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[personal profile] blue_bells
girl in the snow by lyckaa

by [ profile] lyckaa

Happy holidays, everyone, or if it's still on its way for you, I hope that you have an absolute blast when it comes. As romantic as it looks, if you're in the Northern hemisphere, I don't recommend enjoying the snow a la mode of the above example. And if you're in the South like me, well, bring on the mocktails. ♥

I recently got back into state and we finally had our internet connected at the new apartment (phew!), so I thought I'd kick this off before I disappeared again under the sea of work + tying up writing challenges in the sprint to the end of 2011 ([ profile] bellatemple, this means you).

It's been another amazing year in fandom, I've met so many new people and had such a great time vaulting the hurdles with the lot of you. I've learned a lot about myself, my writing, and I want to give back to you guys for always giving me reasons to smile; especially on Mondays.

I'll be taking prompts until late December for any of the fandoms you can see on my profile page. I write for any/all pairings or gen, as long as I know the people involved (and if not, I'll let you know!), so please have fun; go nuts. Don't feel shy if we've never spoken before, I'd love to meet and write for you, too!

To ensure that I get back to people in a timely fashion, I'm going to respond in either three sentence or 500 word commentfics.

To help me keep on track, please prompt in the following format: Fandom, Pairing (or Gen), Prompt.

Hope this finds everyone well! ♥

Fills to-date:
For [ profile] zekkass: Let's hope it's a good one (without any fear); Gabriel, Jimmy, Claire, Donnie, Robin (PG, [ profile] vessels_anon 'verse)
For [ profile] morganoconner: I'd change the world and the rules (PG-13; Gabriel/Castiel; Human!AU, incest)
For [ profile] chaos_dreaming: My way back to broken (PG-13; Michael/Adam, Lucifer)
For [ profile] chosenfire28: On the third day (PG-13, Dean/Castiel)

Date: 2011-12-01 12:41 pm (UTC)
ext_3665: (Angel)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural, Gabriel + angel's vessels, for some Christmas cheer Gabriel's given a mission to take all the vessels on a caroling trip. (Dean and Sam excluded, but they might get a visit from the carolers. Claire only if her mom gives permission. Make up your own OCs or borrow mine/[ profile] ravenspear's. Please include Jimmy and Donnie. etc. :D?)
From: [identity profile]
I based this on John Lennon's "Happy X-Mas (War Is Over)", of which my favourite cover is this collaboration between Jake Shimabukuro and Yo-Yo Ma. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s said that we see truth through the eyes of children and Jimmy sinks to his knees when he sees that it’s Claire on his doorstep – Claire with her faded blue jeans, thick parka and forgiveness in her eyes.

How did she grow up so fast? She wasn’t this tall the last time he visited… was she?

Claire gives him a small smile and holds his hands before he realises he’s reaching for her.


It’s Christmas Eve. The night is dark and below freezing, it doesn’t deserve to hold his daughter on the wet, broken porch of this place. It isn’t a home. It’s barely liveable and he’s ashamed for her to see it.

“Mom said it was all right. I want you to come with me.”

“To your mother’s?”

She shakes her head, hands squeezing his, and he doesn’t understand why she laughs (but, oh, he’s missed the sound).

But then she sings to him. It feels like hope, like warmth, light and the deep, forgotten spring of relief; like the first time Castiel spoke to him and he realised he was meant for something greater than pushing paper in sales. Before he attached his star to that angel and was raked through the Heavens.

Claire sings and it’s the balm to a broken promise. There is still life worth living after this.

She wipes the tears from his face with her gloves and lets him kiss her cheeks, her hands.

I love you, my beautiful, beautiful girl.

Claire ruffles his hair with an impish smile and takes his hand.

“C’mon, Dad.”


Jimmy baulks when he realises who’s waiting for his daughter by the fence.

It isn’t the face he expects, but he would recognise that amused smirk and the slouch with hands in a too-thin jacket anywhere.

Gabriel tilts his head at Jimmy in greeting, and that dark hair, that body, are all wrong, but the sharp glimmer in his eyes is just the same.

“Jimmy,” the angel greets.

“You’re dead.” Jimmy ignores Claire’s protests when he pushes her behind him.

“I’m on a mission: to bring cheer to those who need it.” He motions to the vessel Jimmy can’t stop studying, as though he knows Jimmy is wondering who he’s conned this time. “Just for tonight.”

“Daddy, stop it.” Claire pushes at Jimmy’s arm, frowning up into his face. “Your friends need us. Gabriel is the Voice. Let him help us.”


It’s with a fond sense of bemusement that Jimmy watches Claire and Gabriel stamp and sing in the snow until Donnie peeks out through his window blinds.

The front door flies open a moment later.

“What the hell, Jimmy, it’s freezing outside!”

Jimmy shakes his head and motions at his company as Donnie storms down the front path, face torn between concern and consternation. They did not just show up at each other’s homes.

“I didn’t, I just – I’m only here because –“

“A very merry Christmas! And a happy new year!” Claire and Gabriel sing and Donnie stiffens in shock when Claire throws her arms around his waist with a laugh of pure joy.

Jimmy and his daughter would need to have some words about personal space.

Robin’s silhouette fills the front door, careful and curious, her short bob of hair spilling over her shoulder. Claire and Gabriel have already spotted her, and motion to her with open arms as they reach the carol’s chorus for a second time.

It’s with a floating sense of surrealism that Jimmy watches Donnie accept the coat his sister offers him as she joins them on the white lawn, boots crunching in the snow.

“Your pitch is terrible,” Robin tells them. Jimmy isn’t sure, but he’s afraid to wonder if that’s a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Gabriel and Claire grin at each other, then at Jimmy.

Jimmy takes a deep breath. They start the song again, and, with him, their pitch is perfect.

/Postlude: They go on to terrorise carol their way through the entire Vessels Anon group until Adam and Nick are singing louder than the rest outside Sam and Dean's motel room where they proceed to shout the house down. And welcome in Christmas morning. The end. :P
ext_3665: (hugs!)
From: [identity profile]
D'awwwww. :3 I don't think I'd sat and made the connection that Donnie and Robin were related, (clearly they must be, but still...) and either way: d'awwwww I adore this. :D

Date: 2011-12-01 01:27 pm (UTC)
ext_120093: (J2 hugs by talulababy)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural, Castiel/Gabriel, human!AU - moment of revelation and first kiss. :D?


*looks shifty*

*runs away*

Oh but also also also! Your prompt-a-thon last year was the first time I met and spoke with you. So HAPPY ANIVERSARY BB! *big smooch*
From: [identity profile]
He can't make it to the top of the hill. He won't finish this marathon.

Castiel heaves in air with his hands on his knees. The other runners part around him without breaking their stride. Nobody can be angry at him for not finishing. He was the one who'd wanted to do this, but he'd missed too much training; it was just too hard.

He's repeating that to himself as he swallows his disappointment, and he's almost caught his breath when he feels the hand on his shoulder.

Gabriel tips his head up with fingers under his chin.

"I can't." Castiel shakes his head.

Gabriel is struggling to catch his own breath, but he smiles at his younger brother, Castiel’s blood drums in his ears and he sighs, sucks in a deep breath and pulls himself up.

They cross the finish line twenty minutes later and Gabriel is laughing when he pulls Castiel into a crushing hug.

"I knew you could do it."

The victory is bittersweet because there'll be no more marathons after this.

Castiel is frustrated by his brother’s commitment to playing matchmaker when all Castiel can think about is the fact said brother is leaving for his new job in two weeks.

It will take Gabriel to the other side of the country. There’s a self-pitying stab of guilt in Castiel’s chest because he knows he shouldn’t be greedy. Gabriel deserves this opportunity and Castiel is almost twenty: he’s too old to still feel the pull of his brother’s gravity when he has a solid clan of friends at his back, he lacks for nothing, he could leave home tomorrow if he wanted to – he’d have the skills and the means, and this… this is such a simple thing, it shouldn’t gut him….

“Trust me,” Gabriel had said. “Dean’s your type. Wait ‘til you meet him.”

Dean Winchester is good looking on a scale that almost defies belief, Gabriel didn’t lie, but – Castiel realises – so is Sam, and instead it’s Gabriel who Castiel keeps looking to; his brother with the laughter in his eyes and the next joke at the corner of his mouth; his brother who he knows and trusts and who waits, who would never push him beyond his comfort zone.

That’s what Castiel believes until he’s staring up at the mistletoe that he swears hadn’t been in the doorway a moment ago. Dean meets his eye, shrugs with an easy smile suggesting ‘what the hell?’ and all Castiel thinks is Gabriel’s watching, Gabriel did this – and Castiel completely overreacts.

He doesn’t remember running, but when he finally catches his breath, he’s somehow made it to his bedroom. The door is locked behind him. His knee and shoulder throb suspiciously and it’s possible he encountered a wall on his climb up the staircase.

“Cas?” Gabriel knocks tentatively, and Castiel stops breathing as his throat closes up.

What the hell was going on?

“Cas, come on, it was just a joke. Open the door.”

He sinks to the floor, his face flushing hot with shame he doesn’t understand, and why the – why was he crying?

“Cas. Open the door.”

He doesn’t and he prays Gabriel can’t hear the sob that follows his failed attempt to climb back to his feet, but even if his brother did, it isn’t enough for him to insist again.

Nobody disturbs Castiel for the rest of the night. He's so embarrassed.

He floats through the next fortnight in a disembodied fog.

He sees his parent’s worried glances and feels Gabriel’s stare linger on his shoulders every time Castiel excuses himself from meals to retreat to the sanctuary of his room. It isn’t the way he wanted to spend their last two weeks together, but he can’t stop thinking about that mistletoe, that it wasn’t Dean he wanted until they were both standing there, and that now when Gabriel looks at him, he isn’t smiling anymore.

Castiel feels sick and guilty, and he knows it must show in his face. He’s so ashamed.

Why couldn’t it have been anyone else?

The knock comes at his door the night before Gabriel leaves.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell his brother to go away again – he isn’t that much of a brat, and the only honest words he can think of when he opens the door to Gabriel standing there are stay; please, please stay.

He won’t do that to Gabriel.
From: [identity profile]
“Mom and Dad went ahead to the store. I said I’d follow with the trailer. Did you want anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

Gabriel glances down the hall towards the staircase, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. Castiel has never known his brother to hesitate and it makes him want to lean out, punch his shoulder (“what’s wrong with you?”, except he knows he’s the issue).

“So, I’m leaving tomorrow.”


“Are you going to see me off at the airport?”

“… Yeah.”

Gabriel sighs, running fingers through his hair, and Castiel has never noticed before how much he loves that motion.

He feels sick with how much he’s going to miss Gabriel. He stands in the narrow gap of the space he’s allowed, leaning his head to the doorframe with the door’s edge to his chest, and he doesn’t even think about the fact Gabriel hasn’t seen the inside of his room in over two weeks. He used to barrel in, unannounced, uninvited, and they’ve turned a new chapter in which Gabriel is respecting his space and privacy.

It doesn’t feel strange, but… different.

“Look, Cas, about Dean –”

“I’m sorry about… that,” Castiel says. “It’s not your fault. He’s just – not the one I want.”


“Yeah.” Castiel looks down, face flushing hot.

And then Gabriel laughs, happy and relieved, but he’s so wrong if he thinks his troubles are finally over.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked someone? You know I would have had your back!”

Castiel rolls his eyes because this, at least, hasn’t changed.

“Shut up, Gabriel. You can’t help with everything.”

“Trust your big brother, I can help with this.”

“You can get lost.” Castiel moves to shut the door, hoping the exasperation stays strong in his tone because inside it feels instead like he’s splintering when his brother smiles at him like that.

Gabriel is still grinning when he catches the door, holding it open.

“Come on. Who is it?”

“You’re being an ass.”

“Tell me.”


“Tell me.” Gabriel’s hand closes over his on the doorframe.

Castiel snaps.

He throws the door open and shoves his brother hard in the chest. Gabriel doesn’t back up when Castiel pushes into his space, looking down his nose with that same smirk that’s taunted Castiel across the breakfast table since he was knee high and Gabriel stole his fruit loops; are you gonna hit me? I dare you. I dare you.

And he knows he doesn’t imagine the way Gabriel’s eyes go dark, the glance to Castiel’s mouth that lingers that beat too long and intent, and he’s seen that look before; all the times Gabriel wrapped his arms around Kali when they were together. The laugh she muffled into their kiss still rings in Castiel’s ears, but did Gabriel just – did he really --?

Gabriel’s look is hungry, but the dare is still there and it has to be a joke; Gabriel doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look away when Castiel fists his jacket and pulls him down, weakly, but Gabriel leans the rest of the way and presses their mouths together, an easy slide and crush that makes Castiel whimper. Hands come around his back and his head thunks against the wall when Gabriel walks him back, every step smothering the disbelieving litany that this isn’t real, this can’t be real, this – he – Gabriel….

He tastes like caramel, but he smells sharp like snow, and Castiel doesn’t think anyone else will ever know how to hold him like this.

“You should have told me,” Gabriel whispers, and Castiel looks up from the wet curve of his mouth when hands stroke the tremors from his arms and shoulders.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Castiel says. It still stings like guilty to say it aloud.

Gabriel leans their foreheads together and Castiel shuts his eyes, willing himself to commit to memory the way it feels when Gabriel’s hair brushes his skin, when Gabriel’s words brush his mouth and he gasps, tilting up. Gabriel catches his mouth, it’s chaste, but he’s breathing hard when he lets Castiel go again, hands stroking from his nape to his jaw.

“Nobody loves you like I love you,” Gabriel says, a growl at the corner of his mouth, and a thrill of heat goes through Castiel because he’s the one who made Gabriel sound like that, breaths ragged, and fingers gripping tight to Castiel’s shoulders.

Castiel thinks his brother is right.

“Then love me.”

Again, I love you (JSYK). ♥

Date: 2011-12-01 04:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Okay, I'm out of class and, as promised, I've been stewing on this a bit. Since we both like Disney AUs...

Supernatural, Adam/Michael, Tangled, the treasure hunter/thief and the kidnapped prince with missing wings. :3

Re: Again, I love you (JSYK). ♥

Date: 2011-12-01 04:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*magic, not missing. I'm sorry, where has my brain gone? Oh yes, school has sapped the last vestiges of my intelligence, lol.
From: [identity profile]
Disney AUs. Oh, I *do*. /gathers

I love you and your brain and I love this prompt. Do you have a preference on who plays each role? I feel, with Tangled, it could be interchangeable.

Date: 2011-12-01 11:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, Castiel comes back
From: [identity profile]
An AU coda to 7x10 and contains spoilers for that episode. Merry Christmas and all the best for the new year, my beautiful girl. ♥


Dean’s been sitting by Bobby’s hospital bedside for three days.

Every time Sam’s looked at him with that broken hope, Dean felt his own grow bleaker. He doesn’t have the stomach to see his brother’s watery smile, instead glowering from Bobby’s unmoving hands and the damned peaceful expression in his coma like he was ready, to the monitor beeping on the wall.

It’s an offensively sunny afternoon. The breeze is sharp enough to make him tuck his jacket closer around his shoulders, but, from his lean against the window frame, Dean thinks Bobby would appreciate the fresh air.

“Third day running and all reports are negative for recon on Doctor Sexy.”

Dean watches a gaggle of nurses wander through the courtyard below, laughing, with their lunches in hand. He’s amused at the idea that this was the only way he’d ever get Bobby to sit through such a commentary. He likes to think Bobby could secretly enjoy it. He’d give the old man that simple joy.

“It’s all sneakers, tennis shoes, close shaves and ponytails.” Dean makes a face at the unkempt intern number four that dashes through the courtyard next, glancing at his pager. “Don’t they know they’ve got an audience to entertain?”

He glances back at Bobby, at the bandages tightly wrapped around his head.

It still makes his stomach flip.

Dean checks his phone, but there are no new messages, no missed calls. He sighs and turns back to that window. At least Sam didn’t seem to need his help choosing the right pie on his grocery run.

“You gotta snap out of it, Bobby. Please. The sooner the better; if I have to smoke one of the nurses because they got taken over, it’ll break my heart if it’s the hot one.”


Dean stops, light and sound in the room draining away, his entire awareness narrows in the space of the sudden clench of his heart, as though squeezed within a cold, iron fist. The hot sting behind his eyes blurs the courtyard below and the metal window frame digs in under his grip.

He hadn’t expected any response, and that voice… it was the last he’d expected. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself against the ache knotting tight between his lungs, because he won’t be bowed by the sadism of his own imagination playing that voice that he knew he’d never hear again –

“Dean.” The voice sighs this time, rough and weary, and the guilt it churns in Dean’s stomach is too powerful to resist.

He doesn’t expect to see anything when he turns, but the hope (the longing) against every rational fibre is enough to close his throat; they’ve had so many chances and wasted every one. The universe has proven it’s patient, but not forgiving of them.

When he turns and sees Castiel at Bobby’s bedside, the relief is almost strong enough to crumble him. A single glance and another blow of guilt takes the wind from him, understanding the Leviathans had him all this time. They had him and Cas fought his way back to his friends, one more time, evidenced by the ugly, black stain down that borrowed suit, and he sways with the effort of standing by the bed.

“Cas?” Dean finally croaks, barely finding the air.

Castiel looks up from Bobby’s sleeping face, a palm laid over the bandages over his forehead like a blessing. Sweat beads down his temples. Dean doesn’t think his eyes have ever looked so blue.

But then those eyes close, Castiel rocks on his feet, and Dean curses, leaping around the bed just in time to catch him as he knees give out. A long breath leaves Castiel’s dry lips as Dean sinks to the ground with his arms locked tightly around the angel.

“Cas?” Dean begs, squeezing the angel’s shoulder. He pushes the matted hair from his face, God, his skin was so clammy, and he tries not to think about how pale Castiel is because he had finally come back to them. “Talk to me, man. Cas, talk to me.

Castiel opens his eyes and it breaks Dean’s heart when he looks instead at the overhead fluorescent lights, blinking and unfocused.

“He’ll be fine now. He’ll be fine,” Castiel murmurs, head lolling against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s blood runs cold and he looks up to Bobby’s bed.
From: [identity profile]
“What did you do? Cas, what did you do?” He waits all of a beat for a response that doesn’t come and shakes the angel gently. Castiel is as prone as a doll in his arms. God, no. No, no, nononono -- “Stay with me. Cas? Cas, please, stay with me, stay with me….”

His heart thunders in his chest like a fist driving through fresh scar tissue, and this wound is still too raw, he’s lost so many of them, but he couldn’t lose Cas again. Not again and not like this.

Castiel’s forehead is flush with sweat against Dean’s cheek and his hair feels moist when Dean sinks his fingers in. His eyes burn with the force of the sob he can’t swallow, clutching the angel’s prone form closer.

Above them, Bobby’s heart monitor beeps on, steady and calm.

A twitch shivers through Castiel’s shoulders. Dean feels the grunt of irritation puff against his neck.

“Stop… shaking me… or I’ll ask Hell for a refund.”

Dean stiffens. He pulls back to look into the angel’s face and, though Castiel’s eyes are still closed, Dean sees his throat work to swallow. Dean looks about wildly, finally straining to Bobby’s side tray, and Castiel’s breath hitches when Dean tips his head up to drink the water from the plastic cup, just a few sips, before his lips release the rim, panting, and Dean sets the cup aside. He strokes Castiel’s arm, soaking in the relief of his soft, ragged breaths.

“You stupid son of a bitch.” Dean’s mouth twitches in a smile.

“Dick.” Castiel’s voice cracks and Dean feels like his heart will burst when those blue eyes finally open again and Castiel looks into his face with a weak, amused smile.

Dean laughs, cheeks hurting with the force of his grin, and he kisses that beautiful smile before he can stop himself.

“I got you. Don’t die on me,” Dean whispers, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s and listens to the angel’s laboured breaths.

Tangled on the floor of Bobby’s hospital room, he squeezes his angel one more time – please, he thinks, finally, just keep breathing and I’ll never make you stand alone again – and Castiel swallows; Dean hears the effort it takes.

“Okay,” Castiel says. “Okay.”

Date: 2011-12-02 02:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm torn (though that could be thanks to my public transit frazzled state, who knows). So either Supernatural, Midam, crazy 'cause I like them angsty? OR Marvel, Tony and Loki, 'magic' versus science.

Also, stealing this. ALL OF THIS! STEAL ALL THE MEMES!

From: [identity profile]
I couldn't resist jumping ahead in the order. I hope it's close to what you were looking for. ♥


Adam is will and rebellion. He is the tool, he is the cellmate, the vessel and the scapegoat; he is Michael's last resort.

Even though Adam is finally aboveground once more, a piece of him clung on with panic to the hell that had become his only reality, where he redefined himself to survive - to remain aware and sane.

"I have to remake you," Michael had told Adam when he begged the angel to stop, soul pushing at him weakly. "If he finds us, you won't survive."

Michael taught Adam how to love the blade and the inferno of an angel's grace until screams became silence and he learned not to shrink away; until up was down, agony was solace, and Adam looked at him with such dark, familiar worship, Michael knew he would never be the same again.

But when Adam lingered without being called and reached for the blades of Michael's wings, unprompted, the angel knew he'd created something unexpected.

This is the thing he was ordered to destroy, this is what he was destined to throw into the bowels of the deepest prisons to never see the sun again.

Lucifer did find them again, but he didn't draw his sword; he laughed.

"You have a short memory, brother," Lucifer says, his cold moulding through Michael's grace, and it's the same rough demand when Adam wrapped Michael's fire around himself to leech the slightest warmth. "You create us, then destroy us. Is this the only way you know how to exist? You never remember we loved you first."

But then salvation came for the pieces it could claim of Adam. Adam held on so tight to the only home he remembered that he ripped a seam in the fabric between dimensions.

Michael knows that Adam is sitting in the window of that hospital room, but Adam doesn't feel the rays on his face because no sunshine will ever warm him again when his soul is reaching back to Michael's glory.

"You have to stop," Michael tells him, and Adam holds him in his mind's eye with that soft, doleful smile. "You have to eat. You have to drink and walk and get out of that bed. He gave you another chance. You have to live now."

Adam sighs in bliss when Michael brushes the hair back from his face, but nobody else will see this. All they'll see is a handsome young man thinning by the day as he sits in the window of that ward, and they'll wonder why he gazes out for so long, seeming happy, with his unseeing eyes.

"I am, because you're with me," Adam would say while reaching for Michael's knives and fire, though Michael swore the human would never bear them again. "Stay with me. I can't forget."

Adam was the tool, he was the cellmate, the vessel and the scapegoat; he is Michael's absolution.

"You will," Michael promises and breathes the spell into Adam's mouth.
From: [identity profile]
Oh, this is absolutely heartbreaking, but so beautiful, at the same time. I love Lucifer's remark about Michael first creating, then destroying, and how Michael actually realized this negative aspect of himself enough to try and fix Adam. Utter perfection. ♥
From: [identity profile]

Your writing is just beautiful. Perfectly and heartbreakingly beautiful. Just... yes. Thank you for this ♥

Date: 2011-12-02 02:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Man, I wish I could remember when I met you, because I really have come to love you as a good friend. I have a feeling that it was through a meme like this somewhere, though. :)

Supernatural, Adam + Dean + Sam, their first Christmas together. (Can be Winmillcest filthy porn too, but either way is fine with me. ♥)

Date: 2011-12-05 01:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural - Lucifer/Michael/Chuck - the two archangels both want to have Chuck, in the end they need to learn to share

(yes I need more of them in my life :D )

Date: 2011-12-06 02:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural, MAL, In Pieces by Linkin Park specifically the lines There's truth in your lies/doubt in your faith/all you build, you lay to waste/there's truth in your lies/doubt in your faith/all i've got's what you didn't take

Date: 2011-12-19 10:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I love Supernatural, you know I do. And I love Adam. So. I feel you need a change.

You know the movie. You know, with them five we-otches. Starts with a C. Crossover. I only request to see Tyler and Adam share a geek out and past that, the floor is yours.

Date: 2011-12-19 11:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
... The sound I made, it was not human.

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] - Date: 2011-12-19 02:26 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2011-12-27 02:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Supernatural, Raphael/Balthazar and etc. (LOL), every awkward office Christmas party ever au


Date: 2011-12-27 02:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Be careful with that 'and etc.', anything could get plugged in there. ;D

Where have you been my whole fandom life?

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] - Date: 2011-12-27 02:55 pm (UTC) - Expand


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