you see how they work aside from the well oiled family unit

Possibilities for S13...

There is absolutely no point in me calling these ramblings predictions because I have no frigging clue as to what will actually happen.

That said, with the picture tweeted by Mark of Misha dressed as a plain old civilian, the implications could be human!Cas. Or it, very well, could not be. It could just be M2 fucking with the fandom, as they are wont to do. I do not possess the knowledge of Misha’s wardrobe that some of you devoted lovelies do, but it has been pointed out that it looked as though he was in plain old private wardrobe. Whatever reason they had for putting make-up on him in his plains, we may never know. Or what am I saying - we’ll know in May. *gulp*

And as far as these speculations go, I can only look at what I would want to work with in S13 if I were a writer on the show. My biggest issue with the thought of a separation for Dean and Cas has always been that we’ve partaken, so keenly, in this very scenario before. Actually, we’ve seen Dean worry for Cas twice - first when Cas was possessed by Lucifer, and secondly when he disappeared to Heaven without a word - so rule of three dictates…? I’m looking at this as Dean’s story, mind, and so his worrying journey is paramount to every decision made about plot and supporting cast. Sorry, Sam and Cas, you do fall under that heading, no matter how strong your individual arcs are.

In either case, here’s me spewing my ponderings on the possibilities for S13 onto this dash o’mine. Thoughts, reactions, discussions are more than welcome! I’d like to flag down @tinkdw, @postmodernmulticoloredcloak@floralmotif, @mittensmorgul and anyone you guys want to flag (if I dare be so bold) because I really would love to interact with you brilliant and observant meta-mothers! If my thoughts grab you and make you go hey or ho or WTF, that is. That said, everyone’s input is, of course, welcome. Please never feel as though you can’t ask me to clarify, ask me to elaborate, ask me to dial back (never will) or tell me to generally fuck off (though in which general direction is helpful as I may otherwise end up somewhere completely random and I will hunt you down and hug you, which will, you know, negate the fucking off).

The Seasonal Arcs

Let me start by saying that part of what I’m basing this on is that I’m thinking about the writers well-established use of dual seasonal arcs, where they have repeatedly used one season’s overarching plot line to set-up the truly Big Bad to come in the following season. They did this, and do excuse my simplification of these arcs, with Cas’ bad choices in S6 ushering in the Leviathan threat of S7; with Cas trusting Metatron in S8 causing the angels to fall and setting Metatron up as main villain for S9; with Dean’s salvation from the MoC at the end of S10 bringing in The Darkness in S11; and now they’re doing it again with, as I read it, the World as We Know It vs. the World as the BMoL would have it. I’ll dig deeper into that in a minute.

Keep reading

Shance Week: Day Four: AU

Shadowy Matters (A Dark Matter AU)

AO3 Link 

Notes: Shiro thinks of himself as Shiro, but the others by their color. They, likewise, think of him as Black. Everyone is humanoid but none are actually human. Pidge and Matt are of an Avian race, Allura is Altean, Keith is Galra/Altean, Hunk, Shiro, and Lance are…other things I haven’t given names to yet.

Summary: Shiro knows he’s a criminal, that he’s done terrible things. That, in spite of his memories being gone, that he is a living breathing killing machine and that the rest of the crew of The Castle is just as bad. Most of them. Except for Blue. And so when the chance to take Blue home, to keep his hands clean, he jumps.

It doesn’t go well.

Keep reading

9

Saw this floating around on my dash earlier…

au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate

and thanks to the wonderful gif creators in our fandom, like repmet, piperholmes, angiemagz, and many others…I was inspired

Lady Sybil Crawley

All she’s known is a world in black and white.

Her sisters have found color, as have her parents, and they’ve told her all about their beauty, but it’s hard to understand when you don’t know what “green” looks like, or to look in the mirror and be told that you have lovely blue eyes because you can’t grasp what “blue” is…

She’s jealous of her sisters, of her parents, of all her friends who have found and see color.  She wants to see it too, she wants to know what it’s like to look at the sky at dusk and understand what people mean when they describe it as “amber rose”. 

But there’s only one way to see color.

And Sybil wonders if she’s only eager to meet her “soulmate” so she can understand the beauty that everyone is talking about…

Maybe it’s her jealousy that she hasn’t experienced color (or “true love”), or maybe it’s her confusion over what she really wants.  But whatever it is, she pushes herself to her new role as “nurse”, making her focus about helping others, rather than wondering about reds, purples, and golds.  For the first time in her life, she feels a sense of purpose, and that’s enough to distract her…for now.

Tom Branson

All he’s known is a world in black and white.

His mother thinks he’s not trying hard enough; “Kieran found his soulmate when he was sixteen!"  Really?  Is that all that matters?  How can anyone think about anything when their country is on the brink of revolution?  When freedom may come at any day?  There’s something to be said about a world in black and white, or so he tells himself.  Though he knows that even that isn’t as simple as it sounds.

He needs work, he needs to help his family, and even though it’s away from the Emerald Isle (something he’s never completely understood), he goes to England, to Yorkshire, to a place called "Downton Abbey”, to work as a chauffeur for the Earl of Grantham, something he tells himself over and over will only be temporary, just until he’s made enough to help the family, and then he’ll go.  After all, he won’t always be a chauffeur!  Though he will admit, Lord Grantham is a decent employer…even if he is a representative of an oppressive class.  At least that’s one thing that unites the classes; being born into a colorless world.

He meets many people at Downton; some like him who still see in varying shades of light and dark, and some who sigh dreamily while looking into the eyes of the other, going on and on about the colors they see.  Is that all anyone thinks about?  Truly?  Though he cannot deny, he is a little curious…but there’s only one way to see color, of course.  And he’s far too engrossed in politics to spare such romantic notions a thought…for now.

That day…

They haven’t crossed paths, amazingly enough.  Her nursing has kept her busy, as has his work in his Lordship’s garage.  But Tom notices her name in his Lordship’s ledger…and how it’s connected to a book about Ireland.  And Sybil comes across some pamphlets he’s dropped, about women and the vote.  She picks up the pamphlets…and wonders if he’s aware he’s dropped them?  Well, she’ll just to go the garage and give them back!  She has some time now, before dinner.  Though she can’t help but find it fascinating...a revolutionary chauffeur.

She enters the garage, the strong scents of motor oil filling her nostrils.  Oddly, it’s not as unpleasant as she thought it would be.  “Hello?” she calls out.  She hears a man grunting from underneath a car.  “Oh!  Hello?  Um…Branson?” she asks.  All she can see are a pair of black boots and black trouser legs.

He drops his tools and turns his head, seeing a pair of black boots–women’s boots–approach.  He doesn’t recognize her voice, but he can tell that whoever she is, she’s posh.  Probably the youngest daughter to his Lordship, the only one he hasn’t met.  “Aye, milady, I’ll be right there,” he answers, putting his tools aside and sliding out.

He nearly bangs his head as he hears her let out a startling gasp.

His eyes fly to hers, wondering whatever is the matter…and his heart stops.

…Color.

Or…or at least what…they think is color.

But it has to be!  Because…because suddenly her dress is…what is that?  He doesn’t know, because while people have told him what color is, he’s never been able to understand! 

She blinks and stares back at him, and even though his trousers and waistcoat are black, and his shirt is white…his skin…his skin his…well, she doesn’t know how to describe it, but…but it’s not black and white!

This is color.

THIS is color!

Which…can only mean one thing…

“Branson…?” she breathes, her heart beating so loudly, she’s sure they can hear it back at the house.

He takes a long, shaky breath.  “Tom…” he answers.

She smiles…and his heart speeds up.  “Tom,” she whispers back…and he holds his breath as she reaches forward…and touches his cheek with her soft, gloved hand.

“Sybil,” she introduces, her eyes growing wider as she looks deeply into his eyes.  They’re so beautiful…more beautiful than anything she could ever imagine…oh gracious, she must know their color, what color are they?  Whatever color it is, she knows it is her favorite.

Tom lets out a long, shaky breath…and leans his face into her palm.  Her lips part and he wets his own as his eyes move them.  This is his soulmate.  This woman…who just so happens to be the daughter of his employer, an English, Anglican, aristocrat…but he knows, not just because of the color that now surrounds his world, but because when he looks at her, he can feel nothing but the purest joy fill his heart.  His soulmate…he’s found her.  Here, at Downton Abbey of all places!

“Sybil…” he murmurs, his own hand rising to touch her cheek.  She shivers at the way her name sounds with his Irish lilt.  Her soulmate…he’s here.  She doesn’t care if he’s the chauffeur, she doesn’t care if he were…Uncle Tom Cobley!  He’s here…standing before her, touching her cheek just as she’s touching his. 

“You came,” she whispers, blushing and smiling as he grins at her words.  “No wonder I couldn’t understand what they meant; you were in Ireland!”

“And you were in your Yorkshire,” he replies, a deep chuckle in his throat, the sound causing her toes to curl deliciously. 

They both continue smiling at the other…and then, their eyes going back and forth from each other’s to their lips, Sybil murmurs, “yes…”

“Yes?”

She smiles.  “Yes, you can kiss me.”

He grins and leans close.  “God knows it’s enough that I can kiss you,” he moans, before finally his lips caress hers, and their love, their bond is sealed for eternity, in the sweet passion of their first kiss.

…And just like color, nothing can begin to describe it, other than “beautiful”.