#this is CHAOS

[x-emeraldsky-x]

Sakura: Behold, men! The one who has done the impossible, the one who got Nara Shikamaru to clean a whole house WITH OUT COMPLAINT!

Naruto: Oh my god... how is this even possible?!

Rock Lee: It isn't! How did you do it, great one? What did you bargain?

Temari: I gave him a tiny, little forehead kiss

Naruto: SO SIMPLE! AND YET... SO EFFECTIVE!

Lee: This is DARK MAGIC! You, ma'am, are a WITCH

Temari: No, no... do not be so foolish, I am no witch... I am a GOD! WITNESS WITH YOUR MORTAL EYES MY RAW POWER!

Temari: *softly pecks Shikamaru's cheek*

Shikamaru: *covers his face, blushing* ughh, Temariii...

Sakura: HE HAS YIELDED! SUBMITTED TO THE GODLY POWER!

Lee: HE HAS BEEN TAMED!

[arliedraws]

CHAOS TIME. Sirius lives, it's post-war.....how do Sirry get together? 👀

Ooohhhhh. OKAY.

Scenario 1:

Harry breaks up with Ginny (maybe it’s a big thing, maybe they break off their engagement—maybe they grew apart or something, idk). Harry is devastated and Sirius offers him a place to stay at his house. Maybe they’ve never actually lived together so Sirius is unsure if he ought to be nurturing Harry or treating him like an adult. Their relationship is also healing from the disaster that was OotP so they’re still a bit awkward around each other. Anyway, Harry wakes up one night and finds Sirius in rough shape after a bad night with Moony. While Harry insists on bringing him to St. Mungo’s, Sirius shrugs it off, says it’ll be fine, and if Harry’s so concerned, he should help him. So idk Harry helps him strip out of his bloody clothes and starts—uhhhh—treating his wounds, trying to ignore the fact that he’s touching Sirius in a way that they don’t usually. They hardly hug! Rubbing balms and stuff on a very fit man who is groaning in pain? Done for.

Scenario 2:

Sirius is not one to tell Harry what to do, but Harry’s recruitment into the Auror office rankles him. Kingsley tries to convince Sirius that they’re working on reform in the DMLE, yet Sirius isn’t convinced it’s the right move for Harry to join a fairly corrupt organization. One night when Harry is visiting him with Ron and Hermione, and maybe a few drinks in, Sirius can’t help himself from telling Harry that it’s a big mistake. Harry gets pissed off. Sirius tells him he’s risking his life for a job that’ll stab him in the back or force him to compromise on his values, and Harry throws back that at least he’s actually doing something (as opposed to Sirius who is slowly, quietly healing from his traumas). All of a sudden, they’re dredging up old hurts, and Harry hasn’t felt this angry at Sirius since he learned he was innocent. Finally, Harry snaps at Ron and Hermione that they’re leaving, but Sirius tells Harry that they’re not finished. Ron and Hermione go, but Sirius and Harry are still arguing—Harry accuses Sirius of being childish and Sirius claims that Harry is completely obtuse. Anyway, Harry tries to leave but Sirius refuses to let him go. Uhhhh Harry shoves him into the wall or something and is about to tell him off when he realizes Sirius is looking at him strangely…as if…

Scenario 3:

Sirius has retreated from the magical world and feels more comfortable amongst Muggles who don’t know him or question his innocence. He becomes a mechanic, and within a few years, he opens his own shop where he can fix stuff and chat with people who are impressed with this oddly posh, incredibly honest mechanic. Harry, meanwhile, has become disillusioned with his career as an Auror and is a bit depressed; he no longer lives with the same purpose he had before Voldemort was defeated. He doesn’t know how to just be…a person. So Sirius teaches him about fixing things. It turns out that Sirius is a very good teacher, and Harry finds himself going to the shop over and over and over again, letting Sirius guide his hand as he like, drills something, idk. Anyway, this is a very sexy environment, and Sirius is very nurturing, and Harry feels safe and satisfied as he’s gently told what to do. He doesn’t have to think, all he has to do is listen to Sirius…

Scenario 4:

Speaking of teaching… because you know…

Harry is just beginning to teach at Hogwarts. He’s twenty-four, he’s left the Auror department, and he’s looking for something that feels worthwhile. Sirius has been teaching Transfiguration since McGonagall became headmistress, so he’s thrilled when Harry comes to Hogwarts. Harry is enjoying teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts but he notices that he’s getting a bit of attention—that kind of attention—from students. When he confides in Sirius, he shows him a note that was passing between a few fifth year girls. Sirius finds it very funny and reads the note which includes a litany of Harry’s physical attributes. But somehow, the words coming out of Sirius’s mouth hit…different… When Sirius squeezes his chin, teasing him about his “sparkling, green-grass eyes”, Harry realizes that…oh no… And Sirius immediately understands and grins, and continues to tease Harry for things that are definitely not in the note…

[ajitanparmesan]

yep

seems about right @ere-na

[telltale-apologist]

OKAY SO

- nypd is absolutely clueless

- everyone is thirsting over the guy who killed the CEO

- his backpack was filled with monopoly money?????

- apparently the nypd are listening and following every rip that comes in so people are trolling them

[alexbkrieger13]

118 hits in 60 minutes (1.96 hits per minute)

[pinkmarbella2050]

ETN Ramble: Detective Edition

OK, ladies and gentleman! Welcome to my ETN Ramble. This might turn into a series depending on how unhinged I set, but we're just gonna go with it for now.

Today, I'm gonna be rambling about what the hell I think happened to MatPat following the events of Season 3. And it is NOT pretty!

Before we get started, I just wanna say that this idea is partially inspired by @lazarus-harp and their analysis on the Season 3 survivors, especially Mat and Nikita, as well as their takes on the SAE. They're really cool, I love 'em a ton, go check them out!

So, without further ado, let's go!

Let's put this bluntly, first of all; he is NOT OK. Y'know that one meme that's like 'bitches be like "this is my comfort character" and then choose a character that hasn't had a day of comfort in their lives.'? Yeah, this is basically Mat. XD

I feel like, after Everlock, he was just a mess and didn't wanna get close to people in case Ro and Safiya were looking down on him and thinking that he was replacing them, so outside of his Theory work - the one thing he still felt he could trust because its logical and straightforward and nothing like the unpredictability and drama of Everlock - he avoided everyone outside of those he had to work with for Game and Film Theory.

No slander to Steph - I love her, she's amazing, she's an icon, a legend, the moment, ALL OF IT - but I have a feeling that they kinda drifted apart (they didn't get divorced since Steph was still holding out for him and they still loved each other when he first came back) because Mat didn't know what to do. Like, did he act like who he was before he died, after? Does he act like he never died? How does he process this?

Essentially, their relationship broke down because Mat is having a whole-ass identity crisis, as well as a conflict about his next steps.

A conflict that later continues once he joins the SAE for, as I'm dubbing it, Operation Pandora (AKA the code name for Season 4's rescue mission - partly because I am convinced they only did this mission to get Pandora's Box and used Joey as a scapegoat). That happens, Ro and Joey don't come back, we all know this.

Now here's where I think Mat would get REALLY bad. Nikita leaves the SAE after Operation Pandora because, not only has she lost Manny, but Bretman now doesn't like her because she nearly killed him, basically, leaving Mat with Ryu and Jael and everyone else.

Now, Mat and Nikita didn't have the best relationship, we all know this, but I feel like Mat really admired Nikita in some way. Why? Because she had something he didn't; the ability to not get attached. The strength to fight against all odds. Strength, period - which I think would be a major thing he'd look out for, especially considering the way he died. So when Nikita leaves the SAE, wanting to move on from everything, he feels like he's lost everyone from Everlock. As such, he pushes everyone away even further - even those from Game and Film Theory - and devotes himself entirely to the cause of bringing everyone from Everlock back to life.

This... is basically fucking pointless. Nobody (besides Colleen) could ever come back again. Ro's permanently dead and everyone else's souls got freed. Mat knows this, but still fights the good fight, a fight enabled by Jael (maybe not Ryu because I think he's still kinda human) due to her not seeing people as people, a teaching that runs through the SAE; don't get attached to anyone because anyone can die.

Because of all this, I have a good feeling of how Mat would handle the end of the series, assuming the series is going to end with the destruction of the Cursed God:

Obviously, the SAE would disband since the war is over, so why the hell do they have a reason to still work together? Mat would campaign for this not to happen since he knows that only their resources and tomes or whatever are the keys to bringing everyone from Everlock back, but Ryu would have to sit him down and explain that that's not how any of this works.

In the aftermath of the SAE, Mat pushes everyone away and, just as he did during the fight (even if I didn't mention this), he finds everything his group was in and religiously consumes it, to the point that its all he consumes, even when he's meant to be consuming other media for his channel.

When it comes to the idea of group therapy, I do agree with the fan theory I've seen in some spaces that the Season 3 survivors would not get along with any of the other survivors. I'll potentially get into why Nikita wouldn't be easy to get along with in a different ramble, but I have a feeling that Eva, Oli, Andrea and Tyler are willing to admit the flaws of the people in their group (i.e: Matt giving up, Justine not really defending herself, Jesse's libido, Alex's conflict between the group and Lauren, etc) and are also willing to try and move on. Mat... cannot understand this. He assumes they're trying to replace their group and, considering his own experiences with feeling like he's replacing people, he sees this as unforgivable. He also doesn't understand how they can see them as anything other than brave martyrs who died before their time (off topic, but I swear, Mat reminds me so much of Mikami from Death Note because I'm pretty sure Mat would get just as obsessed with religion and God and martyrdom and servitude or whatever as Mikami did with Light, but ANYWAY-). I just have a feeling that Mat might just kill himself. I mean, nobody understands what he went through like he does and he's been shown that there's no way of getting anyone from Everlock back, so... yeah.

He might as well as join the people who watched him die and brought him back to life in death, right?

WELL! That was crazy, but I hope that made a semblance of sense.

Thanks for reading my carnage and I'll see you next time! Bye!

Your Author, Marbella. <3

[kayleighwinchester]

Pilot (Part 1)

Alright! I was debating waiting a little while to post this, since I only posted that first little drabble last night, but this portion is finished, so I figured I would post it anyway. This is part one of my rewrite of the Pilot; I'm very slowly working my way through the vast majority of the series! Like the drabbles, these will be tagged by season, and will be posted in order. I think it's important to note that I changed out a portion of the dialogue for the exchange in the original script; I personally think it flows a lot better, and I prefer it far and above what we got onscreen!

Thank you guys for the support I got on the drabble - it means a lot! <3

There were a lot of things Dean Winchester expected when he shimmied open the front window to Sammy's Stanford apartment - and there were a lot of things that surprised him. It was far nicer than he might have expected from a college kid; even one in on scholarships and maybe a part time job. It looked like it was most certainly lived in by more than one person - a few odd touches here and there that were distinctly more feminine. More than anything, though, he most certainly was not expecting the slow, low click of a loading gun, the sound of the safety clicking off, a sound he had never quite gotten used to - and he wasn't expecting to find himself staring down the barrel of a very, very familiar Glock.

"What the fuck are you doin’ here, Winchester?"

Kayleigh Evans's voice made his heart stop in his chest, his eyes finding hers in the darkness. She was a healthier weight than he remembered from high school, from those four years that John had dragged her all over god’s green earth right there with him and Sammy - she’d filled out a bit, no longer almost concerningly thin - her hair was a bit longer, falling in messy curls down her shoulders and back, her eyes foggy with interrupted sleep - but she looked pissed. Even as angry as she was, he half-expected her to lower the gun - at least to point at center mass and not directly between his damn eyes - but there was no such luck. Apparently, seeing that he wasn’t a robber wasn’t reassuring her in the least, and did nothing to assuage her displeasure. If anything, it might have pissed her off even more.

"Whoa. Easy, Leigh. Put the gun down, and let's talk about this for a second." Dean said slowly, his hands raised in surrender. While he might have trusted Sam to be willing to have a semi-civil conversation, that wasn’t necessarily a risk he was willing to take with Kayleigh - not after how they’d left things, not with how he knew her temper, and certainly not with the fact that her first instinct upon seeing him, apparently, was to point what he could only safely assume was a loaded gun in his face.   

"What the fuck are you doin’ here?" She repeated, louder now - she didn’t seem to be trying not to wake Sam up - her eyes flashing back toward the rest of the apartment only briefly as she heard footsteps. Her posture didn’t ease, and the gun didn’t lower, however, even as her eyes met Sam’s, as the youngest Winchester finally came padding into the room.

"Sam, you wanna call off the attack dog here?" Dean demanded, though he clearly didn't think it was a particularly smart idea to move - not with the gun he'd given Kayleigh for her fourteenth birthday still pointed firmly between his eyes at point-blank range with no signs of lowering any time soon.

And to his immense frustration, Sam repeated, essentially, the same thing Kayleigh had said - albeit with distinctly more confusion, and one less loaded gun. "Dean? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I was lookin’ for a beer." Dean said, sounding more than a little exasperated by the entire situation. "Can we please get the gun out of my face, huh?" 

"Kay, it's fine." Sam finally said, maybe a bit reluctantly, as he stepped further into the room. Her eyes flashed to his, and slowly, slowly, the safety was back on with a low, soft 'click', and she was brushing past Sam a bit too roughly - more roughly than Dean had ever seen her be with the younger Winchester, damn near shoulder-checking him to show her displeasure - back toward the futon. And then his eyes were back on Dean, voice low, mildly impatient, as if he were speaking to a defiant child, not his older brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Okay, alright. We gotta talk.” Dean said simply, opening his arms in mock surrender. Sam stared at his brother for a beat, before dryly suggesting,

“The phone?” Dean’s expression soured just slightly. “If I’d’a called, would you have picked up?” He demanded. Sam hesitated briefly, and he finally relented with a roll of his eyes. 

"Sam?" A fourth voice joined the mix, the lights flicking on, flooding the living room with warm, bright light. For the first time, Dean could see around the room clearly - could see the futon Kayleigh was seated on, a duffel bag shoved beneath it, the painfully familiar sewn-over-and-over-again teddy bear that, even at twenty-six, Kayleigh appeared to have no problem carrying with her - the poor thing was practically more thread than it was ‘bear’ anymore, patched up by various hunters’ wives over the course of their childhood. "Kay?" And Dean's eyes finally flashed toward her, toward the pretty, slim blonde in the doorway. She was leaning against the doorframe, squinting just slightly, her eyes struggling to adjust to the light, and Sam turned sharply.

"Jess. Hey." He breathed out, as if she was all that mattered in that moment - as if seeing her was a relief that nothing else could possibly bring, a single ounce of normalcy in this whole, shitty moment. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." He finally said as he turned back to Dean - and, surprisingly, Jessica's face lit up.

"Your brother Dean?" She asked Sam, not seeming to notice - or maybe willfully ignoring - Dean's gaze on her. He wasn’t expecting that, somehow - that she’d know him, or know of him. He’d almost expected that he would have been relegated to some dark, secret corner, someone that Sam never spoke of. It was, admittedly, a pleasant surprise to know he was wrong.

Dean sauntered forward a step or two, encouraged, at least, by the gun no longer pointed at his face and Jessica's welcoming smile. "I love the Smurfs," He observed, motioning vaguely to Jessica's shirt. "Man, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

"Let me just go put something on." The smile had fallen from Jessica’s face as quickly as it had come, and her eyes darted to Kayleigh on the futon, to Sam at her side. Kayleigh just rolled her eyes and nodded - something even Dean could read as an unspoken ‘yep, that’s him alright’. 

"No, no, no, no - I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Dean said quickly - a little too quickly for Kayleigh's taste, if her expression was any indication - and she pointedly shifted herself to the edge of the futon, digging through her duffel briefly, before she started cleaning the damn gun, like an absolute cliche, her eyes not leaving his face. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business, but, uh - nice meeting you." His grin grew, and he gave a wink. Kayleigh's expression soured further, and Jess's grew mildly uncomfortable.

"No - no. Anything you wanna say, you can say it in front of her." Sam said firmly, and Kayleigh's eyes flashed to his, a look of distinct pride on her face.

"Okay." Dean said simply, as if the idea didn’t bother him at all - truth be told, it didn’t. "Dad hasn't been home in a few days." He didn't miss the derisive snort that Kayleigh let out, his jaw working briefly. "You got somethin' you wanna say, Leigh?" He bit out, though his eyes didn’t leave Sam - as if he didn’t trust his own temper if he let himself look at Kayleigh for too long, her attitude quickly beginning to grate on his already frayed nerves.

"So your jackass Dad's workin’ overtime on a Miller Time shift. I'm sure he'll stumble back in sooner or later." Kayleigh said lightly, not looking up from her gun. Sam fought to bite back a smile, even as a soft snort escaped, even as Jessica looked between the three like they'd gone nuts.

"Dad's on a hunting trip," Dean clarified, his voice cold, as his eyes flitted briefly to Kayleigh, and then shifted back to Sam. "And he hasn't been home in a few days." He let himself look back to Kayleigh, to take in the expression on her face. He could see the gears turning, see where her mind went - exactly where he’d intended. Her own father, slumped down in the passenger side of the Impala, his father driving - he didn’t have it in him to offer any kind word to soften that particular blow, even as he saw her expression change, her jaw work, her eyes dart back down to the gun in her lap.

That caught Sam's attention, and for a beat, silence reigned in the small living room. "Jess, excuse us. We need to go outside." Sam said quietly. "Kay, c'mon." Dean stared at Sam for a moment, looking like he wanted to protest - but at the look on Sam's face, he just nodded. This time, Dean let Sam lead the way to the front door of the apartment, sparing a moment to cast a glance around one more time, taking in the quiet domesticity of it - something he’d never had. In spite of everything else, he felt a swell of pride - Sammy deserved as much - and then it was gone as they stepped out into the hallway, Kayleigh pulling the door closed behind them.

All three were silent until Sam nudged open a side door, the cool night air coming in a welcome, refreshing blast - something to clear Dean’s racing mind, even if it was only for a moment. He let Dean pass, falling into step behind him, Kayleigh remaining a few steps behind - it seemed she trusted her own temper around Dean about as far as he trusted his own.

“I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.” Sam finally spoke, voice rather annoyed now as he made his way down the metal stairwell. He kept the volume just a bit quieter than he might have otherwise - maybe to avoid disturbing anyone sleeping above or below, or maybe to avoid drawing attention to, well, any of their conversation.

“You’re not hearin’ me, Sammy. Dad’s missing. I need you to help me find him.” Dean did his best to stay patient, to keep the quickly rising irritation out of his voice. He wasn’t sure he succeeded - the soft snort from Kayleigh several steps above him just confirmed as much.

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine.” The younger Winchester retorted, and, in spite of herself - maybe just to add a little fuel to the fire, Kayleigh finally spoke up.

“He’s always fine. The poor sons’a bitches he drags into it with him 'n anyone that trusts him usually aren’t, but… ‘S long as Dad’s okay, ‘s all good, right, Winchester?”

Dean stopped in his tracks, his boots clanking on the stairs as he turned to look back up at her, green eyes narrowing slightly. She stared right back, lips pursed into a thin line, as if daring him to argue, and Sam instinctively shifted, his shoulder just barely in front of Kayleigh’s chest on the step ahead of her, making a barrier between the two, just in case one of them made a move. Dean was silent for a long, long moment, his eyes fixed on Kayleigh’s. “That’s not what we meant, ‘n you know it, Leigh.” He bit out after a moment.

“No, but ‘s how it always goes down.” She retorted, and Sam drew in a deep breath, offering a quiet, ‘guys,’ as a halfhearted warning. Kayleigh ignored him, continuing. “Every time someone’s stupid enough to call John Winchester in to help, they get themselves killed instead. Sure as hell doesn’t make my dad or Jo’s dad the common fuckin’ denominator, Winchester. So why the hell d’you think anyone’s gonna wanna help? ‘N you wanna drag Sammy back into it?” 

His eyes fixed on hers, and he looked like he fully intended to continue arguing, before he finally appeared to choose to, just this once, be the bigger person, his eyes moving to Sam instead. He drew in a deep, steadying breath, his shoulders rising and falling slowly with the movement, and continued as though Leigh had never spoken up, glancing back up to Sam as he continued down the stairs, “He’s never gone for this long. Now are you gonna come with me, or not?”

“I’m not.” Sam said firmly, eyes fixing on Dean’s. “Look, whatever’s going on here, Dad can handle it.” He stopped dead in his tracks as Dean hit the last stair - abruptly enough that Kayleigh nearly slammed into him, reaching out for the banister to steady herself.

“What part’a this don’t you understand, Sammy? We have to find him. You have to help.” Dean forced himself not to sound as infuriated as he felt - instead, it came out a bit condescending, even to his own ears, like he was speaking to a child. He didn’t miss the way Kayleigh’s eyes flashed to his, a silent warning, so like the ones she’d given so many times when he’d come off too harsh on the little things - his little brother looking at colleges, trying out for a sports team instead of focusing on the job…

“...Why do you need my help?” Sam prompted, and Dean was growing more and more certain that he was being difficult on purpose.

“He’s our Dad. You’re his son. What more do you need? We’re supposed to be family here, Sam.” Dean’s jaw worked as he fought to keep his eyes on Sam, not to respond to the laugh that Kayleigh barked out, along with a soft ‘you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me’.

“News to me.” Sam said simply, though he did glance up to Kayleigh as he spoke, and there was no way for Kayleigh to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips. It wasn’t funny - none of this was funny - but god, was she proud of Sam. It was written all over her face, and it pissed Dean off, more than a little.

“No way you’re bringing that up now.” He grit out, scrubbing a hand over his face, purposely ignoring the intrigued - fucking nosy, was what it was - look on Kayleigh’s face as she shifted to lean against the banister.

“He tossed me – and Kay, for that matter, out on our asses. And you practically locked the door behind me –”

“I seem to remember a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth that night –”

“– and I haven’t heard one word from you guys in, what, two years? That sound like family to you?” 

Dean couldn’t stop himself – he let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You know, you’re even more of a selfish, stuck-up punk than I remember.”

“Oh, am I?” It almost, almost sounded like Sam was close to losing his temper - Kayleigh reached forward, grabbing a handful of the back of his shirt as he took one step down the stairs, one step closer to Dean.  

“Yeah. I mean, I know things have been rocky lately, but still... he’s Dad. And after everything he’s done for you…” 

“Everything he’s done for me?” As Sam spoke, his voice a mixture of incredulity and outrage, Dean opened his mouth like he was about to interrupt, but Sam continued on. “All he’s done for me - for us -” He motioned sharply between the three of them, “is set the land speed record for fucked up childhoods!” There was no mistaking the anger in his voice now - anger that even Kayleigh seemed wary of, if the tug she gave the fistful of tee-shirt was any indication. The younger Winchester brother paused, and, though it seemed like an afterthought, took a slow step backward, up to the step he’d previously vacated. 

“Don’t be overdramatic.” Dean scoffed out, determinedly avoiding the look on Kayleigh’s face. He wasn’t sure he could stand to look at it - to see the well-deserved agreement Sam’s words were getting. Even he couldn’t disagree - he really couldn’t.

“Dean,” Sam sounded exasperated now - back to the tone that reminded him so much of an impatient parent scolding a misbehaving kid. Like he was explaining all of this to a first-grader. “when I told him I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45!”

“Well, what was he supposed to do?” Dean demanded, barely resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest defensively, settling, instead, for shoving his hands into his pockets, staring up at Kayleigh and Sam defiantly. It was two against one - not good odds in a real fight, and not good odds in an argument. Not when Sam was as headstrong as John, and Kayleigh was just as stubborn as both of their fathers combined.

“He was supposed to say ‘ghost stories are just stories’! He was supposed to say ‘don’t be afraid of the dark’!” Sam couldn’t help the disbelief that had begun to slip into his tone. It felt so, so obvious. It should have been. 

“You should be.” Dean shot, any pretense of calm composure gone. “You know what’s out there in the dark. You should be freakin’ terrified.”

“I know. But still -” Sam started, only to be cut off.

“Sammy, should I be prepping for a point here anytime soon?” Dean couldn’t hide the exasperation beneath the anger in his tone - just for good measure, he cast a pointed glance down at his watch – which read well past two in the morning – and back at his younger brother.

“The point is... I never asked for it: the occult homework, and melting the silver into bullets, and the family road trips, hunting down all those freaky-ass things. I never wanted any of it, Dean.” 

“You can’t pick your family, Sam.” Dean shot, unable to keep the mild resentment from his voice now. 

“No, but I can live my own life. And all our gory dysfunction – I buried it, man. I swore I was done with it. For good.” The anger was fading from Sam’s tone, replaced with something Dean knew way better than he wanted to admit – a sort of exhausted resignation. He clearly knew that he wouldn’t be getting anywhere in this argument, wouldn’t be actually making any sort of point that Dean would ever agree with.

“You know as well as I do. Nothing stays buried.” Dean stared up at Sam and Kayleigh, his jaw working for a moment, before he quietly, reluctantly offered, “I can’t do this alone.” 

“Yes you can,” Sam protested, his brows furrowing. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.” He muttered begrudgingly, not meeting Sam’s eyes this time - and certainly not meeting Kayleigh’s. He didn’t want to see the expression there. While Sam’s was reluctant, maybe a bit torn, he was sure he’d see something worse in hers - utter indifference being the best of several bad options. Hell, he was pretty sure, on a bad day - and this one was feeling pretty damn bad, so far - she may have just laughed in his face, told him where he and his Dad could shove it, and never spoken to him again, and, like it or not, it was seeming like Kayleigh and Sam were coming - or not coming, which was seeming far more likely than he wanted - as a package deal.

He was expecting cold, humorless laughter from Kayleigh, maybe a cold shoulder from Sam. He was expecting something, anything other than for Kayleigh to remain quiet and stone-faced, keeping pace as Sam came down the last step between them. “Fine.” Sam scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a slow exhale. “What was he hunting?”

[onejellyfishplease]

WAIT WHAT'S HAPPENING??? I keep seeing posts about mosquitello being possessed or sumthin can you pleas elaborate I hav no frigging idea what's happening😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🐑

i think its best you scroll through my blog.

i have no way of summarising this. im sorry

[careless-with-your-heart]

"How could you?" he pants, swiping his knuckles across his mouth. He wheels upright, eyes wide and so full of fury that Kitty knows he isn't even seeing her.

Kitty's chest aches. She lifts a hand, drops it, takes a few steps back as Blaine staggers toward her. He's still drunk, despite what he'd just purged.

"I died when you died. And then, when I came back, I mourned you."

[neoryweory]

a story told in three photos

[muirneach]

oh so we’re just pissed in general this game

[musicforbroads]

Hivemind: Out Of Context

[msfangirlgonewild]

In the nutshell…

[chorastar]

I am currently on vacation but I haven’t drawn for a bit so here’s some sh!tty art bc why not

(For context the words were my thoughts yesterday at a football game I did not agree to go to, which I later thought, that is so tweek omfg)

[lilithafrodite]

Penelope and Colin are engaged and just want to spend time together. However temptation can sometimes turn into a scandal.