doll reveal



He turns a regular doll into a talking ‘ventriloquist’ doll to bait the murderer.

“Mesdames et messieurs, what am I about to do may surprise you a little. It may occur to you that I am eccentric, perhaps mad. Ah, you may say, “The little Belgian detective is taking leave of his rocker, ” eh? But I can assure you, behind my madness is, as you English say… method.”

New WWE Women’s Division-Themed Dolls and Toys Revealed

WWE are planning on breaking into the toy market even further, this time gearing towards young girls with their new Women’s Division Fashion figures, dolls and accessories.

The new 6 inch and 12 inch figures, so far, consist of Brie and Nikki Bella, Natayla, Eva Marie, Charlotte, Alicia Fox, Sasha Banks and Becky Lynch and is expected to be released later this year.

Product descriptions are as listed below:

WWE Women’s Ultimate Entrance Playset - “The lights are bright, the fans are cheering and it’s time to make your big entrance in the ring with WWE® Superstars Ultimate Entrance Playset! This exciting 2-in-1 playset lets kids get their WWE® Superstars ready backstage with a couch, table, vanity, closet, hangers and camera, to document the fun. Then when the Superstar is ready, the playset transforms with a turning platform to reveal the Superstar on the Ultimate Entrance stage! Add more WWE® storytelling fun with stickers you can use to customize the playset. Includes playset, piece-count, stickers and Nikki Bella action figure.

”WWE Ultimate Fan Packs (6-Inch Figure With DVD & Accessories) - “Fans of the WWE will love this Ultimate Fan Pack that offers the ultimate in collectable fun! This highly giftable set offers the ultimate fan experience—from playing to wearing to watching. Each pack includes a 6-inch basic figure, an accessory for the fan and a DVD of the Superstar’s highlights.

”WWE Superstars 12-Inch Fashion Dolls - “Action meets fashion with WWE® Superstars Fashion Dolls! These approximately 12-inch WWE® Superstars fashion dolls feature multiple points of articulation, amazing details and are fearlessly fashionable! Each WWE® Superstars wears a fashion inspired by their signature style for a look that girls will love! Plus, these incredible dolls can also stand alone with their shoes on—perfect for recreating WWE® Superstars action-fashion poses! Each doll includes outfit and shoes.

”WWE Superstars 12-Inch Deluxe Fashion Dolls - “It’s double the action and fashion with WWE® Superstars Fashion Dolls who are fearlessly fashionable inside and outside of the ring! These approximately 12-inch WWE® Superstars fashion dolls feature multiple points of articulation and amazing details! Each WWE® Superstars comes with two fashions and two pairs of shoes. The first fashion is inspired by their look in the ring and the second fashion is inspired by WWE® Superstars signature style outside of the ring. Plus, these incredible dolls can also stand alone with their shoes on—perfect for recreating WWE® Superstars action-fashion poses!

”WWE Women’s Basic 6-Inch Series - “Bring home the stylish action with WWE® Superstars Action Figures! These approximately 6-inch Superstars feature articulation, amazing details and are fearlessly fashionable! Pose them in exciting stances on their own or combine with other figures or create stories and matches to determine who will become the new WWE® Superstars champion!”

Also revealed is a child size WWE Raw Women’s Championship 

Dangerous Woman- Part 10

A/N: Y/F/N: Your father’s name.

Warnings: Fluff/Pre Smut

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of Tony Stark to become the head lawyer for the Avengers. You never expected your life to change but fate has a funny way of turning everything upside down.

Bucky x Reader

Part 9/ Masterlist

Originally posted by monstacookies

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I Think I Wanna Marry You...(Part 7)

Summary: After a week of tip-toeing around his them, Dean musters the courage to acknowledge and maybe even do something about his feelings.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Swearing

Read the previous parts here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5


Tagging:  @julibelen​ , @ilostmyshoe-79​ , @scamanders26newtcase​ , @g-c-falorraquideo​ , @the-rain-pours-down , @explorersinwonderland​ , @babyblues915​ ,  @rizlowwritessortof@adoringjensen​ , @peaceloveandplumbots, @quixoticcat, @skymoonandstardust, @girliciousdreams, @captainbitchslap, @awkward–jay, @fandomlover03, and @daesunglg

I know I said this part would be the last, but I happened to write it out until I got to 8k and decided it made more sense to just split it into two.

Friday arrives sunny, warm, and busy. Anticipated Friday, a day away from ending this little game of play pretend, the false life they’ve been living for a week now—the good life, where they’re both brave enough to be in love rather than hide behind a “friendship” (because we all know how that story goes). And to say that Y/N, drunk of her feelings from this entire trip, is not even the slightest bit disappointed that this has to end would be false.

Because how can she not be? How can she not desperately cling to this life, to this simulation where Dean’s heart belongs to her? She has to, at least for now, because within less than forty eight hours the story has to end; she and her beloved must return to reality. To hunting.

To being friends. (Because we all know how this story goes..)

With the help of Castiel and his brother, Dean is ready for the rehearsal dinner by seven. His suit, intricate and pressed and oh-so-doubleO7, sits firmly on his burly frame, his shoes so shiny they glint like diamonds, and Dean, all five feet and eleven inches of gentleman, revels in the feeling. The magnificence.
Sure, his hair is a bit tousled and there’s a patch of stubble gracing his jaw (shaving hasn’t exactly been a number one priority of his these past few days)—but he’s looking sharp, and feeling twice so as he follows Sam and Cas down the hall from their room, the three musketeers all dolled up for the night.

“Don’t we look spiffy.” He can’t help but remark as Sam snorts.

“Man, I don’t remember the last time I had to look this nice and it wasn’t for a case.”

“That’s because you never have.”

“Is Y/N ready?” asks Cas, adjusting his tie, Dean’s gaze bouncing to him—even if he won’t admit it, the angel and his baby brother are quite the competition when it comes to the looks.

“Probably, yeah. She texted me like—“ Sam checks his phone, “—ten minutes ago? Said she’d be done in five. You think she’ll find us there or?”

“Why don’t we just go get her?” Dean shrugs then looks to them, finding smiles twisting into their faces as they share a knowing glance. He narrows his eyes at his brother who tucks his phone away in his suit then turns.

“Good idea, Dean—go ahead. We’ll meet you guys down.”


But Cas cuts him off, patting him on the shoulder with a smile and then following Sam downstairs. The elder Winchester, rolling his eyes, only shakes his head and then turns back to head to their room, running a hand through his honey-hued locks.

And there’s no denying he’s nervous. It shows in the rigid, stiff way he walks, pulling at his collar, the cuffs of his shirt, tucking away stubborn hairs that are already in place. Dean hates that he has become this. That her hold over him is this strong, and yet he can’t find the energy to hate her for it.

When he knocks gingerly on the door once and then three times more when he thinks she hasn’t heard him (just to be sure, you know?), the door swings open, revealing a dolled up Y/N.


Dean stills, eyes shooting to meets hers as he feels his heart thud faster and faster in his chest, and Y/N, realizing that it is him, it’s her Dean, stops mid-sentence

“Oh.” . Her face contorts into a surprised gape, brows raising. “It’s you.” She says.

He swallows. Blinks, and God, does she look…ethereal.

All starlet and diamonds in her eyes, pink lips forming a soft, shy smile. Her hair is pinned up and she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress that’s only a few shades lighter than his eyes..

The elder Winchester’s brows arch approvingly. “Wow. Stunning.

“Ditto. Did Sam help you pick that out.”

“Really? I can take care of myself even without Sammy.”His eyes rake over her form and then return to hers, a smile tugging at his lips upon its own accord. “Although I have to admit: even I’m no fair match for this.”

Snorting, Y/N draws on some matte lipstick, dabbing off the excess. It’s a deep red, burgundy almost, and definitely a better fit than the previous cherry. 

“So….” Dean sits down at the foot of the bed. “tomorrow’s the big day—you nervous?”

“It’s not my wedding.”

“You’re still a bridesmaid and I know how much you hate crowds. Not to mention the whole heading back to Kansas the next morning.”

“I thought we’re leaving Monday?”

“Can’t do Monday. Sammy has some thing that evening and he’ll need the car so,…”

“You’re seriously letting him drive?” An incredulous, mildly amused gape takes form as she meets his emerald eyes in the mirror. “Boston’s changed you, huh?” 

Tossing the necklace back into the box, he rifles through the rest of the jewels, inspecting a zirconium ring he digs up from the bottom. Holding it up to the light, he squints. “He’s a big boy, he can handle her.”

“And yet when I ask….”

“I don’t say no, I just….” He shrugs, brow knitted together and lips pursed. “…don’t say anything. And besides, sweetheart, you’re a terrible driver.”

When she meets his gaze in the mirror, her nose wrinkles. ” Sweetheart?” Y/N questions. A smirk tugs at his lips as he then stands and crosses the room in three long strides, tipping his head to the side

“Babes, baby, my honeybun.”  Dean teases as bends down and throws his hands around her waist, nestling his chin in her shoulder, the rumble of his chest firm on her back. Laughing, Y/N bats his hands away but his grip only tightens, springing giggles from her that shakes her shoulders. 



“So, get off me?” Her smile betrays the admonishing tone in her voice, but nonetheless Dean surrenders

His arms leave her waist as he straightens out, raising his hands in a defensive manner. They drop to his side and he looks back into the mirror, where Y/N shakes her head and continues dabbing at the corners of her mouth, precise and pink. 

The elder Winchester’s eyes follow her ministrations as she doles on some blush and mascara. He doesn’t think she needs it. The only time she ever sports anything more than mascara is when they have to get prettied up for a case, and even then it’s a bare minimum, but it doesn’t matter (he thinks she’s stunning either way.)

“It’s over…”He muses. “We did it.”

“Who would have thought—I thought I’d kill myself halfway through having to be your girlfriend.”

“You know you love it, babes.” Dean gives her shoulders a squeeze and she jumps up with a shriek, both their cheeks indented with dimples, hearts full and the air is jovial. He doesn’t want to be late—Cas and Sam have been waiting and the rehearsal is about to begin, but he wants to live in this moment—any moment with her, however short—forever.

But time betrays him, a long-term enemy that seeks him out whenever it can as Y/N hurries to get her shoes and spritz a cloud of perfume on. She maneuvers fast, zipping around the room, gathering the garments strewn across the floor and bed and tucking them away under the blanket.

“Remind me that there’s an arsenal under the blanket tonight before I collapse into it.”

“Before we collapse into it, you mean.”

Rolling his eyes, he lets her through the open door and then shuts it behind them. Tucking their key into his jacket pocket, the elder Winchester then takes in a deep gust of breath, hooks his arm with Y/N’s, and they head down.

When they arrive downstairs, the first half of the rehearsal is spent practicing for the ceremony, speeches and then finally, when Uncle Gary finishes his toast with a rancorous cheer, the party blooms with the steady opening key of a piano, and then it is full swing mayhem. Drinks are poured, some spilled onto exclusive fabrics, and Dean is immersed into the celebrations as Cas hands him another glass of liquor. He tries his best to stay sober, though, because Y/N wouldn’t want him to be anything less.

Instead, the evening is spent with her.

In her arms dancing and in his head, combating his thoughts and trying not to laugh at how terrible she is or at the scrunch of her nose when she takes a sip of his scotch. They’re friends again, now. Conversation once seemingly stifled flows freely, no awkward breaks, no intimate stares that divert from the topic at hand, and all throughout the night, Dean is glad to even be a half of her whole in any way.

When Saturday blooms with the sound of birds humming outside and Y/N’s whisper pestering him to get up, Dean fights the exhaustion that glues him to the bed, groaning and swatting away his partner.

“We’re going to be late, get your ass up.”

“Five more minutes.”

“Dean, I’m not kidding,” Her voice is thin, dripping with acid that warns that dare he not get up now, the consequences will be dire. “It’s already eight o’clock, we’ve got ten minutes.”

“Piss off, sweetheart…”He mumbles into the pillow.

Y/N scowls and smacks his shoulder. 

Groggy eyed, Dean surrenders, mustering up the strength to push himself to sleep. He rubs his eyes open. His muscles ache and there’s a tumultuous pounding on the left side of his head that reminds him of the four beers he downed last night. Fervently blinking, he squints when the harsh lighting bombards his tired state.  

Craning his neck, he searches the room for Y/N who, if the sound of running water means anything, has disappeared into the bathroom. He gets up and pulls on his pants, then ambles across the room, pushing the door open to the bathroom. A wave of steam wafts over him instantly, tickling his numbed skin as he goes to wash his face.
When she hears the sound of gushing water, Y/N immediately stops showering. The running water then goes dead silent and she peers out from the curtain, befuddled and drenched.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready”

“I’m showering, Dean. Some privacy?”

Filling a glass of water, he gargles, spits and wipes the corners of his mouth clean, looking up to meet her gaze in the fogged mirror. “I need to get ready, too. The ceremony’s in three hours.”


“Hello?” There comes a knock at the door. Startled, the pair both turn their heads, eyes weary and the sound of the sink filling up echoing in the back.

“Is that your mom?”

“Sounds like Aunt Steph—go tell her I’m in the shower?”

“What? No!” He vehemently protests. “I don’t wanna see her, I’m not even dressed and….” Suddenly, the elder Winchester’s words die out as color springs to his cheek, his adam’s apple bobbing. From behind the curtain, Y/N’s brow knits further in disconcert, urging him on.

“…it’s….morning—you know…?” Averting his gaze, Dean awkwardly waves a hand around his waist, clenching and slackening his hand, and when the realization dawns Y/N’s face, too, splits into a feint blush as her eyes widen.

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’. “Right, sorry I—“

“Y/N? Y/N, honey, are you awake?” A feminine voice slices through the chatter and the knocking intensifies.

“It’s your mom. Crap. Okay, uhm,” Eyes skittering left and right, Dean bites his lip in thought. “—okay, you stay there and….bathe. I’ll handle this.”

“What about your whole dude situation?” Eyes flitting to his waist, Y/N immediately regrets looking, her cheeks heating up.

“Really, Y/N?”

“I’m genuinely asking!”

With a sigh, the green-eyed hunter disregards her remarks and hurries out, grabbing a nearby catalogue for greatly needed shielding. The knocking is annoyingly incessant, and he yanks the door open, exposing none other than her mother.

Her hand raised in the air, Marilyn’s hundredth knock is halted as she drops it back to her side and sighs. “Sorry for the impatience—where’s Y/N?”
“Morning to you, too, Marilyn.”

“God, the reverend is complaining that he can’t make it here on his own. We tried telling him to catch a cab and get here by two but the soonest he can get one is three. I don’t want to say anything to S/P/N about it in case she loses her head.” Eyes softening, Marilyn’s voice calms and she sighs. “Dean, would you please be a dear and go fetch him?”

“Like, right now?”

“What do you think?”

The elder Winchester bites his lip in contemplation, cornered, trying to hide his lower half behind the door. His fidgeting then draws the elder woman’s attention, and her gaze lowers. Dean’s face flushes.

But out of desperation for her to leave, he quickly acquiesces. “I, uhm—yeah, okay. Yeah. Give me half an hour.” 

“Oh, thank you, sweetie.” Marilyn’s face lights up and then, within a heartbeat she’s steadfast on her heels, heading back downstairs to cater to the commotion.

When he shuts the door, Dean feels a swarm of regret and frankly, irritation come over him. He waddles back into the bathroom where Y/N stands in nothing but a towel, combing her fingers through her hair and their eyes meet in the mirror.

“Well?” Her head is tipped to the side as droplets trickle from the tips.

“It was your mom.” He explains. “She wants me to go get the reverend, so….”

“So you’re going right now?”

“What do you think?”

“Geez, okay,” She’s defensive, expression warping into one of confusion but Dean overlooks it. “No need to be snappy. This whole thing is almost over, just one more day.”

“Don’t remind me.”


But he’s already out of earshot, out of the room and stalking down the hall with the keys clenched in his fist. Then on the way down, as if he wasn’t wound up already, he bumps into Rick in the lobby, and it feels like someone has just stuck a thorn into his side.

“Dean-o” Rick smiles, always smiles, when he sees Dean approaching. The green-eyed hunter’s eyes flicker from him to Marilyn standing to his left with a clipboard in hand and impatient scowl in place.

“Where to?” Rick asks him.

“He’s going to go pick up Reverend Loyd.”

“Really? You know where the church is?”

“I’m picking him up from the church?” A defeated expression forms and Dean lets his shoulders sag. Great. More work he’s not willing to do. Rick seems to notice his sudden disdain as he glances to Marilyn. 

“What did you think?” She prompts.

“That I’d meet him half way?” Dean’s voice is strained now, on the brink of yelling. He’s worked up. He doesn’t care that he’s worked up or that he’s on the verge of ripping Y/N’s mom a new one because this is all so sudden and ludicrous. I don’t have time to drive all the way out of town—I don’t even know where the bloody church is.” He bellows.

But right in time, when the elder Woman’s brows slowly climb higher up and a challenging, almost bored expression takes form, Rick steps in.

“I’ve been there for a couple of services.” He says, trying to calm the flame, eyes flitting from green to coffee brown—fire on fire, a shimmer of a challenge in both their eyes and Dean knows that it’s probably best they stop him from saying something he’ll regret later.

Clenching his jaw, the elder Winchester takes a step back. There still lies a stiffness in his posture. An unease as he glares at the woman before him. Rick plays the role of the pacifist better than anyone could in this situation as he focusses on Dean.

“If you don’t the way, why don’t I come along?”

“I’ve got GPS.”

“Sure that will be enough?”

“Dean…” It’s the sound of Marilyn, worn so thin her voice is acidic as both head turn to her. She’s growing impatient and you can see it in the way she clamps her eyes shut and paces her breathing. “Take him with you, or do I have to go do something this trivial myself?”

The elder Winchester swallows. “Yes ma’am.” Come his terse response and then with a roll of her eyes she sidesteps him and hurries off. 

The drive out of town is pungent with stilted conversation and an uncomfortable silence so ripe you could pop it with a pin.

Dean keeps his eyes on the road all the way, trying to ignore the man beside him. He’ll occasionally have to acknowledge Rick’s presence whenever he pipes up with directions, advising to go left instead of right or to go straight down the hill, but the elder Winchester stands firm in his abhorrence for this man. Blue-eyed Rick, charming, all smugness and no faults Rick. 

He despises his perfection because it is nothing short of a reminder of his own inadequacy: he didn’t grow up with Y/N, didn’t date her like some people did—didn’t touch her. Wishes he did.

But a wish, a mere yearning is as far as it goes.

The car skids to a sudden stop when Rick yells out that they are here. Dean hits the breaks lightning fast, and they make it fast enough to miss hitting a fire hydrating, both whipping forward with the stop. A stifled breath leaves Dean as he shuts his eyes, relieved.

“This is it.” Rick announces as he peers out at the colossal cathedral. Archaic and worn down by the years, it’s obviously a dinosaur, chipped pillars and intricate design and some sort of vine grown over the lower expanse of the building.

“Should I go get him, or?” He asks, turning in his seat. Dean is mum, staring straight ahead at the church. The air only tenses further until rick, waiting for a response, gives up. 

With a sigh, he then leans back in his seat, deflated as the ever-present smile melts away. Glancing at him through the corner of his eye, Dean catches him shaking his head.

“Look, Dean, I know you don’t like me, okay? You’ve…made  that….evidently clear by just being, well—“ Pulling a face, he waves a hand at the elder Winchester. “—this. So, I’m not gonna keep on trying to be your friend.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s the last thing I want.” The hatred brews potent. He knows it is petty, disillusioned and ridiculous and frankly insane to loathe a man who has been nothing but amicable since they got here, but he refuses to concede anything less than animosity. Rick is an enemy, his mind has already decided. A threat. A token, showing him a life he could have had. He is everything Dean is not.

“What is your problem, huh?” He snaps. “Seriously? When Y/N talked about you, I thought the Dean I’d meet was gonna be a cool guy who didn’t act like a total dick, instead I’m met with this grumpy old crow. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Sam was her boyfriend from description.”

“Alright, you know what? I didn’t agree to this, to this bullshit gab session and picking up the fucking reverend and all this crap, I agreed to be Y/N’s boyfriend. Just because I don’t do things the way you did when the two of you were horny teenagers, doesn’t mean shit.”

“Is that what this is about? Y/N and I dating?”

Dean says nothing as he shoves the door open with a shrill screech and clambers out. His blood is pulsing and he’s trying to think, he wants to think, but it’s hard with how heavy his heart feels.

At the sound of the passenger door opening, he whips around, finding a bewildered Rick staring at him.


“Fuck off”

“You know that was years ago, right? I was bloody nineteen. We grew out of our feelings for each other.”

“Really?” His tone is acerbic and strained and he hopes you can’t pick up on the underlying hurt. “So on Thursday evening the two of you were just supposed to meet and catch up, yeah?”


It goes quiet for a moment. Dean’s voice catches in his throat, his glare suddenly beginning to weaken. A stillness takes over him like a warm hug. His blood, formerly coursing through him like a violent storm, begins to calm, and it takes two seconds before he realize how stupid he sounds. How stupid he is.

Because, in a moment of insecurity and vulnerable jealousy he has just made a complete fool out of himself—and God, does it show in crimson-colored cheeks.
Clenching his jaw, the elder Winchester swallows. Straightens. The blood has drained from him and he suddenly feels cold, like he’s just seen the devil himself.

Rick stares at him incredulously. “Seriously? What else would it be? Y/N and I, we—“ With a defeated sigh, he snorts sardonically and then shakes his head. Belittles Dean; it says it all in the pitiful stare, in the way his head is tipped to the side and he looks at him like he is the smallest, most pathetic creature walking the earth.

“Wow. Talk about being insecure in the relationship.”

“You…” But he doesn’t give the hunter time to finish.

“Look, man, I’m gonna go get Loyd. Ceremony starts in two hours.”

And then just like that he pivots around and saunters into the church.

Dean is left alone outside. Stationary, gaping and somewhat disoriented. Ashamed—God. God, this is a new level of low that he cannot climb up from, and he hurries back into the car to save himself from being seen by anyone else. Shuts the door. Lets out harried breaths he’s been stifling. This is a mess. He is a mess. When Rick gets back a few minutes later he interrupts the hunter’s rumination as he enters the car with the reverend in tow.

The drive home is worse than he’d imagined. A collection of hasty side-glances and wooden conversation. Dean is grateful to get to the hotel. He parks the car then lets the pair out, but remains, hands still curled around and the wheel and heart heavy as they leave. He ponders. Tries to muster up some confidence, faux-excitement for the wedding all for Y/N.

And apparently it works; when he makes his way out onto the terrace, his friends can barely decipher his mood.

“How do we look?” Y/N asks as soon as she sees him, grinning like the wild child she is. She turns around a couple of times to show her dazzling dress.
With a breath of a laugh, Dean nods his approval. “Great. You all look great. Hell—even you Cas.”

With a subtle smile, the angel nods. The mood is jubilant. Guests are gathering and taking their seats, Y/N practically bouncing out of her shoes as she watches familiar faces fill the garden.

She holds his arm like an ecstatic little girl, awe-struck eyes trained on a dark woman with her hair done in bantu knots. “Miss Aubrey Peters.” She states. “I remember her from childhood. She worked with my mom and, practically every afternoon she’d be at our house helping out with the accounting for the business.”

Y/N’s mother is a florist so Dean doesn’t know how much accounting goes into flowers, but he politely nods along, bemused by her enthusiasm.

“Oh—and there’s Mister Kheal, S/P/N philosophy professor.”

He almost scoffs. “Who invites their professor to their wedding?”
“My sister, apparently. I can’t blame her. They were close, she aced all his classes.  A drawn out sigh follows her explanation. Resting her head on his shoulder, her grip around his arm doesn’t loosen.
“I’m trying to keep in mind what you told me—about starting a new life? You were…right. Seeing these people now reminds me that any good I had before I left Boston was abundant enough to be taken along and even leave some behind.”

“Sooo what you’re saying is that I’m right?”

“In a way. Dean?”

He tips his head and looks down at her, meeting grateful, doe eyes.

“Thank you for doing this. I’ll never forget it, the fun we’ve had. Your help. I know I can always count on you, and…well….that’s a nice thing to be assured of.” Y/N finishes with another one of her warm smiles and it is routine. Dean splinters. Falls further. Harder. He can’t help it, but he wants to lean down and kiss her, he can lean down and kiss her if he’s brave enough but he is too big of a coward. And when he opens his mouth to speak, the words are stolen from him as Aunt Steph then appears to drag her niece away to begin the march.

“Take your seats, if you will, everyone.” Marilyn calls from the altar, yelling over the buzz of conversation. People shuffle aside and perch themselves in their chair as the ceremony begins. 

Clearing his throat, Dean shakes himself and scuttles to his seat in the front.
The garden quiets almost instantly once everybody has sat down, the voices reduced to hush mumbles and whispers that soon die out when the Reverend and the groom’s party walk in. He swallows. Weddings have never been easy. They never will be. Reverend leans in to whisper something in Japheth’s ear and the entire congregation waits patiently, before he nods, straightens out and then instructs for the music.

The guitarist is Y/N’s cousin Jacob and he is brilliant, starting the service with the steady pluck of the strings. He plays the instrument like it is the body of his lover, attentive and intimate, eyes shut in focus. Beautiful. Beautiful, but not enough to ease the hammering in Dean’s chest. He gulps, adjusting the bowtie around his collar. The symphony picks up then slows, and then the elder Winchester turns his head when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Look….”Sam whispers, pointing down the aisle.

He turns.

And surely, there they are, the bridal party, floating in like angels on a cloud. All elegance, all poise. The music, so ethereal and sweet, is the perfect ode as the girls one by one make their way to the altar. Dean feels sweat bead at the nape of his neck. He watches each go by: Jackie, Emma…

And then there’s Y/N.

Dressed in that dress, his dress, his choice he just half-heartedly pulled out from the rack, but looking at her now, Dean can’t help but think that maybe it wasn’t so incidental. Maybe this is a sign, a furtive hint from the big guy that they have a chance, maybe he knows her more than he thinks, and he tries to hold onto that hope for the rest of the night.

She is still at the start of walkway, waiting for Emma to align herself at the front, and then she is ushered on by her aunt standing behind her.

Even with all the intricacies of the day, even with the focus being solely on S/P/N and her vows, Dean, watching her saunter down the aisle, is as sure as he is that the sky is blue, that Y/N is the most beautiful part of the day. He watches her intently, awestruck, stunned into silence. Cas and Sam chuckle behind him. He’s pretty sure one of them even pokes him in the side at one point, but he’s too engage to even notice.

And when she passes him, eyes lingering for just a second too long on his face, the furtive smile and wink thrown his way do not go unnoticed.

As always, likes reblogs and follows make my day. Also thank you to everyone who has shown this story love, it is very encouraging.


Imagine Dark with faint scars all over his body, from the many times his shell cracks. The unbridled anger and power displays when it happens leave pale traces on his skin.

Imagine seeing his skin as his shell cracks. Seeing the lines spread across his skin, like broken porcelain, and it’s terrifying when his entire shell cracks, from top to toe, his face cracking like a broken doll to reveal his true look underneath. There’s no blood, nothing to suggest these cracks on his skin are anything but on the surface, but watching someone literally breaking apart because they can’t continuously keep up this façade of perfect control is pretty freaky.

When he rests, because even evil edgelords need sleep, the scars fade, ready to be replaced by new ones. His skin is never really free of them because his shell never stays perfectly still, it’s always shifting and cracking when things don’t quite go his way.

When Dark takes control of Mark, he leaves him with lines akin to stretch marks on his skin. They fade almost instantly when Dark has lost control, but Mark has spotted them before. It worries him that Dark’s skin literally splits when his true feelings try to come forth, but it doesn’t bother Dark anymore. The scars have just become part of his daily life, although they’re little reminders that so many things go so wrong.

The most scars he’s ever had on his skin was after the meeting for Markiplier TV, when he could barely control his rage at Wilford’s idea. The bubblegum idiot was apologetic, when he saw them.

As Dark gets stronger, grows in power and his skills of manipulation get better, he gets less scars. It’s easier to pretend, easier to control. And the less scars he carries, the scarier he becomes. The scars were a sign he was coming apart, breaking at the seams and barely contained. As they fade and don’t come back, they point to a Dark with extreme control and power, a Dark that is not a force to be reckoned with.

anonymous asked:

how about a reaper, s76, hanzo and genji s/o with a with a strange fighting style or an a unused weapon and their reaction? it can be puppet (a one so well made that they think the puppet is a human who are following the s/o)i would like the puppet but if it will be hard its ok to use another thing(like a chainsaw or a couple of chains) but if you stick on the puppet it will be great if the s/o make the puppet protect them


  • In the beginning you don’t get along at all. He assumes you’re sending your bodyguard in to fight your battles and reap the credit

  • Not being the most chatty person the misunderstanding doesn’t get cleared up for ages. He just glares silently

  • When you make your ‘partner’ protect him it’s almost the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Already he has a few choice words about your treatment of allies and that he doesn’t need you to sacrifice some doe-eyed fool on his behalf and- ah … the doll breaks, reveals its mechanical insides

  • For days he’s awkward as hell, realising his mistake but too proud to just go right up ahead and apologise.

  • But now that he knows, he can appreciate the skills you bring to battle. The puppet can provide distractions, push ahead and soak up damage, and when the enemy realises they’re not inflicting real casualties it’s usually too late

  • Eventually he’ll get over himself and talk to you properly. Eventually.

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A guardian that opens up along the middle of it’s body like a matryoshka doll, to reveal another smaller guardian. This guardian also opens up to reveal yet another even smaller guardian. And so on and so forth until you get a guardian the size of a penny. This one opens up to reveal a tiny slip of paper that simply says ‘bang!’ and all at once, the guardian matryoshkas fire their lasers at you. 

Monsta X As Yanderes (Shownu, Wonho, Minhyuk, Kihyun)

For those who don’t know, Yanderes are an archetype of characters often used anime and as a Japanese term, it defines as a person who comes off as a genuinely sweet and loving person. However, the more attached they become to the person they find interest in or loves, they become a psychotic, brutal, and violent to protect their lovers from anyone else. Even their family, friends, and anyone who could have possible ties to them. Not to mention the stalking that happens too. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s contradictory to what I write about on this blog but come on! Monsta X? As Yanderes? That sounds pretty cool. Okay I’ll stop now.

You should probably listen to “Going Crazy” by Song Ji Eun (about a yandere, yes.)

Shownu - Thrilled by hearing your voice, he couldn’t stop from seeing you. When you first met him at the park, he was playing with the dogs, something you adored. He appeared as a boy who was innocent and just enjoyed working out when secretly, he wanted to kill those who came near you. You were his target. Shownu asked you to meet him for a date night where you could watch a movie. Oblivious to his true intentions masked by what he tells you, Shownu kissed you in the middle of his living room, where you somehow became unconscious. When you woke up, you were in his bed and he was sitting right next to you, playing with your hair. As you sat up, your head pounded and asked what was going on. He only smiled. The room was covered in dark red paint, or so you thought. A puddle of blood was seen in the corner and the remains of what once used to be human. You then saw blood on his arms, face, and bruises on his neck. He ignored what you were getting at and instead placed a hand on his chest. “They tried to get you. I protected you and brought you down here. Now no one can hurt you and you don’t need anyone but me.” “Who were they?” “Your friends. Family. Who else? Why what’s wrong? Are you crying? Well, at least your tears are only for me. As well as your body. You can never break away from me. NOW QUIT CRYING!” He shouted and grabbed a hold of your neck before you blacked out again.

Wonho - One call turned into a thousand as he sat on a bench near your house. When you didn’t come home that evening, he decided to find out where you were himself. He was sick and tired of asking others to do what he wants. The caring, loving boyfriend you once thought always had your back, kissed you when things weren’t going correctly and listened to your thoughts were his way, that even he didn’t know, to getting closer, and closer to you. Underneath the streetlight was where he stood. As you were coming home late that night, you stopped in your tracks, making out a silhouette that belonged to Wonho’s…but he carried a knife dripping what you assumed to be blood on the end of it. “W-Wonho…” You called out to him. He stepped into the pool of light, revealing himself wearing a dress shirt with half the buttons gone, blood soaking through his sleeves and smeared on his chest. He tilted his head and gave a smirk. “Sweetie. You made me wait too long. How about we play a game of hide-and-seek? I’ve already found the others… It’s sad that they won’t be playing anymore. It’ll just be the two of us pretty soon. But that’s okay. I love being the chaser.” Taking a few steps back, he came at an even closer proximity. When you couldn’t backtrack any more, your back hit an alley wall where he was able to place his hands on your back. “Don’t be scared. I’m only making a mark to show everyone that your mine and mine only.” From there, he kissed your neck before tracing a light line in your back with the blade.

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SDCC exclusive Wonder Woman and She-Ra dolls by Mattel.

Wonder Woman Barbie has been revealed. This doll is based on Gal Gadot’s look from The DC Cinematic Universe.
Price: $80

She-Ra has been revealed! She-Ra stands 11″ tall and comes with multiple outfits.
Price: $75

Again these can only be bought if you go the the event!

Camera footage captures the moment two year old James Bulger is abducted by two ten year old boys from a shopping center in Merseyside, England,  on February 12 1993. James had been shopping with his mother when he became separated from her outside of a butchers shop, and lured away by Robert Thompson and Jon Venables, two delinquent children skipping school. They originally planned to take the trusting toddler outside the complex and push him in front if a car, but instead walked him to a railway yard where they administered a vicious beating to the defenseless child. Over a period of an hour they forced James to drink paint, threw bricks and stones at him, beat him with a piece of wood, stomped on his head, and hurled bricks at his body. When the child lost consciousness Thompson and Venables ripped off his clothes and placed him on a railway track, where he was bisected by a train. Afterwards they ran away, and gave weak explanations to their parents about the blood and paint on their shoes.

James was discovered the next day by a group of children who at first thought he was a discarded doll. An autopsy revealed dozens of separate injuries, mainly to the toddlers head. A small solace to his parents was the fact James passed away before being hit by the train.  

When the two ten year olds were arrested, there was a massive public outcry, and armed police had to be present at their hearings. Because of their ages, Thompson and Venables could not be tried as adults, and we’re instead detained at Her Majestys pleasure until they turned twenty one. Their lenient sentences have caused for a call in criminal reform in Britain, and the case remains on of the most heart rending in the country’s history. 

You Had A Crush on Me?

@cherrixcii said:Can you please make 27+63 with Steve?

27. “I’m sorry but it’s very hard to focus when you’re dressed like that”

63. “Aw, babe, you had a crush on me?” “we’re dating.” “Still.”

(I changed it to engaged just bc it fits better!)

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

Natasha had convinced you to go out with her and Wanda for a girls night. The two of them had decided to go clubbing, so you picked a simple black, skintight dress that hugged your body perfectly. You walked into the common room of the tower to be met with over two dozen people, drinking and conversing with each other. You blinked your eyes in surprise before looking at Natasha.

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