The first time Cas and Meg are intimate, he lightly trails a hint of grace with every touch, (yes, EVERY touch) and it feels like cold burning and static electricity and like a cleansing. It hurts but it leaves her breathless and wanting more, and when they both reach completion she feels flooded with it, and it leaves her feeling raw and vulnerable. But he holds her afterwards and she pretends she lets him for his sake, but really she feels a comfort in his arms she can't ever remember experiencing. "All that thorny pain," he murmurs softly in her ear, "so beautiful."
I'm just going to leave this loveliness here. Thank you.
Hi, do you happen to be the author of the Wincest and Wincest Adjacent blocklist? And if you're not, would you be so kind to point me in their direction? I'm a Megstiel shipper, truth be told, but I'm looking to be added to it so Destiel shippers will block me and I don't have to go through the hassle of blocking them myself.
19. What do you hate most about fandom? Be as salty as you want
haha oh my god, thank you for sending this
So fandom in general can be great, but it also drives me up the fucking wall which is why I tend to stick quietly to my corner. I feel like in some ways it’s just the same endless rehashed bits of fandom wank just with different fandoms and characters. I have no patience for dealing with people’s bad opinions.
There always has to be a popular pairing, and god forbid you like characters outside of that or want to multiship. I think it’s gotten worse with purity culture in some ways, but that kind of wank has always been there tbh. I am clearly a terrible person because I like unpopular problematic characters and ships.
Like, it’s fucking fictional, that’s the point. There’s a lot of shit that I read about that I wouldn’t want to even think about in normal life, and that’s kind of the point, and I am so fucking tired of people who are convinced that you are what you read. They end up sounding like the evangelical homeschoolers I grew up around and I did not leave the Catholic church to deal with that kind of bullshit again.
So, after a long conversation with super-powerful-queen-slaynna, whom you can thank for me sending this message, so like... if you like it good, if you don't blame them, I do want to apologize for assuming you were saying people can't talk about Destiel, its shippers and how much they dislike it in their group chats. That's what the post came off to me, as if you were policing what people could and couldn't say in these GC about Destiel. Slaynna made me realiza that you meant your post as a 1/2
warning to Destiel shippers who might wander into them. I understand this, because whenever a Destiel shipper follows me, I make it a point to warn them my blog might not be a positive space for them precisely to avoid this sort of unplesant interactions. It also came off as you were invalidating and dismissing the bad experiences people might have had with misbehaving Destiel shippers, which I'm sure you're nice enough NOT to do. My beef is really not with you, or Tink, or any other Destiel 2/?
meta writer, my beef is with shippers who are genuinely hateful and do hateful things. You simply came off as you didn't believe there are Destiel shippers who do these things at all. That say, I won't apologize for venting to like-minded people about my utter dislike for the ship, because we do in fact do that. But I don't think it's fair you walked in on us at that point and extrapolated that's all we do. BTW there is in fact an Anti-Destiel GC and the irony is, if you had walked into that 3/4
one 24hrs earlier, you would have in fact found people gushing about Megstiel and Sastiel, LMAO. 4/4
...
Okay, I’ll give you pointers for being bold enough to come explain this in my ask box, and I commend @super-powerful-queen-slayyna for reaching out to try to calm the stormy seas. I am most likely not going to make any further comments on that post anyway because it has blown out of control and has escalated into a full blown ship war post which I never wanted when I sent it. It’s now Destiel shippers and my friends trying to defend me or people blatantly calling me names and using unnecessary language which I am not even going to acknowledge or give the time of day as I don’t go in for that sort of childish name calling (unless you count my use of the word bronly but some things I think even we can agree are a necessary evil).
My post was a response to my own hurt and irritation at coming across two GCs, one for Sastiel, and one for Megstiel, which were both recommended to me by Tumblr, which were not tagged as anti-Destiel that I could see, that appeared on the surface to simply be places for people to discuss and squee over those ships. In both GCs I saw nothing but hate and lies and other upsetting comments about Destiel and Destiel shippers. It was extremely disheartening to see that in what on the surface appeared to be safe spaces. Because here’s the thing, these shipper GCs should be safe spaces. I have friends that are multishippers, that like Sastiel (and even the odd few who like Megstiel even though admittedly I don’t anymore.) There are plenty of other people out there in fandom that might like all three ships (I’d imagine those people simply want Cas to have all the love in which case SAME).
To get one point very clear, I don’t actually care if people hate Destiel. I’m not going to preach to anyone about Destiel unless someone comes to me directly or comes scrolling my blog. I always tag Destiel so anyone who uses Tumblr blacklist should be able to avoid my blog completely. I would never intentionally go looking in an anti Destiel chat group. I’ve seen it all before anyway and it’s the same old arguments that really don’t affect my shipping preferences or my beliefs.
What annoyed me was that those GCs were not anti Destiel chats. They were Megstiel and Sastiel chats. They were places where impressionable young Megstiel and Sastiel shippers could come across, who have zero feelings towards Destiel, and find themselves being told a bunch of lies and nasty crap about Destiel shippers and the ship. They are places where Destiel shippers who like to ship those other ships too might come across and suddenly find themselves isolated and alienated, which only perpetuates retaliation from those Destiel shippers and potentially causes the hate that you stress is so virulent among Destiel shippers to begin with.
My post was a warning for multishippers who are also Destiel shippers or at least Destiel friendly, that those GCs were being used to spread hate about Destiel. It was also an FYI to the people in those GCs that their hatred was very much public, in case they weren’t aware. I tagged the ships because I wanted people who ship Megstiel and Sastiel to see it, especially if they are Destiel friendly, because yeah, I’d want them to avoid those GCs.
Yes I then got snarky. I claimed that this does kinda prove a point because no Destiel GC that I’ve seen includes a bunch of hate and nastiness aimed at other ships. Sure, there is a high chance that there are hateful Destiel shippers out there. There are certainly a lot of bitter people on Twitter who piss me off when they scream queerbaiting at the writers so yes, of course there are bad eggs. I was shocked that from what I saw, there was no squee or shared theories or excitement about the ships, just page after page of hate aimed at Destiel shippers. So yes, perhaps I happened upon both convos right when those topics cropped up (which would be rather coincidental) and perhaps I had just missed the topics that I was interested in checking out - the theories, the meta, the spec... That’s what I was interested in. Since these GCs are a way to keep a finger on the pulse of what the fandom might be thinking in terms of the show and shipping and I was curious. Believe it or not I actually like to keep an open mind even though Megstiel is something that gives me a bad taste in my mouth ever since I sat myself down and truly thought about it.
I generalised. I know I shouldn’t have done that, but those GC convos pissed me off. I don’t know a single Destiel shipper who would spend hours of their day just ranting about how awful Megstiel shippers are and how much they hate the pairing. I HAVE debated with friends about the suspected infiltration of the Megstiel ship by Bronlies who are using Meg to get Cas out of the way and to be spiteful towards Destiel shippers. This IS something that has been happening in recent years and I think even you admitted that in one of your replies to my post.
I also wasn’t trying to invalidate your experience with hate. I would never do that. The one thing I will say about anon hate in particular is that you don’t know who it is coming from. I occasionally get anon hate but I certainly don’t immediately assume it’s a w*ncest shipper just because I can’t stand w*ncest. Getting a message in your ask box that says “go kill yourself” is horrible, believe me, I know. But if that’s all it is, you can’t assume the sender was a shipper at all. Unless the message was “I ship Destiel and you can go kill yourself” you just can’t assume. If you have had actual Destiel shippers come and attack and threaten you and send you those messages directly then 1. I am so so sorry because no one deserves that kind of abuse, and 2. I hope you exposed them if you could. Because if there is one thing I have learnt about the Destiel shippers in MY circles, it’s that we find that kind of behaviour completely unacceptable and we WILL call it out from our own side if we see it.
The reason I have such a high opinion of Destiel shippers being the “nice” people in fandom is simply because I have never seen that kind of behaviour from them. I interact with a lot of people. I have seen Destiel shippers get overly passionate, I have seen them get upset and angry when people lash out at them. I have seen them turn bitter and negative and go off on rants about the show. I have seen them dog pile on an anti’s post to provide evidence against a false claim “Kripke said he’s straight” and I thought it was a bit much... but it wasn’t hate. It was a reaction to years and years and years of being laughed at, called delusional, mocked and ridiculed by all other sides within the fandom. Destiel shippers are desperate for validation. They are desperate to disprove the lies. If people actually listened to us, or read the countless posts that have been written clearly providing evidence and sources to disprove every lie and false claim against Destiel perhaps we wouldn’t be so defensive. That’s what happens when you’ve been gaslighted for 11 years.
But regardless, I’m not here to get involved in shipping wars. You’ll continue going on hating Destiel, and I will continue going on and, well, not hating, but very much disliking Megstiel in canon (though I have read some very sweet Destiel fics where Meg is Cas’s best friend and enjoyed the characterisations there.)
My post was never to gatekeep and stop you from ranting about Destiel. Rant away to your hearts content. As I said above I really don’t care if people hate it. All I ask, is that you keep that kind of content in places that are clearly labelled as anti Destiel. So that should a Destiel shipper want to check out a Sastiel or a Megstiel GC, they can do, without feeling completely unwelcome and hated on just for enjoying Dean and Cas’s relationship as well. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask. All it takes is one tag right? Create your Megstiel GC and by all means rant about Destiel in it, but please just tag it as Anti Destiel.
Thank you for reaching out to me and explaining your side of things. I do appreciate it.
"My girlfriend is really tiny and it's funny, because she's into rough stuff," Castiel slurred on the mic. "One time when we had just started dating, I was trying to be sexy, so I threw her against the wall real hard. I felt bad, I started apologizing. She was all 'What a gentleman, most guys apologize after they fail to make me come.'" The audience burst into laughter. Meg, stationed behind the counter, chuckled as well. That story was always the highlight of open mic night.
Still stands to reason that drunk Cas would be a helluva good standup comedian though his reaction time might be off
"You realize you're an angel of the Lord, right? You could snap your fingers and have thousands of this." Castiel settled the plate of honeybuns in front of Meg nonetheless. "It's the satisfaction of doing something. Try them," he insisted, holding one in front of her lips. Meg took a careful bite while Castiel watched her attentively. "They're good, Clarence." Castiel smiled and ran inside to get the second batch out of the oven. Meg spat in a napkin and decided a little lying never hurt anyone
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 8 | airmid79 vs @inkbleeder
Prompt: Straight Face
Ship: Michael/Dean
Word Count: ~ 2.2k
Rating: T for language, no other warnings
Summary: Don’t play drinking games with people who know you uncomfortably well. Set in the bunker in a nebulous future.
AO3
See Notes at the end for information on the game itself.
There was a wary look in those eyes, like Dean was plotting terrible things towards his friend and he wanted to point out that he was innocent on that front. Totally innocent.
Now, the terrible, not so nice things that he planned to do to a certain stuck up ex-archangel that was still sort of an angel? Yeah, he could be accused of those things.
“Yes.” Cas’ voice was like gravel on his nerves. Everything seemed overly bright even in the dim garage of the bunker and he tried an innocent look. Cas didn’t look like he was buying at this point as he went on. “This is very powerful. What are your intentions for it?”
“Can’t you just trust me for once, Cas? Huh?” Dean tried for his sheepish grin that used to work on Sam until Sam wised up and realized Dean was at his least trustworthy when it came out to play. It looked like Cas felt that way to as the angel took a step closer, those eyes becoming little judgmental slits.
“Whatever you have planned is a bad idea.”
“Look, man, thanks for the advice,” Dean started, managing to grab the bottle in his friend’s arms, “but I’m a big boy.”
Cas looked less than convinced. Seeing that the angel wasn’t trying to take it back, Dean made himself scarce, climbing up the stairs into the bunker proper. At the very least maybe he could figure out if the quasi-archangel free loading with them actually felt anything. Push a few buttons, have a little fun along with getting that stick that was lodged up Michael’s ass loosened a bit.
At least if he got an angel hammered and not a total bastard for a while in the process it had to be worth doing, right?
There was a little pile of paper sitting in front of Michael as he sat all straight laced at the table in the war room. Dean was fairly certain given the perfect edges and corner that the angel had taken a pair of scissors and painstakingly cut each little strip to the same size before folding it.
Because Michael was an over acting ass apparently.
“I see you are serious about my participation in your insisted upon proceeding,” the archangel said, tilting his head slightly. Unlike Cas there wasn’t any emotion in those eyes, just cold authority as he waited. It was already unnerving that he was like the ghost of dad’s long lost brother, that God hadn’t really done a lot when popping him into the vessel.
In fact, Dean wanted to argue, the close but not quite resemblance made things all the more worse. His life had enough sketchy corners as it was, he didn’t need tall, dark haired, blue eyed with a more severe face glowering at him in constant judgement. No, no Mikey’s face was often unhelpful and the dick knew it.
“Just for you, buttercup,” he said, pushing the bottle in front of the angel. “Get it done?”
“Yes, as per your instructions though I fail to see what you get out of this.”
“Can you just not have a massive cosmic point to everything? Just think of it as the price of getting to stay here.”
Even with his back towards Michael he could feel the angel seething and he smiled, picking up a whisky bottle that was mostly full and two shot glasses before returning to the table. He scooped up the little pile of perfect paper and inwardly sighed. This, this was what he wanted to not have for a while, as he fished his own out of his pocket. There was nothing wrong with a few crinkles, a little smudge of dirt. Gave them a personality.
“You remember the rules?”
“Yes Dean, despite what you feel I am not senile due to my age.” Those eyes focused on him again as he stood his ground. “Read what’s on the paper with no reaction. If there is a reaction of any kind, drink.”
“Good, Sparky.”
He kicked back in the chair opposite the archangel and passed over the first paper. Those slender fingers unfolded it, and Michael sat quietly. If he was honest, and he wasn’t a lot of the time, he would be worried since the silence dragged on. So he tried to distract himself by working off a smudge with his shirt cuff and wondering what Sam was using to give the table this high velocity gloss.
“I’m not saying this.”
Michael’s face was slightly pinched, looking as though he longed to incinerate the paper in his hand as Sam of course chose that moment to flounce in. Probably meddling Cas had sent him, hoping Sam could be the voice of reason.
Dean snorted.
“Say what? What are you two doing?”
The paper exchanged hands, Sam’s face getting that same dark look to it as he slowly turned his eyes on Dean. There was a reason Dean had started off with that one, stack the deck in his favor. Michael’s pride, well it could be something sharpened to push right back the other way. Which was awesome in a game like this, especially when your opponent had an ‘at will’ poker face pre-programmed in.
“Jesus, Dean.”
“He doesn’t have to say it but he reacted so down the hatch it goes.”
“Dean, dude, I don’t think you’d even say this out loud.”
“Them’s the breaks, Sammy. He can either wimp out or grow a pair.”
The cute little helpless look that Sam had almost withered when Michael realized he was losing and they had just barely started. No words, not even an angry comment as he poured out the shot of that liquor that smelled faintly of flowers before he downed it. A wince, tightening of the jaw as the glass was placed back down, eyes calm.
“Fine, Dean. Go ahead.”
Somehow he managed to do it. Somehow he managed to say “I am in love with Sam’s hair and ache to run my fingers through it” with a flat voice. Which he was fairly sure just pissed off the angel more.
“I don’t even want to –“ Sam raised up his hands and backed away from them. “Just don’t burn anything down.”
“You can see all those years of lying paying off,” he yelled after his brother who just shuddered.
“Do you even pay attention to what comes out of your mouth?”
Then Sam was gone, Michael was smirking and he had no one to really protest that he meant scamming people, not that he secretly loved his kid brother’s hair. Christ.
“I like to –“ Michael squinted at the paper, his posture more slack, head almost lulling to the side. “No Dean, it was Gabriel who liked to rub himself on everything in creation.”
“I’m gonna give it to you because you managed that somehow,” Dean mumbled as he felt deliciously warm. Something like a haphazard smirk was on the angel’s face now and Dean got a finger to respond in order to point. “Never mind, drink.”
“I was reacting to you after you told me I passed,” came the words, Michael’s head tilting like a lazy bob. “I don’t believe that counts.”
Dean grunted as his own fingers fumbled with the next little perfectly folded card that showed the habits of anal retentive angels. Or sort of angel. He was fairly certain Michael might have a spot of spittle on his lip and that didn’t seem highly angelic.
“I like the thrill of having semi-public sex in closets.” All he could do was just blink a few moments, feeling some hot sensation flash through his face. “Just, dude, I don’t want to know how you think you know that.”
A slight curve of Michael’s mouth, something strangely triumphant, like the archangel had guessed the world’s most important secret. Dean took another shot, not even feeling the burn at this point.
Well cared hands reached for the next little slip and Dean wondered that if Mike ever became fully human if he would get manicures. And…he needed to have stopped thinking about five minutes ago.
“This isn’t true,” came the soft response to whatever happened to be up. “I’ll take the drink, I won’t say this to you.”
Damn, his brain was a fuzzy, buzzy, lacking logic place right now. What had he written that wouldn’t be true enough to make Michael that vehement over the whole thing? Usually he could do better than this, maybe sitting next to that pagan sacred crap was making it harder as he pressed his face against the cool surface of the table. It did have that heady hippie smell of honeyed flowers that was rather nauseating.
He decided to blame his sudden inability to not handle his liquor nearly as well on that.
A click of a glass being set down and then fingers were rubbing his head. He’d jump if it wouldn’t make the sensation that he was going to puke more pronounced. He didn’t need to see the last couple hours in reverse.
“You’re making this weird,” he complained and got a happy noise. He didn’t have to look up to know that the angel’s eyes were all shiny and bright and like two deep pools that caught all the light.
Jesus, he was getting bad.
“I’ve never thought that about you,” Mike continued, voice all hazy like some luxurious blanket and he wanted to wrap himself in it. “I think the smell is getting to you.”
“As long as we agree it’s your fault.”
He cracked his eyes open and saw that the angel was leaned back in his chair, fully relaxed, almost like he was actually smiling, something genuine for once. A hand wave and the cork was back in the bottle, a few blinks as if Mikey was surprised he managed to pull that off without blowing something up.
They were so done, and he closed his eyes again deciding that he would get up maybe when his body didn’t feel like it was full of sand.
“You’re a very sweet drunk,” Michael intoned as Dean pondered if he had enough left to throw something at him. “If I didn’t think just the residue in my mouth would kill you I’d like to see what is so alluring to you about closets.”
“Oh my God,” he got out, feeling his face flush all over again because that had been a stupid kid thing and why had Michael even felt the need to know about that?
“If He was here He’d probably watch.”
Because only Michael could find a way to make this totally worse and act completely normal about it.
“Please, just stop talking,” he whispered to the table.
Damn, did his head ache. Some sort of sour, stale taste all glopped in his mouth and he felt like he was laid out on something hard and very unforgiving. Wincing, snapping his eyes open and shut a few times against the glare off the white he found that was because he was on the floor. Shifting his eyes up without moving his head full of sea-sick feelings, it seemed he was also under the table.
This was about the time he became really more laser focused on the fact he was being cuddled by something very warm. His still not steady hands checked to ensure he had all his clothes on.
“What the hell?” he muttered and he was fairly certain it was Michael who was all tucked in like an overgrown cat behind him. Which was only a shred better then Sam on the floor with him in weird positions.
“You decided to lay down on the floor under the table as it provided good cover and complained to be cold. I, at the time, thought it would be good to help you.”
“Uh huh,” he said slowly realizing that the archangel was not impaired, or at least not by nearly as much and was still wrapped around him. “And now?”
“I’m enjoying your discomfort,” came the amused answer but the arm around him pulled him slightly closer and Dean wondered just how much of a half-truth that was.
Better to wig out over the whole thing later after he managed to get vertical without emptying his gut into the nearest trash bin. “I am so never going to live this down.”
“Nope,” came another voice and he groaned. Sammy. Sammy had walked in being all smug, putting stuff on the table loud enough that it sounded like he was re-enacting a buffalo migration up there. “Coffee and breakfast on the table, Dean.”
Goddamn, was Sam way too smug.
“Thank you, Samuel,” Michael was saying as his brother lumbered away and at least the archangel had stopped him from poking Sam to even more vindictiveness.
Though when he got himself free from the overly handsy angel and away from the dust bunnies down here, he decided no more drinking games. It wasn’t like any of this was enjoyable. Nope, it was just to keep his eyes from seeing the world in vomit inducing ways and giving Sam more ammo later to blackmail him with.
Laying his head back down, Michael a sun at his back, he decided getting up could wait just a few more minutes.
While I have played a few drinking games I ended up having to look up Straight Face and found a rather helpful video of three dudes demonstrating it. For humans playing, a lot of the fun comes from trying to say what's been written down without laughing. Due to the participants not all being human in this case the rules were much stricter - saying what was written without any reaction at all. Which of course was what Dean was going for by writing things that at first Michael would refuse and just play out of pride and later on getting him to say things that would cause most creatures discomfort.
