#(sam.)

[baffledbirdbandit]

Three year old brownie behind @sam-yow 's shelf....

[soberfucker]

sam touching their guy friend’s receding hairline and saying “please stop…. for me…”

[hungrydogs-if]

*Someone tries to heavily flirt with mc who is ace/demi.

Mc turns their face towards ro and whispers

"fuckin help me!"

dane panics and either barks at the person or punches them in the face. what? you were uncomfortable, it was the quickest way to make them leave you alone, right?

mona grabs them by the neck with a menacing little smile and a "fuck off", will even go as far as to escort them away and toss them into the nearest idling car.

sam would make up a very frantic excuse and pull mc away, only to reveal that they were acting. will commit arson for better believability if necessary.

angel would initiate parent mode. does your mom know you're harassing people? where are your manners, who raised you? bam, restraining order threat.

thirteen has already pulled out their gun and pointing it in their face. people are screaming and fleeing. the weirdo is gone, leaving only one. two thumbs up.

[zellvion]

What do you mean it’s compelling

[shiftythrifting]

found next to each other in CT. i guess sam is no longer the swag man.

[self-1ess]

me at L 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀

[fallenangelwings]

Faith | @bloodsalted

Orders droned in the angel's mind like the steady fall of rain. Do not interfere. Do not reveal yourself. Do not compromise their path. Do not interfere. Do not reveal yourself. Do not compromise their path. For a creature of infinite age and patience, it should have been easy. Dull, but easy. Castiel only had to watch the Winchesters, Dean in particular, and make certain they survived. That was his task, when others were not required of him. The Seraph was not their constant shadow.

A fact made evident when corvid wings carried him to a hospital.

Unseen to the brothers, Castiel watched the broken exchange. Dean was dying. He could hear the weak, irregular pulse of his heart, and his steps toward the gurney had been automatic. Two fingers reached out to press over his chest when the voice of absolute authority seared into the Seraph's mind. MICHAEL.

No. He will not accept a miracle. He will ask questions. He isn't ready.

Castiel's hand hesitated over Dean's chest as the man attempted to joke with Sam about his own demise, and he could sense his eldest brother's irritation at the show of reluctance.

If I don't heal him, he will die. A resurrection would raise more questions than a mended heart.

There was a pause, and for Michael, that was rare. The Archangel did not tolerate being questioned.

My order stands. You will find another way.

The angel's lips pressed into a thin line, and his hand withdrew. As if to mock his struggle, Dean's heart took another miniscule turn toward ruin. Sam glanced over his shoulder at the sudden scent of rain, but there was nothing in the room but monitors, a sunny window, and his dying brother.

It took most of the night scouring the country, but Castiel found a means that would suffice. All it took was a half crumpled news article in a trash bin beside the coffee machine at the hospital, sporting a story about the faith healer Roy La Grange.