He gave the car to Bobby???? I'm offended by that. He's not honorary enough. Sam should get the car, like last time.

He gave the car to Bobby???? I'm offended by that. He's not honorary enough. Sam should get the car, like last time.

To be fair, at the time he thought Sam would absolutely say yes. And I don't want Lucifer driving the Metallicar. He might get the meatsuit but not the ride.

This bit:

-ONE WINCHESTER { } ~Hand!~ENOUGH. WHEN IT’S OVER

made me think he thought Sam would live.

Or quite possibly I'm in denial. But Lucy should NOT get the baby.

You can ride my brother, but if you come near my car I will END THE WORLD.

You can ride my brother, but if you come near my car I will END THE WORLD.

I want to hear Dean say this. Totes.

You can ride my brother, but if you come near my car I will END THE WORLD.

This sums it up, yes.

I might like my car more than my siblings though. By a rather wide margin.

And, I will admit, I didn't even try to read the note.

From what I could see of it, it looked neatly and well spelt. Maybe he's just a closet crappy texter.

I would kill to see a fanon chart. It could have topics, and ratings out of ten for how pervasive the "fact" is in fic.

So, Dean, texts like crap: ***** Cas apparates out of nowhere in S5: ******* Someone has to huff: ********** The boys wear sweatpants: ***** Dean loves the car more than he loves Sam: ***** Sam is okay with coming in second to the car: *******

Oh, oh, they always grunt, "First shower," the minute they're in the motel room!

And elide. "M'kay."******* And fist each other's shirts********* Dean smokes** Hustler!Dean****

Every time I see the Prophet Chuck in that commercial where his car won't start in the rain, I can't help but wonder, "Shouldn't you have known, dude?" Apparently he's typecast in my brain.

Theresa, goodness, you have a long memory.

Back in the day of paper day planners, before Daytimer started putting out inspirational pages and things, I had a 6x9" three-ring looseleaf binder. Executives used Daytimer pages and minimal tailoring. I went crazy with mine. I clipped magazine and catalogue photos of paintings, art photos, pretty objects, rainbows, clouds, buttes, mesas, forests, seascapes, and inspirational poems or excerpts from published journals or memoir. Using colored card stock and spray glue, I made divider pages for my own planner and one to divide each month from the next. One section was a two-page per week calendar, one was a phone & address book, one was for short and long range planning, and one had looseleaf filler in blank, for sketches, ruled for jotting notes and ideas, and graph sheets, for doing floor plans and elevations. I had clear pages of photographs, pen and pencil holders, a ruler, and a zip pouch with paperclips, rubber bands, erasers, post-its, small notecards and stamps. The final section was specially chosen handmade rag content stationery, cut to size and hole-punched, that I journaled on. As sheets were filled I removed and replaced them with blank ones, and when I had about an inch's worth, I bound them.

I still use my planner, with paper pages. It still functions the same way, though I've turned to bound paper journals rather than the looseleaf pages. The first time Dean rifled through John's journal, the combination of notes, sketches, clippings, and photographs bulldog clipped onto the covers just reminded me a lot of my own planner.

And that is way more than anybody was interested in on a Friday night.