#sedan full size

[manualwheel]

2023 Volkswagen Jetta

[automotivealchemy]

Kia K9 Full Sized Sedan Concept

What if... Kia brought back the K9 full sized sedan to the market to shake up the industry to bring back full sized sedan market out of the abyss. This would be a sport oriented sedan, equipped with a turbo charged V6 motor with hybrid platform to assist in moving this rig. This would be offered with standard all wheel drive automatic drive train with the hybrid system focusing on power to the front of the vehicle.

[lakeplacld]

My ass cannot fit in a Nissan Z

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1967 Ford Galaxie 500

Ford Galaxie 500 (1967): A Timeless Classic

Wow! This iconic beauty is a 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. Its sleek lines, powerful engines, and luxurious interior have made it a beloved American classic. Let's dive into 10 amazing stories that have shaped this legendary car:

1. Full-Size Sedan Elegance: The Galaxie 500 offered a spacious and luxurious interior, making it a popular choice for families and executives.

2. Performance Options: The Galaxie 500 was available with a variety of powerful engines, including the 428 cubic inch Cobra Jet V8, offering thrilling performance.

3. Cultural Icon: The Galaxie 500 has appeared in countless movies, TV shows, and music videos, cementing its status as a cultural icon.

4. Racing Success: The Galaxie 500 proved its performance capabilities on the racetrack, competing in various racing series.

5. Collector's Item: Due to its popularity and historical significance, the Galaxie 500 has become a highly sought-after collector's car.

6. Modern-Day Appreciation: The Galaxie 500's classic appeal continues to captivate car enthusiasts, with many seeking out these vintage vehicles for their timeless style and character.

7. Community and Passion: The Galaxie 500 has a dedicated community of enthusiasts who share their love for this iconic car through forums, social media, and car shows.

8. Timeless Design: The Galaxie 500's classic styling has aged gracefully, making it as desirable today as it was in 1967.

9. Driving Experience: The Galaxie 500 offers a comfortable and enjoyable driving experience, with its powerful engines and luxurious interior.

10. Iconic American Automobile: The Galaxie 500 is considered one of the most iconic American cars of its era, known for its reliability, performance, and style.

[todays-xkcd]

Hint: If you ever encounter this puzzle in a crossword app, just [term for someone with a competitive and high-achieving personality].

A Crossword Puzzle [Explained]

Transcript

[A square 15x15 crossword puzzle is shown. Only 21 of the 225 squares are black. The black squares are in a pattern that are 180 degree rotationally symmetrical. Three black squares down from the 11th column and similarly three black squares up from the 5th column. Three black squares out from the right in row 7 and then two more black squares diagonally up from the end. Similarly three black squares out from the left in row 9 with two more black squares diagonally down from the end. A single black square is three above the first black square on the diagonal going down to the right and similarly there is a black square three under the first of the diagonal squares going down to the left. (Row 6 column 12 and Row 10 column 4). Finally there are three black squares on a diagonal crossing over the central point by going up from the left through the central point (Row 8 column 8). There are numbers at the top of every column (except the one that is a black square) and similarly at the left edge of all rows (except the one that is a black square). There are also numbers at the bottom of every black segment (except the one that reaches the bottom) and all rows after black segments except the one that reaches the right edge. In total all numbers from 1 to 51 is written. They are written in reading order from 1 to 51.]

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51

[Below the square there are two rows of clues for each number that belongs to across (rows) and to the right there are one row of clues for each number that belongs to down (columns). Both segments have an underlined and bold title above the clues. ]

'''Across'''

1. Famous Pvt. Wilhelm quote

11. IPv6 address record

15. "CIPHERTEXT" decrypted with Vigenère key "CIPHERTEXT"

16. 8mm diameter battery

17. "Warthog" attack aircraft

18. Every third letter in the word for "inability to visualize"

19. An acrostic hidden on the first page of the dictionary

21. Default paper size in Europe

22. First four unary strings

23. Lysine codon

24. 40 CFR Part 63 subpart concerning asphalt pollution

25. Top bond credit rating

26. Audi coupe

27. A pair of small remote batteries, when inserted

29. Unofficial Howard Dean slogan

32. A 4.0 report card

33. The "Harlem Globetrotters of baseball" (vowels only)

34. 2018 Kiefer song

35. Top Minor League tier

36. Reply elicited by a dentist

38. ANAA's airport

41. Macaulay Culkin's review of aftershave

43. Marketing agency trade grp.

44. Soaring climax of Linda Eder's ''Man of La Mancha''

46. Military flight community org.

47. Iconic line from ''Tarzan''

48. Every other letter of Jimmy Wales's birth state

49. Warthog's postscript after "They call me ''mister'' pig!"

50. Message to Elsa in ''Frozen 2''

51. Lola, when betting it all on Black 20 in ''Run Lola Run''

“Down

1. Game featuring "a reckless disregard for gravity"

2. 101010101010101010101010 [sub]2→16

3. Google phone released July '22

4. It's five times better than that ''other'' steak sauce

5. ToHex(43690)

6. Freddie Mercury lyric from ''Under Pressure''

7. Full-size Audi luxury sedan

8. Fast path through a multiple choice marketing survey

9. 12356631 in base 26

10. Viral Jimmy Barnes chorus

11. Ruby Rhod catchphrase

12. badbeef + 9efcebbb

13. In Wet Let's ''Ur Mum'', what the singer has been practicing

14. Refrain from Nora Reed bot

20. Mario button presses to ascend Minas Tirith's walls

24. Vermont historic route north from Bennington

26. High-budget video game

28. Unorthodox Tic-Tac-Toe win

29. String whose SHA-256 hash ends "...689510285e212385"

30. Arnold's remark to the Predator

31. The vowels in the fire salamander's binomial name

32. Janet Leigh ''Psycho'' line

34. Seven 440Hz pulses

37. Audi luxury sports sedan

38. A half-dozen eggs with reasonably firm yolks

39. 2-2-2-2-2-2 on a multitap phone keypad

40. .- .- .- .- .- .-

42. Rating for China's best tourist attractions

43. Standard drumstick size

45. "The rain/in Spain/falls main-/ly on the plain" rhyme scheme

[thespnreferencedesk]

A Fic Writer's Guide to the 1967 Impala

Part 1: Exterior | Part 2

Click for the full-size, annotated versions of images! Unlabeled screenshots here

The given dimensions for the four-door hardtop Impala are 213.2 inches long (17.6 feet, 5.4 meters), 79.9 inches wide (6.6 feet, 2 meters), and around 55 inches tall (4.5 feet, 1.4 meters). Its wheelbase (the distance between the front and rear axles) is just shy of 10 feet. For comparison, the Impala is about three feet longer than a modern Toyota Corolla with a 1.5 foot longer wheelbase, but the same width and height. Fully loaded, it weighs easily over 2 tons and rides low to the ground. Baby is big.

Baby is a “hardtop” Impala rather than the sedan. This means it does not have a support post between the front and rear windows. The bit of trim/seal between them is part of the rear window and retracts with it when the window is rolled down. The exterior color is Tuxedo Black, and this color is still available today. It has a faint metallic finish to it due to small suspended glass particles that catch the light.

The original plates are Sedgwick County, Kansas front and rear plates with the number KAZ 2Y5 (referencing Kansas and 2005, the year the show started). After 2.19, they switch to Ohio front and rear plates with the number CNK 80Q3. When John first buys the car in 1973 in 4.03, it has a vintage rear Kansas plate with the number RPC 45P4. In 4.13 and 11.08 flashbacks to 1992 and 1997, the front and rear plates are Kansas BQN 9R3. In the djinn dream in 2.20, both plates are Kansas RMD 5H2.

The Impala has a circular driver’s side mirror, but no passenger side mirror. Between 1.01 and 3.09, it also features adjustable spotlights/searchlights on both sides. It also has two-speed chrome windshield wipers, an antennae on the front passenger’s side, and bumper guards on the front and back bumpers.

Up through episode 3.09, the Impala has chrome aftermarket Unity spotlights mounted on both sides. Mounting instructions and a up-close view of these on a fan replica can be seen here. Note that Baby's spotlights have black handles with a thin red stripe. Turn the handle to turn the spotlight's base (up/down), and twist the handle to turn and aim the light (left/right). There is a small switch under the half-sphere part of the handle that locks the light's position.

Baby's wipers have chrome arms and have two speeds, low and high. The doors feature mounted door handles with opening buttons just below them. You push in these buttons to open the door instead of pulling on the handle itself. If locking the door by pressing the door lock button on the window sill, these buttons need to be held down while closing the doors so as not to hit the physical locking mechanism.

Unique to the 1967 are these cage-style corner lamps. They are completely absent on the '66 and different on the '68. The headlights are controlled by a knob on the dash and a high beam button down in the floorboard (pushed with your foot). These come on when the parking lights are turned on. Of the two inner circular lights, the outer one is the low beam and has a low and high filament. The inner circular light is the high beam only and comes on when the floor switch is pressed. The rear lights feature the outer turn signal, center tail lights, and inner brake lights (see below).

To the best of my knowledge, Baby has 15x7 (15" diameter, 7" width) chrome steel wheels in the front and 15x8 in the back. This particular style is currently discontinued but was sold through a variety of brands under different names. The brand Cragar refers to this style as the "Super Spoke."

Outside of the in-universe book series’ fandom, four door Impalas are not sought-after or particularly “cool” classic cars. The Impala was marketed as a mid-luxury “family” car rather than something sporty or muscle-y. Other classic car buffs that Dean comes across might appreciate the way Dean has maintained the Impala for a daily driver, but not compared to a show car. They may also find the Impala underrated, but it is not a typical "dream car" the way a classic Camaro or Chevelle might be.

Without Dean, Baby would have likely ended up used for parts for other more desirable cars. This generation of Impalas is also virtually identical to other Chevrolets like Caprices and Bel Airs. Since Baby is debadged except for the “Chevrolet” on the grill, anyone who recognizes it as an Impala would be a massive nerd.

Just like Dean.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Pontiac Bonneville Custom Convertible, 1959. The second generation Bonneville marked two important milestones for Pontiac. As well as becoming a full line with hardtop sedan and wagons (previously the Bonneville had only been available as a coupe or convertible) it introduced the split grille and the "Wide Track" slogan. The Wide Track wasn't just ad copy, it had a front tread width of 63.7in and rear tread at 64in as opposed to other GM products with a 61in width front and rear. In doing so, Pontiac created what were considered to be the best-cornering full-size cars in the industry. Both features remained central to the Pontiac brand up until it's demise

[vegaduke]

GM offered flat tops from 1959-1960 in all their full size cars; in 1961 Cadillac offered a flat top only in the Sedan DeVille line and it was gone in '62.

[chaos-chloe]

Not Clooless Anymore

Summary: Fairly Clooless part2

TW: Cute moments, flirting, lmk if i missed anything

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the Texas landscape, painting the Texas sky with brilliant shades of orange and purple. I stepped out of my car, feeling the warm evening air kiss my toasty skin. I stood outside the familiar neon lights of Waffle House, a sense of excitement bubbling within my body. The day had been filled with the delightful chaos of the Texas fair—blaring music, the intoxicating aroma, and rides that twisted and turned like my own thoughts and insecurities.

The Texas fair had been a whirlwind of laughter, cotton candy, and the thrilling rush of adrenaline, but now, the promise of crispy waffles, cheesy hash browns, and the company oF the boys made my heart flutter in anticipation.

I checked my phone, squinting in the twilight to see if the others were here. It wasn’t long before I spotted Droid’s unmistakable truck rolling into the parking lot, followed closely by Puffer and Grizzy in their flashy Sedans. And then, like a flash of dark thunder, Pezzy roared into view on his sleek black motorcycle, the engine’s purr blending in with the fading sounds of the fair.

"Hey, ___!" Grizzy shouted as he bounded over from his car, excitement practically radiating from him like the setting sun behind them. He wore his trademark grin, one that always made situations feel a little brighter.

“____! Over here!” Droid called, tossing her a casual wave as he parked his truck. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the boys, my grin widening as they hopped out of their cars, laughter spilling out into the cooling evening air.

“Did anyone win a stuffed animal?” I asked, turning to see Droid, who was carrying a massive teddy bear tucked under his arm. I also noticed a big push toy poking out from the backseat of Grizzy’s car. “Grizzy! Did you get the giant stuffed bear?” I asked teasing with a gentle smile

“Uh, yeah. That’s a trophy for winning at life,” he replied with a playful smirk. “Meet Mr. Snuggly and I have a gift for you in the back of my car.” Droid winked at me

“Nah, I went for the goldfish instead!” he laughed, knowing full well that it was just a way to mess with me. Knowing Grizzy, he’d surely end up with a life-sized inflatable T-Rex instead.

“Didn’t think you’d show up!” Puffer teased as he approached me first, giving me a quick hug before making room for the others.

Droid approached, his casual stride and laid-back charm eliciting a warm sense of familiarity in my bones that felt like home. He ruffled my hair as he passed by, a brotherly gesture that inevitably made me roll my ___ eyes. “Thought I’d find you guys here. Ready to drown ourselves in waffles?” 

“Please, like I could resist waffles after a long day of overpriced snacks and rides! Plus, I have to stay fuelled for our late-night shenanigans after the stunts I pulled tonight!” I Laughed, my spirits higher than ever tonight.

“I know exactly what you mean. I still feel sick from that funnel cake!” Grizzy added dramatically, placing a hand on his stomach as he leaned against the wall of the diner. “But nothing a plate of hash browns can’t fix, right?”

Droid and Puffer exchanged knowing glances, always amused by their friend’s antics. And as Pezzy strolled over, kicking his kickstand down with a flourish, I felt a flutter in my chest that I couldn’t quite explain.

“Did you guys see the fireworks?” Pezzy chimed in, a little more quietly than the others, his gaze quickly flitting back to mine, a fleeting connection that made my stomach flutter, but I brushed it off. 'It’s just post-fair magic,’ I thought, trying not to read too much into it. 

“Yeah, they were incredible! But honestly, now I just want to eat pancakes until I explode,” Puffer quipped, slapping Grizzy on the back as they made their way toward the entrance.

“Hey, ____,” Pezzy said, flashing me a bright smile that sent butterflies dancing through my stomach. “You ready for some real food? I actually have a craving for that Texas cheesesteak omelet, but I can be persuaded for anything covered in syrup.”

“Totally! I’m with you on that one,” Ireplied, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “Waffles topped with ice cream—now that’s a Texas masterpiece.”

As they entered Waffle House, the warm scent enveloped them. The air was permeated with the irresistible smell of butter and syrup, a scent that was so deeply woven into their memories of late-night adventures and shared laughter.The interior was filled with the comforting chatter of other late-night diners and the sizzle of food cooking on the grill. 

They slid into a booth they chose was cozy—wooden and a bit worn-in, the kind of place that felt like home. ___ slid into the middle seat, Droid to her left, and Pezzy to her right, the perfect configuration for subtle glances and stolen moments, the latter of whom took a deep breath as he subtly nudged closer to her. Grizzy and Puffer settled opposite them, already debating their orders in playful retorts.

“Okay, what's everyone ordering?” ___ asked, tone bubbly as she flipped through the laminated menu, pretending not to notice Pezzy’s growing nervousness.

Pezzy took a deep breath as he watched ___, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest. He’d never had the courage to tell her about his crush, but every casual remark felt layered with an unspoken affection that he wanted to express. He fiddled with his menu, glancing back at her, nervously biting his lip. 

“Definitely the hash browns—it’s the best way to start,”Grizzy declared, and the group followed suit, their laughter echoing around the diner as they decided on their meals.

“Why not try the All-Star Special?” Pezzy suggested, leaning a bit closer as he flashed her another dazzling smile. “You can get everything—waffles, eggs, bacon, and still have room for more!”

“Same!” Puffer joined in. “But I’m adding extra bacon. Gotta live large after all those funnel cakes.”

“___! What are you getting?” he blurted out, desperately trying to sound casual.

“I think I might go with the classic waffle, loaded with strawberries,” she grinned, unaware of the fluttering competition swirling around in Pezzy's stomach. 

“Those berries will definitely sweeten up your already sweet personality,” Pezzy said, attempting to keep his tone light but feeling his cheeks slightly heat up. ___ felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. “You have a point! I think I’ll take you up on that,” she replied, her heart racing in ways it hadn’t before.

“Alright, alright,” Droid interjected, breaking Pezzy's moment of hesitance with a calm, brotherly energy. “Let’s order before it gets too crowded in here.” The waitress approached, and as they squabble about orders, Pezzy felt his heart race while stealing glances at ___'s animated expressions.

“Alright, who’s ordering first?” Puffer asked, leaning dramatically over the table like a showman.

As the waiter approached to take their order, ___ felt Pezzy’s slight tension radiating next to her. She could almost feel his thoughts swirling; she glanced at him just as he took a deep breath, his eyes almost playful yet glazed with determination.

“Uh, I’ll also have the All-Star Special, but can you add a side of, um,” he fumbled, his cheeks slightly pinking, “a side of your heart?” 

Puffer almost choked on his drink, and Droid smirked, shaking his head. “Smooth, Pezzy, real smooth.”

___ couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth spreading through her again as she met Pezzy’s gaze. “Clever. But maybe let’s stick to just waffles for now?”

The table erupted with laughter, the sound of friendship filling the air as they made fun of Pezzy’s attempt—a lighthearted bond wrapped in unadulterated joy.

With their orders placed and the waitress retreating, the table erupted into a flurry of conversations, stories, and laughter. Grizzy and Puffer continued their playful banter, while Droid and ___shared fond memories of their previous discord hangouts. As they waited for their food, the chatter flowed as freely as the sweet syrup they’d soon douse their waffles in. Stories of fair rides, a debate on who could eat the most hash browns, and endless laughter echoed within the little booth. ___ caught Droid rolling his eyes, while Grizzy animatedly recreated the fair's biggest ride. 

And then there was Pezzy, who seemed lost in the moment, glancing at ___ with a goofy smile. He was trying so hard not to come off as nervous that it was endearing. 

As their orders arrived, the table transformed into a feast of colors and aromas. The sight of sizzling waffles, golden-brown hash browns, and fluffy omelets was enough to summon quickened appetites.

“Girls first!” Puffer declared, gesturing dramatically towards ___ and Grizzy. “Let’s see how fast you can demolish that plate!”

“Challenge accepted!” ___ grinned back as Pezzy chuckled beside her, the energy of the room buzzing with laughter and chatter.

As they dived into their meals, ___ caught Pezzy stealing glances her way. Every time she met his gaze, they shared unspoken moments of connection—a tentative dance of burgeoning feelings that neither of them dared to voice

“Hey, ____,” Pezzy finally said, his voice breaking through the noise. “You’ve been doing really well in school. I mean, I've always thought you were pretty amazing, like, really driven.”

“Thanks, Pezzy! That means a lot coming from you,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

“Let’s make a pact,” Droid said, forcing the mood to shift. “Next time we hit the fair, we’ll take our own car, and anyone who loses at the games pays for the next Waffle House trip!”

“Deal!” they all cheered, the lighthearted banter continuing late into the evening, making plans for the next fun night together.

“Cheers to fair days and waffle nights!” Droid raised his mug of iced tea, and the others followed suit, all clinking their drinks together.

“Here’s to late night shenanigans!” ____ added with a laugh, glancing over at Pezzy, who looked more relaxed now, joy blooming behind his eyes.

“Next year, we should try the Ferris wheel together. Just us,” he suggested, his voice softening as he glanced away, a hint of shyness creeping into his tone.

“You’re on!” ____ replied, heart racing with the implications of his words. The night felt electric, filled with chances and possibilities, their friendship slowly unfolding into something more beautiful.

As midnight crept closer, they finished their meals with promises of more adventures, laughter still alive in the air like the smell of waffles and syrup. The friendships lingered, intertwined with new beginnings, with warm friendship and the exhilarating thrill of something deeper brewing just beneath the surface.

So as they stepped back out into the starry Texas night, ___ felt grateful for the journey they all shared, knowing the sun might set on one adventure, but it always rose on another—with the possibility of newfound connections, tender moments, and, of course, more late-night Waffle House escapades.

[callmebrycelee]

man crush monday

aaron pierre

full name: aaron stone pierre

date of birth: june 7, 1994

place of birth: west croydon, greater london, england

age: 30

sign: gemini

best known for: his role as dev-em in the science fiction series krypton; mid-sized sedan / brendan in old; caesar in the underground railroad; malcolm x in genius; miles in the morning show; and mufasa in mufasa: the lion king.

height: 6 feet and 3 inches tall

[manualwheel]

Guess The Car Name?

[sims4cars-breezemotors]

“LTD Crown Victoria”

1987 Ford LTD Crown Victoria 🇺🇸

The 1987 Ford LTD Crown Victoria stands as a proud representation of American automotive craftsmanship during a time of transition. As the era of big-bodied sedans waned, this Ford model held its ground with a blend of traditional design and evolving technology. Originating from an era when full-size sedans dominated American roads, the Crown Victoria was a familiar sight, often associated with authority due to its widespread use in law enforcement and government fleets. A notable moment in its history was its role as the last full-size, rear-wheel-drive sedan offered by Ford until the introduction of the 1992 Crown Victoria.

Available exclusively for “No Limits” and “All Inclusive” tiers this January. Since February 1’st. Available for All Inclusive tier only.

Model with HQ interior, open/close doors, trunk and functional light.

Go and join my Patreon!

[unkat]

A little more for the Chilaios ems au. (please see Psiroller's beautiful Stop Smoking, We Love You! which takes place both before and after this)

Takes place after Chilchuck's bad call and talk with Laios and chatting about their backgrounds

Rating: T-M? Contains black humor about dying, alcohol

Chilchuck glances down at his watch, hovering outside his car instead of going into the bar. While he is very aware of his single status, he's not here for himself, but to give Laios the confidence boost he needs to meet someone. This isn't a date, far from it; he is determined to get rid of his coworker by the end of the night.

Another car pulls into the parking lot, a small sedan with a full backseat, a far cry from the thirty-year-old truck he knows Laios drives, followed by a black motorcycle. He looks back down at his phone, wanting to text someone out of boredom, but the only person he wants to complain to is supposed to already be here. Chilchuck wrinkles his brow, patting at his jeans pocket for his pack of cigs and lighter, when he hears footsteps approaching.

"Sorry, hope you weren't waiting for long. I had some trouble with the starter." Laios ruffles up his hair, flattened by the helmet he had been wearing. He still has on a leather jacket and is pulling off his riding gloves and sticking them in the pockets. Chilchuck is stunned for a few moments, a shock of interest crawling from his lizard brain to his hips before he can be indignant. "Seriously?" He scoffs, digging for a smoke, "A motorcycle? When you're a paramedic?"

"I can take a calculated risk," Laios replies, flushed but comfortable, "What about you, Mister nicotine reduces my stress?"

"That's different," Chilchuck waves off the concerns, leaving the pack in his pocket to cross his arms. "You see, I'm going to die nice and slowly, just like everyone else, while you run into a stop sign and get dismembered."

Laios has to put a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from a fit of laughter, "Stop it, that's not funny."

Chilchuck leans in, and Laios stands up more straight, letting his hand fall, and trying to keep the twitching grin from overtaking his attempt at a serious facade. It doesn't stop Chil from shrugging, keeping an even more serious face with ease, "If you do it cleanly, maybe we can get a discount on the coffin, since it only needs to be half the size if we fold you in half."

Laios leans against the car, towering over Chilchuck with a sharp smile, "A cardboard box will be cheaper, and faster than hospice." He shrugs, "Toss it into the woods and say a word or two for me, and you won't have to pay for a plot in a cemetery either."

Chilchuck whistles through his teeth, "I wouldn't need hospice when your sister killed me for feeding you to the pigs."

An amused smirk creeps up Laios lips, "Could be worse."

Any further words are cut off by the raucous laughter of another small group, looking a little older than some of the other patrons. Chilchuck nudges Laios, "Want to go inside?"

"Do we have to?" Laios jokes, at least, Chilchuck assumes he's joking.

"Yes, that's where the single guys are. And the drinks." He slaps Laios on the side of his leg teasingly, "Get going, kid."

Laios swallows and walks towards the bar, running into no resistance. Inside, the music is loud, with a pool table and darts in one of the side rooms, people already playing. Chilchuck takes the lead, confidently stepping through the jumbles of people until he gets to the bar, holding up two fingers. "A Miller and, do you have any stout? One of those."

Drinks in hand, they manage to find a quieter corner of the bar, Laios relaxing when they finally have chairs to drop into. "Well, we're here."

Chilchuck passes him the darker lager, keeping the Miller for himself, "C'mon, it isn't that bad. Don't let a bad night eight years ago keep you from having a good time."

Laios rubs his fingertips against the cold glass, "You have more experience with this than me."

"Me? Oh, no, not at all," Chilchuck takes a sip from his glass, "My ex-wife and I were together years before I was able to hang out in bars, legally at least. Never picked up anyone at a bar."

Laios lifts his own, "I mean, you already proved that you can pick me up. I'm sure you wouldn't have trouble with most of the guys, or girls, here."

His ears are red as he lifts the glass to his mouth, and Chilchuck watches his Adam's Apple bob as he drinks. One of the guys from the pool table wanders over, hovering for a moment before approaching the table. "Hey, are you using that chair?"

Laios blinks, "Oh, no! You can take it."

"Thanks!" The man, pleasant looking, with a wide smile living on his face long enough to leave the start of wrinkles at the corners of his mouth, grabs the back of the chair, "Do either of you play billiards?"

Laios and Chilchuck speak at the same time with different answers, "Oh, not rea-" "From time to time-"

Both go quiet simultaneously. The man nods in acknowledgment, whether he understood their responses or not. "Well, you're welcome to join us- my friend and I are looking for another couple of players.” He addresses Laios directly, making Chilchuck frown, “I could teach you if you wanted?" and then turns to include Chilchuck, "Or, you could, if you wanted to?"

Chilchuck's stomach unclenches and he turns towards Laios. "Well? Want to play some pool?"

He's pleased to see Laios' less than delighted expression, and then is horrified by his delight. Guiltily he shoos Laios away from the table, doing his job as wingman to get his friend to talk to new people, "You could at least help him move the chair. I'll watch your drink."

"Okay." Laios looks like a deer in the headlights as he stands, the other man letting him lift the furniture over towards the other room. Chilchuck drinks half his beer as he waits, shifting in his chair to watch as Laios drops it off by their table, and lingers to talk to both the man who stopped by their table and his other friend. Chilchuck pulls out his phone, scrolling again through his contacts, debating if he wanted to check in with Senshi, deciding against it, and opening up his Candy Crush to try and beat his next level.

“Hey.”

Chilchuck looks up, seeing a very tipsy young man, younger than Laios probably, standing next to the table, “Hey. You doing alright?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He cracks intro a wide smile, leaning against the table. Okay, maybe a little past tipsy, but as long as he isn’t driving it isn’t a problem. 

Chilchuck takes another gulp of his drink, “I’m doing alright, thanks for asking. You look like you’re having a good time, huh?”

“It’s getting better by the second,” The young man winks, as if Chilchuck couldn’t recognize a blatant flirt in front of his face. 

It’s flattering to be approached so quickly when he’s alone, by someone so much younger than himself, and it’s a nice distraction from the discomfort he feels watching Laios talk to the guy across the bar. He doesn’t mind messing around, but he has no interest in taking this kid home. Chilchuck rests his elbow on the table, chin in hand, “Better because of the company, or better because of the drinks?”

“I can get the drinks whenever.” The kid looks him up and down, and Chilchuck almost wants to hide, embarrassed by his casual wardrobe compared to Laios’ motorcycle getup and this stranger’s bright, flamboyant crop top, “But I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you here with a friend?”

“Yes.” Laios stands right behind him, holding two more beers, an annoyed look on his face. He roughly steps around the drunken visitor and drops into the chair next to Chilchuck, drinks in hand.

Chilchuck accepts the drink, mood brighter, “I thought you were going to play pool.”

“I wasn’t really feeling it.” Laios replies, offering no further explanation. The guy standing at the table looks back and forth between them quietly, before flourishing a hand towards himself, “Well, I’m Cecil, if you ever want to talk, or need me to introduce you to someone, I’m around here a lottttt.” He drops back from the table, “It was good to meet you!”

Chilchuck gives him a final wave before he trots away, to flirt with some other lonely soul most likely. Laios waits for him to get out of earshot before turning to Chilchuck, “What did he want?”

“Just being friendly, and drunk.” Chilchuck shrugs as he finishes off his first glass and pulls the new one closer. Laios mirrors him, quickly downing a few gulps like it’s a hot summer day with a cold glass of water, and licking the foam off his upper lip. Chilchuck leans back in his chair, teasing grin on his face, “So, what was his name?”

“…Sean. He was really nice. Asked if he could buy me a drink.”

A wave of irritation washes over him, slow and disappearing as quickly as it began, “Yeah? That is nice. Seemed like a good guy. You let him buy you those? Did you get his number?”

Laios shakes his head fervently, “Oh, no I got these for us. He and his friend, they both gave their numbers, in case we change our mind about the pool.”

“Just the pool?”

Laios twists his glass, “Yeah. Or if we ever wanted to talk.” He takes a drink.

“Hey, that’s basically a date!” Chilchuck slaps the lapel of his jacket with the back of his hand, somehow much more relaxed with a stomach full of beer and his friend clearly not very interested in the man who, in any situation, would be a catch.

Chilchuck manages to get a flash of a smile, Laios’ lips twitching upwards but never showing teeth, disappearing when he tracks down the other guy chatting up someone else at the darts, “What about that guy? Cecil?”

Chilchuck shrugs, “Nothing like that, probably just thought he could get a drink off of the older guy sitting alone at the bar. No number or anything, just messing around.”

Laios’ shoulders relax as he starts his second drink. “Some younger guys like the…well, you’re mature and distinguished, it’s not a surprise if someone wants to talk to you.”

Chilchuck snorts, “Distinguished? The fuck does that mean?”

Struggling for words, Laios makes a pained face. “Handsome? But not in a hot way. Well, yes, hot, but not cute, or conventionally attractive.” He’s losing his grip on what he’s trying to say, and Chilchuck lifts his cup to his face, slowly sipping, watching him fumble, “But a lot of people aren’t conveniently attractive, but you are still good to talk to, and charming—so the jeans and jacket, it is a really good look..?”

Chilchuck lets the silence speak before taking pity on Laios who is starting to look like his brain is going to melt out of his ears. “The jeans and the jacket? Laios, you are wearing a leather jacket, you ride a motorcycle. Half the guys here probably want you to take them home.”

“Well you look like you have a mortgage and, ugh.” Laios bounces his leg and takes a sip, buying himself some time, “You have this look, like you’re confident and caring and reliable. And you are, all of those things.”

Chilchuck finds himself at a loss for words, mouth opening and nothing coming out. He shakes his head. Get a grip. “You know, you didn’t have to butter me up THAT much, a little ‘no, those pants make your ass look great would have worked.”

Laios laughs, hand moves to cover at least some of his flushed face, “It looks better in the yoga pants.”

“Right back at you.” Chilchuck raises his glass. ”But none of these guys have seen me in yoga pants.”

Laios drops the hand covering his face to the table leaning against it, “Oh, I’m special huh? The one guy getting you to do the dippy yoga shit?”

“And don’t you forget it,” Chilchuck says firmly, waggling a finger in his direction.

Laios smiles and takes a swig of his drink in sync with Chilchuck, the sound of clattering billiard balls bouncing around and the murmur of voices the only sound as the music changes from one song to the next, a soft piano and crooning voice taking over.

”Oh shit, I haven't heard this song in forever." Chilchuck elbows Laios and gestures to the ceiling, as if the musicians live there. "Queen, I used to know all the words."

Laios looks at him with a grin, "Yeah? I've never heard it before."

Chilchuck gives him a flat stare. "Good Old Lover Boy? It's by Queen. You know, We will Rock You?"

Laios shakes his head. Chilchuck tries again, "What about We are the Champions? I Like to Ride my Bicycle? Bohemian Rhapsody, please Laios."

Laios smiles more bashfully after each unknown tune. "I didn't think that was a real band, Queen. Sounds like a drag joke."

Chilchuck thumps his drink on the table. "Seriously?!? You're gay, it's Queen. You aren't that young. How do you know Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and not fucking Queen?" 

Laios furrows his brows, "Listen, you can question me for knowing the MTV live album, but Miseducation is iconic." 

Chilchuck scoffs and rolls his eyes, managing to jump in at the chorus, crooning along with the grainy voice of Freddie Mercury, "Ooh love, ooh lover boy…" 

Laios smiles into his drink and he takes a sip, turning to face Chilchuck in his tipsy rendition. Chilchuck accepts his focus, becoming even more animated when he has his full attention.

"What're you doing tonight, hey boy?”

He leans closer to Laios, who leans back in surprise, but follows Chilchuck as he leaves his space, drawn in. Chilchuck tilts his head from side to side with the beat.

“Set my alarm, turn on my charm

That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy”

It goes into a verse and Chilchuck bobs his head to the music. Laios leans close to be heard over the sound. "Where'd you learn this?"

Chilchuck turns to reply, "They're just a great rock band, I used to dance to it with the girls."

The pain of admitting to the past is softened by the drink and pleasure of Laios' company, and neither of them dwell on it. The distance that had been narrowed by dancing and talking continues to shrink. The last lines of the verse crackle over the speakers, "I'd like for you and I to go romancing, say the word, your wish is my command."

Chilchuck mouths the words of the chorus back in Laios' direction who sways back and forth in response to his enthusiasm, a fond smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he is serenaded. Politely, he waits until Chilchuck has lost the lyrics before talking again, "So, what does me being gay have to do with it?"

Chilchuck throws up his free hand in exasperation. "Seriously?!? It's Freddie Mercury, he's a fucking gay icon. My dad wouldn't let me play it in the house because it would make me a fag."

Laios looks concerned. "Uh huh? Did it work?"

Chilchuck wiggles his hand non-committedly, "He was only half right, but it's just because Mercury was gorgeous in all the album art." 

Laios barks a laugh and covers it with his hand. Chilchuck's heart races as the soft bridge plays overhead, and Laios looks at him with the same eager fond intensity that he always does, like nobody else here exists. Chilchuck isn't making a very good wingman tonight. He has a sinking feeling as he realizes he doesn't WANT him to meet anyone... he doesn't want to drive home and sleep alone in his apartment after this.

He wishes there were a few more verses, so Laios would keep his eyes only on him, keep the mood for just a little longer. He's starving for it. Does Laios realize he's staring just as hungrily? Chilchuck wants him to stay here, keep things as they are, where he doesn’t have to think about his own loneliness, where his best friend won’t leave him to grow into a life he deserves. Like the life Jay found when she finally left him.

The tune is replaced by some other mid-two thousands pop tune and the bubble pops. Chilchuck grins and casually gestures over his shoulder. "I'm gonna grab a smoke, maybe something to eat. You want anything?"

[tehlolz]

The first time I ran out of radishes? yeah, i remember. it was like living in a nightmare. you want to know about my first time not having one of a radish nearby? It was a painful experiece. A radish is a type of nut, it meat, It is a type of nut. I'll always remember the first time I had zero left. It was the worst day of my life. I went into my garage to yell at my garage to yell at my radishes, because they hadn't come to life and eaten me yet. But when I saw, I didn have any radishes left, That was when I knew the world was full of chaos and bullshit. I was tucking my son into bed the other night when he said to me: "Mommy, let's see those magnificent radishes we've got" so I carried him into the garage to look at the radishes. But then I saw that time had stolen my radishes away! When i told my son that the radishes were gone, he immediately died. I asked the doctors to X-ray my head to see if my radishes were hiding inside, But when they took the X-ray, all they found inside my skull was a small glass of water. The first time you see your garage has no radishes in it, that's when you know that the devil is the king of your city and lives to make life nasty for humanity. I had to change the neon sign outside my house from saying "I always had radishes" to "I Never had radishes." but then I had to throw the sign in the garbage because it was inaccurate. I have had radishes in the past, I just didnt have any at the moment. I called up my boss and said "A radish is a type of red ball, and I dont have them anymore" and my Boss said "YOU ARE FIRED FROM MY LIFE. DO NOT COME TO WORK ANYMORE AND DO NOT WALK AROUND NEAR MY HOUSE" I called up my boss and said "Heres a riddle for you, Whats the difference between a radish and an angel that kisses my wife?" my boss said "What" and i siad "i dont have any radishes in my garage" and my boss said "Never be a part of my office anymore ever again." A living skeleton drove by my house in a mid sized sedan and begged me to dangle a radish in front of his face. I told him "Sorry bonebag, but i dont have any radishes left" And as punishment, the livign skeleton moved my eyes closer together so that my family wouldnt recognize me. A radish is a blood red eye ball of God. and I do not put it in my salad. It grows in the ground. Its gets made by oysters in the ocean. The night that i learned i had no radishes, Jesus Christ (the son of God) crawled out of my airducts, to show off his new Nike Sneakers. And I was just SO miserable that all I could do was stuff him back into my airducts. When Christ (son of god) came out of my airducts, I I wanted to tell him how cool his shoes were, but I was so sad about having zero radishes that I could only kiss his shoes a couple of times before I stuffed him back into my airducts. A radish is a jewel that tastes like a salad. A radish is a tomato. And when you have none left, you feel horrible. You feel like the devil lives in your laundry room. When you have zero radishes it feels like a spiderweb is your boyfriend (Huh?) Its the worst fucking feeling IN THE WORLD. Its been many years, and new Radishes have crawled into my garage, but the Hurt that comes from having zero that first time stays with you forever. I don't know what the future will bring but no matter what Happens, a radish is a type of scarlet meatball that lives in mud. It tastes like salad, tastes like meatballs, tastes like mud, its the world's only vegetable. And at the end of the day, isn't that all that matters?

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1973 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham

The 1973 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham was a luxury flagship of the Chrysler lineup, known for its imposing size, plush interior, and smooth ride. This full-size sedan featured bold, formal styling with a long hood and a broad front grille. Under the hood, it typically came with a 440 cubic-inch V8 engine, providing ample power despite the car's large size and weight.

The Brougham trim level emphasized luxury, offering premium features such as plush upholstery, woodgrain accents, and advanced options like automatic climate control. The 1973 New Yorker Brougham embodied classic American luxury, combining comfort, style, and power in a grand package.

[beautysurvives]

heeeeere’s an excerpt from the AU fic I’m working on

approx 2k words, destiel, tw homophobia, tw child abuse and implied SA

Men who worked the front desk in motels were not prison guards, though there was some overlap between the two. This one, at least, was amenable to Dean’s charms.

A different guy from the one who’d checked him in, this man, Dean noticed, had no name tag anywhere on him, and didn’t say much in the way of introductions. But when Dean admitted, sheepishly, that he had no money for food, he said, “Come with me,” and beckoned him to a back room.

Dean’s instincts told him not to trust it, but the gnawing pit in his stomach said otherwise. There were mysteries to solve and plans to make urgently — first and foremost, the plan to get himself to South Dakota — but Dean couldn’t think of much on an empty stomach. The sun was going down, and he hadn’t had so much as a drop of water all day. His head was killing him.

It was a break room, with a tiny kitchen area and a mini fridge. The guy pulled out a bottled water and tossed it to Dean, who mumbled his thanks before gulping it down.

As he finished it off, he watched the blue eyed man grab a paper bag off the counter. He pulled out a foil wrapped something that looked suspiciously like a burger and held it out without a word.

“Oh, wow. Really?” Dean had to ask.

“I picked it up earlier,” he explained, in a low, full voice that Dean was beginning to notice didn’t suit him at all. Too heavy. All his words, deliberate, slow and straining. Like they were trying him on, and he was two sizes too small. “But I’m not so hungry anymore. You go ahead.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he began once he was down to his last bite, too starved for too long to care what he looked like, or that the man was staring, “but are you gonna get in trouble for, y’know, deserting your post? I don’t wanna—”

“It’s fine.”

Not very talkative. Not very socially graceful either.

But… cute. Harmless looking enough.

Dean was getting soft — he blamed it on the hunger and the newness and the elation of being free.

He laughed nervously, crumpling the wrapper into a ball. “Uh… I guess — not super busy in here today, huh?” He tossed the ball from one hand to another.

There had been cute guys in Greyrock.

Before Greyrock too.

But prison was prison, and life before that was…

Well.

Nothing gold can stay.

At least, that’s how it used to be. Maybe the world had changed in four months. Maybe only Dean.

But this guy was still staring, not answering, and it made Dean feel… queasy. With his hunger quieted, he could hear both his instinct and his rational mind telling him to get away while he still could.

Still, this gesture, sharing food, inviting him into a private room, seemed more than calculated. It was almost naive. Maybe even kind — and not in the way of most people Dean had encountered on the road.

Where was the ulterior motive? Where was the line between useful and exploited?

“You wouldn’t happen to have a phone I could borrow, would you?”

He didn’t. The home phone in the lobby was broken — hence the lack of business — and apparently he didn’t have a cell.

But he did know of a pay phone, no more than a five minute drive from the motel.

“I can take you there,” he said. “In the morning.” It wasn’t an offer. He wasn’t giving Dean a choice.

That night, Dean had vivid dreams. Even while in lockdown, there had been stimulation enough in his waking hours that he could sleep like the dead. When he did sleep, that is.

But here in this motel in Illinois, his subconscious mind was a shifting mass of apocalyptic nightmares: monsters and demons, civilization collapsing in a thousand different ways over and over, all of it converging on a pair of blue eyes and a faded yellow sedan. Hands holding out a meal.

Was that all it took?

*************************************************

“This is you?” Dean asked incredulously.

The man — Dean still hadn’t asked for his name — couldn’t bring himself to — glanced up as he opened the car door. There was something sarcastic in the look that made Dean laugh with triumph. It was the first glimmer of a personality he’d seen — dude might as well have started doing cartwheels in the parking lot. Dean would’ve been just as amazed.

“Uhh… No,” he answered distractedly. “I’m me. This is just my car.”

Dean wanted to roll his eyes, but stopped himself, and instead gave in to his second most impulsive thought. “You got a kid?”

“No.”

But the blanket with the stars on it was still in the trunk, poking its head out at them. Dean even went to the trouble of looking back, to show that he’d seen it. But the man with the blue eyes wasn’t even paying attention. He was fumbling with the key —

“You sure this thing is yours?”

It rumbled to life. As the man pulled his right hand back from the ignition, Dean noticed, again, the hand resting on the steering wheel. The untanned skin on his left ring finger. He’d first seen it over breakfast — Dean had come straight down after showering, and found an omelet and a bowl of cereal waiting for him — but didn’t want to say anything. Mentioning it was too much like learning the guy’s name. It would have made things personal, which would have made it harder to run.

“I am.”

This time, Dean did roll his eyes. Clearly, the guy didn’t want to talk to him.

So what, Dean wondered again, staring out the window at the other cars (which he was beginning to suspect had no drivers), could he possibly want from me? If it was just about sex — if the guy was even interested in men — then he didn’t have to do all of this to get it. Dean thought about offering, just to make it less awkward, but that would have been too painful.

In prison, there was a script for that sort of thing. In the real world too. Things that couldn’t be said out loud didn’t have to be.

Anyway, most people had always just assumed that Dean wanted it.

A lot of the time, they were right.

Dean almost said something. But then the man added, uncomfortably, as though the extra effort it took was causing him physical pain, “I don’t do a lot of driving myself. I usually am the one getting, uh, driven.”

“Oh,” Dean was taken aback. Not that it was weird — it reminded him of Sam — but it made the whole situation make even less sense. He had so confidently offered before, like it was the most natural, easy thing in the world, and nowhere near an inconvenience.

But now here he was, endearingly frightened at the prospect of movement.

“Well… uh… I like to drive?”

It took only a few moments of silence for the guy to agree. When he did, it was with a single nod. Then he was out the door, walking around to open Dean’s for him. It was almost gentlemanly, and Dean almost said so as they passed each other by.

He seemed comfortable in the passenger seat, giving directions, which automatically made Dean more at ease. Now the silence was companionable, the radio tuned to the classic rock station, playing in the background but not intruding.

“A lot of trust you’re putting in me, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Letting me drive your car. Being so nice to me. Again not complaining… Well, I guess I am. I just don’t get it, man. I mean, I could be anybody.”

“Well, I already know who you are.”

What?

“Oh really?” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice. “And who’s that?”

“Dean Winchester.”

He hoped the guy didn’t notice his gasp. Tried to convince himself that he hadn’t noticed it either. “That supposed to impress me? I gave my name when I–”

“John Winchester’s son.”

*************************************************

There were only two people to call. Richie from

Brooklyn was dead. Lee was probably dead. Deacon, nice as he was, couldn’t be trusted. Lisa didn’t deserve it. And Cassie was better off believing Dean was still in jail.

Sam’s number had been disconnected. So Dean gave the machine another one of blue eyes’ coins.

“Yeah?” Bobby picked up on the second ring.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

God. It was good to hear his voice. “It’s me.”

“Who’s ‘me’?”

Did Dean really sound so different after just four months?

“Dean.”

The old man answered with a single click.

Alright, fair.

Dean glanced over guiltily at the blue eyed man, who apparently didn’t mind wasting his money along with his time. He was resting on the hood of the car, looking like it was yet another thing he was just trying out. Hunched, and as eerily still as he always was.

This time, Bobby was even quicker. Dean could picture him, picking up the landline like he was drawing a pistol. “Who is this?” Like it was a duel.

“Bobby, listen to me–”

“This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya.”

*************************************************

“So our names are in the papers?” Dean more assumed than asked, as he sauntered back to the car, to the man he was suddenly determined to fuck.

He shook his head, looking at the clouds. “Internet. You know what that is don’t you?”

Dean scoffed. “I was locked up for four months, not forty years.” Still don’t know why I’m here, but that’s a story for another time, in another state, with someone who isn’t you.

“You and your family aren’t famous, if that’s what you’re wondering. Only to people who take an interest.”

“Oh. Is that your way of saying you’re interested in me?”

His eyes narrowed just a bit. Maybe he was finally catching up. Maybe the thought of being hit on made him angry. Maybe he’d hit Dean. Then Dean would hit him back. Then he wouldn’t have to ask for the car.

“I suppose. I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t find you interesting.”

Oh. “What is it that you’re looking for, hm?” Dean was leaning on one arm, intentionally invading his space. “You’re not some kind of killer who kills killers, are you?” Dean was. “Like Dexter?”

“No.” He took too long to answer. “And I don’t know who that is.”

“So what? You got a name?”

He didn’t answer. Dean wanted his next question to be, Are you married?

“Do you even really work at that motel?”

He looked at the clouds.

“So what are you really? A badge? CIA, NSA, FBI? Or just some whacked out journalist looking for your big break?” Dean’s last girlfriend had been a journalist. Always digging for the truth. Never happy once she got it. Especially not when it was given freely.

But this guy had barely any curiosity in him. Acted like he already knew everything he needed to know.

“…Are you the reason I’m out?”

“If I was, do you think I’d be allowed to tell you?”

So he was. That changed everything.

“Did they arrest my brother?” Dean asked.

Now, those eyes were locked on him. “Your brother is fine.”

Fine. Not free. “Well people like me don’t just get pulled out at random. I know there’s a catch. What’s the plan, huh? Let me stew, let the not knowing drive me crazy so you can swoop in and—”

“Don’t ask so many questions, Dean. You should enjoy your freedom.”

“While it lasts?”

He went back to his quiet, eerie self.

Dean missed the guy who was scared of driving.

“So you’re married.”

“No,” he answered too quickly.

Dean smirked. “So what’s with this?” He took his hand — the guy let him take his hand — and ran his finger along the mark.

“What are you doing?” Now, he looked terrified. Eyes wide. Apparently in awe at the way Dean played with his fingers, laced them through his own.

“Dean,” he warned. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now.”

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. Just… I need to get to my family. I need to let them know I’m okay.”

*************************************************

Seducing monsters was easy. Dean knew the game by heart.

The first time John ever took him out on a hunt came shortly after that woman broke in and tried to take Sam. Dean would never forget the way he froze, his finger turned to stone over the trigger. The shotgun in his arms felt just like holding Sam when he cried; it made him think of his mother.

John arrived home just in time to see him like that, about to let his youngest son be taken.

He ripped the gun from Dean’s arms and shot the old lady dead.

Which meant no paycheck for John, and that they’d have to run again.

The truck stop hunt was just a month later. Pastor Jim promised to watch Sam for the week.

John made Dean wait outside a bar while he interviewed some locals, and when he came out he found Dean with a tall, beautiful blonde woman, who was handing him a Snickers, telling him her name, saying she’d keep him company until his dad returned.

In the car on the way to the truck stop, John asked him if he knew what it was he’d just spoken to. Asked him if he knew what a faggot was (all Dean knew was it was about the worst thing you could call someone). Told him things like that were the reason his mother couldn’t be with them.

Dean said, “You said monsters took her.”

“They did.”

John asked him if he was a faggot. Told him if he was, it meant he’d become one of the things they hunted. Told him that meant he’d either end up in prison or face down in a ditch. Told him a fag can turn you into one if you ain’t one already, and the only way to inoculate yourself is by being strong.

Most people weren’t, which was why most people needed sheltering. It was why there were gated communities and cul de sacs and houses like the one they used to have, where you waited thirty minutes for the firemen to arrive and save your mother, who by then was already long gone.

John said it was understandable that Dean had slipped and trusted someone he shouldn't have. He was, after all, just a kid. But he couldn’t afford to be. Sammy couldn’t afford it — because without Dean around, who would take care of him when John was gone?

John said, “The thing we’re hunting today likes little boys who look a lot like you.”

John thought seeing firsthand how bad they were would make Dean pick a side.

John hoped Dean would choose humanity.

*************************************************

Castiel couldn’t look at him. Anyone with eyes could see where Dean was trying to lead them.

So Castiel didn’t look.

“I’m not about to… trade this car for your body, Dean.”

“Why not?”