because somehow, some way, i can predict the most ridiculous aspects of spn years in advance
these aren’t serious, major plot points that i work out. they’re the stupid little things that people tag as “#spn crack” and then they come true
for instance, the poop emoji being used in response to someone being upset. there’re more recent examples that i don’t have right off the top of my head, but i know others have pointed out
in season 11, however, the word “useless” was brought into question, as i’d basically worked up 3 years of what i believed chuck was going to be like when he came back
would you believe it
Gabriel would LOVE a fancy trumpet, though. A heavenly noisemaker? Just think of how annoying that could help him be!
but imagine with me:
you’re 8 years old. it’s christmas morning. you wake up a little late, along with your older sibling who’s, say, 14. under the tree there are two presents left. one that clearly looks like a sword, and a small box.
the box is labeled for you, the other for your older sibling. they unwrap what was clearly a kickass sword. eagerly, you open your own box.
inside is a toy trumpet you don’t know how to play and some socks
your dad claps you on the back and says “imagine the possibilities, kiddo!” and then turns to your older sibling and talks about how cool they are
i forgot to mention here! the next portion of The Swaingels has been sketched out! i actually just have some intro stuff, filler feature pieces, and cover stuff to work on–and i posted the sketch for the cover with this part, too! (ALSO, if you couldn’t tell, this is based on Jason Manns–this is pretty much how i imagined Station Breaks was formed)
so i have about 60 pages i need to clean up already?? my original goal was to have this finished by nashville, but now i’m keeping my fingers crossed for seattle. i’ve come to the conclusion that with this one i’ll probably try to sell digital versions of it, and have a pretty small physical stock
-ok so my feed is empty except for like. 4 bloggers who are actually active
-so if your blog is based on one (or more) of these fandoms please like or reblog so i could check out ur blog & follow you!! (idc if you only reblog stuff):
dan & phil
youtube fandom in general
panic! at the disco
fall out boy
once upon a time
scream (tv show)
pretty little liars
Maybe you’d get lucky and Dean wouldn’t come home tonight. Maybe he’d stay out with Sam late or go find a girl to have fun with. Instead he found you in your room. You wanted him to go away. You didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve anyone. You wanted to be alone forever.
But you didn’t trust your voice to push him away. It would waver. Your voice would crack. The pit and heaviness you’d been feeling and fighting back all day would crash down the second you tried to say I’m fine. You couldn’t break, not in front of him.
Maybe if you just pretended you were sleeping he would leave. Your back was to him and you were lying on the bed curled up in a ball. You could pull that off. Your eyes were already shut and it’d be simple enough to do.
But Dean was good and sat down behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. Then he put a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, running soothingly up and down, a soft hum falling from his lips.
Maybe he hadn’t felt the shudder that ran through you. Not from fear but from need. You didn’t want to enjoy the way he was comforting you, didn’t want to acknowledge that he knew you weren’t okay. You didn’t want his touch because you didn’t want to get used to it.
But Dean knew what it was like to feel the way you did.
Maybe Dean was getting up to go, decided you weren’t worth it. That would have been too easy though. The sound of him shutting your door and kicking off his boots said he wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
But Dean never made you talk. He only lay down behind you, running a hand up and down your back until you broke down, stopping briefly to nudge closer and move his arms around you.
Maybe you were imagining all this. That someone didn’t see you the way you saw yourself. That they saw something good in you.
But Dean was real. His warmth was real. His sad murmurs against the back of your neck were real.
“Maybe you should go. You don’t really want me,” you said.
“But I came home to be with you. I’m exactly where I want to be.”