#so I think also think Sammy [blacks out] [dies]

[erwinsvow]

I can’t stop thinking about Jack or Pope’s reaction to reader wearing a sundress 😋 that’s it, that’s the tweet

😵‍💫imagining this made me a little dizzy not gonna lie. for jack it is somehow so much sweeter since he’s so used to seeing you in the same scrubs and like occasionally a hoodie or the patagonia everyone has (ik you know!!!). he tries to learn about you from the very little things like the college on your pullover, the sports team logo on the hoodie, whatever he can make out from the charms on your keys. and then even after you two start really dating you have to find a perfect time where one or both of you isn’t working to go on a real date, so i can imagine he does that romcom movie stare when he sees you, literally can’t stop looking, wonders how it’s legal for you to wear the same scrubs as him all day when you should be decked out in this all the time. and he is such a lover boy, has a favorite of all your dresses (the one from the first date! a close second is the one you wear at the residents retreat, when some rando was flirting with you and he swooped in and you introduced him to the rando as your boyfriend. randos face went pale and he said oh. dr. abbot. your boyfriend. and the memory of it makes him pleased to this day) also! if you have seen that video where the husband picks out a dress for the wife every anniversary, I think he would do something like that. or make sure that you get time to go pick out a new dress for the anniversary dinner (even when you have kids and he wrangles a crying toddler and fussy twins because he refuses to go on an anniversary date without your new dress) dreamy sigh guys

pope!!!!!! it’s so warm and sunny there I think he’d be used to seeing you in a pretty dress all the time. and I think his reaction is the same every time—comes and keeps a hand around your waist the entire time you’re around other people, doesn’t let go until he’s got you home safely alone and even then he’s so touchy. i think he gets to that point where he likes that he can show you off but everyone knows who you belong to so it’s fine if that makes sense. and especially babysitter or wifey or whatever else we think of for him. especially!!!!!!! this man would have you knocked up like year round so especially when it’s too hot to even think about putting on pants in the summer over your belly. like I think he goes feral when he sees you pregnant in a pretty dress holding Lena’s hand and balancing a toddler on your hip. does that make sense. he’s like ok we need another one pronto

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[pagannatural]

2.03 Bloodlust

-Sam flirts with Dean by telling him (and the Impala) to get a room. Meanwhile he’s looking at Dean like this and the two of them are, literally, getting a room.

-Sam tells the bartender “we’re looking for some people” and the bartender says “sure, hard to be lonely.”

Sam blinks wide, grimaces. Dean looks at him, assessing. Sam looks down and then at Dean while he says “yeah, but, um…” slowly, then he regroups and pulls out a fifty, “that’s not what I meant.” There’s a sexual implication to being lonely and looking for someone at a bar, and the brothers share a very loaded look about it. It’s like this bartender accidentally hit on a truth.

Sam has been lonely for Dean. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to him and spend time with him since their dad died, and Dean has been shutting Sam out emotionally. Sam knows Dean is lonely for him too, even though he won’t say it.

-Sam notices something is off when Dean says he’s been itching for a hunt. He and Dean also make prolonged eye contact after Dean kills a vampire and his face is spattered with blood, and Sam notices Dean is unsettled. They give each other strength just by staring into each others eyes. Sam’s always paying attention to Dean.

-Dean also notices right away that Sam’s off and asks him if he’s okay. Noticing Sam, for him, is less watchful and more like noticing the orbit of his own moon. Gravity’s off, something’s up with Sam.

-Sam went from correcting Dean every time he used Sam’s nickname to “he’s the only one who gets to call me that.” It’s so possessive, like he’s saying I’m his not yours. Dean notices and smiles to himself. Then he says “Sammy remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later” you’re gonna do what to him later?

-Sam’s development from telling Dean he has to let him go to identifying him as the only one who can use his nickname is also the change from Sam seeking distance to Sam acquiescing to being Dean’s.

-Dean tells Gordon a story about killing a monster at 16 while Sammy waited in the car. He didn’t need to mention where Sammy was, he wasn’t a part of the story, but he has a condition* that makes him talk about Sammy to strangers whenever he’s not there (*wretched, soul-crushing love).

-Dean tells Gordon he always thought of his dad as indestructible. Now he’s questioning everything about his dad’s teachings and realizing the version of John in his head is not the only one.

-Sam says he sees through Dean’s fake smile and knows how Dean feels, because he feels the same way. When Sam says that Dean’s behavior is “an insult to [John’s] memory,” Dean kind of nods and raises his eyebrows like “you have no fucking idea” before punching Sam in the face.

-For once, Sam is way off about Dean. He has no idea how Dean feels or what he’s dealing with. The idea of insulting vs honoring John’s memory is complicated for Dean right now. He’s seeing Sam being protective of John for maybe the first time ever and I can just imagine Dean thinking, I raised you, and the man you finally want to respect as your father asked me to kill you.

-Dean looks regretful after he punches Sam, like he’s realizing he took it too far, and Sam looks hurt and taken aback, his eyes searching to and away from Dean and his mouth open. And then Sam tells Dean, “you can hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.”

There are some potential layers to that.

1. They’re arguing about something else here, at the same time—whether or not vampires can choose to act ethically or if they’re inherently evil. Sam implores Dean not to kill them, believing the former. Dean wants killing to be black and white due to Dead Dad’s Last Words reasons. Hitting Sam won’t make the issue any clearer.

2. Sam’s words could be interpreted as “you can hurt me all you want and it won’t change how I feel.” About Dean. Or “whatever you do it won’t change the way things are.” Between them.

3. Sam has been begging Dean to give him something real and emotional, he’s been pushing and pushing him to get a reaction, escalating and becoming more desperate. Now Dean has responded. He’s hurt Sam, but that means he’s touched him out of uncontrollable emotion—or better yet has chosen to inflict his feelings and needs upon Sam’s body. The pain is better than nothing.

It’s hard to be lonely.

-When I first saw this scene I was shook. Dean hit his baby brother! My best guess is that Dean has never punched him like this before, outside of the context of sparring. I might be wrong about that, but the way Sam accepts the punch and turns slowly back to Dean with that disbelieving look felt too significant. I thought Sam was going to feel betrayed or scared, but Sam’s resolve strengthens, he gazes after Dean, and then he follows him.

And then things go right back to normal between them.

-Another thing Sam is missing is that Dean trusts Gordon partially because Dean can identify with Gordon. Gordon said he hunts vampires because vampires killed his sister, and Dean trusts another protective brother.

-Sam tracks the nest and Dean says “you’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Just like that they’re reconciled. Sam’s face is probably still throbbing, it’s been like 3 minutes.

-When Gordon pulls a knife on Sam and admits he killed his sister himself, it’s over for him. Dean is not having any of that.

-Dean punches Gordon in the face in front of Sam, then moves really close to Sam to tell him they can leave now. It’s like he wants Sam to see what he’ll do to anyone who threatens him. Dean is the only one who’s allowed to hurt Sam. He also asks Sam to punch him to get him back, so he clearly feels guilty.

-Dean’s true nature is a huge theme in this episode. He’s trying to understand who he is. Gordon tells him that he was “born to hunt” and “a killer like me.” John wrote the same things about child-Dean in his diary.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam that he has the instinct to kill and would’ve killed the vampires. That’s how he was raised, it’s what John told him to do. I love how Dean is a caregiver and a killer in equal measure, he takes naturally to both violence and nurturing.

Sam reminds him he made the right choice. Dean says “yeah cause you’re a pain in my ass.” He made the decision because of Sam. He’ll kill for Sam but he’ll also decide not to kill for Sam.

Sam says “I guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass then.” Dean thanks him and gazes at him intently. Even here, notice the mention of their connection being painful.

Sam is now agreeing to stick with Dean not because of what John would’ve wanted but because he’s accepting his role as Dean’s guiding light, the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose and good.

Dean’s purpose is not killer or caregiver, but protector. He’s guardian of Sam’s soul.

[deathsmallcaps]

Little Sinners thoughts that I don’t quite know how to articulate further and may be a bit of a reach. And I’m sure others have mentioned it.

1. At the beginning of the movie, the Moore men, Stack wears red (blood, damnation), Smoke wears blue (salvation, justice) and Sammie wears yellow (joy, cowardice [he lies a lot at the beginning but comes to accept himself and stand up for his chosen destiny]). At the end when he’s old, Sammie wears mostly blue and Stack mostly wears red and yellow, though other colors are present.

2. Annie wears blue throughout the film. Mary’s first two outfits* are a VERY pale pink (aka light red), and in the post credits scene, a strong outfit of both Black and White - maybe symbolizing her heritage. When we meet Pearline, she is wearing blue, but then later wears white - which is often a funerary color in West African cultures.

*it’s hard to tell but the behind the scenes pictures do show that at the very least, her outfit at the juke joint was pink and not cream

3. The two people of whom Sammie is truly afraid, the Pastor/his Father and Remmick, are both narcissists (I don’t think I’m using the tumblr definition) who want to use him for their own legacy. I LOVE the flashes between the two when Sammie stands in the church.

4. Ludwig Goranssen also did the music for both Black Panther movies. I guess he and Ryan Coogler have a good working relationship!

5. The only actor out of the main 6 characters (5 actors but still)(Jayme Lawson was Bella Reál** in The Batman) who hasn’t been in a superhero movie is Miles Caton. Let’s fix this! lol.

** I love her in there. If Zoe Kravitz doesn’t return for The Batman Part II, I think Bruce and Bella would make for an incredibly compelling couple.

5. Remmick fucked with those people’s ability to dance. They all did a lot better while in the juke joint, but when he sang that goblin song they were stumbling and unsure. Meanwhile they show they were perfectly capable of moving well despite being injured new vampires. He wanted to shine, so he made his new ‘followers’ dance poorly.

6. (This movie uses stylized coloring so this one is a little rough) At the beginning, Grace is wearing a yellow main dress but three collars at her neck - blue, red, and yellow. Bo also wears all three colors (yellow in the straps under the apron, again could possible just be a shading thing). Later, she wears a dress covered in small tulips, and I can’t get a great read on their coloring**. She is definitely a controversial character (I love her) so if we take the color theory seriously, then the collar of her apron presented a character who is supposed to be unreadable. But in the end, while she does act out of fear and panic for her daughter, she ultimately saves her baby, & dies without even being turned.

** in one shot it looks largely blue, and in another it looks largely yellow. Judging from the changeability, the background is probably white - and white is also a funerary color in Chinese cultures. Notably, the green stems are included and consistent. Let’s just assume in my continued metaphor, she is both yellow and blue.

7. For the record, I don’t think Grace made the worst choice, despite popular opinion. The juke joint crew at best could’ve waited until morning and maybe take a few vamps out from the windows with enough fire, garlic and holy water. But the vampires clearly had the upper hand - they could leave at any time, and they themselves were perfectly capable of setting the building on fire. PLUS she was the ONLY one out of the crew who had known leverage that was within easy reach of the vampires and was actively threatened. Sammie had both his parents and apparently a gaggle of little siblings***. But they’re never threatened. Aside from Stack, there’s a good chance that out of the entire population of new vampires, hardly anyone knew where they lived. Meanwhile,

*** from what I understand during the conversation about child abuse

[lesbiannieism]

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT SINNERS WAS SO GOOD OH MY GODDDDDD

- first line already had me absolutely hooked. music being powerful enough to pierce the veil between space and time and life and death? sign me the fuck up alright that is my shit

- michael b jordan in TWO roles = twice as much michael b jordan = sign me the fuck up

- did not know hailee steinfeld was in it so when she showed up it was very much a “what the hell is a polar bear doing in arlington texas” moment. but also sign me the fuck up. also mary being at the party was such a great inversion of the “black man dies first” trope because from the moment she showed up i was like “oh shit this white girl is definitely going to be the first to die”

- miles caton new love of my life perhaps? his voice? his face? he had no acting experience prior to the film and yet he was able to move me so? and sammie as a character is 10/10 i mean what more could you ask for, i was thoroughly charmed

- wunmi mosaku played annie with such gravitas, she really was such a stand out character. and the effects they used in the scene where she was like “i have been protecting you all these years you’ve been gone” was just incredible

- actually just in general the effects they used to switch between the normal scenes and the supernatural scenes were on point

- it was probably right on the threshold of what i can handle in terms of horror movies (while i love the way that the horror genre can explore social and political and cultural topics, i also get nightmares very easily so i do not watch them very often). but sinners was just thrilling enough that i was gripped by every moment of it without being too much

- pussy eating? 10/10

- slaughtering a bunch of klan members at the end? 10/10

- as a vampire movie? 10/10

- as a period piece? 20/10

- as an exploration of the way music can reach the human soul in a way that nothing else can? 1000/10

- the music scene where sammie was playing and everyone was dancing and then the past and future music and started to come in? might be the single greatest scene of a movie that i have ever seen in my entire life

- the layers of family... the parent-child dynamics, the lovers dynamics, the brothers dynamics, the community dynamics, all of it was absolutely incredible. like imagine that you are trapped in a room with everyone you know and love and you have to watch them all fall to vampirism one by one

- i could probably write whole essays on the commentary on race relations and social hierarchies and family and community and religion but that requires a level of coherentness that i simply do not possess at the moment

- the only slight letdown is that i thought it would be about vampire hunters (not a huge letdown since it was still incredible but i think vampire hunters are so sexy so i was looking forward to it) so the choctaw vampire hunters was such a great bit

- genuinely can’t think of a hotter vampire couple than michael b jordan and hailee steinfeld. i am feeling an immense urge to draw them throughout the decades because wow

- the ending was so perfect honestly because the whole intro scene and then flashback was setting sammie up to reject music at the end because of all of the trouble it brought but music encapsulates all of life, the good the bad and the ugly, and to reject that means not really being alive even if you’re living, so he chose to embrace it and live life to its fullest which is just so perfect

- i know there was more i was gonna say but my thoughts are all jumbled but the point is that i am in awe and it was every bit as incredible as i thought it would be

- also i watched it at an alamo so for the “don’t talk don’t text” bit at the beginning ryan coogler was like “don’t talk don’t text or you will be smited.” and then it showed a picture of michael b jordan with his tits out and he was like “ oh also don’t worship false idols, he’s just a mortal man” 💀

[chiefpapermuffinpasta]

a deadly calm inside 2 -

pairing: dean winchester x oc!witch!reader

TW! there is a small point in this chapter where someone is being burnt with a slight description of the moment - "She could smell the burning wood, thick in the air, suffocating.."

chapter summary: After parting ways with Marjorie, Dean returns to the motel, unsettled, while Sam makes a discovery in their father’s journal that raises more questions than answers. Meanwhile, Marjorie senses something watching her, a presence growing closer until it finally forces her to flee. When the Winchesters track her down, she’s injured and evasive, refusing to let them get too involved. But as the threat looms nearer, she has no choice but to accept their help—whether she wants to or not.

word count: 12k

marjorie outfit inspo

big difference in the word count for this chapter; sorry! i am trying to get chapters out as much as i can while I have the time to, so some may be long, but i always loved long chapters anyway lol. i also didn't mention this in the first chapter, but this is a slow burn, so i apologize for the lack of romance in these first couple chapters. anyway, enjoy chapter 2!

*****

The motel room was dimly lit, the hum of the old heater filling the silence between the brothers. Dean sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it held all the answers. Sam, meanwhile, had his laptop open, scrolling through whatever nerdy crap kept him occupied, his brows furrowed in the way they always did when he was piecing together something big.

“So,” Sam finally broke the silence. “The hunt went well?”

Dean let out a slow breath. “Yeah. The kid’s safe. Something was feeding on nightmares. But…” He glanced up at his brother, his expression unreadable. “That’s not the only thing we walked away with tonight.”

Sam leaned back in his chair. “Marjorie.”

Dean exhaled sharply. “Yeah.”

Sam nodded. “She was a witch.”

Dean scoffed. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Sam closed his laptop halfway and gave him a look. “Just making sure we’re clear.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Clear about what? That she’s dangerous? That she’s not our problem anymore?”

Sam studied him for a beat, then sighed. “That’s the thing, Dean—I don’t think she is dangerous.”

Dean’s head snapped up. “You serious?”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, yeah, she’s a witch, but from what you told me? She saved that girl. She saved you. She didn’t ask for anything in return, didn’t try to screw us over—hell, she didn’t even stick around.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause she knows better.” He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sammy, we’ve been down this road before. She’s got power, and that never comes free. Yeah, she helped on this case, but something about her gives me the heebie jeebies. She’s too nice.”

Sam flipped his laptop back open. “I did some digging while you were out playing cowboy.”

Dean scowled. “Excuse me?”

Sam smirked and turned the screen toward him. “Check this out.”

A black-and-white newspaper clipping filled the screen, the edges worn, the ink faded with time. The image was grainy, but the details were clear enough—a young woman with striking red hair and sharp blue eyes stared back at them. She looked happy. Beside her stood a younger girl, arms wrapped around Marjorie’s legs, both of them beaming.

Dean’s stomach tightened. The girl in the picture—she was exactly the same. No signs of aging. No difference at all.

He read the name below the image: Marjorie Bigland.

His mouth went dry. “Son of a bitch.”

“Born in 1870,” Sam said, scrolling down. “Died in 1892. At least, that’s what the records say.” He shot Dean a pointed look. “Obviously, that’s not true.”

Dean stared at the screen. “So what happened to her?”

Sam kept scrolling. “There were stories. Some called her a healer. A protector. But most?” He tapped the screen. “They called her a witch.”

Dean snorted. “Shocker.”

Sam’s shoulder slumped. “Dean, I don’t think she’s like the witches we usually deal with. She’s been around for centuries, and from what I’ve read, she’s been fighting things like that for a long time.” He met Dean’s eyes. “She’s not the enemy here.”

Dean shook his head. “C’mon, Sam. You know how this ends. Magic like that? It’s never clean. There’s always a cost. Not to mention, she only bothered to mention what we were dealing with after we killed it. Not exactly helpful. What even is a mare?”

“European folklore. A spirit that sits on people’s chests causes nightmares, kills them in their sleep.”

“Okay, Einstein, we get it, you’re the smart one.”

Sam leaned forward. “Whatever. But tell me this— if she was dangerous, why didn’t she kill you when she had the chance?”

Dean rubbed his hand against his chin.

“She wasn’t the enemy, Dean,” Sam pressed. “You know that.”

Dean didn’t respond right away. He thought about the way Marjorie had stepped into that nightmare, how she’d fought like someone who’d been doing this for over a century. How she’d looked at him like she’d seen his kind before—hunters, killers, men who burned women like her at the stake.

Finally, he exhaled. “Yeah, well… she’s not a friend, either.”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Dean stretched back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Something told him neither he nor Marjorie Bigland were done with each other yet.

*****

Marjorie slipped through the tense trees with ease, her boots squelching softly against the damp Earth. The woods whispered around her, the distant hoot of an owl blending with the rustling of wind through the branches. 

By the time she reached the clearing, the moon was high, casting a silver light over the small cabin nestled between towering pines. It was old, older than the town itself. A relic from a different life. 

She traced her fingers on the rough wood door before pushing it open. Inside, the air smelled of dried herbs, aged parchment, and wood-smoke. The space was small but comfortable. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books bound in cracked leather, and glass jars containing things most people wouldn’t recognize. Half-burned candles dripping wax down their holders. A fireplace crackled loudly in the corner, casting large shadows around the room. 

Everything here had a purpose. A protection sigil was carved into the wooden floor under a patterned rug, hidden from potential prying eyes. The windows were warded, not that anyone ventured deep enough into the woods to find her. A few people from the town knew where she stayed; they just thought she was eclectic. A few thought she could be Amish. 

Marjorie set her satchel down on the sturdy oak table, its fringe swaying gently with the movement. She carefully pulled out what remained of the protective hex bag she had left at Abby’s house; the twine was singed, the herbs inside brittle- used up. She would have to make another. 

With a flick of her wrist, the vinyl record next to her filled the room with the familiar melody of Sisters of the Moon by Fleetwood Mac, the song making her chuckle a bit. The universe always had its ways of teasing her. 

With practiced movements, she reached for a bundle of dried sage, grinding it between her fingertips. Next was crushed lavender and iron shavings. The ritual was muscle memory by now, something she did without thinking. But her mind was elsewhere.

On him. 

On Dean Winchester. 

The hunter with a sharp tongue and even sharper instincts. He was fearless; one of the most she’d ever seen. That doesn’t matter.She had met plenty like him before- men who didn’t trust witches or the stereotypes that came with them. Who only saw them as a means to an end. But he was different, curious. He didn’t look at her with a burning hatred, at least not anymore.

Little did she know, Dean was exactly like the men she had met before. He had put down countless amounts of witches, so what made Marjorie different?

That was dangerous.

She couldn’t afford curiosity. Not his. Not her own.

Her grip on the twine she used to tie the contents together tightened, old memories clawing their way to the surface. Ripping and scratching up her throat as they tried pull themselves to the forefront. 

She had learned the hard way what would happen to her if she let anyone too close. 

She could smell the burning wood, thick in the air, suffocating. The way the fire crackled as it climbed higher, licking the wooden stake she had been secured to. The jeering voices of the men who had once been her neighbors, her friends. Singing and laughing, dancing as beer sloshed over the sides of the steins hung lazily in their hands. They shrieked curses at her, their voices slurred moderately from the alcohol. She begged and she pleaded, but no to avail; her skin started to tighten and rip, falling off her bone like a leaf transitioning from Summer to Fall. Her joints locked up tightly, her hands involuntarily clenching into tight fists, her nails breaking the skin of her palms. It was so hot and she could do nothing. Eventually, the flames had invaded her body and the smoke crowded her lungs enough to the point where her breath had no where to go and she died. 

She had trusted them.

She had saved them- kept their crops growing, their water clean, and their children healthy. And in the end, it hadn’t mattered. 

Because she was different. She became something they feared. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t killed those kids; she loved them. Read them stories and threw pebbles in the lake with them, telling them it would grant them wishes. 

But, she had burned for it. 

Marjorie exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if the movement could dislodge the memories from their place. That was more than a lifetime ago. Another version of herself, that she kept buried deep down where no one could weave their fingers into it. 

But she still carried the scars.  

She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her forefinger and middle finger, remnants of herbs sticking to her skin. She had spent decades avoiding people like him, keeping to the edges of things, stepping in only when necessary. Tonight had reminded her that some things were harder to walk away from than others. 

The hunt was over, they should be miles away by now. 

Why did she have the sinking feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw Dean Winchester? 

Once she felt satisfied with the hex bags, Marjorie moved to a small room at the back of the house. She sat on her bed, legs crossed, fingers gliding over the worn quilt, drenching her in comfort. She held a small wooden box in her lap, the fire in the other room still crackling loudly. Her fingers hovered over the box, hesitant.

She thought of Abby. A girl with the seemingly perfect apple pie life. Trapped in a house filled with people, but feeling nothing but loneliness. She could’ve died tonight. Her parents would come back to their daughter gone, childless and Abby would’ve died without ever experiencing everything she could do. Everything she could be. She is smart and beautiful and so kind; the world needs someone like Abby. 

Marjorie exhaled shakily and lifted the lid off the box. 

Nestled between old yellow pages and rosemary sprigs was the same picture the Winchesters had found. The same one she kept carefully through the years, despite telling herself she should burn it, erase it. It’s edges were completely worn down, any sense of the original shape completely removed. The sodium chloride used to print photographs at the time it was taken had worn the paper down a good deal. But it was perfect. 

The girl in the picture smiled up at her, frozen in time. 

Dark curls framed her face, and her dress- elegant, but simple- hinted at a different era. Her hands wrapped tightly around Marjorie’s lower half, eyes full of light and life. 

Marjorie's fingers trembled as they ran across the paper. Memories again pressed in, but she pushed them away. 

She pushed the picture back into the box, closing the lid with a quick, loud snap. Some things were better left buried. 

*****

Weeks later, the Winchesters found themselves in yet another damp, smelly motel room. Dean sat with his feet propped up on the edge of the bed, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, while Sam sat at the small table, his laptop open and fingers typing away. 

Dean huffed loudly, breaking the calm silence. “Another hunt for the books. Everyone’s happy.” They had just finished a run-of-the-mill salt and burn in West Virginia. His voice lacked conviction. The satisfaction that usually came with completing a job wasn’t there. Something gnawed at him, something he couldn’t shake and it wasn’t the leftover crumbs on his t-shirt. 

Sam glanced over his shoulder, eyes scanning John’s journal for what seemed like the hundredth time. Something for them to grab a lead on where their father was. Dean knew his brother- he’d been different ever since they wrapped up their most recent hunt. Sam was on the verge of something, and Dean could feel it in his gut. 

“What’s up?” Dean asked, half-interested, more concerned with his brother’s weird behavior than whatever he was looking at. 

“I think I found something,” Sam elaborated slowly, flipping through the journal to a specific page. He started reading aloud:

Late October 1989. Partnered with an unlikely ally tonight. A woman. Said her name was Marjorie. Never heard of her, but she knew the terrain, knew all about the vamp we were hunting, and a lot more random crap I didn’t listen to. Seemed dangerous, but she saved my ass. Not sure I should trust her, but we made a deal. Won’t see her again, probably. Gotta keep moving. 

The words filled into Dean’s head, hitting him harder than he expected. 

“Think it’s a coincidence?” Sam inquired. 

Dean wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel, staring at the page. “I dunno. What’s your point?”

Sam closed the journal and turned to Dean, curiosity in his eyes. “The point is… there’s a possibility that Dad worked with her. And if he trusted her-”

Dean stood up, cutting Sam off. “He literally wrote how he didn’t trust her, Sam.”

“He must have. At least a little bit. Enough to work with her.”

“He worked with her once. She’s a witch man, she saved my skin once too, but she could’ve killed me just as easily.” Dean started to pace a bit. 

Sam’s expression softened, like he was trying to reason with a brick wall. “Look, I’m not saying we should just throw caution to the wind. But Dad- the guy who barely worked with anyone who wasn’t Bobby- admitted that she saved his life. Yeah, he said she was dangerous, but that has to count for something. There’s more to whatever he wrote.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “What happens when we let our guard down? You know just as well as I do how that ends. Trusting witches is a surefire way to get yourself screwed.” 

Dean stopped pacing, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. What the hell was he getting so worked up about? His fingers dug into his palms, the same way they had when he and Marjorie were on that girls porch. He turned toward the window, looking out at the empty parking lot.

“We should just leave this alone, man,” he muttered. “There’s a reason Dad said she was dangerous. She’s old, man, like ancient, and we know nothing about her. I’m not about to walk into a witch’s web without knowing what’s at stake just because her hair smelt nice.” Dean is rambling at this point. 

Sam shoots him a teasing look. “Shut up.” Dean snaps.

“I didn’t say anything.” 

Sam didn’t argue. “Listen, I get it. But I think we should consider looking for her. Not because we trust her, but because she might know something. She might know stuff about Dad. I mean he wouldn’t have wrote about her in the journal if it didn’t mean something.”

Dean didn’t want to get sucked into this. Into her. They were so close to finding John. They had so many other things to focus on. But there was a part of him- the part that wanted answers- that couldn’t shake the feeling that Marjorie was important. More important than he wanted to admit. 

“Yeah, well,” Dean breathed. “I’m not going on a wild goose chase to look for her. If she pops up again, fine. We’ll deal with it. But I’m not gonna go hunting for some witch just because Dad worked with her.” 

Sam opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut just as quickly. Dean wasn’t ready to give in, not yet. 

He turned back to the journal, his fingers brushing against the pages. “I just want to find Dad.”

Dean's gaze turned back toward the window. The night outside was still and dark. Nothing moved. It felt like everything was on edge. 

Dean knew they would confront her again, he just didn’t know when. 

*****

The woods whispered like they were trading their secrets.

Marjorie stood on the porch of her cabin, arms crossed tightly around herself against the cold, eyes trained on the tree line. The forest had a rhythm, a cadence she had learned long ago—branches creaked, frost-crusted leaves shivered in the wind, and unseen creatures rustled through the underbrush. But tonight, something had shifted.

The air was too still. The quiet, too thick.

She wasn’t alone.

For the past week, that feeling had lingered—an itch beneath her skin, an awareness that slithered up her spine when she stepped outside. At first, she had dismissed it as paranoia, the ghost of old enemies whispering in the back of her mind. But then came the omens: dead birds scattered in the snow, their eyes missing; the sharp scent of sulfur clinging to her doorstep; the way the wind would suddenly stop, leaving the world breathless.

Something was coming for her. She had no idea when,s he found no way to anticipate the unseen. She tried spells and incantations, scrying more time than she would’ve liked to get a birds-eye view of the situation. She was exhausted. 

Marjorie huffed, her breath curling in the frigid air.

It was only a matter of time.

She turned back inside, bolting the heavy wooden door behind her. She pressed her palm to the wooden table, whispering an incantation under her breath. A flicker of blue light shimmered across the surface before vanishing. The wards still held, but they were fraying at the edges. Whatever force was stalking her was stronger than she had seen in a very long time.

She needed to be ready.

Marjorie grabbed a small blade from the table, the handle smooth and worn from years of use. Her magic was strong but steel had its own power. Sometimes, a knife in the ribs worked just as well as a spell. Using magic was like running a 5k, even for a natural like herself. It took her breath and made her head feel like a thousand little marbles had been thrown inside it. 

The wind howled suddenly, rattling the windowpanes. A single candle flickered, its flame bending unnaturally before snuffing out entirely.

Her pulse quickened.

Then, the first sign of danger—silence.

Not just the absence of sound, but the utter stilling of the world. The trees no longer swayed. The fire in the hearth dulled as if holding its breath. Even the air felt frozen, suspended in anticipation.

It was here. She thought it may have given her a bit more time, but alas, wishful thinking. 

The door exploded inward. Wood shattered like brittle bone, splinters slicing through the air. She felt small fragments graze her face, breaking the skin slightly. The force knocked over a chair and sent papers fluttering from the table like startled birds. Marjorie whirled, knife in hand, heart pounding.

A shadow filled the doorway.

Tall, cloaked in darkness, its face was hidden by a skull mask, a human skull. Its skin resembled stone, small cracks littering its body. Thick black smoke aligned around the creature, like a portal waiting to welcome it back. She knew that it expected her to go back with it. A voice, rasping and jagged like rusted metal, slithered through the space between them.

"Found you. It’s been a long time, witch."

The words curled in the air like the smoke enclosing them.

Marjorie moved fast. With a flick of her wrist, the fireplace roared to life, flames twisting unnaturally, reaching outward like hungry fingers. The figure did not flinch. Even as the flames danced across its hardened skin, it just stood there, cackling at her. 

She barely had time to whisper a protection spell before the creature lunged.

A gust of unseen force struck her, sending her skidding backward, her shoulder colliding with the edge of the table. Pain bloomed across her ribs, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself up.

No hesitation. No mercy.

She ripped a vial from her belt and hurled it forward. The glass shattered against the figure’s chest, its contents igniting upon impact. A searing burst of white fire engulfed it, a scream tearing through the cabin like a dying animal’s cry. If normal fire couldn’t hurt it, maybe white magic would. She shrugged, impressed at her work. 

It wouldn’t kill it. But it would buy her time.

She bolted for the back door in her bedroom, throwing her hand outward. The bookshelves collapsed behind her, a wall of wood, books, and crystals clattering onto the floor. Maybe that would slow it down. She wasn’t really thinking. She didn’t look back.

The cold hit her like a slap in the face as she tore into the woods, bare branches clawing at her skin. She winced as the air itched at the cuts still fresh in her skin. The ground was uneven, dipping down with every step as the mud around her liquefied, but she kept running. Running was survival. Running was instinct.

Then—pain.

A sharp, searing agony bloomed in her side, white-hot and cruel. She gasped, stumbling, her fingers pressing into the wound. Warmth seeped through her coat. Blood. The hot liquid was abundant, coating her hands and shirt more and more by the second. 

“This was my favorite shirt.” She grunted. 

Marjorie gritted her teeth, forcing herself forward, but the world tilted. Her vision swam. Reaching trees turned horizontally and their leaves blurred with each staggering step she took. 

She needed to get away. Disappear. Get as far away from that thing as possible. 

Problem is, she had no idea where to go.

*****

The morning after their last hunt, Sam sat at the motel room’s small table, flipping through John’s journal again. Dean was nursing a cup of coffee, pretending not to pay attention.

“You’re still on that?” Dean asked, barely glancing up.

Sam didn’t bother looking away from the pages. “It’s worth looking into.”

Dean exhaled, stretching back in his chair. “Sam, we don’t even know if she’s still alive, let alone if she’s got anything useful for us. I say drop it. ”

“She’s alive,” Sam said, certain. 

Dean drummed his fingers on the table. “Even if she is, that doesn’t mean we should go looking for her. I told you, if our paths cross, fine. But until then, stop worrying about it. 

Sam finally looked up, his expression pointed. “Dad worked with her.”

Dean met his gaze, unamused. “Oh my god, Sammy. Are we really gonna do this again?” 

“But he let her live.”

Dean scoffed. “So? He let a lot of things live. He probably didn’t even know she was a witch. Doesn’t mean we should go knocking on her door. I’m serious man, drop it.”

Sam huffed and shut the journal with a soft thud. “Fine.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “You’re right.” 

That made Dean pause.

Dad’s journal wasn’t exactly a diary—he kept secrets, and left things unsaid. If Marjorie was in there at all, it meant something. And with their dad still missing, every lead counted. Maybe she could help them find their dad. The trail went cold and they have hadn’t a case in days. 

Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright. Let’s see what we can dig up.”

Tracking Marjorie down wasn’t easy. She was a ghost, existing only in whispers and half-told stories. Most hunters they asked had never heard of her. The few who had? They were tight-lipped, shifting in their seats, reluctant to say much of anything.

“Hunters are scared of her,” Sam noted after one particularly unhelpful interview.

Dean nodded, pulling the Impala onto the main road. “Yeah. And that’s what worries me.” She didn’t seem scary. She smelled like cinnamon rolls and her nails were painted a soft blue. What’s so scary about that? 

Eventually, a lead took them to a retired hunter outside of Boulder, a man named Elias Greene. He had worked with John years ago and remembered the red-haired woman who had appeared on a hunt, seemingly out of nowhere.

“She knew things she shouldn’t have,” Elias muttered, staring into his drink plainly. “Tracked the thing like she’d hunted it before. Like she could feel it. Spooked your dad, but he let her stick around. Never seen a hunter her age with that much skill.”

A hunter. Funny. 

“Do you know where she went after that?” Sam pressed.

Elias shook his head. “No. But she wasn’t the type to settle down somewhere. Didn’t even say bye, just got into this beat-up truck and ran off. If you’re looking for her, don’t expect a warm welcome.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. Truck. Sam scribbled. 

An old contact of John’s, a woman named June, finally pointed them toward the deep woods of Missouri. Where she and Dean had saved Abby.  “If she’s anywhere,” she said, “she’s out there. She’s a town favorite, everyone there knows her. They love her; for what reason, I don’t know. That girl’s smart, and calculated. Why are you boys looking for her anyway?”

“She’s his baby mama.” 

Sam’s neck cracked at the speed as he turned to look at Dean. Dean’s tongue poked from his mouth, obviously satisfied with himself. “He’s joking.” 

The drive into Missouri was long and quiet, the landscape growing wilder with each mile. When they finally reached the remote stretch of forest June had mentioned, both brothers knew instantly they were close.

Dean cut the engine, letting the silence settle. “Feel that?”

Sam nodded. “Something’s off.”

They followed an overgrown path, moving carefully. It didn’t take long to find the cabin—or what was left of it. A 1980 sky-blue Chevy flipped onto its top in front of the mess. 

Girls got good taste, Dean thought to himself.

The place was wrecked. The door hung from broken hinges, and the windows shattered. The air inside smelled of scorched wood and blood. Someone had torn through the place, and whoever had done it hadn’t been human. Did she do this? 

Sam crouched near the fireplace, where a dark stain had seeped into the wood, still glistening as though it were fresh. “She was here. Not long ago.”

Guess not.

Dean scanned the room, jaw tightening. “Yeah. And she wasn’t alone.”

A rustling outside had them both tensing, weapons raised. The wind picked up and seemed to howl louder, and louder. Crows cawed annoyingly and leaves started to fall by the dozen.

Then, a figure stumbled into the clearing.

Marjorie.

She was a mess—her coat torn, a deep gash along her temple, blood smeared across her hands. A large, deep red spot covered more than half her torso. She clutched her side, barely standing.

“Well, what do we have here?” She laughed weakly, a wheeze following. She could feel the pull of her magic, twisting and grinding inside her, reminding her of the weight she was carrying from all those years ago.

Her eyes met Dean’s first, flickering with something unreadable. Hope? Sadness? Fear? He didn’t have the chance to figure it out. 

Stars flooded her vision and for a second, she thought it was just the night sky. Her eyes flashed blue; not the normal pale either of the brothers had seen, but a brilliant, electric color. Not exactly human. Taking in a deep breath, she collapsed.

Sam was there in an instant, gripping the back of her knees and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, lifting her off the moist ground. Her head lolled to the side, her breathing sporadic. Her arms hung loosely at her sides; she looked dead. 

“So much for staying gone,” Dean spoke, his voice faltering.

****

Marjorie woke slowly, her body aching as she stirred. The motel ceiling swam into view, yellowed with age, the faint hum of a neon light buzzing somewhere in the room. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air.

She wasn’t home.

That realization hit first. Then came the memory—the attack, the fire, the desperate escape through the woods. And then… them.

Her fingers curled into the blanket draped over her. It was warm, kinda itchy, but warm nonetheless. She sat up on her forearms weakly, eyes squinting at the bright light. 

“You’re awake.”

Sam’s voice, calm and steady.

She turned her head, finding him sitting nearby, a book open on his lap. His expression was one of quiet relief. Dean, on the other hand, leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching her with the careful detachment of someone who wasn’t sure whether she was a friend or an enemy.

Her eyes moved between them, and she exhaled, pushing herself up despite the dull throb in her ribs.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Her voice came out hoarse, but there was no bite to it—just weariness.

Sam shut the book, resting his elbows on his knees. “You were hurt. We didn’t exactly have a choice.”

Marjorie pressed her lips together. She should’ve been grateful. Maybe a part of her was. But another part—the part that had spent years keeping hunters at arm’s length—was screaming at her that this was a mistake.

“Not my first rodeo.”

Dean pushed off the wall. “Not to be ungrateful or anything, but you mind telling us why something decided to turn your cabin into kindling?”

Marjorie held his gaze for a beat. He wasn’t being cruel—just direct. That was how he’d been when they worked together months ago. Business first, trust second.

She sighed, reaching up to touch the bandage at her temple. “It’s complicated.” Ha. 

Dean gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well, so’s everything in our line of work.”

Sam shot him a look before turning back to her. “We’re not here to get in your way. But we need to know what’s going on. You’re in danger.”

Marjorie looked away. So are you.

But she didn’t say it.

Instead, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, testing her strength. “You saved my life. I appreciate that. But I don’t need your help. I’m fine on my own.”

Dean scoffed. “You sure about that? Because from where we were standing, it looked like you barely made it out.”

Marjorie met his eyes again. There was no malice in her expression, just quiet resolve. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

Sam listened to she and Dean go back and forth. Dean wasn’t backing down, Marjorie didn’t seem the type to do so either. But he also sense the tension, the underlying panic in her words. Whatever was after her, it was bad. 

He leaned forward. “Maybe. But whatever’s after you isn’t going to stop.” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, seriously. I should just go home.”

“How you gonna do that?” 

“Astral projection. I’ll project my soul to my cabin, then I’ll manifest my physical body there.” She said openly as if it were common knowledge. 

“Nice try, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.” Dean glanced down to her wrist. Around it sat a large iron chain, to the naked eye it would’ve just been a bracelet.

She sighed, rubbing her face. She hated being backed into a corner, having people in her space, relying on anyone. But they weren’t wrong.

She had spent years keeping her past buried, hoping it would stay that way. But the past had found her. And now, she wasn’t the only one caught in its wake.

Marjorie stood by the motel window, arms rubbing at her collarbones, trying to sooth herself. Blood pooled in her mouth, but this time it was her own doing. The night felt too still.

“You’re both really stupid. I mean really stupid.” She didn’t look at either of them. 

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, cleaning a knife. Sam was flipping through their father’s journal, scanning for anything useful.

“So,” Dean said, breaking the silence, “what exactly are we dealing with?”

“It’s not a demon. Not a spirit. Nothing you two would know anything about.”

She didn’t mean to sound angry, she was just scared. It was the truth, they could say they wanted to help, but this thing was way above their pay grade. 

Dean raised a brow. “Then what is it?”

Marjorie hesitated. She didn’t like explaining things to hunters—especially when she knew how quickly they turned on people like her. But they had saved her. And if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to face this alone.

“Something old,” she finally admitted. “Something that was locked away a long time ago.”

Dean frowned. “And let me guess—you had something to do with that?”

Marjorie didn’t answer. Dean exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Great. Just great.”

Sam ignored him, still focused on the journal. “If you sealed it away before, can we do it again?”

Marjorie turned from the window, her fingers tightening around her shoulders, hugging herself. “Maybe. But last time, I barely survived. I’m not sure I can muster up that kind of juice again, I mean this was like, a reealllyyy long time ago.”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam before leaning forward slightly. “So why’s it after you now?”

She huffed a breath through her nose. “Because I was the one who put it away.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “Fantastic.”

Sam sat up. “Then we need to find a way to stop it before it gets to you again.” Marjorie hesitated. She had spent years avoiding hunters, avoiding people who might see her as a threat. But these two—they weren’t what she expected.

She let out a slow breath. “Alright,” she said softly. “We do this together. But you listen to me, I mean it. I’m not getting your blood on my hands.”

She rubbed her wrist, the iron starting to burn a bit. She hated the burning. 

Dean smirked. “See? Was that so hard?”

Marjorie gave him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. She had a feeling this was only the beginning.

As the night wore on, Marjorie found herself watching the brothers.

Sam was the easier one to read—thoughtful, curious, the type to look for answers before making judgments. He was the one who wanted to trust her.

Dean, on the other hand, was harder. Not cruel, not even hostile—just wary. Like he was waiting for her to prove him right. 

She couldn’t blame him. He had no reason to trust her, sure they worked together, once, but that was months ago and he killed her kind probably weekly.

“You worked with our dad,” Sam blurted suddenly, breaking her thoughts.

Winchester. John Winchester. How did she not connect this earlier?

Marjorie blinked, caught off guard. “A long time ago.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He didn’t exactly sing your praises.”

Marjorie let out a quiet laugh. “No, I imagine he wouldn’t.”

Sam sat up. “He wrote that you saved his life.”

“It was complicated.” 

Dean studied her. “Everything about you seems to be.”

She didn’t argue. “Yeah.” She laughed sadly. “I guess it is. 

Sam, ever patient, proved further. “What happened back then?”

Marjorie hesitated. “Your dad was stubborn. Thought he didn’t need help. But he was up against something he didn’t understand. Just like you two right now. ”

Dean huffed. “That sounds about right.”

She gave him a small, tired smile. “He was a good hunter. But he was also reckless.”

Dean’s smirk faded slightly.

Sam took a breath. “So why did you help him?”

Marjorie looked at him, then at Dean. Her answer was simple.

“Because he needed it. He didn't know about me, though. Just thought I was a hunter.” He believed her. She had helped him when he needed it. 

For a moment, neither brother spoke. Then, to her surprise, Dean nodded—just a little.

Sam sat back, thoughtful. “Guess it’s our turn to return the favor.”

Marjorie wasn’t sure what to say to that. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t fighting alone. And as much as that terrified her—

Some part of her was relieved.

[aristaspark]

Brooklynn doesn't hold an ounce of responsibilty in Yasammy's break up

Chaos Theory : Season 3 Part 7

I saw quite a few posts talking about how Brooklynn is going to feel guilty because Yasammy broke up because of her. And while I absolutely think she's going to feel guilty because that's just who she is, those who think that she has any responsability in their break up really didn't think the whole thing through.

Brooklynn is merely a pretext that made both Yaz and Sammy realize just how disfonctional their relationship had become, and it was disfonctional even before Brooklynn died, as made evident by the things they talked about when they broke up.

Sammy resents Yasmina because she needed space and took it, but too much space and for too long to Sammy's liking. And Yasmina was very clearly taken aback by the way Sammy completely shut down her family over their disagreement regarding the ranch. From the way Yaz is talking about it, it seems Sammy is the one who cut all ties with them because they wouldn't agree with her, and despite thinking that Sammy was right about the inital disagreement, Yasmina can't wrap her head around why she would do that. Sammy suffers because she's no longer with her family, but it appears it was HER choice, not theirs.

I like Yasammy and I absolutely think they will get back together, but it's clear they need to sort out their sh*t seperately before they do.

The way they are right now, they are not right for each other. They needed to break up and if it hadn't been Brooklynn, another subject would have come up that would have led to the same conclusion.

One can't just shrug their problems under the rug and expect that they will stay hidden there forever. That's what they did after season 1. They were so happy to see each other again (and frankly, they found themselves in a life or dead situation AGAIN so there was no time for romantic drama) that they just put aside their problems, but one can only do that for so long. It was only a matter of time before their issues caught up to them.

I don't know if you noticed, but when they broke up, while the argument initially was about Brooklynn, it almost immediately shifted to other things.

Brooklynn is like Sammy's family, or like the distance Yasmina took from Sammy : yet another subject that made the two realize that they were no longer on the same page, which is the sole reason for their break up.

They didn't understand each other and I think that they didn't know if they loved the person they only now realized the other had become.

I honestly think that at the moment, they didn't.

Especially Yasmina. She seemed really taken aback by how "excessive" Sammy's reactions were, like she couldn't wrap her head around it.

I think Sammy needs to learn that the world isn't black or white, that it's not all or nothing. In camp cretaceous, her family and her friends were the best thing ever to her. They were perfect, they could do no wrong, family was like this untouchable concept to her, it was everything. But now she went to the other extreme. She realized that they didn't live up to the pedestal she had herself put them on, and she couldn't accept it, same with Brooklynn. So rather than accept that family wasn't this magical, perfect thing, she rejected it altogether.

I think that for Yasammy to work, Sammy first needs to find a middle ground, and that Brooklynn coming back to the group will allow that. Because she will have to face the harsh reality: Brooklynn isn't perfect, but that doesn't make her someone undeserving of a second chance. Brooklynn is allowed to be flawed. She is far from perfect, but she didn't have bad intentions, she simply made the wrong choices and let herself be swayed by her worst instincts. And you know who else is guilty of doing that? Sammy.

Don't get me wrong, Yasmina is ALSO at fault. She should have tried to fix their problems instead of running away, because it only made things worse for them. She served Sammy a reason to resent her on a silver plate. She's the one who allowed things to get to a point of almost no-return instead of trying to communicate with Sammy.

So yeah, impeccable writing and stop putting the blame on poor Brooklynn. Is she responsible for the 6th months rift between Kenji and Darius? YES. Is she responsible for Yaz and Sammy breaking up? NO. They broke up because they were already disfunctional, Brooklynn only happened to be the one ordeal that finished to pull them apart.

[callmearcturus]

Paradise Killer is 6 dollars on Steam until May 16 and I am here to hard sell you all on it because it's one of the best games I've ever played.

I'm gonna go beyond giving you a bunch of punchy keywords and telling you it's queer as hell and making meme-y jokes, and I'm going to actually tell you what this game is.

So top-level, WHAT IS PARADISE KILLER?

Mechanically, Paradise Killer is an open-world murder mystery. There is zero combat but a lot of exploration of a very unique location. The majority of your time is going to be walking about Paradise 24, looking for people to discuss the case with and for clues that are scattered around the world.

One of the most interesting concepts in Paradise Killer that is both mechanical and narrative is deciding What Is Your Truth? What Is A Truth And What Is A Fact? From the moment you start the game proper, you can turn 180 degrees and begin the trial and decide who the killer is, before talking to anyone about the case.

For example, getting into the actual crime scene takes a lot of puzzle solving to unlock the sealed room where the victims were killed. But maybe instead of examining the crime scene, you talk to everyone on the island and think you have a good idea of what happened.

Meaning: It is perfectly valid to decide you have the answer to the mystery and just go complete the trial whenever you personally are ready. YOU decide when this ends.

Which frankly I think is a cool-as-fuck concept. Also, I fully believe if three different people find EVERY CLUE and talk to EVERY SUSPECT and hear EVERY PIECE OF EVIDENCE.... they might decide on three different truths entirely. And THAT to me is ingenious mechanical design I have not seen anywhere else in a video game.

Okay let's stop burying the lede and talk about the world of Paradise Killer.

The non-batshit version:

Paradise Killer takes place on a big, beautiful island, the 24th Paradise. The architecture is a delightful mix of black obsidian obelisks, brutalist monuments, opal crystals to slumbering alien gods, garden paths, luxury yachts, and a whole lot of gold and neon.

Neo-occultist urban residential vaporwave-core. If you are like me, you will be taking a lot of screenshots. My wallpaper on my computer is Paradise Killer.

Your interactions with the cast are done in visual novel-style, though I feel I have to shout out this isn't your stock Ren'py UI experience. Every single aspect of the way the game looks compounds the vibes even further.

And the characters are infuckingcredible.

(Notice the different font? This game has A FUCKTON OF ACCESSIBILITY OPTIONS, including dyslexic font options.)

Sammy Day Break, born under the sign of Shadow Zero, is the local distillery and bartender for the Syndicate. Talk to him about what's unique about the whiskey he's made on Paradise 24, or about the good old days of the Syndicate.

Is Doctor Doom Jazz, born under the sign of Cosmic Deceit, really that carefree about what happened? Is his willingness to rekindle his fling with Lady Love Dies just a diversion to hide something? Well, he's one of the most cooperative witnesses on the Island.

Crimson Acid has been through a helluva lot since the last time she saw Love Dies. Blessed by the gods with her stunning rack (of horns! OF HORNS!), she's become quite the idol now. So why is she also an information broker? And can you figure out what her true feelings for Love Dies are?

Between all of these conversations, you can explore the island and collect RELICS and BLOOD CRYSTALS (the local currency) and CITY POP SONGS.

Okay so the Slightly Batshit Version:

Shinji: The Syndicate worships alien gods who want to drown the world in war and blood. Lady Love Dies: I don't see how that makes us the bad guys.

You are LADY LOVE DIES, born under the sign KISS ME TO THE MOON, the INVESTIGATION FREAK. She was exiled to the Idle Lands several cycles ago for falling prey to the seduction of the god Damned Harmony and endangering the entire Syndicate. Only now, with the death of the Council on the eve of Paradise 25, is Love Dies summoned back to solve the murder.

The Syndicate are a group of functionally immortal humans from all across history who are trying to create the perfect bubble of reality, their utopic Paradise where they can safely revive their dead gods. They were granted many powers and boons by their first god, Silent Goat, and hope through rescuing more gods they will grow in power.

How do you create a bubble of reality to do all this totally ethical shit? Easy! You abduct a bunch of normie humans to live on your island to use as a mass sacrifice to generate energy to fuel the creation of each Paradise. If only the outsiders would stop getting in the way!

Paradise Killer's world is delightfully out of its goddamn mind and half of the fun of the game is just picking up little nuggets of information about each member of the Syndicate, the gods, why each Paradise failed (there was an outbreak of vampirism that took out like three of the Paradises???), and just the way this universe works.

Okay this post is already too long but I'm begging you all to give Paradise Killer a chance. It's gorgeous, it's funny, it's mechanically really interesting, it's chill as hell, it has an incredible soundtrack,

and you should try it.

I'LL SEE YOU IN A PERFECT 25 . . .

[blueskytum]

FOR THE LAST TIME [🩸]

[CANON] Stack/ Black!Reader

[TAGS] Slight angst, timejump, no use of Y/N, story uses you/your pronouns, vampire!stack.

Stack coming to see you and Sammie for the last time. You and Sammie were seated next together, both of you lost in a train of thought. The silence didn't need to explain anything as it had already spoken enough. You brought the glass in your hand up to your lips, taking a sip from it. The alcohol burns your throat as you swallowed it down. The quiet had last for longer than expected until you picked up on the sound of the doors opening and closing.

Sammie's head was the first to turn towards the door as a familiar face enters the bar, eyes covered with shades and more modernly dressed to blend in. It wasn't hard to tell who it was, you could already feel it. Stack sits down beside you, ordering the same drink you and Sammie were sipping on."Hey."

You don't spare him a glance just yet as memories from that night came flooding back to you. It was the best night you had ever lived. The only time you could escape your burdens and stress of dealing with the world. You remembered the same day you had first seen the twins after years of them being gone. But even with Stack being with Mary-who he loved and cared for-the feelings you had for Stack weren't even comparable to what he felt for you now.

You're still as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you; your laughter echoing in his ears as you danced the night away. Stack didn't have the time to tell you how he truly felt. He was still dealing with what him and Mary were going through. But as you can see, it didn't go through accordingly. There were still some strong feelings between them, you could tell.

It triggered an urge to reach out to you but Stack resisted. His brother made him promise to leave you and Sammie alone so you both could still live out your lives. He sensed your time was time was coming near and offered you and Sammie a chance for him to change you.

"I could change you." You shake your head. At this age? You had already seen and been through enough. To live forever while everyone else died around you? Doesn't sound as enticing as it was said to be. To live forever with the knowledge that you would never see the sun again, nope.

"Nah, I think we're both tired of this place." You gestured towards Sammie who had also declined. Stack had at least hoped you'd considered it but even he knows that that would be your final answer. There was nothing that was going to change your mind. You were still that same persistent girl. It was hard to change your mind.

"I've seen enough. Lived through it and seen it all. There's nothing else left for me here."

No other words needed to be said as Stack and Mary had prepared to leave for the last and final time you'd ever see them. The three of you had reflected on that night where you felt free, a heavy burden lifted from your shoulders for a couple of hours. That night was the best night you'd ever lived.

"Well then..."

"Take care, Little Sammie." Mary had also acknowledges you with a nod as she leaves the bar with Stack's arms wrapped around her shoulder. Stack gives you a long, final glance as if he was preserving you in his memory.

[altered-corp]

The more I watch Sinners, the more sympathy I have for Grace. I always understood her point of view, but I still never liked how she invited the vampires in. I still don't. But I just feel for her the more I watch it.

I used to see the scene where she called out Smoke being a solider as goating him on. Trying to anger him into acting how she thought they should. But after this recent watch, she doesn't sound malicious. Grace was hardly friendly with the twins. The twins are Bo's friends (maybe Smoke more than Stack just from what we see). So Grace not using a more sympathetic way to try to get through to Smoke, make sense.

She starts off, with Smoke, by appealing to his nature of violence. Just a general "we need a plan, and we need it now." Which is why Smoke asked for a minute to think. Just a second ago, Stack almost got him to go outside. He's got more on his mind than just the vampires.

But grace doesn't have a minute. In her mind, Remmick was probably sending someone to go to Lisa as they spoke. So she pushes harder. "Aren't you a solider?" Smoke stands. He likely took it as a jab, but I don't think it was. I think Grace's words came out more harsh than she intended. So she explains further, "didn't you just shoot two men for touching your truck?"

They have Stack. They have Bo. They say they're going after Lisa. Smoke has acted quicker in less dire situations. Why isn't he acting now? She's near tears. She's trying to get them to understand that even though the people in the juke joint are the primary targets, they're only the targets for the night. Sure when tomorrow comes, Lisa may be okay. But what about the others?

Perline says they just gotta survive the night. And then what? Just because the vampires are gone in the day time, doesn't mean they won't be back when the sun sets. These are people of the community. We're else would they go for shelter if not their own homes? Grace even says "our loved ones." "Turn our family into monsters." She's not just thinking about Lisa, here. She's seeing the bigger picture. And the bigger picture shows that if these vampires don't die tonight, they're going to have a bigger problem on they're hands.

I still hate how she let them in. But when being taunted by the vampires and held down by the humans, with the only thought in her head being, "I have to save my daughter." I get it. It looks like she was going to go out herself before Smoke and Annie held her back. So she kinda had no choice at that point. And while I hate how she killed Bo and immediately died herself, that also makes sense. Bo is the only one who would have a 100% success of getting to Lisa. And given the lore, she had to be the one to set his soul free. She's righting her wrong. She is the one who sent him out there.

On another, smaller topic, I still hate Mary. I know there's dept to her character and why she's there, but I simply hate that she's white and with a black man. Ever since I saw the trailer, I was upset. I was still unsure what the movie was about, so I really wanted to see it to know why she was there at all. (There were so many black people, so I was hoping for black love. What's this white girl doing on my screen? Was pretty much my first thought when seeing her).

The main thing I don't like, is how she treats Sammy. Which, to me at least, shows how she treats black people in general.

She calls Sammy "boy" twice, and they're both derogatory. The first time she isn't even looking at him, just using him as a way to talk to Stack.

The second time she's just straight up rude. "Boy if you don't get the fuck out my face." I get people love the line, I like it too, it's fun to say. But it was a mean line. Intentionally so.

But the second she realizes who Sammie is, he goes from, some black boy to Little Sammie. And that's what pisses me off. Now that Mary knows this boy has ties to her and her family, she's nice, supportive. When before she didn't give two shits about him.

I will say that I love how she acts with Sammie. I don't really like the actress, but the way she portrays this adoring, loving figure is really nice. Her smile when Sammie gets up to perform and her, "take care, little Sammie" when she sees him again, are filled with such love, it actually makes me sick. She does care for him. But only because of who he is.

She never would've acted this way to any other black person she didn't have connections to. It's only through his associations does Sammie get the nice Mary. And I just really hate that that.

[silverthelovebug]

Okay, final theory on what I think we know Sammy is going through right now.

The synopsis on Netflix says “Sammy’s Ranch”. That would lead one to assume that Sammy had purchased her own ranch, right? However, that conflicts with what we know about Sammy in Camp Cretaceous.

She agrees to go to Isla Nublar as a spy for Mantah Corp. in order to pardon her family on their debts and so they don’t lose the farm that has been in her family for generations. Sammy is explicitly shown to “do whatever it takes” for her family, even if that means putting her life in danger. I just don’t believe she would leave her family and the ranch to start her own life when she fought so hard to protect it and its legacy.

Especially when we see how adverse Sammy is to change after Yaz moved out and Brooklyn died.

Now, what I believe happened is that the Mantah Corp. Investigation led to the Gutierrez Cattle Ranch being left in jeopardy — but we also know that Kenji was funding Mantah Corp. Island for a long time as well — so there’s the possibility that he could pay off the debts on her family’s farm.

Again, we don’t know what happened to the company when the island was no longer under the Kon’s possession outside of the dinosaurs being sold on the black market.

Where I’m going with this is that I believe Sammy inherited the farm, either from her family giving it to her or whatever strings Kenji had to pull — even buying it herself. Whatever the method, I don’t think it’s a new ranch, given the fact Sammy continues her tradition of sending care packages to the others, which we see at the end of Camp Cretaceous and from Ben mentioning it in Chaos Theory, so we can only assume the address of her ranch hasn’t changed in the years since we last saw her. She also brings up Bessie and her new calf, which we know Bessie was living on her family’s farm.

Sammy’s phrasing of “It’s only me around here” followed by mentioning her parents makes it seem she’s not used to living alone, or that the fact she’s living alone isn’t on purpose. It’d be weird to bring up your parents if you moved out. “Around here” also implies the ranch she is currently at, which would also be a weird thing to say if you, again, moved out. “Around here” could also mean the region or city as a whole, which would make it sound as if her family moved out of town and Sammy had stayed behind.

This is followed by her saying “We just don’t talk much anymore”

You could argue that she moved out and she’s not used to her parents not visiting her. It’s not like we see Darius or Ben question where her family is, but we also know that they haven’t visited Sammy in such a long time. Darius wasn’t even aware that her parents stopped talking to her. They were also preoccupied in warning Sammy that they were being hunted, which could’ve prevented them from bringing it up. In general, the Nublar Five seem to not keep up with each other that regularly after Brooklyn’s death.

Which means Sammy’s family cutting contact with her happened within those 14 months, in which she hadn’t told anyone (outside of maybe Yaz).

Now, we don’t know the reason why Sammy’s family stopped talking to her, but there are a few theories I’ve seen out there that I don’t believe to be the case:

Sammy going vegetarian. Outside of being a petty reason to cut all contact with someone, I’ve only seen this mentioned in a comment saying that it was featured in the cut storyboard of Episode 3. Seeing as it was cut, I don’t think it would be canon anymore, especially as we see Sammy eating a corn dog later in the season, and I doubt Bobby Nublar was offering vegan options.

Sammy bringing Bumpy to the ranch. While a likely reason, as it could get her family in trouble with the DPW, if her family wanted nothing more to do with dinosaurs, why did they offer their cattle to still be used as food for the dinosaurs on Mantah Corp. Island? Even then, would harboring a dinosaur be enough reason to stop seeing your daughter?*

Sammy being gay. I don’t think they would’ve let Yaz visit on multiple occasions at the end of Camp Cretaceous, nor let her move in with Sammy if they were homophobic or against their relationship. At least they wouldn’t hide their bigotry for 7 years just to cut all contact with Sammy in her 20’s on a random Tuesday.

(*A quick thing I want to bring up is Ben’s reaction to seeing Bumpy, he’s not surprised she’s on Sammy’s farm unlike Darius, who hadn’t been told due to keeping himself isolated in his cabin. Sammy even says “we” brought her here, meaning her and Ben. So Ben had to have known where Sammy lived and that the Mantah Corp. Investigation took place within those 14 months).

There’s evidence to support Sammy moved out, but there’s also evidence to support she’s still on her family’s farm.

Either way, it’s clear there is distance between her and her parents, both physically and emotionally, given we don’t see her living with them added with the several times she mentions they stopped talking.

Sammy could even be hiding parts of the truth to Darius and Ben and to us, as the audience. Even then, something else entirely could’ve happened between her and her family.

I guess we just have to wait until October :3

[keaganz]

The first person smut nearly broke my brain, ngl. If it sucks I'm sorry, but I can't promise next time will be any better. Ngl first person is not my forte.

Part1, part2, part3

Letters

Rating; Explicit 18+ MDI | Relationship; pre-Sam O'Brien/Gator Tillman| CW; still swearing and explicit smut| Tags; developing relationship, pen pals, letter writing, Roy Tillman's A+ parenting, he legally names his only child Gator that man is Trash, Gator's trauma about his name, Gator has Daddy issues, again Roy is Trash!, Accidental feminisation because Sam hasn't figured out he's Bi.

Gator steps out of his room, dressed in black jeans and a black button up and his hair neatly slicked back. He walks towards the kitchen hoping that Roy isn't home and he can eat his breakfast after another night shift in peace in front of the tv. His luck doesn't hold as he sees him getting himself a cup of coffee.

“Afternoon”

His eyes briefly dart towards unopened mail next to the coffee maker. A move that Roy tracks.

“Hmm, I heard you had a drug bust last night. There were shots fired”

“Yes sir. They came from Winnipeg, had to get border patrol and Mounties involved. I clipped a perp in the shoulder. He's in the hospital but in custody. I also clipped a perp in his leg, he's also in custody in hospital. One perp died on the scene and two are in the wind”

“The only good spick is a dead one, but hitting two of them is good start”

He preens a little and puffs out his chest at the praise.

“Thank you sir”

He takes Roy's silence as a dismissal and starts making his breakfast. His eyes keep darting to the mail. He's filled with a nervous and anxious energy. He was so sure he would not get a letter back after insulting him so blatantly and obviously. But it seems that his burgundy pen pal is interested.

“Any girls that you're talkin too? It's been what, two, three years since what's her name moved”

His jaw tights as he steadies himself. He was hoping to avoid talking about his romantic life. Roy loved holding his failed serious relationship over his head at any and every opportunity. Not that his track record was any better. Dottie had just disappeared in the middle of the night, she didn't even take her belongings. At least Kathy had told him to his face he was an abusive asshole and was leaving.

“Yes sir, a girl I met on a music message board. Her name is Sam..Samantha. She lives in Milwaukee, and is a daycare worker. She's 5 '3, burnet, brown eyes and has big tits. Kathy sir, that was two and a half years.”

“Hmmm. Why are you getting mail from that military pen pal organisation? I Didn't raise you to be the sentimental kind. I thought you knew it was just a fake pr stunt”

He watches him drink his coffee. Being the sole focus of Roy's gaze never fails to make him feel like he's a little kid, caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“ I don't know what happened sir, but my letter got sent out and I was matched with a deployed soldier. I explained that the letter was never meant to get sent but he asked to keep writing, just to shoot the shit”

Roy gives him a nod before leaving the kitchen with his coffee. He lets out a sigh and waits a few minutes before crossing the kitchen to grab the letter. He stuffs it in his back pocket for safe keeping. It isn't until he's on his break in the middle of his shift and he's sitting in his patrol car alone in a gas station parking lot that he dares to take out the crumpled letter and open it.

Just like the previous letter it holds a photo, well two this time. They are taken on a night out, off the same group of friends. He recognises the guy with the buzzcut from the previous picture, he's nearly a hundred percent sure that must be Sam. Otherwise he wouldn't be the only person in both sets of pictures.

“Fuck Sammy boy! The things I would let you do to me”

Baby,

Trust me you would definitely only be thinking about me as I pound into your sopping wet pussy. The only thought running through your mind will be your need to cum and how good my cock feels. I'd have you bent over the kitchen table, naked as the day you were born with your ass up high. One hand fisted tightly in your hair as I pres your face against the table. With my other hand I grip your hip so hard it will leave a nice bruise that will last days.

I'll unzip my pants and only pull out my dick. You don't deserve to get me naked. I order you not to move as I let go of your hair so I can grip myself tightly, so I can guide myself to slam into you in one go. I don't give you time to adjust to my girth as I grip your hips tightly with both hands as I start thrusting into you. I just keep thrusting into you as if you're just there for my pleasure, as I chase my own orgasam. Hearing you groaning my name as I praise you for being so good and staying still. It also makes you clench tightly around me, keeping me deep with you. Just as I'm about to cum I pull out until only my tip is buried in your vice like grip. I love the way you beg, plead and whine to let you cum. I slam back home as I cum, coating your insides with my seed. I take a minute to breathe before pulling out, watching my seed leaking out of your used hole. I give you ass a nice slap before I tuck myself back in and walk away leaving you leaking all over the table.

Yours truly,

Basic generic Sammy boy

He sits slumped over in his seat panting heavily. He's holding his spent cock in hand. He throws his head back, eyes clenched shut tightly.

“Shit! Basic bitch my ass!”

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Exile on Main St.

Welcome to “Ah, We’ve Entered the Shitty Campbell Relatives Portion of the Show: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s6e1: Exile on Main St.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

It’s been months now since Sammy got sucked down into Lucy’s cage and Dean is trying to settle into a normal life with Lisa and Ben, but those artsy black-and-white memories of hunting with Sam just won’t let him be. And then he thinks maybe something SUPERNATURAL is going on in his neighborhood, so he puts on his Hunter Hat and starts sniffing around. AND THEN Yellow Eyes sneaks up on him in his garage, but wait, it’s not really YE because it’s all hallucinations, or so Sammy tells him as he, too, pops up out of nowhere alive! and not in Hell! Turns out, he’s been back pretty much the entire time, but just hasn’t told Dean because he wanted his brother to have a chance at a normal life. Dean is, unshockingly, pissed and hurt and smad. Even more so when he learns that Bobby knew all along that Sam was back. But wait, there’s more! Sam has been hunting and has replaced his brother with other relatives: the Campbells, namely Gramps (who is also back from the dead for some reason) and some cousins. And they all suck. Like, they’re the worst. Anyway, so the hallucinations were caused by some djinn out for revenge from when Dean ganked one of their kind, so Dean moves Lisa and Ben to Bobby’s house while he, Sam, and their shitty relations go a-huntin’. Dean feels rusty and nearly makes a rookie mistake, but Sam wants him back in the game anyway, so Dean says bye to his attempt at normal life and together he and Sam get Season 6 rolling.

Mace:

black and white. so DRAMA

Lor:

AAALL THE DRAMA

Mace:

“IT WAS THE HEEEEAT OF THE MOMENT"

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

OMG his FACE

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"yeah, I'm good" uh HUH

Mace:

I mean, I wouldn’t mind waking up to that.

Lor:

CORRECT

WHY IS HE NOT A MECHANIC

Mace:

RIGHT?!

(because he’s a christ figure so must be a carpenter)

Lor:

(OMG YES)

I do love the cuts back and forth from this life to the other, though

Mace:

YES

Lor:

omg checking the locks with his nightcap then checking on Ben

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"believe me I know" HA!

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

god LOOK at him

Mace:

PEST CONTROL

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Mace:

THAT EPISODE

Lor:

his feet up on the RUNGS

HAAAAHAHAH

"you have no idea what's in some people's walls"

Mace:

adorable

correct, Dean, they do

Lor:

YEP

"who knew" LOLOL

that jacket looks adorable on him

Mace:

it does. but, I mean, all jackets on that dude

Lor:

yeah he's pretty much not capable of making anything look bad

Lor:

Lisa is not my fav but I do love that she can read him so well

NOT that that was terribly subtle

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

the windchimes are kinda creepy but really cool

Mace:

Agreed!

Sid, cool it

I think Sid has a lil crush

Lor:

seriously, Sid

"did you almost shoot a Yorkie?"

he's so squirmy

Mace:

HAHAHA

this feels like Dean is the Normal Guy in a cold open

Lor:

RIGHT?

I was JUST thinking that!

he looks so LITTLE

Mace:

HE DOES

WHY the inside of the arm, Sam. Just.. WHY

oh god the way he says Sammy

Lor:

RIGHT?

YAAAS

his dumb adorable tucked-in shirts ruffles him up a little

Mace:

right?! the tuck is just wrong on him

Lor:

"wait, weeks?" HIS VOICE OMG dies

Mace:

dick move, Sam

Lor:

right?

wrong, Sammo. he does deserve it and he does want it but not like that. no salad for you

Mace:

snork

Ugh. here comes gramps

gross

Lor:

right? Samuel bleeeeeee

"you have delicate features for a hunter" FUCK YOU, GWEN. he's perfect and you shut your mouth

Mace:

yeah she sucks

Lor:

I don't think third cousins would be in the same generation? [Ed. They would be. I looked at a CHART]

LYING LIARS

Mace:

Oh, I have no clue. I don’t understand that nonsense

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

"No more doornails coming out of those doors?" DEAN WINCHESTER I LOVE YOU AND YOUR IDIOLECT

Mace:

YES

Lor:

poor Lisa has moved houses like 8,000 times in 3 years

Mace:

right?

“dammit” HAHAHAHA

Lor:

RIGHT?

"if you're here, something's wrong" oh, Bobby

Mace:

yeah

Lor:

"TV's broken but there's plenty of Reader's Digest" 

Mace:

classy

“you knew?” hoo boy

Lor:

"don't touch the decor, okay? assume it's all loaded" I love him

he reminds me so much of some of my older male relatives

oooooof

come here, Dean, hon, you need a hug

Mace:

yep

Lor:

"but you were out, Dean" "do I look out to you?"

Mace:

“do I look out to you” oh, honey, that’s an entirely different conversation

Lor:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

"something always does"

ooof

Mace:

LIKE a dad? JUST ADMIT THAT HE’S THE FATHER

Lor:

RIGHT?!!!

Mace:

I mean, I know Dean isn’t in love with her. He’s already met Cas

Lor:

"leave it to the professionals" OH DUDE YOU JUST MADE SO MANY ENEMIES

CORRECT

"it's almost like I'm a professional"

Mace:

HAHAHAHA YAS

hit her, Dean. just hit her

Lor:

omg Samuel enjoys putting his younger relatives at each other's throats kicks him so hard

Mace:

YES

Lor:

okay, Sam, I love you, and we know what's up but FUCK OFF

"call me a soccer mom"

Mace:

(well, golf is dumb)

Lor:

(I mean, yes. also I don't buy that Dean plays it. he's in a softball league)

(and so is Sid. they don't play golf)

Mace:

(yep)

also, Samuel does NOT use words like exsanguinated

Lor:

What idiot let a vamp on the Mayflower?

HAAHAHAH NOPE

"maybe not the best time for golf"

Mace:

UGH

Lor:

I HATE HIM SO HARD

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

aaaand Dean has clocked the only dude worth talking to in this lot

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"you remember it?"

Mace:

OOOF

Lor:

right?

haaahahaha the way he goes over that fence

Mace:

meh, it's just sid

YES

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOL

Mace:

pretty hot

Lor:

YES

it's Sam with the steel chair!

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

I enjoy the implication that Dean is still so haunted by Azazel and is afraid he'll come for his wife and kid like he did to John

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

"I wouldn't even think to try" oooooof

Mace:

yeeeah

Lor:

oh man, the rejection of Baby

he should be SO suspicious

Mace:

he really should but he’s too busy being hurt

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

he does keep his yard nice though

Lor:

HAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

he is welcome to come work on mine any time he likes

Mace:

YAS

[nachosforfree]

you're correct!! it's Henry!!

this is. gonna require explaining Henry's weird ass family tree, so bear with me a minute.

to start off: Henry's biracial. he, effectively, has three dads - his birth father (died before he was born), his "dad" (Jen's father), and his stepdad (where he and Jen get the last name "Emily" from).

to give a brief rundown:

Henry's mom didn't like her husband (he sucked, trust me) and left him for Henry's bio dad.

Henry's bio dad, unfortunately, died a couple of months before he was born, leaving his mom without a lot of options but to return to her old husband.

Henry and Jen grow up around him for around twelve years before the guy gets arrested for almost killing someone in a bar fight.

enter their stepdad, and the rest is history.

Henry's mom and Jen both have red hair, and Jen has green eyes. both Jen and Henry have freckles.

now onto my attempt to describe Henry, or at least the parts that are relevant to this (i cannot describe appearances through words to save my life, so if something's worded weird, then that's why):

Henry skin is a lighter shade than Charlie or Sammy, but like. he's still Visibly a POC, if that makes sense.

Henry's hair is a really dark brown, but it has a very slight red tint to it that's practically unnoticeable unless the light hits it right.

as you can probably guess, He's Transmasc.

now, onto what happened:

Will and Henry slept together one night in mid-1974. i don't exactly know what William thought was going to happen, but maybe he was cocky enough to think "well, what are the odds anything's gonna happen? i'm sure it'll be fine"

fast forward a little while later and Surprise Surprise, Henry's Pregnant, And William's The Father.

after a little bit of panic and trying to figure out what to do, Henry comes up with a plan: whichever parent the baby visibly takes after more, that's who gets them.

Genetics Fucks Them Over - Elizabeth is born (Feb. 16th, 1975) and. she's white. there ain't no way in hell Henry could pass Liz off as his and Annabeth's child, no way in hell. so, who gets the baby? William.

Will just comes up with a story that oh, he just found her abandoned somewhere and took her in as his daughter. Claire, Henry, and Anna just help him keep up the lie (because it's that or Henry gets outed as a trans man, and guess what William's not gonna do). it hurt Henry, to some degree, to have to act like Liz wasn't also his baby, that he was just a family friend, but...well, he doesn't really have another Option that isn't significantly worse for him than this one.

now...why does William specifically say that Liz is adopted and not that she's his and Claire's biological child? two reasons! 1) Claire obviously hadn't been pregnant before this, so William couldn't have lied about that in the first place, and 2) Claire was a black woman. so in two different ways, William couldn't just say Liz was a child that he'd had with Claire; that lie would've fallen apart at the seams immediately.

and it works...for a few years. specifically, up until late 1979, when Liz is four.

Genetics Fucks Them Over 2: Electric Boogaloo - Liz gets older, and starts to Much More Obviously take after William. like, enough so to the point that William's "She's Adopted" lie starts to fall apart quick. William only has two real options: either out Henry, or keep his mouth shut and wait for things to blow over.

what he doesn't expect is someone coming in with the steel chair and giving him a secret third option.

enter Tammy Schmidt. she worked at the Diner, she had ginger hair, and her eyes were...more hazel than green, but it still worked. she even had some freckles! she claimed that she was Liz's mom, and...well, William just went with it. Henry was a lot less fine with having to go with it, for obvious reasons, but...well, he also didn't want to get outed. so his hands were kinda tied here.

so why'd she do this? well...there were some employees at the Diner who were Aware of things between Henry and Will, and some even knew Henry was trans, but they didn't really care enough to out either of them (and some really didn't want to, either). Tammy was one of them. she just told her bosses, after the wave of questions and backlash started coming to her, that they both owed her Big Time for this.

so yeah! it's...a long story, but there isn't really a Short way of explaining all that.

to summarize: Genetics Fucked William And Henry Over Really Bad, And It May Or May Not Have Been One Of The Plot Points That Would End Up Causing Things To Happen.

OHHHH VERY NEAT

I love when people have really fleshed out family trees and dynamics for the aftons and emilys❤️❤️

[archer-kacey]

On the Bendy books not being canon: this might be a good thing??? Because at least Adrienne Kress can keep doing what she’s doing without having to work around BATDR. With the ink clone concept (is everybody an ink clone? What actually did happen?) and Joey’s intentions for the cycle (from making living cartoons to torturing ink Henry?), it feels…unclear what is canon anymore. I mean BATIM is stated to be cannon but in what regards? The cycle happens but what about the audio logs? Are we even sure of who died and how anymore? There’s just a lot of things left open enough for the meatley to softly retcon things while not technically contradicting BATIM. And while BATIM is vague enough to fit BATDR’s changes…what about the books? What are we supposed to make of Joey “murders teens” Drew from the books being the same Joey in BATDR who’s being painted in a goodish light at the end of BATDR and in the archives? Hell, Tom’s characterization in BATIM has already been pointed out as inconsistent with the books.

It just strikes me that the meatley always told stories installment to installment, throwing out a flashy twist and vague storytelling. And this is coming from someone who likes BATDR. While Adrienne Kress, as a novelist, has to tell a complete and satisfying story within each book. And like you mentioned, a lot of what she gave us in those books were what people loved about the characters. At least those versions of those characters get to be preserved in someway?

I'll try to address as much of this as possible lol!

I have a lot of thoughts about this ask, and there are some points where I flat out disagree, but I do see where you're coming from! I do agree that the books not being canon leaves things more open-ended, which is a strength in some aspects and a weakness in others.

"...at least Adrienne Kress can keep doing what she’s doing without having to work around BATDR."

I agree in the sense that BATDR is messy. I don't think she had much trouble working around it, though? I mean, we see Wilson in Fade to Black, so I don't think she's afraid of bringing up BATDR.

"(is everybody an ink clone? What actually did happen?)"

Henry at the very least is an ink clone, expressly made for the purpose of Joey having a Henry-shaped stress ball to kill at his convenience (as stated in BATDR.)

If we look at the novels and games, there are three main ways to end up in Cartoon Hell: First, just be created there, like Ink Henry. Second, you can basically be teleported in via the Gent glasses, as shown in Fade to Black. Thirdly, you can just Die In Ink, like Audrey in BATDR. These technically don't contradict each other, but holy hell that's a lot of ways to end up on the wrong side of a Gent Pipe.

"Are we even sure of who died and how anymore?"

Yes, for the most part. We have letters from Allison (who also mentions Thomas), and Wally Franks. We also have confirmation that Henry left to go live with his wife. And we see Joey himself at the end of BATIM.

As for the rest of the cast, we have to think of Henry's Cycle as an imperfect reflection of real events.

The audio logs in particular do line up with things that really happened, and usually we can rely on them. Take Shawn, for example. In BATDR he mentions that he's leaving the studio. Notice that there's no coffin in BATIM with his name on it. In BATIM, Susie mentions that Joey has a proposition for her. Notice that she does have a coffin, and the outcome of her inferred death is...well, Alice Angel. (The details of how she and Sammy ended up in Cartoon Hell are a little fuzzy, but that's a whole other discussion entirely.)

"What are we supposed to make of Joey “murders teens” Drew from the books being the same Joey in BATDR who’s being painted in a goodish light at the end of BATDR and in the archives?"

Oh boy. If you want my opinion, BATDR really shits all over Joey Drew's victims, regardless of his kill count in the books.

Let's pretend the books don't exist for a minute. Joey still manipulated a woman with the end goal of getting her killed for his own selfish gain. He almost worked his best friend and business partner to death and kept him from seeing his wife for days on end. His accountant died in a horrible and unspecified manner on studio premises. Norman, Bertrum, and Lacie all died as a result of working at JDS as well. Not only did Joey kill real people, but he made an artificial world in which basically all creatures suffer. Don't even get me started on the Lost Ones in Chapter 4 (which include children, by the way.)

It's also confirmed by Grant in BATDR that Gent was "pouring in some funds", and while you could argue it's just for research without killing anyone...they still made the Ink Demon. Nobody's gonna sit here and tell me that A. the Ink Demon never escaped, and B. His kill count was 0. No way.

I get really sussed out at BATDR saying "Well, Joey kind of raised a kid so he's paid his just desserts!" In short, that's not a Bendy book issue, it's a BATDR issue.

"...a lot of what she (Adrienne) gave us in those books were what people loved about the characters."

I'm not gonna lie...I really wish she was a writer for the actual games. Lol.

[animangalover-writes]

So I had a dream about wincest(being obsessed with each other as always lol)

I was half asleep when I wrote this so bear with me

So I had this dream where some monster essentially got to sam and manipulated his world into his like ideal world. And his ideal world was him being a kid again with Dean taking care of him, just them in this little house. The same perfect day played over and over again, like a time loop. And somewhere outside this house is the real Dean, caught a time loop of his own, as he continously breaks into this little house to try to get to Sam and free him. But this monster always gets to him first and catches him off guard. It's like he doesn't remember the last time he was in the house, like it always feels like the first time setting foot in it, because the creature uses the same move over and over to kill him(but like, he doesn't really die, its more like this world is its own little pocket dimension and every time dean dies he wakes up outside of it again). And ever time, kid Sam hears something, but the monster/kid Dean tells him it's ok and they ignore it.

By the way, the monster in my dream is basically like this black-grey sentient goop(think Venom) that can morph itself into anyone it wants, and is hanging in weird strands all around the house that Sam doesn't notice. But dean does, and even though he tries to avoid stepping in it, it always catches his foot and essentially Webs his hands and gun in place, disarming him, then slams him against a glass mirror or a wall hard enough that it kills him.

Anyway, somewhere outside of this loop, Dean is vaguely aware that this monster always catches him with the same move, and the only reason he dies every time is because the surprise attack makes him too unsteady to shoot it, and catches him at a point where his footing is off, so he's easy to take down. But every time he enters the house again, he forgets what he learned, and it takes him down all over again. He admits to someone unseen that the reason it takes him down so easily/catches him off guard is because he's alone, aka Sam's not there to help him.

At some point, Sam starts becoming more aware that something is off, and that things are too perfect.

This is where the dream gets kind of fuzzy, but essentially Sam becomes aware enough and, still as a kid, sees adult dean walking through the house and calls out to him, confused. This time, Dean sees Sam and looks utterly relieved and says "Sammy..." like he's so happy to have found him. But this distraction causes the monster to catch him off guard again. It catches his foot and grabs his hands in its weird goo, but Sam is here now, and he sees this creature for the first time. So he yells out to Dean to move a certain way that gives him enough leverage to shoot the creature(this was mentioned as something dean always knew would help but always forgot when in the house).

Meanwhile, the monster actively tries to get into Sam's mind again and tell him, as young Dean, that everything will be ok so long as he let's him kill this intruder who's trying to hurt them. Finally it stops working on Sam and he becomes his real age again.

Some fight happens in between that I didn't really get to see, but the outcome was this: they managed to hurt the creature by working together, now that Dean wasn't alone, he doesn't die and actually gets some good shots in. At some point, Sam rushes the thing and the only reason it doesn't hurt him is because it grew some sort of attachment to him during the whole thing, and so he's the only one that it would let kill it(feels like a metaphor for Sam and Dean's real codependent obsessive relationship).

Anyway I don't remember much after this so that's basically all I have, so yeah.(also ignore any typos, I didn't edit this. I just woke up)