#call me crowley cause i too am obsessed and in love with an angel named aziraphale and would like his hand in marriage more than anything

[p4nishers]

im just saying he can be the kindest man in the world while being a total bitch. it's the duality i look for in a man.

i am a huge advocate of aziraphale being a bitch i encourage and actively support it actually

[pequenoleon]

“what’s in a name?” (Good Omens) on AO3

“what’s in a name,” the actor on stage sighs, “that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” he frowns, though understands juliet’s plight exactly. names are more complicated than let on. or, crowley's journey of self-discovery from creation to after the apocalypse-that-wasn't.

they know what they’re supposed to be before they even know themself, before creation, a time before time, when god needed extra hands for her bidding to bring good to the universe. what was good? what was the universe? god did little to answer these questions. instead, god said, life started with the angels. but none of them knew why yet.

there was lucifer first, then michael, then raphael, and gabriel, the archangels of the void. the light from lucifer's wings, and god's guidance, was the first glowing star in their world. it was beautiful, they had overheard michael say once, but they weren't there to see it.

not all angels were created in a single snap of god's will. rather, they appeared together, moment by moment.

god was beautiful, they remember that. they were brought with the rest of the angels into her light, her warmth, and given purpose. none had no reason to disagree with her almighty.

"samael," she spoke to them, "rise."

they did, unfurled white wings. in that one moment of existence, samael knew that being an angel, being granted the power of creation to help with the universe, was the most important thing. each angel had their own unique gifts, she said, opportunities to give Earth and beyond.

they liked the beyond bit. samael wanted to go beyond Earth, make a difference there; even as curious as angels are, they was the first to ask why.

"because, samael, there's a greater plan at stake that you will play a role here, as all do."

they were the first to question their essence.

"but why am i samael," they asked. they were given this name afterall.

"because you are the blindness i cannot see, the venom that will be spit back at me."

it made no sense, and they decided not to press further.

samael moved, not yet having a physical form, and joined the others who rejoiced in a bigger family.

---

samael wanted to fit in. noting how different they were from the rest, they were eager and ready to serve. yet they moved independently with their tasks, opposed to waiting in line to be assigned. they liked the freedom. other angels scorned. michael thought samael only needed more responsibility to step into their role as an angel of the lord, to fall into line. what michael meant was to act as expected.

samael didn't get along with many angels. most other’s wings would tremble, outstretch, arching up in protection of themselves-- a barrier, a do not approach, a notice of being an outsider within your own flock. samael kept their distance then, eager with the new task of guarding the seventh heaven.

"oh, a promotion, you must be excited." an unfamiliar voice said.

samael hadn’t noticed the angel who approached them. a principality, clear wings and a holy crown rested upon them.

"i would rather be out there, among the stars, creating, or living amongst it."

"that's a beautiful thought. sometimes i feel the same way too...?”

"samael, and you?”

"aziraphale.”

"an honor."

they were the first angel to show true kindness, the odd way that energy poured off of aziraphale put them at ease. they chatted. aziraphale showed off the sword the almighty had given them, its fire caught the light of heaven and samael became obsessed with it.

fire, heat, the warmth of it.

aziraphale was the perfect angel, samael thought. poised to protect their creator's design, rolling with what they were given. they became friends.

---

the only other angel to give them the time of day (day was just invented, they quite liked both day and night) was lucifer, and his close knit group. lucifer, the morning star, demanded a new type of identity for himself, he wasn't just an angel, he was god's favorite, and rumored to be the most powerful.

samael wanted to be as respected as lucifer.

they often left their duties to join lucifer and watched the world. they didn't like guarding. michael yelled at them for it, but why were they guarding anyway? guarding what? who amongst the angels had the thought to do anything other than what they were told?

oh, the questions they had.

"do not question the plan, samael." michael said.

"thinking isn't right for an angel, you know better." gabriel said.

raphael was absent as always. but it was lucifer who praised their curiosity.

names are important, the meaning they bring. lucifer brings light through his wings' glow. samael thought of aziraphale's sword, but lucifer's glow was somehow still so cold.

the difference was as striking as the time that now passed by.

lucifer showed samael the power they held, the power other archangels tried to hide from them– creation, like the lord herself.

"you must listen to yourself, samael, follow your own path, and do as you must. create your own miracles."

samael, in all their strength, created a nebula. yellows, and blues, space dust swirling through the vast void, a giant canvas. lucifer said they had the right to name it, as it was theirs. carina, the name on the tip of their tongue. an explosion of stars, birth and death happening simultaneously... for the first time, they felt proud of a creation. the freedom it came with, this feeling was life.

compared to the warmth aziraphale would give, lucifer was cold, manipulating... but lucifer was more powerful than aziraphale, and through lucifer, samael could show god that they could do so much more.

that was their plan. they didn't need god's great plan, but other little plans along the way that would get the same place. questions helped them get there, so why were they bad?

---

samael had another interaction with god, rare for the time, as whispers ran through heaven everywhere. they were called upon by michael, summoned for lack of reporting to their duty.

"why do you cause trouble," michael spoke, "don't follow lucifer's ego."

samael didn't respond. what could they have said, that lucifer was the only interesting thing happening around each of the realms of heaven, that without the whole world there was nothing to guard or protect. their existence had been meaningless.

it had felt so long since samael had felt the grace of their god. she was angry, but the ripples of her love for her children was strong and yet not as strong as her own angels.

"what can you tell me about lucifer, samael?"

they bristled. sight blinded by light, they shielded away. "lucifer has the idea that we, the angels of heaven, should have a stronger hand in creation, to follow our own desires--”

"that is not what i asked of you.”

"your grace, you asked very little of me in the first place."

the light grew stronger, and samael felt terribly small, their wings wrapping around them for protection.

"i have plans for you. do not try to go against them." and that was meant to be the end, where samael corrected their ways and went back to the post of the seventh heaven. but samael only wanted answers, answers that no one would give them, and somehow that was wrong.

"what plan?"

there was a silence. the question was the last straw. the aggravation from the angels and her lord weighed as heavy as the weight of the universe on samael's shoulders. through the anger, even god spoke so softly. it still rattled through their being.

"the great plan, samael, the test to show where their true devotion lies in the world i give them."

"who?" they dared not say more, but the curiosity within them was not yet sated.

"my greatest creation. a test, samael, a test you best pass."

god went quiet, and samael knew that was the end of that. the world was the lord's greatest creation, and yet with the sky and the rivers, and the glorious beasts that roamed the grasses, she was not yet satisfied.

michael sent samael back to their post. they stayed, guarding, in displeasure.

then things did change. the humans. adam and eve, god had named them, were given the most beautiful place of creation to live in but under the one rule that neither two touch what she commanded was untouchable. a tree, a simple tree, samael thought it was laughable. the sixth day brought more than humans. it brought envy. lucifer hated them.

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[feuilly-cakes]

Twilight - review

I'm now revealing myself to be twilight trash, but let's talk about it! In this review you'll find the good, the bad, and the ugly (in list form even!) I know this story like the back of my hand, and this is a reread, so although I've only read this particular book once before, I can't be unbiased here. I am a more critical reader now than I was at 14 though, so hopefully this review counts for something. There will be a warning before the section with the spoilers if you haven't yet given in to the curiosity.

I loved it. I gave it 4*. I also found certain parts offensive. Some parts were very funny, and others just as dramatic as you'd expect from a book published for teens in 2005. The love story was, dare I say it, good. It's an enemies to friends to lovers, with a very quick progression on those last two. Both Bella and Edward acted just like regular teens around each other, and if there wasn't a vampire aspect involved it wouldn't have been criticised too heavily on the relationship front. I pretty much sped through the book, even with life getting in the way and pausing every 5 minutes to stick annotation tabs in. We are given a good amount of information about vampires, the history of the characters, and also the kinds of people these characters are. Aside from the offensive/insensitive parts, the entirety of which I will be listing below as I picked up on them, there are only a few moments of genuine real life creepiness not related to the Port Angeles scene right up until the epilogue, which made me very uncomfortable for reasons I shall be explaining. As a random note, I noticed 9 obvious instances of foreshadowing. She must have known where she was going with this series, or else that was a strange coincidence. The rest of this review will contain spoilers Let's begin with how this differs from the movie, since pretty much everyone has seen the movie. First and foremost, there are the characters - Bella and Edward specifically. Bella in this book is a typical teenager with a strong personality. As a child she had tantrums over going to Forks, saying she 'hadn't made a secret of [her] distaste for Forks.' She has a fierce temper, but she is also kind, frowning upon Jessica Stanley's judgement of Esme for adopting kids because she can't have any biologically. She's not vain but she cares about her looks, fussing over her skin being paler once she got to Forks - 'My skin could be pretty' 'I had no color here.' Sarcasm is her thing, and she despairs that none of her new classmates seem to get her sense of humour. She's friendly though an introvert, smiling and waving at everyone who greets her after a week of school while not knowing all of their names. She loves girls nights, and finds being around other girls 'invigorating'. She's independent and won't let Edward question that: "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself." However, she notices she has a very strong crush on Edward that is almost obsessive and finds it 'pitiful' and 'pathetic'. At least she's self aware. 

Bella is very funny at times, especially when referencing her clumsiness (I won't spoil this because humour should never be spoiled). Bella is very smart and resourceful, but not in the obvious way. Schoolwork is a breeze for her because she's done most of it at her old school, but she's smart in other ways. It's Bella who figures out about Edward's mind reading abilities and questions him about it, and who flirts with Jacob Black to get information about the Cullens and why they aren't allowed on the reservation. It's Bella who tells Edward that men and women should be equal or as close to equal as they can, each saving each other the same amount of times. It's also Bella who feels that Mike Newton understands her, because they both were new in Forks at one point, and both lived in sunny places and probably both experienced the chain link fences and metal detectors that Bella was shocked were not at Forks High School. (Personally that threw me for a loop too, that schools could have metal detectors.) Edward is closer to the movie characterisation, but acts more like a typical teenage boy. He's moody but charming, awkward at times but also mischievous. At one point he cuts Bella off in the school car park and then deliberately stops his car to wait for his siblings, causing a queue behind them and giving Tyler Crowley the opportunity to ask her to the dance. He does all this to anger Bella, and it was absolutely hilarious. He flip flops between cheerful and broody, and finds Bella utterly fascinating. He is constantly relearning boundaries and ways to make Bella and himself feel more comfortable. An interesting aspect of his character that was definitely unintentional and handled poorly was the way he was coded as demi-sexual. He states that he has never wanted anyone before Bella, and his adoptive mother Esme thought there was something missing in him. As this is offensive I'll be bringing it up again later. Back to some positives, he likes to sing under his breath in a very fast speed that looks like his lips are trembling, and finds the heat of Bella's hands very pleasant. I thought this was cute, and I had to tab it for future reference. A not so cute thing is how he can 'dazzle' Bella by being close to her face and breathing on her. She describes this as her mind going blank, after which we see her agree to whatever he says while she is in this state. It's a bit creepy but he doesn't take advantage of it at first after being made aware of it, he only does so towards the end, which we shall get into later. He also hears the minds of others as a background hum that he can then focus in on, which I found interesting. Now, onto actual plot things that differed, we have Bella never buying that book on Quileute legends, instead simply flirting with a 15 year old Jacob to get his information and then combining that with a google search, and coming to her conclusions that way. Next, we have the Volturi being mentioned but not by name, firstly on vampires a-z in the section: 'Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.' and then in a scene that wasn't a part of the film at all, wherein Edward and Bella are in Carlisle's office, talking about his history, and they are brought up simply as Carlisle's artistic friends from Italy. They are named but the word Volturi is nowhere in this book. In a similar vein, several backstories are revealed in this book that we didn't really get to see until later in the series. Bella gets some meaningful interactions with Jasper, who actually sits next to her and touches her to calm her down in the hotel. It's also implied somewhere in those chapters that Alice possibly knew about Bella planning to sneak off and let her go anyway. Finally, Bella is awake after the venom gets sucked out. This is important because she tells them that the venom is gone and thanks Edward before passing out. She was awake and aware the whole time, though in incredible pain. Another difference happens but I'll be discussing that with the other creepy things. Next, I would like to discuss a few things we learn about Vampires. Did you know that despite their physical perfection, a hungry vampire looks like they are recovering from a nose job? The bruises are very prominent, and likely not pretty to look at. Did you also know that they a venomous in the true sense of the word? Alice tells Bella that the venom is to incapacitate victims with the pain, and becoming a vampire is just a side effect, not the true function of the venom. The pain is there for a reason, and that reason is to torture victims with the burning sensation so they can't get away. These vampires may sparkle, but they aren't cute. I will never get the image of snake fangs out of my mind in conjunction to twilight vampires. Am I the only one who didn't realise the inherent creepiness of that because there's no mention of it in the films? Alright, now onto the offensive/ creepy stuff. I'll be bullet pointing these with elaboration where needed. -Bella refers to herself as an albino simply because she is pale. This one just didn't sit right with me, for reasons I can't explain. Stick with me here, it gets worse. -A casual comment about suicide: 'I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.' This one is tricky, because everyone has made jokes like that, but it made me personally uncomfortable and didn't need to be in there considering the tone of the rest of the book. -Upon Edward talking to her again after the car park incident, Bella says this: "Do you have multiple personality disorder?" This needs no elaboration. Buckle up, it gets worse. -Jacob. He tells Bella his people's legends after she flirts with him, all the while telling her he didn't believe them himself. Then he asks her: "So do you believe we're a bunch of superstitious natives or what?" As someone who is not native american, I can't give a personal perspective here, but I don't believe this is something she should have had a native character say. Stephenie Meyer is a white woman and had no place essentially calling the people she culturally appropriated a bunch of superstitious natives. It was jarring to read that line knowing that it's not her culture and she has no right to say that, only someone from the culture has the right to say that. As I said, I'm not native american and I haven't looked deeply into what exactly she stole and changed, but I know she did it, so that can of course be a pretty major offence to many people. -She compares her clumsiness to being 'almost disabled'. Gross. -The watching her while she sleeps thing. Let's talk about it. She guesses he's been spying on her when he knows where the key is after the meadow date, and he says he's been watching her sleep. It's undoubtedly creepy, but Bella isn't concerned about that. Oh no, she's concerned about what he heard while she was sleep talking. She actually seems unbothered by the stalking aspect, which is why I think these actions flew under the radar for so many people. If Bella thinks it's fine then it must be fine, right? This should have been handled differently. -The Aphobia. Edward tells Bella that Esme was 'afraid that there was something missing from [his] essential makeup'. This is really harmful, but it wasn't intentional. I have no doubt that Stephenie Meyer had no clue and perhaps still has no clue that asexuality is a thing and that she accidentally made Edward demisexual, by simple fact of him being interested in no one before Bella. Nonetheless, it needs to be warned for. -There are heavy implications of p*dophilia here, by choice of language. Regarding Bella's class, full of people her age. Edward calls them a 'class full of children' then on the next page calls Bella 'an insignificant little girl' and then a few chapters down he calls jacob a 'child' to which Bella responds that he is not much younger than she is and Edward cheerfully replies that he knows. It's beyond creepy and I wish it wasn't there, because if it had gone the opposite way of Edward making old man jokes it could have been funny and not horrifying to think about. -Lastly though not leastly, the epilogue. All throughout the book Bella has under no circumstances wanted to go to prom. She is tricked into going to prom. Alice sees the future, Edward reads minds, they knew she wouldn't want to go but bamboozled her into going anyway, and when she starts shouting and crying, Edwards tells her "Don't be difficult". This is creepy and horrifying, that they are taking away her agency and treating her like a child when she tries to refuse. Although she goes and has a goodish time, it still wasn't right to force her into that position. Thus concludes this review, and I leave you with the knowledge that if you read this you get to see the part where Charlie Swan tells Bella that Carlisle Cullen is very attractive. Good day.

[itsclydebitches]

Car - Even after 6,000 years they still need a bit of a nudge. Maybe the Bentley can help with that.

***

Everything went to shit the morning Crowley parked the Bentley across from the shop, music blaring so loud that it shook the panes of every window a block down and drew him a record number of dirty looks. Crowley grinned at all the little humans, enjoying the feeling of hot metal against his arm and the vibrating base. When Aziraphale stuck his head out the door with a comically offended expression, well. Crowley most certainly enjoyed that too.

“Hello, Aziraphale!” he called. His voice had to rise past the capabilities of normal vocal cords to be heard.

“Turn that down!”

“Sorry?”

“Turn it down, Crowley!” Azirphale’s arms did a funny kind of pressing motion.

“Yeah, no, really didn’t catch that. You’ll have to speak a bit louder!”

Which resulted in Aziraphale puttering across the street to join him because the day his angel raised his voice above a gentlemanly reprimand was the day the world ended.

And as they now both knew, that was permanently on hold.

“Enough,” he growled, reaching across the steering wheel to press uselessly at all the knobs. Crowley shut the music off himself with a secretive snap. “Are you trying to deafen every one of my neighbors? Or summon the cops? Really, Crowley, the last thing we need is them poking about when I still have texts whose placement here I can’t exactly explain in writing. Do you want to tell them why there is a Georgian Bible without a paper trail?”

Crowley just grinned and set himself to the task of enjoying this interaction. It was all a little goldmine: Aziraphale’s arm pressed against his chest in an effort to reach the controls. How his hair lifted slightly at the tips because he tended to unfurl his wings when annoyed and even across dimensions those could produce a breeze. The way he still, after centuries, had no real idea how the police force worked. Yes, Zira. They’re going to respond to a noise complaint and then segue into breaking down your door, terrorizing a pouty bookshop owner purely for the fun of it.

...actually, that sounded like a lot of coppers Crowley knew. Maybe Aziraphale understood more than he gave him credit for.

“Sorry, angel. Just got real into that song.” Crowley wouldn’t have been able to name the song if his immortal life depended on it. He’d just let the Bentley pick whatever on the way here. “Up for a spot of lunch?”

It was their routine. A planned interaction that Crowley knew by heart and was thus safe to indulge in. He’d show up ‘unexpectedly’ outside the shop. Do something to invoke Aziraphale’s ire. He’d then spend a few moments memorizing his reactions like after 6,000 years there was anything left to learn (there was). Then Aziraphale would make his token protests, cave, and off they’d go. In the face of change—of the biblical sort. Of the “We’re on our own side now” sort��Crowley sometimes felt like routine was the only thing holding him together.

So something cracked when Aziraphale ignored his question entirely.

“Zira?” Crowley leaned out the window to get a better look. Aziraphale was now circling the car with a staggeringly guilty expression, hands twisting at the lowest button of his vest. Crowley was a second away from tumbling out and finding whatever had put that look on his angel’s face when he began to speak.

Not to Crowley though.

“I am so very sorry, my dear,” he said, seeming to address the Bentley’s hood. “I was quite cruel to you the other day, wasn’t I? Hardly sparing you a glance when you went up in flames like that. Yelling at Crowley to hurry things along. Oh... it must have hurt. Did it hurt? I’d imagine so. But please know that wasn’t at all an accurate representation of my feelings for you. Those were some rather extreme circumstances and I fear I was a bit out of my depth at the time. You see, I was forced to possess a woman by the name of Madam Tracy—a rather harrowing experience, all things considered—and there was an angry man pointing a gun at us, and the world was just about to end, you see, though I suppose you probably already knew that part—”

Crowley stared. Aziraphale was apologizing to his car.

Aziraphale. Was apologizing. To his car.

By the time he was done (finishing with a kiss to the front left light) Crowley had slithered down into his seat and was desperately trying to remember how to function.

“Crowley?”

“Hngg.”

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Suffering.”

“Suf—? Really. You show up here doing damage to all our eardrums and have the nerve to talk about suffering? Are you taking me to lunch or not?”

He’s perfect, Crowley thought, fumbling with his keys. He’s perfect and he just gave my car a more passionate love confession than I could ever hope to get.

If the Bentley seemed to have more of a purr to its engine that day Crowley chalked it up to his damaged hearing.

***

Scratch that, everything went to shit the day his Bentley realized they’d escaped the end of the world.

“It’s not alive,” a child had once told him, staring as Crowley yelled at the car for daring to stall on him. That was in the early days of their relationship. Winter of 1926, before they’d crossed many thousands of miles together, outrun other demons, discovered a shared love of music, had that wonderful romp across the Thames. Walking on water? Please. Try driving on it. Watch and weep, Jesus Christ.

That was far in the future though. Crowley had grown soft in his old age—really—and 1920s him wasn’t quite as forgiving. He’d figured a good reprimand was better than just magic-ing the problem away. This new Bentley needed to learn who was boss.

And here was this kid saying the stupidest things.

Crowley had looked her over. Wealthy little thing if that coat and frock was any indication. She’d been sucking a lolly and watching him like she’d ditched her shopping-obsessed mother and now had nothing better to do. Which was probably exactly what had occurred.

“How old are you?” he’d asked.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve years old and you’re saying nonsense like that?”

She’d gone so far as to stamp her foot, cheeks bulging from candy and indignation. “It’s not nonsense!”

So Crowley made a faulty approach—damn ice patches—and knelt down in front of her. He pointed upwards at a chaffinch. “That bird alive?”

“Well of course,” she’d said.

“Don’t ‘of course’ me, I’m about to blow your mind. Is the tree it’s in alive?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, right, both agreeing on that. Okay, how ‘bout the sun shining through its branches?”

For the first time the girl had hesitated. Crowley jumped on it.

“Ah ha!” he crowed. “Bit tricker, eh? Lots of science folks out there who might try to make that case. Is a river alive? Maybe not, but if it is does that make the rain alive too? All the pretty things it freezes into?” Crowley scooped up a handful of snow, dumping it over the girl’s head. She had jumped and squeaked but didn’t run. “Life’s a messy thing, kid. All those blurry lines for metal and heat and water and light. So if I take those blurry things and change them up until they’re a car—” he waved both arms at the Bentley. “Don’t you think the car’s a bit of a blurry thing too?”

The girl had bit into her lip. It was red with cold and nibbled raw. “...Maybe.”

Crowley nodded. “Last question: am I a man or a snake?”

“A man!”

“And that’s why you don’t go telling strangers their cars aren’t alive.” Crowley stood. He made a sound like a buzzer in the back of his throat. “Wrong answer, kid. But you’re asking questions so I guess you’re not all bad.” He’d miracled up another lolly and shooed her off. “Go find your mum.”

Crowley never had the slightest doubt that his Bentley was alive. Maybe it appreciated that certainty because their relationship got a whole lot better after that. Ninety-three years and no more stalling.

Today, in 2019, Crowley wished dearly that the Bentley was just a hunk of metal.

“Surely this is bebop,” Aziraphale said. Crowley resisted the urge to lay his head on the steering wheel and just give up completely.

Actually, who was he to deny himself anything?

“Please watch the road!”

“You watch the road,” Crowley mocked, swatting Aziraphale’s hand away as he attempted to gain control. During it all Diana Ross crooned from the speakers.

Two hearts, Two hearts that beat as one Our lives have just begun...

He didn’t own any Diana Ross. He hadn’t turned on the radio. The song was just there as soon as they’d started off and Crowley was this close to selling the Bentley for scrap metal.

Because it had been doing this for days now. Anything Crowley wanted to listen to while out and about on his own? Sure. That was just fine. When Aziraphale decided to join them?

Cheesy love songs galore. Crowley’s hands tightened until his knuckles went white. He hoped the Bentley could feel it.

“Angel, do you have any concept of what bebop actually is?”

“Well...” Aziraphale faltered. “I know all the young kids are into it and this woman’s voice is quite risqué.”

“Literally none of that is right. Not a lick of sense. It’s 2019 how do you even function?”

The music increased in volume.

'Cause no one can deny This love I have inside And I'll give it all to you My love, my love, my love My endless love

“I’m setting you on fire again,” Crowley growled and pretended like he couldn’t hear Aziraphale humming along as the song repeated.

***

The next day Crowley opened the Bentley to find a bedazzled BEBOP charm hanging from his rearview mirror. The tacky monstrosity caught all the light as it slowly, spitefully rotated.

With a yell he chucked it into oncoming traffic. It was back again by lunch.

Aziraphale loved it.

(So fine, yeah, he guessed it could stay.)

***

After that more changes started to appear. Things that Crowley had never even thought about, let alone purposefully brought into existence. His Bentley suddenly had a cupholder for Aziraphale’s mugs of tea. There was extra space in the back for transporting books. One minor, throwaway comment about the sun being too bright and suddenly there were tinted windows, for heaven’s sake.

Crowley understood that his Bentley was alive, but it wasn’t supposed to have agency. Theoretically none of this stuff was bad, but who the fuck did the Bentley think it was, coming up with it all first?

By the time Aziraphale was commenting on how soft the seats were Crowley had had enough. He drove the blessed machine out to Tadfield with the express purpose of accosting an eleven-year-old.

“Did you give my car free will?!”

Adam was, objectively, the child most used to dealing with weird shit in his life. (Outmatched only (perhaps) by a young man named Warlock who’d had the dubious honor of growing up with a literal angel and demon over his shoulder. Both of whom were fools.) After coming into unfathomable power, nearly bringing about the end of the world, watching your not-Dad rise from the Earth in a fiery display, and then re-writing said world back to its basics, having a scrawny man yelling about free will while you were trying to eat ice cream didn’t even make the list of Top Ten Things I’m Dealing With Right Now.

So Adam dug more forcefully into his soft-serve. “Hey, Crowley.”

“Yeah. Hey. Nice day I guess.” It had occurred to Crowley right after he’d nearly hit the low wall of the Madisons’ garden and started shrieking at a group of children that this display would, perhaps, not be well received by the locals. And who wanted to deal with locals? So he reigned it in a bit and tried for a cheery wave at Mrs. Madison.

She scowled like a pissed-off peacock.

“Aren’t you going to say hello to us too?” Pepper demanded. She sat on the grass between Adam and Brian, the three of them trading ice creams every few moments. Adam now had the popsicle while Pepper had the soft serve and Crowley was decidedly not imagining him and a certain angel doing the same.

Wensleydale was off collecting ants to do Things with later.

Crowley sighed. “Hey, Piper.”

“Pepper.”

“What was your name again? No wait, never-mind, really don’t care. You. Antichrist—”

“Adam.”

“Adam. Did you mess with my car or not?”

Adam took the cup of cookie dough from Brain and exchanged a Look. The sort of Look that only children could pull off after numerous adventures together, filled with an hour’s worth of conversation boiled down to just a few ticks and movements of the mouth. He then exchanged the same with Pepper. Wensleydale was still too far off to hear the conversation, but he looked back as if hearing an unvoiced call, giving Adam a thumbs up. Throughout it all Crowley stood with hands halfway mashed into his pockets, shifting weight from foot to foot. He could feel Mrs. Madison boring into his back.

The moment was a short one, but what passed within it was given a great deal of consideration and weight. See, the Them hadn’t the slightest clue what Crowley was on about and Crowley, it seemed, was working under a number of assumptions that led to him not explaining himself one bit. Cars? Free will? Adam’s eyes strayed to the Bentley and while he could admit that it was a very nice looking car—if old—that was really all he had to say about the thing. He hadn’t exactly composed an itemized list of everything he’d wanted during the confrontation at the airbase. The only thing he’d been able to articulate within his mind was a Dad, Daddy, my Daddy in a voice that had sounded far younger than he actually was. Everything else had just been a ripple coming off of that. Now Adam experienced the same feeling as when Mr. Fell had called him up to thank him for the new books and Adam had responded with a “Wut?”

What the Them did know was that this was all very important to Crowley. Adam’s potential involvement got him riled.

So Adam gave the only logical answer he could in that moment.

“Yes,” he said.

The result was, to use a phrase, bloody spectacular.

Adam got back his original soft-serve. Pepper had the cookie dough. Brian the strawberry pop. They ate contentedly as Crowley went on a surprisingly creative rant about how kids could not and should not and in the future would not be messing with his car. Off to the side Wensleydale pulled out his phone to record the display, taking time to zoom in on Mrs. Madison’s expression.

Adam was still pretty out of his depth, but after a detailed account of all the Bentley’s new behaviors he felt a niggling suspicion and was compelled to say, “Kinda sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe you should listen?”

Crowley turned the same shade as his hair and Wensleydale, cackling, started uploading to Youtube.

***

“Dear, Adam tells me there’s a record of you on one of these social media sites. Would you perhaps show me how to—”

“Don’t click that!”

***

One week later the Bentley stalled.

Crowley stared in shock as it inched a couple feet, a couple more, and then stopped completely, out in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Well, not really. After hearing a highly edited version of Crowley’s visit to Adam, Aziraphale had insisted on a proper get-together the weekend following. Now here they were, partway between rural visit and urban home. There’d been food and drinks and piling far too many people into Anathema’s little cottage, all the things that might have interested a demon if Crowely had been able to focus on anything other than the smell of Aziraphale’s skin.

Another new cologne.

“Ah, Crowley...?” He spoke now, light and hesitant. “Did you mean to stop here?”

‘Here’ was a deserted stretch at 9:13pm, the stars their only light for miles. 

“No.”

“Can you—?”

“No.”

Crowley knew it with a certainty that set his teeth on edge. He couldn’t just miracle them going again. The Bentley wouldn’t allow it. Maybe it really was the influence of a kid capable of warping reality in ways no angel or demon ever could. Maybe it was just the result of decades spent in the presence of occult and celestial entities, soaking up a bit of power then and there until it had something worthwhile. (And if that was the case Crowley was terrified to think about what Zira’s bookshop might be turning into.) All he knew for sure was that his Bentley was different now.

Acting like a goddamn, meddlesome brat.

Aziraphale had shifted this way in his seat, that way, perhaps finally acknowledging to himself that he knew nothing about cars and therefore could do very little to help. Crowley heard a few more noises on his left and then, “The doors are locked.”

Of course they were.

“Angel—”

“Dear—”

Something about Aziraphale’s tone made Crowley pause. Swallow down the rising excuse and finally look at him.

It was quite the sight. Aziraphale’s cheeks were pink from Anathema’s wine and one of his curls was plastered to his forehead, a victim of the heat. Through the window Crowley could see the play of shadows along the fields, the stars he’d help hang, the moon nearly full. All of it paled in comparison to Aziraphale’s eyes though. Crowley figured 6,000 years, an unknowable amount of time before that... he’d still never seen anything like them. Most days he chalked it up to Aziraphale being all angel-y. On rare occasions he acknowledged that none of the other wank-wings’ eyes looked like that.

Love had a tendency to color the things it touched.

“Are you perhaps trying to tell me something?” Aziraphale whispered, a soft smile playing at his lips. It drew Crowley’s gaze.

He swallowed. “Not me.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh. It’s the Bentley’s doing...”

“Ah, I see. Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint your precious Bentley now would we?”

Aziraphale moved first. Six goddamn millennia and now he crossed the divide, pushing himself into the driver’s seat and half into Crowley’s lap. His hands made a beeline for his hair and cheek—one thumb tracing up towards the tattoo—and Aziraphale only paused for one more moment, six millennia plus one, his expression one of absolute rapture. Then he sighed and closed the gap.

Their first kiss tasted like something ineffable.

The Bentley began slowly making its way back towards London, leaving its occupants free to continue what they’d finally begun.

“I think,” Aziraphale laughed, pulling back as the scenery flashed by. “That this is the perfect speed for us.”

[littlehollyleaf]

Name ten favourite characters from ten different things (books, tv, film, etc.) 

Then tag ten people

Tagged (ages ago, whoops!) by @castiel-saved-me-from-myself 

(I’m sorry, I got distracted!)

1.Supernatural. Castiel.

Obviously. I may be out of the fandom now, but I’ve never loved a character as much as Cas, and probably never will.

2. Good Omens. Aziraphale.

Thought I’d put both my darling angels at the top :) I suspect that without Zira there to pave the way Castiel may not even have existed, so I love him double - for himself and for Cas as well :p 

While really quite different when it comes to their personalities (just think how Zira would SHUDDER at Cas’ trenchcoat), they share a lot of character traits and tropes (mini-series!Zira anyway, maybe less so in the book, or less obviously anyway), so, no surprise that I should adore them both. I’ve also said before, and I stand by it, that Aziraphale is sort of a combination of my favourite aspects of both Cas and Dean in one, with Cas’ struggle with Heaven/god and trying to be a good angel and finding he loves humanity/earth more, plus Dean’s whole ‘performing Dean’ thing and repression of queer feelings he is scared to admit to (out loud) because he believes they are somehow ‘wrong.’ 

...just to give a little insight into my feelings about these two that was neither needed nor asked for...

4. Hellblazer. NBC Constantine. Legends of Tomorrow. John Constantine. 

Aaaand the other guy I love twice because Cas, and indeed spn in general, kinda owe their existence to him. Though in turn his fabulous live action portrayal by Matt Ryan probably owes its existence to spn and Castiel’s popularity. So... there’s a weird ouroboros situation happening with my favs here that makes my head spin whenever I think about it, but I love it - stories within stories built on stories feeding off stories, which connects to wider themes of story and storytelling being vital and intrinsic to life and stuff.

Anyway, despite his wardrobe, Johnny is NOTHING LIKE CAS. He is, in fact, a lot like Dean. But I like him more. Maybe because he’s British :p He has the whole ‘repressing his feelings’ things, a bit like Zira, but it’s not because he thinks they are wrong, it’s more of a coping mechanism to deal with the constant tragedy/trauma his life/lifestyle/fate causes him to suffer. But whatever the reason, I like my characters facing that struggle :) (actually the British element is probably way more significant to my enjoyment of him than I’ve been fully aware of... that’s probably why I loved Zira so fast as well... obviously they are both a completely different class of British, literally, but the fact they ARE British is INTRINSIC to both their characters, and I guess a little, vaguely patriotic part of me is excited by that... :p)

4. Gotham. Edward Nygma.

Since I’ve started giving explanations - I love Eddie because he’s also got the whole ‘emotionally repressed’ / out of touch with (his) emotions thing going on (as seen in Zira and Cas), but with the addition of various geeky / ‘tech guy’ character traits that I also love.

5. Doctor Who (Classic). Vislor Turlough.

I waxed poetic once about how I liked Gotham’s Edward Nygma because he reminded me a bit of Turlough. That was early on in my Gotham days though and given how Eddie developed I don’t see as many similarities now. Turlough shares some of Eddie’s ‘dark’ traits however - self-centered, often lacking in empathy for others and nonplussed (sometimes even happy) to see them get into trouble or hurt. But ultimately his attempts to be self-serving and cowardly end up thwarted by him developing feelings for specific individuals despite his best efforts, which is what I enjoy about him (and actually that’s a lot like Eddie still, huh... their endgame’s are opposing though ofc - while Eddie goes on to embrace being a villain, Turlough gives up on villainy and even becomes a bit of a hero, now and then). Plus, Turlough is the ONLY Companion (IIRC?) to have joined the Doctor specifically in order to MURDER him and... idk, I just think that’s cool :P

6. Doctor Who (New). Donna Noble.

(I’m trying not to double up on fandoms/shows so I can cover more, but New and Classic Who count as different things, kinda, right...?)

Donna doesn’t really fit any of the character traits I’ve talked about above, though I guess her low self-esteem is something that all my other favs share in various ways (though it’s not such an EXPLICIT aspect of their characters and story arcs as it was for Donna I’d say). What I first loved about her was that after YEARS of New companions (and other randoms) being literally in love with the Doctor, she had a strictly platonic relationship with him. Yeah, I think maybe the show was a bit heavy-handed about it, but even so it came as a huge breath of fresh air and frankly a RELIEF to me. Not that I’m opposed to the Doctor having romantic/sexual  relationships, it was just that... coming from a childhood love of the Classic series where that just... didn’t happen (save a fleeting kiss in the TV Movie - which I actually enjoyed fyi!), it just... idk, was starting to stretch my credulity that EVERYONE seemed to be falling for him maybe? Or at least for me it was growing tiresome. So the fact she didn’t have that element to her character/story was a plus. Then I just adore how loud and brash she is when calling anyone, including the Doctor, out on their shit (I envy her that maybe). Plus I like the way she isn’t... traditional TV pretty, you know? (ie. young and slim, like a lot of other companions).

...or maybe I just like redheads *shrug emoji* 

7. Spartacus. Naevia.

(she has two actresses okay? and they both deserve kudos!)

Truth is I love FUCKING EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW. Spartacus is like... my PERFECT SHOW. There isn’t a single moment, a single plotline, a single character that I don’t enjoy. I have never even CONSIDERED looking up or writing fic because the finished product is completely satisfying exactly as it is. God. But I wanted it represented in this list so I had to pick someone!

Considering the time period there couldn’t really BE a ‘geeky, emotionally repressed with low self-esteem’ character :p BUT nearly ALL of the characters have the whole ‘struggle to understand/discover who they are’ thing and the ‘who I am and want to be is counter to who I’ve been told I am / should be’ arc, on account of the main cast being rebelling slaves (though the other characters are equally complex and compelling and I love them too - Lucy Lawless in particular is incredible!). Anyone who’s seen me blog about the show before might have thought I’d pick either Agron or Nasir as my favs, since I do like to squee over their romance. But whenever I think about the show it’s usually Naevia who I remember first, because her character arc/development just BLEW ME AWAY. She went from someone I’d kinda dismissed at first as a typical het love interest to a WARRIOR GODDESS and you SEE all the key moments of that growth, you FEEL it, it makes ALL THE SENSE. And her romance with Crixus, which again I was initially a bit dismissive of as a typical, sudden, weak het romance, grows into, imo, one of the deepest, most developed, most believable love stories in the show. So yeah. Naevia. Amazing.

8. Due South. Ray Vecchio. 

(he’s the guy not the dog - gifs were limited! ...also the dog is actually a wolf, it’s a whole thing... that doesn’t need exploring at this juncture)

Ray was my first TV crush :P He had a bit of a sidekick vibe to him I guess, which I like (lead characters tend not to interest me as much). He wasn’t ‘geeky’ exactly, but he def had the ‘trying to look/act cooler than I am’ thing going on... also an obsessive attachment to his vintage car... meanwhile his partner Benny was the stoic, ‘British, stiff upper lip, keep emotions in check’ one who was always trying to live up to the ideal persona dictated by his people/employers, in this case the Royal Canadian Mounted Police... HUH, so... it’s actually SUPER WEIRD that I ended up loving Cas and Zira over Dean and Crowley when it seems pretty clear suddenly that my first big fictional fav was CLEARLY the Dean-Crowley to Benny’s Cas-Zira......?? Ray was FUNNY in a way Dean and Crowley aren’t though, I think? He def filled a ‘comic relief’ slot on the regular and I liked that a lot (it also made his serious, angsty moments EXTRA serious and angsty, and extra angst is something I always love!)

9. The Librarians. Eve Baird.

Remember this little show? It was... is... sorta ridiculous. Not amazing. Based on some... very cheap, very OBVIOUS Indiana Jones rip-off films, that were also ridiculous and... not... great (the third one is the best, with an awesome performance by Stana Katic aka Kate Beckett as a vampire, but I digress). But... idek, I am EXTREMELY FOND of the series for some reason :p

There are a WHOLE BUNCH of characters that fit my ‘type’ more than Eve tbh... in fact... probably every.single.other.main.cast.member (save perhaps Jenkins?) shares the traits above that typically make a character my fav. But... EVE! I just... think she’s neat! ...maybe it’s BECAUSE all the others are main/lead characters that makes me gravitate towards her? In a cast where ‘geeky, socially awkward, struggles with emotions’ is the norm, Eve being the no-nonsense, socially competent, badass soldier type therefore becomes different and thus more interesting to me? Also, much like with Donna, I appreciate that she’s an older woman who gets to have a full character and plot of her own. There’s also something about her romance with Flynn that... makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

10. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Jonathan Levinson.

(tumblr gif search failed me so I had to grab from elsewhere...)

Listen. Look. Okay. Buffy is pretty old school these days so, for anyone not in the know, as a character, originally, Jonathan... he wasn’t even a side character, he wasn’t even REOCCURRING, he was barely a background character. For several episodes he didn’t have a name and it wasn’t until several seasons after he became ‘Jonathan’ that he actually got a surname. Danny Strong was just an actor who happened to be occasionally on-hand when the script called for a random to have a line, until eventually that happened often enough for Joss to think ‘hey, you know what, let’s make this guy an actual part of the show...’ 

He got a couple of episodes focused on him in S03 and S04 respectively, but didn’t become a regular until S06 (and wasn’t in S05 AT ALL). Other than that he had a HANDFUL of ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moments here and there, not even full scenes for the most part, usually lasting no longer than the above gif.

I tell you all this so that when I say childhood me (well... somewhere between 12 and 14 years anyway) was OBSESSED with this character in the show, and I mean O B S E S S E D (to the point of spending hours painstakingly making VHS recordings purely of the episodes he was in), you understand how UTTERLY BIZARRE that was. Because this obsession pre-dated S06. Was, in fact, in full swing during the airing of his S04 episode - which was, like, a fucking DREAM COME TRUE for freakily obsessed me fyi, because the whole episode was constructed with him as the LEAD CHARACTER, because he’d performed a spell to make him super awesome. They even changed the title sequence to read ‘Jonathan’ instead of Buffy! And while other fans were no doubt just lol-ing at the random I was bouncing about on my sofa all ‘MY TIME HAS COME!’ and fucking SWOONING over seeing MY CHARACTER suddenly in the spotlight and getting to do crazy fun OOC shit like this -

Then when S06 rolled around and HE WAS A LEGIT REGULAR, omg, I was in HEAVEN! First TV boxset I ever bought that - Buffy S06 :P

So... yeah. A bit of a fav. Geeky. Outcast. Slowly grows more morally grey, what with that spell I mentioned and also the fact he was teamed with the ANTAGONISTS in S06. I guess you could say he was the beginning of a lot of my fav fictional character traits/tropes (though looking back - I think his ‘villainous’ teammates in S06, Andrew and Warren, are more my ‘type’ these days, and I did end up loving Andrew especially a whole damn lot, but at the time I’d been a Jonathan fangirl for so.fucking.long. there was just no chance anyone else in the show was ever gonna come close to my heart!)

THE END.

Sorry not sorry for the tmi. I got a bit too into this one.

Actually sorry I have so few women on the list :( Internalised misogyny/sexism is a real thing and I spent a lot of my life being... somewhat unfairly dismissive of female characters or at least prioritising male ones over them. I’m working on it.

Ten people is SO.MANY. to tag. But I might as well do this right this time, since I’ve come so far. But if you’d rather not play, no worries! <3

@enchantersnight @momecat @bold-sartorial-statement @vampirebillionaire @edwardnashtons @miss-olivia-cellophane @knightinpinkunderwear @supes9 @leaper182 @hamburgergod

Honourable mentions (because I CAN):

Gotham. Lucius Fox.

Gotham. Fish Mooney.

Gotham. Tabitha Galavan.

Doctor Who. The Doctor.

Doctor Who. The Master/Missy.

Supernatural. Hannah.

Supernatural. Naomi.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Andrew Wells.

[crashdevlin]

Keeper of the Stars-1: Complicated

Author’s Note:  A multi-part sequel to Some of This Isn’t Bad

Summary: Y/n was a fan of the Supernatural book series who wrote fanfics and attended the conventions. After meeting the boys through Becky, she stopped being a fan and became a hunter. When she shows up at a hunter wake, she doesn't expect the Winchesters to remember her, and doesn't expect the argument that breaks out between her and Dean.

Pairing(s): Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3944

Story Warnings: 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!, fingering, oral (male and fem rec), protected sex

Chapter Warnings: none

You pulled in front of the large house and pulled your casserole out of the passenger seat. You never knew what to bring to a wake. Your first thought had been beer, but Bucky told you he was bringing a cooler of his home-brew, so you made a sausage casserole, knowing full-well Mrs. Lorraine Fox would probably toss it after the wake. You stopped as you walked past a black Impala. You considered leaving but changed your mind. This was about Asa, and Dean probably didn't remember you.

You hugged Lorraine and dropped the casserole on the table with the other food (mostly prepackaged items bought at the closest market on the way in) and headed for the beer in the kitchen. "So, what's the word, boys? Is it 'Wendigo', because 'Wendigo' seems like a good one. Love wendigos." You said as you pulled your pocket knife out and used it to lever the bottle cap off. The men at the table chuckled before taking their three gulps.

"You're a bitch." Bucky said, with a smile.

"Well, if you weren't so predictable with your secret keywords, Buck, I wouldn't have the opportunity to fuck with you." You took a drink of your beer and cleared your throat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go mingle with the other wendigo-hunters." They sighed, playfully, as they took another gulp of beer.

You walked through the house, keeping your eyes out for the Winchesters, who you found in the den. You were continuing into the sitting room, but Elvis saw you. "Y/n! Look who showed up! Winchesters!" He pointed excitedly at Sam, who looked down, embarrassed. Dean was in the corner, rolling his eyes at the man.

"The legends show themselves. Figured you were too caught up in your endless cycle of saving and endangering the world to show up to hunter functions."

"She says that like she knows you boys." Jody Mills was sitting on the edge of an ottoman near Sam. She was the only one you'd shared your origin story with, the only one who knew about your short history with Dean.

You chuckled as Sam looked confused, like he was trying to remember where he might know you. "Does anybody ever really know somebody, Jody? I posit they don't."

"Man, we don't have enough alcohol in our blood for a philosophical debate." Max said, looking down at his almost empty beer.

"Would it help if I stop using words like 'posit'?" You asked, walking to Jody and giving her a hug.

"It'd help if you shut up about that shit and tell us a story about Asa." Max responded.

You smiled and nodded, dropping down on the ottoman next to the sheriff. "Okay. I got one. So, you guys know I'm pretty fresh, right?" Everyone nodded. "Well, back when I was as green as the twins, I was on a poltergeist. I did a lot of hauntings back then, 'cause they weren't as scary, I guess. So, I flash my fake creds, ask about anything unusual and tell them that there's a perfectly scientific explanation for the crazy shit they've been experiencing. I told them to get out so we could test the place for black mold. They ran as fast as they could, left the place empty for me to run down the remains. So, I'm searchin' the place with my EMF reader and there's a knock at the door. I open, pretend I live there. It's Asa, flashing his 'Fox Mulder' badge." Everyone chuckled, knowing they'd all talked shit to the man about that particular alias.

"Anyway, he goes on this whole spiel about a gas leak that might be affecting the occupants of the house. I patiently let him get through the entire speech and then, I pull my EMF reader out and look him dead in the eye and say 'Guess I don't need this, then' and he sighed this huge relieved sigh, strokes his beard, and says 'Oh, thank God. Even I wouldn't have believed me on that one'." You laughed and the others followed suit. "He came in, we knocked out the spirit in a couple hours and then, he took me for a beer. Spent the whole night telling me all about hunting and giving me pointers. I mean, it's not five wendigos, but I like it."

Everyone groaned as they drank. "Asa actually took me on a wendigo hunt. Maybe I should tell that story." You finished.

"She's trying to kill us." Alicia accused.

"Hey, you guys should've picked a drinking game that I couldn't hack so easily."

A look of recognition crossed Sam's face. "I remember you."

"Do you?" You said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What was it, five years ago? You saved my ass from that little blond witch." Sam smiled and shook his head.

"It was four years ago." You corrected. "And you did your own saving. I just gave passwords and distraction."

"Gave more than that." Sam chuckled, taking a drink.

"Not to you." You muttered, lifting your beer in a mock toast.

"Wait." Alicia said, scooting forward to the edge of her seat. "I've known you for almost two years and you never thought to tell me you met the Winchesters?!"

You shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. I barely spent any time with them."

"'bout six hours." Dean finally spoke from his spot in the corner. "And most of that was spent with me."

You smiled at the room. "Well, you're the one who offered pie. If Sam had given me some pastry, I would've spent more time with him."

"Right. Pie and bourbon. That's why you were with me." Dean said, skeptically.

"Well, I can't think of another reason, Dean. Hoping for anything more can only be considered foolish." Dean's eyebrow twitched as you polished off the rest of your beer and stood, setting the empty on the table. "I need another beer. Anybody else?"

Dean followed you as you exited the room. "You're a hunter, now?"

You scoffed. "Of course, I am." You turned to him and poked his chest. "No thanks to you."

"What's that mean?"

"You come in, tell me everything is real, shake up my life and my entire worldview and then you never pick up the phone."

"What?"

You scoffed. "You gave me your cell number and told me to call and I did. I kept calling way past the point where it made me feel naive, calling and leaving shaky voicemail messages, so worried that I might be bugging my hero. You never picked up, never called back, even when I started leaving info about possible cases." You pushed your hair out of your face and looked up at him. "So, I started taking the cases, myself."

"That's dangerous. You know that's dangerous."

You nodded. "I do know that. I, also, know that I'm still alive, so..." You shrugged.

"Come on, Y/n. It's reckless to hunt alone."

"You've hunted alone. Sam, too. Your father hunted alone most of your life. I'm fine, Dean. I've survived; with a little help from my friends. Hunters like Asa, who always answered his phone for me."

"Yeah, I bet he did. I bet that lady-killer would drop anything for you."

You rolled your eyes. "Snide jealousy looks real good on you."

"You not even gonna let me explain?"

"Explain? Explain what? You gonna tell me that your phone was just always dead? That's gonna explain you sending me to voice after two rings? Or you showing up in Enid, Oklahoma after I left you a message about that taxidermist who got turned into a people pretzel?"

"Sam made us go. I didn't even wanna go on that one!" Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I got every one of your messages, but things... got complicated."

"Complicated?! Too complicated to answer your phone? Bullshit! As someone who knows, intimately, the complicated shit you've been through, you can't tell me that."

"I can, actually!" Dean exclaimed. "I was a demon two years ago, Y/n!"

You blanched, all anger flowing out of you. "What?"

Dean took a deep breath and leaned against the hallway wall. "Now, that's not an excuse for four years ago, just a... tidbit of complicated for you. When you were calling, I was focused on Sam and Cas... the angels that fell from Heaven. Those trials I told you about, to shut the gates of Hell, they almost killed Sammy. The only way to keep him alive was to trick him into saying 'yes' to being an angel vessel. Angel said his name was Ezekial, Cas, who was human because he had his grace stolen by Metatron, vouched for the angel, but he was really Gadreel, the angel who let Lucifer into the Garden. When I tried to get him out of Sam, he killed prophet Kevin and went to work for Metatron, who decided he was going to be the new God. While that was happening, there was also a thing with Crowley fighting for the throne in Hell with a Demon Knight named Abaddon, who I was obsessed with killing. I was so obsessed with killing that bitch that I actively sought out and accepted the Mark of fucking Cain because it was the only way to put her down." He bit his lip and shook his head. "The Mark of Cain changed me. I was... bloodthirsty, mean... Y/n, I hated me, Sam hated me, and I didn't want you to hate me, too. So, I just never answered the phone."

"So... how'd you-"

"Mark of Cain." He interrupted, knowing where you were going. "Metatron killed me, it brought me back."

"As a demon?"

"As a full-blown Knight of Hell."

"Like... the bitch you got the Mark to gank?" Dean nodded. "What was that like? I mean, I've been possessed, but that is-"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "You got possessed?"

You looked down, embarrassed. "Yeah, my tattoo got damaged in a fight with a shifter. It was still healing when I got grabbed by this demon, Yala. Asa exorcised it before it did too much damage. No one died. It was a good hunt."

"Yala... oh, I met that piece of shit when I was... He's one of Crowley's advisors. What'd you do to get his attention?"

"Who said I did something? Maybe Yala just needed a new meatsuit."

"Demons don't possess hunters on a whim, Y/n. They do it for revenge, or to get information. They do it to kill other hunters. Why you?"

"I might have been looking into Crowley's whereabouts and activities at the time Yala took me." You relented.

"Why the hell would you-"

"I was curious!" You defended. "I heard something big was making its way and figured Crowley had to have his hand in it, 'cause that's what he does, so I thought if I found Crowley, I'd find the Darkness."

"You were looking for the Darkness?" Dean asked, disbelieving. "You went from chasin' poltergeists to the Darkness in less than 4 years?"

"Well, I didn't get very far. Asa wouldn't let me keep lookin' after Yala took me."

"Amara would've killed you. She would have eaten your soul." Dean said, seriously.

"Amara? You are on a first-name basis with the Darkness?"

Dean chuckled, but there was an edge of anger behind it. "My connection with the Darkness is irrelevant. You got yourself on Crowley's radar."

"And you were a fucking demon! Who here has more to feel ashamed of?" You responded, your anger flaring back up.

"You shouldn't feel ashamed, you should feel terrified! Crowley might have gone a bit soft, but he's still fuckin' Crowley. He's still the King of Hell and you ought to-"

"Shut up, Dean." You interrupted. You turned and threw your hands in the air. "I don't need your help, I don't need your judgement, and I don't need you. I've done just fine over the last four years and for you to come in and try to tell me what-"

"You've done just fine? It sounds like Asa Fox kept you alive, sweetheart, and he's not around anymore."

You turned back to him and growled. "Fine! I'll just hang up my shotgun and go back to working retail!"

"No one said you had to quit! You just can't be this goddamn reckless."

"Are you kidding me?! You're gonna lecture me about recklessness?! You? Mr. Sell-my-soul? Mr. Let's-put-a-bullet-in-the-devil? Mr. Mark-of-Cain? You have no room to talk!"

"I have been doing this my whole life. I have been hunting and making stupid decisions since before you ever considered the supernatural. It's not reckless if you have experience, which I have in spades. You have a few dozen books and some pretty words. You wanted to live the adventure instead of writing about it-"

You interrupted him with a right hook to his jaw. He reeled back, shocked by the sudden pain radiating up his face. You rubbed your knuckles and shook your head at him. "Fuck you." You turned and stomped down the hallway toward the front door. As you got into your car and peeled out of the driveway, your phone started to ring. You didn't need to look at the phone to answer, putting the phone to your ear. "Yeah, Jody?"

"Well, that was explosive."

You sighed. "It could've gone better, but... whatever. He's an ass."

"Yeah. But he's a good man. You know he is."

"No. Asa was a good man and I'm sorry to cut out of his wake early. I'll be back in the morning for the burn, but... I can't be around Dean Winchester right now."

"Yeah. I heard some of that. We all heard some of that. The Banes twins are extremely jealous of you. That you... and Dean..."

"Oh, my god!" You had very specifically neglected to mention aloud that you... and Dean... "Those two are never gonna leave me alone about that. Shit."

"Yeah, unfortunately Sam has started regaling the group with a story about a hotel suite and... some very loud noises."

"Oh, no. I'm never gonna be able to face these guys again."

"Well, you're still coming back for the burn, right? Asa would-"

You shook your head. "I wouldn't miss it, Jody. If it were anybody other than Asa, I wouldn't show and I probably won't show for future hunter functions, but it is Asa and I need to be there for that burn."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you at sun-up. Don't drink too much."

You chuckled. "Probably will. I'll see you in the morning." You hung up the phone and tossed it in the passenger seat.

You'd definitely be drinking. Sam Winchester was telling a room full of hunters that you were a notch on Dean Winchester's belt. Dean Winchester disparaged your ability as a hunter. Dean Winchester was a dick, and Asa Fox was dead. As you twisted the cap off of your bourbon and flopped onto your motel bed, you looked up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Dean's jealous comment about Asa, and the implication he meant with it, had been true. Asa would have dropped everything for you. He had dropped everything on a couple occasions to come help you with a hunt. The man was quite a bit older than you, but you never hesitated to get in his bed, just like countless other women. Even knowing that there were countless other women, even knowing your friend Jody was one of those women, even knowing you were only on his list because he only saw you a few times a year... even knowing that there was absolutely no chance of anything real with him, you never hesitated.

You took a drink of your bourbon and stretched your neck to the side. "Asa, you beautiful dumbass. Couldn't just leave Jael alone, could you? We could be drinking together tonight. I never would have had to see Dean. No one would know my origin story. It's all your fault. Dumb jerk." You took another drink and kicked your boots off.

* * * * * * *

You pulled back into the driveway as the bodies were being placed on the pyre. "Why are there three bodies?" You asked Max as he walked up to your car. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh, you missed a horrible night. Jael possessed Alicia and killed Randy. Then, he took Elvis and twisted his head all the way around. You were lucky for leaving when you did, you missed a hard exorcism." Max answered.

"And the revelation that Bucky killed Asa." Alicia added.

"What?! Why would he-"

"He's a coward." Max answered.

You shook your head. "I can't believe... who's that with Lorraine and Jody?"

"Uh, some hunter named Mary. She's close with Sam and Dean." Max looked from the group of women standing by the pyre to you. "Not close like you and Dean, but..."

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn't just forget that over the night with Jael, could you?"

"Come on. Most hunters get into the gig with a tragic death, or... they're born into it. You actively chose to become a hunter because of a one-night stand with Dean Winchester. That's crazy. I can't believe you kept that story from us." Alicia whispered, excitedly.

You sighed. "It wasn't something I was proud of. Am proud of. Look, I'm just as much a hunter as anyone else. I didn't want you to know how I figured out everything, because I knew you'd think I was less... legit than the rest of you."

"No. Not at all. That makes you more legit. You chose, wanted, this life. That's more badass than anything we've heard." Max scoffed.

"Yeah, okay. I'm, uh, gonna go pay my respects." You said, stepping away. Jody looked back at you as you approached the trio standing in front of the pile of wood. She reached her hand back and pulled you closer to her side. "I'm sorry I missed the fun. Heard it was almost enough to make people forget my drama earlier in the night."

"Almost." Jody said, before gesturing at the blond. "Y/n, this is Mary Winchester. Mary, this is Y/n."

You turned, blinking at the woman dumbly. "Mary Winchester?" The blond nodded, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Mary Winchester? The mom? You're the- you- I thought- wow! I guess resurrection runs in the family. It is an honor to meet you." You finally came out of your stupor and raised a hand to shake hers.

Mary smiled, slightly. "It runs more in the family than you'd think. You, uh, you know Dean and Sam?"

You laughed, nervously. "Not really. I... we've met. It's not... uh, I'm... I know of them a-and you by extension, but..." You scratched your cheek as you tried to think of words that wouldn't make you seem insane. "I'm not exactly sure how to explain this, but suffice it to say, I'm a fan."

"I died in 1983 and came back from the dead in 2016. After figuring out laptop computers and smart phones, I'm not surprised by anything anymore."

You chuckled, opening your mouth to respond, but noticing Dean staring at you from across the front yard you decided against it. "Uh, I... if I have time after the burn, Mrs. Winchester, I'll explain." You said, nodding at her before walking away toward your car.

Dean stepped away from Sam and came to stand by you. "Please, don't punch me. Can we talk?"

"Are you gonna make comments about my recklessness and assume that I'm only alive because Asa took an interest in me?"

"No. Promise."

You nodded and took a seat on your car's hood. "Okay. Shoot."

"So, I figured out last night, sometime before the first body dropped, that when you stopped calling I thought you'd given up. I hoped you had. I wanted you to go back to your normal life, forget about me and hunting and Chuck's books." He sighed. "When you walked into the room, yesterday, in your boots and plaid with your Asa hunting stories... I realized that I missed an opportunity. Asa took you hunting and it should've been me."

You shook your head. "I do most of my hunting solo, Winchester. Asa helped... when I got in too deep. Which wasn't as often as you seem to think."

"Doesn't matter. I should've been there. I should've been the one to take you on your first hunt, I should've been the one you called when you got in over your head. I'm the one who started it."

"Technically, Chuck started it. He's the one who got me interested in..."

"But Chuck didn't make me tell you it was real. I did that and I still don't know why."

"Yeah, me either. My story wasn't that good, and my performance in the hotel suite obviously wasn't either."

He sighed, shaking his head. "That is so not true and you know it. I mean, come on. Asa came when you called. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart, bring the next generation of hunters up."

"You're assuming Asa only fucked with me because he was fucking me." You clarified.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not the only reason, but I know that it played a part. Look, I'm trying to apologize here and I don't think it's comin' out that way."

"Definitely not."

Dean ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "You should come with me and Sam. I mean... I never got to tell you about that Amazon. Or... Chuck. We found out where he went when he disappeared. You're never gonna believe-"

"Look, you don't have to do this. You don't have to... pretend that-"

"I'm not pretending anything. Y/n, I've thought about you. I've considered- shit... I'm really not good at this." He chuckled at himself and shook his head. "I want you to be... Come talk to me, at least. I mean, I'd like you to see the bunker, meet my Mom, hunt with the Winchesters, you know, but... I owe you a couple years worth of stories. I never finished getting you up to speed on what happened after the Apocalypse."

"I think we're up to 6 years of info, Dean." You said, smiling up at him.

"Well, if you come with me and Sammy, we can get you all caught up, and I promise I won't stop talking halfway through to have sex."

"Who said I would even be receptive to that?"

"How you look at me. Speaks volumes for you." He said, cockily.

You gave a little chuckle. "Fine. I'll listen to your stories, but that's it."

"You gonna come to the bunker or do you want me to come to your place?"

"I don't have a place, anymore." You patted your hood. "I've got a car. That's been enough for the last three years or so."

"Aw, look at you, little hunter." Dean circled around your car. "1970 Chevy Chevelle. Malibu?"

"It's a '67. A Chevelle 300 Deluxe. Someone is slacking on his Chevy knowledge."

"Why didn't you get an Impala? What kind of fan-"

"Ah! Not. Dude, Dean, I haven't been a fan in a long time."

He walked back to the front of the car, hands going into his pockets. "So, you don't write your little stories, anymore?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Haven't written anything in years. I've been too busy living the life to write about it."

"Well, that's sad. You were pretty good at it."

"Oh, shut up and give me directions to your bunker."

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme

SUPERNATURAL TAGS @letsby

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@adoptdontshoppets @spnskinnyballs

[toutallyahoe]

Hey Satan? K for the fanfic ask game. Also F, S, and X if you want.

Hello anon, lovely to see that your calling me Satan. Not that I blame you or anything... but anyways, to answer your questions in the Fanfic Ask Game...

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Oh, great question! To be honest, I have made a lot of angst now, not to mention I still have many drafts of those aswell but so far, the angstiest idea I had probably ever come up is the one of my obsessed/possessive James "Jim" Moriarty x [Name].

So far, if you read them, it doesn't look like that much. But the question here is "what I've come up with" which means it can be already existing or not... :)

I have plans on that obsession series with our beloved psychopathic Jim Moriarty~ All you need to know is... [Name] truly regretted ever loving the consulting criminal in the past and a certain assassin will also regret admiring someone he couldn't even have~

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh goodie! I already prepared for this as I actually have two dialogue scenes that I was rather proud off! Anyways, the one I'm showing you though is probably from the latest work I've uploaded in my writing accounts (Quotev, here, and Wattpad), it's from the Aziraphale x [Name] x Crowley: "Strange"

"Good morning," the [Hair color] haired man had said as he had not even looked up from his book. Like he knew the angel was looking at him. And as for Aziraphale, flustered that he might have been caught gazing at the human, he sputtered out his own greeting. "A-ah, yes-- u-um, g-good morning," the angel had softly and embarrassedly said as he turn to look at the lake to hide furthermore embarrassment.

The white haired being felt his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, how stupid was he to look at a random man far too long? His mind had already screaming at him that it was inappropriate and not to mention, most certainly creepy. Oh, the Almighty, may she strike him already from the embarrassment he had don--

"It is, isnt?" Aziraphale was snapped from his deprecating thoughts by none other than the man he had (creepily) stared at awhile ago. The angel took a moment as he turn to look at the [Hair color] haired male who was still reading his book, pushing his glasses (that the angel now had noticed) on the bridge of his nose to not fall as he continue to read.

Finally, the angel processed what the man had said as he sputtered out a confused, "pardon?"

The [Hair color] haired man merely continue to read with his lips twitched upward. He didn't answer the angel's question which made Aziraphale even doubted he talked again after the greeting but the white haired being was confused on what he meant. "Pardon me for asking but," Aziraphale started as he looked at the man, "what did you mean?" The angel finished as he watched the [Hair color] haired man had paused on his reading to turn and look at him briefly then looked at the lake with a smile on his lips.

"I have meant what I had said, but have I said what I meant?" The man cryptically said which brought confusion to the angel. The [Hair color] haired had narrowed his eyes to look at the white haired being beside him for a brief second as a chuckle then left his lips from the odd look of distress and confusion plastered on the angel's face.

"Ah, I meant to say was; it is a rather good morning," he cleared as he looked at the ducks that passed by his sight from the lake, a soft smile on his lips. "A lovely morning if I had to say so myself," he mused as he then turn to look at his book and read again.

I really just enjoyed this dialogue scene so much. Especially when [Name] had said, "I have meant what I had said, but have I said what I meant?" It's all just so confusing that I find it amusing.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Hm, well, I am always a sucker for:

* person A who didn't really care for other people until they meet person B who showed them what love and care is, props if person A realized they care and love person B when it was too late (person B leaving, dead, or in a relationship)

* awkward disaster partnered up with smart and formal

* mom friend with dad figure

* that gay disaster™ in the squad

* the blunt asexual tired of your shit friend

* there's always that innocent™ child in the group

* there is always a sleep deprived demon somewhere in the story

* wacky and goofy villains

* the happy and cheerful bean getting sad and the awkward/intimidating bean trying to cheer them up because they don't like them seeing happy and cheerful bean frowning or crying

* villain liking the hero and causes destruction to see the hero

* character attends a party and was told to put away all their weapons and they did as told which there were a shit ton of weapons a person should carry and when they tried to get inside, guard says "all of them," and they grumble and begrudgingly took out their hidden knife and throws it in the weapon pile

And a lot more but you get the gist, right? I am just a sucker of a lot of fandom tropes.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

The reader. :)

You should all know by now that in my works, mostly in angst and twisted obsession series, that if I can't kill [Name], I make him go into an emotional and mental torture~

And while he goes under some emotional and mental stuff, I laugh and watch the mess that I have created in my wake.

Causing emotional problems to the people who read my works is fun! :D

Well, those are my answers! If anyone wanted to ask, don't be afraid to do so! I enjoyed answering things, unless it's for school... school can suck a dic-- okay baiii

[silver9mm]

I was tagged (months ago?) by my best bat-friend @exaggeratedspecificity to name 15 songs that I love, and I was really inspired by her emotional stories behind her choices so I thought I’d put a little effort into mine, too. 

But the thing is, when I start thinking back to songs that mean something to me, like super personally...well, sometimes I just don’t want to remember things. I got really sick when I was 11 and now it’s systemic and chronic, and it turned me schizophrenic starting about age 16 and that lasted for another 15 years. Music, literally, kept me alive. It was my best friend, the one thing I could trust. It was how I found validation for the fucked up things I was seeing and the way I felt. It’s how I spoke to the outside world---anyone who knew me then got at least one mix-tape from me, sometimes dozens. I would take lyrics and write stories about my friends with them. I had to go home and get lyrics down on paper instead of going to parties. When I rode the train cross-country, I lugged my 300 disc CD book the whole way, clutched to my chest. I kind of want to be buried with my headphones in but I’m a little worried I’ll wake up from being dead when the battery runs out.

Anyway, in the last few years...basically since I discovered Supernatural, music has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Life in general has changed. It’s better. It’s more fun, more interesting. I’ve found a creative outlet, and especially concerning music, I’m not slathering my experiences, my insanity, my feelings of loss and isolation and paranoia and confusion all over it. I’ve learned how to step outside my little fear-bubble and enjoy music from a whole new angle. So I thought, instead of going through my 130 gigs of music and forcing myself to think about those songs that I love for personal reasons and thus scratching at emotional scars and scabs of my real life, I’d do something more fun for me and pick my 15 favourite songs that exemplify my 15 long Supernatural fics, because since I’ve been writing, my life has improved by leaps and bounds and there’s not a single traumatic memory attached to the experience.

That was really long-winded.

With You by Matt Simons: This is from the soundtrack to Sense Of Life, which is my first published fic. I’m so glad I wasn’t really ‘in the fandom’ when I wrote this, because I never would have had the guts to write it if I’d known how much most shippers don’t like OFC. I would have worried too much about Mary-Sue’ing or whatever whatever. What I wanted to write about was giving the boys something to love, and then taking it away from them, because if they aren’t hurting, what’s the point? So I gave Sam a separated-at-six-months twin sister, and Dean a sick angel, then I gave them reasons to all get naked in a room together, because little did I know, Plot Productive Porn™ would be my go-to writing device. Anyway, looming over the whole fiasco is John Winchester’s A+ parenting, which sets this story up in the first place, and I was so gleefully fulfilled when I randomly heard this song somewhere while writing the fic. I was like, yesperfect.

My job to control you, darling, though I barely know you, hoping you grow tired and start giving in. Spout of holy water pour it on my only daughter maybe there's a shot she'll begin again. So wrong

Lucky With Disease by Elbow: I think this would be Crowley’s favourite band. That said, this is one of my most favourite wincestiel songs and is perfect for Wash It Away---the first fic I wrote, and it shows. A few OOC things, but I just went with what I picked up from the light smattering of gifs that had crossed my dash---I hadn’t even seen a single episode of the show yet. My least favourite fic, but still...it’s not terrible, and I love the dynamic of hurt-angry!Dean and fixer!Sam and Cas falling somewhere in between, willing to do whatever it takes to help. I definitely stuck to the first two characterisations for the rest of my writing. 

Fell like a crippled crow Spinning through and breaking branches I'm in a bad way Call my friends, they'll know what to do

Not as handsome as my brother But I've been lucky with disease

And yes, I'm a better friend Than I've ever been a lover And that's not saying much But I'm not saying much today

Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless: In some different timeline, all I’m doing is writing Megstiel. But Never The Same is all I’ve managed and it’s typical---crazy!Cas and caretaker!Meg, bees, honey. Okay, honey as lube and bees around quivering nethers, but that ‘oh what the fuck okay fine’ sentiment is there that I always loved so much about Meg. 

I had everything Opportunities for eternity And I could belong to the night Then your eyes Your eyes I can see in your eyes Your eyes You make me wanna die I'll never be good enough You make me wanna die

Adolescence by Brown Bird: Rise Above It is my goriest fic to-date, and the sort of weird, sinister nature of this song seems perfect for it. Another wincestiel fic in the same vein of WIA but I think I got the characters down a little better. Dean can’t stand himself and thinks he hates Castiel for caring about him, and Cas, par for the course, makes things worse trying to make it better, but Sam knows just where to dig into the bloody mess to get it all right again. 

So long adolescence of the frightened soul You're entering the ritual Lay down your every fear upon the altar child Prepare to play the man's role

Stay strong the sound of screaming's just the sacred rite Of death begetting new life

We are here but for the grace of everything divine It's the providence that we must find

If (don’t ever blame yourself) by Last Days of April: People who can write early-season wincest are my heroes, okay. Dean’s a different animal now, isn’t he? I’m not even remotely suggesting he’s better one way or the other, just that he’s harder for me to grasp in the first couple of seasons. Harder for me to find his voice, and I can’t even say I really ‘got it’ with The Dawn Breaks...because I don’t fucking remember writing this fic at all. I have no idea where it came from, but it’s dark and dirty and Sam is toeing the line of making himself into the same monster that hurt Dean in the first place, but in the end, he pulls it off.

If it is hard to bear I'll hold the weight If there are things you ain't I'll compensate But you should never blame yourself Put the blame on everybody else 'cause they don't see what I see If no one understands I'll understand

Lovers’ Eyes by Mumford and Sons: ngl, the entire soundtrack for Becoming Less Defined is my favourite song. I fucking nailed it with these songs: perfect combo, perfect order, perfect atmosphere, but this song in particular showcases my particular obsessive trope here. I’m so fucking proud of this ’verse, and I’m climbing the walls to get back to it and finish it. I can’t leave omega-tainted!Dean and Wall-crumbled!Sam and sweet, insane omega!Jensen in limbo. I mean, there’s actual Purgatory to get to, after all. 

Were we too young, our heads too strong To bear the weight of these lovers’ eyes I feel numb beneath your tongue Beneath the curse of these lovers’ eyes But do not ask the price I pay I must live with my quiet rage Tame the ghosts in my head That run wild and wish me dead

Complicated Shadows by Elvis Costello: It’s hard to get Dean alone sometimes, but this song really conjures up that early-season hero that I was talking about before, and writing Turn In Early was supposed to be just a little jerk-off fic, some imaginative Deancest, but because I’m the worst, it’s all slathered in gentle pain. 

Well you know your time has come and you're sorry for what you've done You should've never have been playing with a gun In those complicated shadows Well there's a line that you must toe And it'll soon be time to go But it's darker than you know in those complicated shadows

John’s Star by The National: A reminisce fic, Dean’s B.S., 2001 is a rare moment of self-reflection for Dean, but he’ll only go so far back. I love the idea of Stanford-era!Dean, sidelined, a captive audience, listening to music he probably would never on his own terms, and hearing lyrics that just fucking hit home. There’s nothing explicit about this fic, no overt wincest, but it’s there, especially with songs like this.

I don't ever want you to come home again I don't want to hear your call, your voice in my room I am divine, my arms are stronger than rivers And when you feel that way, you want to feel that way again Forever

Once ruined, baby you stay ruined

Evidence by Faith No More: The sleaze that undercurrents all of Mike Patton’s music is perfect for Dress Me Down, a jealous!Jensen J2/Genevieve blackmail fic, because you can just hear Jensen lying to himself through the music. 

If you want to open the hole Just put your head down and go Step beside the piece of the circumstance You got to wash away the taste of evidence Wash it away Evidence, evidence, evidence Got to taste evidence I didn't feel a thing It didn't mean a thing Look in the eye and testify I didn't feel a thing Anything you say, you know you're guilty Hands above your head and you won't even feel me You won't feel me

Sedated by Hozier: I would normally pick Great Expectations by Elbow for this, but the dangerous, powerful carelessness of this song fits Something To Share just as well. Schizophrenic, self-destructive and self-harming!Sam and totally out of his depth!Dean make deals and promises to each other and I just really, really love this fic okay leave me alone I’m fine. 

You and I nursing on a poison that never stung Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it Somewhere for this, death and guns We are deaf, we are numb Free and young and we can feel none of it Something isn't right, babe I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin I'm somewhere outside my life, babe I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in So we're slaves to any semblance of touch Lord we should quit but we love it too much

Knock Me Out by Linda Perry: Back to my a/b/o ’verse with Between Two Minds, and we find poor Dean, omega-tainted and feeling like he can’t be loved, finally, finally starting to trust his little brother again.

You knocked me out You bit my lip You held me down and kept me sober Through all this time With no regret I guess that's just the way I liked it Maybe, when I'm free I'll realize all he really wanted To share all the peace Something I never wanted So wait, don't go Seems as though it's getting scary So please, don't you go

Feels Like by Buck 65: A song no one will listen to for a fic that no one reads. Dreamy, plinking piano for a fic that started out as a dream. My favourite artist with my favourite ending I’ve ever written. Give Buck and A Steep Fall a chance.

She found the lost boy, eyes that are crying closes Glad to be unhappy, boy gives her dying roses Ecstatic agony and nights of arousing glories Hungry hearts and hands that tell ten thousand stories Open wounds and the one word that filed under Her endless eyes have known hardship and wild wonder Kisses that cure and moments that cured the kiss Under a spell and maybe there's no words for this

I Drove All Night by Roy Orbison: The Mixtape Thing wasn’t supposed to be a fic, but I had to talk about why the songs were picked for the prompt ‘date night at the MoL Bunker’, and suddenly there was a sweet little wincest fic. Yeah, ‘sweet’. My fans were very surprised too. 

What in this world Keeps us from falling apart No matter where I go I hear The beating of our one heart I think about you When the night is cold and dark No one can move me The way that you do Nothing erases this feeling between me and you

Tell Me by Moby ft. Cold Specks: An alternative ending to BLD, But Then Again is the best thing I’ve written so far. J2/wincest/abo and so fucking full of angst and longing and good goddamn is it dirty. I’m so proud of it and myself for pulling it off, and even if I lose two more friends over it (i’m not bitter i’m very bitter), it’s still wonderful in my mind. 

Didn't have the heat I gave you memories Come deeper please I got nowhere to stay tonight Won't you make me stay? Keep your clear eyes on the prize And as I'm there Bring me to your knees

Baby Blue by Wolf Parade: Kill The Lights is the one unfinished fic on this list but I’m so close it counts. Fifty-nine songs to choose from. Five playlists. Over 100,000 words, and choosing one song to represent this brutal MCD fic is easy. Since it’s written from Sam’s POV, some of my favourite songs are the ones I imagine from Dean’s, and this is perfect. 

You're like a fool on fire To the water so blue I will come undone And I will run to you Sometimes we are an open flower Sometimes we are an open wound Sometimes we are a kind of echo chamber, wherein You're all fire and brimstone And I'm all that, too Burning blue for you

LISTEN

tagging @zmediaoutlet @omgbubblesomg @theboringprincess @chiisana-sukima @hazeldomain @indigoneutrino @dreamsfromthebunker  @bruisedmickey and anyone else who wants to do this (and if you’ve already done it, no worries ;)