little green army men

A Cry Without Tears


„Ey, Deg, remember that old song?” he ranted between bouts of quiet, nervous chuckling, old forgotten tune resurfacing somewhere in his broken mind, like an old psionic veteran returning home from the neurological warfare. Degtyarev looked with care at his friend; his tired, confused, insanely drunk friend, squatting on top of a washing machine crammed in the corner of Strelok’s little apartment, holding his old hunting knife, his hand shaking a little. Strelok made his final stand in the bathroom, his safe zone, atop that household appliance, too tired and intoxicated with a mixture of drugs and vodka to fight any more. It all happened so suddenly; Degtyarev was away on vacations in Odessa; he was supposed to be there for two weeks, orders from his superiors, but now, after a long drive from his short-lived break, he could barely feel rested. Corporal Boyko and 2nd Lieutenant Nadiozhny were already present at the apartment block, trying to calm down Strelok’s neighbour, Oksana Romanova, who was already painting all the possible dark scenarios in front of them. Degtyarev rushed out of his car, Oksana Romanova noticing him first.  They spent the entire next ten precious minutes trying to calm the widow down even though none of them were in the mood, ushering her back to her own apartment, with Colonel reassuring her Strelok probably just forgot to turn off the stove again or something as trivial; and that he was probably all right… They stormed inside the small apartment; it was an utter, incoherent mess. Degtyarev visited this place right after he received Strelok’s latest medical report, the worst to date…

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Two Things

A Supernatural Fic
Set in 2x1 In My Time of Dying

Sam has a serious debate with himself over not taking the bag of items from Bobby. He imagines himself walking back into his father’s hospital room empty handed - the biggest ‘screw you’ he can think of. He knows, though, that his father would most likely just call Bobby, or someone, to get those ingredients. Possibly even check himself out of the hospital and go get them himself. If he lets his father leave, Sam isn’t sure when he would come back. Or if he would come back, for that matter.

Why is it everyone around him seems ready to give up?

Bobby on the Impala. Saying there was nothing to save - even suggesting selling her for scrap. As if Dean would ever forgive them if they did. Sam isn’t sure he would either.

He doesn’t have memories of things his friends at Stanford talked about. He doesn’t have backyard barbecues, or learning to ride his bike in front of his house, or birthday parties with kids from his class wearing stupid party hats.

What he does have, though, is the memory of falling asleep to the rumble of the engine and the pounding bass of a cassette tape. Of Dean reading him the same book five times as they sat in the backseat, waiting for their father to come back from wherever he was at the time. Of playing with little green army men across seats and windows and air vents, and carving his initials next to his brother’s.

His father​ on Dean - because what other reason would he be more concerned with the final showdown with Yellow Eyes than on finding a cure for his own son? Expending energy on making a list of supplies needed for a summoning spell rather than making calls about possible healers? He had sounded about as resigned as the darn doctor about his fate. The doctor he expected, but his father he didn’t. Maybe he should have, though. After all, he hadn’t been much help the first time Dean was dying either. It had been on Sam to find the cure then, maybe it was on him now, too.

If Sam is honest, he can’t recall… No, if he is honest he can recall the last time he put his faith blindly in his father. His belief that he would always be there if he needed him died on a christmas morning and a failed attempt by his brother to mask another broken promise. It ended on a paper wrap gift being transferred from one recipient to another, and - since he’s being honest - his trust along with it. Because Dean didn’t let him down when it counted most. Not then, or in the years that followed.

Even when things were at their worst between them - two years of silence before he came to get him at Stanford - he still transferred Dean’s numbers to his new phone. He didn’t transfer his father’s, certain he would have new numbers at that point so it would be pointless. He had been equally as certain, though, that Dean would keep at least one. Had known beyond all reasonable doubt that if anything did happen, he would pick up. He would come.

So Sam isn’t giving up. If he has to fight every black eyed or yellow eyed demon, he will. If he has to find a way to cheat death, he’ll do it. The world has given him two things to hold onto - that car and his brother - and it can have them back only after they’ve pried them from his dead, cold hands.

Fini

Written for @spnhiatuscreations Week 1-

“The only thing we had in this world - the only thing, aside from this car, was each other.”

Because apparently the season 12 finale wasn’t painful enough, after a week of being unable to figure out what to write my muse was all: “Hey, we can write something from Sam’s POV during In My Time of Dying. You should go rewatch it.”

That did not help my poor shredded heart, Muse. At all.

Supernatural 01x03 and Little Green Army Men

Part 3 of Falling Deeper in Love With Supernatural, Episode by Episode 

Before I get going, let’s just get the shameless Dean appreciation out of the way, because yeah, this episode has one of my top ten Dean shots ever (and that is a mighty long list, so it’s really saying something).

Okay, now that that’s over, I can ramble.

Now, there are many things I absolutely love about “Dead in the Water.” For one, I sort of having a preoccupation with sacramentality in Supernatural. The relapsed Catholic in me can’t help but think about how fire and confirmation (starting a new path) are connected, how mirrors relate to the act of confession, willing or not, and how water, the material connected to baptism, often is juxtaposed with that sacrament.

In this episode, water is death (literally, that’s the title guys), which is as pretty far away from baptism as one can get. Unless one considers baptism a form of rebirth, and death a form of rebirth as well.

(Of course, because the visual storytelling is top-notch in Supernatural, the water of Lake Manitoc fluctuates from looking crystal clear to black. Sometimes in the same frame. God, this show!)

All interesting thoughts, none of which I will entertain here.

No, because what I love most about “Dead in the Water” is Dean.

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Those are real people, bases and all.

6 Halloween Costumes You Won’t Believe Aren’t CGI

#3. Little Green Army Men

Look at it – the resulting party photos always look like bad Photoshops. To start, you need to be willing to ruin a perfectly good set of clothing with primer and spray paint (just make sure you don’t go too crazy with it and wind up like that girl from Goldfinger). The base for your feet is a hunk of cardboard, and the prop weapons can be toys or whatever you can make – the fact that you’re going to paint everything the exact same color means you just have to find the correct shapes.

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anonymous asked:

I DEMAND SABRIEL HEADCANONS pretty please:)

(pulls up chair close next to the fire, wearing my finest purple crushed velvet smoking jacket and chewing on a bubble gum cigar) Strap in kiddo… You’re in for a bumpy ride. 

Mary was very right when she said angels are watching over them. This is usually thought of as Castiel watching over Dean, according to some versions of angel lore, archangels they were set at days of the week Dean being born on a Wednesday would have actually meant that Uriel was watching over him. Maybe that’s why he was such a dick when he came to him with Castiel… he’s seen the shit dean’s been up to for a long time and had just about enough of his shenanigans. Sam however, being born May 2, 1983 would have been born on a Monday, and the angel of Monday is, you guessed it. Gabriel. I think I even saw someone post about the days angels at some point on here. Probably buried in my likes somewhere….. 

So, the headcanon goes and I’ve talked about it a few times in snippets here and there… that “Tall tales” wasn’t the first time Gabriel was face to face with Sam Winchester, Sam just didn’t know it. Even in his witness protection, the bond he had with the Monday child kept his attention, especially knowing that this was the child that would change the face of the world. He watched him here and there throughout the years and at one point, decided that maybe if he zapped Sam away somewhere maybe he would never break the seal? Maybe Lucifer would never find him? Maybe he could change things after all, can’t have an apocalypses if there is noone to open the rumpus room! So he appeared one night in a random run down motel while John and Dean were out hunting. Watching the child sleep Gabriel came to make it so nobody would ever find Sam, then he would just snap off again and maybe, just maybe things could go back to normal. The funny thing about fate though.. is he didn’t expect to love him. 

He stared down at Sam, who was fast asleep with his knees pulled up tight against his chest. A book tucked in next to him, and an empty orange slice on the night stand. Gabriel reached out a hand to snap Sam away to some pocket of time and space but stopped. He just, couldn’t. Even though he could feel the demon blood slowly run through Sam’s veins, he could also feel the power of the soul that fought against it. It hurt Gabriel to think of trapping Sam away from everything, away from what he had left of a family… and if Lucifer did find him, what would Sam be like after decades alone in a bubble of space? Twisted from years of loneliness and that demon blood twisting his mind. He couldn’t. Dean would help him stay human, Dean loved him. He had to think Dean would keep his brother human. He cursed the path that led him to be the angel of Sam’s day. Dad’s idea of a sick joke. To pull him back in when he made it clear he wanted no part of his brothers war. 

He turned to leave, and Sam stirred freezing Gabriel in his tracks. Sam sat up with blinking eyes..

“Dean? Dad?" 

The tiniest sound came from the base of the bed and Sam crawled from the covers to peer over the edge

"mew”

A small, orange and white cat, with piercing gold eyes looked up from the floor and Sam’s eyes lit up. 

“Hi there, you can’t stay, my dad will be home any second and I’m not allowed to have any pets” said a wary Sam as he climbed out of the bed and met the small cat on the floor, reaching out a hand to pet it. 

Gabriel knew this was a bad idea. He knew it, He, fucking, KNEW it. He also didn’t care. He met Sam’s outstretched hand with his furry head and purred. Sam giggled and Gabriel rubbed along Sam as he walked around him, flicking his tail until he crawled into Sam’s lap and got scratched behind his ears. He stayed like that, being pet until he could feel Sam’s soul brighten and soothing and for a few moments like there was nothing evil inside of him. He stayed with him until Sam nodded off with his head against the bed frame, popped back into his usual form and picked the boy with the demon blood up to tuck him back into bed.

I’m also sure that wasn’t the only time. Hard times, lonely times, moments of doubt, When Dean broke a leg and Sam was left alone in a motel, Gabriel was a corgi in the parking lot who loved to play fetch with an old shoe someone lost. He snapped up dimes on the ground one day beneath a novelty machine filled with little green army men so Sam would have something to play with on a long trip to uncle Bobbys, When John and Dean argued in a Denny’s outside of Tulsa, Gabriel was a kid Sam’s age with extra tokens for the Pinball machine. When Sam got picked on at school #28 and Dean was on a case, Gabriel was the janitor who’s mop slipped out just enough to trip the bully on his ass after the jerk knocked books from Sam’s hands. He had to admit he really liked that one with the mop though.. standing up for Sam at the highschool, enough to later become a janitor to get his kicks on other little entitled assholes with the same ideas. 

The older Sam got, the smarter Gabriel had to be, he would only show up here and there so Sam, who was turning into quite the hunter wouldn’t become suspicious. A cute girl that happened to have the book Sam was looking for in the library, A few extra hours of sleep in a time loop for an exhausted Sam, who stayed up way too late studying for his entrance exams, A old well dressed stranger with a larger than usual umbrella at a rainy bus stop, or even as a dog in the back of a train car filled with road salt that kept him warm when Sam ran away. A dog, who only asked for a few pizza crusts here and there and who Sam jokingly called bones after the dogs head popped out from behind the stacks of salt bags. 

Once Sam met Jess, Gabriel felt the brightness of his soul, he would be happy now, Gabriel didn’t have to watch over him so much. Jess would keep his soul bright, keep him on the path to never go dark side. He loved Jess, and in turn, that made Gabriel love Jess too. 

He didn’t realize Sam had others watching over him, He should have recognized what Brady was, How could he not? How was he so transfixed on Sam’s smile and the brightness of his soul that he didn’t see the darkness across the table. He should have sensed what was happening, He should have been there…

He should have left Crawford hall in a moment when he could feel Sam’s soul’s pulse at hearing Dean’s voice in the middle of the night. That familiar churn of demonic blood fighting against his soul as he hunted again. The SURGE of anger the demon blood gave him when Jess was in flames above his head. 

Gabriel realized that no matter what he did, no matter how long he followed, or where he popped up, this was all going to happen. The apocalypses was unavoidable just like Michael told him, just like they ALL told him. He was angry. He cursed his dad, he cursed everything, and he knew just where to get out his frustration. Crawford, fucking, hall. He knew some dicks in need of a little just desserts. 

[Ao3] & [Audio version]

kikzissocoollike  asked:

What kind of embarrasing hobbies would Kaneki, Tsukiyama,Touka, Ayato, Nishiki, Yomo, Uta, Naki, Itori and Yamori have? (Sorry for such a long request! I love you and your blog. You're so cute)

(( its now WE are so cute ahaha bye im suck ))

Kaneki would probably collect a bunch of those little green army men. Maybe flower pressing would be a hobby of his too.

Tsukiyama would like to look and read up in dictionaries. Like he can’t stop looking for new words.

Touka likes to run around in grass, barefoot in the middle of summer. She also does embroidery. 

Ayato would totally be into comic books. He doesn’t want anyone to find his stash (which is gigantic). 

Nishiki likes to jump on his bed like a little kid. He’s broke a bed or two because of that.

Yomo probably likes kicking snails into streets. He’s a big mean butt towards snails but he finds the crunching shells cool.

Uta is into stop motion…Using his masks as characters. It’s difficult to stage them up but he tries anyways.

Naki is actually very good with accents. He can imitate with pretty much anything.

Itori gardens a lot - she mostly grows flowers and tends to them all the time.

Yamori has a collection of shiny trinkets. Things like rocks, tinfoil and so on. 

I Should Be Over All the Butterflies

Pairing: Eren/Mikasa, Shingeki no Kyojin

Setting: Modern Day AU where they grew up together as neighbors

Rating: T (Language and sexual implications)

Words: 8313

Notes: An anon on tumblr asked for a story that showed Eren and Mikasa falling in love with each other as they grew up together. I’ve always wanted to do a story for them by age and I thought this was the perfect time to do this! It ranges from ages 9-19 with a drabble for each age; its Eren’s point of view so it’s really him falling in love with her cause its Mikasa, we already know she’d be in love with him from a young age haha though I did try to show it in his eyes as well, the things he might not have thought much of that are telling from her. I loved writing this one, its possibly the cutest thing ever and long because I couldn’t control myself. The title is from “Still Into You” by Paramore.

I’ll be at Katsu all weekend! So I wanted to leave you guys with something :3 This is probably one of my favorites, I hope you enjoy it!

FF.Net/AO3

Nine Years Old

Eren lived in the same neighborhood all his life, granted he was only nine years old but still. He knew all the names of his neighbors, especially Armin who was his best friend and Jean who Eren knew he’d never like. They had all been the same for as long as he could remember which is why he found it so strange to see moving vans in front of the house directly across from his.

He kept staring out the window of the living room, watching the movers bring in furniture, boxes, containers, but he couldn’t actually see anyone.

“What’re you looking at, Eren?” he heard his mom call from the kitchen.

He turned his head to see her looking at him while she was drying a pot. “There’s strange people moving in across the street.”

“And what makes them ‘strange’ people?”

Eren shrugged. “Cause I haven’t actually seen them. Do you think they’re invisible?”

His mom laughed. “No, I’m pretty sure they aren’t but that was a good guess.”

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