PRIVATE INDIE CANON-DIVERGENT JOHN & DEAN WINCHESTER OF THE CW'S SUPERNATURAL BASED IN PRE & EARLY SEASONS.
guide // memes // meta // bug

blake kathryn

Janaina Medeiros

Origami Around
Peter Solarz
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
almost home
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titsay

izzy's playlists!
Mike Driver

Andulka

tannertan36
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@m0tel
PRIVATE INDIE CANON-DIVERGENT JOHN & DEAN WINCHESTER OF THE CW'S SUPERNATURAL BASED IN PRE & EARLY SEASONS.
guide // memes // meta // bug
i have so many stuff and things to handle today but i will try to hit everything in my activity tab .. soon (: !
DARK ANGEL 1.17 Pollo Loco
ohm fucking god today has been so crazy idek where 2 start
so i wont </3 faked ya out lmao
but it ended with my car dying in the middle of blind curve on the highway at sunset and the tow guy wasnt allowed to drive us home (dumb policy but he was so sweet) so i asked the tiny BABY state trooper (max 22 years old) (did not know they came in models other than bald and attitude) if she could give us a ride and she lit up at the chance. like "yes i can do that!!! let me move the stuff in the back"
and also she drove so crazy my bf had to speak up but that was fine
and ykw roo on account of everything else that happened i hit 200% of my step goal for the day without even going on a run
☆☆☆☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity! ☆☆☆☆
throwin a whole galaxy right at ur forehead diva <33
𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋.
this is a private & selective 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 blog , from the all souls novels & tv series a discovery of witches. this is an extremely book based portrayal , slightly canon skeptical. studying themes such as: witchcraft , holding the universe in the palm of your hand , destiny , family secrets , the savior , girlhood to godhood , curiosity killed the cat , going against the tide , magic , motherhood , & soulmates.
created by darian ( 29 , she/her )
And then you had that dream again.
omg that’s so creepy I can’t believe you’d say something like that *ears perking up like a dog* you’re such a perv
cooking on ways to ignite my creep freak dean agenda and i'm stuck on that fan art of dean carting sam's dead body around with him just in complete denial.
Actually you SHOULD make problematic content. You SHOULD explore dark or taboo topics. You SHOULD have a space where you can cope with your traumas or explore sensitive topics in a way that doesn't hurt anyone.
Also you should make problematic content for funsies. You don't need to have had trauma or need to be coping in order to explore dark creativity. You can just be a human who wants to explore dark and taboo topics because you want to. That's completely normal, btw.
Every single person on this planet thinks about dark and taboo things. It's literally the most normal thing in the world.
Go draw the horror porn and be free.
we should all be more like david cronenberg and write fucked up stuff. For Funsies
Dean Winchester SUPERNATURAL — 1.07 "Hook Man"
The angel's eyes narrowed as Dean's muscles locked up, staring at the car above him like it was a pair of monstrous jaws poised to close around him. He looked from Dean to the undercarriage of the car above their heads, then back to Dean. "... Is this upsetting?" To his credit, there was something adjacent to concern in his graveled voice. "Do you, ah. Want to move before I put it back?"
Look at that, the angel was getting a TINY bit better about these things. There was a time when Castiel would have just let the entire car drop and thought nothing of it. Now that he knew better, (you don't do things like that to Baby, because she's Dean's) the car was set back down onto its front wheels with care. "Bobby said he's found signs of demonic omens. He's inside."
"Oh. Yeah." Good thinking. "Thanks."
He orchestrates an awkward scramble to safety, some half-roll situation over the ground at Castiel's feet. His hands leave sweaty prints on the concrete, tools discarded in a halo around the box. Nothing here he can't finish off by tomorrow, casework depending.
The mess inside isn't too dissimilar, tools swapped for books and open laptops. Sam brews more coffee while Bobby clicks away behind the desk. Dean wipes his hands down his t-shirt, juts his chin. "What are we working with?"
Mox squints at John. Squints harder. Pac snorts. He's staying the hell out of this, wiping his hands off after the dig like it's somehow going to kill him to have it cling to him from the sweat coating his skin.
"Palm's full of nerves," Mox says, short. "Palm takes forever to heal. Palm's the worst place to cut. Does it have to be the palm?" He's holding his ground on this one, though he offers his forearm with a raise of the eyebrows that suggests he'd prefer the cut be made elsewhere...but he'll tolerate what has to happen for the sake of spiritual compliance.
If he hadn't already seen what he has with John, he'd say this was complete bullshit.
Unfortunately, he's a believer, these days...
"Sorry, champ." Predictably, more apathy than apology. "I didn't put the lines there." Nor did he write the blood magic, or qualify the seventy-thirty shot Mox's spill has of actually opening the crate, but it's not his own risk to take.
That's sort of the point. Half this shit is guess-work, and the other half is hope. But Mox and company don't need to know that. They just need to make it happen.
He cups under Mox's forearm and presses the blade to his lifeline, then pauses. "Hey, if you're nervous, I'm sure meathead can hold your other hand."
Does Pac want to be involved now?
"Or are you done being a pussy?"
OH, THE SADNESS! Olpi shrinks back to his usual size upon being denied the wonder of seeing DJ take a shower. However, the second option sounds great as well (everything involving doing it with DJ is great, let's be real; Olpi just likes to be part of whatever he does, be it eating, sleeping, or plotting a prank), and so he circles the Impala a third time in excitement. "The arsenal, yes!"
And he's off, rolling through the garage, down the stairs, and through the hallway to the arsenal. By the time DJ catches up, two tentacles are already handling knives, one is inspecting a loaded gun, and the fourth is rifling through some boxes stacked high on a big metal shelf in the back of the room, pulling out various objects. Most of them don't look like weapons. Before DJ can come any closer, the gun goes off and shoots a bullet right through Olpi, pinging off the stone floor. He makes a sound like a steam locomotive and drops everything he's carrying, rolling behind DJ for safety.
"Well." Braced in the doorway, eyes on the ceiling, DJ swallows the spit he could've choked on, and counts each and every lucky star he's got that Olpi's a terrible fucking shot. "What'd we learn?"
Give him points for acting the absolute picture of patience. He makes a mental note to put muzzle discipline back on the human education table, and reminds himself this is meant to be the little guy's reward. Admonishing is for the geezers upstairs.
"One tentacle at a time, dude. Matter fact, no tentacles on anything metal without asking me first. Can you handle that? Til we go outside?"
put all my drafts into my queue to play shuffle + write the top and we'll see how that goes .. after dinner xoxo
the rouge on her cheeks is a combination of cosmetics and the heat. that’s all. her eyes drop unwittingly to his mouth, which is soft compared to the rest of his chiseled features. ugh. how obnoxious. she looks away quickly, snatching her hat back into place even though he’s already let go.
a sniveling woman is reciting an eulogy by the gaping grave; a girlfriend or a sister. monroe seizes her opportunity by conjuring tears. nothing dramatic, just a glisten and a few sniffles for authenticity.
she peeks back at dean, tracking the bead of his sweat. “you should chill with your face,” she blurts. whatever that means.
"that your professional opinion?" his brows pinch on the line between offended and bemused, playing dumb on purpose. it's neither the time nor place for ball-busting, but boredom irritation overpowers all.
(it's really not that bad. he catches something about the guy's passion for model trains, and finds that kind of neat. dorky, but neat. he hopes those are still on display at the visit later. for now, messing with her takes precedence.)
in unison, every back of head ahead of them slumps for prayer, and he elbows her to follow suit. "it's ninety friggin' degrees, roe. don't start."
[ TXT: dean ] : violent AND clingy. sam rly wasn't exaggerating
[ TXT: dean ] : he says hi btw. or he would if he wasn't busy towel-drying his hair right now. domestic as hell honestly 🖤
[ TXT: dean ] : who is 'autocrocet'
[ SKANK ] ur mom [ SKANK ] tell him when hes done huffing hair glue to call me back [ SKANK ] i need to know what he wants for dinner [ SKANK ] 🫵 u can starve