What I love (and used to hate) about Becky is that she has a sense of purpose and a lot of drive, and these things are hardwired into her instead of copy-pasted in by God's divine ineffability. You'd think that being a Prophet of the Lord would give someone a lot of purpose and drive, but all it's given me is headaches and a slippery slope to alcoholism. Also the destruction of my house, and my fourth wall. I was using that, guys.

Your Chuck is awesome, dude. You should write more Chuck, yis.

I have a couple of pages about Cas going to Parangtritis so he can ask Nyi Roro Kidul if she knows where God is. The first few paragraphs are all about how sick he felt as soon as he set foot on the beach. He just fell over, and for a while he was lying there with the waves lapping at him, waiting to stop shaking, waiting to not be breathless, hating Dean but loving him too. Missing God and hating Him, and hoping the Sea Queen was in a good mood that day.

I love this paragraph a LOT. I kind of want to read THIS fic, now.