#god i wish i still had my 22 year old skin that looked fantastic after being washed with bar soap and moisturised with a fucking body lotion

[fingertipsmp3]

Why has skincare got to be so… much

[scribhneoir-sidhe]

so i recognize that this is. a lot. but,,,, 6, 8, 14, 22, 25, 28, 33, 35, 37, 50, 55, 60, 63, 66, 69, 77, 86, 91, 104, and 122? :)

0_0

Oh thank you, this is a gift

Okay, here we go!

6 (a book with a pink cover) : I'm gonna cheat a bit because only part of the cover is pink but Wild Beauty by Anna Marie McLemore is one of my FAVORITE books, so I don't mind bending the rules. Five bisexual latina cousins all crushing on the same girl, magical realism, and a very good application of social messaging to the themes. I won't say more than that, but really go give it a look!! also my copy is signed Viva México by the author so that makes me love it more

8 (a book you finished in one sitting) : Okay, a couple years ago when Tiamat's Wrath by James S. A. Corey (book 8 of the Expanse series) came out, I started reading it at breakfast in the dining hall, continued during basically all of my classes, and then finished it sometime around 10 or 11 that night (I think). For reference, a quick google tells me that book is about 166,500 words. And I loved EVERY minute of it!

14 (a book that made you trip on literary acid) : Okay, that has definitely got to be Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir. Just. All Of It. God, she does some really fantastic things with narrative mechanics in that book, plus just the sheer brilliance of the plot and the mountain of questions and theories I had once I finished it. Also the memes. The memes made me trip literary acid.

22 (your favorite thriller) : Okay, I think I've literally only read one thriller (if it counts, I'm not sure), but The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo. I'm cheating since it's still fantasy, but I had a limited pool of options.

25 (a book by your favorite author) : Okay, so I tend to like books or series more than author's specifically easier to like a work of fiction than a person but I'm gonna go with The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien. I grew up reading his books and I've definitely taken a lot from his writing for my own style, and I still love the Hobbit.

28 (a book you wish you could read as a beginner again) : Oooh this is a really interesting one. I think I'd say Museum of Thieves by Lian Tanner. I can’t remember when I first read it but it’s a middle grade story all about defying authority and escaping corrupt systems. I really need to reread it at some point.

33 (a book with a white cover) : The Weight of Feathers by Anna Marie McLemore! (can you tell I like their writing?). Star crossed lovers of two performing families with magical realism threaded through the narrative! Really fun read and I always appreciate latine characters. There's also Roma representation as well!

35 (a book featuring the found family trope) : I'm gonna attempt to not read any well beaten paths, so I'll say Caliban's War by James S. A. Corey, the second book of the Expanse series (okay that's technically a well beaten path, sue me). A lot of the book is the main characters figuring out their group dynamic and challenging each other to be better and it's just so goooooood!

37 (your favorite heist book) : I mean, what else could I put here? Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo, hands down. Narrowly beats out Six of Crows, only because it has more cons, more emotions, and also Nikolai Lantsov. I'll never get tired of that book.

50 (a book that made you cry a lot) : oh boy, I could say Crooked Kingdom again, that’d be true. But instead I’ll say Persepolis Rising by James S.A. Corey (I read a lot of series, sue me. Also that series is gonna be 9 books long by the end, there’s a lot of material). Anyway I won’t say why I cried, it’s a spoiler, but oh man. I weeped.

55 (a book with a satisfying ending) : The Empire of Gold by S.A. Chakraborty! I really liked how it ended, it placed a lot of focus on the platonic relationships, it left a lot of plot open ended so it felt like the world was still alive, and it showed the main character as being in a position of power while still retaining the subversive and roguish qualities from the start of the series that I loved.

60 (a book that you think about at 3am) : The Empire of Bones by N.D. Wilson. This is the 3rd book in my favorite series, the Ashtown burials and just….. wow there is so much. It has so much depth to it while still being about a 13 year old standing up to a cadre of ancient death and pain gods. It has one of the most beautiful monologues I’ve ever read and that shaped my understanding of compassion and heroism. It has an orange mohakwed Irish monk.

63 (a book that actually made you laugh out loud) : I knew it would make it on the list somewhere but GIDEON THE NINTH BY TAMSYN MUIR. God this book was funny! I won’t spoil any of the jokes, but Gideon is a sarcastic little shit and I love all of her banter with Harrow and the rest of the characters get plenty of cracks in as well.

66 (a book that fucked you up) : oh boy The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch. This book had some visceral shit in it. Like, not exactly in a bad way, its not a game of thrones situation, but stuff that made my fucking skin crawl. Very good book, I heartily recommend.

69 (your favorite mythological retelling) : I’m gonna go with Odd and the Frost Giants by Neil Gaiman. I first listened to it in audiobook form while on a road trip through the southwest and I really like coming back to it. Sort of reworks the original myth it borrows from, but in a really delightful and fun way.

77 (a book so useless you could use it as a coaster) : ATLAS SHRUGGED BY AYN RAND. Alright, I’ll be honest, I have not yet read this book. I probably will someday just to see how bad it really is. But from what I know about it I would rather get drop kicked off a roof than read that pile of self important, self centered ego circle jerking. In conclusion, I don’t like it.

86 (a book with an insane plot twist) : Okay a bunch of the really insane plot twisty ones I’ve already mentioned and I don’t want to do repeats, so I’m gonna bend the rules and say The Silent Bells by N.D. Wilson, fourth book of the Ashtown Burials series, a book that is not technically finished yet, it is being released serially in this really cool faux newspaper format. The plot twist is that this story ever got off the ground, because due to legal and publisher shenanigans the author wasn’t able to publish the book until 7 or 8 years after the last book came out. But he did! And I’m very happy!

91 (the shortest book you've read) : That would probably be Signs Preceding the End of the World by Yuri Herrera, translated by Lisa Dillman. It’s a really good book I read for an English class about a girl who crosses the US/Mexico border in search of her brother. It’s got a really interesting narrative style that I wasn’t used to and a really cool thematic structure related to the nahuatl journey to the underworld.

104 (a fluffy sweet read) : oh man, that’s tough, I don’t read a lot of fluffy things, even tho it’s what I prefer in my romances. Yeah, the closest I can get is Wild Beauty by Anna Marie McLemore again. (See the first question answered)

122 (your favorite winter read) : Hmmm I don’t necessarily have seasonal reads, but I’ll go with an old family classic The Christmas Mystery, which is about a boy who finds an advent calendar with little scraps of paper behind each door, telling the story of a little girl who in the process of chasing a lamb runs away to Bethlehem (and back in time) to the birth of Jesus, meeting angels and Shepards and other biblical figures. It’s a really sweet story and my family used to read each chapter every day of advent until Christmas Eve.

[queencassiopeia6]

Take me back to the night we met .0

The next morning I did my fair share of traslating texts (I’m a linguist) and finished up after midday to catch the bus out of town to spend the rest of the weekend at my family lake home. During the one hour ride I checked my insta multiple times (like people check the fridge) to see if maybe D had posted anything, even a story. I had liked a couple of his posts that same morning. I felt oddly drawn to him, this wouldn’t be the first time a boy had gotten my attention, but this was a boy I knew almost nothing about. hence odd.

The day with family was nothing out of the ordinary, we did some planting, some watering, I took a wonderful long walk along the lake, breathed in that late spring merky lake water and felt in place. It was around dinner time, when I was sitting down on the cold sandy lake shore staring into the cold water thinking about what this coming summer may bring, that my phone notified me that I have recieved a DM, from no other than my new-made friend.

I panic. A lot. My hands get sweaty and shaky. My heart races. And since my blood pressure is already low, it drops even lower and as my head starts to spin everything tends to go black as I feel like I am about to pass out. So now yall know just how I felt as a reaction to that text I recieved. It was a hello and a thank you to me liking D’s posts. I wasn’t sure how to react, can’t just say “oh, don’t mention it”, (by the way - I also overthink. Overthink everything). And as I was nervously trembling my thumb over the keyboard, he texted again - how’s it going, whachu up to. I am that much of a weirdo, that it took me about 20 minutes to get myself together to reply to that little message! God help me. After that, everything seemed so much easier. It’s as if we’ve been chatting for ages, like we knew each other. We hit the keys back and forth until well after midnight, just finding out everything about each other. Movies to recommend, music that is life, flavored tobacco etc. I ended up passing out at some point and kind of left him hanging, to which he waited for an hour, and bid me good night. The next morning I felt stink that I passed out without warning, so I sent a few random messages, so that when he woke up - we’d have something to go on.

It was just after lunch time, while we were packing up for the long drive home that D replied. My hands were kind of busy so I took my time with getting back to him, which I wish I hadn’t. D figured I was preoccupied, so after a few texts, he sent a voice message asking if I were keen to have coffee later today, hinting that it would be a lot easier to have this conversation in person. I don’t think I need to mention how nervously I agreed to have coffee with him. And after 3 hours of washing the smell of burnt wood, old leafs and paint off me, after putting on a full face of make up, then washing it off cause it was waaaaaaaaaay too much, and doing it all over again - I felt like I was ready to have coffee.

We met at a coffee palace in an atrium of a near by hotel. Me being me, too resposible to be late EVER, arrived early. I had been sitting down with my tea reading from my phone when D walked in. In the few moments while he looked around to find me, hung his coat and ordered a coffee, I got a decent look at him, properly. D wasn’t much taller than me, I’d say we were about the same height. His dark, near black hair was streaked with natures highlights, at the young age of just 22 his head was was flowing with grey hairs. To be fair, much like mine, but I felt the pressure of society to cover that up in order to avoid questions of why I had so much grey hair while being only 26. I couldn’t tell much about his physique due to a baggy sweater and straight cut jeans. As D sat down and we started talking, I got a good look at his eyes. They were a mixture of colors I had yet not witnessed. Much like hazel, but darker, a lot more mahogany in his iris. But when the setting sun which lit up the atrium hit the top of the building behind my back and shined into his face, I saw a million emerald sparks that had settled all around the hazelhunt iris. They were overshined by the amber streaks that made his iris look like a golden sky of constelations, as for the every jade spot, a golden line would lead from there, to another one. I must’ve dazed off and had began to stare as I noticed that D was now quietly checking out my appearance, which must’ve made me blush like a mad woman since he smiled from ear to ear, and said that he was just mirroing me. Now that might sound awkward, but I suddenly felt right in place, as if I hadn’t been blushing cause D had caught me staring. In place, like there was nothing wrong with me getting a closer look at him. And I knew D felt the same, well, cause he told me that there was nothing wrong with him noticing that I too have oddly colored eyes, that my freckles don’t settle much over my face other than my nose, but they are well spread over my neck, collar bone and shoulders, like stars. Now that one made me blush.

We talked, a lot, a few hours worth, about everything. The tea had been refilled and there was a few origami roses made from table tissues. It was almost dark, the sun was barely getting through the tall buildings which this town was made of, when D offered that we take a walk down a few blocks from said hotel to the place where we had met, the place where he no longer worked but is always welcomed at, and smoke a delighful sheesha - LBB. That sounded fantastic. A lovely way to end an evening, a weekend. I’m saying the word end as if this person wasn’t to stay in my life. As if he wouldn’t occupy my mind for the next year and a half (so far) and that I wouldn’t go a single day without thinking of him. As if I wouldn’t grown to hate him at moments but feel the biggest relief when I would see him and wouldn’t be able to help myself but to smile when he was around.

The walk didn’t take long thankfully as it had gotten rather chilly outside and my leather jacket wasn’t doing a great job at keeping me cozy anymore. I shared my ear buds and we listened to my infinte playlist as we continued to talk about random things. At LBB we met up with O and M and sat down for an evening filled with sheesha and Monopoly (which I hate but we were short on entertainment). I realised that the clock had stricked after mid night only when O reminded me that we were to start work earlier on Mondays due to her physical therapy after a minor bike incident she had while in Bali. M began to pack up the game as her boyfriend (N) arrived to chill a little and then drive her home. I looked at D and he mentioned that time does fly when you’re enjoying yourself, and with a suddent blast of confidence I said (not asked) - “walk me home”. With my peripheral vision I saw how O’s facial expression changed in a smile of surprise to a nod of being impressed, she hadn’t seen me flirt before and knew how shy and socialy awkward I can be.

As we stepped outside, O kissed me goodnight and got into her cab, D said that we were taking a different route this time, a longer one. I asked if that was a good idea due to the temperature taking quite a drop and how I wasn’t dressed appropriately for a long walk. D told me not to worry, he said he’ keep me warm. As he took my hand I felt his palm tremor, his hand was so warm but rough skinned yet oddly comforting - “your hands are so cold, it’s insane!”. Having low blood pressure, being anemic and it being cold outside was a triple threat, but with my newly found blast of confidence I quickly remembered a witty come back “they’re not half as cold as just under oxygenated” (yes I do enjoy The Fault in Our Stars). D’s smile grew fondly as he took a step towards the garth’s and nodded his head in the direction of the street lit alleys, as if asking me to follow him. I think at that point it hit me - this was a date, and oh boy was I happy about it. As we walked towards my house we discussed the causes of anemia and my witty remarks about how not everyone was given the gift of having a 1000 degree body temperature, seriously, this guy was like his own sun. And the topic of being single came up too. Not one I favor to discuss, but I layed all my cards out in front of him - make sure that it was all on the table and so he knew that I don’t enjoy letting people in, making sure he knows that goodbyes are hard on me.

Turned out M lived only a few blocks away from me since D mentioned that he felt like I was taking him to her place as we got closer to mine. The conversation was growing quiter as we reached the entrance of my apartment buidling and his hand had gotten hotter as well as mine sweatier (face palm). We both knew that this date was bound to come to an end at some point, but neither of us had wanted that point to any time soon. We stood at the door, I jangled my keys trying to not look at him because I didn’t know what would come next. I mean I knew what I wanted to come next, but plans don’t always coexist in seperate minds. To be honest I found myself at that rare moment when my mind drew a complete blank. Nothing, not even a tumbleweed. D was still holding my hand, and was at an arms reach when he took a step closer towards me turning that distance nonexistant. I nervously looked up and met his stare. I could tell D was slightly worried about what was to come also, but trust me, not like I was. We looked at each other a few seconds as he told me that he’s really like to kiss me right now, followed by permission to do so, asking me - ‘what do you think about that”. “I find myself not thinking at all right now” I replied honestly. D leaned his head forward, took my face into his hands and our lips locked. I’m not gonna say it was magical. That would be the understatement of the century. My lips were bigger, much bigger than his, so with every lock we made I got to feel every chap in his dry lips, every curve his tongue made when he’d try to lick his own lips in the quick betweens of head movements. His left hand still holding my face and his right hand had slowly moved down my neck, over my shoulder and under my arm to my weist and pushing my torso into his. I in return had my left hand on his shoulder, sinking my fingers into it as if terrified that at any moment he would dissappear. My right hand was on the back of his neck at the contour of the hair line and bare skin. Gently running my fingers upwards into his short hair, clenching all I could in a fist and pushing my face into his.

I don’t know how long we were kissing in front of the entrance but it must have been a while since the motion detector light went off and we were standing in complete darkness when D’s phone had rung and interrupted us. He pulled his face away, and removed his left hand from my face to get his phone, whilst keeping him right hand on my weist, as if to let me know that we were not done here. It was M, calling to inform him that while she was closing up, she had found his back pack and if he would like her to drop it off or if he’d prefer the keys to the lounge so that he can later pick it up himself. He said that he’d prefer the keys due to not being ready to go home quiet yet. D winked at as he said that last bit and pulled me closer. I blushed knowing that this not ending just yet and that there may be more to come. We held each other and talked for the next 5 to 7 minutes while waiting for M and N to drive up and hand D the keys to LBB. We saw them pull into the parking lot and as M hopped out and walked towards us I could tell she was feeling at least slightly excited. Her big brown eyes were lit with sparks and her large nude colored lips were moving in in a smirk, the girl knew she had interrupted something juicy. We exchanged pleasantries as she handed over the keys and wished us a “most sensible” night and laughed as she hugged me goodbye. As D and I watched them drive off into the night, we giggled like we were 15 and had just been caught by the school staff while making out behind the bleachers or something. I said that I can not invite him inside my apartment as I do not live alone, but we could at least move this party to the stairs in the entrance hall way. So we did.

I think I’d like to leave the rest to another tbc

[visceralcalum]

Pilot - Part 1

Word Count - 1881

Pairing - Dean x OC 

Warnings - language, blood, death, basically everything supernatural offers

A/N Here you go, I’m gonna give it a shot with this and see how it goes. This one is mostly prologue and the start of the pilot.  Please leave comments or send them to me privately if you want! I’m not great at this, honestly no clue how this works since i’m used to ao3, comments are definitely welcome! If you wanna get tagged, also please ask! If part 2 is uploaded I’ll edit this post and put the link in the bottom :)

Prologue She stretched on her toes, attempting to get the last remnant of the white walls with the thick brush. She cringed when her arm came in contact with the wet paint. She’ll have to redo that section for a perfect porcelain finish, she thought as she dipped her brush in the tub lying a few centimeters away from her feet. With a steady hand, she brought the bristles down the wall, watching them leave a trail of red behind, hiding the faint marks left from the posters of her Johnny Depp phase. She did a double coat on that section as she remembered how she would stay awake attempting to differentiate the shades of brown in his eyes.

As she stepped back, she twirled around the room as the old sheets protecting her carpet from paint spill, wrapped around her ankles. She glanced, letting her eyes jump of the four walls, remembering the many photographs she had stored on them. There was her high school graduation photo, where she was smiling at her grandmother instead of the lens. One of her old best friends stood next to her, showing the camera her diploma with a sly smile, as the tassels of her cap fell on her face, visibly annoying her. Then there was the photograph of her family on a beach somewhere in Spain when she was just a baby that sat on her dresser, and above her desk she used to have the photographs from her photography phase from freshman year.

And then there was the one that used to hang next to her window, the one with the broken frame. It was her most recent picture, and with recent, she meant about 5 years old. A picture of her and the Winchester brothers.

The boy on the left was about 17 years old when the picture was taken, he was slightly taller than the other guy and he was wearing a plaid t-shirt. The boy, Sam, would be, what, 22 years right now? She counted on her fingers. Yeah, 22. That would make Dean, the other boy, 26 at this moment. Dean was leaning against the car behind them, a 67’ Chevrolet Impala. He was laughing at some cheesy joke she just told him.

It’s been two years since she last saw either of them, mainly because Sam went to Stanford, and she also left for college while Dean stayed with his dad, John.

Sam  tried to keep in touch for a while, but it faded away when he started dating some girl he never told her about. She and Dean hadn’t spoken since the night she left.

She freed her ankles from the old sheets and dipped the brush in the tub and started painting again, thinking about the night when everything went to shit. She stood there with her hand wrapped around the doorknob waiting for him to speak up and ask her to stay. After what seemed like years he spoke, “So, this is it?”. He asked it if as everything that’s ever happened between them never existed. She psychically could feel her heart throb, and not in a good way.

After swallowing the lump in her dry throat, she opened her mouth. “I guess so.” “You know I didn’t want it to end this way.” he said as she heard his footsteps walk across the dark brown wood floors she’d grown accustomed to. She felt his presence too close to her and she sucked in a breath.

“I should probably go then.” “It almost feels like you want things to end, and that you’re leaving.” he said bitterly. “That’s where you’re wrong!” she shot back, letting go of the knob and turning around. “How so?” he said. He didn’t realize how fucked up this situation was, or maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. “You haven’t gave me an ounce of your time since I’ve came back to Bobby’s and it’s like you brush of my presence every time I’m with you. I don’t know what your problem is, but it seems you most definitely wanted things to end and it’s easier just to say that then play games with me.” she said, raising her voice and squeezing her hands into fists.

He stood there, watching her with his flashy green eyes and his arms folded across his chest. “C’mon Princess, you know that’s not true.” “Don’t call me princess.” “Elizabeth, you’re overreacting, just calm down.” It was the first time in months he said her full name which meant he finally realized he really fucked up this time. “I’m not overreacting, I’m done.” she semi-shouted and turned back around and went to open the door when he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t leave me like Sam did.” He whispered. If she looked in his eyes, she could see tears forming, but she avoided making any eye contact. She pulled herself free from his grip and gave him one last glare.

“Bye, Dean.” He tried calling her every day for the next month, leaving voicemails and text messages, before he eventually gave up and left her alone. After that she moved back in with her grandmother and went to college. She tried to forget about her so called ‘old life’, the life she had when she was living with the Winchester family, but how can you try to live a normal life when you know there is nothing normal about it? When you know about all the things that bump in the night? Liz had seen it all. From ghouls to vampires to wendigo’s. It was all real, and she tried to live a normal, apple-pie life.

That was a total lie, even after she went to college she was still hunting. Nothing big, small cases around her campus and her hometown. Ghosts usually, nothing she couldn’t handle alone. If something bigger, like a nasty demon or crazy rugaru, she’d call Bobby. Bobby Singer was an old man who basically adopted the Winchester boys and even her when her parents died and her grandmother couldn’t take care of her anymore when she was younger. He’d help her out. But it was their secret, he promised he wouldn’t tell Dean or John how she was or where she was.

It was summer break, meaning she could finally leave her college for a good six weeks and move back in with her grandmother. She decided to paint the walls of her old room, giving it a fresh, new look. She looked at the walls she painted red and nodded. She put the lit back on the paint and threw the brush on the sheets before walking downstairs, just in time to see her grandmother struggling to stand up.

She walked over and helped her. “Thought you needed a hand.” Liz said. “Where ya need to go?” she asked. “The kitchen table.” Her granny said and Liz helped her. “I still think you should buy a walker.” Liz said. “You know I’m too stubborn for that. Wait ‘till I break my hip.”  She snorted.

“I found you a case, by the way.” Her grandma said when Liz helped her sit down. Liz frowned. “You found me a case?” She repeated and her grandma nodded. “Yeah, Jericho. Not far from here.”

Liz watched her grandma reaching for the newspaper and gave it her. She looked at the circled article. “Boy went missing. He isn’t the first one. Thought you might like it. It’s better than being stuck with me for six weeks.” She said. A smile formed on her wrinkled face. Liz took a moment to read the article before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Sounds like a case. I’ll look into it.”

And after a night full of research, she decided to check it out.

Pilot

It was around 2am when she arrived at the Sylvania bridge in Jericho. It wasn’t a long ride, Jericho was about 30 minutes from Santa Ana, where her grandma lived, she just wanted to make sure this was really a case and needed to be prepared for whatever she walked into.

She found an article about a woman who lost both her children in a freaky bathtub accident, and then thrown herself off the bridge. So, this seemed like as good a lead as any. Elizabeth parked her car and started walking along the bridge, looking for answers. It was cold, and at this point she’d wished she’d stayed with her grandma, instead of going on a hunt blind, but whatever. It was a good waste of time. She was totally off guard when a woman in a white dress suddenly appeared in front of her. Before Liz could even lift her arm to grab her gun, the lady in white already threw her over the side of the bridge.

A small scream escaped her mouth, before landing in the ice cold water. Thanks to a huge area of mud and slop that broke her fall, she didn’t break anything. She spit out some of the mud in her mouth. “Yeah, that wasn’t a smart move.” She said to herself and pulled herself up, and that was when she heard voices on the bridge, it sounded like two men having an argument. Fantastic, if the spirit just threw her of a bridge, she can only imagine what it would do to some screaming idiots.

Elizabeth stood there for a moment, not moving and eavesdropping on the men, instead of making herself known. “Don’t talk about her like that!” the one man seethed at the other. Some more inaudible worlds, followed by the revving of an engine and one man asking “Who’s driving your car?”

Oh shit.

She looked up to see the two men jump from the bridge, one of them catching himself on the side of the bridge, the other landing not far from her. Liz grabbed her gun from her back and glanced over at the man, who was covered in mud and god knows what else, just like herself.

That was when she saw the unmistakable green eyes. “Dean?” Dean stared at her for a moment, before he realized that she was really there and not some hallucination. “Elizabeth?” he said with a quivering voice. “The one and only.” She said.

Was this really how their first conversation after two years would be? Covered in mud and sarcastic comments? Dean pulled himself up and grabbed her shoulders. “Are you okay? What are you doing down here? Are you hurt?” he asked worried, checking her skin for any injuries. “I’m fine. I was on a hunt. What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Looking for dad. It’s a long story. You went hunting, alone? Bobby told me you’d quit hunting! Are you insane?” Dean asked. He sounded like my dad. “Jee, Dean, nice to see you too.” She rolled her eyes. Then, she heard a voice coming from the bridge. “Dean? Dean!”

Elizabeth looked up, recognizing that voice immediately. “Is that Sam?” she asked. Dean nodded. “Yeah. As I said, it’s a long story.”

“Hey! Are you alright?” Sam shouted again. Dean lifted up his arm and gave him an A-OK sign. “I’m super. Actually, I’m fantastic. You’ll never guess who I found down here!” he yelled back.

Part 2