the Cake family has voted, so this week it’s the Supernatural premiere live. We’ll watch AOS tomorrow. So I’ll be off tumblr for the evening to avoid spoilers. :)
THEY JUST WANTED TO FIND THEIR DAD
THEY JUST WANTED TO FIND THEIR DAD
And we all know which fandom that belongs to
9 seasons, 195 episodes, 80 hugs, and thousands of tears later … it all began, September 13, 2005, with two brothers.
Behind the Scenes of Supernatural: A Fan’s Perspective (full mockumentary in HD OuO ENJOY)(x)
Show up this morning to work and look what a friend brought me from comic con! Jenny Klein and Ben edlund signatures! I am over the moon. Ben has done The Tick, Angel, Firefly, and SON. Jenny writes for SPN too.
Best day since my birthday SHARKNADO/Guardians run.
Dean might actually enjoy the Renaissance Faire if it weren’t for the damn witches … but when a witch casts a spell and a leather-clad hunter right out of a fairy tale lands in his lap, Dean just might get lucky.
Katya wanted hot guys in medieval outfits and lots of leather with confident Dean on top and shy Hansel. This is what she got.
Seriously AU SPN: This is the young Dean & Sam …. Sam never died, Dean never went to hell, and Dean may actually smile and laugh in the story. Just a fair warning.
Faith visiting someones grave.
Staring down at a headstone, she had dark hair, loose and blowing in the cold October wind. Not dressed for the approaching weather, she wore jeans, a cotton button-up shirt, and Dean couldn’t help but notice how the jeans sat, low on her hips, tank riding up to show a sliver of skin. Twilight cast a gray blanket over the sky as a storm moved in; they’d finished filling up the grave, repacking the charred remains with dirt, and both brothers were sweating beneath the jackets they’d just put back on. And still she stood, steady, seemingly unaware of the dangers of a graveyard at night, ignoring the brothers lingering just behind her.
She wasn’t sure why she’d come at all. It was just a stone with a name and two dates, a life reduced to a dash between them. No one was home; the watchers had made sure of that, burning the body with all the necessary rituals. And yet she found herself coming here when she needed to talk, when she’d really screwed up again, talking to a woman who couldn’t talk back. ‘Probably better that way,’ she thought. ‘I’d just piss her off like I do everyone.’
Sam threw the shovel in the trunk and slammed it closed, pulling the keys out of the lock and tossing them to Dean.
“You think we should say something to her?” He asked, keeping his voice low out of respect for her grief. “There’s a chance we didn’t get the right body.”
Dean glanced back over his shoulder; she stood just as she had before, unmoving, uncaring of the world around her. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted, but Sam was right. This was not a place for anyone to be alone.
“Um, excuse me?” Dean asked. “Can we give you a lift or something? It’s getting late and it’s a long walk back to town.”
She’d noticed them, of course, the way she knew about the vampires nested down by the river and the caretaker getting in his car to leave. Why the two hunters dug up a grave and refilled it really wasn’t her problem; the scent of kerosene and smoke lingered on them. The part of her that hadn’t had sex in quite some time had catalogued their hotness, and they’d pegged out her meter. If she’d had the time, she’d enjoyed the distraction for the evening, one or both, whatever struck their fancy. But she had to be somewhere else — and she laughed at herself when she thought it — to save the world. Just like always.
“Thanks for the thought, boys.” she smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “But I can find my own way back. I’m a big girl.”
“Look, it’s no problem, really. We’re heading back.” Sam offered. She looked Sam up and down, before her gaze traveled to Dean.
“If you go for the ‘it’s going to be dangerous’ line, I just might have to hurt you.” Burrowing her hands down into her pockets, she stepped away and started walking. “Seriously, a classic pick-up line would be better. ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’ or ‘Hey, little girl, want a ride?’”
She crossed to the car, running her hand along the top of the door. “Damn fine machine. ’67, right? Almost as nice looking as her owners.” This time, her smile seemed more genuine, pulling her out of her darker thoughts. “You know a cheap motel around? Looks like I’m going to be here for overnight.” She opened the door, paused before sliding in. “You coming?”
She still wasn’t sure why she’d come; the past was the past and there was a no return policy. There were only possibilities, choices, new opportunities to screw up again. And there was time, she thought, to enjoy herself a little before the next end-of-the-world crisis.
This scene, though
Dean’s face in the last gif though