unleash hell for just $1.50
This professor could not find a projector and drew the map of the world himself.
he is too powerful
he must be contained before explosions
"I was about to ask you the same thing actually. Why would you be stalking around these parts at night?" he replied with a hint of suspicion.
She didn’t look like the usual street scum one finds around drapers ward, or what was left of it at least. She had no gang tattoos or markers and was strangely well dressed. He had a bit of suspicion about her, but he would have to wait this one out. He tensed slightly, ready for action but not decisively so. Usually, strangers were no issue but at this time and in this place he couldn’t be too certain.
She blinked, gulping a bit nervously. Well….he was intimidating, “Cinna—my name is Cinna. I was…uh…” She looked around—where was she again. Oh crap, she had no idea, where was this? A whaler town in….England?
"I’m…actually completely lost right now. I forgot why I was here and now I’m just sort of wandering. I think I had to pick up something." Jesus she really was out of it, how hungover was she?
"You—you look really familiar, sir. We haven’t met before have we?"
lifehack: get a pet parrot, teach it to say this and only this
When Dean Winchester finally dies (for good, this time), Death takes a holiday.
He spends a week going to every fair and carnival in the continental US.
He eats every deep fried concoction possible.
When his holiday comes to an end, he goes to Heaven and knocks on the pearly gates with the head of his cane. He asks to speak with Dean Winchester.
Dean is surprised to find Death there when the angels bring him forward. Death swore that their last meeting, when Death personally escorted Dean’s soul to Heaven, would be the final time they ever saw one another.
“I found it,” Death tells him. “The perfect pie. It was in Muncie, Indiana. Apple, with a flaky, golden crust. The ratio of cinnamon to sugar and its balance with the tart Granny Smith…. it was just perfect. Divine, even.”
Dean stares at Death, unsure of why he is telling him this, but then he looks down. In Death’s hand is a wrinkled, white paper bag. Inside the bag is a slice of the perfect pie.
Dean takes the bag, mystified.
“Thanks for the pickle chips that time,” Death says, then disappears into the void.
did you just give me Death/Dean bromance feels
#And Dean turns back and walks back into the gates#He treks up an inclined road until it flattens and curves around#When he reaches his heaven Dean raises a free hand above his head and yells #’SAM#CAS #LOOKIT! PIE!’ (x)