What I love most about this is that absolutely nobody voted for Crowley.
Supernatural cat names
- catstiel (castiel)
- Sam and Dean winchespurr
(team fur will)
- lucipurr (Lucifer)
- rawrphael (Raphael)
- Rowena mclawed (McLeod)
- purrgus mclawed (Fergus McLeod, AKA Crowley)
- meowy catbell (Mary Campbell)
REBLOG IF YOU HAVE OTHER IDEAS
Please enjoy the infectious laughter of the Australian senate struggling to keep its composure while grilling a man about bee semen
Once upon a time in the Enchanted Wood, right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo, a pair of little twins did share a bed; a bed the size of a shoe. And every day and every night they’d do what little twins do. They’d play in the forest, and plant a big seed, they’d bake a big bread, and they’d frolic in glee.
Thenst one day, a giant did step on their father’s big, burly, busty silhouette. And so, the twins were left with just step-mother, and she had plans for them. Plans of other.
For evil step-witch did not want any twins. She sent them away to the University of Michigan.
“Now, this is how you will have a 401k. You will go to college, and find a job one day. It will be very simple, for it was when I was young, and then you’ll own a home with your very own sons.”
“We’re daughters,” said the twins.
“Oh shit, I didn’t notice. What were your names also? I don’t think the authors mentioned them at the top of this tale,” asked the step-mother. Evil, but always offering very constructive criticism.
“My name is Piper,” said the daughter on the right, filled with chutzpah and up for a good fight. She had hair of bright red and a face full of freckles. She sang to the birds. Her sister was named Sheckles.
“Well, Piper and Sheckles, go thee away and pick a major that will help you someday,” the step-witch threw the children out from the roof, and then she did push them off of the roof. The children did fall and landed in Michigan.
So Piper and Sheckles skipped through the grass. They found a lily pad; the home of their first class.
A toad was their teacher. His name was Miss Toad. Long live Miss Toad.
Miss Toad sang a song to all of the class and it went like this, tweedle-dee, tweedle-dass.
Miss Toad’s Song (To The Tune of Despacito).
“Hello children, hello kids.
My name’s Miss Toad, and here’s all my biz.
You made a good choice by coming to college,
It is the ONLY choice from my knowledge.
For with a degree, you’re like a big tree.
The degree is a seed, but the tree could be thee.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” asked the twins.
“Oh, shut up, you twins. You stupid, stupid, twins, and listen to my beautiful song.
For if you don’t listen and don’t graduate,
Your future will be all wrong.
And if you have a degree and some learning from me,
You can own a home in twenty-seven days flat.
And if you study your math, and go to each clath,
You will get all your dreams just like that-”
The song ended abruptly as a hawk came in and ate Miss Toad.
Piper and Sheckles swore to finish their education at the University of Michigan to honour the late Miss Toad. All hail Miss Toad who simply did not live as long as we wanted.
So they took their school seeds and put them in dirt. And for four years the seeds did grow. And they watered the seeds, and rushed a sorority, and the seeds continued to grow.
And then one day after four years of talk, the seeds became six-foot-five beanstalks, and Piper and Sheckles wiggled with glee.
“I wonder, oh, what’s in my beanstalk for me?”
Piper climbed it first, she liked to fight. She climbed up her beanstalk, and climbed it just right. Once at the top, she peeled back the leaves to see what had grown from her college degree.
But nothing at all. It was just dust.
Just dirt, and dust, and betrayal of trust. And a ghost, yest a ghost. The ghost of Miss Toad climbed out of the beanstalk that had just growed.
“Miss Toad, or your ghost, I don’t understand?” said Piper, with a whole lot of nothing in hand.
“Well Piper, this is called a BFA. It’s worth nothing, and you owe me one-hundred-thousand dollars today,” said Miss Toad, as he hit Piper in the shins with one of those riding crop things.
Sheckles called from across the way, “Sister, there’s nothing in my beanstalk for may!”
“Miss Toad made promises of owning a home, but now I just owe one-hundred-thousand dollars, and his ghost is hitting me in the shins with one of those riding crop things.”
So the twins did jump from their beanstalks so high and said, “We’ll figure out how to survive.”
But they were not the first and they’ll not be the last to pay off student debt until they die.
They went to jobs mouse and asked for a job, and the mouse said, “A job, now what is a job? You must have three-to-four years working at this before you can get your first job at this.”
“What?” said the twins.
“Exactly!” he said.
So the twins walked down the road. The found the realestate badger, the badger of realestate, to find our young couple a house. Now they date.
The twins, yes the twins, and a couple as well, said, “How do we purchase a house? What the hell?”
“Well, you must pay in breadcrumbs, of which there are none, as we are in the middle of a recession. When I was a cub in the 1960s, I brought this cottage for four breadcrumbs, and now Zillow says it’s worth 3.46 million breadcrumbs and there isn’t even in-unit laundry. By the way, the federal minimum wage is seven breadcrumbs and twenty-five cents an hour before tax.”
“Oh, whoopsie no, and whoopidey no!” said Piper, the feisty young twin, “Let us go to the only parent we know. See if she can help us win.”
So they went to their wicked step-mother indeed and said, “Dearest step-witch, we are in need. We tried to do things the way you said, and now the ghost of Miss Toad has a price on our head.”
The wicked step-mother looked them up and down.
She said, “This is your fault,” and began to frown, “You were the ones who listened to me, and that is your fault, zipedeedee. But listen to me now, for this is quite right. The vaccine is filled with microchips, and blue lives matter, global warming isn’t real, but if it is, it’s your fault. Good luck having your own sons in this burning rubble of a failed society, you cucks. I’m on bath salts.”
Then the wicked step-mother did jump off the roof, and run to the polls to vote for Jeffery Epstein Dead Sex-Offender for President of the United States of the Enchanted Wood right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo.
And as the world started to burn, Piper asked Sheckles, “What did we learn?”
“Well, my good Piper,” Sheckles did say, “We learned that the world is not okay. So, our step-mom’s on bath salts, and we owe a ghost money. What do we do, my twin and my honey?”
So the twins made passionate sweet, sweet, love on a mushroom outside of a shoe. And that’s where our tale ends, sweet child of mine.
Now tell me please, what do I do?
So I have the headcannon that the next generation of hunters, like Claire's gen, hunt in packs, rather than the solo-or-two-max system other hunters seem to have going on were they team up because they HAPPENED to cross paths.
Like, they start out HAPPENING to meet up, and of course they trade numbers, and then some one created a fucking discord, with channels labels "[inserts small town name], Maine- possible ghoul" and "[insert name] plantation, West Virginia- multiple poltriguists," and its just full of people trading info and planning meet ups to handle cases en mass, because think smarter not harder.
Like, some might be open a few weeks or even months, as it's obvious what the hunt is, it's just a matter of the next person to get to it, or the next time a large enought party can get together to hunt the thing down safely. Other channels could be up for years, with various hunters passing though the area and snooping around, not finding much and moving on, but updating the discord on what's happened in the area since the last hunter passed through, or that its been quite, so that any patters become obvious a LOT sooner than the the previous method of "hunter shows up, investigate and hopefully gets lucky with a pattern."
And there's one labeled "solves cases."
And probably ones for sharing safe havens for vampires and werewolves and the like who want to learn control.
Probably one labels "crash sights" where you go and @ everyone like "I'm I'm [name], Texas and need a good place to crash???" And either someone comes back with a good hotel or just straight up invites them to their house- "but don't knock, the kids are asleep by 8, text me when you get here."
Like the next gen just not isolating themselves, the next generation was forged in the Era of Unending Apocalypses, things may have settled, but they know the importance of organization and communication and numbers, when it comes to the things that go bump in the night.
But mainly I just have this image in my head, where some gruff older hunters, like a surprising large group of three whole hunters, roll up into this small town ready to handle what they're pretty sure is a water wraith in the local lake, only to find, after some snooping, that it's been handled. So they split up, and go their separate ways almost immediately, and one of them ends up towns local grocery store, or maybe it's one of those towns just big enough to have a Wal-mart on the outskirt, this headcanon give wal-mart at 11pm vibes so I'm going with that.
One of them ends up at the local Walmart on the outskirts of this town, about to stock up on road trip supplies before they head out to look for their next hunt.
And they spot this group of like 6-7 young adults, all covers in mud and bruises and three of them soaking wet, and if that hadn't clued the older hunters in, the anti-possession tattoo visibile on the arms of a few of them- a thing I really can't imagine wasn't just a common thing for hunters by the end of the series, honestly- does.
At first the older hunter want to think "wow the next generation is doomed if it takes this many for a simple water wraith," but to their credit, they look like they'd been in one hell of a fight, and nobody looks like they're bleeding out, and none of them look like they're mourning.
In fact, they all look like they're getting ready for a party, as they piles all kinds of things into the cart- and on top of one of the kids sitting in the cart, reading though an obnoxiously old looking book that definitely quilifies as a tome- including several cases of beer, and snacks.
But on top of that, they have like, Caulking and so many towels and is that bucket of paint and brushes and like a thouusand spunges and mops??
Then one of the kids comes meeting her friends in the aisle with a plastic sword from th toy section and says, "Hey Claire! Guess who I am!?" Before swinging the thing wildly and dramatically over-acting a trip-and-fall, crashing into the cart and disturbing the kid who was still reading. "Oh no! The wraith! It got me!"
Presumably-Claire, one of the kids that was soaking wet, and the one pushing the cart, tells her to "shut up, Emma!"
The kid who was reading looks up, and dead-pans "no, that was pretty much what happened." Then, to the one with the sword, "but she shrieked more than screamed,"
"Shut up, Kevin!"
This gets the whole party laughing
Then one of them says, "Come on guys, let's go we need to be out of the airbnb by 12 tomorrow, and the place is still wrecked."
Why didn't they just rent a couple motel rooms???
And one of the boys who is soaking wet says, "Yeah, let's get back, I have work tomorrow evening, and I'm this close to getting fired."
Another of them looks up from his phone and says, "Magda says she's got the new window panes from a guy she helped out a couple years ago, ETA's 3am so that's good."
"Next time let's not rent the airbnb on the lake we think is haunted."
"Next time I'm renting a boat."
Oh, they're insane.
The older generation thinks the younger gen is weird, and way too childish, is what I'm getting at, but this gen might have finally figured it out.
Illegal that we didn't get to see Claire and Rowena as a kickass duo
just realized my favorite sitcom husband is bisexual disaster feminist twink/twunk with a heart of gold and twice the anxiety
Butterflies by everydayistuesday Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3k
Sometimes, Cas gets butterflies. It can’t have anything to do with Dean, though. Can it?
As a person who is always looking for demisexual!dean fics, I feel like I hit the jackpot when I found not only that, but ace!cas as well when I found Butterflies in the tag. With 3k, this fic packs an emotional punch as Cas experiences a sexuality crisis that hit really close to home. Not only does he figure out that he’s ace, but he’s also biromantic. As a fan of bisexual!cas, this felt natural and right from the high school boy's perspective.
Dean is exactly who we hope he is when Cas is finally able to confess, and we get a very sweet happy ending when Dean confesses his own secret too, one that only brings them closer. One thing I can’t forget to mention is how cute both these high schoolers are, Dean a total nerd with his Star Wars shirts, and Cas, the moody goth with his head-to-toe black wardrobe and black eyeliner. They’re adorable together, so you’re not going to want to miss this little read.
he's a pretty princess!