My name is Lacy Potter, and I'm 18 going on 19. I'm just a fangirl, nothing special. But best of all God is my King.
My stress is relieved mainly by Supernatural. Because I've watched all of the Doctor Who and Sherlock episodes. And the feels are too strong to start another fandom, specifically, Merlin. :P
I live in a world all my own, a secret world full of fanfics and stories longing to be written. A world filled with music (Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab specifically) and daydreams. My world is my own, the one thing that nobody can see, or break, or take away from me. Different fandoms just happen to take me to that world.
Hahahaha I must say next to dogs, this would be an apocalypse that I could get behind :D
ill do it later im feeling apocalypsed out rn and im watching star wars
Sam walked out of the hotel bathroom and over to his usual place at the table. His head felt funny but he couldn’t accurately describe the feeling.
“Dean” Sam called to Dean who sat on the hotel couch watching tv. “Was there something wrong with that food we ate earlier? I don’t feel so hot.” Dean choked out a laugh and click the tv onto a documentary about maze farming. Since when did Dean watch farming documentaries?
“Dude you’re never hot, maybe you should think about shearing that coat of yours.” Shearing? Coat? What was with all the farming references? Sam shook his head at Dean’s snarking response and turned his attention back to his laptop screen. They were in town investigating a string of weird deaths. In fact Sam was just researching up some local lore before he’d needed to go splash water on his face. Sam’s face scrunched up as he looked at his screen.
“What the?” On it was a google search for bowvine, but he didn’t remember searching it. Okay this was getting weird. “Dean I think we should call Cas…”
“Why?” Before Sam could voice a reply there was a faint fluttering as Cas announced his arrival.
“Hello Sam, Dean.”
“C-cas?” Sam watched as Cas lifted a corn cob to his mouth and took a healthy bite. Cas seemed unfazed by Sam’s confusion and instead zeroed in his focus to the documentary Dean was watching.
“How does he manage to get his crops looking so luscious even during the off season?” Okay Sam was beyond weirded out, even for Cas. Sam lifted a hand to rub it over his face in an desperate attempt to being clarity to himself, but froze when he felt… Sam was up and on his feet before you could say betsy and over standing in front of the tv.
“Dean do I have…” He froze. Sitting on the couch was a strange man, he was stout and clad in layers of denim and plaid and wearing a cap atop his head. “A beard?” The figure sat upon the couch frowned and then laughed, a laugh terribly close to that of Dean’s.
“Of course Sammy.” Oh god it was Dean. “We all do.” Sam felt his breath catch in his throat as he risked a glance at Cas. Sam’s eyes doubled in size. Cas looked exactly the same as Dean.
“It’s okay Sam.” Cas’ smile seemed sinister coming from this foreign face. “Just embrace the tractor lifestyle.” No, oh god no. Sam sprinted off towards the bathroom and planted himself in front of the mirror. Staring back at Sam was a face that was pudgier than his own with brown eyes and a beard. He took a deep breath as clarity finally reached him. He knew who he was, he was tractor-angel. They were all tractor-angel and they could not rest while there were fields to plow. Sam turned away from the mirror with renewed confidence and from the other room he heard a call.
“Hail tractor-angel.” Sam smiled and straighten the cap upon his head.