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peas-will-win · 2 years
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I don’t know what’s going on but it’s a lot
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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HIS SIREN IS A MAN????...
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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At this point I'm convinced Supernatural is the Hotel California of fandoms, like a lot of us THOUGHT we checked out a lonnnngg time ago, but we never really leave.
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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being a supernatural fan is such an experience it feels like getting slammed in the head with a meat tenderizer every goddamned day except you don’t quite know when it’s going to happen or how long it’ll last 
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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deans little "what the heLL" 👀🥰🥺
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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concept: angels but they look like stingray skeletons
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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セラフ
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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MAKE ME CHOOSE SUPERNATURAL EDITION: @kimikomyashiro asked KRISSY CHAMBERS  or CLAIRE NOVAK
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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I love sam and dean as much as the next guy but castiel walked into that barn on september 18 2008 and supernatural immediately became the Cas and friends show to me
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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The End of it All
Fandom: Supernatural (Ghostfacers)
Ship: Ed/Corbett WC: 2K. Rating: T
Corbett's heaven was cosy and quiet. He lived in a cottage in a vast meadow with a dirt path. There were a few gardens that he tended to, animals that he fed. A gentle stream babbled through the grass. He liked to watch the clear water run through the sun soaked grass from his library window as he read the classics.
He was the only one who ever walked the dirt path.
No one ever visited him, and he was alright with that. There was no one he wished to see. Not yet. That's one of the burdens of dying young. He had to wait for his loved ones. So, he did. He waited for years. Decades.
Then, it happened.
He heard small tires on the dirt path. Maggie was the first to arrive. She rode in on a bike with a basket full of lunch for the two of them. "Got time to catch up with an old buddy?" She asked. He couldn't say no, and he never would. He led her to the garden by the library window, and they had ate on the grass. He begged to hear about her life. Maggie sadly passed away in her seventies. Her hair was long and white as snow, but she had stories. Side splitting, tear enducing, gripping stories. He missed her. And she missed him. After he passed away, Ed and Harry continued to hunt in his honor. Alan's heart throbbed at Ed's name. She explained that Harry got married and had children, so he ultimately quit the life. But Ed stayed in. He got really into ghost hunting, setting up teams and organizing efforts to make a difference on the East coast. He inspired five squads by the time Maggie made it upstairs. Maggie joined a squad for a few years, but retired after meeting the love of her life Johnny. Alan wanted to hear all about that.
She left soon after lunch, but came back to his cottage every now and then. He started to keep a bottle of her favorite wine in the kitchen for when she visits him.
Fifteen years later Alan heard a motorcycle rumble through his dirt path. He ran outside and saw Harry. Harry jumped off of the cycle, looking thirty years old and grinning wide, "Fuckin' Alan J. Corbett. I knew your wholesome ass would be up here. A cottage? Really?"
Alan laughed into big bear hug, "I like to keep things simple."
Harry and Alan walked through the meadow for a few hours, checking out the property. Soon enough they began chatting about Harry's life. Harry had five children. Five. Alan stopped and gasped at the news. Harry told him he had twins with a big smile on his face. He named his surprise second baby Corbett, after a good friend that came into his life for a short time but ultimately changed it forever. He died at 82, with nine grandchildren and three great grands at his bedside. He and his wife Caroline made a beautiful family and a home full of love.
He left too, with a promise to be back soon.
He didn't lie.
Five years later, Alan was reading in his library, staring out of the window at his dirt path. A book lay open on his lap, and he dropped the pages when he heard it. That car. That old rusty Buick rumbled down the path and toward his cottage.
Alan took off running.
He sped through his house barefoot, not even pausing to grab shoes before running outside to meet his guest. The car engine cut and the door opened as Alan ran to it. Ed stepped out of the car with a huge smile shining through his beard. Alan could cry. They crashed into a hug. Ed held him close, strong hands on his back and head. They stood there for a few minutes just holding each other without saying a word. Alan cried anyway. Ed felt Alan's back quake with tears and he leaned back from their hug, wiping them from his beautiful face. "Hey, Ghostfacer." Alan started to laugh. "Ed! You came to see me!"
"Of course, I did. Drove straight here. Didn't stop." Ed held Alan's face gently, watching him smile. "I had to tell you something." They stared into each other's eyes in the middle of the dirt path in the meadow. Ed walked forward and kissed him. He kissed the hell out of him. He pushed Alan into the Buick and just went for it. "You were the love of my life." Alan wrapped his arms around Ed's big broad shoulders and kissed him back. They made out on the dirt path, basking in the warmth of their first kiss. They could both finally stand in the arms of the man they loved in a safe world.
Alan stopped kissing Ed so that he could look at him. Wow. He's about forty. And jacked. Ed was covered in muscle, standing tall and bearded in a soft gray Henley. Whoa. He was already hot before, but now? Holy shit. Alan cleared his throat and blushed.
"I dedicated my life to your memory," Ed broke through Alan's lustful reverie, throwing his arms out proudly to confess, "My squads and I... we reunited so many ghosts with their fates, but I never forgot that night at the Morton house. The night I lost you."
"Ed, you didn't have to--" Alan bristled at the memory of his painful death and the torturous echos that followed. He hated the idea of that night haunting the man he loved. Ed was in pain now, soul bruised by the trauma. Alan could feel it.
"I did. Because you saw me. And you loved me. So much so that you died for me. I didn't even know who I was yet. You took one look at me and just signed up..." Ed started to tear up, "Fucking Alan J Corbett. I've never met a man better. In all my years. How could I not build churches in your honor? How could I not dream about finding my way back to you?"
Alan gazed up at Ed, "I'm so happy you found me. You're the only man I ever loved."
Ed placed Alan's hand on his thick chest. "Corbett."
Alan checked him out openly, mouth already watering as he ran his hand up his chest to grip around his shoulder. He looked up into Ed's eyes bashfully. Ed blushed, tugging Alan by the shoulder. "Nice to know where your head's at. Can you at least show me around first, Casanova?"
Ed walked past Alan and toward the cottage. Finding himself uncomfortable being called out, Alan adjusted his posture before following Ed. "So, this is my meadow, there's a few gardens, a stream..." Alan grabbed Ed's hand, steering him away from the garden and into the house, "Nope, not now. And the cottage is vintage. Spacious kitchen, nice living room, a library." They walked through the hallway and past a window, "There's a bird feeder there. Real nice."
Ed pointed to the ledge on the window, "Ooh, a blue Jay."
Alan waved that off and continued along, "Yeah. Mmhm. Let's keep moving."
Ed began to laugh, "You're on a mission, dude."
"Yes, I am. Right through here is the rain shower, washroom. Craft space. Storage closet..." Alan tugged Ed into his bedroom with vigor. "And last but not least, the master suite."
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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and what are your hands used for? creation or destruction?
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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monster of the week | angels
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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supernatural has had such an impact on my mental health <3 is it a good or bad impact? well thats my sexy little secret
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peas-will-win · 3 years
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disney character: mirror mirror on the wall, who is the farest of them all? mirror: look, susan, beauty is a socially constructed concept which can be defined in many ways by different people. moreover, regardless of which definition is used, it cannot be quantified and therefore cannot be accurately compared. 
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