I GOT INSPIRED AGAIN

Ya girl got her WKM shirt in the mail today. Surprise! It’s my face. :)

(feat. my bed, my various posters, and my Markiplier Pjorts)

How He Moves (drabble)

Pairing: None

Rating: PG for angst

You caught yourself staring sometimes, as he worked. His back would tense up all funny if he got frustrated, his shoulders going all high and rigid. If he was in a really good mood, he'd be almost liquid, the way his shoulders' movements flowed smoothly across them, down his rail thin arms, into his wrists, then through his long, nimble fingers. Like a trickle of water, fast and exciting but not disconnected, however disconnected his thoughts were. If he were really excited, he was a blur, arms and hands and fingers everywhere, legs like jelly, sometimes even up on the console, helping him steer his beautiful ship. The positions he contorted himself into to fly this old girl! He was almost an acrobat.

But if he was sad...oh, if he was sad, and he too often was. His shoulders would fall. Not hunch forward comically, but fall, defeated. His movements became slow, mechanical, precise, emotionless. He'd stand without swaying, without movement that wasn't completely necessary, an unnatural stillness. He'd stroke the console, absently, forlornly, as if it were the only thing he had left in the entire universe. In some ways, you supposed, it was.

I can get a doodle of it done tonight maybe!

*squeeeeeeeeee*

“May.”

She nearly had a heart attack, squeaking in the most undignified way possible as she spun around, soap suds covered frying pan flinging bubbles onto the black vest of the Asgardian Lord of Chaos.

Loki frowned and swiped the bubbles away. “I suppose I startled you. My apologies.”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I haven’t heard from the boy in a week and three days. This is...unusual. I merely wanted to be sure that the paultry team my brother seems to have stumbled into was not once again down a teammate.”

“Jesus, Loki,” May sighed, finally putting the pan back in the sink and wiping her hands, “you know you can just say you wanted to check up on Pete, right? Like, I’m not gonna judge you for that, by all means, come ask about him if you’re worried.”

“I am not-”

“Whatever dude.” She smirked slightly at the indignant twitch of Loki’s mouth. “Pete’s fine. Finals time in school, he hasn’t really had time to do anything but study and sleep, and you can guess which one he does more than the other.”

Loki nodded slowly. “Well. That is good to know. I shall be on my way then.”

As he lifted his hand, possibly to gesture grandly as he was fond of doing before he left, May took a step forward. “Actually, wait a second?”

He froze, studying her, and she suddenly found the floor very interesting.

“I just wanted...y’know, you two have been hanging out a lot recently...and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried at first, because of course I’m gonna be worried when my nephew’s hanging out with literally the god of mischief, but...” She managed to look up. “I just wanted to say...thanks. Pete, he doesn’t have a lot of people to look up to, but between you and Mr. Stark...Just...Thanks. For everything.”

He was silent for a long moment. Neither of them moved. Then, finally...

“There is no need to thank me. If anything, I...” He paused, and shook his head. “There is no need to thank me.”

And he was gone.

As she turned back to the sink, May thought that her life could never get stranger than when Pete brought new people into it. Especially when those people are weird, practically immortal gods who feel like they have to thank you for keeping them calm but can’t.

She wondered if she ought to invite him for dinner sometime. Did Loki like subs?

Scenes I need...

Peter Parker: -on meeting Loki, offers his hand- Hi, I’m Peter!

Loki: -shakes his hand- Loki of Asgard.

Peter: Aren’t you like…a bad guy?

Loki: It varies from moment to moment.

Peter: So like…on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst evil imaginable, like…killing puppies, and one being I’ll spit on your hotdog…where are you right now?

Loki: …maybe a three?

Peter: Cool. Lemme know if it gets above a six.

Loki: -thinking- I like him.

Not normally an edits kind of gal, but I can do a decent old time photo, and I loved the video, so why not?

Oh my god, this is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. You’ve somehow managed to perfectly blend to absolutely amazing universes and you’ve done it seamlessly. I would gladly read this as a miniseries or one-off book.

AJ Crowley and Harry Potter bump into each other in public:

Harry Potter: Oops, sorry about that.

Crowley: No, it was my fault, don’t worry about it.

Public: *stares at the two men making strange hissing noises at each other*

Both: Wait…

Last Words. (Dean Imagine)

(A/N: THIS IS AN END OF S11 FIC. Technically, the oneshot itself has no spoilers...I think. But just so you understand the context, this takes place the night before the end of the season finale. I apologize in advance for the ensuing tears.)

Pairing: Dean/reader

Rating: PG13 for sadness

Dean sat down on his bed, laptop open in front of him, a blank document staring back expectantly. He sipped his beer, and set it on the nightstand, sighing heavily.

She would find it after everything was over. He'd print it up, seal it in an envelope, give it to Cas, ask him to give it to her when he was gone. When they were safe.

"Let's get this over with."

Dear (Y/N),

He deleted it.

(Y/N),

He deleted it.

To my girl.

Here we are again. End of the line. The world's going out tomorrow unless the Winchesters step up, right? Tomorrow night, I'll probably be dead, and in the Void.

How many times have we been here? Too many. This time, though, I'm pretty certain I'm not getting out of it. This time, it really is the end of the line. Everybody off.

So I thought I should leave something behind. Kind of a will, but not really because legally I don't exist anymore. Sort of a...goodbye. You know I'm not good at them. Soppy crap has never been my thing, but this time...I don't know. It just feels right to go out properly.

Sammy gets my Baby. It's always been that way. Don't let him chuck my music, though, doll. Those cassettes are classics and really valuable, trust me.

You and him keep on at the Batcave. Don't move, you won't be safe if you do. You know that, though. Also, don't let them touch my room, okay? No one but you gets in, babe, promise me. Everyone else would touch my stuff and move it and mess it up, and I swear if you guys break anything I'll pull my damn self out of the void to haunt your asses.

Watch out for Sammy for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And tell him to get a haircut.

Watch out for Cas. Don't let him do anything stupid either. But still mess with him sometimes, too. He's still got a stick up his ass.

Take care of yourself. Move on. Find someone who's actually worth your time now that you're not stuck with me. Just don't be alone, okay? No one should be alone. And don't do anything stupid, either. Don't try to bring me back. I don't want that.

I love you so much, and I don't say it as much as I should. Tell Sam and Cas I love them too, because God knows...well, you know what I mean...I can't say it to their faces. Too much of a chick flick moment. Soppy crap.

But I do love you. All of you. And I hope that I can't miss you in the void, because I know I will if I can. I'll miss you so damn bad.There's no way in hell I can thank any of you enough, or tell you how much you mean to me.

Tell Sammy I'm proud of him, and I'm sorry he never got that normal life he wanted. Tell him he can stop hunting now, if he can find a way out. He deserves that much. Tell him I'm sorry I dragged him back into that crap, and I'm sorry he was born into it all, and I wish more than anything that we'd gotten normal lives dealt to us. But tell him I'm so proud to call him my brother, and I loved every minute we got together.

Tell Cas thank you, for everything he's done, and that I'm so sorry that I brought him down with me. Tell him he's the best friend I ever had, and I didn't deserve anything he did for me. Tell him I'm so damn proud of him, and I hope he can patch things up with Claire, and with at least some of the God squad. Tell him that to me, he's always been a brother. Tell him he's family, and he's earned that place, for what it's worth.

You are so beautiful, and so wonderful, and so strong. I never deserved you, and I don't know why you stayed with me, but I am so damn glad that you did. Thank you for making these last few years so real, and so great, for staying with me through literal hell and high water, for every kiss and every touch and every word you ever said to me. Thank you for being alive and for being mine. Thank you for letting me be yours because you deserved so much better than this washed-up idiotic alcoholic mess.

I love you, (Y/N). My girl. My babe, my doll, my honey, my cherry pie. I love you.

Goodbye.

Dean Winchester.

So I hear we’ve got a new teaser image....

What are you up to, Sean?

Who Killed Markiplier? Mini Update 2.

Alright I’ve just been over to whokilledmarkiplier.com, and here’s the newest evidence.

-There’s another Jims video, in which they’re running around on the balcony, keeping an eye on the Detective, who’s strolling around, looking at his gun, then crying over his old partners. He gets spooked by something and moves out of our line of sight. The Jims are completely oblivious. (Also, question, is everyone in their family named Jim? If so, I love that.) I really don’t think there’s a lot of significance in this one, but I wasn’t watching too closely, so I could be wrong.

-There’s a soundbite with a heavy rumbling in the background, the sound of someone opening and then closing a squeaky door, the sound of a lighter being lit, something catching on fire, and then someone writing with what sounds to me like a quill (I write with them occasionally, and the scratching and flicking noises sound similar) or a pencil. What were they writing? What did they light on fire? And who is it we’re listening to? I think it could be Mark, trying to get a message to someone in the middle of the night, but that’s pure speculation, I have no evidence to back it up.

Sometimes some of the softer egos will steal the heated blankets if they aren’t feeling well or the power goes out during winter

I have a feeling that Wilford casually steals them all the time and buys him a new one every month or so to replace the ones he takes. lol