Here, have some extra Lost/Unwound Future angst:

I just realised that when Claire went to the lab on her last day alive in the past, she was wearing green pants and a white lab coat. This must mean that the outfit she wears during the present-day events of Lost Future must have been acquired after she arrived in the future. 

Dimitri was the first on the scene after the explosion, so he found Claire’s body amid the rubble wearing these clothes she’d changed into in the future, an image which he likely carried with him for the rest of his life. This means he probably recognised the outfit when Claire first put it on, 10 years later. 

Can you imagine Dimitri’s growing unease as Claire (or “Celeste”) slowly accumulates more pieces of clothing during her stay, a blue jacket here, a yellow scarf there, and he’s not sure why he’s uncomfortable when she wears them, until one day when she combines them in a particular way and suddenly it clicks and he realises that he doesn’t like them because he’s seen them on her before. 

These are the clothes she’s going to die in. 

Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

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Beauty is not long hair, skinny legs, tanned skin or perfect teeth. Believe me. Beauty is the face of who cried and now smiles, beauty is the scar on your knee since you fell when you were a kid, beauty is the circles when love doesn’t let you sleep, beauty is the expression on the face when the alarm rings in the morning, it’s the melted makeup when you have a shower, it’s the laughter when you make a joke you’re the only one who can understand, beauty is meeting his gaze and stopping understanding, beauty is your gaze when you see him, it’s when you cry for all your paranoias, beauty is the lines marked by time. Beauty is what we feel in the inside which also shows outside us. Beauty is the marks the life leaves on us, all the kicks and the caresses the memories leave us. Beauty is letting yourself live.

You know what I fucking want? 

I want an episode where our two manly men (I mean Sam and Dean)get kidnapped and Mary Badass Winchester™, Bad Bitch Rowena™ and Queen Jody™ all get together and hit the road to save their asses. Like, literally, that’s the dream, y’all. 

Bonus: Claire and Alex want to come too but Jody tells them no but she’s worried about leaving them alone so Rowena volunteers Crowley to babysit them and Crowley somehow gets Cas (his new bro) to help. 


Finding yourself in any creative environment should always feel positive. I have never done good work feeling like I was forced. I always say to kids who are trying to become actors - you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. Of course, it can be good to be pressured, to have a big responsibility, but at the same time it is yours, you are deciding to do it.” Kristen Stewart by Matt Jones for Elle France, September 2016