”

“You know,” Cas says offhandedly. “If I tell you my big ‘game plan’, as you call it, you will have to give me feedback on it. How else am I meant to know if it would work?”

Dean licks his bottom lip. “I’m being trusted to approve the first ever angel mating ritual?” He aims for lighthearted, even though he can feel his pulse in his fingertips. “Lay it on me.”

“Well,” Cas doesn’t sound as nervous as Dean feels, even though he knows that he doesn’t really have any reason to feel that way. “I was thinking that I would start with the classic spark— maybe have multiple, raining down.”

Dean chokes on half of a disbelieving laugh.

“Then I would spend about, oh, over a decade at his side, always coming when he called and leaving when he got sick of me. I would try very, very hard to navigate his boundaries and I would be unsuccessful.” Cas’s smile is wry. “I would betray him a time or two.”

“Keep him guessing.” Dean says, the smile clear in his voice.

“Exactly.” Cas is smiling more genuinely now. “I would probably die for him a few times, too. Maybe even accidentally start a family with him.”

Dean has set his own beer down now. “You gotta add in some, like, intense eye contact, or something.”

“And no personal space.” Cas agrees with a nod.

Dean laughs outright now, the nerves draining completely from his body. He had no idea the conversation would steer this way when he had asked what he assumed was an innocent enough question, but he’s glad that it did. Because if he’d had time to prepare for this conversation, time to anticipate it, he knows that he would’ve chickened out. Just like he has so many times in the past.

When his laughter dies down, Cas says “well?”

“What can I say, man?” Dean leans onto the armrest of his chair, putting himself closer to Cas. “It would work on me.”

“Oh, would it?” Cas asks as he, too, leans into the barely there space that’s separating them.

“Hell yeah.” Dean murmurs, reaching across to wrap a hand around Cas’s tie. “Would have me all weak-kneed and giggling.”

Cas starts to say something back but Dean honestly doesn’t give a shit what, so he tugs on the tie and draws Cas to him, pressing a far overdue kiss to his lips. Cas, as always, meets him in the middle, a hand gently encircling Dean’s wrist as he kisses him back with ten years of pent of adoration.

One kiss turns into two, turns into seven before they finally settle back into their respective seats.

“First angel mating ritual in history,” Dean says around a satisfied smile. “And you were successful.”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to tell the other angels in case any of them have a free decade to spend seducing one of the most frustratingly stubborn men on earth.” Cas replies in a way that is full of endearment instead of the frustration he mentioned.

Dean just laughs and kisses him again.

[drulalovescas]

every dean and cas convo looking like this

dean, that's NOT where castiel's eyes are--