I recall you mentioning S10 was a dark season, could you tell me your reasons? Thank you!
*whispers* I do not like to think back on that season. Dark times. Dark times… *mutters and wanders*
A shorter list, perhaps, would be why was season 10 not an absolute soul-sucker of a heart-rending season? Its contents:
Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum exist.
Some kids did a play, I guess.
Sam playing with the stage lighting.
But why was s10 a dark season? I’ll hit the highlights:
Sam, as a character, was systematically torn to shreds both by the show and by the fandom for pretty much every single choice he made.
No, really. He was a shadow of himself.
None of the events of s9 came up. Sam’s perfectly reasonable “Same circumstances, (if you feared possession like I do,) I wouldn’t (let an angel have a joyride in your body)” got reduced to a repeated refrain of “Why Sam is a Bad Brother reason #974″
Double standards for miles. It was a hard, hard intro to fandom on this website. I think I still have scars.
I enjoy the character of Cole Trenton. Would have enjoyed him more if s10 didn’t create him to torture Sam and then bring him back to make him work with Sam without mentioning the brutal torture or, I dunno, him apologizing for it.
Sam started the season in a Mystery Spot-esque headspace, willing to do anything to save Dean. We had a brief interlude where his Demon brother tried to beat him to death with household repair implements. Then, Sam was half a minute away from bleeding his last droplets of blood into a bowl to try to save Dean because that’s what his life comes to haha (hnghhh that was a super solid episode though!). Then Sam ended the season on his knees, ready to be murdered, what little assertiveness he might have had beaten out of him.
“It should be you up there (on the pyre), not her.”
Even Sam’s hair was sad
Though it was fluffy and pretty. Always pretty. And Sad.
In the gif below, Sam looks how I feel about the whole season:
Apparently Undertale is now my warm-up/calm down therapy. I’m okay with this. This is entirely @renrink‘s fault, because they mentioned doing an animation (which looks adorable by the way) to this song and then these images popped into my head. I also have decided to throw Sans’ facial “structure” out the window and just do what-the-hell-ever.
Played around with the painting in Manga Studio rather than my usual retreat to Photoshop. The wet paint brush is really fun when you’re just slapping colors on all willy nilly.
I believe Io miiiight be gravid. She quit eating a few weeks back, which is very uncharacteristic of her. She locked with Brogan (HGW Mojave) several times during the season so I’ll be expecting eggs sometime in April. Should be some good looking kids - Possible morphs produced include lesser/mojave BELs, soul suckers, HGW pastaves, and many other combinations.
Io is a 3 year old Pastel Lesser. She was over 2000 grams before she was paired.
Summary: The reader met the Winchester brothers just 6 months ago, and her life would never be the same again. Now, Dean refuses to speak to her and won’t say why. Will they be able to make it past this and focus on the case?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader
Word count: 2,320
Warning: Angst, ignoring, reader not feeling like she is enough.
A/N: I’m excited to put this 2 part story up! :)
You had been with the Winchesters for what has been the best six months of your life.
You were working at a bar. That night you were leaning up against the counter because business was slow, when they walked in. Both tall, but one even more so. The taller one had long brown hair and the other had dirty blonde, with striking green eyes. The latter was the kinda guy that turned heads with his handsomeness.
Needless to say your life flipped in a way unimaginable after that “meeting”. It turns out that scratching you heard in your apartment wasn’t rats, but something even worse.
Imagine everything that you had ever been told was fiction, wasn’t. And most of them, weren’t those sugar-coated, magical, good-doing creatures. No, ghosts weren’t transparent blobs; ghosts were people who had a vengeance that tethered them to this world. Witches were soul-suckers, or naive satanic soccer moms and werewolves were unstoppable heart-eaters. And things you could’ve never dreamed of, were even worse.
Sam found a case in a small town in Minnesota only yesterday. You remained at your current motel room for the night, though and him and Dean were packing up now.
“Bank robberies, murders, kidnappings, you name it and it’s there,” Sam had said.
“What are you thinking?” you wondered, in reference to what it might be.
“That’s not much to go on,” Dean huffed as he packed up his bags. “Could be anything.” He threw his duffle over his shoulder and sauntered out of the motel room, letting the door slam shut behind him.
“What IS up with him lately?” you asked Sam. Dean had been pissy for a straight week now, and on and off for a little over a month.
“Don’t ask me,” he replied, shrugging his large shoulders as he carefully placed his laptop in his bag and rose to his feet.
“He’s worse than a teenage girl with those moods,” you remarked, rolling your eyes. You crossed the room to grab your backpack and slung it over your shoulder, having already placed your other bag with the necessities in the car already.
Sam waited in the doorway, holding it for you as you lead the way out.
“Thanks,” you said passing over the threshold to the gloomy outside. Dean already had his favorite classic rock album blaring, sitting in the driver’s seat. It was a miracle he wasn’t deaf yet. You threw your bag in the trunk and scooted into the backseat, cringing at the volume.
“How long?” you asked Sam loudly over Led Zeppelin, leaning close to his ear. Not a word had been spoken nearly an hour into the ride, and Dean had yet to turn down the music a single decibel.
“About three more hours,” he replied flatly, not wanting to break the tension. You glanced at Dean’s hands, noticing that they were both wrapped tightly around the wheel, his knuckles white.
You sighed, realizing that you could not stand this loud silence for hours.
“Dean,” you tested. He didn’t hear you. “Dean,” you said louder, tapping his shoulder. He turned his head to look at your hand, letting out a breath and turning the volume dial down enough for you to be heard.
“Yeah?” he wondered. You could feel Sam’s hot gaze on you, afraid that you may set off his brother.
But you had hope. It was the first time in a full week that Dean’s voice hadn’t been calloused and cold and cut-off.
“Are you okay?” you wondered.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean huffed in an irritated tone; it was too much to hope for that it would stay away. You winced at the way your best friend was now speaking to you, but you didn’t stop.
“You just seem so pissy lately,” you trailed off softly.
“I’m not pissed,” he challenged. You were really getting enough of this.
“That doesn’t sound like the tone of someone who’s not pissed,” you crossed.
If there was one person who could never keep their eyes on the road, it was Dean Winchester. He turned around completely, for only a brief moment, but you weren’t sure if you could handle any more than that of his terrifying glare. Your stubbornness was only fueled as he turned around without snapping back at you.
“Would this be a bad time to ask if we could make a stop?” you asked sweetly, though you were grimacing internally, knowing that once you got out, he would be forced to at least look at you.
Dean huffed in response.
“I’ll take that as an ‘okay’, thanks De,” you said, pulling yourself forward to plant a taunting chaste kiss to his cheek. You couldn’t see the reaction on his face, but you thought you saw his cheek twitch, possibly cracking a smile for the first time in a week.
Just a few minutes down the highway, he pulled into a rest area.
“Hurry up,” he said, stepping out of the car and slamming the door. You quickly followed him, jogging at his heels to catch up, though he didn’t shorten his brisk stride.
“Dean,” you called from a few steps back, earning no response. “Dean!” You pulled his shoulder as you caught up to him. He faced you reluctantly, staring you down, hard. “Why are you ignoring me?” you breathed.
He scoffed and began to turn away.
“Hey!” you shouted, grabbing his shoulder again. He may have had sheer size and power over you, but you were more headstrong and definitely done with his bullshit. “Would you quit acting like you’re on your man period? Not even a man period, you’re acting like a little boy!” He turned to you and gave you a look, as if you had done something to him. Yeah let out your anger in a shaky breath. “What did I do?” you spoke softer this time.
“Nothing,” Dean shook his head as he pulled from your grip again, and you let him. You stood there for a moment, incredulously.
What the fuck? He even admitted that you hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was he acting like this? Needles pricked the back of your eyes as tears threatened to pool in them and fall, but you refused to let them, instead jogging to the rest stop bathroom.
Once you returned to the car, you were surprised, that Dean wasn’t wolfing down the food he had gotten and hadn’t even turned the music back on. But the silence was almost worse, and it was only ever broken by Sam talking about the case, even that was almost immediately shut down.
In the town, you wasted no time relaxing. Dean took charge and decided that you would immediately head for the police station.
“FBI,” Dean stated, each of you showing your badges once you were seen by a deputy. “We’re here about the spike in crime in town and we’d like to speak with the sheriff if he’s available.” The deputy held out his hand and Dean passed over his badge. The man squinted at it, before sighing and replacing it in Dean’s hand.
“I believe he is,” the man said, eyeing you. “Excuse me.” He turned and strided to an office and knocked.
You heard a muffled response. The deputy cracked the door open and poked his head in.
“FBI agents are here sir,” he stated, before stepping back to allow a stocky, middle-aged man to pass through the doorway.
He stood there for a moment before waving you into his office. It was fairly large but only had one chair opposite his desk, so rather than arguing over who got to sit, you all stood.
“Sheriff Adams,” he introduced himself. He squinted at you. “How may I help you today?”
“We’ve been sent to investigate the recent increase in violent crimes,” Sam stated.
“Uh-huh,” Sheriff Adams trailed off. He continued to scrutinize each of you, though he took special care looking over you. “And may I ask why there are three of you?” You clenched your jaw. Shit.
“Agent Gontier is in field training,” Dean replied quickly, gesturing to you. You wanted to glare at him, but forced a smile onto your face.
“Uh-huh. Now what about the crimes?” Adams asked.
“We’d like to see the burglary tapes, any that you have. I believe there was one at the… Clearwater Bank, was it?” Sam replied.
“Yeah,” the sheriff huffed and began digging around in the desk drawers. “Ah-ha.” He produced a VHS tape and crossed the room to an old bubble television, pushing the tape into a VCR. He fast forwarded the tape to the burglary. All of you watched the TV intently as the figure moved across the screen.
As they checked their back, you realized that they were a woman and you caught a flash.
“Could you replay that?” you asked. Sheriff Adams gave you a look before complying.
You moved slightly closer as you watched again. The glowing eyes were unmistakable this time and Sam and Dean made eye contact with you, mouthing, ‘shifter’.
“Uh,” Sam trailed off. “Could we please get a copy of this? And any others you have of the recent crimes?”
“Could I see your badge again?” Sheriff Adams tested. Sam readily pulled out his FBI badge again, handing it over as the man scrutinized it. “Agent Young?” He looked up from the card.
“Yes, sir,” Sam replied.
“And you are?” he asked Dean and you.
“Agent Angus,” Dean said.
“And Agent–in training– Gontier,” you forced a smile.
He signed, handing Sam back his badge before he sifted through more drawers, handing Sam no more than half a dozen more tapes. “That’s all we’ve got. The criminals must have realized by now that they’ve been getting caught on camera.”
“Thank you,” Sam said.
“No problem. We really appreciate that the government decided to help our little town,” the Sheriff smiled sweetly for the first time since you had arrived. It was almost too sweet.
“We try to pay attention to these kinds of things,” Dean forced a smile back.
“I’m sure you do.”
“It is our job,” Sam smiled as you were escorted out.
“Shifter,” Dean said aloud as you slid into the impala.
“No kidding,” you rolled your eyes, earning yourself a glare in the rear view mirror.
“It’s late,” Dean sighed as he pulled the impala out of the lot.
“It’s only five–” Sam tried.
“We should find a motel,” Dean interrupted. Sam shook his head at the ground.
After finally arriving at one, Dean went in to go get a room while you and Sam waited.
“You should probably sleep with Dean tonight,” Sam turned in his seat to face you. You furrowed your brows at him.
“Sam,” you stared at your best friend, hard. “You know he and I haven’t been on the best terms lately.”
“I know you hate not talking to him,” he sighed. “I know you hate not sleeping with him.”
“No, I don’t,” you argued. “It makes no difference to me.”
“Y/N,” he shook his head, then meeting your gaze with intensity. “I know you lo–”
“Don’t you dare say that to me, Sam,” you fumed. “We can’t have that kind of thing.”
“It’s killing the both of you,” he insisted. “If you both weren’t so damn stubborn….”
“It’s him! He’s the one who hasn’t been speaking!” you burst.
“And you refusing to sleep with him is making it worse,” Sam reasoned. “You do realize that’s what this is about, don’t you? I try talking to him but he won’t hear it.”
“It’s not like he’s listening to me either,” you huffed.
“Well, it’ll be my idea then,” he smirked.
“I’m gonna kill you, Sam Winchester,” you grit your teeth.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Dean said, sauntering up to the car. “No dead bodies on this case.”
“No promises,” you mumbled.
“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, earning Dean’s attention as he sat down in the car. “I’ve been the one having to put up with Y/N at night these past couple weeks, I think it’s about time you had your turn.”
“And so you want me to deal with her stealing the covers from me?” Dean questioned. You rolled your eyes, you really weren’t that bad of a blanket hog.
“Yeah,” Sam matched. “Like I’ve been for two weeks straight.”
“Fine,” Dean growled, pulling around the back of the Motel to your room. His snarling really got to you sometimes, what had you even done?
You unloaded your personal pack and weapon bags from the car into the bleak room. You were sitting on the other bed, looking at Sam, when Dean brought in the final duffel and plopped down next to Sam.
“Takeout?” you suggested.
“What else?” Dean asked rhetorically.
“What do you guys want?” you asked. Dean wanted a burger, of course, and Sam opted for a salad. “Ok, I’ll go out and get it.” You raised your open hand, and Dean tossed the keys to you, after a moments hesitation, without looking.
“Not a single scratch,” Dean called.
“Don’t you trust me?” you called back as you swung the door shut behind you.
When you returned, the room was empty, though you heard the distinct trickle of shower water from the bathroom.
“Dean?” you called, setting the food on the dresser.
“It’s Sam,” he answered. You walked towards the door, stopping just short of three feet away.
“Where’s Dean?” you asked.
“He took off,” Sam replied. You sighed knowing what that meant; it meant he was at a strip club, or a bar hitting on some busty blonde who had a much better toned body than you.
“I’m sleeping with you tonight, Sam, sorry,” you called.
“Yeah,” was all he replied. You dragged your feet to Sam’s bed and flopped down, stifling tears as silent sobs racked over your body. It was pointless and stupid really, because you couldn’t help it. This was just Dean.
And you would never be enough for Dean Winchester.
Ok so since i’m really bored i decided to make a list of littles things/facts i like about calum:
- when he laughs his laugh isn’t loud it’s sweet and peaceful
- the maine shirt
- he is smart/intelligent
- his little curls when he let grow his hair
- he put his hand between his arm and his torso sometimes in interviews
- his teeth are beautiful
- his VOICE omg
- sassy faces
- he looks like he knows everything even if he don’t talk very much
- when he wears large tshirt
- he don’t tweet that much like he’s lowkey on twitter
- his tattoos
- he listen to the weeknd & lower than atlantis
- he could be the perfect best friend i never had
- he is so special/weird in a good way
- the way he walks
- the way he talks
- the way he makes me feel inside (u know it ariana)
- he writes in his journal idk what he writes but it must be sooooo interesting
- he likes music so much it’s his oxygen his passion it’s so inspiring
- he loves food
- when he doesn’t finish his sentences and when he’s talking/short pause/continue
- his bass skills
- he has a playlist called “tropical vibes” (and it’s so good man)
- black nail polish
- sometimes he’s shy
- his lips
- so talented like wtf
- his friendship with the boys
- old soul
- he’s “a sucker for positivity”
- he can open a beer bottle with a water bottle
- his hands are beautiful
- grey tshirts
- he’s humble and he thinks he is not interesting BUT HE IS
- he’s so happy when he see a dog it’s so cute
- artistic sensiblity
- i love him so much he is my fav human in the entire universe
Little red is a hunter with the skin of a red fox over her back. The wolf is trying to hunt his hunter.
The baby from Rumpelstiltskin was stolen from a poor farm couple and given to the Queen. It’s Rumpel’s job to get it back.
Or, instead of Rumpel helping desperate people in exchange for their first born he is like a black-market every-man that will help greedy people get what they want. For a price, of course.
Snow White is an enchantress who can make anyone fall helplessly and foolishly in love with her with one look. Anyone but the “Evil” Queen.
Long ago Rapunzel was locked away in the tower because she’s an immortal monster (vampire, soul-sucker, gorgon…whatever you want). As the years passed and those who locked her away disappeared, a story of a damsel in the distress kidnapped and locked away by a witch began to float around. Many have tried to rescue her not knowing they’re walking to their death. The princes’ demise is always chalked up to death at the hands of the witch.
A genie who will grant you any three wishes, no rules at all. Except for—and you’re never told this until it’s too late—after the wishes are granted you have to replace the genie in it’s bottle until someone else finds the lamp.
((I am such a sucker for soul mate AUs; it was a pleasure
doing this. Hope you like it!))
-McCree when he was little all he ever did was stare at the
name that was on his wrist, he would spend hours wondering who you were, what
you were doing, and of course what you looked like. He would always proudly
show off your name to everyone he met. Adults would giggle and comment how cute
it was, other kids would just tease him.
-As he got into the Deadlock Gang he began to care less and
less about finding you since he gave up hope of you just randomly appearing in
front of him. Besides he had plenty of people to fill in your gap at the time
-Once he got taken under Gabriel’s wing and had some sense
(literally) knocked into him, he began to search for you once more. He realized
he didn’t want just anyone, it had to be you. After all you were made for him
and him for you.
-McCree couldn’t believe you were right under his nose the
whole time, you were a quiet agent who often did meaninglessly tasks for the
captains and commanders from grabbing files to coffee. You were more of a information
gatherer than a fighter. If it hadn’t been for you handing Reyes coffee that
fateful day when he was nagging him to death, he would have never have noticed
the name on your wrist or the way his heart raced when you were close.
-He embarrassed you by instantly asking you out in front of
Reyes, who then proceeded to yell at McCree for not paying attention and you,
for not having his coffee on time. Gabriel apologized (to you, only) once he
realized McCree & you are soul mates, he wished you good luck with your new
‘idiot’ then walked off.
-Your first date was slightly awkward but sweet, McCree
might’ve not known it but you fell for him hard, you never stood a chance; nor
-Everyone was extremely happy for the both of you, in fact
they threw a small get-together since finding your soul mate is a very special
thing. You both got sloppy drunk and ended up passing out together on a couch,
no one had the heart to wake you two up.
-McCree is extremely protective, but so are you. No one even tries to flirt with either of
you, it’s so clear that you two are an odd but wonderful couple; a match made
-The first time you two made love was filled with laughter
and smiles, it felt so right, no one else ever made you two feel like this. You
both knew at that moment that you could never be apart for too long again.
-Through every hardship you both come out of together even
stronger than before.
-Eventually you have/adopt children. McCree is an excellent
and proud father, it makes your heart swell every time he tells them how you
met and how to never give up on love.
-One day you look at each other, and years have gone by. You
are both that old couple the neighborhood kids & your grandchildren love
visiting for food and stories. You are old, grey and as beautiful as ever to
Jesse. Your heart still skips a beat whenever your husband kisses you, and
holds his wrinkled hand out for you to take.
-Your story together wasn’t always perfect, but it was
amazing. The happy ending you both deserved.
I just hit my next thousand (whee) soto celebrate, I thought I’d show my appreciation for the amazing writers of the bellarke fandom by compiling a list of my all-time favourite bellarke fics! Hope y’all enjoy, x.
This fic gets a special place in my heart because it was the very first fic I read for bellarke and I fell in love with it immediately. Basic premise? Bellamy is an immortal and Clarke isn’t, and he meets her seven times throughout his life. It’s heart-breaking and poignant and the characters are written with so much thought. (With an happy ending, to boot.)
Listen, this fic is amazing. Mia writes like magic; it’s nostalgic and sweet and angsty all at once, and there are some lines in here that just make me shiver and cry and have a lot of feelings, okay. Overall, it’s engaging and fun and will stick with you for days after.
do you ever do that thing when you’re reading a book and the climax is coming and coming and your eyes are just ripping through the pages and your heart is beating so fast and you’re living inside of the pages, frantically consuming every single word and your mind is going a hundred miles an hour and the scene just fills your head with so much sweet chaos that you are basically unstoppable until you reach the end of the book?
and after you’ve flipped the last page you just sit there blinking at this incredible book in your hands, your hopes soaring or helplessly crushed, a small smile etched on your face or frozen in open-mouthed horror, and for a second you believe that magic exists.