“You have a visitor, Clarence.”

Meg’s smile is lipsticky. All the other nurses are bleached and clean and transparent, but Meg’s demonic rebellion has been reduced to MAC Russian Red. Sometimes it’s Cockney, or Ladybug. Sometimes she leaves big sticky prints on his cheek, like bloody butterflies. He leaves them there. Another nurse comes along and wipes them off hours later, looking a little perturbed. He vaguely wonders why no one gets her to stop.

It’s Hang Up today. Purple and glossy. She smacks her lips as she looks up at Dean, and Dean just rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Nurse,” he drawls, like the whole fancy-dress facade pains him. She sashays out, and Dean shoots him a meaningful look. “She picked up everything she knows about nursing from porn, huh?”

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Okay, Sera. Here’s the problem I have with you - you’ve just leapt from being a closed-minded writer to a closed-minded human being. Way to completely ignore and undermine the fluidity of sexuality. Way to ignore Dean’s casual flirtation with men. Way to ignore the significance of the masculine relationships in his life and the continual failure of his feminine relationships. Way to ignore Dean’s entire CHARACTER as a kid constantly striving to replace his negligent father with strong, fulfilling male figures. More importantly, way to eliminate bisexuality and pansexuality from the fucking spectrum! 

You don’t understand the show you’re running. You don’t understand the characters you’re writing for. And, tossing my shipper’s agenda and slash goggles aside, if you genuinely believe that Dean’s past sexual relationships with women serve to eliminate the possibility of a future romantic relationship with a man, then you don’t understand life. Our understanding of sexuality has evolved in the last couple of decades to accept that ‘liking women’ and ‘liking men’ are not mutually exclusive statements. So thanks, Sera, thanks a lot for reducing something as wonderfully rich and complex as sexuality to naive binaries - it’s comforting to know this show is being run from such an informed and progressive viewpoint.

GIVE, TAKE AND PONCHOS: Castiel has a new trick, one Dean’s never seen, and when he starts using it on the Doctor Dean’s jealousy drives Sam around the bend.

PG-13

Castiel and the Doctor have been gone for three hours by the time they both suddenly appear in the middle of Bobby’s living room, pink-faced and crazy-haired and sending a stack of papers sky high. The sheets flutter through the air like confetti and the Doctor’s still giggling by the time they touch the floor. 

“Look what the Cas dragged in!” Amy catcalls from her place sprawled on the sofa, long limbs everywhere, fanning herself with a tomb on ancient Aztec mythology. It’s a hot summer’s day in South Dakota and she’s wearing as few clothes as are logically possible around a handsy Dean and a husband with a sword. “How were Adam and Eve?” 

The Doctor sashays over to her, hands clasped and eyes bright, “I think you mean Adam and Steve.”

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(via house0fstark)

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(via house0fstark)

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Life ends, yanno? For everyone. Dean and Cas aren’t special for looking Death in the eye (sometimes literally - the guy had awesome taste in fast food). Every single being in creation is born facing death. That’s what we’re all hurtling towards, reading from left to right. John used to say only two things were sure - death and taxes. In the year 2014 governments have collapsed and taxes are a relic, but death still stands, tall and proud and definitive on the horizon. They are going to die. Maybe tomorrow, maybe beneath Lucifer’s heel, maybe from old age fifty years from now, but they are gonna die. Everything does. Even God would be reaped in the end. But the important thing, the one thing to bear in mind, is that the threat of death shouldn’t stop anyone from living. You don’t refuse to play a game because someone’s going to win and you don’t reject a journey because it has a destination. The whole point to life is death, if you think about it, but what comes after doesn’t invalidate what served before. The idea is to live, a glorious, rich, full life, even if you do it all beneath Death’s black shadow. Dean can’t let the knowledge this is all going to be over ruin the now, because death looks awful insignificant in comparison to the way Castiel stares at him, debauched and worshipful and possessed.

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