love and internal organs

jalapeno--business  asked:

So whenever I read trc, I'm always overwhelmed by this almost pathological desire to experience the same feelings of wonder and beauty and magic that you describe in the series. Yes, I understand that there is no sentient, magical forest to discover, and no sleeping king that I can search for, but I still have this urge to have similar feelings and experiences in my life. So how do you experience a similar kind of magic and wonder that you describe in your books, in everyday life?

Dear jalapeno–business,

Are you listening closely?

As an author, I travel a lot. At one point, I was on the road one day out of every three — planes, hotels, rental cars. There’s a rhythm to it, like running up a very long flight of stairs. You figure out how many stairs you can take in a jump, and how to breathe-in-breathe-out to keep from wasting your lungs, and you learn how to tell when you have to stop to rest your knees or you just won’t make it to the top. 

The airports and the planes and the people can all start to seem the same after awhile, if you’re looking at them wrong. If you let them. Anything in life can sound ordinary if that’s all you’re listening for.

Back in 2014, I was in a Texas airport. The night had that glittering senseless jitter to it that happens when you’re tired but going home, finally going home. I was early for my flight and sitting several gates away from my real gate, listening to music. A young man sat down two seats away. Ordinarily, tired and occupied with the peculiar every-day magic of the music in my headphones, I wouldn’t have noticed him, but a moment later, a phone rang. He asked if it was mine; it wasn’t. Someone had forgotten it on the seat between us. 

We both looked at it.

It rang again for someone who didn’t know to pick up, and then he took it away to one of the United desks for them to give it to someone who would listen. He didn’t return.

Two hours later, I went to my real gate to board. Full flight. Everyone was checking and double-checking their seat assignments as they defended their right to aisles and windows. When my seatmate settled himself next to me, I looked up, and it was the guy from the waiting area. He had a tilt to his chin that telegraphed that he thought he was hot shit and a grin that said he recognized me. 



We laughed ruefully and applied our headphones — we both knew the routine of polite air travel. But the agreeable tingle of the coincidence still ate at me, and I could tell it ate at him, too, because after a few moments, he offered me a truffle from his bag. I told him I couldn’t take it because of my allergies, but the headphones came off. We started to talk.

And he was a big talker. He was cocky. A surgical resident. He told me how he loved the hell out of taking internal organs out of people. He described how he listened to sixty-minute epic soundtracks in his ear buds while he removed appendixes and gallbladders, kidneys and stones. He told me of watching Dateline by himself at the end of seventy and eighty hour work weeks, and he told me about his Hyundai, which I made fun of. Confidentially, he whispered to me about a surgeon he knew who had the goal of removing every gallbladder in Texas. Two hours into the flight, the conversation tilted toward spirituality. He’s hot shit, he confessed, and works hard, but he sometimes wonders if he’s allowed to want to be successful, or if that makes him a bad person. Because he’s working a lot of hours in a week, and he’s tired, but he’s pretty sure that he’s hot shit, but maybe that’s not allowed.

I was watching him fumble his fingers over each other. He was scratching a hole in his own palm.

And all at once there was a phone in my head, and it was ringing just for me. 

“One of your parents has obsessive-compulsive disorder,” I told him. “Maybe both.”

The shimmering grin slipped. “How did you know? How could you know that?” 

I asked him if he was getting treatment for it.

He said, “No, no, I’m over it. How could you know that?”

Because in a foggy way, that phone was still ringing between us, and now, I recognized the number.

I said, “Don’t kill yourself.”

He replied, “No way,” and then he started to cry. 

The shit-eating grin had vanished. He told me how he’d made up his mind that he didn’t want to make it to 35. He’d researched all the ways to make sure he didn’t. Over the next hour, I told him about my OCD, and how I thought his uncertainty over wanting to be successful but also wanting to be humble was a function of his OCD’s spiritual obsession. That he wasn’t over OCD, that you never were, but that his agony didn’t have to be a real thing. He could be both humble and successful. It wasn’t against the rules of goodness to be proud of what you’d done, as long as you were doing things for the right reasons. I told him how once I bought a race car, but I’d given it away to someone who could use the money, because I realized I was only racing to look sexy in a car, and not because it was really making me happy. 

I told him he didn’t have to worry about looking sexy in a Hyundai, though, and he replied that he would look sexy in anything, and then he cried a little more. 

Everyone else in the plane was asleep, but we were wide awake.

When we got off the plane in Virginia, the surgical resident gave me an awkward side-hug, and he wiped his face. Then he dug in his bag for the wrapper from his truffle. As the other travelers shuffled past us sleepily, he pressed it into my hand. He didn’t want to give me his name, he said, but he wanted something for me to remember so that when we ran into each other again in 15 years, I’d know who he was.

After we’d parted ways, I turned my phone off airplane mode, and a text came in that had been sent while I was in the air. It was from the person I’d given the race car to. I hadn’t heard from him in nearly six months. The text said only: thank u maggie i have such a hppy life bc of u


You have to be listening closely. Phones are ringing all over the world, and sometimes they look like magical forests, and sometimes they look like race cars, and sometimes they look like surgical residents.




Originally posted by its-foley

Pairing: Justin Foley x Reader

Request: “8 - Justin Foley”


8. “What do you think? Let’s give it another shot?”

Word count: 1.294

Posted: 13th of May 2017

A/N: This is one of my lovely Aja’s request. I am my way through her list of requests and I completed like four over eighteen of her prompt requests. I love you so much Aja, but keep an eye out for my revenge! Thank you.

P.S: I am not accepting part 2 requests as I am trying to finish my requests. Sorry.

- G. x

Link: Prompt List

Warning: a little bit of swearing, sorry.

“Justin, what the hell is this?” Your eyes grew wide as you saw the amusement ride that you were falling in line for. It was a high roller coaster full of loops and you knew what might happen after it.

“Babe, it will be fun!” Your boyfriend, Justin, excitedly exclaimed and a knot was formed in your stomach as you heard the defeating shouts from the current passengers of the ride.

“I am backing out!” You pulled your hand from Justin’s grip and you turned around to get out of it, but the line was already long and crowded. “Damn it!”

“C'mon, (Y/N)! This is fun!” Zach exclaimed as he adored your terrified and scared face.

“Dude, I’m shitting on myself during this ride.” You honestly said and your friends, that stood in front of you and Justin, laughed loudly. You playfully pouted at them to let them show that you were offended because of their actions.

“I’m by your side, love.” Justin assured you as he held your hand tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “We can do this together.”

“Jus, you love these extreme rides. It’s easy for you to say that!” You debated and you felt a little more nervous and anxious as you saw the line moving forward, you were getting near, little by little, to the entrance.

You’ve never loved feeling the adrenaline rush kissing your skin and your internal organs, but your boyfriend did and he would always drag you to different amusement parks with his friends. You would hate him whenever he would force you to ride something that you didn’t like, but you would end up loving it, because he would whisper sweet things to you and he would embrace you tightly to assure you that he would always be with you.

“I know, but I can assure you that you will love this one too.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips as you forcefully pulled a fake and terrified smile. “You’re brave, right?”

“Yeah, whatever!” You rolled your eyes and you gained some laughs from your friends. They teased Justin and he just laughed at them, still being excited for the ride. “I hate you, Jus!”

“I love you more, my princess.” Justin winked at you to vex you even more and you rolled your eyes once again. You playfully nudged him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He gave you a kiss on your temple and it seriously made you smile.

You loved Justin so much and you couldn’t lie about it, because he wasn’t just perfect, but he was also a complete dork and goofy. He was also fun to be with, although he would force you to do something adventurous and scary.

“Ready?” Justin smirked as you he buckled your seatbelt tightly.

“Jus, you know that the answer would always be no.” You unleashed a heavy sigh and he gave you another kiss on your lips to assure you. He buckled his seatbelt too and then he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, my princess.” Justin said before the ride had started. You smiled at him widely, shaking off a little bit of your nervousness and taking out your braveness.

“I love you too, Jus!” You replied to him as the ride slowly started its engine. “Oh My God!”

“We can do it!” Justin grabbed your hand and he held it tightly. You seriously felt safe by feeling his touch, you bit your lip as the rollercoaster reached its highest point. “Ready?” Justin smirked playfully to tease you and you tightly closed your eyes.

“Fuck you, Justin!” You sassily swore and you tightly sealed your mouth, trying not to shout for the anxiety that you were having that moment. Justin just laughed as he adored your scared facial expression.

Justin’s laughter suddenly vanished and an enjoyed and happy holler was heard in his voice. You felt your heart falling in your stomach as the ride fell down and sped up, following its track with its maximum speed.

The heavy and harsh cold wind kissed your smooth and soft skin as you had your highs and your lows. Your hair was flying everywhere and it followed you as the ride took some of its high loops. You tightened your grip on Justin’s hands, scratching a little bit of his skin with your nails, and you shouted uncontrollably to expel the terror that you felt in your bones. You fought back with the dizziness that you felt as you took some curves and you kept on hoping to reach the end of the ride quickly.

“Thank God!” You shouted loudly as soon as the ride stopped on its end. You earned some laughs from the people around you and you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt as you tried to dismiss your dizziness and the empty feeling in your stomach.

“Babe,” Justin called you as you walked towards a tree limply. He was worried for your state and it was obvious in his voice. “shit!”

You suddenly felt sick and empty, your senses were everything but enthusiastic.

“Are you okay?” Justin asked you as he rubbed your back. You felt like you were about to expel the food that you had earlier in the morning, but it was quickly stopped as you drank from the water bottle that Jessica gave you.

You somehow felt better and you finally had a chance to breathe without any problems.

“Sorry, Babe.” Justin pouted as he felt guilty by seeing you in that situation. He wanted for you to have fun and not to feel sick. It wasn’t his intentions to make you feel bad.

“It was okay, babe.” You weakly smiled at him as you handed him the empty water bottle. “Sorry for scratching your hand, instead.”

“It’s fine, baby!” The group laughed as they saw Justin’s a little bit red hand, still with your nail scratches and shapes. He helped you to balance your weight as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Good job, (Y/N)!” Jessica cheered and you gained some hollers and claps from your friends. You laughed at them as you slowly felt better, your dizziness faded and the terror was already flushed.

“Are you feeling better now?” Alex asked you with a worried expression on his face. You knew that your friends cared too much for you and you thanked them for that.

“Yup, thanks Lex!” You cheerfully nodded and your body was filled with the energy that you lost during the ride.

“Really?” Your boyfriend happily asked and you nodded in response. “So…” He cheekily smirked at you and you corrugated your forehead as you were curious to know what was in his mind.

“So?” Your friends asked in unison, also curious of Justin’s plans.

What do you think? Let’s give it another shot?” Justin excitedly asked and he quickly received some judging face from your friends.

“Fuck you, Foley!” You playfully slapped him several times and he just let out a loud laugh as he noticed how annoyed you were. “Seriously, fuck you!”

“I love you too, my princess!” Justin winked at you as he held his stomach for his contagious laughs. You couldn’t help but smile as you shook your irritated expression off and playfully shook your head in disbelief.

“Asshole!” Your friends jokingly insulted him and you all let out noisy chuckles, being happy that you were all together.

Honestly? You felt lucky that Justin was there to guide you and to teach you how to be brave by taking some risks. He knew that life was like a rollercoaster ride, it had its ups and downs and Justin wanted you to be an independent woman, nevertheless he would always be by your side.

anonymous asked:

I saw rabidfairyshakestinyfist's ask and I was thinking, couldn't Lance had shards of balmera crystal embedded in his back after the explosion? So maybe he draws power from those, maybe they even grow the more he ovedoes it which could cause problems with the shards affecting his spine and/or internal organs.


what if he got like tattoos made of crushed crystal or smth over his scars that would be lit

Huntress- Part 13: Trust

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E13 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Your feet padded quietly on the floorboards of the Bunker as you neared the voices. Dad had his back to you, typing away on his laptop, Uncle Dean was leaning over him, staring at whatever was on the screen. 

You had a cup of tea in hands as you wandered up behind them.

“Found a case?” You asked, making Uncle Dean jump. 
“The hell did you come from?” He looked at you with a frown.
“Europe.”You mumbled, reading the screen.

Dad chuckled before saying “Yeah, a Museum not too far away. Someone had their tongue ripped out…”
“Ouch.” You grimaced.
“…Yeah, but that didn’t kill them.” 
You tilted your head questioningly.
“Having their internal organs crushed did.”


“Sure is.” Uncle Dean huffed, his eyes squinting as he read over the article. You took a sip, the warmth of the mug spreading through to the palms of your hands.

“I take it you’re coming, Kid.” Uncle Dean looked at you expectantly. You nodded, grabbing a hair-tie from your wrist and tying your hair up into a bunche. 

Dad sighed, but didn’t say anything. He knew you’d probably end up finding a way, it was safer if you all stayed together.

“I’ll call Mom,” Uncle Dean broke the slight tension before it grew to too much “See if she wants to help out.”

“Okay.” Dad nodded, closing his laptop slightly and adjusting himself so he was facing you.
“Sleep well?” He asked in such a way you felt obliged to answer truthfully.
“Kinda.” You shrugged.
Dad nodded, thankful you didn’t outright lie, he could tell you trusted him more than you initially did.

“If you can’t sleep, it’s okay to tell me. I’m not going to be angry at you.”

“I know…thanks.” You didn’t want to offend him, but there was really nothing he could have done to help.

“Offering a tight smile, he looked up when Uncle Dean re-entered the room. “Okay, looks like it’s just gonna be the three of us,” He bitterly declared. Before you could question why he added: “Let’s go.”

You enjoyed car journeys. There was so much more land in America so the roads weren’t too busy and it gave you lots of time to listen to music or play dumb games. It was the simple things, but they made a difference.

You took out an earphone whenever they seemed to be talking about anything interesting.
“Wait, you said Mom was…”too tired” right?” Dad asked his brother, making sure he had his facts straight.
“Yep” Uncle Dean snapped. He was obviously not buying the “tired” excuse. To be fair, it was an excuse you’d often find yourself losing.

“What?” Dad frowned.
“I don’t know..I just feel like something’s going on and she doesn’t wanna talk about it.” Uncle Dean admitted his suspicions.
“She’s back into Hunting, she just needs time. We can’t expect her to be perfectly okay.”
“Yeah. I guess…”

You sighed, watching them go back and forth. Of course Mary had every right to hunt on her own, to have any secrets she wants to keep, to be away from her family and still love them. But Uncle Dean appeared to have different ideas, he was family driven and couldn’t get his head around the fact that she didn’t want to be with them all of the time.

From what Mary had told you, it sounded like she’d spent the earlier years of her life running from the Hunting life, to be dragged back in…it couldn’t have been easy.

You wouldn’t be able to cope if Dad hadn’t wanted you to stay, if you’d have to go back to live in The Chapter House…

After a solid fifteen minutes of waiting in the car, you’d just about had enough of not being able to know what’s going on. No, you couldn’t pretend to be an FBI agent, but you didn’t have to.

Instead of waiting for Dad and Uncle Dean to arrive back from the Museum, you got out of the car and marched in. You held your head high and walked straight past a few people, acting like you were meant to be there.
No one questioned you or stopped you from walking in. When you spotted the “FBI” you strode over and leaned over Uncle Dean’s shoulder: “Sup.”

He jumped, staring at you with wide eyes soon turning to a disapproved frown. You giggled, having managed to scare him for the second time that day.
“Y/N?” Dad walked over to where you were, looking confused “How did you get in here?”

“Walked through the door.” You explained, looking at the cabinets filled with antiques and relics. “Anything interesting?”
“People don’t question you if you look like you know what you’re doing.” You shrugged, earning a small smile from the pair of them. 

“Okay I’m changing my vote to a ghost, this place is full of EMF.” Uncle Dean looked down at the small machine in his hand.
“That’s actually pretty normal for a Museum, all these antiques everywhere. there’s bound to be a few pissed of spirits.” Dad gently argued.

“Hey, check this out.” Dad pointed to the front of some sort of ship, forcing you and Uncle Dean to move closer to get a better look.
“The Star.” You read, picking up an information booklet, “Sunk in 1723…”

“Wait, I know something about something,” Uncle Dean held a finger up, making you pause “Gavin McLeod.”

You scrunched your face up “Who?”

“Crowley’s kid?!” Dad looked half impressed an half confused.

“Crowley’s got a kid?” You wonder aloud.

“Yeah, uh, long story.” Uncle Dean quickly dismissed the chance to recite it for you; you were beginning to think everything was a long story. “But, this is Gavin’s ship.”

Speaking of the King Of Hell, his caller ID appeared on Uncle Dean’s phone.
“Hey Crowley.” He sighed, putting it on loud speaker.
“I can’t believe you! You idiots let Lucifer’s lovechild live?!”
“How do you know about that?” Dad interrogated.
“I don’t owe you an explanation!”
“Oh great- that’s reassuring.” You rolled your eyes.
“I guess this is a bad time to ask you if you can ask Gavin to come over?”
“Why on Earth would I want to do that?!”
“We don’t owe you an explanation.” You echoed his excuse, making him scoff.
“Look, Crowley. When we let Gavin live in our world, possibly screwing up the rest of history and time, we didn’t hunt him down. So yeah, you do owe us something.” Uncle Dean explained, unfortunately, Crowley didn’t seem convinced.
“I can’t believe you three!” He hissed before hanging up.

“That’s a fascinating story,” Rowena smiled sickly, her Scottish accent filling the room “But you said there was something in it for me?” 
Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and leaned back.
“We’re gonna need your help to-

“I said for me.” She sighed, collecting her things and standing up to leave. Your Dad rose from his chair, grabbing her arm and holding her in position: “Sit down.” 

She hesitated, deciding whether to do so or not.Swallowing, she sat back down. Glaring at your Dad. Her eyes fluttered back to normal as she adjusted her position, getting comfortable.

“When we discover this eye witness, we can get our valuable information and you, well, you’ll want to meet them.” Uncle Dean promised.

“Who is this eye witness?” Rowena asked, her curiosity taking over her as she waited for someone to speak.

Your Dad smirked, looking between you and his brother. 

Sandwiched between your Dad and your Uncle, the three of you watched as the coach pulled up. It was large and silver, with one of those compartments for luggage.
“Gavin!” They called as a younger man walked off of the steps. He had dark brown hair, a navy trench coat and a satchel with his belongings. He strode over to you all, his eyes falling on yours. “Gavin, this is my daughter, Y/N.”
Dad shook hands with him, gesturing to you slightly.
“Y/N,” Gavin echoed “Hello.”
“Hey.” You greeted, noting his accent was much like Rowenas.

“You’re English!” He seemed more excited about this than you’d thought he’d be.
“Sure am.” You chuckled.

“So uh….how’s my Father?” He seemed to be asking you, making you back up slightly.

“About that,” Dad cleared his throat “We may have exaggerated…a little.”
“We lied.” Uncle Dean admitted “We lied.”
“We need your help-”
“Help!” He called, frightening one of the travelers as they walked past. You giggled as Uncle Dean tried to usher him away, assuring him no help was actually needed.
“We wanted to ask you about this.” You got your phone out and held up a picture of the ship.
“That’s the Star!” He grinned, squinting his eyes to see “That’s my ship!”

“Yeah it should have been.” Dad nodded, looking up as a car sounded.
A taxi parked and a certain Witch got out. Gavin looked up, confused. “You look just like my father when he was young” She grinned.
He frowned.
“Gavin, this is Rowena, you’re Grandmother.”
“My Grandmother…She can’t be alive.”
“Neither can you, mate.” You huffed “Don’t question it.”

“I would have thought all the wreckage would still be at the bottom of the Atlantic!” Gavin grinned as he studied the front of his ship back in the Museum. He walked around it a few dozen times, looking it up and down in fascination.

“Here’s a folder of what they recovered, recognise anything?” You handed him the folder, hoping to speed things up a little without sounding too rude. People’s lives were at stake.

“Amazing.” He said, eagerly taking it from your hands.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at him and leaning on the table behind.

“Nope…Nope…Nope” He flicked through the pages, glancing at the photos. You shared a look with your Dad, making him smirk.

“My God,” Gavin placed the folder on the table open on the page “That’s the locket.”
“The locket?” Dad questioned.

You leaned in, examining the picture and scanning the paragraph of information for anything useful or interesting.
“It’s the locket I bought…for my Fiona”
“Darlin’, you had a we girlfriend!” Rowena squealed.
“Fiona Dunken.” He said proudly.

“Hey.” Uncle Dean called you over to where he and your Dad were stood. You backed up to where they were, looking up expectantly.
“It’s missing.” He said, pointing at a stand.
“Maybe the ghost of this Fiona took it.” Dad suggested.

“My Fiona’s a ghost?!” Gavin butted in, looking insulted anyone would suggest such a thing.
“She’s vengeful, she wants clarity…She’s also very dangerous.” You sighed, knowing full well he wouldn’t want to hear this. His eyes said it all, they were shocked and barely managing to process the information you were telling him.

You stood behind your Dad and Uncle as they stormed in, shotguns armed with salt-bullets. Dad took a shot at the ghost-who must have been Fiona- she disintegrated through smoke. There was no doubt she’d be back soon.
 As she did so, you had to physically hold Gavin back so he didn’t run in to see if it truly was her. He struggled in your grip, making you press your thumb into one of the pressure points along the arm. He stopped struggling “Ow!”
“Don’t move then!” You hissed, letting him go since the ghost was gone.
Rowena watched with disapproval “Hush!”.

Holding his arm, he pouted “Okay…now what?”

“We need you to speak with her. We need to be sure it is her.” Dad explained. He lowered his gun fully and offered Gavin an encouraging smile.

“Oh restless spirit, make thy presence known to me…”

You waited on the other side of the door with Rowena, Uncle Dean and Dad. The ghost would be more likely to show if he was on his own. However, you had fully loaded firearms on the table to your right in case things got messy.

“…Fiona…’tis I: Gavin…”

You all waited in silence, straining to hear for cries of help. You had to prepare for the worst case scenario- just in case. As they spoke their voices became more and more louder and it appeared to be becoming an argument more than a conversation.
You noticed your Dad looking over to the shotguns, as if contemplating reaching for one. He licked his lips in thought before looking away. The room fell silent and you looked up at Dad.

He opened the door slowly, Uncle Dean holding a weapon just in case.

The three of you peered in to see Gavin stood in the middle of the room, watching an empty space with sorry eyes which was probably where Fiona had stood.

“Was it her?” Rowena asked, moving towards where he stood.
“Aye, it was Fiona.” He nodded slowly, his face hardened and he added “But not my Fiona.”

“So…we’re all agreed she needs to be stopped?” Dad spoke. Every nodded in response. “How? We can’t burn her bones if she’s at the bottom of the ocean?” You weren’t trying to be a pessimist, but you hadn’t any other ideas.
“Well,” Uncle Dean cleared his throat, eyeing Gavin “There might be a way to fix everything.”
“No.” Rowena snapped, meanwhile you were let to catch on. “We’re not sending him to his death. That’s not a solution.”
“Actually, I was thinking the same thing. If I go back in time and board the ship, time would go as it was supposed to.” Gavin agreed.

“You can send someone back in time?” You asked, intrigued,
“Aye, that’s how I arrived in the twenty first century. It’s a long story.” Gavin nodded.
“Isn’t everything…” You mumbled.

“Never gonna happen.” A certain King Of Hell decided to show his face. “Just because your family’s a mess doesn’t mean you get to mess with mine!” He shouted at the three of you. You frowned at the word “mess”.
“Let him go Fergus!” Rowena hissed.
“If you want to go so badly then why did you call me?!” Crowley ignored his Mother.
“You called him?” Uncle Dean said.
“Yes…I called you,” Gavin hesitated “I called you to say goodbye.”
Crowley stiffened and his head rose with realisation. 

Standing up to leave, Crowley reached out to stop his son. However Rowena held up her hand and chanted a sharp spell, making Crowley freeze. “…Mother…” He hummed, raising an eyebrow at her.

You watched with anticipation, unsure as to whether you could really have a valuable opinion on someone else’s situation. 
Gavin waled past, turning round to his Dad and saying “I’m sorry, Father…”

You watched as Dad prepared the last of the spell. Standing next to Uncle Dean, Gavin wondered over to join you both and sighed. “You ready?” You asked, glancing at his pale face.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

Dad held a blade up to his palm and sliced through, Gavin winced but didn’t say anything as he squeezed his blood into the bowl of ingredients.
“Are you sure this’ll work?” He asked.
“We’ve never actually done it before,” Uncle Dean admitted “But other family members have.”
You added “Plus Rowena tweaked the spell.”

“Hey, uh, Gavin,” Dad gently caught his attention “You’re a good guy. Thank you.”

Gavin nodded ad moved so he was stood in front of the three of you. He nodded “Hopefully, this is all for the best.” 

As Dad read the spell Fiona appeared at his side, her body translucent with a murky yellow tinge. The pair of them turned to face each other, both smiling and hands reaching for each others. Their bodies began to change so they both had a middle-ground between being see through and tangible. Then, as softly as she had appeared, they were whisked away back in time. 

You kept your eyes on the empty space. Gavin was nice. It was hard to believe Crowley was his father, although, something told you the King Of Hell had more of a heart than he let on.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you roll off of your bed to get into a position where you could answer it. You looked down at the caller ID and scowled. It was him again.
Why couldn’t that bastard just leave you alone?!
You’d had it.

“What?” You snapped, finally answering.



“Finally, why are you suddenly ignoring me?” He questioned.

“Why are you always calling me?” You were trying to keep your volume to a minimum. At this point, you didn’t want your Dad getting involved.

“Look, I get that you belong with your…Dad.” He had a hard time getting the word out “But you can still work with us. The idea was that you got us into the Winchester’s good books.”

“I never agreed to the bleeding idea in the first place!” You protested.

Sam Winchester stood outside your bedroom door, leaning against the wall and straining to hear. He listened curiously.

“Y/N, you trust us don’t you?” The man asked.
You didn’t answer.
“You trust me don’t you?” He altered the question a little in hopes for a response.
“I don’t know anymore…”
“Who do you trust?” He asked in such a way you could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he calculated a plan to re-earn your trust.
“I trusted Max…” You whispered.
“I know you did.”
“Your Dad?” He suggested.
My Dad?” You echoed, realising you didn’t know if you did or not. Sam lifted his head at the mention of himself. “I think I trust him…but I trusted you and look where that got me.”
“Y/N, I didn’t want to do that to you either. I’ve changed. Your Mum changed me.”
“My Mum’s dead.” You retorted “Change yourself.” 

As you approach your Dad and Uncle, they seemed to be talking about the case and how Cas still hasn’t found out much on Kelly. You silently agree before sitting down next to your Dad. 
He shoots you a frown, but doesn’t question what you’d been doing. “You okay?” He asked, perhaps hoping you’d explain.
“Mmmhmm.” You smiled.

He could have wanted to push you to say more, but Mary walking down the steps turned all attention away from you. 
“It’s been a while,” Uncle Dean expresses “A long long long while.” You kicked your Uncle’s shin from under the table, making him flinch “Ow!”
You stuck your tongue out at him, making Mary roll her eyes.

“I brought beers and burgers.” She declared. Mary placed the bags down on the table, smiling at you. You smiled back, thinking she had more to say.
“Forgiven.” Uncle Dean grinned, ripping open the case of beers.

“So, uh, what’ve you been up to?” Dad asked her, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh you know, chasing vampires, shooting werewolves, melting rugaru brains.”
Your head shot up at the mention and you squinted your eyes at her suspiciously. “What?” Uncle Dean questioned her.

She looked down and suddenly the happy family atmosphere was gone.

Realisation hit you: “You’ve been working with them…haven’t you?” She directy looked at you, guilty eyes and a tired stance. “There’s no easy way to say it…”

“I just did.” You snapped “You’re welcome.”


“Mom…” Dad sighed “We have a history with them.”

“I know, Sam. But what they’re doing, it’s incredible. We’ve saved so many lives-”

We? So you’re a we now?” Uncle Dean interrogated. The betrayal in his voice was harsh and thick. 

You watched as they went back and forth. You knew the most about The British Men Of Letters, they weren’t necessarily bad people… It was complicated and you thought you’d finally gotten out.
Truth was, you did miss parts of it. The Hunting they’d prepared you for was certainly easier and more effective. They’d practically wiped out every Supernatural species in the UK. 
It wasn’t all bad…you just wished they hadn’t kept your Dad from you for so long. And what they did to Mum… you couldn’t just forgive them for that.

“Don’t give me the face.” Mary folded her arms across her chest at her eldest.
“What face?”
The face.”
“There is no face.”
“That face!” She pointed at your Uncle, her voice loud.

“Mom…we don’t trust the Brits.” Your Dad trailed off when he spoke, noticing you becoming more and more awkward between the three of them.

“So where does that leave us?” Uncle Dean stood tall.

“Same as always. Family. Please, just hear me out.”

Part Fourteen- Pick A Side


I do not won these gifs

A/N: I’ve kinda worked my butt off all day to get this finished *phew*. Time to start planning for the next part I guess \_(-_-)_/

(Tag list after cut)

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Love Wayhaught? Want to own this banner signed by Emily Andras, Lora Innes, Kat Barrell, and Dominique Provost-Chalkley? Well, you’re in luck! Go put in your bids for this lovely work–the proceeds will be donated to Love146, an international human rights organization working to end child trafficking and exploitation through survivor care and prevention. 

Earpers, let’s signal boost this and get the word out! Bid here!

i know they probably did it without thinking too much about Lore and rather more about Visual Aesthetics but i genuinely love that asura dentition changes between face presets?? like for those unaware if you catch ur asura w/ a mouth open animation or half-clip your camera into their face you can actually see that their teeth placement differs between faces and its Really Neato….. there’s a face with needley venus-flytrap-like-placement teeth, a few dif faces with weird pointy rat teeth, etc etc

i MIGHT BE WRONG as theres undoubtably at least one species out there that exists to be the exception to this rule but, while humans can have teeth go askew or have dif genetic changes that result in dif lookin teeth, as a general rule of thumb within a species you dont have /the entire tooth shapes and placement changing/ from individual to individual to the extent that they might as well be from dif species…. it’s Genuinely Very Cool and i continue to love the idea that asura morphology is actually ridiculously diverse

ID #58829

Name: Mia

Age: 16

Country: United States

Hi! My name is Mia and I live in central New York. I’m 16 and I go to an urban, public high school. My interests include an international organization called Seeds of Peace (which I love to talk all about), musical theatre, and obsessing over bands (Coldplay & Panic! At The Disco in particular.), traveling (was just in Italy for a week in April & Costa Rica in August.), and speaking, reading, & writing Spanish (I have almost completed my 4th year of studying it.). Looking for someone ariund my age to chat with from anywhere!

Preferences: 15-20

CS Modern AU fic: Sit, Stay, Feel (Ch. 1 Sick as a dog)

Modern AU: Emma Swan is the owner of Pet Savior — a dog training/walking/sitting service. Killian Jones, and his dog Gale, are her clients.

This will be multi-chapter, just not sure how many quite yet. You can also find it on AO3 and

I will return to “Drinks with the Prince” before the next ep. My brain refuses to be the kind of angsty it needs to be to write it just now. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the start of this tale…or tail as the case may be. ;)


“There’s my good girl,” Emma said as she popped the front seat of her yellow Bug forward and grabbed the leash of the Black Lab jumping out of the back seat.

The dog wagged her entire hindquarters, thumping her tail against the car hard enough that Emma shooed her out of the way so the pup wouldn’t hurt herself…or dent her car. She rummaged around in her pocket for the keys to the house, and when she finally separated the right one out from all the others with a loud jingle, she gave the dog a big grin, rubbed her soft, floppy, dark ear and scratched under her chin. “Let’s get you inside,” she said, nodding to the bungalow-style house they were parked in front of. The two jogged up the driveway to the garage where Emma unlocked the side door. Emma used the garage entrance so she could clean up the dog before heading into the house proper. She always made sure she wiped the dog’s feet before going in as a courtesy to the owners — especially after a muddy walk like they just had. As she opened the door, she stopped short.

“Oh! Huh. Looks like I finally get to meet your Daddy, hey girl?” Emma asked, looking over her shoulder at the dog who was trying to push past without success. They squeezed by the vintage black Jeep parked in the usually empty spot, over to the door that lead to the breezeway into the house.

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Hello,” Sherlock slurs up to him with the most agonizingly exquisite smile, his voice lazy and beautifully thick as he miraculously achieves what the doctor has asked, “You were correct, John, Christmas has come early. It’s perfect—no. It’s not merely perfect, it’s abhorrently brilliant. I have a part of you. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Best one yet. I love this holiday.”

“You,” John says with a dismaying twist of his own lips as he carefully brushes his fingertips against the inside of Sherlock’s white wrist, as he almost had done so many times before, “are higher than bloody a kite right now.”

“You love me.”

“Right, yes, I wouldn’t really—I just. You remember, brilliant. Good deduction, that. Saves us a bit of an awkward conversation later, I suppose.”

“You love me and I have an internal organ of yours.” Sherlock says up to him as if it’s the most ground breaking deduction of his life, his eyes practically ablaze with very heavy pain killers, “It’s Christmas. It’s thirty four Christmases worth of gifts. I asked for a kidney, and I received your own. Oh, Father Christmas, you are brilliant, I never doubted your abilities, really, it was all just an act.

#BestYearEver: Travel More

7 handy packing advice tips, plus must-have travel essentials for her and him

This year, make less talking and more doing your number one priority, and plan that dream trip you’ve always wanted to take. If there’s one piece of advice we’ve heard over and over again, it’s travel as much as you can. Life’s short, so live it to the fullest! Expand your mind, experience different food and cultures, and don’t worry about the money. Not all trips have to be elaborate and expensive. Budget trips can be just as fun, and possibly even a bit more enlightening. So, start researching tickets today and make traveling one of 2015’s top to-dos.

Packing 101

Once you’ve booked your tickets, come back here for packing advice. From making sure you aren’t bringing too much stuff to the best way to save space in your suitcase, see seven tips that will make your life easier. 

1. Pack light. We start off with the most important tip - do not overpack. You’re bag will be too heavy and you can always buy more when you get to your travel destination. 

2. Pack basics. When you’re packing your bags, make sure you take pieces that are versatile so that you can mix and match. Leave your bold pieces at home.

3. Roll your clothes. To save some space in your bag, roll up your clothes. Lay them on the ground, fold in the corners and roll up from the bottom. 

4. Carryons are key. Try to fit all your things into carryon luggage. That way your bag will never get lost or go missing. 

5. Invest in noise canceling headphones. One of the best ways to actual get some rest on the plane is by wearing a pair of these headphones. Your world will change, for the better.

6. Dress comfortable. Nothing’s worse than having a pair of stiff jeans to wear while you’re traveling. Wear comfy clothing that’s easy to move in.  

7. Have fun! Be flexible when you travel. Not everything will go as planned, but that’s ok. The more carefree you are, the more fun you will have. 

Shop Travel Essentials

Now that you’re going to be traveling more, you’re going to need some help packing your bags. Update your gear and shop the best travel essentials below.

Top 10 Travel Essentials for Her

Super Leger International Carry On Luggage

One Love Organics Travel Kit

Beats by Dr. Dre Headphones, Beats Mixr On-Ear Headphones

Precious Metals Wallet

ASOS V-Neck Sweater With Travelling Rib

Avenue Pant

Vince Bogart Python-Print Slip-On, Black/White

Go Clean Beach Set

ASOS Novelty Makeup Bag & Eye Mask Set

Diptyque Eau Rose Hand Lotion

Want to search for more travel essentials for her? Head to our search bar here to shop over 150 stores, all in one place.

Top 10 Travel Essentials for Him


Belting Passport Cover, Personalized

Beats by Dr. Dre Studio 2.0 Over-Ear Headphones

The Art of Shaving Travel Kit & Razor -Sandalwood

Ginger Flight Therapy

F1 4-in-1 Adapter

Down Sweater Vest

USB Travel Adaptor

Hollister Fleece Joggers

Nike Men’s Zoom Speed TR 2 Training Sneakers from Finish Line

Want to search for more travel essentials for him? Head to our search bar here to shop over 150 stores, all in one place.

Some lovers were never lovers, they were only nicotine laced toxic. A former smoker may long for the feeling of a cigarette between his lips every now and then. Does this mean he is in love with cigarettes? No. This is not love. There’s a difference between love and unhealthy addictions. Love does not kill you. Love does not darken the color of your internal organs. Love does not make it hard to breathe.

Remember, this when you crave to hear the voice of someone who once suffocated your lively heart; there is a difference between love and nicotine.

—  Hannah Sofia Ghani, Love & Nicotine
Today’s subject: Hisau Maiya [Person]

Source: Fate/Zero material (2008-08-08), p.102

Fate/Zero Dictionary

Emiya Kiritsugu’s assistant. Also his lover, in a certain sense of the word.

Due to growing up utterly deprived of humanity, Maiya lacks a strong sense of self, and has given her entire being to Emiya Kiritsugu. Asking her if she loves him would be the same as asking the internal organs if they love the brain – completely meaningless.

And, regardless of what others might say, for Kiritsugu sacrificing his wife to complete the Holy Grail was a betrayal of their love. However, it was a betrayal which he absolutely must not hesitate to perform. His sexual relationship with Maiya, then, was simply a rehearsal for this betrayal – a form of masochism to calm his nerves.

This is already pretty much the worst reason for having an affair, but the fact that Maiya valued it makes it an endless vicious cycle. Shirou, whatever you do, never ask your old man for advice on women…

Though her skill at sorcery is only a little better than Kara no Kyoukai’s Azaka, she is a professional assassin capable of using any tool to kill no matter how crude it may be. So in that sense, she is a user of “deadly sorcery”.

If push came to shove, she would be able to kill somebody with nothing more than a simple wooden skewer from a yakitori restaurant.

By the way, this is just a digression but Maiya has an absolutely devastating sweet tooth. There’s actually an urban legend passed around among store clerks about a mysterious woman who would always show up at cake buffets all alone and start gulping down desserts one after the other with a sour look on her face. Of course, Maiya herself would die of shame if anybody ever found out about this.

things girls do that i love:

  • convert oxygen into carbon dioxide using their internal organs alone
  • possess the FOXP2 gene rendering them capable of communicative speech
  • omnivorous mastication via specialized dentition
  • possess skull and neck structures passed down through thousands of years of evolution specifically to help enable upright locomotion 
  • rarely have an occipital bun