2

It’s been years. Long, full years that have passed since the Winchesters took their last breaths. It was a frosty night, filled with blood, sweat and tears as Sam held his bigger brother’s hand just before his own world went black.

All he hoped for as his last wish was that wherever he was went, Dean would be waiting for him. It didn’t matter if it were heaven or hell, it just mattered to him if they were together because even in death he just couldn’t imagine being without Dean.

At this point in time, the Impala still stood where Dean had driven it last. It was untouched. Except for the bubbles of rust on her once pristine, shiny, black body and the long grass weaving its way inside the place that once used to be home.

It was still home.

Their souls tied to the car, like she was stitched into their very being. The only other constant in their lives except for each other. Things are simpler now, both of them existing between worlds. Made of smoke and stories. Most nights they just sit on the hood of the car, watching the stars in complete silence just like they did in life. It was weird the way they just needed each other to be okay.

Then one day, Sam watched a boy walk up to the car, his fingertips trailing over the roof. The same admiration and glee he often noticed in Dean’s eyes when he saw cars, sparkling in the eyes of someone that reminded Sam of who he used to be.

Before he knew it, Baby was hurtling down highways again, carrying two men that reminded Sam of his own life. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. Dean would often mess with the stereo, the soundtracks to their lives blaring through the speakers as the legos rattled. It reminded the new hunters of the history they were apart of and the history they were going to make.

Sprawled out in the backseat, Sam’s head on Dean’s lap as they listened to the young hunters in the front, who were completely oblivious to their presence.

“You know who’s car this was? It belong to Sam and Dean. The Winchesters. The goddamn Winchesters.”

“No way. No frikkin’ way. There’s no way they would have left this beauty.”

“I heard they died.”

Sam tilted his head upwards to look at Dean. There’s a smile on Dean’s face that made his heart warm.

They never die. Not really. At least not forever.

So as you know I made a new Sans named Soda Machine Sans! I know he seem stupid but I actually have a pretty good backstory even though it’s really sad.. so pretty much he was a sans that was a failed experiment and Who made him decided to sell him, and who bought him had a whole bunch of spare parts laying around, they did this to Sans, aka Cherry Coke. He was then sold again to a store owner which owns a fast food restaurant wherever else he goes and pretty much he’s just a soda machine that stands somewhere in the storm ever the owner wants him to. There’s another machine and it is a Papyrus, but it’s a smoothie maker…….. (lmao) at night all the machines are unplugged, but the owner doesn’t unplug sans. So, he’s up all night alone and overtired, then he has to deal with the stupid customers that come in, in the day. Some kids Will spam his buttons until all he does is throw up and then He;ll get in trouble for it! One customer he really likes though is Ink Sans, because he’s the only customer that really cares about him. Will reprogram them selves to make any drink that Ink wants. They have a short conversation and get to know each other better.. well,no dunno, just a stupid idea

Rip sorry @comyet pretty lame idea huh—— idk ;; I don’t wanna seem like i want attention by shipping my Sans with yours aaaa sorry

7

“Sometimes what you think is an end is only a beginning.“


Pre-Kerberos/Pre-Voltron photo manip set! It’s been far too long since I made these things.  c:

The only images that were not manipulated (short of some coloring adjustments) were the ship image and the last photo. I had to give poor Keith a hair trim, too.

For those of you waiting for requests from forever ago… Sorry it’s taken so long. I’m still gonna make attempt to get some of them done soon. ;;;

Click each image for better quality!

Other stuff I’ve made

I drew this pic for @maerynn-blog‘s birthday a few days ago and showed it to her, but forgot to post it here!  Whoops!  I asked her for ideas on what to draw (cuz I’m really great at surprising people lolol) and she proposed Chat-dad plus cute backpack baby on patrol (you gotta do what you gotta do when you can’t find a babysitter!).  X3

Baby’s Catbug outfit was 90% accidental; when someone on my Picarto stream pointed it out I changed the hat color to match the rest of the getup.  XD

tim believes in cryptids bc like?? “Listen. Jason, listen. My best friend is an alien. Half the Justice League are either aliens or magical beings. It’s not farfetched to believe that Nessie is alive and real. I’m pretty sure I’ve met Mothman. They are real and they are among us.”

“Remind me to never talk to you again Tim wtf”

you know what quote kills me?

what if i’ve gone bad?”

harry potter, who was left for years to deal with abuse and neglect, who’s constantly questioning how he’s supposed to feel, how he’s supposed to react to these insanely horrible situations, who has the capability to not let his hand fell the man who sold out his parents

who has had to watch friends and guardians and loved ones die for a cause he never asked to be in 

what if i’ve gone bad?”

there’s too much fear and worry in that question. and that after so much resilience and strength, harry questions this about himself - it goes to show how little support for mental health and trauma there is in the wizarding world, of how large an oversight it was for the adults to have left him to deal with the aftermath of all this by himself. at the very core he’s still a kid. capable, yes, extremely so. but emotionally taken care of?

he’s just a kid. just harry.