#shipper!samnetwork

[jenmish]

yo yo yo my first BOTM of the year!!!

rules:

mbf this trash ;)

reblog this post

ends December 30th

1 winner and 2 runner ups

i’m looking for:

spn or multifandom blogs 

nice, friendly bloggers!!

url and/or theme that’ll will make me squeal and jealous

cool posts B)

winner prizes:

+follow

promos whenever you want for the month of january ;)

a spot on my updates tab for january

a spot on my botm winners page forever (that’s cool right?)

a gifset of anything, your choice

runner up prizes

+follow

3 promos whenever you want throughout january

a spot on my updates tab

my friendship<3

message me if you have any questions

[farklelucas]

officialscisaac > scisaacs

shout out to juicesortiz for getting rid of urls and to my inability to hold onto a url for more than ten seconds!

[antigonickpdf]

hey sweeties please send some love to yogajensen because although she's going through a hard time right now victoria's the sweetest person on the planet and she deserves to know how absolutely wonderful she is x 

[softedwin]

idk but I actually really like this one

[physics-duck-says-quark]

GUYS CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT HOW SAM SHIPS DESTIEL

[jenmish]

hi yes this is a rare picture of me wearing a dress

[jenmish]

You killed my friend.

[farklelucas]

joharvellism -> dorkmccall

just thought i’d let y’all know! the facts are these:

why

why not tho

what does this mean for your involvement in the spn fandom?

nothing really. i’m still going to be reblogging a few spn posts and i still love jo. but it was really time for a change and spn is getting really problematic for me personally but... them’s the breaks sometimes.

r u a teen wolf blog now

not really? still multi-fandom. but count on as many or more teen wolf posts yeah yes i am trash total and utter trash

can i have joharvellism?

no

[jenmish]

some changes are for the better

[jenmish]

i changed my theme and i made it sad, but i like it oops

[jenmish]

I'm 6 away from my next hundred wowowowowo

[jenmish]

i need to stop omfg

i got the idea from this post

[jenmish]

twerksiel >> frostedmisha

i was overcoatcas but then fell in love with this url sooo

[antigonickpdf]

I wrote this at about 4 a.m. as a writing exercise. Warnings for major character death and a graphic description of cremation.

dean’s tears are hot hot too fucking hot and they sear burns down his cheeks like they’re comets with trails of blazing fire or lightning or angel’s grace and he wishes he could pour his angel grace tears into the blood staining everything sticky because maybe then castiel’s eyes will open maybe then castiel’s lips will form his name again maybe then dean won’t be so fucking fucked up that he’s laughing over the limp body in his arms and “look, sammy, look, he finally got that stick out of his ass long enough to joke around!” and “dean, cas isn’t joking” and “tell him to wake up now, sam, because this isn’t funny anymore” and “dean—” and “wake the fuck up, cas, this isn’t funny, you piece of shit, wake up wake up wake up” and

*** 

Dean’s drunk again. He’s drunk, and the world is a ball of plasticine clumsily crafted by the fat little fingers of a young child. 

There’s a knock at his door. 

“S’open,” grunts Dean, not looking away from the spot in the wall he’s been staring at for the past however many hours. He’s certain that, if he looks long enough, he’ll be able to witness the world deteriorating right before his eyes. Plasticine isn’t built for forever. 

“I know,” comes Sam’s voice. “You broke your door.”

“The door broke itself,” Dean says. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t care. 

The mattress dips beside him, and then Sam’s too-big form and too-worn face and too-worried eyes are right there. “Dean…” he starts, soft. “I don’t want to push you, but we’ve got to cremate Cas’ body soon.”

“It’s not Cas’ body. It’s Jimmy Novak’s body.” 

Sam hesitates, and now without voices to accommodate, the air nags at Dean. Its staticky-silent whine grows more frantic with every nanosecond of quiet until it’s screaming and roaring through his ears, and it sounds like it’s being tortured.

“Then we need to cremate Jimmy’s body,” Sam says, shattering the pained shrieking of the silence. 

“Why? There’s no ghost to haunt it.” 

Sam almost sighs. He doesn’t, because he’s too polite to, but Dean thinks he wants to. “Because after all the two of them have done—Cas and Jimmy both—they deserve a proper send-off.” 

Dean laughs, the sound scraping out his throat like it’s wrapped in sandpaper. “Well, ain’t that a fuckin’ prize.” 

“What?” 

“All the shit we go through and the big reward at the end is being set on fire.” He looks at Sam. “Sammy, you’re smart. You know what happens during cremation? When your body’s on fire?” 

Dean doesn’t wait for a response. “Your body dries out, first, then your skin tightens and gets all waxy from the heat. Then it discolours, blisters and splits, or it’s vaporised entirely.

“After that, your muscles are the next to go. Those things, they char like pros. While that’s going on, your limbs are extending and flexing the whole time, because your muscles — they tighten as well.”

Sam tries to cut in, “Dean—” 

“Then your bones. Those calcify when they hit the heat, and they flake and crumble. That’s when we bury what’s left of the skeleton, ‘cause we can’t just sit there grinding up skeletal remains to make pretty ashes, can we, Sammy?” 

The glass in Dean’s hand somehow finds itself smashing into the wall. 

“So all of what Cas did,” says Dean, watching glass granule-infused whiskey slide down the wall. “All of what Cas went through, and his final reward is nothingness and a half-assed cremation. Awesome.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything after that, or maybe he does and Dean just doesn’t hear him, but either way he leaves a while later. 

Dean drinks straight from the bottle. 

***

They cremate Jimmy’s body and Cas’ metaphorical one and bury the skeleton with a simple wooden cross at the head of the grave a few miles outstate. Sam cries some, Dean feels like he’s going to throw up and then he feels nothing at all and they go home. 

Dean wants to kill something but Sam says we should take a break, Dean, at least until this blows over and Dean says what the fuck, Sam, Cas being dead isn’t going to just “blow over” but Sam’s eyes are sad like something’s pulling apart at the seams inside him so Dean doesn’t argue. 

Instead, he watches crappy movies on pay-per-view and tries not to think about anything till his thoughts are slamming against the inside of his skull demanding attention and finally he says, “You stupid son of a bitch.” 

There’s no one in the room to respond. 

“You stupid son of a bitch,” says Dean again. “Why the hell did you think ramming yourself in front of that angel blade would do anything useful? All you did was get yourself killed.” 

He sucks in a breath of air through his teeth and rubs at his eyes, pushing down any opportunistic tears that might think to spring up.

“And if you can hear me—which you probably can’t, but if you can—and you’re thinking you saved me, you didn’t. All right? Taking a blade to your stomach didn’t do anything but get blood everywhere. So don’t think you martyred yourself heroically because all you did was be a dumbass and that’s it.”

“It just… it would’ve been a whole lot more helpful if you’d just lived,” finishes Dean, all malice draining from his words. “And—I’m sorry. Okay, Cas? I’m sorry I got you killed. I’m sorry my habit of getting the people I care about killed screwed you over in the end as well.”

“Dean…” comes a quiet voice. Dean starts, Cas’ name forming on his lips before the voice registers as too high and smooth to be Castiel’s gravelly tones.

“Jesus, Sam,” Dean snaps, heart slamming against his ribcage. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Sam ignores the hostility. “You didn’t get him killed, Dean.”

“Yeah? ’Cause I’m pretty sure he’d still be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

“This already sounds shitty in my head, but—Dean, no one forced Cas to throw himself in front of that blade. He made the choice to, because he cares—cared about you.”

Dean remains silent for a couple seconds, then grumbles, “It sounded shitty out loud, too.”

Huffing out a small laugh, Sam makes his way over to the bed and sits beside Dean. “It’s true, though. Cas—he really cared about you, Dean. I think… I think he might’ve even loved you.” His voice gentles at the end, wary but needing to get the words out anyway.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says.

The surprise is written all over Sam’s tone. “You do?”

“Guy showed as many emotions as your average brick,” says Dean. “When one or two finally managed to sneak through, they were about as inconspicuous as a fuckin’ floodlight shining directly in your face. And… Jesus, I’m gonna sound like I’m in some weepy YA novel, but—I kinda loved him too,” he admits.

Now it’s Sam’s turn to say, “I know.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up questioningly.

Sam gives him a smile that verges on sheepish. “You’ve never been good at hiding that sorta stuff. Not with Cassie, not with Lisa, and definitely not with Cas.”

“Oh. Jeez. You coulda mentioned that before, Sammy.” The words are fond, but Dean shakes his head. “I just wish I’d worked up the balls to tell him before he went and got himself killed, you know?”

“Dean, anyone within a five mile radius of you two would’ve been able to figure out that you loved him. I don’t think Cas was any exception.”

Dean drops his gaze, and the smile that creeps onto his lips feels foreign. But not bad. Definitely not bad. “I sure hope so,” he says. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Sure, Dean.” Before Dean can object, Sam pulls him into a brief, tight hug, then gets up again. “There’s, uh. There’s some pie in the kitchen. I was on a supply run and I thought I might as well get you some. It’s pecan, if you want any.”

Dean looks at his brother—his brother Sam, who overflows with ridiculous amounts of kindness and care and patience—and he says, “Yeah. Yeah, some pie sounds good right about now.”

And he swears to god that, in that moment, he can hear the faint rustle of wings.

[jenmish]

oh look i'm late to the party and oh look the picture came out blurry im to lazy to fix it  so i decided to do my first BOTM cause December is my birthday month woohoo 

RULES:

mbf this soon to be 16 year old

reblog this post

that's basically it

INFO:

needs at least 20 reblogs

ends around November 29-30

1 winner and 2 runner ups

WINNER PRIZES:

f+ from yours truly if not already

a spot on my updates tab through december

i'll make a page where i'll put all my BOTM so you'll get put there

promos whenever you want during December

milkshakes to bring all the boys to the yard

RUNNER UPS PRIZES:

f+ from me

a group promo

a spot on my updates tab through December

my love

pic source [x]

[jenmish]

Blog rates!

I haven't done these in a while so ayy, plus im sick and bored

oh and i need some more questions for my Q&A vid!

mbf this happy chick

reblog~

send an ask with a question (any kind of question is welcomed! maybe about spn, ships, my life, or something totally weird) or send me your fav song

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