Self-loathing and Pastries

I am fandom's fool!!!

Primarily a Supernatural blog, but also a Dominion and occasional Marvel and Teen Wolf blog, I write fanfiction and make crazy videos of my little boy.
I'm a part of the VA Posse, and an crazy ass old ass fangirl who's pushing 40 and doesn't plan on slowing down anytime soon.
If you're looking for the author of Cooking with Gas or Painted Angels, you found her.
There's also And I'm a member of this network:

Welcome aboard!

i was tagged by the much awesome clotpoleofthelord!

often a person’s most popular works are not the ones that resonated most deeply with the creator. name some of your personal favourite creations that you find have been totally underrated.

1. Lost and Found:

Yeah, ok, it’s a first person and that can be really annoying. There’s stuff I don’t like it about, but overall, I’m damn proud of it. I still feel like it was my first successful fic, and it’s canon!verse. 

2. No Quarter ‘verse:

It’s endverse and I love it. I want to write more for it. 

3. Some of my shorts, including Aperture, Deanandcas, Better Than Pie, To Raise a Child, and Lonely is the Night. I’m proud of all of my pieces, but these especially. And of course, my first ever Destiel, Super Target

4. A Lesson in Dirt:

Don’t like John Winchester? This fic will make you hate him. John employs an effective teaching method to ensure Dean can get out of a “buried alive” situation. Also canon verse. 

5. Changes in Lattitudes:

Ok, I get it. Wincestiel isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but dammit, I am so effin’ proud of this one! It’s filthy, but there’s an actual plot, and it’s includes all four ships - Sastiel, Wincest, Destiel, and Wincestiel. I hate when I get a wincestiel fic and Sam is basically an accessory or used just to make the destiel happen. 

It’s based on the Kurt Russell flick Captain Ron, and included a dreadlocked Cas in a speedo and trenchcoat. It’s even semi-canon verse. I guess I’d call it canon divergent. sassypancakes made beautiful art for it too!

I don’t generally tag anyone ‘cause I’m an asshole. 

For the record, Painted Angels, my most popular, IS the one that resonated with me the most. I felt every line and every chapter and I’m still feeling it. 

Cas: Happy Destiel day, Dean.
Cas 2: We love you.

Sam: Haha, you been touched by some angels!





“Admit it,” Destiel sneers. “You’re just mad because I’m so popular. You were the big man on campus for four years, but now that there’s some competition you can’t handle the heat.”

“Competition?” Wincest laughs derisively. “Don’t flatter yourself, hotshot. Your entire ship is based on a handful of scenes and a couple catchphrases. The entire show is built on my ship, not to mention twenty-two years of pre-series canon.”

“They’re brothers, you sick fuck!” Destiel shouts. “Would you fuck your own brother?”

“I do fuck my own brother!” Wincest snaps, his anger flaring up dangerously.

They’re face to face, mere inches apart. Wincest doesn’t know when he pinned Destiel to the wall, but his hands are gripping the other’s wrists tightly. The bones feel surprisingly delicate in Wincest’s rough hands, and he feels the smaller ship’s pulse flutter against his fingertips.

“Let go of me,” Destiel hisses.

Wincest just pushes in closer, until their hips are pressed together. His lips curve in a predatory smile at the feel of Destiel’s arousal hardening against his thigh.

“You like this, kiddo?” Wincest demands. “Being held down by a sick fuck?”

“Get off me!” Destiel yells, struggling to loose Wincest’s hold. But he only succeeds in getting his knee between Wincest’s legs, his frantic movements causing their limbs to tangle together even further.

Wincest’s grin widens, and he rolls his hips deliberately. It draws an involuntary whimper out of Destiel, who flushes red and freezes at once.

“Yeah,” Wincest purrs. “You like this.”

“Don’t,” Destiel says feebly, but he’s tilting his face up unconsciously, inviting.

Wincest lets out a low growl and ducks down to nip at the curve of Destiel’s neck, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin and marking him up. Destiel shivers beneath him, momentarily acquiescing.

“Why don’t I teach you a thing or two about profound bonds?” Wincest murmurs.


Remember that time someone wrote Wincest/Destiel and it was brilliant?

Three years later:

“My how the tables have turned,” Destiel murmured smugly as he walked around the bed, trailing a finger over Wincest’s trembling body.

Wincest was tied spread-eagled to the bed—open and vulnerable, just how he liked it.

“Looks like the upstart ship that could has dominated the polls, the headlines, and even has one of its actors on board with it—something you never got.”

“Oh please,” Wincest snarled, ignoring how his pulse quickened when Destiel sat beside him on the bed.  The riding crop that had come out of nowhere made a sharp crack as Destiel slapped his palm with it, causing Wincest to jump.  “My actors know that there is no other as important to each other as the members of my ship.”

“Speaking of members,” Destiel said with a repressed giggle and trailed the riding crop over the obvious bulge in Wincest’s panties.

“You are so immature,” Wincest sighed with a roll of his eyes.

“Like ‘em young though, don’t you, you old pervert?  I mean come on—they’re practically parent/child.”

You’re talking to me about age difference?” Wincest asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Touché,” Destiel smirked.  He leaned close and grabbed Wincest’s lower lip with his teeth, pulling back and letting the plump lip slide slowly—and with just the right amount of pain—through his sharp incisors.

Wincest moaned softly, never one to give in without a fight.

“You’ve seen it,” Destiel whispered in his ear.  “The longing gazes, the soft smiles—and it doesn’t take life or death situations for them to be nice to each other.”

Wincest pulled at his bonds.  “And have you noticed how your ship doesn’t even film scenes together anymore?”

“Only because they know if they’re in the same room together—nothing will stop the gay—“ Destiel forcefully shoved a hand between Wincest’s legs, making him cry out and yank again at his bonds.  “—from exploding all over the place.”

Wincest squirmed and tried not to thrust his hips up into that wonderful pressure.  Destiel bit his lip as he watched Wincest rut against his hand.  He really was beautiful—in his own way.  Wincest scowled at Destiel’s smile.

“You’ll never be canon,” he hissed.

Destiel leaned down and gave Wincest a surprisingly sweet kiss on the lips.  “Neither will you.”

(Source: radiophile, via jayndmitri)


→ awesome art: guusana
→ awesome betas: caswouldratherbehere & princessofliechtenstein
send them love

Well, this is me, publishing my first fic ever. It’s my way to say THANK YOU to every single one of my (almost) 11K followers, who day by day make my online life really exciting and fill my blog with love.

I hope you like it.
I’ve made this with all my heart.

title: i’m lovin’ it
author: onamelancholyhill
word count: 18,000
rating: pg-13
type: alternative universe
status: complete

summary: castiel was always a sybarite. he loved good food and dreamed to be a chef. although, he ended up being an accountant. and buying happy meals for his obnoxious co-workers, even when he despised mcdonalds. however, when he entered the place that particular day he hardly knew a pair of green eyes and a shameful misunderstanding would be turning his life upside down…



Stay away from the Winchesters.

That’s what they tell you when you get pulled into the life, when you lose family or friends to some monster or spirit or demon and your world view shatters. Now that you know there’s monsters out there you can’t turn back. You’ve lost the layer of ignorance that has been blocking your sight.

Hunters, they’re a grumpy sort. They don’t trust easily, have gone through too much for that. They’re soldiers in an endless war, and war, no matter what kind, always leaves marks. Inside and out. They’re rough and sometimes bitter, often cynic, made pessimists. Their glasses are half empty more often than not.

But when they see you’re one of them, when you gain their trust, they’ll help you, teach you a thing or two. Give you advice.

And they say, “stay away from the Winchesters.”

Winchester, that’s a name every hunter knows. And they’re not talking about the gun.

Few have met them, less survived.

Sam and Dean are their names. “Brothers,” they tell you. When they say it, there’s a flash of disgust on their faces. Someone comments, tongue loose with alcohol, “yeah, right.”

"Damn good hunters," they say and nod. At least that’s something everyone can agree on. Still, "they get people killed."

Stay away from the Winchesters.

"Sam and Dean, those two mad sonsofbitches, grew up in this life," you’re told. "John, their old man, went off the deep end when the missus got killed by a demon, packed his things and started roadtrippin’ through the whole goddamn country, lookin’ for that sorry sonuvabitch demon."

"Taught his sons everything he knew," someone else says.

"Damn good hunter himself. Marine before that, I think."

Grunts of agreement follow. Damn good hunters, the Winchesters.


Stay away from the Winchesters.

(via meangreenlimabean)