#or the famous ‘she’s a woman oh my god that’s woman Crowley and I have FELINGS for her’

[vintage-bentley]

Fandom: “Crowley presents as female!”

The “presenting as female” in question:

The sexism is off the charts, folks. Wearing a dress, done up hair, and makeup = woman. Wearing a “female garment” = woman. Having long hair = woman. It’s just gender roles. And it’s no less disgusting and sexist just because it’s dressed up with terms like “nonbinary” or “genderfluid”.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Beyond Seduction: pt II

Pairing: Artist!Sam Winchester x Isobella Tennant

Warnings: cursing, flirting, touching, sexual innuendos, low self esteem, domineering mother

WC:2508

A/N: So in this part Isobella implements the next step in her plan and the slow burn starts building between Sam and her.

Part I

Mobile masterlist

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

***

The new boy had scurried off the fetch more coal as the door knocker sounded. Sam opened it and was stunned to see who was standing there.

“Are you still interested in painting me?”

Sam blinked a few times thinking he was imagining her standing there but no, she hadn’t disappeared. “Did Crowley seek you out to jolly me from the doldrums?” He chided her as he leisurely leaned against the door jam.

Izzy stood up ramrod straight, pushing her shoulders back and jutted out her jaw, “Who’s Crowley? Obviously, you were not serious, I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She tursley replies, marching back down his walkway before he knew it.

“Wait!” Sam called out louder than intended, making her pause as he rushed out the door barefoot wincing from the cold and stopped in front of her, “I’m sorry, you took me by surprise, I was beginning to think I had imagined you.” She raised an eyebrow at that remark.

“Perhaps you should seek help from Doktor Freud,” It was Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow, surprised she knew about the famous psychoanalyst, “if all you can imagine is someone who looks like me.” He was set back at the disparaging comment about herself.

“How about we discuss it inside before my neighbors think I’m even madder than they already believe.” He glances down drawing her attention to his inappropriate outdoor attire.

“Oh hell, how are you not freezing?”

“Actually, I am but I wasn’t gonna let you disappear again.” She lets out a little huff before proceeding him across the threshold into his brightly lit home.

All the gas lights are turned up as evening sets in, illuminating the area almost as brightly as daytime. Izzy lingers in the entryway looking around at the sumptuous if eclectic furnishings enhanced by the lighter colored walls.

Sam quietly observers her. The coat is way too big, swallowing her frame, gloves are almost worn out and the wool wrapper is hiding most of her head.

She stops, turned in profile in front of a statue of Anubis, running a gloved finger over the engravings along its base. Sam can clearly see the curve of cheekbones and the strong cut of her jaw. Sensing him watching, she turns to face him full on.

Sam steps closer as his artist's eyes continue cataloguing her features. A small smile plays on his lips at an errant smudge of soot on a cheek, the cinnamon freckles dusted across her face standing out against her creamy skin, even her full lips possess them. The nondescript nose is the same.

He remembers her being well above the normal height of most women, realizing it’s not from the heels of her indecently revealed boots under that god awful orange dress, it’s all her.

He moves scant inches in front of her, forcing her to tip her head back to continue making eye contact with him.

Sam’s stomach free falls in disbelief at their color, even her long lashes are exactly like Dean’s.

Were like Dean’s...Sam mentally having to remind himself his beloved older brother has been gone for nearly sixteen years.

“Fuck, your very tall!” She blurts out, snapping him from his dark musings.

“So are you and a lady does not use such language.” Sam gently admonishes, making her snort in a very unladylike manner, “Then you haven’t spent much time around real ladies if you believe they don’t curse.”

Sam chuckles knowing all too well those real ladies. Lady De Burgh did erotic things with him that would have even the lowest prostitute blushing. “You are very free with your opinions.”

She shrugged, “I prefer to be truthful than a sycophant like most of the queen's court.”

“Touché. Now that we are done exchanging the pleasantries,” Sam reached for the top button of the overcoat she stiffened, “I am not a whore even if my employer has cast me off.”

Sam lightly traced the button with his index finger, “He cast you off because of what happened that night?” His voice took a hard edge at how she had been treated by the Duke.

She bit her lower lip looking down, “None of that,” Sam touched her lip gently pulling it free and rubbed his thumb across it, enjoying its plumpness, “I’d rather you didn’t damage yourself and you’ve done nothing wrong to warrant dismissal, even if he has had his fill of you.”

It had always elicited anger in him at how the aristocracy thought they were above reproach for the way they treated those in their employment. Too many times he had seen women dismissed when the lord of the manor was done with them, moving on to the next young chit.

She looked up at him, “I know what is expected of a model...” blushing, she was unable to finish.

“I have never asked any woman to give more than she’s willing. I won’t deny I want you to warm my bed,” her eyes widened as Sam slowly licked his pink lips suggestively, distracting her as he unbuttoned the coat and moving behind her, slips it off, dropping it onto a nearby chair, and lowered his voice saying, “but only because it’s what you want too.”

Sam tipped his head down a bit, close enough she could feel him breathing against her cheek, the heat of him radiating on her back barely a hands width away, making her tremble, getting a sense of how imposing he really is as he takes the end of her scarf and untwined it to reveal her messy, barely held up by a few pins, hair. He gives into temptation and removed them.

Her hair was even more glorious than he remembered, luxuriously thick waves, kinked from the damp weather, tumbled past her waist, below her buttocks, brushing her thighs in a fiery mixture of reds and golds.

Sam walked in front of her watching her shiver, delighted he was already having an affect on her. “You’ve caught a chill. Let me show you to your room where you can freshen up.”

Sam lead her up three flights of stairs to the servants quarters in the attic. “You have the floor to yourself. Mrs. Mills has her own house, the maid lives with an aunt, the new boy is in the carriage house and of course Crowley is in the basement,” Izzy squinted at the amused way he said it, “the butlers quarters.”

“The WC is across the hall.” Sam remarks opening the door for Izzy to enter into the cupboard sized room typical for a governess and leans against the jam crossing his arms.

Upon the washstand sat a chipped basin and pitcher, the dresser had a fine layer of dust on it but the floor was recently swept, the linens laying on the narrow bed appear freshly laundered.

“The stove draws but we don’t skimp on coal, not that I’d expect you to light your own fire unless you want to.” Sam dropped a hand to rest on his thigh emphasizing his actual meaning. “I missed lunch, if you’re hungry, join me in the Blue room in a half hour.”

“You want me to sup with you?” Izzy asked confusedly, assuming she would be taking her meals with his other servants.

“Of course, even though I’m employing you, I prefer my models to dine with me, as would any guest would in my home. I’m afraid it will be whatever Crowley comes up with, Mrs. Mills won’t be back till Monday. If you prefer, I can have something sent up.”

Izzy was about to answer when her stomach rumbled loudly in the quiet quarters making Sam laugh, “I’m guessing you’ll join me?” She nodded in response. “Good, I’ll see you shortly Izzy Morgan.” Sam's eyes raked over her one more time before closing the door. Izzy sat in the bed shaking but not from the cool room.

Whether it was from her adrenaline tapering off or the sheer arousal Sam made her feel she wasn’t sure of. One thing she did know, one way or another, she wouldn’t leave his home an unsullied woman.

Dinner turned out to be sausage, rewarmed biscuits and a gravy that looked strange but was tasty. Sam lounged in his chair watching Izzy eat like a well mannered lady, she obviously had picked that up from being in service, but cleaned her plate like a dock worker. He had to add being a pinch penny to the Duke's growing list of faults when it came to his staff, judging by the way the awful orange dress was to short and hung loosely on her frame.

“I can get Crowley to fix you something else,” a confused expression crossed Izzy features wondering why he said that after she had already finished her dinner, “I noticed you cleared your plate.”

Oh.

Izzy felt her stomach clench so hard it hurt, once again hearing her mother’s voice running through her head about her unladylike appetite, eating everything in front of her as if she was some common field hand instead of a titled lady.

Lavinia Tennant never missed an opportunity to chastise her unladylike daughter.

A true lady eats like a bird, only a few tiny bits of each course out of politeness. No gentlemen would ever want a wife who eats more than him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eat this much, I won’t do it again.” Izzy automatically apologized using the tone that always placates her mother, staring at the table.

Sam sat up in surprise watching Izzy rapidly blinking, regaining control of herself realizing he had unwittingly triggered something in her. What had happened to her ? “I didn’t mean to imply you ate too much,” he reached over placing a finger under her chin and gently lifted up trying to get her to look at him, “I thought perhaps you were still hungry and would like something else. I’m not chastising you.”

Izzy finally looked up and Sam was saddened by the expression he found.

“In my home no one goes without what they need, do not be afraid to ask. And you’re welcome to raid my kitchen anytime, day or night. Do you understand me Izzy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, and it’s Sam. And do not think it has slipped my notice that you brought nothing, not even a toothbrush. I keep a few clothes on hand for my models but I doubt they’ll fit. If you can survive till Monday, I’ll take you to a dressmaker I know for something that’s not...this.” Sam finished gesturing the dress making him develop a hatred for the color orange.

“I feel like an orange nightmare.” Izzy comments, sounding more like herself.

She was intriguing him more and more. He knew she was made of sterner stuff but wondered what had happened to create the dichotomy he just witnessed.

“If you’re not too tired I want to get you in my studio and do some preliminary sketches tonight.”

***

Izzy wandered around the large room with high ceilings covered in tin refracting the lighting from the towering candelabras Sam lit. He didn’t use the gas lighting in here, something about the way the light cast something or another. She shivered slightly wondering why the room was cooler than the rest of the house.

As Sam pulled out a sketch pad and charcoal from a cabinet watching her moving in the periphery, examining everything with the same curiosity she had shown earlier stopping in front of a small copy of Venus and Cupid with a Saytar. “Did you do this?”

“Yes,” Sam said as he sat down on the stool he had placed near the raised platform covered in pillows, “it was the only one I have left from Italy. The Master would toss all of our works in the fire when he had to much to drink”

“You traveled quite a bit in your studies?”

“I was lucky that I had a chance to study with several Masters around Europe.”

“I’ve only been to Scotland once. Weather was dreadful but I wouldn't have traded it for a month of sunny days.” Izzy moved over to the platform and stood in front of it, “So how do you want me?”

Sam swallowed feeling himself becoming aroused at the innocent question as several ideas ran through his mind. “Please sit, I want to do a few preliminary sketches, familiarize myself with your features.” He watched as she stepped up and sat cross legged on the pillows keeping the ramrod straight posture like a duchess, something ladies were trained to do from childhood.

After about an hour she was wiggling around more than a professional model, “Can you sit still for more than a minute?” Sam huffed out ripping off another sheet, adding it to the growing pile around his feet. “Let's take a break.” Izzy stood up and arched her back stretching that awful dress taught over her revealing some interesting curves under its bagginess.

“That dress has gotten on my last nerve,” Sam barked out and pulled his shirt off handing it to her, “put this on.”

Izzy froze staring at him. She had seen men’s bare chests before, all her brothers weren't the most modest, but their figures were nothing compared to Sam’s.

He possessed musculature that could have been used for an anatomy manual, long chestnut hair brushed his broad shoulders encased in sun kissed golden skin, random beauty marks dotted his torso, a light smattering of hair sat between his nipples, toned stomach accented by the deep v of his hips.

Izzy already thought he was extremely attractive but after seeing Sam like this, he was breathtakingly beautiful.

Reluctantly taking the shirt she moved behind the carved screen participating a corner and unbuttoned her dress with shaking fingers. “Don’t forget to remove your chemise too.” Sam said standing directly on the other side.

“I know that Sam.” Izzy irritably tossed her dress over the screen hearing Sam curse after it landed on his head making her giggle.

She peeked around the screen at the sound of the candelabras being moved behind the platform. “I need to see you in a different lighting angle.” Sam tells her before perching on the stool again.

“Whenever your ready.”

Izzy feels her breathing becoming rapid as her nerves take over. She’s never been this undressed in front of any man before, not even Greyson and Sam Winchester was definitely not just any man.

“I know your nervous but I will only look at you as an artist and their subject. I won’t do anything untoward you unless you want it too.” Sam emphasizes again.

Izzy took a deep breath and came around the screen, walked to the platform and stepped on it.

“Don’t sit yet, move to the center in front of me please.” She moved to the designated spot.

“Turn around slowly,”

Sam felt his breath catch as the lighting behind her turned his white shirt translucent and he could see her figure.

Forevers: @donnaintx

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #292

“dear god, let’s make this fucking clear: dear god, there’s nothing that i fear”

What internet browser do you use? Chrome. What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc) Mom just grabs the Great Value jugs. Do you have a job? No. Are you full-time or part-time? N/A Are you watching TV right now? No. Or are you listening to music? Yeah, "Mr. Crowley" by Ozzy. Such a great song. Would you go to jail for 3 years for $1,000,000? No. I would NOT survive in jail. When's your birthday? February 5th. I cannot fucking believe I'm almost 25. Thoughts on kids? Too impressionable for me. Even with my niece and nephew, I feel like every single word I say just like... stamps into their brains, and what if I say something that negatively affects them? I feel like it's my responsibility as an aunt to be a fountain of wisdom when I'm definitely not. I just get nervous around kids. Worst punishment you've ever received by your parents? I wouldn't call it a "punishment," but when I skinned the everliving fuck out of my knees and Mom was patching me up while I was just sobbing away, my dad literally roared "SHUT UP!" from my parents' bedroom, and it's stuck with me forever. Honestly, I think it may be a root in my extreme fear of men yelling. Worst punishment from Mom, probably this time where she smacked the shit outta my arm as a kid and left a clear handprint for a while. Are you the type who is completely against abortion? Why? No, I am firmly pro-choice, despite being pro-life most of my life. I don't feel like writing a moral essay, but basically, I absolutely cannot agree with forcing a woman to carry a human they don't want for whatever reason for nine fucking months, endure one of the most traumatically painful things known to man, and then properly and adequately care for that child. That is such a huge fucking responsibility that should be forced upon *nobody*. "But adoption!" Yeah, go tell that to the thousands of children waiting on you. This is leaning on exactly what I said I wouldn't do, so moving along. Have you ever read a book that actually changed your outlook on life? "I’ve read some books that were phenomenal, but I wouldn’t necessarily go so far as to say that they 'changed my outlook on life'." <<<< This was Johnny Got His Gun for me. Does your favorite flower hold any meaning to you? No. What would you do if your favorite animal became endangered? I would fucking freak. Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No, but I honestly do want at least one, primarily with a deep black and then some nice grays and neutral colors. Do you own a tripod for your camera? Yes. Are your nails always painted? Quite the opposite. What's one thing you've had a toxic reaction to? A breakup. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? I honestly don't really decorate because I just don't have the motivation, but Halloween is the best. Were you popular in school? Nope. Are there any foods that often give you heartburn or indigestion? BANANAS, dark sodas (like Coke or Dr. Pepper), peanut butter can... It's hard for me to tell much now because I have chronic heartburn and am medicated for it. Works great, so I don't experience this much. Is there something you intend to buy in the near future? Yes. Once my tattoo is done (I'm setting the appointment the next time we leave the house, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), what I have left is going towards Venus' new terrarium. She really needs a 40 gallon. Is anyone in your family artistically talented? What about musically? I was the art kid, and family still insist I should be an artist. What cute behaviors or characteristics does/do your pet(s) have? Omg, Roman has so many. He nuzzles me all the time, will collapse into my hand to pet him, he insists on being the little spoon at bedtime (no, really), he literally tries to groom me with his teeth, licks my face... He is just a doll. My little buddy for sure. Now onto Venus. She loves to chill next to me in bed or find a cozy place under the covers, and omgggg does she love to slither around the bed doing the periscope thing. So curious. What's the screensaver on your computer? I don't have one. What’s the sexiest thing about a guy? I am WEAK for nice shoulderblades/muscular shoulders ok. What’s the sexiest thing about a girl? I am an ass bitch and I will not hesitate to admit it ayyyyyeeeee. Who were you with at midnight on January 1, 2021? Nobody. Who was the last person to send you a message on social media? My sister Misty. She's planning to surprise Mom (her stepmom, anyway) by showing up in a few weeks with her fiance and all her kids she's never met but desperately wants to. My mom is the only "real mom" she's ever had, and she just feels so bad that she has a by now teenage daughter (among three other younger ones) that has never met her "grandmother." It's just an expensive and long trip, but Misty's finally called it enough and is just driving down here with everyone. Mom is going to fucking sob. ^ What qualities does this person have, that you appreciate? Nice timing for this, since her fiercely anti-mask bullshit is all I can focus on about her lately... but there are good things about her. She truly is a very loving, passionate woman that, just like me, feels deeply and expresses it. What was the last thing that caused you to scowl, or frown? Does grimacing count from a sudden bodily pain? Have you smiled at any point during the last hour? Yeah. I'm watching the VOD of Arin Hanson playing Kingdom Hearts 2 for charity, and he went on a total fucking laughing fit. His laugh is so precious, so I just couldn't stop grinning. What was the last thing you consulted Google for? Ensuring "grimace" was the right word for my former expression, even though I was pretty positive it was correct... I don't know if anyone's noticed, but my English skills are degrading, particularly in spelling. It's concerning me. I was an English whiz my whole life up to now. My only guess is it's related to how godawful my memory is also declining. So, did anyone send you a "Happy New Year" message when midnight hit? No. When was the last time you were on a carousel? Probably not since I was a teenager being goofy with Jason or somebody. What is the closest you have ever been to an elephant? I have a picture on my dA of a beautiful elephant walking RIGHT by its fence at the zoo. It was pretty amazing, considering just how incredibly immense their enclosure is. Have you ever played Halo? No, it's not my kinda game. Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine? Oh, I'm positive I've read sections while in waiting rooms of various places. When was the last time you had a pillow fight? I have no idea. Realistically it was probably w/ Jason since that sounds like some cute playfighting thing we'd do, but I don't remember a particular instance. Name somebody who you think deserves more respect: "Retail works. The horror stories my mom has on the daily is absolutely ridiculous. People can be so incredibly rude." <<<< I absolutely agree with this; what friends and strangers alike rant about is just depressing. Nobody, especially those working through a goddamn pandemic that's killing thousands, deserves the disrespect that comes their way. Have some goddamn decency and know half the issues you bring up to retail workers isn't even their damn fault. Ohhhh, I could rant about this. In your own words, define what the word sexy means. So you mean like, what I think is considered sexy, not just the general definition? If that's the case, uhhh. Self-confidence (but absolutely not arrogance) is very attractive to me as a bitch who lacks it entirely, as well as good manners, being outgoing, and just... charm. I don't quite know how to describe that "charm" other than I'm really drawn to people who are unique and happy with it and just seem to have an aura about them that feels good to be in. What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live? I'm going to look at this question as if you're asking about my state and not general location because 1.) there ain't shit here and 2.) I'd prefer to keep relatively where I live quiet on the Internet. Looked it up and apparently NC's biggest tourist bait is the Biltmore Estate. Never been there myself, but it'd be pretty dope. Without looking - do you know what brand your underwear is? I'm in my own home and pjs, who the fuck wears underwear with that criteria lmao. Are you any good at volleyball? NOOOOOOOOO. I went to a volleyball camp thing once when I was younger and that shit hurts the hell outta your hands. I didn't stay long. Have you ever had a water balloon fight? Why of course. Do you think some babies are ugly? Quite honestly, probably most, especially newborns. Don’t you miss Chuck E. Cheese? I do; going there was one of the most exciting possible things to me as a kiddo. Do you think Fall Out Boy is gonna be a classic band, like Queen or AC/DC? Possibly. I mean they sure are pretty successful and well-known. Do you love stuff-crusted pizza? Eh, it's not my preference, but I'll eat it. Do you apply lotion after you bathe? No, but I really should, given how dry my skin is. What’s your favorite color? Pastel pink. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? I'd like to not think about this. Has a YouTube video of yours ever gotten over 10,000 views? Lol definitely not. I think at least one on my older channel hit 1k somehow???? It was a birthday gift I made for someone. Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? lol I already have one there. At some point I'm getting it covered, though. Do you like Robert Frost poems? I do! Do you go to church every Sunday? I never do. Have you ever been in a relationship on-and-off for more than a year? No, I don't play that game. You want me or you don't, so I'm not wasting my time on your uncertainty or just our lack of stability for whatever reason. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Absolutely writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? ?????????????????? i don't?????????????? care???????????????? they're not my tits??????????????? What is the last thing you tried on in a store? I don't know. I avoid trying shit on like the plague. And then it ends up being too big/small. I wonder why. Is sleeping naked more comfortable than in clothes? I've only ever fallen asleep naked once, and accidentally at that, so I really don't remember how I felt about it? Consciously though, I would feel very, very vulnerable so don't have plans to when I have my own place. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? HAHAHA Y'AAAAAALLLLLLL THIS WAS DEADASS THE ONLY LUCID DREAM I'VE EVER HAD LMAOOOOO Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better? My short-term memory is absolutely atrocious, like to the point it seriously affects my ability to get shit done. You can give me something that needs to be done and I will forget in a heartbeat. Now, my long-term memory is astonishing. I can remember many things from my childhood in incredible detail. Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before? Did you need to have surgery for it? I've had a concussion or two. I can't remember which. I didn't need surgery. Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve? Yeah: chronic depression, crippling social anxiety, generalized anxiety, avoidant personality disorder (AvPD), obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, bipolar II, and I think that's it. My head's a mess and a half. What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut? About to the small of my back; how it is now, which is pretty much shaved on the left and fades to near my chin on the right. I actually got it cut last month; we've gone to a family friend for years whose shop is just an extra building by her house and very rarely has more than two clients in it. We had masks on, of course. At what age did you start getting gray hairs, if you happen to have any? I don't have any. Somehow, given my stress level at all times, haha. What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it? It's too short to style. I don't use any products in it but obviously shampoo. Who was the last person to truly get on your nerves? What do you think caused you to feel that way? Probably my mom. I think she was in a rotten mood for one reason or another and just being snappy and generally rude. Do you recycle? Is this through choice or do you live somewhere where it’s compulsory? We do; it's by choice, and it'd be immensely ignorant not to where we live considering it literally gets picked up with the other garbage. Do you prefer plain, carbonated, or flavored water? Do you think you drink enough water throughout the day? I've never tried carbonated water, and flavored water rarely works for me due to artificial sweeteners giving me beastly headaches. So I'll just take really cold, filtered water. Have you ever needed to call the police, ambulance, or fire department? I had to call the ambulance for my mom right before her cancer was discovered because she was literally immobile and in ungodly pain. When was the last time you visited the library? What was the purpose of your visit? At my old college, as the newspaper photographer, I took some artsy pics up there. I will probably forever worry that leaving school resulted in the biggest career opportunity slipping through my fingers through that newspaper. Do you see a lot of wild animals where you live? Are any of them dangerous? I guess about the normal amount you'd see in the country. Some dangerous animals live here, sure, that's probably everywhere, but you very rarely see any. Aside from when you were born, have you ever had to stay the night in the hospital? For suicidal thoughts and one attempt, yes. Have you ever experienced a panic attack? Ahhhh, do I know those well. Thankfully, it's been a long time since I had an all-out panic attack. Would you ever want to go into the medical profession? Was your answer different pre-COVID? Nope. Well, besides being a vet, which I haven't wanted to be since I was a kid. Where you live, are people paying attention to whatever restrictions are in place to help control COVID? Many? No. Because it's apparently a fuckin hoax or not as bad as the government wants us to think. Fucking cretins. Do you get a real or artificial Christmas tree? Artificial. Real ones aren't worth the money nor mess. What’s your favourite type/flavor of popcorn? Caramel corn. Do you drink oat milk? No, but I'm interested in at least trying it. The dairy industry is absolutely repulsive if you look into it, and I'd love to do what I can to take as little part in it as possible... even though I am a dairy fiend. I seriously wish I could go vegan, I am just WAY too picky for it. Do you love thrifting? Oh fuck yes. I've been very few times in my life, but I'mm all about it. Do you consider using only lowercase letters your aesthetic? I do find it visually appealing; I like the flow of similar letter height. I never do it for "serious" things, but on places where it's "for the aesthetic," it's likely that's how I'll write something. Do you say “mood?” Way too much lmao. Do you own fairy lights? No, though I would like them if it wouldn't look stupid in my room. Do you own glass straws because the metal ones kind of gross you out because you can’t tell if they are clean or not? ... I didn't know glass straws were a thing. I have a handful of metal ones though, but I always forget I have one in my purse when I go out... Have you made a TikTok? No. Do you own airpods? No. Are you afraid of Mercury in retrograde? I don't believe in a planet's position or whatever having any effect on people. Do you make life choices based on astrology? Definitely not, considering I don't believe in it to begin with. How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? Maybe like, five? Number of jeans in your closet: Zero. What accent do you have? Not really any, but sometimes I sound kinda southern with specific words. Do you have a big butt? Yo I got a Hank Hill ass, so no. Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? In my past relationships, yes, I assigned our anniversary to memory. I don't really... know why, like it doesn't really matter how long you've been together, I just do. Have you graduated? From HS, yes. I dropped out of college three times lmao. Rihanna or Lady GaGa? Ohhh, not sure. Maybe GaGa, but both ladies have songs I love. "Disturbia" doess beat all of her songs, tho. The fuckin BEAT. Do you use fake eyelashes? Never tried 'em. Which was the last book that really captivated you? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. What makeup brands do you use? I'm not loyal to any, really. I would be if I could afford expensive shit, but yeah, that ain't my life.

[destieldisaster]

03x05 - Bedtime Stories

MotW: spirit of girl in a coma making gruesome fairytales come true

Bickering over who gets to die for the other. Good emotional stuff, of course, I just feel like I'm running out of ways to talk about it

So, Sammy, eating the heart is fine, but chunks of the kidneys, lungs, and intestines?

Famous last words

Oh my god this woman, the way shs's smiling like she's Rose in Golden Girls while she stabbes the dude over and over again i cAN'T

HA. I think we've all been sleeping on this episode, this is great

(also note how this is basically dean calling himself a princess)

And then Dean calling Sam gay for knowing the story of Cinerella??? DUDE.

Dean having to asure himself that he only knows the porn versions of fairytales is honestly so fucking funny

Dean, you know the full name of a character on the OC? Babe.

Is it, though? Is it really?

Heh, the girl's actually wearing a red hood

Kind of disappointed the dude didn't dress up as the grandma

Okay, rant incoming.. Why is the girl wearing all that makeup when she's in a coma??? She was 8 when she went into it, so it's not even like she used to wear that??? But for some reason they now do her eyebrows and apply mascara because??? This fucking world, man...

Oh.. that poor girl

Honestly, this is the appropriate response to meeting the brothers

And of course we have to relate the doc letting his daughter go to Sam needing to let all hope of saving Dean go, because this show needs to kick me in the heart every goddamn episode

Sweety, I don't like you, and you CLEARLY have this backwards. But then this is Sam, so speaking to his ego might actually work..

Ooooh, mention of Crowley - if not by name

[dazzlingfantasiesblogs]

Mirror Image P1

Hey all! 

Thought I would drop a story so you all could read something to pass the time! :) 

I also have another Hurricane part coming out too! <3

Dean x Reader (maybe)

Warnings: Mention of blood. 18+. If under 18 you will be blocked. 

Please do not use my work anywhere else.

GIFS ARE NOT MINE

Walking through the bar doors, they slammed against the brick door with force. Setting down the boombox, turning the music to loud grabbing your katana. As Lily Allen “Hard out here” played. Looking the corner of the bar you seen a steel box with two humans in it. Looking closer, you seen it was the famous hunters Dean and Sam Winchester. “Oh, how over rated.” “LETS GO BLOOD SUCKERS” Dean looked through the cage to a woman with short bright blue hair, black handkerchief holding it up. A dark jean jacket, with a black lace bra underneath and ripped jeans. “Who the fuck…?” Dean whispered. Soon four people walked out the back of the bar. Fangs showing, gleaming in the dim lit trash hole that was called a bar. “I suppose I should tell you what this bitch is thinkin If I told you about my sex life youd call me a slut.” 

You sang out looking at the four men racing towards you. “It’s hard out her for a bitch” You sang out slicing the first head, watching the blood spray the wall. The smirk you wore was your greatest asset. Holding your hand up the vampires stopped in their tacks. “Forget your balls and grow a pair of tits” Putting your hand down after the single sentence. “Always trust the injustice because its not going away” After slicing the rest heads off, the bar was covered in blood. The bodies laid limp on the ground. The song stopped and you stretched out. “God damn it Y/N!” Molly walked in the door, a drop of blood falling on her face. “You realize we will have to burn this whole fucking place to the ground?!” She sighed rubbing her temples at her sister. “Was counting on it.” Flicking the lighter open with a clink you walked to the cage. “Oh wow, the big bad Winchesters.” “What in Chucks name are you..?” Raising an eyebrow rolled your eyes. “Human.” Seeing the chain on the box you grabbed your katana. “Stand back…” “That wont cut this thick..” Swiping down the katana broke the steel chain with ease. “Forged by angels.” You spoke, giving off a wink to the taller Winchester. “Than..Thank you. My name is Sam..” He held out his large hand. “Y/N. That over there is Molly. My sister. Hunters.” Dean shoved Sam aside. Sticking out his hand “Dean.” “Ah, the big heroic complex guy. Hey.” Shaking his hand firmly you nodded. “Molly” you waved for her to come over. “Molly” shook both of the mans hands. “Alright, you might want to get out so I can torch this place.”

Sitting on top of your black matte wrangler, you watched the building go up in flames. Looking over you seen Sam and Molly talking, laughing. With a faint smile your eyes turned back to the flames. How you adored the scene of a large fire. “CAS!” Molly yelled running over to the trench coat wearing man. “Hey Molly!” Cas smiled slightly. “Wait.. how do you..?” Cas looked at Dean as he spoke. “Ugh, well.. Um.. Remember when I plucked you from hell Dean? Well.. I plucked her out too.” Dean looked up at you. Your face was stoic, not as playful as before. “You have been to hell?” “Four times. Once for killing an angel that turned bad, the other three for Crowley.” Taking a swig of the whiskey, wiping your mouth. Sam watched the blue haired girl show obvious signs of internal pain. Something about her and her sister was similar to Dean and him. “Where are you guys staying?” “Motel off of 7.” Molly spoke gently, calming Y/N obvious nerves. “So are we..” “Only motel for miles dumbass.” Speaking out loudly. “Oops, was that out loud.” Chuckling to yourself you slid off the wrangler stumbling. Molly looked at Y/N and frowned. “I better get her back before she passes out..” Molly walked over and put her arm under the shorter sister and helped her in the Jeep. “Maybe we will see you around.”

Around 2AM Molly hurd a knock on the solid oak door. She had been awake, writing in her journal. Looking through the peephole, she seen Sam. Opening the door, she let him in. “Hey..” Molly looked at him confused. “Your sister, she is hurting..” Sam mumbled looking at the sprawled out body on one of the beds. Still in her denim jacket and pants. “You don’t know the half of it.” Molly sighed sitting at the bright green lime colored table. “It is funny, I am the eldest. You would think I would be more like her. Yet.. The truth is I was adopted by Y/N Mom. She was a hunter too. A great hunter. There was a haunting at an orphanage. It was terrible.. Long story short.. Y/N mom came in. Y/N at her heels and they saved everyone. Y/N Seen me cornered by the ghost and salt blasted that mother fucker. She grabbed my hand and with a smile saved my life. I can never pay back the life they have given me. Y/N has given me every option to go to college to have a normal life.. I just.. I can’t leave her.” Sam watched the beautiful woman in front of him talk. “I am so unsure why I am telling you this..” “Because I can relate.” Sam spoke with a smile. “However, My family didn’t want me to go..” Molly nodded looking at the man in front of her. “Y/N.. Y/N.. She.. Doesn’t stop. She goes so much. With or without me. She doesn’t stop till she is hurt, or asleep. I have tried to get her to enjoy life, find love.. She won’t..” Sam chuckled a bit at the irony. “Funny, Dean wanted a normal life. Or so he thought. Till he got the chance he couldn’t do it. Where are you two from?” “Ely, Minnesota.” “Lawrence, Kansas.” Sam spoke after.

After a few hours of talking, Molly and Sam got to know a lot about each other. “Want to go get some coffee?” Molly smiled “I would love too.”  they walked out the door, they left it unlocked.

An hour later Dean walked to the room with a wrangler in front of it knocked on the motel door. No answer. With instinct and worried about his brother he opened the door. He looked on the bed to see you still asleep. Stepping on a creaky wood floor board, Y/N Grabbed her gun under her pillow and pointed it at Dean. His hands flew to his glock pointing it at her. “WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING DOING HERE?!” y/n stood up looking at him through her scope. “I AM LOOKING FOR SAM!” “WHERE IS MY SISTER!”  Sam and Molly walked in laughing. “Oh shit!” Sam slid Molly behind him. “WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU!?!” Dean and Y/N yelled at the same time. “We went and got coffee..” Sam gazed at Dean to put down his weapon. Lowing your gun you took a deep breath in and out. “Don’t fucking leave without telling us..” Y/N growled annoyed. Holding a hand over her heart. Getting up from the bed, she grabbed some clothes and walked into the shower.

“She doesn’t play around does she?” Dean mumbled drinking his coffee. “She could take you.” Molly said calmly taking a swig of her coffee. Sam snorting a bit, chuckling. “Bull shit.. No girl that is 5’2” is going to take me down.” “Height has nothing to do with it. I am faster than you egghead.” Y/N walked out in her high waisted yoga pants and black tanktop. Her eye makeup dark with a dark ruby lip. Her arms littered in tattoos. “Going for a run..” Molly nodded looking down a bit sadly. Grabbing your head phones you slipped them in your ear and headed out the door.  “Does she always wear makeup when she runs?” Dean asked confused. “Helps her, or so she says..” Molly whispered.

“Run, don’t stop. Seven more miles..” Your mother spoke next to you. The two of your running up a hill that you were sure heaven at to be at the top. Your breathing was heavy, and the sweat dripped down your head. “Mom.. this sucks can we stop?” you spoke in gasps. “NO! Do you think monsters stop?”

 With your headphones in and the music blaring you tried to forget reality. Each bounce of your tennis shoes lifting your feet up, moving forward. Running through the streets of Avon Lake Ohio, you pushed yourself to keep going. Dodging people, pets and cars. People watched as a girl littered in tattoos jogged at full speed. Two hours passed you felt hunger start to consume you.

“She has been gone for awhile, should I go and find her?” Dean asked spinning his cup around. “No, this is normal for her. After a few kills she needs to get rid of the thought. “Could of fooled me, seems like she enjoyed it.” Molly sighed a bit. “Truth is, she does. She is stuck between loving it and hating it. She feel strapped with those feelings. The woman rarely sleeps if she doesn’t drink or take sleeping pills. She can sleep with a guy and kick him out and still not sleep.” “She isn’t getting it good then.” Dean smirked. Sam grabbed a book and chucked it at him.

As you walked in the door you seen a styrofoam box waiting for you on the table. “We picked you up some food.” Dean spoke walking out of your bathroom. “Where is my sister?” your icy eyes staring at his hazel ones. “They went to another coffee shop. They are pretty glued to the hip.”  Sighing annoyed your walked to grab your now cold coffee. “Well at least she can have some fun.” Dean looked her up and down, the sweat dripping from her forehead. Blotchy sweat stained her tank top. “Quit looking at me like I am a meal you pervert. You couldn’t handle this if you fucking tried.” Slapping your hand on his broad shoulder you kept walking towards the bathroom. “You are kind of.. rude aren’t you.?” Dean spoke up, with his lips pursed slightly. “Rude? Why because I am now fawning over the Winchesters? Sorry. The only Winchester I cared about is dead.” Cocking his head slightly to the side he looked over at you. “John.” His name escaped your lips. “He.. He was the reason I killed the thing that took my mom from me. From Molly!” You yelled a little louder than you wanted. Clenching your fists, knowing you were taking it out on his son. The pain of losing your mother. “Y/N.. I.. He never…” “Look at page 168 in his hunters journal.. The special Demon… He.. He helped me figure out how to kill that son of a bitch.” Walking into the bathroom you slammed the door shut. Starting the warm water, the pain and fear that seemed to consume you everyday over flowed. The tears and water from the shower melding together.

Dean skimmed through his fathers journal. “Page 168” Dean started to read over it. This journal entry was a tad longer than the others. “I helped two young women avenge their mother. It was a brutal hunt. I seen the same look in the youngest eyes that I seen in Dean over and over. She would never stop hunting. That much is clear. She constantly paced back and forth reading lore for days trying to find out how to kill this demon. If Dean and her ever met, it would be like looking in the mirror. They would either be the best of friends, or worst of enemies. She kills swiftly, without knowledge of her being there. She took out a vamps nest, without my help. I was captured, she walked in, blood dripping from her sword and a blank expression. She was something to be scared of. After helping escape, I found out she was Mila’s daughter. A fellow hunter that I had done a few trips with. To hear she was dead was a shocker. Y/N moving the same way as her.” Dean took a deep breath. “Special demon..” he whispered to himself. He read on how to kill it. As he kept reading, he learned how brutal the hunt was and how smart Molly was. It was like he was reading about himself and Sam. “Hey we are back.” Dean raised his head from the journal looking at Molly. “Hey guys..” Dean took a deep breath shaking his head. “So you knew our father..” Molly narrowed her eyes on the journal. “Yeah.. he.. he was a great man. When he passed.. I could only imagine how bad it hit you. It hit us as well.” Molly’s voice full of empathy with a caring undertone. “Alright, pack up. We got a hunt to go on.” Y/N spoke walking out in shorts and a sports bra. “Fuck..” Dean mumbled seeing the tattoos that covered her. Sigials, enochian and other tattoos. “You.. you have so many wardings” Sam looked at the wall as he spoke. “Any angel that grabs us gets burned. We can activate it by speaking one word.” Molly nodded pulling up her sleeve showing her arms. “We got a wendigo. Back home.” Y/N spoke coldly as she finished getting dressed. “We can help..” Sam spoke up looking at you once again. “N..” “That would be great!” Molly spoke up smiling. Sliding your hand down your face you shrugged. Molly deserved to be Happy.

Stopping in Saint Paul, Minnesota to eat Y/N got out of her wrangler. Walking ahead of the group to a bar that she often went too when she was headed back to her home city. Opening the steel door, eyes stared at the bright blue haired woman. “Look who it is, the vamp killer!” Gerald hollered from the bar. “Look who it is, the piece of shit that runs this dump!” You smiled a bit walking over to the bar, giving Gerald a kiss on the cheek. Smiling down at you, scooping you into a large hug. “So, a whole vamps nest. Rumor has it you saved…” Gerald watched Molly walk in with he two men he was just about to announce. “Winchester.” Laughing slightly you shrugged. “Molly get your beautiful self over here and give me a hug!” With a smile plastered on her face, she ran jumping over the bar. She gave Gerald a huge hug, receiving a kiss on the top of her head. “Keeping this one out of trouble?” Molly narrowed her eyes towards you. “Trying too, you know how hard it can be.” Dean watched the man behind the bar. He looked oddly familiar. “You knew Bobby..” Dean spoke up staring at the man who was in his late 40s. “Correct. I knew your father pretty well too.” Sam tilted his head slightly. “What are you two doing around my girls?” “Your girls?” Dean asked a bit rough. “Yes, I care for these two. I help them with lore, a hunt. Whatever they may need.” “Gerald. Can I get a shot of whiskey please?” Nodding the man grabbed four glasses with one large ice cube pouring whiskey over it. Grabbing the class you deemed yours, you walked to the pool tables and wracked them up. “So your headed to Ely?” Gerald asked walking over to you concerned. “Yeah.. I am guessing Wendigo..”

[applepiewinchesters]

Four Times Aziraphale Wanted to Kiss You, And the Time he Finally Did (Aziraphale x Angel!Reader)

 *REQUESTS ARE CLOSED*

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: Maybe Angst, Fluffiness although that’s not really a warning

 The first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was seeing you for the first time after the garden.

You were dressed in a long, flowing white dress and had come to stand beside him as you watched the animals being loaded into Noah’s ark. You were stunning, your hair in curls down your back, a popular style of the time. Just…stunning.

“Good to see you again, my dear,” Aziraphale said to you.

You smiled, “You as well, Aziraphale, I just wish it was during better circumstances” you told him.

Before Aziraphale could answer, you turned when you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning to see the demon, Crawley, standing beside you.

“Oh, hello again,” you said, giving the demon a polite nod.

Aziraphale silently cursed for the interruption, not that he wasn’t just slightly happy to see Crawley, he was a rather interesting companion.

“So, giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you?” Crawley asked, looking over to Aziraphale.

“The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Most likely a good thing,” you added, the demon and angel beside you both nodded.

“What’s all this about?” Crawley asked, motioning towards the large boat in front of you all, “Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo? From what I hear, God’s a bit tetchy.”

“Wiping out the human race,” Aziraphale said, lowering his voice, “Big storm.”

“All of them?” Crawley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just the locals,” Aziraphale told him.

“I don’t believe the Almighty is upset with the Chinese,” you said, “Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.”

“Yet,” Crawley said, shrugging.

“And God’s not actually going to wipe out all the locals,” Aziraphale spoke, “I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they’re all going to be fine.”

“But they’re drowning everyone else?” Crawley asked, looking around, “Not the kids? You can’t kill kids.”

You and Aziraphale both just nodded, a bit uncomfortable at the realization. “Well, that’s more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do,” Crawley said.

“Yes, but when it’s done, the Almighty’s going to put up a new thing called a rainbow, as a promise not to drown everyone again,” said Aziraphale.

“How kind,” Crawley said sarcastically, you sort of agreed with him, you weren’t as…devoted to the ineffable plan as Aziraphale was.

“You can’t judge the Almighty Crawley,” Aziraphale argued, “God’s plans are…”

Crawley cut him off, “Are you going to say “ineffable?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Aziraphale said, making you giggle softly, the sound was music to his ears.

That was the first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you.

*

The second time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was when you met Shakespeare, you looked beautiful in your long, red velvet gown, your hair still long and flowing down your back, but Crawley, well, Crowley now, interrupted you once again.

Not to mention Shakespeare kept flirting with you for lack of a better word, reciting some of his new work to you as you giggled.

“Jealous?” Crowley asked, leaning over to Aziraphale, watching as you blushed at whatever Shakespeare was telling you.

“I-I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale said, turning his gaze away from you to Crowley.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “I’m not stupid Aziraphale, I can see the way you look at her, just get on with it already, it’s been a few thousand years after all.”

Aziraphale shook his head, “I can’t, she’s too…her, and I’m too me,” he said.

“Would you like me to tell her then?” Crowley asked, smirking.

Aziraphale nearly felt his heart jump out of his chest as he quickly shook his head, “No, no, please,” he said, making the demon chuckle.

“I’m only joking,” Crowley spoke, “but I would definitely snatch her up before someone like Casanova over there does.”

Aziraphale sighed, “I’ll tell her, at the right time,” he said, although he himself had no idea when that would be.

*

The third time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was in 1941 in London when you both thought you were going to be rather inconveniently discorporated by a couple of scumbag Nazis.

You were pretty bad ass that day, talking back to Nazis and all, he himself wasn’t exactly that brave.

Both of you were relieved when Crowley strolled in, well, more like interpretive danced into the room, given the consecrated ground and all.

“Crowley, what are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Coming to save you two! Can’t have you getting into trouble,” he spoke, still doing his little dance, it was rather comical.

“We were doing just fine Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Ah, Anthony J. Crowley, your fame precedes you,” one of the Nazi’s spoke.

“Anthony?” Aziraphale questioned, looking to Crowley.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t say that, I’ll get used to it,” Aziraphale said.

“The famous Mr. Crowley,? That’s such a pity you must all die,” the Nazi woman spoke.

“What does the J stand for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the demon, who shrugged.

“It’s just a J really,” he said, looking off to the side, “Look at that! A whole font full of holy water, doesn’t even have any guards.”

“Enough babbling!” one Nazi yelled, “Kill them all.”

After Crowley rerouted that bomb and Aziraphale saved you all from being discorporated, you were covered in soot from the destroyed church rubble now surrounding you.

Aziraphale came over to you, taking a handkerchief out of his jacket, “Here you are my dear,” he told you, smiling.

You smiled back, “Oh, thank you,” you said, using the cloth to wipe the soot off your face, you handed it back after you were done.

“Missed a spot,” Aziraphale said, reaching out and wiping a bit of soot off your cheek, you could feel your face heat up when you looked down sheepishly.

Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to feel that heat against his lips, but he didn’t, not that time at least.

*

The fourth time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was shortly after you started helping him at his bookshop. You spent hours organizing books with him, finding just the right spots for everything.

He’d accumulated quite a collection over the years, and while he had no trouble organizing things, he was also happy to have some help, especially when it came from you.

After a really long day you’d even go out and buy dinner and pastries to eat together at small table by the window. It was one of his favorite things that came with you helping in the shop.

Another was when you’d bring him tea when you noticed he has having a particularly hard time organizing or trying to interpret some old language no one knew anymore.  

You were incredibly kind, but truly brave when you needed to be, it was something he loved about you. Also, you were different than most angels, sometimes going against protocol for the greater good of those surrounding you, not just heaven.

Aziraphale especially loved watching how careful you were with the books, carefully placing each of them on a shelf, especially if they were very old.

You were the only one he’s found to appreciate books as much as he did, and as he watched you, he wondered what your reaction would be from just a small kiss of appreciation.

Aziraphale shook these thoughts from his mind though, still not the right time he’d decided.

*

The fifth time Aziraphale wanted, and did, finally, kiss you, was when he came back to the bookshop after switching places with Crowley to help the other survive their punishments for stopping the apocalypse. You’d been spared for some reason, probably since Gabriel only had some weird thing against Aziraphale.

But the look on your face when he walked through the doors of the bookshop was so full of happiness and love that he knew this had to be the right time.

You’d run up to him and hugged him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder, “I’m so glad you’re alright,” you mumbled into his jacket.

Aziraphale smiled, wrapping his own arms around you, holding you close, “I could never leave you behind, love,” he told you, making you blush as you pulled away slightly from the hug, his hands still resting on your waist.

“My dear,” he started, “forgive me if this is completely inappropriate but…”

You’d cut him off, smashing your lips against his. He was quite shocked to say the least, but soon melted into the kiss, pulling you closer to him. You tasted just as sweet as he’d imagined, and your lips were incredibly soft.

When you pulled away, you giggled at how red Aziraphale’s face had gotten, “I’d been waiting to do that for about six thousand years,” you admitted, “I could see you did too, and I figured it was now or never.”

Aziraphale smiled, leaning down to press another gentle kiss to your lips, “That is just what I was thinking,” he told you.

When you’d both told Crowley you were officially together about a week later, he nearly burst with relief, “Finally!” he shouted, “I don’t think I could take another six thousand years of the sexual tension.”

Aziraphale had choked at his tea at that comment, while you on the other hand just laughed.

A/N: This took me a few hours to write, I kept getting stuck haha, but I hope you loved it! Thank you so much for reading and all the love! Requests will be open again either later this week or next week! Love you all! ~ Sara :)

[lifblogs]

Title: Livin In You: Chapter 6

Rating: Explicit (for later chapters)

Pairing: Destiel (they’ll be meeting soon!)

Word Count: 1500

Summary: Castiel is a mental health worker who is just fine with the way his life is. The only thing that really bugs him is how much his co-worker, and friend, Meg, mentions Dean Winchester, the most famous rock star in the modern age. Meg drags him to a concert, and he ends up getting tied into the wild and angsty life of Dean Winchester. Suddenly his old life seems boring, but so much calmer. Suddenly, it matters to him that he's still a virgin. Suddenly, this rock star that he despised the mention of, now matters to him.

Dean Winchester is a rockstar who's on top of the world when it comes to music. Yet there's more that he wants. He misses Lisa and Ben, he craves connection, craves being himself. Any hope for that amidst his alcoholic life all changes when Zachariah, the head exec of Heaven's Records, pairs with a new exec, Michael Edlund -- the Archangel of Music. Under Michael's dominance, he's no longer in control of his own life. There are rules. No more sex with fans. No more alcohol. And in Dean's view, no more god damn free will. Yet he stumbled into Castiel.

A/N: This chapter contains alcoholism, violence, and mentions of abuse.

Tagging: @evilwriter37, @becky-srs

Anyone else, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged! Always happy to have more readers. :D

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“Though the sounds of someday / May be home! / Though the sounds of someday / May be be home, ay!”

Sweat glistening on his skin, but not ruining the various bronzers that had been put on him, Dean brought his running, and his dancing to a stop, and he stood, blocking out the crowd, just listening to the guitar as he strummed, just waiting for the right moment. His soul seemed like it could fly, and he was on top of the world, and as he took in the breath to finish this song, he knew that he was high on life. It could take him anywhere.

“And though the sounds of someday / May be home, ooh!”

Dean let the last notes hang in the air, simply mesmerized with the tune of his own song, with the depth and lightness of his voice.

Finally, he finished the concert, and the fans went wild. Dean came back to himself, beaming, still feeling as though music was pounding through his body.

“Thank you, everybody!” he screamed. “You’ve been a great crowd! Whoo! Kansas City!”

After more moments of adoration, Dean’s handlers were behind the curtain, beckoning him to come off the stage.

He left, body exhausted, but made sure he seemed to have as much energy as he had upon entering the stage.

An assistant took his guitar, and the sounds of the crowd faded as he was led down stairs, and through various halls of the stadium, to a green room.

Dean skipped the water on the table as he passed by, and grabbed a beer.

Sam was waiting for him in the green room, having been allowed in because he was his brother. Crowley was there as well, and unfortunately, so was a man he’d had a few dealings with and rather didn’t like: Zachariah. He was the executive of the record label Dean was contracted with, Heaven’s Records. Usually execs didn’t come out to concerts and they left that business to representatives, so this had to be big.

Great.

He suppressed rolling his eyes, popped the tab on his beer, and took a sip.

“That was excellent!” Crowley told him, standing to embrace him. He pointed to a screen that was in the green room, which was now showing the crowd departing. “Caught the whole thing.”

Dean nodded, then addressed his brother, “Sam, you like it?”

Sammy beamed, and also got up to congratulate him with physical affection, clapping his shoulder. “Hell yeah, man!”

Dean got himself a seat across from the exec, and bluntly asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Just enjoying the show, Dean.”

Another sip of his beer.

“Uh huh.”

Zach gave him an uneasy smile, hands clasped before him, leaning forward. “Look, we want to change your contract. Nothing big. Just add a couple more zeros to the paycheck, and with it you gotta make a music video, along with cooperating in some other areas.”

Dean sighed. “Ain’t music videos more the pop industry type deal?”

“You’ve turned rock into the new pop, Dean.”

“Yep, and what’s the catch? You’re not just gonna give me more money for a single music video.”

“We want you to tour. Europe, UK.”

“But?” he prompted, sensing a but.

“But, you have to behave.” Zach stood, taking the beer out of his hands as Dean had been about to drink a great amount of it. He held it up, shaking it. “No more of this.”

“But—”

And now he held out his phone, showing paparazzi photos of Dean making out with a woman on the street. Who was she? Was that that girl Cassie, the one who had a tattoo of his name somewhere, well, interesting?

“No more of this. Crowley’s already told me he’s been working with you on it.”

“What, so I can’t have fun?”

“No,” Zachariah simply stated. “You can’t have fun, Dean. Your kind of fun can lead to mishaps, mistakes, bad press. You’re a label, someone to be marketed. You want to market the bad boy who gets too drunk and punches a reporter?”

“I haven’t done that,” he argued.

“Yet. You want to be the bad boy who sleeps with a fan lying about her age?”

“Or him,” Dean interjected.

“Excuse me?”

Dean stood, getting right in his face. “I’m a person,” Dean yelled. “ A person, you got that? I have vices, and flaws, and wants, and needs.”

“A person, huh?”

Dean glanced around the room, at Sam, at Crowley, eyes big, pleading for help. Sam seemed just as caught off guard and helpless as he was. The best he seemed able to do was to start shouting “objection!” but they both knew he wasn’t going to do that.

“What if I say no?”

“We drop you.”

Dean clenched his jaw, and felt his hands curling into fists. God, was that wall close enough to punch? Soon it didn’t matter because he’d brushed past Zach, and, vision going red, he swept plates of food and bottles of drinks off the table, and then there was a loud noise, numb pressure exploding in his knuckles.

Cheeks flushed, he pulled his hand from the hole in the wall.

“Fuck you!” Dean cried, pointing a finger at him.

“Now, now, Dean, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he asked, getting in his face again. Now Sam was up, arms around Dean to hold him back. Dean didn’t bother fighting him. “Don’t what?”

“Tantrums will get you nowhere.”

“So I quit drinking just like that?” he asked. “And I don’t see people anymore? No dating?”

“None.”

“What about free time, my established relationships, family? Is Sammy getting swept aside with this deal too, huh?”

“Dean,” Sam intoned, voice soothing in his ear.

“What about Lisa and Ben?”

“We won’t touch them if you do what we say. Look, I don’t like to do this, Dean, pretend you’re not someone, but well… you’re not. Who you are doesn’t matter to us. It’s what you can sell. And we want to sell you off as a worshipful, immaculate being, having you ascend above the rockstar stereotypes. Your popularity will burst through the roof. So, you clean up your act, you stay away from fans, you do as we say, and we won’t have a problem.”

Dean shrugged out of Sam’s grip, and went over to Crowley, pointing an accusing finger. “You knew about this.”

“Dean—”

“You knew,” he breathed, voice low, but gritty with emotion. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“I warned you.”

“Well, nice warning, fuckwad.”

“Dean, I will quit if you keep this up.”

Dean stood back, laughing.

Was this really happening? Where had his freedom gone? He just wanted to make music, wanted to make people happy. He didn’t want any of this bullshit. And why all the changes, and why so soon, so fast?

Zachariah set Dean’s beer bottle down, but Dean ignored it, grabbing another one, and drank as much as he could, feeling liquid dribble down his chin. Oh god, that stuff was good. It wasn’t enough to get him buzzing or even numb though. And was blood dripping down his knuckles? They were starting to swell, right hand red, maybe turning a little purple.

Dean finished off half the bottle, and spluttered through his drink.

“Dean, I think you need to sit down,” Sam said, taking him by the shoulders and attempting to maneuver him to a seat.

“Sammy, can they do this?” he asked.

“Of course I can,” Zachariah said, all self-important and pleased. “Paired with a new exec. Michael Edlund.”

Oh god, Dean had heard of him, the fucking Archangel of Music as celebrity fans liked to call him. The bastard didn’t care about people, just cared about stats, and marketing, and money, and having people act to his every whim. Dean wouldn’t even be surprised if there were sex scandals wrapped up in there, kept hidden away since he was oh so clean and immaculate. 

But maybe the worst for Dean was that Michael forced himself to live through his artists, took them over.

Dean let Sam drag him into a chair at that.

He raised his bottle at Crowley, and Zachariah, smiling. “Well, here’s to fucking up my life. Maybe you own me, but I’m gonna fight tooth and nail the whole time. So I agree to this new, fucking stupid contract. Drop off the papers with my assistant, and I’ll even sign with a god damn golden pen. How’s that? I’ll do what you want, but you better believe I’m gonna test the limit.”

Sam pat a comforting hand against Dean’s chest as he continued drinking, feeling angered, embittered tears built up in his eyes.

So long, Dean Winchester, he thought. Here’s to life as an angel condom. May you rest in peace, you son of a bitch.

So he wasn’t out of being controlled. His dad, John was probably smiling up from Hell at that.

He’d better have a good seat down there.

Dean wondered if he would too.

[trashboatprince]

Just a one-shot of a silly idea that came to mind the other day while I was at work.

A trip to Paris to remember a friend from the past leads to an angel and a demon sitting in a cathedral for a chat.

And it takes an awkward plan to get said demon inside of the holy building.

This clearly takes place long before the recent fire at Notre Dame, this is more of just a random little trip during the 90s.

And yes, I tagged it with ship stuff, obvious, but let’s face it, anything I write with Aziraphale and Crowley is always gonna be Ineffable Husbands, even if it’s just implied or hinted at.

On with the fic!

--

Can Demons Sit in Pews?

--

“Paris? Really? Got another desire for the best crepes in the world, angel?”

Aziraphale smiled, despite the obvious jab at a previous action from well over two hundred years ago, turning around to face the approaching demon. His smile faltered into an annoyed pout when Crowley waved his hand, a few meters away a souvenir stand operator suddenly dashed off when an officer just so happened to notice that his items might be counterfeit.

“Now, my dear, was that really necessary?” He asked as he crossed his arms, getting a smirk in return.

“No, but it was funny. So, what are you doing here?”

“I really should be asking you that question, how did you know I was here?”

Crowley gave a shrug. “I always know, and don’t avoid my question.

With a turn, Aziraphale gestured to the large structure he had been strolling towards before he heard the all-too-familiar voice of his oldest companion. Crowley looked at it and pulled a face. “A church.”

“Ah,” The angel smiled, “not just any old church! Notre Dame! One of the most famous cathedrals in all the world!”

“I like the one in Prague better, you know, the one that looks spooky.” Crowley spoke. “Or that one in Cologne, the one that claims to have the bones of the Three Kings and they’re covered in gold and gems.”

Aziraphale huffed. “You’ve never even been inside, you silly fool.”

“Been in one church in all my life, and it was to save you from a stupid death.” The demon replied, missing the look that crossed Aziraphale’s face. That moment was… rather important to the Principality, it was when feelings were made certain for him. He glanced at Crowley, who seemed to be rambling now, having corrected himself.

He had been in more churches, apparently, but they were ones where devil worshippers or demons had found ways to ruin the holiness of them. And nine out of ten, Crowley only ended up there cause some idiot summoned him while drunk.

“Well, while you wander down memory lane of foolish teenagers and dark ‘warlocks’, I shall wander into the cathedral.” Aziraphale spoke up as he turned on his heel, making his way over before he felt long fingers gently grab his shoulder. “Yes, dear?”

“Can I come with?”

This made the angel pause and give the taller man a funny look. “Crowley, did your melted shoes and me anointing your feet for hours to help heal them not make it obvious that you cannot walk on consecrated ground?”

“I think me howling in pain from having to peel my melted shoes and damaged socks off was the clue, or me making a total arse outta myself in front of stupid nazis as I practically tap danced to keep from standing still for too long, but I’d still like to see it. Been so much buzz about it for centuries, and there were all those films that came out about it, even one recently, been wanting to see this place for myself. Plus, it’s a gothic cathedral, that’s got to account for something, right? You know, what with it being demonic looking and the like.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale started, but the demon walked past him towards the entrance. “My dear, I don’t think that’s a very good idea-!”

One foot was on the first step up to the door and Crowley buckled, dropping with a sharp hiss, falling on his back as he clutched his foot. Aziraphale was quick to come to his side, ignoring the looks of Parisians and tourists nearby. “Oh gracious, are you alright?! Did you not realize that this is still Catholic, despite how spooky it looks? It’s going to be a bit worse than a little church in Germany.”

“No shit, angel!” Crowley snapped at him, sitting up and removing his boot and sock, looking at his foot. Aside from the scales, the only thing different about it to a normal person would be what looked like a red sunburn, but to Aziraphale, it was clearly a burn of holy grounds. It had only been a moment for the burn to take place, not like he had stood there for a while, so Aziraphale was able to remove the pain with a snap of his fingers.

“Crowley, maybe you can wander around while I’m inside. I know there is a lovely bakery not too far, and the Seines is nice to drop things on people while on one of the bridges, I’d rather you not suffer.”

“Nope.” He shook his head, putting on his sock. “I’m too curious, it’s in my nature.”

“That it is.” Aziraphale sighed as he looked about, waiting for the man to finish getting his boot back on and to regain his pride from that little display. He spotted a family where a little boy was saying something to his father, who then crouched down, the child climbed up his back. Aziraphale grinned at this before turning his attention to his friend. “My dear, I just had the most brilliant idea for you to get inside!”

“You’ll go inside and draw a satanic symbol on the floor, thus corrupting it for a bit?”

“No! I mean…” He moved, turning his back to Crowley as he rested his knees on the ground. “Climb on my back.”

Crowley just looked at him. “What?”

The angel sighed loudly. “Get on my back, I will hold onto you, and this way you can go inside with no problems.”

“Can you even lift me?”

“Crowley, I am a Principality, I am much stronger than I look. Besides, how many times have I carried your drunken and or sleeping self around while you were practically dead weight?”

The snake demon shrugged. “Alright, but if you complain of back aches later, that’s your fault.” He got up and moved to get on the other’s back, before nearly yelping when Aziraphale suddenly stood up, making Crowley wrap his legs around the other’s stomach, his arms around his shoulders. “Damn, angel! It’s like I weigh nothing to you!”

“I’ve carried stacks of books that weigh more than you ever will, my dear.” Aziraphale said with a bit of smug pride as he walked up the stairs, ignoring more stares from people as he opened the doors.

Crowley’s eyes widened a bit behind his shades as he looked inside. He could sense the Godly blessings of this place, felt a bit like when one touched an old television screen when it was on static, a light tingle under the skin. The inside was massive, beautiful, and made Crowley feel so tiny. He was in a house of God, and it felt wrong, yet… with Aziraphale here, giving him permission, it felt a bit right.

He wasn’t here to cause trouble, his natural curiosity, which got him into the whole demon shtick anyway, was too strong for him to ignore being in here. He hadn’t paid too much attention when he was in that church in 1941, he was too worried about Aziraphale, and the other ones he had wandered into (or were summoned into) were damaged.

Here he was now though, inside of one of Europe’s most famous gothic buildings, kept alive by a writer who didn’t want to see it go to waste in the 1800s.

The demon paused and looked at Aziraphale, who seemed lost in his own thoughts as he walked about, seeming to let Crowley look around from his perch. “Do you wanna take a seat?” He asked the blond, who looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Can you sit on a pew?”

“We’ll find out.”

Aziraphale made his way over to one near the front, a woman stopped him for a moment, asking in English, an American tourist, if his friend was alright.

“Ah,” Aziraphale smiled, “he’s alright, he stepped wrong outside and now his foot hurts, but he didn’t want to wait for it to stop aching.” Crowley nearly groaned out loud at the excuse the other had come up with to explain why he was carrying a grown man on his back.

She seemed to believe the lie, damn curious humans, and Aziraphale stepped away to allow Crowley to take a seat. It wasn’t easy, Crowley didn’t dare put his feet on the ground, it would be ten times worse than it was outside, so he had to step on the pew.

There was no burn, just more of the television static, so it was safe. Who the hell would bless a seat anyway? He sat down, cross-legged, and the angel sat down next to him with a small, content sigh as he looked up at the sight before them. Clearly the back of the cathedral was where the holy men in charge would speak to the masses, under beautiful stain glass, and symbols of God, The Son, and The Holy Ghost.

Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s knee, turning to him to whisper. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, I’ll give your lot’s fan club that. Probably the first demon in history to really appreciate what humans can do when building homes for God. Wonder if She has a favorite somewhere in the world.”

“Lots of them, actually.” Aziraphale replied. “So many have a little something that just makes Her love them more than some others. I don’t blame Her, I can be the same with my books, and I know you are with your plants.”

“You know nothing about me and my plants.” Crowley grumbled, his eyes drifting about. “Speaking of books. We’re here because of Victor, aren’t we?”

Aziraphale blinked, his cheeks suddenly a bit pink from embarrassment. “Yes, uhh… I do try to stop by once a year, to pay my respects.”

“Why not at his grave?”

“Oh, I do, but as an angel, I think the most respect can be paid towards the building he saved from neglect.”

Crowley couldn’t argue with that, so he nodded. Aziraphale had been good friends with the write Victor Hugo, and even Crowley couldn’t deny that he had read through a few of his books, even the ones that could very well be mistaken for bricks. He was rather shocked at how dark The Hunchback of Notre Dame was as a book, young girls being preyed on by creepy older men, a deformed human being treated as a mistake and a monster, a holy man who was doing things that demons were known to influence, dark stuff.

When Victor had died, he remember Aziraphale had spent the day in his shop, just reading away at one of the man’s works. He did go to the funeral, Crowley did not. He had gone back to sleep, seeing as it had been the 1800s and Crowley spent most of it asleep, outside of a few rare times where he couldn’t sleep and pestered humans and Aziraphale.

He had been awake the day the author died, and he just sat with his angel as he quietly mourned in his own way. Aziraphale could be emotional when he wanted to be, but sometimes his more obvious expression of grief was being silent and reading with a frown on his face, Crowley knew his friend all too well. He remembered taking Aziraphale out for dinner that evening, his treat, and they spent the night in the bookshop, toasting wine to humans who have changed things for the better, even in little ways.

“He was an excellent poet and artist.” Crowley spoke softly, hearing Aziraphale hum in agreement. “And apparently a hell of a sex fiend, so many mistresses. His little black book is more infamous than anything he’s ever written.” He deserved the punch to the arm from the angel, but he still got a laugh from Aziraphale.

“Yes, well, he was still a respectful man. He stood for what he believed in, for freedom and liberty, to be one’s self, to stand up for what was right.” Aziraphale replied as he looked at Crowley, there seemed to be something on the man’s face, like there was a weight to his words, a personal one.

“Yeah.” The demon put his hand over the one that rested on his knee. “‘To love is to act’. That was his, seems like a good idea, even if the word love is… meh.” There wasn’t any venom or hate in Crowley’s voice at the last part of his statement, and Aziraphale didn’t comment on it.

“Right, my dear. You are correct, that is his.” A smile came to Aziraphale. “When we’re done here, would you like to go out for lunch? My treat, afterwards, we can do to the Louver. I’d love for you to tell me more silly stories about Da Vinci.”

“Sounds good. Besides, this place is making my limbs feel numb, and that probably means it’s time to go.”

The angel let the demon get on his back once more, walking out as they discussed where would the best place for lunch was and if Crowley should be allowed to make loud, lewd jokes about naked people in religious art when they got to the museum.

END

--

Originally, this was just an excuse to write the hilarious mental image of Aziraphale taking Crowley into a church on his back, but I did a bit of research of Victor Hugo and found the quote and damnit, I had to throw that in.

(Also, yes, he was a hell of a womanizer and every brothel in Paris closed for his funeral cause a lot of ladies attended).

Thanks for reading

(this is also posted on ao3, under the same title and by me, RiYuYami and I really need to change that name lol)

[ain-t-bovvered]

15X01

bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

Hello and welcome:

@purpleskiesandcherrypies​  (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon​  (Kat)  

@waywardbaby​  (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered  (Giulia)

Giulia: I HATE THIS

Giulia: BTW

Giulia: IF ANYONE WAS CURIOUS

Kat: Don’t worry you’ll hate it more later

Giulia: GREAT

Zee: Quit flapping your gums bitches

Nat : shall I count?

Giulia: Go when u post 🖕🏻

Nat : lol

Zee: Nice

Nat : i just go with GO

Giulia: Weak

Nat : ok

Nat : listen

Nat : 3

Nat : 2

Nat : 1

Nat : GO

Giulia: GREAT MUSIC

AH Y’ALL DON’T LISTEN TO THE LYRICS OF THIS SONG

Zee: Where’s carry on ?

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Think of seasons that must end ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ 

Nat : I DON'T REMEMBER HALF OF WHAT THEY SHOW NOW.  It's erased from my memory

Giulia: look at my stupid baby

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ They will rise and fall again ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ 

Giulia: Oh look the dumb coffin

Nat : "I do believe in us."

Zee: John

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Everything must have an end ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Giulia: I DIDN T NEED JOHN AGAIN

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Take it calmly and serene ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

BITCH HOW

Giulia: bye mary.Good riddance

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ It's the famous final scene ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Zee: Maybe I should watch on mute

Kat: Shut up chuck

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ It's been coming on so long You were just the last to know ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Zee: The fuck is this song ?

It's been a long time since you've smiled

Giulia: IDK I HATE IT

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Seems like oh so long ago Now the stage has all been set ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Giulia: bb Sob ....Them hair on fleek tho

Nat : What are the odds

Zee: BAMF Cas

Giulia: Idk seems so desperate

Kat: Always

Nat : So much grunting. So sexy

Giulia: AWE

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Now the lines have all been read And you knew them all by heart ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Kat: SAM

Kat: DEAN

Zee: He took jack

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ Here it comes the hardest part Try the handle of the road ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Kat: over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes

ok I now it’s a serious moment but Dean skipping with his birb bowlegs is making me cackle so much i cannot

LOOK AT HIM ....*SNORTS*

oh look another meme

Giulia: Sam just casually shoving a ghost out of the way

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ As the light fades from the screen From the famous final scene ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

Zee: Ok

Zee: I hate it

Giulia: OH THAT TITLE CARD

Nat : Ah great title card

ok but ....* slows down frames and saves some of them* WHAT’S THIS

Whatever let’s just go back to more pressing matters

Lol that is so not Misha carrying Jack tho

Giulia: Misha’s fingers be that thick

Zee: Focus

Giulia: Lol dean reaching for that booze, I mean SAME.

Nat : AW CAS

Giulia: Awe SAM

Zee: Sam panting

D: He didn’t deserve this

Kat: Aw

S: Cass, is he here? C- C-Can you... Can you...?

Giulia: SAM 

Nat : "I don't think so"

Nat : I cry

Giulia: I CRY

Giulia: Sam’s pain is physical

Giulia: I cannot

I mean,...they do look like zombies. 

D: Chuck... He said, "Welcome to the End”.  What... What does that mean?

Zee: Welcome to the end

D: Cass? Come on, man! Ideas!

Team free Stress

Giulia: It means final season

D: Can you smite our way out of here?

Zee: Cas squint

C: No. You saw them. I would be overwhelmed, Dean.

Well I honestly thought Dean actually asked if Cas could fly them off there....which...well don’t think it can happen if the state of his wings are the same, BUT STILL, we don’t actually know becasue PLOTHOLES. But whatever man, I still love my show.

D: Great. So we go outside, we get ripped apart. We stay in here, w- what, starve to death?!

C: I wouldn’t starve

Nat : WELL GOOD FOR YOU

Giulia: WeLl gOoD fOr yOu

Kat: Love the sass

D: Son of a bitch

the fandom:  * CHEERS*

Giulia: Sure he knew

D: He's always so squirrelly, you know, with the...with the... the robe and the beard and...the smile that's, like, half-nice, half "I'm gonna rip your throat out. "

Giulia: Oh that true

Nat : Aw Dean

Giulia: AHAHAHA

Giulia: DEAN’s SALTY AF

Nat : Me

Zee: Those fingers tho

Giulia: Why don t they let cas do that, come on

Nat : So much grunting and panting in the first couple of minutes

Nat : I love it

Giulia: Gotta isolate just those

Nat: Cas doesn't want to help

Giulia: Nice

Nat : AH well

Zee: Hello

Giulia: …

Giulia: WELL HELLO GOOD MORNING TO ME

Nat : Now he did

a wild Jack appears

Nat : Ah

Zee: What?

Nat : what

Kat: Hahahahahaha

Giulia: JESUS CHRIST

Nat : IN THE HELL

Giulia: the fuck

Kat: Demon!Jack

Giulia: OH COME ON

Nat : AW DEMON JACK

d!Jack: HELLO

S: Jack! you are alive

oh Sam...baby

Zee: Shut up

d!Jack: I- I'd do the whole eyes thing, but, uh, yeah, no eyes.

Nat : WITH SASS

Team free confused

Zee: Blending

Kat: Weekend at Bernie’s haha

Giulia: SO GOOD THO

Nat : Nice glasses

C: Get out of him

Zee: What he said

d!Jack : Okay? Uh, where do I start? Like at the first day of school. Uh, hi.Uh, my name is Belphegor. And, I'm, uh, here from...

Angry Cass approaching

C: i said get out of him. I’m not gonna ask again

me: 

D: Cass. Let him speak.

C: He's an abomination!

Giulia: AWE CAS

Nat : Cas is having none of it

B: You're an abomination with that stupid, dumb trench coat.

Kat: You’re an abomination with that trenchcoat 🤣

Zee: I love Cas

Giulia: but also love Alex

Giulia: STUPID DUMB TRENCHCOAT

Zee: Listen to your husband Cas

C: He is defiling Jack's corpse!

D: But if he can help... [angrily] Jack's gone, alright?

Giulia: STOP IT DEAN

Giulia: sob

S: So we are...

B: The Winchesters

Nat : "I read the papers" lol

B: Anyway, I'm guessing this whole, uh, Hellmouth thing is kind of, uh, you?

i MEAN HE’S NOT WRONG

C: No. It was God.

B: Okay, okay. Look. I-I'm not some crossroad demon. I'm not even one of those black-eyed goons

Giulia: Who the fuck are u

Nat : Virgin puppies  EW

Nat : TwinSiEs

Nat : snorts

Giulia: We are NOT twinsies

Cas is ready to slap a bitch

Giulia: So strange seeing jack like that tho

Nat : But so good

Zee: He be good

B: Ohh. Little spell. You know, nothing major. Just need some graveyard dirt... and some, uh, angel blood.

Giulia: Yeah, of course, let s use cas again

*Snort* .... he’s so offeded

WHAT A MOOD

Nat : what

Giulia: What he do

Nat : WHAT

Giulia: Really

Nat : who is that

Nat: HOW

Giulia: Oh come on

Giulia: I DONT TRUST THIS

Nat : ME NEITHER HIGH FIVE

Giulia: TOO EASY

B: Hey it worked! High five

Giulia: WHAT

Nat : I'LL PUNCH YOU

Well I wouldn’t want to be the graveyard guys in the morning

Nat : Ah that music

Zee: Future deaths

Nat : Ah bloody mary

Giulia: “oH mY gOd” Who still does that anyway

Nat : Bloody Mary messes with cellphones now

Giulia: A bitch gotta get on with the future

Giulia: Those nails be nasty

Nat : Mhh...  She's more evil than before I would guess

B: I mean, come on. I look good.

Giulia: That cas squint

Giulia: Yeah Cas does not like

Nat : Cas is suspicious

Nat : They act like they're surprised about 2-3billion souls in hell

Kat: I was surprised the number was that low

B: Imagine a salt circle a mile wide No ghosts get in, no ghosts get out.

S: Yeah. Great. Okay.

C: NO. That town... Harlan, Kansas...is less than a mile from the cemetery.

D: Then we get everybody out.

C: How?

D: WE LIE

Giulia: what else is nee

Giulia: Nee

Giulia: New

Nat : lol

Zee: New

Nat : Nee

Giulia: Great Another typo that will hunt us all

Giulia: Why this time the blood looks fake af

Nat : That my car

Zee: Woman in white

S: Dean, this could be our woman in white.

D: Dude. We sent her to Hell years ago.

S:Yeah, but she could be back.

Nat : Dean just realized

D: Well, if she's back, then they're all back. Every last one that we ever killed.

Giulia: I also just realized that we are seeing them again. My babies. I hugged those bitches S.  O. B

Nat : Aw bb

Kat: Lucky you

Zee: Giuls bb. Shut the fuck up please

I must say tho....that must have felt really depressing for them...I mean..all their work just ...puff....

Giulia: Fuck clows

Nat : Ah no

Giulia: Fuck them

Nat : Stupid clowns

Giulia: Fuck off

Giulia: Drive the fucking car into the door

Nat : Wouldn't get through.

Kat: No keys

Nat : Not enough space to fully accelerate

Zee: So much science

Giulia: Ugh true

Zee: Wtf is sam’s hair?

D: We can handle the evac, so why don't you grab Crowley Jr. here whatever he needs for his spell?

C: NO

D: 

Well he didn’t expect that 

C: Dean, I can't. I-I...I can't even look at him.

Giulia: AWE CAS

Nat : Aw Cas

Giulia: AWE AWEEEEEE

Giulia: IM HURT.IM BADLY HURT

C: Um... I...

Awe I think even Dean expected that reaction from Cas. I’m so hurt y’all....so hurt.

WHAT ARE THOSE ROLLING EYES DEAN JFC

Giulia: that sheriff a bit out of it

Kat: Small town. Probably doesn’t have to do much

Nat : Jack probably has his own agenda. "Jack"

Giulia: Yeah

Belphy seeing the gun with that ridiculous nerd name: um....what’s that?

D: Don’t worry about it

B: ok cool

B: So, people are, like, crazy good-looking now, eh?

D: what

B: I mean, the last time I was on Earth, I mean, I was human. Ah, it was a while ago. I mean, but, you know, we were all worshipping308 this giant rock that looked like a huge penis, and...

Giulia: Wait what

Kat: Huge penis rock

Giulia: thank you

B: Anyway, folks back then, they were, uh, ugly. You know? Had a lot of humps. I mean, a lot.

B:  Look at 'em now.

D: 

B:I mean, look at you . I mean, you're, uh, you know, gorgeous

Giulia: HE IS

ALL OF US : WE KNOW

Nat : GET THE FUCK IN LINE FAKE JACK

Kat: BEHIND ME

B: So, uh...who was... he, anyway? 

D: He was our kid. Kinda.

Zee: Our kid

Giulia: OMG NO SOB

Nat: I cry

Zee: Shut up dean

Kat: OUR KID

Giulia: IM SO HURT

D: Alright. So, what do you need for this spell?

B: you know, nothing much. Big bag of salt.

D: Easy

B: And a... And a human heart.

Giulia: a human heart

Nat : what else ,easy

Kat: OF COURSE

Giulia: CAS LOOKS YUMMY YUUUUUMMY

Kat: OF COURSE

Giulia: LOOK AT HIM

Nat : Giuls people are dying

Giulia: HEWWO

Zee: And thicc

Nat : "insert Kim K gif"

Giulia: WELL AT LEAST THEY HAVE A NICE THING TO LOOK AT

Giulia: Nice thic, tan things

Giulia: With great hair

Giulia: Nice eyes

Giulia: I should focus

Nat : Cas saw?

Zee: Yeah

Giulia: So thic

Kat: Aw poor dead girls

Nat : GIULS FOCUS

Giulia: That shirt is crying for mercy

Giulia: Yeah yeah Sorry

Giulia: *keeps looking at those pecs*

Giulia: NO SAM WITH KIDS IM WEAK

Zee: Sam should stop exhaling like that

Nat : NO

Kat: Jared is 4 times the size of that kid

Giulia: STOP HURTING HIM

Kat: Yeah

Zee: Yeah bitch

Giulia: YAS CAS

Kat: I KNOW

Nat : Did Sam treat his bullet wound tho

Giulia: Probably just patched up

Giulia: angel with a shotgun

I love when Cas take care of Sam...so soft.

Nat : that's not a big bag of salt, Dean

D: Rowena, we need your help, so move your ass. What? No, I'm not...Move your exquisite ass, please.

Zee: Exquisite ass

Kat: EXQUISITE ASS PLEASE

Giulia: MOVE YOUR EXQUISITE ASS

D: Here’s your salt

US: Thanks we have plenty 

B: im a fan

Giulia: NO

Zee: Oh no bitch

Zee: NO

B: Yeah, I-I didn't want to say it in front of the other guys,but when you were in Hell, with Alastair, I, uh... I got a chance to watch you work. And, I mean, the things you did to those people, I mean, it wasn't torture. 

Kat: FUCKING ASSHOLE DEMON

Nat : OH NO

Giulia: BAD CHOICE OF WORDS

Giulia: FUCK

Nat : IT WAS ART

Kat: iT waS ArT

Giulia: Is it bad that I wanna watch that tho

Zee: WATCH WHAT?

Nat : YES

Giulia: DEAN’S “ART”

Zee: Wtf is wrong with you ?

B: And then every door in Hell just sprang open all at once.

D: Wait. Every door? Even the Cage?

Nat : Even the cage

Nat : OH NO

D: And Michael?

B: Well, last I heard, he was just sittin' there. Yeah, but if he got out, I mean... Ugh.

Giulia: Lol ADAM

B: I mean...he wouldn't hold a grudge, right?

Giulia: *SNORTS* SURE

Nat : Ah that looks nasty

Kat: YALL WATCH CAREFULLY COMING UP

Zee: Can I love Cas in this ep?

Giulia: Oh cas can mend shirt too

Nat : SNORTS

Nat : WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Nat : Ah

Giulia: i don t like what is going on

Kat: JUST WATCH

Zee: Fuck

Nat : I HATE THIS KAT

Giulia: WHAT

Nat : AH NO

Giulia: NO

Nat : SHIT WHAT

Kat: I TOLD YOU

Giulia: WHAT WAS THAT

Nat : WHAT IS GOING ON

Nat : EVIL SAM IS IN THAT WOUND

But let us take a blurred , closer, look tho: 

*GASPS*

THAT’S THIC BEARD DEAN

YUM

those are definitely black eyes. 

WHAT IS GOING OOOOOOOOOOON

Giulia: Oh I remember that clock, leave a comment if you do too.

Nat : btw All the ghosts don't look very scary

Kat: All these ghosts look old af

Zee: Them bow legs

Giulia: Look at that strut

Kat: Fresh would be better lol

B: cOOL

Giulia: Zee’s that u

Casually punching a hole into someone chest to rip a heart out

Giulia: Got a heart

Nat : WHAT

Kat: Damn fake Jack

Zee: Get away kid

Nat : YOU DON'T SAY

Nat : GOOD FOR YOU

Giulia: Oh the lake ghost

Giulia: Oh ya RUN BB RUN

Kat: That kid is too calm

Zee: It’s not ok

Giulia: it s noooot

Nat : No, he didn't

Nat : Sam did

Zee: You shot me

Giulia: SNORTSP

Kat: You shot me 🤣🤣

Kat: Bad ghost bad

Giulia: Well that was scary

Nat : Stop hurting Sam

Zee: STOP HURTING SAM

Giulia: OH LOOK I LOVE CAS WITH THE SHOTGUN

Zee: WE BEEN KNEW

Nat : OF COURSE YOU DO

Giulia: AWE HE S SAVING SAM

Nat : The ghosts all look weird af

Giulia: True

Kat: They are 15 years older okay

Giulia: Must be the daylight

Zee: I don’t trust jack

Giulia: well is not jack

Giulia: AWE

Nat : AH HE IS FAST HE HAS LONG LEGS

Giulia: I’m worried about Misha's hip

Zee: Shut up

Giulia: Shut up

Kat: AAAAAHHHHH SHUT UP

Giulia: Good gif to use

Nat : he said it like Stepford Sam

Kat: MMHHMM

Giulia: Right?

Giulia: Listen to that PUR

Kat: SO GOOD

Giulia: the angel thing

Nat : So 4 people fit in the back

Nat : lol

Giulia: GOOD TO KNOW

Nat : Ah, not sexual

Zee: Or two horizontal ones

Kat: Well one is a small child

Giulia: Me and Nat are small child size

Nat : Yes

D:  You okay?

C: Yes, but...

Giulia: UGH

Nat : lol

B: Wow! Awkward WANNA TALK ABOUT IT

Zee: Is that a no?

Nat : LISTEN TO HIM DEAN

Zee: That’s a no

Kat: Ooohhh they so pissed

Giulia: SO PISSED

Giulia: SO TENSE

Nat : SO HOT

Giulia: THEY SHOULD RELAX

Giulia: I JUST HAPPEN TO KNOW HOW

Giulia: what

D: Right now we get you fixed up.

S: what

Nat : I'M FINE

Giulia: Yeah open that shirt

Nat : Do you hear that

Nat : FIIIIIINNNEEEEEEE

D: We've been going nonstop. Let me see it.

D: There's no exit wound.

Giulia: DON T TALK LIKE THAT

Nat : Yeah, sure Jan

D: Hey, do you remember when we were little? What I would do to distract you whenever I'd rip off a Band-Aid or something like that?

S: Yeah. You'd tell some stupid joke.

Kat: Omg such a soft moment

Nat : Aw

Nat : Don't come up with old stories now. I'll cry

D: Come on. Knock, knock.

S: Who's...*HISSING*

D: Still got it

Kat: My boys 😭

Nat : It's Jensen face

The little shit face 

Giulia: Well I don t see white foam

Nat : Are you surprised?

Zee: My god

D: Just when we thought we had a choice. You know, whenever we thought we had free will. We were just rats in a maze. Sure, we could go left. Sure, we could go right. But we were still in the damn maze. Just makes you think, if all of it... you know, everything that we've done...What did it even mean?

S: It meant a lot. We still saved people.

D: Yeah, but what for? You know?  Just so he could throw another End of the World at us and then sit back and chug popcorn?

Giulia: I wanna chug popcorn

Nat : Yeah, ya did Sam

Nat : But I get Dean

Zee: Sam still believes

S: But now he’s gone

Nat : YA THINK

S: He gets bored and... and... and... and pulls the ripcord.I mean, that's what he did with Apocalypse World and... and probably with all of them. He moves on, starts another story. But you know what?

Giulia: GOOD

S: For the first time. It's just us.

Zee: What’s one more apocalypse right?

Giulia: 

“What’s one more apocalypse right?” -shit that SPN fans says

S: When we win this, God's gone There's no one to screw with us. There's no more maze. It's just us. And we're free.

D: So you and me versus every soul in Hell? I like those odds.

D: Well, you know what that means.

S: We got work to do.

Giulia: WHAT

Giulia: ALREADY

Nat : WHAT

Zee: Why is it over ?

Giulia: ...it flew

Kat: Hehehe

Nat : FINISHED?

Nat : EH

Nat : WAIT WAS THAT 40 MINUTES ALREADY

Kat: That end though

Giulia: ...what

Nat : What

Giulia: What happened

Kat: The throwback

Zee: Yeah it was

Giulia: what trip was that

Zee: I just exhaled

Nat : What was that

Giulia: WE VE GOT WORK TO DO

Giulia: That was so fast

Kat: SOBA

Giulia: TRAILER

Nat : I hate them

Zee: Oh come on

Nat : i am watching trailer now

Giulia: EH NOTHING MUCH

Kat: Yeah

Nat : LOL I KNOW AS MUCH AS I DID BEFORE

Kat: WHAT

Nat : WTF

Kat: IT’S OVER

Nat : I am not overly impressed

Nat : Dean didn’t finish his knock knock joke

Nat : I’m sangry

.

Next -----> 15x02  "Raising Hell"

.

.

.SO ...that was our last first episode screening, ever....GREAT.

If you want to get tagged send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

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[creativenicocorner]

5, 10, 19?

Aaay! Thank you so much!! @dreamcrow

5. What’s a crackship you love?

As a crack ship gfdkgsd oh man, my heart is set on Blinky/Strickler on that one ahaha. I already adore whatever dynamics they have together on screen - or even when referencing one another!! And honestly I think they’d make great friends!! Heck they could bond on Roman pennies, and mechanical engineering (seeing as Blinky helped build Jim’s Vespa, and Strickler made a super accurate replica of Merlin’s amulet) and don’e get me started on the quick witted beautiful back and forth they’d have

Once tried writing a Good Omens AU with all this in mind, but never quite had the energy to finish it. Let’s face is the two of them have great Aziraphale / Crowley energy haha  

10. Mutual pining or enemies to friends to lovers?

Oh man oh man, mutual pining. It leaves so much potential open!! Heck even the enemies to friends to lovers could happen within the umbrella of mutual pining (especially if one of the two isn’t ready to admit to their pining -wink- ) 

That and I’m just a sucker for two people being so equally into one another but just, not quite having the confidence to learn how the other feels. It’s so juicy and can be played oh so deliciously in so many fun ways!

19. What’s your favorite character head canon?

Weeeell there’s certainly one HC I’ve been hinting at for quite some time and have been meaning to make a proper post about - but here is what I’d like to call the Meat and Potatoes (super lean edition) of the Etruscan Strickler HC ヽ(o♡o)/

(please keep in mind I’m not a qualified historian, or anthropologist, or archeologist - but an avid lover of history )

So the Etruscans and the peoples of Etruria have been around for a loooong time, in fact there are some who believe the Etruscan language is one of the building blocks of many italic languages. And for a good amount of centuries they thrived! 

Then Rome happened, which was perhaps inevitable seeing as they were on the same peninsula - and because of that the size of Etruria changed depending on which century map you’re looking at. And although at some point Etruria spanned from Umbria to just grazing into the region of Lazio - its biggest consistent chunk existed in what we know today as modern Tuscany.

Because of this I should perhaps make it clear that I believe Strickler came out through the fetch after 32BCE during the already decline of the Etruscan language (in which Etruria is already absorbed and occupied by the Roman Empire). In fact by then only a select few, unless they were Etruscan, knew the language Marcus Terentius Varro for example, the Roman Emperor Claudius (though he probably learned it from his first wife, Plautia Urgulanilla who is believed to be Etruscan).

Now I hear what you’re probably thinking: But his/ his familiar’s name is Waltolomew Strickler? That’s not very Latin sounding for a name. 

 And you’re absolutely right!

However, Etruscans (despite occupation and absorption into the Roman Empire - and more so before) were known to be seafaring, trade was very important from Egypt to what we know today as the Greek islands and to the northern coast. Import and export was important and (as well as fighting pirates, but that’s a very fun wiki rabbit hole to fall through another time haha), and with trade comes awesome exposure to other cultures and other peoples from that culture! 

Case in point the vague similarities and non similarities between certain deities between the Roman Greek and Etruscan Pantheon! Of course each pantheon has its own variants and deities that don’t exist in another pantheon, as well as different takes on certain heroes i.e the Greek Heracles, and the Etruscan Hercle -which through a lot of found art, is perceived to be a very popular hero for a number of reasons. 

I could also go into the account of Etruscan soothsayers being well praised even by Cicero - but that’s another rabbit hole for another time - as well as a reason I like to indulge in the fact that Strickler can come across as rather superstitious at times! 

But I’m getting off topic XP TRADE we’re talking about trade, and it was important be it Egypt to the Balkans 

And with that in mind it isn’t impossible for a Northern Germanic man to fall in love with an Etruscan woman.  

1) women were treated far better in Etruria, as opposed to Rome and Athens. In fact Romans thought they were more promiscuous because of how freely and equally they were treated. 

 2) Germanic tribes treated their woman on a similar level of equality. 

 3)   As a culture of partnership, heck we are still discovering more and more about the Etruscans but we can make educated guesses through their sarcophagus covers (the reclining lovers and so on). This celebration of life lived even in the face of death. 

Very on brand Strickler imo, and if we from history can see how they treated marriage in death we can assume how marriage was treated in life. As loving and equal as possible. In short Strickler grew up with that respecting women juice (at least compared to Roman and Athenian standards) 

So name wise, Waltolomew Strickler can come from the Norther Father’s name. Vel for short, as names beginning with ‘w’ aren’t very common in Latin, Etruscan, or Italian. In fact if you go to Italy today and introduce yourself as idk, William -  there’s a good chance they’ll pronounce William as [Vee-lee-am]. 

However in Latin the use of ‘v’ often replaces the ‘w’ and ‘u’ sounds. u = v and a double u = vv (aaay get it?) And just like that a VValtolomevv is named haha

Enter the name Vel slowly over time becoming Walt over time. I could go on for paragraphs, but I know I explained the whole congnomen thing in Terpsichore, I’d have to re-check and I fear this is already getting…ah…crazy long so I’ll try and wrap it up ^^’’

Initially the real Waltolomew was supposed to be left in the woods to die at the mercy of nature because it didn’t look like the infant wouldn’t survive anyways, but when they went back to check in the woods to find who we know as Strickler the host family Strickler saw it nothing short than an auspicious miracle of the gods, or that their child managed to strike a deal with Vanth (a death god), there’s a lot of theories between the family members to try and explain how Walter’s survival is possible - but all the same Waltolomew is raised in a rather loving family!  

There’s the quiet and slightly distant Northern Father (who is occasionally homesick) and mainly tends to the olive grove. The Mother that settles the finances. The Uncle that runs shipptrades and sells the family olive oil. And, of course, The Grandmother who is very proud of living Etruria thank you very much, openly mocking romans, quick with an opinion, morally gray, with a sparkle of mischief - and someone who pretty much elbowed her way into the very serious child Waltolomew’s heart in such a way the changeling wasn’t sure if she knew his secret or even cared! 

Eventually Roman payments became too steep, the Northern Father racked up a bit of debt and was sent into the army…the Northern Father never returns presumed dead in action. The resentment of Romans grows even more in the Strickler household because of this. 

Which is one of the reasons why later in life Stricklander chooses to occasionally pass as ‘British’ aka one of the peoples the Romans couldn’t occupy and conquer, as opposed to siding with a people who absorbed the population of his home peninsula that would later be known as Italy.

 In fact I believe after being forced to work at Hadrian’s wall (which was a laughable failure, although as a Cesare Hadrian was well praised), and returning to find his host family home repossessed by Romans Walter would flee to Gaul (another location where Romans couldn’t conquer).

It wouldn’t be long until the Romans called on a 13 ½ year old Waltolomew to enter into the military just in time for the Hadrian’s Wall debacle. Where Waltolomew grows a respect for the peoples of the British isles for being able to hold off Rome for so long and so much. Afterwards he returns to the peninsula to find his home repossessed by Romans, his grandmother having passed, and his mother and uncle closer to the port and not doing so hot. This spurns Strickler’s dislike for Romans more, an incident occurs, and Waltolomew flees to Gaul (another area famous for being able to hold off the Romans), but this time to join the Gumm-Gumms 

More on that another time cause ooo boy this is a long response XP I’m sorry this got so out of hand!! 

I wanted to add my thoughts as to why and how I came to the conclusion of this HC but like I said this response is crazy long already so I’ll keep it short (for now) to: That classic ‘Roman Nose profile’ of his, the pale olive skin tone, the vague roman/greek helmet he has in his office, how his Italian VA did not do an English accent in the dub, and - uh, well, I like the idea of it haha

Oh! And here’s a picture of a supermarket outside of Sarteano named ‘Etrusco’ Look at that lil face! It probably doesn’t mean much, but it does spark joy haha

Thank you so much for your questions!! I deeply appreciate it!!♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) 

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.10: “Nihilism”

THEN: Michael. Gadreel! Poughkeepsie! Jack dying. Jack’s soul. You didn’t think to question? Snap!

NOW: We open on a bar scene, complete with a passed-out drunk in a hoodie. I notice the moose head immediately, but The Husband is the one who pointed out to me that there was also a taxidermied squirrel holding a beer. This is Rocky’s Bar, guys! As in Rocky the Flying Squirrel.

Hey, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!

The door opens and it takes me a minute to recognize the woman who enters as Pamela Barnes, neither blind nor dead (and also not having aged at all in ten years, damn her), wearing a shirt that says to hell and back. It’s raining, and she complains that people are shopping like it’s the end times. I feel you, Pamela. I hate it when we get a snow prediction and everyone has to go make the run on bread and milk. She produces a bag of limes and we see it’s Dean behind the bar. Ah, so this is where the mystery bar flashback in 14.09 came from! He needs the limes for his house special, a shot of tequila and a beer.

(Sidebar: A tequila drinker, I’m not. I could go for a whiskey, which is normally Dean’s drink of choice. You know when we last saw him drink tequila? I haven’t noticed it since he was a demon, threatening to rip Sam’s throat out. With his teeth.)

Pamela asks about Sam, and Dean tells her he’s still on a ghoul hunt with Cas, but should be home tonight. A woman in a suit comes in, continuing a conversation in which she attempts to buy Dean’s bar. I wonder if she’s a Scooby Doo shady real estate type? He assures her it’s still not for sale. “This bar? I’ve never had anything this nice,” he says. {sob!}

There’s a lot of interesting Easter eggs in this bar beyond the moose and squirrel. The Impala’s original Kansas tag. “Daphne loves Fred” carved into the bar. (Even in the bar of his dreams, Dean can’t hook up with Daphne.) A neon “Texas Star” sign. An anime calendar in the office. Probably more things that I haven’t caught.

Later, Dean’s at a desk going over paperwork. Pamela comes in with a couple of shotglasses. They banter and drink and they’re adorable, and then she brings up selling the bar and he says “Sell this bar? This is my dream.” (duh duh duuuuuhhh!) Then we see him in the walk-in refrigerator. Pamela calls him out because they’ve trouble - it’s a werewolf, or one of Michael’s werepire hybrids, coming to settle a score because the Winchesters killed his entire nest. Turns out Unconscious Hoodie Guy (who I halfway expected to be Sam) is his buddy. They attack, but Dean wins easily. As Pamela wipes the blood off his pretty pretty face, she comments on the monsters who keep coming in to kill him. “What can I say?” he grins. “I’m famous.”

Title card!

Hitomi Plaza. “Now, this just feels right,” Michael!Dean says. He’s inexplicably wearing a suit now. Did Dean’s clothes change into a suit when Michael snapped his fingers? He does something painful to TFW and gives a monologue about hope, explaining that he saw every single thing they did (through Dean’s eyes, thanks to his “open door”). While he talks, Sam is getting something out of his pocket. Cas lunges at Michael, apparently to provide a distraction while Sam makes a little molotov cocktail of holy oil and tosses it at Michael. While the archangel is preoccupied, Cas snaps the magic handcuffs on him. I guess whatever Bobby did to juice them up actually worked.

(Sidebar: I covered the names of the guest stars on first watch, as you do, but now I see the name Thunderbird Dinwiddie? Originally Pamela’s actress went by Traci. Did she change her name after that, or has she always been named Thunderbird and Traci was her nickname?)

Sam pleads with Dean to come out and take over, but it doesn’t work. And suddenly we hear a lot of sirens outside. Oh yeah, Michael’s monster army. Sam’s phone rings - it’s Maggie. She rounded up every hunter she could find and they’re getting reports of monsters attacking, but to infect, not to kill. So, Maggie’s in charge. Huh. Okay. I mean, not the choice I would have made, but. Okay.

Sam’s plan is to take Michael downstairs and put him in the trunk of the Impala. “But Garth is in the trunk,” Jack points out. “It’s a big trunk,” Sam says. Oh, god. I laughed at that. I’m not proud.

Suddenly we hear monsters slavering at the door. Jack jams it shut with the broken Testicle Spear, and Cas holds it with angelic powers, but they don’t have any other way out of the penthouse. “It’s not like any of us can fly,” Jack says. “Well, one of us can,” says Michael. “Shut up,” Sam snaps. Oh god. I laughed again.

Jack asks Sam “are we going to die here?” and poor Sam looks so distressed and Michael just smirks but then Sam gets an idea and yells for Jessica. You know, his own personal reaper. He knows she’s watching. The reaper who shows up is an unfamiliar one named Violet. “It’s my shift. We have shifts now because you mess up so, so many things.” Bless you, Violet. Sam asks her for help, and she is just full of emotional support but not much else. Jack and Cas are confused, because they can’t see her. But Michael can. He tells her that in his world, they locked Death away and enslaved the reapers, and she’s all, aren’t you a creepy one. At first she says she wouldn’t help them even if she could, but then she seems to get a message from elsewhere, and them boom, they’re in the bunker.

I would have broken all the rules to rescue this poor distressed cinnamon roll. ALL THE RULES.

Sam asks how she did that, and she says “I didn’t. Have fun.” And she’s gone. And I’m thinking wait, the Impala is still in Kansas City, and Garth is still in the trunk. This is not good.

Later. Jack asks if Michael should be in the dungeon, and Sam says that if the cuffs won’t hold him, the dungeon won’t either. “I can hear you,” Michael points out. They move six feet away. “Really?” Yeah, I’m enjoying Jensen as Michael, finally.

Sam explains to Jack and Cas that when he was possessed by Gadreel, the angel created a dream world inside his head. (Apparently someone told Jack the story of Gadreel, because he’s following right along.) And Crowley was able to come in and tell him how to kick Gadreel out. But Crowley’s dead. Oooooh, is De Facto King of Hell Sam going to call up a minion and have them break into Dean’s head? (And why does Sam suspect Dean is in a dream world in the first place, since 1. Michael didn’t do that the first time he possessed him, and b. Michael wants Dean to see his world destroyed, in order to crush him. Discuss.)

Maggie calls again and says they’re almost at Hitomi Plaza, even though Sam specifically told her not to go there. He asks her to get Garth out of the trunk (oh, good, but please warn her that he’s been Michaelized and he’s going to attack them, and also, have someone drive the car back to the bunker!) and she tells him the monsters have stopped attacking and are all heading west.

“Remind me, Castiel,” Michael says, all smooth and evil. “We’re west of Kansas City now?” Why, yes, they are. A 4 hour 22 minute drive. Cas is, oddly enough, surprised that Michael is bringing his monster crew to the bunker, and gathers Jack to “lock it down.”

(Sidebar: Remember when we first found out about the bunker, and it was supposed to be completely impenetrable? Ha ha ha.)

“Yes, put a chair against the door, that’ll help” says Michael. Dang, I really like this snide little bastard. He tells Sam that nothing has changed. “Tonight, everybody dies. And Sam, the last thing you’ll see, is this pretty smile, as I rip you apart.”

(WITH MY TEETH?)

Next we see Sam rolling out a bit of equipemnt. “It’s the messed-up British Men of Letters thing they use to get inside people’s heads,” he tells Cas. Oh Sam, throwing your technical jargon around. But I do feel compelled to point out that this wasn’t a BMoL thing. Toni found it in the bunker. Americans are messed up too, Sammy. Sam thinks if he can get into Dean’s head, like Crowley did, he might be able to get him to expell Michael.

Back at Rocky’s Bar, Pamela asks, again, if Dean has heard from Sam. And Dean replies, again, that he’s “working that ghoul thing in Wichita with Cas,” but they should be home tonight. They drink again, the wannabe bar buyer comes in again, they fight the monsters again, later, rinse, repeat. After a few rounds of this, Dean says he’s having “some serious deja vu.” I bet you are, sweetie.

Back at the bunker, Jack is alone with Michael. Michael says he’s insulted that a nothing like Jack has been left to guard him, and I honestly don’t think it was such a good idea either. He starts playing mind games with Jack, telling him that Dean didn’t care when he died, “because you’re not Sam.” And yes, he could have stopped right there and I would have been happy, but he continues. “You’re not Cas. You’re a new burden that he was handed. You’re a weak, helpless thing.” Boy, I hope none of that influences Jack later!

Cas calls him away and tells him not to believe anything Michael says, because he’s lying. “No I’m not, and I can still hear you,” Michael says, to my delight. Jack is clearly affected by the conversation and stomps off.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Lebanon, Maggie and her crew (Maggie’s crew, for fuck’s sake; there really isn’t anyone better to lead this group?) get a call saying some monsters have broken through and are on their way. Her inspirational speech is “Sam needs our help,” and okay, maybe she’s got this under control after all, because that’s enough for me. A van pulls up and Team Maggie points their guns at it.

Bunker. Michael is working on Cas now, telling him that his own version of Castiel wouldn’t have been so “anemic.” Yeah, well, I killed your Castiel, he says. No, he doesn’t, but he should. Instead, he brings up loyalty and compassion, which is basically saying here, Michael, here is what’s important to me, use it against me. He tells Cas he wants to destroy their world “because I can,” and then reveals that he and Lucifer thought God would come back to them when they fought, but nothing happened. And now, with Dean’s memories, he knows why.

God, Chuck, is a writer. And like all writers, he churns out draft after draft. My world, this world, nothing but failed drafts. And when he realizes that they’re flawed, he moves on and tries again.

No, that’s not… why would he do that?

Because he doesn’t care! About you, me, anything. Now, at first I thought I’d do it better. Show him. Be more god than God. But now? I just want to burn everyone of his little worlds until I catch up to the old man.

And then what?

Even God can die.

I’ve got to confess, I like this. We’ve never had any motivation for Michael’s destructiveness, but this? Destroying his father’s works because he’s angry over being abandoned? This actually works pretty well for me. It’s not new (it was Lucifer’s M.O. too, wasn’t it?) and it doesn’t really explain why Michael set out to destroy this world before he accessed Dean’s memories, but I like it.

(Sidebar: I’m also horrified, because does that mean the characters in my unfinished fics feel the same way? Because there are so many of them. Are they wandering around, lost and sad, saying Someday the Goddess will return and tell us whether we were supposed to burn this monster’s carcass at night or during the day, and someday Sam will actually leave the ER bay and get his MRI, and all questions will be answered, and until then we wait and pray? And are they eventually going to get angry enough to rise up against me and destroy all my other unfinished fics? And then me?)

Yep. This is how you die.

Outskirts. Team Maggie approaches the van and finds it empty. Because everybody got out while all of Team Maggie was watching them? Someone named Tiger runs into the woods following some tracks, ignoring Maggie’s feeble instructions not to go into the woods CHASING MONSTERS WHO WILL TURN YOU INTO A MONSTER alone. This won’t end well. Tiger returns and says the monsters are now on foot and no one says “cool, Tiger, but I think we’re gonna test you with silver just to be sure, ‘kay?”

(Sidebar: Would Sam or Dean have thought to test Tiger? Discuss. Personally, I think they would have, unless the plot required that they didn’t.)

Bunker. Sam’s fiddling with the Messed-Up BMoL AMoL Thing (oh, he’s soldering, and why is that sexy?)

It’s because Sam’s doing it, and he’s using his big Sam hands.

Jack asks if it will work, and Sam is honest and says he doesn’t know. Jack suggests that he might be able to do something using the magic that keeps him alive.

Burn off your soul?

Not all of it.

Jack. Dean wouldn’t want to be saved. Not that way.

You don’t know what you’re walking into.

Last time he was possessed, he said it felt like he was drowning. This time…

What?

Probably be worse.

Yes, it should be worse. Whatever Michael is doing to Dean right now should be SO MUCH WORSE than feeling like he was drowning. Or, it should be just letting him watch through Michael’s eyes. Either of those would make a lot of sense.

You know what else would make sense? Sam saying “I’ve been without a soul, and this is what it’s like, and I don’t want you to risk it.” But okay.

Michael sits quietly as Cas applies the apparatus to his head, so I guess he’s not only angel-powerless, but human-powerless as well. Or he’s just enjoying the science project, which he gives “a solid B minus.” Oh, poor Sam. I’m sure it would be an A if he graded on a curve. Sam’s wired up as well, and Cas clutches him to “hitch a ride.”

Jack asks what he should do, and Cas tells him to pray. Which I guess is something an angel would say, but come on, Cas. You know what to expect from that. Sam adds that he should make sure no one kills them. So, you know, no pressure. Michael points out that he’s not chained up inside Dean’s head, and Sam’s adorably concerned. And off they go.

The inside of Dean’s mind actually looks a lot like The Empty. Cas does a glowy thing with his hand and looks for him, and while he can’t see anything, he can hear all of Dean’s bad memories. And there are a lot of them. “So much trauma in Dean’s mind,” Cas says. “So many scars.” He says if he knew what he was looking for, he could go to it, but since he doesn’t know, he has to wade through all of Dean’s bad memories.

Well, we’ve already got this set, so…

Wait, says Sam. Would Michael bury Dean in trauma? Because Dean thrives on trauma. He suggests that if Michael wanted to distract him, he’d give him something he’s never had before - contentment. So Cas starts scanning Dean’s good memories, and Sam hears one he doesn’t recognize. “This bar? I’ve never had anything this nice.” That’s got to be it; the one that never happened. Yay Sam! Cas does the glowy eyes and boom, they’re in Rocky’s Bar.

“Hey, there they are,” Dean says cheerfully. “Kill a ghoul, get a beer.” The beer tap proudly advertises FB Beer Company (as in Family Business, Jensen’s brewery) and the names of the beers (Cosmic Cowboy and Fox Rye) are so prominent that I suspect they are actually Family Business Beers.

“I’ve got this great IPA from Austin,” Dean says, and okay, we’ve gone past the clever nod and wink and are in a full-blown advertisement, I think. Then the angel Anael/Sister Jo walks in and says “Oh, that’s a great brewery, and they have tours and a playground for the kids.” (NO, NOT REALLY.)

Sam and Cas are both stunned when Pamela walks in, neither blind nor dead, and Sam tells Dean that none of this is real. When he mentions Michael, Dean and Pamela disappear, because it’s time for the drinking-in-the-office portion of this recurring dream. They watch Dean go through the drinking and the walk-in and the monster-killing, with Dean and Pamela not remembering any of it. Sam reminds him that Pamela was blinded, and Dean gets a flashback of that event. When it ends, Dream!Pamela is blind, complete with her freaky white contacts. “You can thank Feathers here for that one,” she says, although it was actually completely her fault. He told her not to look. The music goes all slow and distorted and Sam says Pamela’s not just blind, she’s dead, and Dean flashes back to that too.

Dean fights it, but then Sam says Poughkeepsie and it all comes back. “I remember,” Dean says. “I remember everything.”

And you know I love Sam being the one to get through to him, but it’s not like Poughkeepsie is some magic spell. It’s just a code word for “drop everything and run,” and it only worked with Gadreel because it was coming from someone other than Dean. If Dean had doubted this was actually Sam, it probably would have been effective. But it wouldn’t have triggered Dean’s memories like that in this situation. I appreciate that they took the time to remind us that you can be oblivious in your own mind, inside a dream world, but that’s not what’s happening here. Gadreel created the dream world for Sam. Dean created this one on his own. And what does that say about Michael’s plan to crush Dean by forcing him to witness the horror Michael was wreaking on his world? I think it says we decided to back off from that. Because if Michael wanted Dean to witness what happened when he snapped his fingers, why would he allow him to hide in his dream bar?

Whatever. (handwave!)

So much pretty in this scene, especially Sam’s blood-splattered throat {blows a kiss to director Amanda Tapping} and Dean doing that THING with his TONGUE behind his TEETH, mmmm, yes.

Pamela disappears, and there’s a slow clap from the other side of the bar. Uh oh. Michael’s here! Dean orders him out, but Michael says he doesn’t really mean that. He says Dean only feels responsibility toward Cas because “he’s the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition, or whatever,” and he does that in a robotic Castiel imitation AND I LOVE IT. He also claims Dean was happiest when Sam left for Stanford. “You don’t even like them,” he says. “They’re not your family, they’re your responsibilities. They’re a weight around your neck.” Well, that would have been more effective if you hadn’t told us in the previous episode that Dean was too squirmy because he loves Sam (and Cas and Jack and whatever but Sam).

However, Cas suddenly realizes Michael is stalling. Oooh, why would he be doing that? Maybe because it’s been 4 hours and 22 minutes since everyone left Kansas City. Maggie and her crew arrive to find Sam and Cas still hooked up to the Messed-Up Thing, unable to help defend the bunker. She tells Tiger to lock the door and instructs everyone else to get ready to shoot. I’m thinking I’d have been outside the bunker, rather than waiting to defend it until the monsters get inside, but I don’t have Maggie’s awesome leadership skills.

Inside Dean’s head, TFW figures out that Michael doesn’t have any angelic powers. No problem, he’ll crush them with his bare hands. They fight karate movie style, with one person attacking Michael at a time. In the bunker, Michael smiles happily, because inside Dean’s head, he’s winning. Oh, and the monsters are here. And Tiger didn’t lock the door because he’s a monster now, DUH MAGGIE. The monsters come in and Jack watches the hunters get pummelled and finally he puts out his hand and gets glowy yellow eyes and yells NO and they all disintegrate. But it obviously took a lot out of him.

Back to Dean’s head. Michael says they clearly haven’t thought this through, because if Dean does manage to eject him, “you’ll be nothing but blood and bone.” This stops him for a second, but then he says “then we don’t kick him out; we keep him in.” He shoves Michael into the walk-in and jams the handle. “My mind, my rules,” he says. “I got him. I’m the cage.” Oooooh!!!!

Aftermath! Maggie tells Sam that the monsters have all gone their separate ways without Michael’s control. She says she didn’t know Jack could still do angel magic, and Sam looks away in distress and says “I didn’t either.” In the kitchen, Cas is lecturing Jack, telling him that using the magic burns away his soul. Jack claims it was an accident, and Cas would have been killed. Cas says it doesn’t matter because he’s doomed anyway, remember? (NO HE DOESN’T.) He tells Jack that he’s seen what happens when you lose your soul, and it’s not pretty. (I mean, it’s very pretty. It’s sexy as hell.) Jack promises it won’t happen again. I’m pretty sure he’s lying.

In his bedroom, Dean does some angsty mirror-gazing while Michael bangs and screams inside the walk-in in his mind. “It’s just you,” he tells himself. “It’s all you.” (OH CRAP the last time Dean said “it’s all you” was right after he tried to brain Sam with a hammer and WHY DOES THIS EPISODE KEEP REMINDING ME OF DEMON!DEAN???)

Then we hear a familiar voice - it’s Billie! “I did say I’d see you again soon,” she says, and DAMN THEY REMEMBERED THAT. GOOD. She does a little “told you so,” reminding him that she warned him about the dangers of jumping between worlds. He thinks it was worth it, but oh, guess what? You know that library with all the Dean Winchester deathfic? Well, all of those books have been rewritten. Now they all end with Michael escaping and using Dean as his vessel to destroy our world. Dean asks how she even knows that, did she re-read all of them, and she says here, look at my AO3 tags, look how every single fic in this series has the exact same tags and there’s no more mauled by ghouls or death by taco or tw: cannibalism. (NO SHE DOESN’T SAY THAT.)

What she does say is there’s one story that hasn’t been written over as Michael!Dean destroys the world. She hands it to Dean and he opens it and reads it and goes from anxious to confused to horrified.

What am I supposed to do with this?

That’s up to you.

He looks at the book again and then looks up with tears in his eyes, but Billie is gone.

WELL.

None of this is okay.

(Sidebar: Someone in the writer’s room really liked Infinity War, didn’t they? The last episode had the Finger Snap of Doom, and now we’ve got Dr. Strange’s every iteration of this ends with us losing, except one, and that’s not really a good one either. Maybe next week, Ant Man will show up outside the bunker.)

Wow. Once again, I’m surprised to say I really like this. My knee-jerk reaction was that the one good ending required Dean to die. But no, he wouldn’t react that way to his own death. This is something else. This is someone else. This is something horrible happening to someone he loves. What, and who? Sam is an obvious guess. They’ve been reminding us lately that Dean loves him (IN CASE YOU FORGOT, HA HA.) And there’s Cas, but Cas has his own issues. Or Jack? They’ve been hitting us with that relationship too. Mary, even? If this something awful turns out to be the way to get rid of Mary, I’m cool with that. (Jack, not so much.)

It’s hard not to think it’s Sam, though. It’s hard to imagine Dean’s immediate reaction being such horror (and grief?) for anyone other than Sam. Someone else, he’d be angry. He’d be in denial.

I’m sure I’m wrong. They probably even spoiled it in the previews for next week. (WHICH I DID NOT WATCH. PLEASE HELP ME REMAIN UNSPOILED.)

[huntertales]

Part Two: You Can Bet on It. (What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?)

Episode Summary: Kevin Tran talks the Winchesters and the reader in checking on his mother. When they arrive and discover Crowley has surrounded her with demons, they rescue her and take her along their quest to find the demon tablet. However, they soon discover Mrs. Tran is a mother not to be tested after she tries to go up against the king of hell herself. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,097.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It wasn't too hard to find the location of the pawn shop Dean threatened out of Clem to find out where he sold off the tablet he wrongfully stole, along with whatever else he managed to grab from those lockers. The shop was nestled into a row of others in town not too far from where the bus station was located. Dean parked the Impala against the sidewalk and right behind a fancy looking sports car that was probably worth way more than the house you hadn’t been to in years now that you thought about it. Personally, you were more of a fan to older model cars, but you had to admit the cherry red Ferrari was a sight to see. Especially in a small town like this one in Wyoming when one would expect to see them more in the Hollywood hills.

You let out a low whistle in appreciation at the model as Kevin found himself pulled into a trance at the sight of the car. He took a few steps forward to take a closer inspection out of it, Mrs. Tran called out to her son, pulling him back into reality as she nodded her head to the pawn shop. A car like this was like a beautiful woman; you could look all you want, but if you dare so touch it, there would be consequences. All of you headed into the pawn shop to see a man behind the counter. He was playing on his phone with his feet up on the counter, obviously hard at work.

“Hello, sir. Agents Neil, Sixx and Hill. FBI.” Sam introduced the three of you as he pulled out his fake badge to show the kid behind the counter. “We’re looking for a tablet.”

"About, uh, yea big," Dean gestured with his hands the rough size of the tablet to give the kid some idea of what all of you were looking for. "Got some hieroglyphic crap on it."

“Sold to you by a thief named Clem.” Sam added. “Ring a bell?”

The kid shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Nope.”

You rolled your eyes from his nonchalant behavior and how quick he was to answer you. It was obvious he didn’t want to think too much about giving all of you some information, thinking he could attempt and cover his ass. But Dean wasn’t in the mood. “Hey, Lyle, I’m had a really, really bad day today, so I’m not in the mood to dilly dally.” Dean said. He leaned forward and pressed his hand against the glass to appear somewhat threatening. “If you want to do this the rough way, I am happy to oblige.”

“Sure. We can do it that way, if you want to get famous.” The kid said. You furrowed your brow from what he meant. When he looked over his shoulder and nodded his head to the two security cameras around the store, you knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“That your car outside?” Mrs. Tran spoke up, asking the kid a simple question.

“What’s it to you, mail-order?” The kid’s response made your blood boil in anger.

"Hey, scumbag!" You slapped your palm against the glass counter, directing his attention over to you. "A few security cameras don't scare me. I'll break right them right after I break your jaw and arms. I mean, it would be kinda hard to tell the cops a girl beat your sexist and racist ass with your mouth wired shut.”

"I got it." Mrs. Tran said, stopping you from fulfilling your promise. She walked up to the counter, showing you and the boys that not every situation required threats to get what you wanted. Sometimes brains won in this kind of situation. "I noticed you're driving with expired tags, maybe because you just acquired it in a trade, and I'm guessing that means you haven't registered it yet, which means you haven't paid the tax. Is that correct?"

The kid kicked his feet off the table and pushed himself up to a standing position. You noticed he seemed surprised at what she said, even a little bit afraid  about how spot on she was. “None of your business.”

"Kevin," Mrs. Tran looked over her shoulder and asked her son a question. "Average blue book on a 2010 Ferrari F430 Spider?"

"Two hundred and seventeen thousand dollars." Kevin answered.

“And the five percent Wyoming tax?” She asked.

"Ten thousand and eight hundred fifty." Sam somehow made the calculation in his hand in the matter of seconds, answering the woman before her son could. You found yourself wincing at the intimidating amount of numbers flying around here, making you feel sorry for the reality the poor sucker was about to face if any of this spilled to the real FBI.

“Ten thousand dollars. Something tells me you’re the type of person who might balk at a tax bill that big.” Mrs. Tran said, the ends of her lips curling into a smirk.

“W-What is this,” The kid asked. “An FBI audit?”

“No. But my brother, who happens to work for the Wyoming tax assessor's office could arrange that if he thought something untoward was happening here.” Mrs. Tran said. She continued on speaking, not missing a beat to drag out the information from the kid from the question she asked him. “So what’s it going to be—the tablet or that piece of euro trash crap you call a car?”

You crossed your arms over your chest when the kid fell awfully silent. You raised your brow as he contemplated the choices he had that you given him, and what he could do to get out of them for the spite of it. But you could tell from the look on his face that he knew he was cornered with no way out.

“You heard the woman.” You said. “Cough up the location, punk.”

The kid unwillingly did so to save his ass from paying a fine you knew he couldn’t pay. You left the pawn shop with a friendly smile after you snatched the receipt out of his hands. Maybe having Mrs. Tran around wouldn't be so bad, after all. She didn't cower at the sight of that kid being a jerk to her, and she sure was smart enough to think quick on her toes. Not to mention, she saved you and the boys from getting yourselves in trouble from doing things the illegal way. All of you piled back into the Impala and headed to the location written on the receipt. You were getting a little bit more hopeful with the idea that you were getting closer to the tablet. And one step closer to closing the gates of hell forever.

+ + +

Motel room number one-twenty six. You stood on the parking lot with your arms crossed over your chest as you waited while Sam knocked on the front door of the room where the tablet was supposed to be located. You looked around the place to see it was fairly quiet for the afternoon, there was nobody around except for the five of you. Sam waited for a moment to see if he could hear any movement in the room as your attention lingered over to the window to see if you could spot a pair of eyes peeking out the curtain to see who was disturbing them. But all remained still and silent.

“Sure this is the right place?” Sam asked, seeming a bit skeptical at location the kid gave you.

“It’s what the pawn slip says.” You told him.

Sam still wasn't too sure about that being true, so he decided to see for himself what was inside the motel room. He slipped his hand inside his pocket to pull out his lock pick to grant all of you access inside. However before he could even get it out of his jacket pocket, you heard an unfamiliar voice speak from behind, grabbing your attention. "Kevin?"

You turned around in your spot to see an older gentleman wearing an ensemble that looked a little out of place for this kind of scenery. You narrowed your eyes on him when you noticed his pinstripe gray suit was paired with a matching colored top hat and wooden cane he used to talk with. You dropped your arms to your hips, placing them where you kept the demon knife tucked away, just in case if you might need it use it on him. The boys seemed just as cautious at the sight of a stranger showing up out of nowhere.

“Who wants to know?” Dean asked, stepping down from the sidewalk and to the parking lot.

“Oh, relax, Dean. I’m not going to steal your prophet.” The stranger reassured the man. But you had your doubts on that. He turned his attention away from the older Winchester and the woman standing next to Kevin. The man’s lips stretched into a smile at the sight of her. “Ah. And you must be Kevin’s mother. Beau. And it is my absolute pleasure.”

"God," You rolled your eyes in annoyance when you saw Beau introduced himself to Mrs. Tran in the most over the top way possible. He reached out to lift up her hand to give the top of her hand a light kiss. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"And Kevin, imagine my luck. Here I was, working so hard to look for you that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me."  Beau said. You narrowed your eyes when you saw him slip a hand inside his suit pocket, making you fear for the worst. You found yourself reaching for the demon knife out of habit. You asked him what it was. He pulled out what appeared to be a crisp white invitation with the prophet’s name written on it. “An invitation, dear lady, to an exclusive auction.”

“Let me guess,” Dean said. “Where you’ll be selling the tablet?”

“Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the word of God, it’s smart to unload it as fast a possible.” Beau explained himself to you and the boys’ judging glares “And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight’s gala.”

“Well, I hope you have four extra tickets to your little eBay party, ‘cause the prophet’s with us.” Dean said, stopping the stranger from taking Kevin anywhere.

“Oh if you’re worried about the safety of your prophet, rest assured we have a strict ‘no casting, no cursing, no supernaturally flicking the three of you against the wall for the fun of it.’ policy” Beau reassured you and the boys.

“Is that right?” Sam asked. “How’d you manage that?”

"Well, I am the right hand of a God, after all—Plutus, specifically." Beau said, his lips stretching into a smirk as he bragged about his title to the five of you humans.

“Is that even a planet anymore?” Dean let out a scoff, thinking it was something much different from the sound of a name.

“It’s the god of greed.” Beau corrected the man. It seemed from the expression on his face he wasn’t the least bit amused. “And my liege has warned these premises against hell, heaven and beyond—quite necessary with some of the players we see. And incidentally, quite possibly the safest place your precious prophet could be. Mm. Well, since time is of the essence, perhaps I’ll just go ahead and add a plus-four to the prophet’s invitation. Copacetic?”

Beau flung the invitation straight into the air, letting his trick distract all of you long enough for him to vanish into sight before the envelope fell to the ground. You quickly looked up when you noticed that he was gone. He was a smooth talker, you'd give him that. "Well, thank you, Mr. Peanut!" Dean yelled out in frustration. You dropped your hands to your side and let out a sigh. "All right. What do we have to bid?"

"Let me brush off the other word of God I've got in the trunk." You said, pointing a finger over your shoulder. "Along with the other precious artifacts we don’t have.”

“We can’t just show up there empty-handed.” Dean said, his tone of voice showing you he wasn’t in the mood for your sarcasm right now.

“Dean, all we have to our names ia few hacked gold cards.” Sam said, bursting his brother’s idea of trying to go up against a few heavy hitters that were bound to have some items that were well worth the trade for the tablet.

“All right. Well, then, we’re gonna have to get creative.” Dean suggested. You thought to yourself for a moment about what could possibly be worth bidding. You thought about possibly bidding off the demon knife, as it was a one of a kind piece. However Sam had a suggestion for an item that was meaningful to all of you. The very thing that had been through a lot of things in her decades of existence. You noticed that he was staring at the Impala, prompting you to realize that he was about to suggest about auctioning the car. Dean promptly shook his head as he went straight over to Baby, defending her. “Nope. Mnh-mnh. Say it and I will kill you, your children and your grandchildren.”

"Okay, okay. Before you two idiots murder each other, I got an idea. Don't these auctions display the items to the bidders beforehand, right?" You wondered, Dean nodded his head. "So all we got to do is get Kevin close enough to memorize the spell."

“What do you think, Brainiac?” Dean asked the kid. “Think you can swing it?”

“Of course he can swing it.” Mrs. Tran said with confidence. “If the bumper stickers on my previa mean anything.”

The plan was worth a shot to try, as it was really the only one you had anymore at this point. Dean turned his attention over to the Impala as he rubbed his hand across the hood, as if he was trying to comfort the emotions of an inanimate object. "They didn't mean it, Baby."

"You know, sometimes I wonder if you love that car more than me." You said. Dean looked over at you to see that you were standing right next to him with an arched brow, waiting for him to say that you were being crazy. However Dean remained silent for a moment, prompting you to let out a sigh. "You know what—Don't answer that. Let's just go."

+ + +

You weren't sure what you were expecting the location of the supernatural bidding of the tablet would be held. Maybe something fancy, maybe even a decent space where you didn’t have to worry about what was crawling around the place or what kind of mold was growing between the cracks of the stones. Of course it had to be just that, downtown in an abandoned warehouse from the looks of it. Nothing could ever be nice and clean. You stepped into the warehouse after a man dressed in a black suit opened up the door for you.

It was then you discovered the metal detector all of you needed to step through in order to be granted access to the auction. You knew if you wanted to be apart of this you needed to come here without a single weapon on you. Not that you were exactly pleased with the idea. You were a little more concerned about setting it off with the metal pieces in your body. You still had the faint scar from the surgery you had to put your arm back together. All though Cas put you back together into one piece, you weren't sure if he got out everything. There was one way to find out. You stepped through the metal detector after Sam, waiting to hear the thing go off. But when you stepped out the other side, it beeped once, making you let out a sigh of relief.

Dean wasn’t lucky as you were. When the older Winchester stepped into the detector, he went with a slow and cautious step, as if doing so would help his case. But as he stepped out to the other side, the alarm went off, making you and the others realize he made the dumb decision of coming here with some extra accessories that weren't allowed. You let out a sigh of frustration as you shot him annoyed glare. Dean smiled slightly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Now, now, Dean.” Beau stepped forward to greet the older Winchester and remind him of the rules that applied to all of you as well. “The system only works when everyone participates.”

Dean wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of playing along with the rules of this place. Being stuck in a place crawling with monsters and no weapon to defend himself felt wrong. But if he wanted to stick around, he would have to give everything up. He unwillingly placed his pistol into the bin with other confiscated weapons and took out the demon knife from his jacket pocket. He held it for a moment, knowing out of all of the weapons you owned, this was the most powerful one. The guard grew impatient and reached out a hand to grab it from the man. Dean drew it back to give the man a warning that it was his, and his to keep.

“I’ll be back for this.” Dean told the man. And with those words, he set the knife into the bin with the rest of the weapons where it would remain until the end of the auction.

All of you headed into the auction now that you were cleared to do so. You looked around the place to see it was filled with all sorts of artifacts and items from mythology. People of all kinds gawked at the items at what soon would be up for grabs. You scanned the people with a bit of curiosity, wondering what kind of creatures you were surrounded with. Most of the time you were trying to kill them, it was sort of a nicer pace to be able to be in a place where they were fighting against each other for whatever item they were willing to get their greedy hands on. All you knew was that the tablet was yours. No matter how much it cost, you needed to get it back.

“How the hell are we supposed to know who’s who?” Dean quietly asked, looking around the room himself to see all sorts of people that appeared to be harmless. But there was more than meets the eye with these kind of folks.

“It’s pretty simple, Dean.” You said. “They’re all monsters.”

You focused less on the people you were surrounded with and now trying to find the tablet. You walked around the place and mindlessly spotted all sorts of different objects you would have loved to examine if the situation was different. Now you were focused on trying to find the tablet before time ran out. Dean was the one who spotted it. You saw the tablet in a glass display for anyone to see. However someone was one step ahead of you. You could feel your fist clench in anger when you noticed a black piece of board was covering each side of the tablet, making it near impossible for Kevin to read. There went your brilliant plan.

“I guess we’re not as original as we thought.” Kevin muttered in a defeated tone.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sam said. “We just got to come up with a plan ‘b.’”

“And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan ‘a’?” As if you thought this moment couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, it could have. You flinched at the familiar accent ring into your ears and right behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see it was the king of hell himself, Crowley. Your lips stretched into a frown at the sight of him alone. “Bring the prophet to the most dangerous place on earth, memorize the tablet and then va-moose?”

"Crowley." You greeted the demon, speaking his name as if it was poison on your tongue. "Look what the cat dragged in."

The demon barely made an effort to acknowledge your presence before turning his attention over to the person he most wanted to see. "Kevin. What a pleasure to see you. Sorry about your little playdate. Her name...Well, if you're gonna make an omelet, sometimes you have to break some spines." Crowley said, excusing his previous behavior with a shrug of the shoulder. You scoffed at how easy it was for someone like him to wash the blood off his hands after killing an innocent person. But you didn't expect much out of something like him. Crowley turned his attention to Mrs. Tran, as she was a face he had never got to formally meet before. "And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister."

Mrs. Tran might have been a tiny woman for her height, but she sure knew how to pack a punch. You didn't realize what she had done until you saw Crowley's head turn into an unpleasant angle and he let out what sounded to be a bit of a groan. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you saw him tend to his bloody lip the woman had given the king of hell. "Stay away from my son." She warned him.

“Charming. Defiling he corpse has just made number one of my to-do list.” Crowley said. You narrowed your eyes on the demon at his subtle threat while Dean took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to give Crowley more than just a punch. But before he could do such a thing, his brother held him back. “Don’t mind a little love tap, but anything more, and our mookie pals here might just throw you out, and that would be a shame.”

"He's right, Dean." Sam unwillingly agreed with the demon. "It's not worth it."

“Listen to Moose, Squirrel.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes from his remark alone as your attention was pulled away from him and to the front door when you heard it open and close. You noticed an older looking man wearing what seemed to be a white tracksuit passed you by. “Ah. Here comes our host.”

“That’s Plutus?” Dean asked, watching the man pass by all of you to take his spot at the front of the room. “What is he, God of the candy aisle?”

You had to admit he wasn’t what you were expecting to be when you heard he was the god of greed. You were thinking he’d be a little bit more flashy in flaunting his wealth and greed. Guess you were wrong on that one. Beau followed behind the man. “Gentlemen,” He reminded the five of you. “The auction is starting.”

“Good luck with the bidding.” Crowley said.

You forced yourself to give him a sarcastic smile before turning on your heels to walk over to the auction before things got started. When you saw the demon was far enough away from you, you looked over at Mrs. Tran and gave her a genuine smile at what she managed to do.

“Nice right hook.” You whispered.

Mrs. Tran seemed proud of herself at the compliment you gave her. The both of you headed off with Sam and Kevin to find a spot for all of you to take. You managed to find an empty row of chairs for all of you to take. However you noticed that Dean wasn't anywhere near all of you. You leaned over slightly while you stood over the chair you claimed as your own next to Sam, wondering where his brother was. You looked through the thinning crowd of people and spotted him talking to some kid wearing a red and white striped uniform. You furrowed your brow slightly at who he was talking to, wondering who it was.

The conversation seemed to drift to an end a moment later. You watched as the kid walked over to where the rest of the crowd to take a seat in the very back, but Dean remained where he was. You let out a sigh when you saw him lose himself into focusing on a spot in the room. The same look you had seen before in the interrogation room fell over his face, making you wonder if he was thinking about purgatory again.

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[lexiecarver]

Needful Things

Pairing: Crowley x Reader (how shocking, I know. :) )

Word Count: 2,844

A/N: This was written for @kittenofdoomage’s Classic Movie Quotes Challenge with the prompt, “Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” This was also written for @chelsea072498’s birthday challenge with the prompts; caramels, the number 37 and a stranger arrives claiming to have the fix to the main character’s problems. Happy b-day, hun. Hope you have an awesome one. Here’s some Crowley fluff with a few sexy scenes but no actual erotica. Xoxo-Lexie.                              Also on A03

Italics= thoughts and telepathic communication

You hated these things but they’d talk more if you didn’t go. You hated hobnobbing with all the people you hated in high school especially since you weren’t super successful and didn’t have a family. You knew they would throw all their accomplishments in your face the second you got through the door. You decided to don your favorite black dress so at least you’d look good. You went in there head held high. The sound of your high heels clicked on the gym floor as you walked to the check-in desk. Taking a deep calming breath you look up at the woman behind the desk smiling back at her.

“Name please.”

Off to a great start.

“Y/N.”

“Oh, my god. Yes. Of course. Wow, you’ve changed.”

Yeah, I look like a stone cold fox. Thanks, bitch. Yeah, too snotty.

“I know I look amazing, don’t I? Cute top.”

Yep, perfect note.

The girl stared up at you angrily. Yeah, Missy always hated it when people called her clothes, “cute.” She nearly shoved the nametag into your hand. You took it with a smile on your face and headed to your table. Of course, you would be seated next to all your former bullies because the universe is just like that. As you approached the table, you noticed a strange man in a nicely tailored suit with a dark gray paisley tie. Actually, if you were being honest with yourself, he was fucking gorgeous and boy did you want him right here under the bleachers. You gulped and smiled at the table. You sat down next to him. A seat was actually free right next to him. Maybe the universe wasn’t so bad after all. You gave him a nervous smile and he smirked at you. Fuck, that smirk spoke volumes and then he opened his mouth.

"I’m Crowley.“

You heard yourself telling him your name but honestly, you don’t remember doing it. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were totally enthralled by this stranger.

He had an accent. It was British. Holy fuck. He wasn’t a student here. You would have remembered a British student. So that meant he was someone’s date. Fuck.

“He’s actually my brother, “ the woman next to Crowley said,

Your cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. She must have said that in reference to you. Were you being that obvious? Oh, man. And wait a minute – did she just read your mind? The woman and Crowley shared a glance. An obnoxious blonde next to you became a bit jealous of your vicinity to the handsome stranger and decided to speak with you.  Her voice was annoyingly high-pitched.

“Are you really at our table. Who are you?”

“Rude much Monica? It’s Y/N. Surely you remember me?”

“Oh yeah, the different kid always spending time alone thinking you were better than us. Huh. Wonder where you got that dress? You must be doing well for yourself. No ring on your finger?”

“Why does a woman need a man to define her?”

“Quite right,” Crowley added. He smiled against his whiskey glass.

“Only asked if you’re single.”

“What a scathing comeback. Tell me, homecoming Queen, two things. One, where’s your ring and two haven’t you grown up? We’re not in high school anymore.”

“I’m engaged. The ring is in the shop. It was a bit smaller than we thought. Grow up? I am grown up. Duh, I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations, then.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to make it. They don’t accept your kind there.”

“Excuse me?”

“Cheap -.”

“I suggest you don’t finish that sentence, Monica was it?

Crowley nearly growled. She held his gaze and then something about him terrified her because she slipped back into her chair.

"Don’t listen to her, love. You’re special. I can see it. The way you carry yourself, the way you wear that dress, the way you think. You are a class above these peons. I just wish you believed it.”

You fought hard to not react. No one had ever told you that before. I mean, you told yourself that but for someone else to see what you saw about yourself – and wait he was in your mind again.

You slowly turned your head to him and he smirked.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy”.

“So that’s a yes.”

He turned to you and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. His eyes roved over your face, focusing on your lips. You unconsciously licked them. His tongue dove out of his mouth to lick his own lips. Then he turned his head back to the conversation.

The woman Crowley came with started talking to Stu. She seemed to cozy up to him.

“Nice jersey.”

"Thanks. I really love football but since my injury, I can’t play anymore. My favorite player’s jersey is number 37. Best team ever – the Chicago Bulls and Callahan, Bryce is the best player.

"Sports are so overrated don’t you think?”

“Totally, ” you said smiling back at Crowley.

Crowley put one of his hands on yours. He stroked the top of it while he smiled at you before he took your hand in his. “His sister,” looked tense but he nodded her off.

“You look gorgeous in that dress. It hugs all your-.”

“I have no idea how you’re talking to me in my mind right now. But stop it. You came with-.”

“How I wish I was on your arm…I could-.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Is she daydreaming?”

“OMG. She was always doing that in class. So distracting. One hot guy and she’s lost.”

Crowley growled. Fucking growled at the insult. You could have sworn his eyes flashed red. His sister placed her hand on his.

“Why don’t we stop sniping at each other and play a fun game instead. Who’s with me?”

Everyone was jumping at the chance but something about her made you hesitate.

“How about we go around the room and each list things we would desperately want.”

“I’ll go first. I want you to get a life.”

Crowley stared at the girl white knuckling the table. He desperately wanted to kill her but he needed her to make a wish first. His trainee was nervous that the King of the Crossroads was so angry. He must like the human sitting next to him. But why? Y/N was just a human, nothing special. But the whole thing was above her pay grade so she quickly forgot it.

“Monica. I told you before to stop. We need everyone to list things.”

“We can fix all your problems. Just wish them away.”

“Fine. I’d like money. Lots of it and all the finer things in life. Oh, and if we’re talking fantasies how about a famous actor as a husband. That would be amazing.”

“What happened to your fiancé?”

“Please, I’d be marrying a star. Upgrade.”

"Uh, I’d want to relive my glory days and play football again obviously.”

“Knowledge – like I want to know everything. Have a lot of degrees and spend my time writing academic papers.”

Monica rolled her eyes. Crowley looked bored with the wishes waiting anxiously to see what you would ask for.

“I’d like a creative job that pays well.”

“Oh, how about this one: I can eat anything I want and stay a size 2.”

“And you, Y/N, what would you like?” All eyes were on you and honestly, it was a little daunting.

“Nothing. Just a good happy, healthy life.”

“There has to be something you want even if it’s something small.”

“Go on dear. I’m intrigued to hear what you’d like. I can offer so many things. I can fix all your problems,” Crowley offered.

You were starting to get uneasy. Crowley and the woman next to him sounded like pushy salespeople but what the hell were they selling? That was really the question.

“Um… Ok. A man who will love me for me and for a title. Mrs, the best…., mom, something just a title and a happy life. Basically, a life that’s my own and a place where I feel I belong.”

Crowley was impressed by your wish. You were such a fascinating creature. You were gorgeous, great at witty repartee, unique and not materialistic. You asked for love and a title. How innocent. Selling her soul for love. There’s something so bittersweet about that.

“Love you for you? I can do that. That isn’t a problem dear. I can fix everyone’s problems in a heartbeat. Everything comes with a price though.”

“You could-.”

“I take people as they are. No sense in changing them. Though I wonder why that is such a problem for you… hiding anything? Kinky? Dark? Why wouldn’t they love you for you?”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”

“And go where?”

You see Crowley walk around the table, pulling your chair out forcefully and pulling you to his chest. His hands wind around your hair and he kisses you passionately. You can taste the whiskey on his breath. Feel his cock slowly grinding against your clothed core. “

You gasp, trying to cover a moan that desperately wanted to come out. No one has seemed to notice. Crowley is curiously sitting in the chair next to you like he never moved. It must have been in your head. You feel a warm breath on your back and feel someone nibbling your ear. A hand reaches down your body into your panties to rub on your clit and then just as suddenly it’s gone. Crowley winks at you, leaving you a confused panting mess.

“I can make you feel amazing, pet. Just give in to me. I promise that this whole table, all the people that teased you and made high school hell for you will have what’s coming to them. Their fates are already sealed. But I can save you if you want to be saved?”

“Saved from what?”

“From the consequences of my help.”

“That’s rather ominous. You’ve intrigued me so why not. Let’s see what you got.”

“Very well consider it done.”

“I have no idea who you are but you’re a hoot. Consider it done. What are you a demon or something? A wishmaster? Hilarious.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Wishes, demon, mind powers. You choked on your water. His eyes returned to you, filled with concern. His hand drifted out towards you fixing the problem immediately. You withdrew your hand quickly looking into his eyes with fear.

“Clever, girl. I am a demon but trust me, I have no intention of hurting you. You intrigue me too, dear, and it isn’t every day that a human does that. This is my job after all and I’m giving you a freebie.“

Soon afterwards everyone drifts away, some go home, some go to the dance floor. You decide to go, too, but before you could, Crowley pulls you aside nearly dragging you to the bleachers. He hands you two caramels.

“This is very important. You have to listen to me and remember it.  I mean you no harm but if you forget what I’m telling you, I won’t be able to save you. I will be back in 10 years. You will know when I’m back because there will be sounds of a hound, snarling and growling, yet you won’t see the hound. The second … and I mean the exact second you hear the growling, you eat the caramels. Understood?”

You nodded your head slowly and looked down at the candy. Before you could ask any more questions you found yourself alone in your car.

That night really shook you up. You didn’t know if you believed what happened. Maybe it was just a really vivid daydream? Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the need to carry the caramels in your pocket no matter where you were or with whom.

You tried to shake off the man you met years ago as a feverish dream. But what if he wasn’t? It was true that everyone got what they asked for. They were all so happy, so content. Stu even played for the Chicago Bears. No idea how Crowley pulled that off and Monica married her favorite actor. But you never found a guy who accepted you. You didn’t get a title and your life wasn’t any different. Was that because you were meant for Crowley? That idea made you afraid but also so excited that a man, a being like that, could be that intrigued by you.

You had an awful lot of sleepless night wondering what the consequences would be and how caramels would save you. You stayed up reading as you usually did and the second it turned midnight you heard growling. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep and it was just another nightmare, but you were wide-awake. You were confused and went out to the balcony looking down at the ground but you saw nothing. The growling intensified and you saw the dining room table knock over. Whatever it was, was getting closer. You could feel its warm breath on you. You immediately started chewing on the caramels two at a time. You started running around your apartment trying to suck the caramels as quickly as possible. You ran to the kitchen to get a weapon and ran out quickly brandishing a pot. You hit one of the invisible dogs but another one charged into you throwing you to the ground making you swallow the rest of the caramels. It was a wonder you didn’t choke. You slowly turned your head to the side trying to get your face always from the dog. You were shivering with fear with an invisible dog on top of you. Crowley really was a demon. And this is what happens when you wish. Shit. Where was he? Didn’t he say he would protect you?

Gulping, you slowly turned your face towards the hound. The dog seemed to be smelling you, actually smelling you. Then it bowed its head to you and walked off only to come back to you. You moved back hitting a table leg in the process. The dog moved tentatively forward and licked your palm. You were so shocked you couldn’t move until you heard a whistle and saw Crowley.

“Good girl Juliet.

Crowley bent down to pet his favorite hellhound.

“I didn’t want you harmed.”

“Your dog licked me.”

“The caramels, dear. They had a little extra kick to them. So the dogs would recognize you as mine. I never leave anything to chance.”

“Yours? I belong to no one.”

“Feisty tonight are we? Is that any way to talk to your King?”

“King?”

“A lot happens in ten years. I was King of the Crossroads then but now I’m the KING of Hell. And you, pet, are quite special and indeed mine.”

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“Darling, I’ve been around for many centuries. Trust me, I will give you pleasure you’ve never imagined. I can show things you’ve only dreamed of. You will want for nothing. I will protect you from everything.”

“Why?”

“Because I find you interesting. Or you could stay here and live your life on earth and I’ll walk away.”

“So I get a free pass.”

“Sort of. I’m a very jealous and possessive man and I wanted you. I could give you a title and a place where you belong, by my side. But I thought that you needed some time. So I looked after you, made sure you were happy, got the job you wanted, made sure you could get that vacation at the beach you so desperately wanted. I’ve been taking care of you hoping that you would choose me in the end. Your deal is for me. I’m your man if you’ll have me. And if not, then I will leave you to your life.”

You couldn’t believe what he was telling you. The King of Hell wanted you. You did wonder how you got all those things but you just thought it was good luck. Crowley was watching over you, protecting you and keeping you happy for ten years. Wow. And he was giving you a choice to go with him. You looked at his outstretched hand and placed your hand in his. If he existed, the world was a lot darker than you thought and having someone to protect you might be better. You honestly couldn’t think of a better future than with Crowley in your arms.

“We’re going to hell, aren’t we.”

“We are.”

“My car’s out back. I’d love to know how one gets to hell. Let’s drive on the highway to hell like the song.

Crowley quirked an eyebrow

“No highway? Okay, a road to hell?”

“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.”

Confusion was written all over your face,

Taking your hand you appeared in a gorgeously decorated bedroom with rose petals on the bed and a King looking at you with curiosity and longing.

What was a girl to do?

[tipsycad147]

Wicca questions answered: Just the facts about Wicca and Paganism

by Michelle Gruben

Curious about Wicca and Paganism? You’re certainly not alone! In my almost 20 years as a practicing Pagan, I’ve met lots of people who want to learn more about this small-ish, little-understood religion. Some are interested in joining Wicca (or another Pagan tradition). Some just want to better understand their Pagan friends and neighbors.

Like many Pagans, I started my training under Wiccan teacher before moving onto my own personal path. I’m not a Wiccan myself, but I attend Wiccan rituals and count many Wiccan folks among my friend. This article is my attempt to answer some of the most common questions about Wicca, Paganism, and the relationships between the two forms of belief.

What is the difference between Wicca and Paganism?

When I tell someone that I’m Pagan, a typical response is, “Oh, so you’re Wiccan?” Wiccan and Pagan mean the same thing to a lot of people. They’re not synonymous, but there is quite a bit of overlap between people who identify as Wiccan and as Pagan.

Simply put, all Wiccans are Pagans, but not all Pagans are Wiccans. Wicca is a denomination or subset of Paganism. Many other religions have branches or denominations. If someone tells you that they are Presbyterian, you can safely assume that they are also Christian. But if someone tells you they are Christian, they may or may not be Presbyterian. The case is similar for Wicca and Paganism.

Wicca is probably the best-known of all modern Pagan religions, but there are many others. Broadly speaking, anyone who believes in more than one god can be classified as Pagan. Norse Heathens, Classical reconstructionists, and Kemetic (Egyptian) Pagans are just a few of the characters you may encounter in Pagan communities. Some people even argue that Hindus are Pagan—in which case, Paganism sheds its minority status among the world’s major religions.

Do all Wiccans practice witchcraft?

Some Wiccans practice witchcraft—perhaps most. But practicing witchcraft is not a requirement of the Wiccan religion. Also, not everyone who practices witchcraft is Wiccan.

Witchcraft is a broad term for a variety of practices, including spellcasting, divination, spirit communication, trance journeying, and many more. Some form of witchcraft has occurred in every known civilization since the beginning of recorded history.

At its heart, witchcraft is about using interactions with the unseen world to effect change on the mundane world. The Witch’s power comes from within his or herself, from Nature, or from allied gods or spirits. Witchcraft may be practiced or part of a religion, or independently—even by non-religious persons. Witchcraft is a morally neutral term. It encompasses hexes and curses as well as benevolent and healing magick.

Wicca teaches that every man and woman has the power to become a Witch through study and practice. Many people are attracted to Wicca because of an interest in witchcraft. I’d venture—based on purely anecdotal evidence, of course—that most Wiccans do practice some form of witchcraft.

However, the core rites of Wicca are devotional practices that are not necessarily witchcraft. Wicca emphasizes respect for Nature, connection with the Gods and ancestors, and ethical behavior over psychic training. Learning spellwork and divination are really a secondary part of most Wiccan paths.

Here’s where it gets complicated. Both “Wicca” and “witch” share the same linguistic root word, an old Anglo-Saxon term meaning “wise one.” Any adherent of Wicca may called herself a Witch—whether or not she practices witchcraft. (A male Wiccan is also called a Witch.) Some Wiccans capitalize the word “Witch” to emphasize that it is a religious affiliation, not just a description of their behavior.

Where did Wicca come from?

Wicca was first named and described by an Englishman named Gerald Gardner. In the 1930s and 1940s, Gardner began assembling a group of practicing Witches into what ultimately became the Bricket Wood Coven. He initiated several priestesses, including High Priestess Doreen Valiente, who collaborated with Gardner to develop the Wiccan liturgy.

Gardner wrote down the main rituals of Wicca in his published books, and in a collection of private papers now known as the Gardnerian Book of Shadows. Gardner claimed that his knowledge of the Wiccan tradition came from a group of witches known as the New Forest coven. He claimed to have been initiated into a British tradition of witchcraft stretching back to pre-Christian times. The tradition he called Wicca had supposedly been alive for centuries, kept underground by Britain’s anti-witchcraft law.

Some people buy this explanation, while some people believe that Gardner fabricated or embellished his stories about the New Forest coven. There is very little evidence for an unbroken tradition of British witchcraft before the 1930s. And it’s clear that the Gardnerian corpus is heavily influenced by English Freemasonry, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, the field of cultural anthropology, and the famous magician Aleister Crowley (of whom Gardner was an associate).

Even if there’s no truth at all to Gardner’s claims of an ancient tradition, Wicca is now around 80 years old, at least, with many branches and offshoots. The oldest branch of Wicca is called Gardnerian Wicca. Gardnerians attempt to follow Gardner’s rituals and instructions as near as possible to how they were written down. Some Gardnerian groups claim a lineage stretching across a chain of initiations to Gardner himself.

Despite Gardner’s historical importance in the modern witchcraft revival, he does not occupy a lofty position in the Wiccan belief system. Wicca has no holy book, no prophets, and no written dogma. Gardner’s title within Wicca is simply “Witch”—the same as any other Wiccan initiate.

What do Wiccans believe?

Wiccan beliefs are so diverse that any list of Wiccan beliefs is certain to be incomplete. The following is my attempt to summarize Wiccan tenets in a few paragraphs:

Central to Wiccan beliefs is a reverence for nature. The Wiccan liturgical calendar is based on the movement of the sun and moon. Wiccan observe eight seasonal rites based on the annual cycle of the sun. They are called Sabbats, and are evenly distributed throughout the solar year. There are also thirteen Esbats per year, and these coincide with the lunar cycles.

Wiccan believe that human beings are not a separate creation, but an integral part of Nature. Wicca emphasizes connection with the plant and animal kingdoms, and with our human ancestors. Wiccans revere the life-giving power of the sun, the generative energy of sex, and the cycles of death and birth. Ritual offerings of food and beverage underscore our dependence on the gifts of nature. Future anthropologists might describe Wicca as a solar fertility religion—but Wiccans will certainly find that hopelessly reductive.

The central Wiccan deity is a Goddess, who may go by many different names. She is often described as a trinity—the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. In Her aspect as Maiden, the Goddess takes a male consort and together they bring forth life. In some versions of Wicca, the God and Goddess are co-equal. In others, the Goddess is clearly primary. The story of the courtship of the God and Goddess, His death, and His subsequent rebirth, is a solar myth tied to the Wheel of the Year.

Wicca has few behavioral codes. Wiccans eschew the concept of sin, instead focusing on ethical behavior and personal responsibility. The Wiccan “Rule of Three” posits that any good or harm released into the world will come back to the sender threefold. Whether they literally believe in the Rule of Three or not, Wiccans strive to heal the world, to grow in wisdom, and to live without harming others.

The Wiccan Rede, “An it harm none, do what ye will,” is sometimes cited as Wicca’s only binding piece of scripture. Not that these eight words are simple to understand. Wiccans can get into heated debates about what exactly is forbidden by the words “harm none.” And attempting to discover and follow one’s will is a magickal quest that can take a lifetime (or several).

While we’re on the topic, Wiccans also have varied beliefs about life after death. Some believe in reincarnation, others don’t. Some Wiccans speak of a heaven called the Summerland, celestial voyages, or journeys through the lands of Faery. (Wiccans don’t accept the concept of Hell or eternal punishment.) Some Wiccans claim to communicate with departed relatives and other spirits, while others don’t believe in the survival of individual consciousness after death.

All of this ambiguity makes Wiccan funerals veeeeerrry interesting. A “reunion with the Mother Goddess” may be the literal hope of the departed person, or just a poetic description of a dirt nap. It’s probably fair to say that Wiccans aren’t that fixated on the afterlife, because it can’t be known for certain. Most focus instead on honoring the gift of life while they’re alive.

Is Wicca an ancient religion? Is Paganism?

This is a question that is not easily answered. It is sure to spark a debate among any gathering of Pagans.

There is a certain perception that an older religion is somehow more legitimate than one that was developed more recently. Right or wrong, this bias affects the religious paths people choose to follow.

Interest in Wicca peaked in the late 1990s, and is now on the decline—that is, according to internet traffic statistics. The internet itself is probably to blame. As the 20th-century origins of Wicca have become more widely known, Pagans have tended to seek out other paths. It’s seen as more credible to be a member of a “real” ancient religion. Or at least, one in which ancient texts are available.

The truth is, there are very few (if any) unbroken occult traditions in the West. We have endured Inquisitions, Enlightenments, Dark Ages, and militant monotheism so widespread it has obscured any legacy of traditional witchcraft. (Except for a few Sicilian grandmas and, perhaps—if we’re feeling generous—a secret coven tucked away in southern England.) Any Western Pagan tradition that claims a continuous lineage of hundreds of years should be regarded with extreme skepticism. Some writers use the term “Neo-Paganism” to make it clear that contemporary Paganism is a revival and not a continuous tradition with the distant past.

Does that mean Neo-Paganism is a modern invention? Not necessarily. Many Pagan practices and beliefs are very old, even if the lineage is not. Pagans hold sacred the same things that would have moved our Stone Age ancestors: The movement of the sun and moon, the cycles of the seasons, the beauty of the natural world, sex, death, and harvest.

Some Pagan rites are inspired by centuries-old practices that we have records of. Some have to be completely re-imagined. The fairest way to describe Neo-Paganism might be to call it a modern religion with ancient roots.

Does Wicca require initiation? Is self-initiation allowed?

Wiccans believe that embracing the calling of a Witch is a personal choice. It cannot be simply inherited or conferred by another person. The power of the Witch is a birthright, but it must be claimed.

Dedication refers to the act of dedicating oneself to a path of Wiccan study. This “trial period” can last any length of time, while a person decides if Wicca is right for them. (A year and a day is the traditional interval.) Initiation is the more formal rite of passage, and involves full commitment to the path of the Witch.

Many Wiccans participate in a dedication ceremony sometime during their journey. Each coven, or group of Witches, may set their own requirements for dedication or initiation. For solitary Wiccans—those who practice without a coven—self-dedication is the norm.

Wiccans disagree on whether self-initiation “counts” as a true initiation. Not all branches of Wicca allow self-initiation—though most Wiccans would grant that it is permissible if a suitable teacher cannot be found. In formal Wiccan traditions, there is a three-degree system, probably inspired by the Masonic degree system. The aspirant must be initiated by an existing priest or priestess. Once the candidate rises to the rank of third degree (High Priest or High Priestess), he or she is eligible to initiate others or to “hive” (form a new coven).

Many covens have secret teachings that are available only to initiates who have reach a certain rank. (As you progress through the degrees, more of the coven’s knowledge is revealed to you.) Others are more open to non-initiates, and some even host rituals for the public. You don’t need to be initiated to participate in an open Wiccan ritual.

What are some of the symbols of Wicca?

The most familiar symbol of Wicca is the pentagram, or five-pointed star.  In Wicca, the pentagram represents the four elements (Earth, Air, Fire, and Water) surmounted by Spirit. The pentagram is also a symbol of the microcosm, the human being. Surrounded by a circle, it is called a pentacle and stands for completeness, balance, and perfection.

The pentagram is used as both a symbol of faith and a protective seal. The Wiccan pentagram is usually drawn upright, with the single point at the top. (Despite its frequent appearances in horror movies, the Wiccan pentagram is not a symbol of evil or Satanism.) Many Wiccans identify themselves with a pentagram necklace or tattoo. There are different versions of the pentagram, from the very simple to the very elaborate.

The triple moon is another symbol of Wicca that you may encounter. It is a circle (the full moon) with a waxing and waning crescent, one on either side. The triple moon symbolizes the Triple Goddess, the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. The lunar cycle, in Wicca, is evocative of the cycles of life, death, and birth.

The triquetra and triskele are Celtic symbols dating to pre-Christian times. Wiccans have adopted them, though some Celtic Christians use them, too. Both symbols represent trinities, the cycles of life, and eternity. (The triskele is a triple spiral, and the triquetra is a three-cornered knot. Read more about their similarities and differences.)

The eight-spoked wheel stands for the Wheel of the Year, and the eight Wiccan Sabbats on the Pagan calendar. The eight-pointed star is a solar symbol dating back to ancient Sumer. Sometimes the symbol will have a solar circle in the center, representing the constancy of Earth’s sun.

The spiral Goddess is usually shown nude with her arms stretched over her head. A spiral at Her belly represents Her infinite power of creation. The faceless, bare-breasted goddess is an echo of the fertility objects that have been found at many archeological sites around the world.

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/7-questions-about-wicca-and-paganism

[shirtlesssammy]

13x08: The Scorpion and the Frog

Then: 

A bunch of stuff happened. This is just a pretty picture of Dean. You’re welcome.

Now:

Cambridge, England

7:45 on a Friday

A dodgy acting woman enters a museum and proceeds to make her way to a vault in the basement.

She tries entering a room with a passcode, but doesn’t seem to have the right code, so she goes in the old fashioned way --busting it open. Man, pilates really does work. She grabs what she came for, but not before getting caught by a security guard. It appears our thief is a demon and she smokes out to possess the guard.

Once outside, if the smoke possession didn’t convince us hijinks were in action, the strategic light across the eyes and billowing night fog should really tip us off. Another dodgy demon meets the security guard and takes the mysterious documents. The security guard wonders how Asmodeus will reward them --with an angel blade to the heart, my friend. Then demon #2, let’s call him Barthamus, calls Dean! On speed dial.

At the bunker, stressed-out Dean is over cleaning his gun, when Sam walks into the kitchen. Sam’s got no news on Ketch, no news on Jack, and -get this- is the one talking to Cas. I love the speculations out there that say Asmodeus has to talk to Sam because Dean would know in a second.

Anyway, Dean gets his call from Barthamus, where Bart indicates he has info on Jack. They should meet him at Smile Diner.

On the way to the diner, Dean clarifies his stance on the meeting. “You know, after Crowley, I told myself no more demons.” Lololol, this is a gem of a statement. Yes Dean, we know you had your Summer of Love with Crowley, and that you did extraordinary things to triplets together. Let those demons go.

Once at the diner, Bart tries kissing up to the brothers by offering Dean pie and calling Sam the smart one.

He also has a spell to track Jack. He tells them he’ll be in touch and takes off. Dean eats the pie. Sam does research, and finds out the spell checks out. Dean’s reluctant, but Sam convinces him to work with Bart.

They meet up with Bart and his associates, Smash -a safecracker extraordinaire- and Grab-a demon who can bypass supernatural security.

“What is this, a heist? Hold up...is this a heist?” Yep.

Their target is Luther Shrike, a collector of supernatural objects, who has a trunk of Bart’s. Bart would get it himself, but he needs the blood of someone who’s been to Hell and back: Dean. At first I was confused since both brothers have been to hell and back, but a nice Twitter exchange with Meredith Glynn, the writer for this episode, makes it clear why it had to be Dean.

Bart makes it clear to the brothers that if they don’t take his deal, he’ll contact Asmodeus. The brothers take the deal. Shrike will never see them coming!

Shrike, getting a visit from one of Asmodeus’s minions, sees them coming.

The night of the great heist, Sam pulls up to Shrike’s house in the Impala (Dean and Smash hidden in the backseat). Uh, way to go undercover dudes? Don’t tell me the Impala isn’t instantly recognizable by anyone related to the supernatural.

Dean and Smash head their separate way from Sam, who heads to the main house to talk with Shrike.

While working on a Grab summoning spell, Dean and Smash bond over Jolt Nerve Damage.  It’s like she’s the little sister he never wanted. Once Grab arrives, he tells Dean that the vault is cloaked, but Dean is a vault compass, and with a simple spell his arm is leading the way.

Back inside, Shrike pours Sam a glass of homemade gin while they talk over his collection. Judging by Sam’s face it’s DELISH. He shows Sam his prized “fang of basilisk.” Sam picks it up… Great. Yes. Get your finger oils all over priceless artifacts, Sam. Though Sam correctly identifies it as a gorgon tooth...so I’ll overlook it. So will Shrike, as it turns out. He asks to see what Sam brought from his family collection. Sam opens the box and OH MY GOD it’s Ruby’s blade. I mean. Maybe this is less precious in a world full of angel blades but DUDE. The stakes are suddenly raised.

Meanwhile, Dean is still trapped in the comic relief portion of the evening, walking around with his dowsing-rod-arm leading the way to the vault.

They find the vault hidden in a cellar and after some cajoling, Dean leads Smash down to find the safe. First they’ve got to get through the blood-hungry door.

Up in the house, Sam starts to wrap up the deal with Shrike. Clearly nervous because he’s been far less of a distraction than he’d hoped to be, Sam agrees to whatever the terms of payment he can get. Shrike pulls out a big stack of money, then says, “We both know you’re not really here for this.” Sam tries to play dumb and Shrike picks up the demon killing knife and attacks Sam. The knife gets knocked away YES but Shrike picks up a shotgun NO. Sam knifes Shrike but it does nothing. “As long as I’m on my property I can’t die.” He picks up the fossilized gorgon tooth and knocks Sam out.

Back with adorable comic-relief-Dean, he faces down the Most Perilous Peril. He’s got to stick his hand in the stone mouth on the door. His hand gets pinned by some seriously cool machinery and Dean gets his blood sugar test done, satisfying the door that he’s human.

Wounded only by a finger prick and the scorn of a young woman, Dean leads the way inside the vault.

Inside is an Indiana Jones level booby trapped hall with trigger plates set into the floor that set off poisonous darts. (I’m just going to sit for a minute and picture Wanek’s face when he got the script.) Dean Bean being the bestest in all the land sees the dart fly in slow motion towards Smash. He pulls her back just in time.

So this turns out to be a little hitch and they pause to ponder the problem. Grab shouts down to the clubhouse to check on their progress, when Shrike sneaks up on him and kills him with the demon blade. There goes one chess piece. Shrike surprises them in the vault and Smash knees him and races past him to the door. Nicely done, lady! Good survival skills, there. Dean Bean’s left alone with Shrike. “Awesome.”

Señor Sweatervest confronts Dean and it’s a regular gun v. knife-wielding-immortal fight, Dean firing fruitlessly into his chest until Sam interrupts. (Interrupting Sam to the rescue!) Sam drops that Shrike’s immortal and Dean punches his lights out. “Good thing he’s got a glass jaw,” Dean says. RIGHT???? <3

After the commercial break we cut back to the Winchesters and Shrike. They’ve tied him to a post and ordered him to help them...and then they’ll let him go. Shrike’s not willing to help them crack the riddle.

Smash (aka Alice) races for the gate where Bart’s waiting. She begs to do another job - any other job - rather than go back and face certain death in the vault. He’s unwilling to renegotiate her deal, however. Aw, she made a deal with the King of the Crossroads. :(

Back at the vault the Winchesters scratch their heads over the puzzle. Dean proposes just...flying by the seat of their pants. Sam’s shocked. SHOCKED.

“These aren’t like the lasers in Entrapment,” Sam protests. Hmmm. HMMM.

“Did you just say Entrapment?” Dean asks, glad to catch Sam enjoying pop culture like the rest of us. Sam hatches an idea.

They load up Shrike in a cart and push him right through the middle of his booby trapped hall. He makes the whole run and soaks up all the poisoned darts. Good job, kids. Sam and Dean ponder the safe when Smash shows up. She’s ready to finish the job and stay alive and outta Hell. She pulls out a stethoscope and cracks the safe in less than a minute. 

The Winchesters grab the trunk and head out the door where they discover that Shrike’s gone missing. “Who cares? Let’s blow this pop stand.” They load up the Impala and head for the hills. On the road they’re confronted by Shrike in a anger-red pickup. Dean does some fancy reverse driving while Sam shoots out the tires.

Shrike tells them they’re working for pure evil and they learn his story. Shrike sold his soul to save his son but his son died from an accident a few years later. When the hounds came to collect, he made a new deal. He’d located Bart’s bones and threatened to burn them if the hounds ever came for him again. “You’re on the wrong side,” he tells them and before we can fall into too much introspection a machete slices Shrike’s head clean off. It’s Bart! Man, he’s good at sneaking up on people.

“You never should have left the house,” Bart tells a now quite dead Shrike.

Bart pays Alice then pulls out the second half of the spell for the Winchesters. Sam and Dean decide to renege on the deal...and Bart grabs Alice. He threatens to snap her neck before he goes up in flames. Reluctantly they hand over the trunk to Bart. Bart sends Alice to pick up his trunk and she apologizes to them.

“You gotta take care of you, right?” Dean asks, his EYES TELLING A WHOLE OTHER STORY. There’s a lighter in the bones… Alice understands Dean’s woo woo mystical eye language and lights the bones on fire. Alice is saved but the spell goes up with Bart (no thanks to Sam’s roundly mocked fire-putting-out skills).

Cut to a bus station. Alice thanks the Winchesters, tells them she’ll see them around, and heads for the bus. “Hey Alice,” Dean says. “Stay weird.” <3 <3 <3

Back at the bunker the Winchesters debrief and decompress. Dean’s looking on the positive side of life these days and consoles Sam. They saved someone, they’ll figure out another way to find Jack, and the world will keep on truckin’.

En-Quote-Ment:

Hell Street, Hell Avenue, just Hell really.

“The famous Winchesters!” “Some random demon.”

You’re a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo.

Twinsies.

I’ve seen this movie a thousand times.

Hey Winona. Nineties called. They want their shoes back.

This is all on you, hand puppet.

There was supposed to be a safe and not some dollar store Indiana Jones crap.

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[runtosleepdreamer]

Supernatural Survey 😊

Got tagged by @cas-watches-over-you - dude thanks so much for tagging me this was pretty darn fun and awesome!! 😘 1. What season did you start watching Supernatural? 
I actually have no idea… I don’t even remember the proper story anymore cuz despite it not being several years it was still quite a few years ago when I was still in.. middle school perhaps? That my school mates were talking about it and I asked my elder sibling who showed me random episodes, going by the least violent ones so I wouldn’t get nightmares.. so yeah I have no idea what season I first saw or what season was out exactly when I began watching random episodes. I only stared watching properly since last year 2. Who was the first character you fell in love with? 
Sam… he’s such a goddamn puppy that it’s hard not to like him!!! 3. Who was a character that you hated at first but grew to love?: 
Omg so many. I remember making a post about how the writers kill iff characters that were initially annoying but right as they started growing on us - bam. Dead
But ok maybe the first example was Bela… she actually was of course starting to grow o me by the time she died.. but the character that comes most immediately to mind because of how strongly I hated them… was Rowena. God she had been simply infuriating - I hated her so much for manipulating Crowley and threatening whatever good relationship he had with the Winchesters, that I wished she would die… but then come season 11 I fell absolutely I love with the woman 4. Which character would you most want to be in a long-term relationship with? 
Eep I have no fucking idea… fuck idk.. mm I never during my daydreams imagine myself with my fictional characters but if I had to choose… ugh maybe. Ok Dean is loyal and Sam is a puppy but idk it feels weird coming in between them… Cass is pretty amazing but… ugh fuck it maybe oh ok why not.. Charlie? Yeah. Charlie for sure, she’s amazing, pretty damn amazing with technology, I sure as hell wouldn’t mind her teaching me how to hack or everything about Star Trek or whatnot, seeing as I’ve never watched them (le gasp, the outrage! I know I know) Or hell maybe even Sam cuz he’s pretty soft and everything (but also great in bed obviously) idk I can’t imagine myself with Dean cuz he would be more awesome with someone who can actually take care of themselves for real you know? Whereas Sam has always paired nicely with women in a domestic life - though they did end up dying… gah idk 🤷‍♀️ 5. If you could go on a date with just one character, which one would you choose?:
Dean. Easily Dean there, cuz even if it’s one date, I’m sure he’ll make it worth it, sexy or not because he’s a damn attentive guy.. 6. What would you do on that date? 
A first date or like after a few? Cuz if it’s after a few I wouldn’t mind a nature hike cuz goddamn do I love those… but for a first Idk I’d feel too self conscious. Maybe a good movie… maybe the beach… some cuddles and some good food and talking quietly to each other in the night under the moon and stars with a soft breeze 😊 7. Which character would you most want to be like?: 
Hm. Any strong female roles out there? Yeah that seriously narrows it down but real talk.. I’m torn between Charlie and Rowena.. ugh maybe Charlie. She’s pretty amazing and nice and fun… though I honest to god can’t imagine myself ever LARPing… 8. Which character would you most want to see brought back from the dead?: 
Right now, Castiel. But since (SPOILERS duh) we already know he’s coming back… Crowley!!!! 9. Which character would you most like to punch?: 
Oh that’s a long list there buddy. Uh. Lucifer? Yeah. As of the season 12 finale.. definitely Lucifer. 10. Who is your absolute favorite character?: 
Dean 😁😍😘 11. Which “Big Bad” do you think was the worst?: 
uh torn between Amara and Metatron. God I kinda hated season 11 because of her, it was a bit of a drag to get through but god Metatron was so. Damn. Annoying. 12. Which character are you most like?: 
Oh god I have no idea, they’re all way too amazing people for me to compare with them. Uhhh maybe… eep Idk Lisa? 😕 idk I’m not even sure if I’m brave much tbh but if not her then.. idk maybe Chuck before the end of season 5? 😐 idk 13. What death hit you the hardest? 
Honestly because I kinda already knew about everyone who was going to die until season 12, because like I had to catch up with the show and that meant big watching 11 seasons before the 12th came out. So that means 11 seasons f knowing who already dies for the most part… but I guess.. ok Charlie, idr if I knew she died but it hurt me a lot because I hated the fact that she died, and even more so what it did to the boys. And then every time Dean died, mainly seasons 3 and 9’s finale, and goddamn how broken up Sam got about it at those times… fuck those killed me but I guess they were more of the heart wrenching scenes then death specifically that hurt me. 
But of course. Cass. Cuz I had obviously. So. Not. Seen. It. Coming. I barely managed I avoid screaming and after… it took me a couple of hours to even remotely get to mouth shut 14. What season finale hit you the hardest?: 
Season 9 and 12, reasons stated above^^^ especially 12 cuz hiatus!!!!! 15. What are your ten all-time favorite episodes?: 
well fuck me cuz now I gotta most likely look up the names of the episodes
Mm. 
First one easily is season 9 episode 13 the purge (thanks google) because of how it ended. Ok Ima stop there cause season 9 was an emotional turmoil that I’d rank as love cuz of the angst. But the case itself was pretty neat. 
Uh god I can only remember specific scenes. Ok uh
“A very supernatural Christmas”(?) “Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie” “Hell House” “Ghost Facers” “Fanfiction” “Jus in Bello” “Bad day at Black Rock” is that ten yet.. “Alex Annie Alexis Ann” idek I just really love some scenes specially “Free to be you and me” and of course “Changing Channels” god this was so damn hard 16. What’s been your favorite season?: 
9!!! Aaaangst! 17. Who is your favorite angel? 
Cass easily 18. Who is your favorite demon? Crowley :) 19. Who’s your favorite evil character? 
Favorite? Then Ima go with Crowley again 20. Do you have any Supernatural ships?: 
Mm this blog I try to keep ship free but if you wanna check out my side blog for the answers, I’ll be happy to message you on this one ;) 21. Who’s your favorite supporting actor?: 
Can’t remember any right now but they’re all amazing… oh how about Garth!!! God he’s such a sweetheart - and still alive! But oh Jody is amazing too…! 22. What’s your favorite quote from the show?:
“I’m proud of us” it’s the main one at the top of my head but there are so many other brilliant ones. I have a tendency to lean towards the emotional ones made to each other (Dean, Sam, Cass) such as above from Dean to Sam, his ending speech in season 8’s finale “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you!” 😭😪 and Cass’s - what he thought was his - dying speech to Sam and Dean mostly as well as Mary to an extent in 12x12 23. If you could cast one famous actor in an episode of SPN, who would you choose? 
Katie McGrath? She was - and is - my woman crush 😉 lol she’d be an awesome witch or hell even huntress or screw it even another Bela 🤷‍♀️ 24. If you could write your own episode, what kind of creatures would you like to see included?: 
Unicorns. Interacting with Dean. Idk.. uh honestly what have we not seen? Cuz I wouldn’t mind just another case that stumps the boys because it’s an almost unheard f monster, those are fun and new 🤷‍♀️ but maybe… omg some version of the Loch Ness monster. Idk it’d be interesting to see to have to deal with that.. or maybe what was it.. tree nymph and… what are the creatures who reside in the water called? 25. Who’s your favorite girl that Dean’s hooked up with?: 
Omg um… ok that girl that he sorta shacked up with when he was a demon in season 10..? …Yeah probably her So I checked and her name is Anne Marie!… 26. Who’s your favorite girl that Sam’s hooked up with?: 
Eileen - she was a huntress, so could take of herself, and Dean as just an absolutely amazingly (supportive) teasing elder bro about it 27. What are some of your favorite convention moments?: 
Omg I don’t think I’ve seen enough to decide but… I think whenever J2M comfort each other. Those are just so soft and sweet and give us an insight to their friendship that just 🤤😍 28. If you were going to guest star (or be a recurring guest star) on SPN, how would you want your character to be described?: 
Well fuck me I’d love to be a badass huntress cuz it’s something I’m obviously not IRL… or maybe someone who isn’t aware of the Supernatural world until the boys come along and then I prove really useful for heir research because of something and then somehow I get dragged into the world and I’m actually pretty good? Yeah, there’s a pattern there isn’t it 29. What do you hope to see in the next season?: 
Apart from Castiel and Rowena and Crowley alive? Idk Jack not being the next big bad, hopefully a break from big bads for the boys and after they get Cass and Mary back and hopefully just leave Lucifer to rot in the alternate universe, just go on some cases and take some time to cool down you know? 30. - 40. If you had to choose… Bobby or John?: 
Bobby!!!!! I mean hell yeah I would seriously love to see how the boys would react if John came back, but that would probably ensure that a lot of drama and fights would be quick to ensue as well, so yeah. Bobby Bela or Ruby? 
Well ok I liked the first Ruby because as Katie Cassidy went, we didn’t know for sure Ruby was not to be trusted. But overall Ruby was pure evil.. and I actually felt bad when Bela died while I didn’t for Ruby - felt relieved when Ruby died actually -so yeah. Bela Jess or Madison?: 
erm… Madison, maybe? Jo or Lisa?: 
Jo… I actually shipped her with Dean more than I ever will with Lisa, truth be told Charlie or Kevin? 
Ergh both but.. Charlie first? Balthazar or Ash?: 
oooh they were both good.. but.. maybe Ash? Cas or Crowley? 
Ooh Cass but ugh Crowley is definitely a close second! Ben or Claire? 
Claire Jody or Donna? 
Jody :) Sam or Dean?: 
Mm Dean first, but of course Sam next immediately I'ma tag: @deanwinbean @thewincestfeels @atmaandauraofdean @doctor–idiot @deanandcastrash @all-i-need-is-destiel And y'all don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, it’s totally cool 🙂