Ok So Reunion When

Sam: [uses his psychic demon blood powers to tune into Dean’s thoughts just in case Dean is silently talking shit]

Dean’s thoughts:

Sam: what the fuck

Ch👏

Story time:

In middle school biology, we did an experiment. We were given yams, which we would sprout in cups of water. We then had to make hypotheses about how the yams would grow, based on descriptions of yam plants in our books, and make notes of our observations as they grew.

Here’s what was supposed to happen: we were supposed to see that the actual growth of the plant did not resemble our hypotheses. We were then supposed to figure out that these were, in fact, sweet potatoes.

What actually happened was that every single student in every single class lied in their notes so that their observations perfectly matched their hypotheses. See, everyone assumed the mismatch meant they had done something wrong in the process of growing the plant or that they had misunderstood the dichotomous key or the plant identification terminology. And, thanks to the wonders of a public school education, everyone assumed the wrong results would get us a failing grade. We were trying to pass. We didn’t want to get bitched out by the teacher. Curiosity, learning, science - that had nothing to do with why we were sitting in that classroom. So we all lied.

The teacher was furious. She tried to fail every student, but the administration stepped in and told her she wasn’t allowed to because a 100% fail rate is recognized as a failure of the teacher, not the class. It wasn’t even her fault, really, though her being a notorious hard-ass didn’t help. It was a failure of the entire educational system.

So whenever I see crap like Elizabeth Holmes’s blood test scam or pharmaceutical trials which are unable to be replicated or industry-funded research that reaches wildly unscientific conclusions, I just remember those fucking sweet potatoes. I remember that curiosity dies when people are just trying to give their superiors the “right” answers, so they can get the grade, get the job, get the paycheck. It’s not about truth when it’s about paying rent. There’s no scientific integrity if you can’t control for human desperation.

I’ve always gone back and forth about whether to picture Martin stabbing Jon in the front or the back because there’s such beautiful symbolic potential for both.

Like on the one had you’ve got the image that they’re cradling the knife between them, both holding it during perhaps the closest thing they’ve had to a true act of free will in a long time. Jon can’t press the knife in, but he can ease the blow for Martin. He can tell him it’s okay, that he forgives him even though there’s nothing to forgive. It’s horrible and painful, but it’s also setting them free. The blood would get on both of them as they held each other, and, at first glance, you wouldn’t be able to tell whose it was.

But then on the other hand you’ve got nothing coming between them, not even this, not even now. It’s Jon being killed by the same person in whose arms he’s currently finding comfort—and those two things are not at odds. It’s the potential that, if the knife is long enough, Martin could cut himself as well, but that doesn’t matter because his heart already broke with Jon’s anyway. It’s two people who have always found it so hard to trust taking the ultimate symbol of betrayal and turning it into a symbol of loyalty.

And I don’t know which I love more.

reblog if you are ok with mass booping

TMAGP 8: A Summary

Jon in S4 hospital bed coma:

Elias at his bedside, sobbing: How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed