#later bunker period

[tongjingnian]

The research can wait (I want to kiss you now).

It is recommended to increase the screen brightness for a better viewing experience 😉

This is a painting that participated in 2023 Dean/Sam Christmas Eggnog Event on Weibo, feel free to search for ＃2023DS圣诞蛋奶酒 on Weibo to view the wonderful works from wonderful wincesties☺️

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #wincest #sam and dean #samdean #deansam #later bunker period #i love later season wincest #they are so domestic #and comfortable with each other #💕💕💕 #quote from Dean: I'm happy with who I am. And I'm happy with who you are. #don't know do i remember it correctly but it's similar at least XD

[vanteguccir]

new addition | dean winchester

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Where Y/N discovers she is pregnant and worries about how her boyfriend, Dean, will react.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, on Wattpad.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, leaning forward over the closed toilet seat as she clenched her hands into fists around the pregnancy test, pulling a puff of air through her nose as if trying to keep herself in reality.

The woman had noticed changes in her body through last weeks, especially in her breasts that seemed larger and more sensitive than normal, which made her wonder if she was close to her period, as this is one of the symptoms of it, but her calendar showed that her period would only come 2 weeks later.

But then the week of her menstrual cycle arrived but there was no drop of blood, the pack of pads Dean had bought the week before was untouched on the counter, and then she began to worry, several possibilities swirling around her mind, but none of them were that one.

Until the day before, during a conversation between herself and Castiel, where the angel blatantly blurted out something he shouldn't have.

"...But that's all I've been able to find so far, Cass. With all the evidence and research, I think we're dealing with a different species of werewolf, but I'd rather read up a little more just to be sure." Y/N informed Castiel, pointing to the open book in front of her on the central wooden table in the bunker room.

"Uhm... Just don't overwork yourself, it won't be good for the baby." The angel responded, getting up from the chair he was sitting next to Y/N and straightening his coat.

The sound of choking echoed through the room, Y/N having choked on air at the older man's response.

"Who?" She asked, looking at him intently.

"The baby." Castiel replied as if it were obvious, his blue eyes widening seconds later. "You didn't know?" He asked slowly, swallowing hard.

"Castiel, what are you not telling me?" Y/N asked, standing up from her chair.

"Wow look at that, Dean is calling me, I have to go." And then the angel disappeared, leaving Y/N alone.

"Hey baby, how are... Y/N? What happened?" Dean entered the room seconds later, interrupting his speech halfway when he saw his girlfriend's frightened and pale face.

"Nothing." She responded quickly, leaving the room with everything behind.

Y/N spent that whole day thinking about what Castiel said, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and the worst of all, it made sense; her body changed, her mood changed, her desires were strange and her period was late.

The woman managed, later that afternoon, to escape the bunker for a few hours and go to the nearest pharmacy, where she bought four pregnancy tests in the absence of one.

The next day, today, she took advantage of Dean and Sam's departure to investigate more about the current case to take the tests, spending long minutes staring at the closed boxes and wondering if she was ready to know the results.

Finally, working up the courage, she took two of the four tests, leaving the other two closed just in case.

Tension took over her body and she wondered how she would tell Dean if the result was positive, what direction her life would take, her life as a hunter...

Finally, 5 minutes later, she opened her tightly closed eyes, lowering her head and looking at the small screen where the result would be shown.

Pregnant.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

That night, Y/N found herself sitting on the bed in her shared room with Dean, the two tests inside a small box that she had found among the Men of Letters' mess which she held in her hands, her eyes attentive to the closed door, seeming to hold her breath.

The sound of the bunker's entrance door opening and closing seemed to wake her up, Y/N blinked her eyes quickly, shaking her head and sighing, briefly looking at the box, but her attention was taken by the door again as she heard it open.

"Hey honey." Dean smiled big when he saw his girlfriend waiting for him, placing his suitcase on the floor and closing the door, starting to take off the tie that was part of his "costume" during the interviews he did regarding the current case.

"Hi Dean." Y/N replied quietly, a tight smile settling on her features, tilting her face slightly upwards as she saw Dean move closer to kiss her.

"Um, is this for me?" The hunter asked when he saw the box in his girlfriend's hands, bringing his hand closer to take it, stopping in his action when he saw Y/N move the box out of his reach.

"Um." She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. "Sorry... Dean, yes it's for you, and I want you to understand the seriousness of this... gift. It's very important to us." Y/N informed, finally extending the box towards the taller man, who was looking at her in confusion.

"Wow, are you asking me to marry you?" Dean joked, taking the box gently and sitting next to his girlfriend, pulling on the makeshift navy blue bow and carefully removing the lid.

His hand that was holding the lid stopped in the air, his body tensing in seconds as his mind seemed to stumble on thoughts, green eyes almost popping out.

"Dean?" Y/N called nervously, her hands were shaking and her heart was beating like crazy, fear was settling in her body and questions were running through her head, the last thing she wanted was to lose Dean, but she wouldn't know how to act if he didn't want the baby.

"A-are you... There's a..." Dean stumbled over his words, never before feeling as nervous as he did in that moment. "Are we going to be parents?" He finally asked, putting the lid and box aside and taking the two tests in his hand, alternating his gaze between them and Y/N.

"Yes Dean, I'm pregnant." Y/N responded, smiling in relief when Dean laughed loudly with joy, pulling her into a long kiss full of smiles.

Y/N laughed as Dean laid her on the bed, lowering himself a little over his girlfriend's body and lifting his own shirt that covered half of her smaller body, looking enchanted at his girl's belly, still not completely believing it.

Dean never exactly imagined himself having his own family, having grown up in a completely unstructured one, his biggest fear was that he wouldn't be a good partner, much less a good father. But after he met Y/N and his heart was completely encircled by the woman, all he wanted most was to be with her forever, only seeing her with him when he thought about the future.

He knew that he wanted a family with her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Dean took a deep breath, turning his head to the side, his eyes carefully analyzing Y/N's face, her eyes practically closed and directed towards the ceiling, feeling extremely relaxed with her head lying on the man's shoulder, listening to his heartbeat, and that's how she realized something was wrong, the sound of the heartbeat becoming louder and faster than seconds before.

"Baby? Is everything okay? Your heart..." Y/N raised her head, now more attentive and awake than before, her eyes focusing on his, feeling her own heart heavy with the confusion of emotions installed in the green pool's.

"What if I can't protect him? What if... What if all our enemies-" He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "You will be vulnerable in these 9 months, what if you can't protect yourself like before? What if I'm not with you at all times and something catches you? The demons, Lucifer, even God... We have so many enemies spread across the world, I can't even imagine the danger he would be in just by breathing." Dean spoke as his eyes darted around the room, trying to find something that would make him think rationally.

"Hey, breathe baby." Y/N sat up straight on the bed, bringing her hands to Dean's cheeks and pulling his face so he was looking back at her. "Are you with me?" She asked, following his eyes until he looked back, nodding. "Dean, we won't always be there for him, we will raise our baby for the world and not for ourselves, the last thing I want is to keep him with us, that would be selfish of us. We will protect him throughout his life, and I guarantee you that we will do a great job at that, you know why? Because you are an incredible man and you care, the way you take care of Sam and practically raised him alone says that in itself. Yes, we have many enemies, more than I will ever be able to count, but we will learn together how to deal with this having this new addition in our lives, and I'm sure you'll get it right."

Dean sucked in air through his nose, his eyes filling with tears as a smile spread across his face, approaching and planting a lingering kiss on the lips that he already knew by heart and would never get tired of tasting.

"What would I do without you?" He whispered against Y/N's mouth, feeling her lips move into a smile.

"I don't know, but you would definitely be lost."

And at that moment Dean knew that the two of them would make it work, and in the near future they would have their complete family.

#x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester #castiel #hunters #angel #dean x reader #dean #winchester #imagine #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #pregnancy #love #angst

[holylulusworld]

Date interruptus

Summary: Dean walks in on you and…

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Side pairing: Cole Turner x fem!Reader

Warnings: coitus interruptus, embarrassment, nakedness, Tinder date gone wrong, implied smut

Square 19 filled for @theslumberparty-blog presents bingo: Tinder date

Dean walks toward the motel room, grinning like he won the lottery. While his brother grumbles under his breath because the monster they ganked ruined his jacket, Dean is in a good mood.

He’s got a six-pack tugged under his arm and balances a bag full of greasy food in one hand.  “Sammy, why the sour mood? We got the ghoul good.”

“It ruined my jacket and pants, Dean,” his brother mutters. “How about you bunker in Y/N’s room? I’ll need all the hot water to get the remnants of the ghoul off my skin.”

“Huh? Sure,” Dean shrugs. “I’ll sleep in her room. Y/N got a spare bed.” The hunter grins. He doesn’t mind spending the night in your room. “Just get clean, and don’t forget your hair. You reek.”

“Jerk,” Sam grunts.

“Bitch,”  Dean bites back. The hunter chuckles and walks toward your room. “I hope she’s got some hot water left…”

While his brother enters their shared room, Dean knocks at your door with his boot.

“Sweetheart? Do you mind letting me sleep in your room tonight? Sammy is on his period.”

Dean frowns when you don’t answer. You wanted to stay at the motel to do more research and now you won’t open the door.

“Y/N, are you alright?” The hunter places the bag with food, and the sixpack in front of the door. He knocks again, a little louder this time. “Sweetheart, I need you to answer me, or I’ll kick the door open.

Dean listens closely. He presses his ear to the door only to hear you whimper. The hunter doesn’t waste more time. He kicks the door open; gun aimed at your potential attacker a split second later.

“Y/N? Down. I got this,” he yells as his eyes land on the naked man standing at the end of your bed. “You sick fucker! I’ll kill you! I’ll shoot your limp dick off!”

“DEAN! WHAT THE FUCK!” You shriek and grab the blanket to cover your body. “What are you doing here?”

Your company doesn’t have such luck. The man stands in the room, staring at Dean’s gun like a deer in the headlights. “I-I,” the man babbles. “G-un.”

“Dude, he’s not some psycho! He’s my date, Dean!” you yell. “Christ, I stayed behind this time for a reason! Can a woman not have some fun without you kicking her door open?”

Dean’s cheek twitches and his face is bright red. He looks like he just walked in on his parents having sex. “I-I…fuck.” He finally secures his gun and tugs it away to cover his eyes. “Can…can he put on some clothes please?”

“Cole, sorry. But I think this won’t work out,” you huff. “Maybe we can chat again?”

Cole doesn’t hesitate. He hurriedly grabs his clothes, only throwing his boxers on before fleeing out of the room. “Fucking psycho!” He grunts while passing Dean by. “I knew it was a mistake to agree to go on a date with her.”

“Watch your tongue, Mr. limp dick,” Dean yells after Cole. “You sonofabitch!”

“DEAN! It’s not his fault,” you slip out of the bed to look for your clothes. “Why did you have to kick the door open? This was the first date I had in months, and you ruined it!”

“I saved you from Mr. limp dick.” He argues. “Y/N, it’s dangerous to meet up with guys you find on Tinder.”

“Well, newsflash Dean. I have needs too, and I barely find the time to hook up with a nice guy. All of the guys I meet are—” You wrinkle your nose. “You know what I mean.”

“No reason to invite that douchbag to your room. Next time, invite me,” Dean gasps. Did he say this out loud? “I mean, I got food and beer if you want some.”

“This doesn’t make up for the ruined sex date,” you point out. “If you want to make things up to me, get out of your clothes. I didn't buy expensive lingerie for you to ruin my chance to get laid.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Winchester. And don’t think you’ll leave this room before you made me cum…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #the slumber party #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #Date interruptus

[deliciousdefendorinternet]

come to think of it how do you think Branch learnt everything he knows?

in TBT he says in the argument scene that after Grandma died there was no one left to take care of him confirming that he literally had no one after her death.

implying with everything else we know about his backstory that he Raised himself from a very young age likely 5 6 or 7 I'd assume based purely on his looks alone.

but thinking about it how could he have learnt how to do everything that he knows as an adult?

I mean I know some of it can simply be self taught but do you really think a little kid that age would be able to self learn everything that Branch knows as an adult?

like how to build an underground Bunker without it collapsing in on itself? and how to build a working lift in the Bunker?

and just basic stuff like cooking and maintaining a House by himself ( Hell I'm in my early 20s and I still struggle with a lot of that crap 😂😂😂😂 )

I mean do you think he literally is meant to have just been alone? or do you think its more a case where he didn't have a specific guardian per say.

but maybe he was still technically looked after by the village to an extent like he had people to teach him certain things and or bring him food and stuff that he needed to make sure he was still healthy.

but he still sorta just lived on his own and didn't interact with other people unless he absolutely had to due to how closed off he was.

some people like to HC Kismet as having visited him during all those years to check up on him occasionally and bring him stuff and make sure he was properly taking care of himself.

so maybe we could find out something like that was the case in a future film tho maybe not necessarily with Kismet as cute as that would be.

like maybe he did have certain people looking out for him over the years when he was a kid despite him closing himself off from everyone.

IDK it'd just be sorta cute I think he still has large gaps in his Backstory that DreamWorks could potentially work with in the future.

like maybe a future film does actually introduce a new character from his past during that period in his life who tried to look out for him or at least check up on him every now and then to make sure he wasn't literally dead.

as I like the idea of him maybe having a kinda surrogate parent figure in a future film who he didn't even really think of in that way.

but later on its pointed out to him just how much they tried to do for him as he was growing up even tho they had to somewhat do it from a distance given Branch's wishes of wanting to be alone.

like maybe they were someone who also lost loved ones to the Bergens and they were more understanding of Branch's grief and him not being able to move on like the rest of the village did.

plus they just had a basic human amount of empathy and could see it probably wasn't Right to leave a grieving traumatised little kid with nothing to take care of himself with.

and maybe over the course of the film he kinda slowly realises even during all those years he spent alone someone did actually care and at least tried to look out for him.

and Branch comes to appreciate them like family plus Bro zone would instantly like them given how they looked out for him when they weren't there.

so they don't judge the relationship at all and are just kinda happy for Branch. ( I mean they can't claim he's betraying their parents memory or anything he didn't even know them as far as we know )

but now I'm getting more into fanfic ideas territory than cannon based speculation territory lol.

I just want the next film to give my boy some Happiness and a cute little semi surrogate parent plot has been spinning around in my head for the past week now.

I just kinda love the idea even if it would sorta be a retcon to his backstory and more new characters for the future films to have to introduce and develop even tho the cast is already super full.

but like I said I just find the idea kinda sweet plus screw Brozone lol I'd love for my boy Branch to find a found family member in the future.

who actually did try and be there for him throughout the worst periods of his life even when the rest of the village may have saw him as a lost cause.

but like I said that's more fanfic idea territory anyway what do you think in regards to the main question of the post? 😂😂😂😂

#like seriously give branch some actual stress free happiness next film come on DreamWorks TBT basically made him even more miserable #and only offered up the most surface level empty happiness at the end of the film like you can add new elements to his past besides angst. #trolls band together #branch trolls #branch #trolls dreamworks #trolls 3 #trolls branch angst #Trolls #Trolls Branch #Trolls Branch Angst #trolls #dreamworks trolls

[shalotttower]

Yandere!Joseph Seed Headcanons

Type: General Headcanons Characters: Joseph Seed x Reader (afab) Word count: 700+ Notes: Manipulation, coercion, isolation, captivity, emotional abuse, forced proximity, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamics, brief mention of suicide possibility, implied possibility of pregnancy.

- Joseph is calm, patient, and calculating with you. He won't rush into things or make impulsive decisions. As someone who is skilled at manipulation, he understands the necessity of waiting (and patience is a virtue). He is persistent and determined, but in a very quiet and measured way, like a rock steadily going down the hill.

- Joseph sees you as his ultimate test of faith and a reward shall he pass it. The Voice told him, he saw it in his dreams, every little sign points to you being the one he was meant to find. And once Joseph decides on something, he won't change his mind. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try to run or hide, Joseph will find you and bring you home.

- He wins your affection through misplaced empathy, touch (because there's no shame in closeness), and by simply being there whenever you need it - even if sometimes you wish he wasn't.

- Joseph views your reluctance as the result of Pride speaking in you and a part of his own trial. And trials exist to be overcome.

- Joseph knows people. He can read them, hopes and fears, weaknesses and strengths, virtues and vices, what they love and hate. He utilizes it with you, observes your habits and behavioral patterns. Joseph doesn't force - he nudges and encourages, planting the seeds and hints in your head and letting them grow; he manipulates you by making you come to desired conclusions on your own.

- If you're stubborn, Joseph will deprive you of sleep, but in a way that seems natural (there's suddenly a lot of work he needs your help with or he keeps you awake longer and wakes you up earlier, because this and that). He will increase the time of his lectures or restrict access to certain areas until you waver. The book you're reading will disappear and he has no idea where it is, etc.

- However, don't think Joseph is passive. Yes, he prefers a gentler approach with you, but understands the necessity of harsher methods too. Even God has to punish his children, after all, and it's always for their sake. If you push him too much (and it takes a lot to achieve that), he will "teach you humility" and his methods are often connected to the feeling of shame. He may restrain you and make you ask for basic needs like food, toilet or water; lock you up in an empty room without sustenance for a few days and sit by your door, reading the Bible aloud; wash you/feed you himself, denying you autonomy. If looks is something you value about yourself, he might cut your hair short. Making you watch as he burns something you cherish is also not off the table. He will not beat you, but if having your buttocks smacked will get the point across and make you feel ashamed, then Joseph will do it.

- Hurting you, however, doesn't give him pleasure and he will later spend the hours in prayer asking God for forgiveness for his temper, even if that was necessary. He won't be apologetic towards you, but later when you've both calmed down he will console you and provide whatever comfort you need: a hug, a touch (which feels increasingly familiar), stroking your hair and telling you a biblical story as an analogy for your behavior.

- It's Joseph's responsibility to protect you from yourself and guide you on the right path, because you're lost and confused in his mind. There's only one truth - Eden's Gate - and he will do his best to save your soul before it's too late.

- If it's the Bunker, you're sharing a bed, period. Joseph isn't letting you out of his sight and will be sleeping next to you. He can't risk you offing yourself and leaving him alone.

- If it's somewhere else, like the compound or wherever he keeps you, you will have your own room if he trusts you enough. Your room will have its own bathroom and Joseph won't be intruding, unless you give him a reason to. He'll grant you permission to move freely within the compound, but two faithful will always follow behind.

- Joseph doesn't force himself on you, though he'll take any opportunity to initiate physical contact. Taking your hands in his, kissing your forehead, loosely putting an arm around your waist. He watches how you react, whether you're leaning in or pulling away. If the latter is the case, he'll be more subtle, but won't stop.

- Joseph wants a family with you. A future together after the Collapse.

#shalott headcanon #yandere #far cry 5 #yandere joseph seed #joseph seed x reader #joseph seed #far cry 5 headcanons #far cry 5 fanfiction

[superawesome40]

Imagine this:

It starts with Bobby John. Dean can't let the baby go, he reminds him too much of Sam, way back when Sam was this age, and Daddy was always sad (or drunk), and when Dean tried to speak the words got stuck, and he could not make a sound. He can't let the baby go, so he doesn't.

Over time, they gather more. Bobby John, Ben, Joe and Ryan, Emma, Alex, Krissy and Aiden and Josephine, Magda, Claire, Jack. They find Jesse again, 16 years old and alone and scared of himself. They find Charlie and Kevin, and even though they aren't quite their kids, they treat them with the same care.

Somewhere in between the always rising tide of children, they find the Bunker. It's perfect - dozens of rooms for everyone to spread out, to have their own space. Bobby doesn't die, but he does move to the bunker "To keep an eye on ya' idjits,”. The modifications they make to the Bunker for his wheelchair are worth it to see the pride in his eyes. Linda Tran moves in, and she and Dean have an ongoing war over who's in control of the kitchen.

Of course, things aren't perfect. Chuck is still a problem, and eventually he must be dealt with. They win, but the cost is heavy. Cas and Jack are gone, and Dean... well he's as good as gone. He never leaves his room anymore, except to get a drink. Their dysfunctional family is mourning, both for those who they've lost and for themselves. Disappearing and coming back is much more traumatic than you'd expect.

Eventually, in an attempt to cheer him up, they convince him to go on a hunt. Just a small thing, a nest of vamps. They've killed a man and mutilated his wife, as well as taken their kids, two small boys. Someone (later, no one will remember exactly who) jokes that they can take in the boys. Sam and Dean leave, looking more cheerful than they’ve been in weeks.

They get the call a few hours later. Sam tells them over the phone, barely understandable through his tears, that Dean was hurt in the fight and that the doctors aren’t sure if he’ll pull through. Using the variety of cars in the bunker, they break a handful of laws and probably the sound barrier on their way to the hospital. Bobby pulls Sam aside and he explains, in detail, what happened. They wait for hours before a doctor finally enters the waiting room, asking for the family of Dean Fletcher* (Millie Winchester’s maiden name).

Dean survives, barely. Recovery is an uphill battle, and the damage done to his spine, muscles, and nerves leave him wheelchair-bound and in near-constant pain. Eventually, he’s able to move around for short periods of time using forearm crutches and leg braces, but it’s only after a few years and a lot of physical therapy. At the very least, the Bunker needs no new changes to accommodate him, having been updated for Bobby ages ago.

A year passes. The two boys from the vamp hunt are moved into the Bunker after their mother succumbs to her injuries in the hospital, and quickly adjust and thrive in the new location. Sam and Eileen quit hunting, permanently. They move to town, only fifteen minutes away, and visit every Saturday for family dinner. When they get married, Sam Winchester becomes Sam Leahy. Jody retires, and moves her hoard to the Bunker. They’ve got the room, after all. Donna follows not too long after. Miracle is officially trained as a service animal, to help Dean with his panic attacks.

One night, Dean can’t sleep. He hauls himself into his wheelchair and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. He stops at the sight of three people sitting at the table.

The reunion is a tearful one. Dean cries from relief, and guilt, and of course the burning pain that rips through his back as a result of him temporarily forgetting he can’t stand and launching himself out of his chair. Cas also cries, sobbing apologies into Dean’s hair from where they are curled on the floor. Jack, pressed between the two of them and both overwhelmed and overstimulated, can only beg for Dean’s forgiveness. His dads wipe away his tears and press kisses to his cheeks, assuring him that he has nothing to apologize for.

The only one who doesn’t cry is Adam, sitting slightly stony faced at the table. Later, once the commotion of the reunion has died and Sam has been woken and summoned to the Bunker, the three sit down to chat.

Adam tells them that he’s not angry anymore, and begs them to explain everything to him, starting from the beginning. He is especially curious about their father, and realizes through their stories that John badly mistreated them. Dean invites Adam to stay in the Bunker, but Adam declines. He says that there’s a lot he needs to do, but hesitantly suggests that they stay in touch. Their relationship is tentative at first, but eventually he becomes a permanent fixture in the family.

Cas and Jack are filled in on what they missed. Dean pulls them each aside and apologizes privately for the things he said and did before the end. He assures Jack that he is part of the family, and always will be. He tells him he’s willing to be Jack’s dad, if that’s what Jack wants. Jack enthusiastically agrees.

He can’t quite bring himself to say “I love you” to Cas, but he says something along the lines of “maybe one day.” He also implies to Cas that John was extremely homophobic, and the combination of that and the sexual trauma he has experienced through his life (getting money for food/rent as a teen, Hell, Lydia) makes him hesitant now to form romantic relationships. Cas, understanding as always, agrees and comments on how he has improved at opening up, to which Dean replies that there wasn’t much else to do when he was trapped in bed and couldn’t escape Sam and his relentless therapy-talks.

Jack tells them as a group that he has decided there doesn’t need to be a God, and has stepped down after reforming Heaven. He says that he used his power for the last time to bring back Castile and find Adam. He confesses to his parents that the power is not gone, and likely never will be. He also says that he would like to grow up as human as possible, and promptly shrinks to the size of a toddler, much to the bewildered amusement of his parents. They discover that he no longer has his memories, and Bobby suggests that they may come back when he’s older, and that forgetting is his young mind's way of protecting itself.

As time passes, Cas and Dean open the Bunker to other hunters as a research facility and safe space to stay for a few nights. Neither of them hunt anymore, but they offer support and badly needed organization. With Charlie and Kevin’s help, they set up a system like the one Sam originally had.

When Eileen and Sam announce they are expecting, Dean is ecstatic. When they reveal the baby is a boy and that they are naming him “Dean II”, he cries for a solid hour. He’s the first, outside of Sam and Eileen, to hold the baby, who he affectionately nicknames “Junior”.

In the end, they are happy. They live together peacefully.

Would anyone be interested in reading this on ao3? I miiiight be planning to write this… also any suggestions/question/concerns are welcome! Also, if I missed any kiddos (canon only, please), feel free to tell me! I’m perfectly open to expanding their hoard.

Also, I cannot take complete credit for this story. Quite a few elements are inspired by foolondahill17’s stories, Dean Winchester’s half-way house for orphaned half-monsters (and humans), and the miracles ‘verse by the same author. Both are absolutely amazing stories, and I highly recommend.

*According to the Supernatural Wiki, Adam Glass wanted the actress Louise Fletcher to play Millie Winchester should she appear on screen.

#supernatural #writing #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #claire novak #ben braeden #jesse turner #emma winchester #bobby john #jack kline #supernatural au #fanfic #eileen leahy #spn

[vonev]

The Executioner (and the judge) III

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Chapter 3: because wherever you go, I'll follow; even through hell, I'll find you

Part I Part II Part III

Words: 3.6k Summary: This…KorTac guy is kinda weird, but you finally meet Ghost, so yay, right?

a/n: i may or may not have lost a braincell or two but the grind dont stop baby

Warnings: VERY suggestive themes in this one, be warned!

Bzz-bzz-bzz—

—you awake with a headache deep in your noggin, hand feeling around the side of your head scrambling for your phone, only to feel the unpleasant buzz against your thigh.

Right.

Amidst your slumber, you forgot you don’t live in that poor excuse for a bunker anymore; as nice as it had been during an emergency, you have come to appreciate the soft linen below you that hugs your body in all the right ways. That’s not to say you’ll have the privilege to continue indulging in said comfort; because the sun shining through your tinted windows said otherwise. 

With a soft grumble you sit up from your face-down position, your hand instinctively reaches up to rub away the sleepiness off your eyes, yawning, you take a brief glance at your phone.

7:39 a.m. Thursday.

To be honest, you could head back to bed and relax, who’s to say you can’t?

Right then, a solid knock sounds from your door, and with that, you push yourself off the bed with an irritated groan; your body functions on auto-pilot, hand extending out to twist the doorknob before you could fully process your surroundings. You flinch at the harsh coldness of the doorknob as you groggily crack the door open.

Your eyes meet the midsection of the person, a man’s, because you’ve only ever met men that wear shirts too tight for them just to show off. Tilting your head backwards, you slowly lift your gaze up to see that it’s the same man you spoke about with Kate the day before—König—he’s infinitely taller in person, yet you don’t feel threatened by his presence; which is odd, but a welcome change. 

Neither of you speak up, only ever stare at each other; the cold morning air breeze past your body, you shiver, your arm trailing up the other to rub some warmth into your body. 

“...yes?” 

Upon hearing your voice, the man blinks once, then twice; you can’t tell if he’s silently judging you—or just lost. 

“Kate wants to see you,” his voice is surprisingly…light, for a man of his stature; you’d have expected a deep bass, maybe even grain in his voice. But he speaks softly, like the small raise of his voice would scare you off. He’s gentle, you think, and respectful, because he doesn’t try to stare you down as though you’re inferior. Maybe you judged him too harsh earlier.

You nod, “I’ll…get changed, I’ll meet her in about,” you glance down and check your empty wrist as though you wore a watch. “…15 minutes?” 

König only nods in response then stepping aside, presumably walking back to wherever he came from.

Sighing, you gently close your door, the hinge doesn’t scream this time—providing some much needed quietness in your morning. You drag yourself over to the sink and pull out the cabinet, amenities sitting in its creamy insides. Your eyes scans and falls onto the period products tucked away to the side; you make a mental note of thanking Kate later. Grabbing some products you then strip yourself off of your sweat-coated clothes, you don’t look in the mirror as you approach the bathroom.

Jumping in the shower you wince as the sudden sputters of cold water hit your back, you let out a much needed breath of relief, your body soon adjusts to the brutal temperature of the flood sliding down the curves of your exhausted figure. You haven’t had a proper shower in a while, either, relying on damp cloth gets old after a while; so this change of routine puts a small smile on your face, lifting some weight off your tired shoulders.

It doesn’t take long for you to get ready; a couple of minutes to dry up, slipping on undergarments and a casual shirt and jeans, you run the hairbrush through your damp hair for the final time before heading out.

The noise of birds chirping outside pierce through the thin walls, a pleasant sound that swells within your heart, your steps halts as you stare out of the window next to you; the beautiful sight of nature going about catches your attention. Trees sway along with the autumn wind, leaves fall into the already bundled piles on the ground, the sky a gorgeous hue of orange, blue, pink and white—like the display of painter’s hard work, of their blood, sweat and tears all pouring onto the sky outside as clouds resembles blotches of white paint. 

The soft breeze outside pushes past the tiny crack of the window, leaving gentle kisses across your skin as it passes.

It all blends so well together, harmonizing with minimal effort; if any at all.

You took leisure for granted, after being cooped up with only yourself and the smell of death outside as your company, you missed the small things in life: the glorious nature, the gracious flow of things as they came and went, the casual habits of the world around you.

The people.

“…are you okay?” 

Holy mother of Jesus.

Turning over to the voice, you catch König’s curious eyes boring into the back of your skull. Being built like 5 tons of trucks didn’t stop this man from being a master in stealth, it seems, because you don’t get sneaked up on a lot—a necessary habit of the war; indented into your DNA. Only one other person catches you off-guard, the same person that has you sweat under your thin shirt even with the cool breeze. 

A brief projection of a skull printed mask enters the back of your mind before you quickly suppress it.

“I’m alright, thank you,” your eyes flicker toward the scenery outside once more, imprinting it into your mind. For some reason, it makes you feel better about yourself. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Kate already?” looking back, and up, at him with your head tilted, you don’t miss the way his eyes widen. 

“Yes, yes I am.”

With that, he turns on his heels and paces back down the quiet hallway; his boots emit a soft thump with every step he takes. You follow behind, keeping a respectful distance, both of your steps creating their own rhythm that echoes in the empty concrete hallway walls.

Along the way, you zone out, your mind running off to another realm while your body carries itself in a routinely manner toward the hall where the meeting room sits.

You zone out too much, because you walk straight into a wall—er, König’s back. 

“Ow—fuck.” 

“You okay, little maus?” 

“Yeah I’m fine—little what?” your eyes snap to his, confusion smothers your face.

“I’m—sorry, it’s nothing,” he doesn’t elaborate, his shoulders slumps and twists the other way to open the door.

He stands there to the side, hand on the doorknob and peering back at you. You cock an eyebrow, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one of your legs. A soft Ding! rings in your head, your lips part, and a grumbled Thanks slips out of you as you enter the dimly lit room. 

What a gentleman. 

You see the woman before she sees you; and when she does, a small smile spreads out on her lips, nodding to you in regard. You hear the door click quietly behind you as you sit down on a seat chair; König sits right across you, his head facing Kate’s way. 

Kate starts off simple, straight to the point—you’ll both be dropped in one of the designated safe houses near the Russians’ territory, and you’ll start off slow, steady. 

Okay. You think, I can do it slow and steady. 

If someone were to ask you your specialty; you’d come up with no answers. To simply put: you’re good at killing, and dragging information out of the victims in your grasps. 

But you can’t say, Oh, I’m very good with knives. Or, I can drop heads like flies. 

You just manage, and it was enough—because it landed you in one of the best task forces known to the people in the know. 

Adaptable, Perhaps? You’re unsure, nor do you have anyone around to question such things casually, especially during a serious briefing.

“From then on, we’ll move on the fly, I know you both are extremely capable at handling yourselves.” Kate’s eyes dart to your face momentarily before turning to König. “So I’m gonna need you to keep me updated.”

You decided; if it means you’re not good with a certain thing—you’re good with everything.

“Remember, this is a secret mission for now until we send out the team—absolutely no words about this should slip out of this room today, or tomorrow, and the day after.”

“Yes ma’am,” König pats his palm over his heart, his version of commitment to the cause.

Kate nods at him, appreciative, then looks over to you in anticipation.

You shrug.

“I’ve nothing to lose.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

This is it, you think.

With a blanket draped over both your shoulders, you find yourself seated at the bench right outside your room; thoroughly enjoying the cold yet inviting breeze that carries strands of your hair into the air. 

This is what life is about: the moments of serenity that can’t be bought, when the weather is just right. Not too in your face, yet present. 

It calls out to you, a gentle touch manifested into the form of the winds blowing past your slightly shivering frame. The moonlight illuminates your surroundings, shadows fall into their respective places, and where the darkness is the most prominent, the light shines brighter. 

Yin and Yang, like nights and days. They contrast, they fight. 

Like you and him—back in the good ol’ days, back when you both latched at each other’s throat with no remorse, a spit here, another spit there. The both of you would clash; where you’d want something, he’d want it entirely differently. 

For example: when you all had been deployed to bumfuck nowhere in Alaska, your belongings naturally came with as well. In the kitchen, everyone shared the same lackluster cabinets. You’d store your snacks all in one side of the cabinet, and you would wake up the next morning to utter confusion when said snacks couldn’t be found anywhere—

—anywhere except Simon’s side of the cabinet, of course.

For some odd reason it started an all-out cold war, you’d both purposefully misplace things: towels atop the toilet seat, storage boxes not being in the storage shelves, badges in-between sofa cushions. You and him would manage to find every single one of them; to your frustration. And seeks out to correct them. 

The cold war only ended because you hadn't been able to find the gauze to stop his actively bleeding wound one stormy night. 

It served as a lesson: don’t fuck with each other’s things.

And especially don’t fuck each other.

Of course, you’d have gone and messed that up.

Ghost sits with his back against the window, a propped leg on the still supporting the weight of his arm. 

His dark eyes follow your every move as you skillfully maneuver around the kitchen, a pun-based apron tied loosely around your waist, your hands busying themselves chopping up some onions and red pepper to go with the steak sizzling in the heated pan next to you.

You count in your head, 1, 2, 3, repeat, all to steady your breathing and not mess up dinner; you wouldn’t want to suffer through a fucked up steak then cry yourself to sleep. That wasn’t your plan, no. But you’re incredibly sleep deprived, the only support system being the thoughts that circulate your head. Or maybe it’s the deep wound you still carry on the side of your stomach? You don’t quite know, nor do you care—you’re starving, all you can think about is eat, eat, eat—

Amidst your haziness, the knife slips from your buttery finger, and cuts through the thin barrier of your fingertip. 

“Ouch—fuck me.” 

“Let me look at that.” 

Jumpy, you feel your heart leap out of your throat at Ghost’s sudden appearance behind you. Cautiously you hold your finger to your chest, and it takes Ghost’s hand prying at it to get you to release them. 

Blood seeps out the curve of the knife wound; it’s rather deep, but not enough to warrant any emergency care, give it a day or two and it’ll disappear as soon as it was there. Ghost stares at your fingertip, his eyes emotionless, darting from between your face and the blood that continues to flow out of your skin.

Then the unexpected happens—he hooks his free thumb under his mask and lifts. Your mouth left agape as you tried to process the commotion happening in front of your very eyes. 

His scarred lips come into view, he slowly brings your hand closer; your fingertip now grazing his bottom lip. A shudder rippled through your entire body; you remain motionless, uncertain and absolutely bedazzled. 

“It’s…it’s fine, really—“ 

You almost let out the loudest yelp that would’ve woken everyone else up from their evening naps. Because as the words get caught in your throat, Ghost pushes out his tongue and licks the tip of your finger. 

Your heart steadily pumps in your eardrums, fast yet too slow, and his eyes didn’t help soothe the concerning pace, either—with how sultry his gaze screams as he peers up at you from this angle, you could feel a familiar pool of wetness rub against the fabric of your underwear. You try to hide it by squishing your thighs together for some friction, hoping, praying, that it’d evaporate. 

Ghost notices, because he always does. 

His free hand glides up the exposed skin of your thigh; and of course you had to be wearing shorts that convenient night. His gentle touches send bolts of electricity through your nerves, igniting the suppressed part inside of you hidden away for so long; the part of you that you’d always deny—because you can’t have him, not when he hates your guts, right? 

…Right…?

His eyes say otherwise—God, those eyes, how you’d kill to stare into them day and night. 

He drops your injured hand, and instead, reaches up to brush the pad of his thumb over your flushed cheek, then gradually over your plump lips as he slots his finger right into your mouth. All the while he held your eyes with his, never once diverting his attention to anywhere else but you. His thumb crudely explores every nook and cranny of your mouth, settling to rest above the soft pad of your tongue.

“Tell me no,” he breathes out, exasperated; the actions had affected him as much as it did to you. “Tell me no and I’ll stop, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

You hesitate, the desperate longing for his skin on yours too much to bear—

—with a gentle shake of your head, his eyes lit up; the fire that once burns quietly behind his orbs now cackles into life. 

The situation soon escalates from Look, I’m touching you in all the right places to I’m touching you in all the right spots inside, with my cock. 

You had woken up very sore the next day; though incredibly satisfied. You swore he smirked at you when you both passed by each other that morning in the kitchen, drowned in the loud noises of your teammates’ banters.

The hunger you’d push away before now comes back tenfold whenever you’d see him sauntering over to you at night, in the quiet of your bedroom, only filled by his rough grunts and your muffled moans. 

It was how you’d spend the rest of the months, always sneaky and unsuspicious, both of you had an unspoken oath to keep things private; not daring to put a label on the sticky situation you found yourselves in.

You sigh, your breath visible under the cold autumn weather.

Just as you were about to get up from the bench, something moved from the corner of your eye.

You freeze up, your body left hanging in an awkward position in the air with your arm supporting your weight on the armrest, your eyes dotting around the scene in front of you, unmoving. 

Everyday, you live by fear that something would eventually catch up to you; the efforts of your runaway gone to ash. Were you ever not restless? With the ghost of your past constantly etching your back in scars that would haunt even your worst nightmares—skittish, that’s what you are. Forever molded into the remnants of your history, not moving on, letting yourself melt into the shape of a new you; yet just as empty if not more. It makes you doubt yourself. Question your life choices during somber times; what led you here? What compelled you to do the things you did? 

For love, you think. Everything you did up until this point had been for someone else. What about yourself?

You never had the pleasure to sit down and self-reflect, even as you were contained within a small bunker for years, the memories never once left you the way everything else did. Rusty; as your grip tightens on the armrest, you feel the practiced measure of the way you used to hold a gun slip out of you—it doesn’t actually, but it sure feels like it.

The wind sings out to you, and in this small area where you exist, you could feel the presence of something else: something more. Larger than you, perhaps. Maybe even commanding with how the leaves seem to have stopped swaying, though the gust keeps on moving.

Something moves, something undetermined. 

But you can tell; pinpointing its position based on the fraction of second their figure was exposed to you.

Right behind the large tree trunk that loomed over seemingly everything else, the person is shrouded by the shadows, you figured.

“I know you’re there,” you sigh. “Come out.” It wasn’t a request but rather a demand—because whoever this person is, they’re starting to graze your thin nerves.

And they do. 

Leaves crunches underneath their heavy steps, muffling the noise; but you know they’re there, and they’re right beside you.

You turn your head—and suddenly, it’s as though you experienced an icy whiplash over your entire body; your blood runs cold, your fingers numb.

He’s there.

Towering over you, his presence is as domineering as you last remembered it; and for just a second, you’re pulled back to that winter, one where you could’ve taken your last breath in the stormy blizzard, should’ve.  

He crinkles his nose slightly; it’s not noticeable enough, but with you, you always notice, you always know.

Know how his hand once felt in yours, the twinkle in his eyes and the sly curve of his lips behind that mask as he’d stare at you like you were the best thing in his life. That autumn, when his knees touch yours in a way that has you choking on your hot drink, spilling the beverage all over yourself—and he’d stare, he stared because he found it amusing; found you absolutely breathtaking with the way the light from the fireplace had hit you just right. How he liked it.

Right now, as you sheepishly peer into his eyes for a void, you’re not sure if you’re looking at the same person you used to know; the Simon that had you wrapped around his pretty little finger. Maybe he’s Ghost, in an ironic way. How he’d fleet away just as easy as he slots in, still the same man that haunts your every dream, every nightmare. Everywhere you go it’s him; him that now looks past you—and God does it hurt.

He’s never been a man of many words, only a little where it matters the most; or none, yet you know he’s consumed by the thoughts running around in his head, clouding his conscience, unreadable, unreachable.

And certainly not present; his mind is always far away yet grounded—you could never understand that part of him, but everything else? You do. You do because in the back of your mind, you reserve a very special place for him: the crows feet whenever he’d break a smile, the specific spot of his mole no one else knows about (except for Johnny), the musical notes of his laughter, the rough calluses on his hands. 

“...hey,” you lift a hand up to wave at him, timid, sweat starts breaking through the skin of your palm.

He doesn’t respond, only listens. That’s what he does all the time—so why does it make you extra nervous now? You supposed the meeting would’ve gone way smoother, you know, if he hadn’t believed you were dead for years.

His eyes seem so far away, like he’d up and go to another realm you couldn’t follow with. And it worries you to no end. Unsure; you take a huge leap in chance, your other hand extends out to brush his sleeves. Except, he retracts himself away from you; his body twists slightly further back to avoid your touch.

Have you ever learnt the true meaning of a heartbreak? You swore the deep cracks in your heart only worsens; all with just one swift move of his body, and you’re a mess.

“Simon—”

There it is; the look.

“...don’t call me that.”

An excruciating chill runs down your spine; you stay as still as your arm that still sticks in the air, you don’t move when he starts to turn his back to you, walking the same direction he came from, waltzing back into his own world—you used to live there, not anymore, though. Clearly, the few words he said pierce deep into your heart, and it bleeds; it bleeds until the streams run dry–-until you can’t breathe anymore.

You taste some saltiness on your tongue, when you reach up with your fingers, you realize you’d been crying for a good minute. Your tears flowing like a river—it flows because your heart can’t do the same anymore, it stops beating, and your world comes crashing down on you. 

#angst #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #kate laswell #konig call of duty #konig #ghost x you #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod mwii #call of duty #i love torturing myself #with angst

[isabel3710]

Some random Feral! Branch and Clays thoughs/ideas because I am mentally ill and I felt silly:

- Some years after settling down in the forest, Clay learns how to make paper and now spends most of his time journaling and writing;

- At first, he tried to rewrite some of his old books from memory but found it too hard and emotionally painful to remember, but he will sometimes write some self-made sad stories as a little treat for himself;

- Branch takes the longest out of them to take on a hobby, the forever self-sacrificing and self-hating troll he is. But when he does, he tries almost anything he can think of;

- He paints, sculpts, does leather-work, baking and more. He can't and won't be stopped;

- Clay helps, food-wise, mostly by gathering and trap-making (also gardening, once they make some good progress on the building of the burrow/hideout). Branch, when he gets older, does most of the hunting and fishing (Clay is slightly embarrassed, but learns to live with it);

- The burrow or the nest (how they call their version of the bunker) is less survivalist and mechanical than canon, due this Branch being less paranoid and not having access to more advanced resources (Troll village). But this version is also way more cozy and home-like, so it balances out lol;

- They try to explore and venture out on the hopes of finding their other brothers (especially Floyd and Bruce), but think that it's way too dangerous to go far away from the burrow (and they never go in the direction of Burgentown, which is in the middle of them and Vacay Island);

- After some really long years of healing and bounding, Branch slightly regains his colours and hums/softly sings with Clay, but only in the safety of their burrow;

- Clay also rarely sings, especially before Branch does it as well, and has muted colours himself (by the 20th anniversary of the escape , they are roughly the same amount of greyish blue/green);

- To finish this ask with some angst, they have came close to reuniting John Dody many times. But because they only see Rhonda, which to them is an unknown and unpredictable animal, they always turn around or go to another direction. Jd also has spotted them once or twice, but thinks they are hallucinations at first and later, dangerous wild trolls who he rather not mess with (since by then, they stopped looking like their younger-selfs). He rarely goes close to their area, so he never made the association of those specific "hallucinations" (he had a lot of real ones during that time period) and the mysterious wild trolls.

I love all of these! Here are some of my own.

-Their burrow would only be a couple of rooms because the two spend most of their time outside.

-There isn't much in the way of furniture in their burrow, like instead of beds it's just a nest of anything comfy they kind find.

-They practically hibernate during the winter, they stay inside the whole time and sleep a lot. When Branch was younger they went out a few times so he could experience a snow day but due to lack of supplies and the cold weather they don't do this very often.

-Clay is less feral than Branch because he's older and socialized and spent time with other trolls more.

-They communicate a lot using animal sounds, for safety reasons, but Clay does his best to help Branch learn to read, write, and practice talking.

#trolls fandom #dreamworks trolls #trolls branch #trolls clay #trolls feral #feral trolls #feral branch #feral clay #ask me anything

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Late Night Comfort

Summary - Part 6 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic)

Warnings - mentions of periods, nausea, smut, mild swearing

Word Count: 1806

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. This one gets a little emotional, I literally cried while writing it. And remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy! 

You wake up to an empty bed, and a spread of crackers, soup and an electrolyte drink on your nightstand. As you slowly try to fill your stomach your mind drifts back to when Dean was holding you and feeding you this same meal just days ago. You reach for your phone and call your caring, green-eyed fiancé to thank him for the meal; he answers on the second ring.

“Hey baby, where are you?”

“Just out … I thought I’d uh give you some space. But uh, make sure you eat and drink as much as you can. I’ll come back soon and pick you up and we can hit the road again,” he says before hanging up.

You really were pushing him away, you wonder just how long before he leaves you completely.

What if he asks me to move out of the bunker? Where would I go? I’d literally be barefoot, potentially pregnant and on the street with all the evil. At least if grief doesn’t kill me something else will. I wouldn’t suffer long. 

It’s not long before Dean walks in, interrupting the voice in your head. He notices you’ve barely touched the food or drink and almost slips onto the bed beside you, but he stops himself a few steps short.

“You ready to go?”

You look down at the food and drink in your lap hoping he’ll take the hint and come and hold you like the other day, but when he stays put you just nod and move it all back to the nightstand. 

“Where’s Sam?”

“Waiting in the car. Get dressed and you can meet us out there, and you’re riding shotgun so I can keep an eye on you. You can push me away all you want and I promise I’ll try to stop being so smothering, but you can’t ask me to stop worrying about you.” 

You look up just in time to see his red-rimmed eyes before he turns around and walks outside. Leaving you naked, nauseous and alone in the cold room. You quickly stand up and get dressed, grabbing the drink and crackers along with your bag before leaving. 

You curl up and lean against the window, cradling the drink and crackers in your lap as you let the classic rock music and steady purr of the engine wash over you for the next few hours. You keep your eyes fixed on the road ahead of you, not daring to look at your concerned fiancé. But you can feel him looking at you every so often, but he never makes a move to touch you. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s well after dark when Dean finally parks the car in the bunker’s garage. You’re slow to get out, stretching every one of your stiff, sore muscles as you do. You toss the empty packet and bottle in the bin as you pass, moving to your and Dean’s room. You almost stop a door short debating whether to sleep alone. But you can’t pass up the comfort of having the older hunter beside you, even if he refuses to cuddle. When he joins you in your room moments later the tension in the air is thick. You can tell there’s so much he wants to say but like you, he’s too scared to open his mouth.

You turn to grab one of his flannels and a clean pair of underwear from the drawers when he finally breaks the silence. “Please, just tell me where I went wrong?”

Your heart sinks at his words. Dropping the clothes you rush over to him with tears in your eyes, taking his hands in yours. “Nothing, nowhere, baby.”

“Really? Because you can barely look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. I had to all but beg you to touch me. I know I suck at the dating thing, and I’m obviously even worse at the fiancé thing. Just tell me what to do. Please … please just tell me how to fix it.”

Tears fall down both of your cheeks. “You can’t …” As the words leave your mouth he tries to pull away but you tighten your grip. “You can’t fix it because you didn’t break us … I did. I’ve been so scared of losing you that I didn’t realise how much I’ve actually been pushing you away.” You lead him towards the bed urging him to take a seat beside you. You turn to face him as he follows you, never letting his hands out of yours. 

Unsure how else to fix the rift growing between you, you breathe out, “I think I’m pregnant.”

Dean looks up at you but stays silent, giving you a chance to elaborate. 

“I’ve had this feeling for a while now, and then the morning sickness started, and the mood swings … and I am just so scared, Dean. I don’t know what to do. I’m not ready and I don’t want to trap you into something you don’t want …”

“Trap me?” He can’t stop himself from pulling you into his lap, his hands wiping away your tears as they continue to fall. “No, sweetheart, a baby would be a blessing, not a trap. Sure it’s sooner than expected but it’s on the path we planned to follow eventually anyway, right?”

“I don’t even know for sure. I mean, I haven’t tested or anything, it’s just a hunch.”

“Well, how about we do that first thing in the morning then? Once we know for sure, we can start moving forward accordingly.”

You nod and Dean picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. He sits you on the counter while he moves swiftly around the room running a bubble bath. Once the tub’s almost full he helps you strip before setting you down in the water. You watch as he strips himself and slots in behind you. You just sit there enjoying the warmth and comfort in silence for a while, until Dean breaks it quietly.

“How long have you known, or suspected?”

“A few weeks.”

“Before I proposed?”

You nod as you play with his fingers under the water.

“We talked for hours that night, we even talked about children and our future. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I … I guess I was just scared. I didn’t know for sure, I still don’t. And I was really enjoying the night and your company and I didn’t want to ruin it. In hindsight, if I did, you probably wouldn’t have proposed.”

“I disagree. I think I would have. It just would have given me even more reason to.”

“You would have done it for the wrong reasons. You would have done it out of duty.”

“I would have done it because I love you. The same reason I did do it.”

You turn around in the tub, straddling your fiancé’s sexy bow legs. You bring your lips to his as your hands roam his body from his head to his waist, his hands doing the same to you. You make out until the water starts to feel cold against your skin, and then Dean lifts you out and carries you back to bed, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your bodies barely separate as he lays you both down on the soft memory foam mattress. His lips start to explore your neck searching for your sweet spot as you grind your hips against him. When he sucks the skin right below your ear you let out a moan, causing him to suck harder and rut his hips against yours.

He whispers a groan by your ear, “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed this. You’re so perfect.”

He continues his journey down your body, leaving wet kisses along the way: over your chest, paying special attention to your tender breasts before moving down your stomach and hips, he skips over the place you want the most and trails down the inside of your thighs, calves and even your feet before moving back up to your throbbing core. He leaves a few tender kisses there before moving back to your lips. 

“I love every inch of your body, you’re so beautiful and perfect. And you taste amazing! I still can’t believe you’re mine,” he says as he reaches for the nightstand drawer blindly. You run your hand along his arm bringing it back to your body.

“I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that. I just want to feel all of you tonight, Dean. I need to feel you.”

He leans down and catches your lips in a deep kiss and he reaches down and lines himself up and smoothly enters you in one move. You let out a low moan against each other’s lips as he starts to move. You both know this won’t last long; it’s been too long. 

It’s not like anything you’ve ever shared before: it’s slow and tender and each movement is filled with all the love and devotion you feel for each other. You’ve never felt so in love or connected to the man above you. 

After a while, his movements start to stutter. “Come on, baby, I need you to cum with me.”

You let go at his words, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you as he rides you through it before joining you. You’re not used to the sensation of him exploding inside you like this, the only other time it’s ever happened you were too drunk to remember it, but you know you’ll never forget tonight. When his hips come to a stop he rolls you both over, laying you on his chest as you catch your breath. Feeling fully content you drift off to sleep in his arms.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You wake up naked in Dean’s arms. You glance up at his sleeping features as you reminisce on the passionate night you shared. And for the first time in years, you actually let yourself believe that everything is gonna be alright. No matter what curve balls life throws at you, you know you and Dean will catch them and ride them out together. 

After a while, you start to leave kisses along his chest causing him to stir. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says without opening his eyes. “Are you angling for a round two? Or are you gonna let me take you out for breakfast?”

“This feels like Deja Vu… except this time the answer is yes.”

“To which option?”

“Both?”

“That’s the perfect answer, let’s take a shower and then we can head out.”

“Perfect.”

Dean kisses the top of your head before tilting your face so your lips meet his. He lifts you swiftly, his lips barely leaving yours as he carries you into the shower, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

[batfamfucker]

Episode Three things I loved:

Bill and Frank. Obviously.

Old gays in general. Two gay men who get to grow old together and die together happily (As happy as you can be in the apocalypse).

Secret basement below the basement.

Bill's bunker. It's awesome.

Bill being Autistic for his entire screen time. Tell me that man isn't neurodivergent. I love him.

The fact Bill and Frank died together and it was lovely and they were happy instead of Bill finding Frank hanging like in the game. I'm glad they got to go together peacefully.

The gay coding with their words. 'A man who knows which wine to put with rabbit' 'I know I don't seem like the type' 'No, you do.' He read that motherfucker. 'Who's the girl' 'There is no girl' 'I know'

The piano scene. The fucking song throughout the ep. And the end as Joel and Ellie drive away. The open window. The message within the lyrics.

The cute little town.

Them bickering and being a married couple.

The meme-ability of Bill. 'The government ARE Nazis!' And 'You WHAT?' I need them as meme templates thanks.

Honestly that whole scene 'They ARE' 'They are NOW but they weren't THEN'

Bill's fucking Illuminati stuff. The hilarity of him staying alive because of his conspiracy theories.

Bill being a fucking badass tbh. The minute FEDRA leaves, just breaking into everywherr. Seeing him set up that town, having a full blown plan, setting up traps and building a goddamn generator, relaxing as he lets his traps take care of infected, just enjoying his steak and laughing. Knowing he does that a lot 'Gets me everytime'. Man's was made for this. He slayed tbh. That whole scene was so satisfying.

I was scared Frank was gonna use Bill, and he did at first, but then seeing him genuinely begin to love and care for him. Refusing to let Bill die when he got shot even though Bill told him Joel could care of him, wanting to marry Bill on his last day.

Honestly Frank just being sassy and dragging Bill lmao. 'We need friends babe. Sweetheart please you just sit in the basement all the time. You need a social life other than me, and for my own sanity, I need one too. So I've made a friend over the radio and you can't do anything about it. Now get me my paint'.

Tess being an AllyTM. Her and Frank being besties whilst their paranoid husbands scowl at each other.

Joel unable to say the word 'partner' for Bill and Frank lmao. You just adopted a lesbian. Honey, you've got a big storm coming.

I was hoping Ellie would get to meet Bill and he would tell her about Frank (Before going into the ep, based on the game) so she would have a nice little internal 'I'm not the only gay in the world thank god' moment. But I didn't mind since the whole episode was amazing.

The strawberry scene.

Bill apologising for getting older quicker but then it's Frank that needs the help later. My heart.

Frank and his paintings and beautiques.

Frank knowing Bill poured the pills into the wine bottle so he'd die too.

The marriage scene. Them exchanging rings. Having the same last meal and wine they had for their first meal together. Sitting next to each rather than across the table. A shot of the hole that Frank fell into, where they met. Sobbing. I love them.

They are the definition of 'In sickness and in health, till death do us part' and it hurt but it was some beautifully.

Knowing any Homophobic Gamer BoysTM were ripping their hair out at this episode.

It ripped my heart out but the fucking skeletons. The baby blanket and transition to seeing that baby and the mother. Knowing what happens. Hearing a mother comfort her kids and seeing a old lady and a whole community of families and knowing what happens to them.

All the fuck the government stuff. It feels like all the fucked up shit they did is so realistic and would happen.

The letter for Joel. 'Keep Tess safe'. And the symbolism of knowing there's at least one person (Ellie) worth saving. Worth living for. My heart.

Also, though. 'Hehehehe'

Ellie reading 'hehehehe'

The casualness of human bodies in the apocalypse. Periods actually referenced in an apocalypse show! Joel tossing Ellie some deodorant! Him being prepared to take care of a teenage daughger again! Ellie telling him he needs to shower (Also their banter). Ellie stocking her bag with toilet paper.

Joel making a small gravestone for Tess out of rocks from the river. That hurt.

Dad Joel coming out more and more each episode.

The forest scene. Joel giving his jacket to Ellie to sleep in so she wouldn't be cold. Him making sure she eats even if he doesn't.

Ellie roasting Joel. Joel roasting Ellie. 'Shit at shooting or life in general' Joel's continous 'offended but mostly confused I just got dragged by a 14 year old' face.

The arcade machine.

The repeat of the 'Anything bad?' 'Just you' joke.

Ellie being lowkey a psychopath again? The basement scene and her seeming to enjoy killing the infected dude.

Ellie being upset he stashes the massive gun. Because same.

The plane scene. Ellie's excitement all episode. Every question she asks. That's my Ellie.

Joel's dark humour. 'So did they'.

History Lesson With Joel.

Flour Zombies Confirmed. It's no longer Plants Vs Zombies, it's Plant Zombies.

The way he said the date of the outbreak, the subtle pain, and you can tell it's engraved because of that reason, as well as Sarah's death, and his birthday. I can't wait until Ellie finds out it was his birthday. And/Or about Sarah.

Contractor (?) Joel dragging Bill about his fences and using his KnowledgeTM to bait him into trading. Him being right.

Ellie's first time in a car. 'It's a spaceship'

'Women's shirts'. Joel really is thinking of her and it's nice to see he's used to taking care of a teenage girl and how he goes back into that role with ease. Him getting used to that again, even if begrudgingly at first.

Everytime Joel tells Ellie off. Dad Mode Joel Activated.

The fucking seat belt scene. Joel telling her to put her seatbelt on. The parallel of him saying that to Ellie like he did with Sarah. Him leaning over her and Ellie being completely comfortable with him doing so. Her not knowing what a seatbelt is.

Joel trying to get Ellie not to play music but then not letting her turn it off when he realises it's a song/artist he likes.

Joel warming up in the final shot when he likes the music. Ellie hating it. It's giving Dad Who Listens To Smooth Radio Whilst You Die Inside. I know because I've been there.

No school scene. Not introducing the bloater so soon. I'm glad we're building to that. Makes it seem much more impactful.

Basically the entire episode.

All I 'didn't like' (/Joking) was that they didn't hide literally everything in that house in the secret basement below the basement so raiders won't find anything when they come, so it'd still be there if they ever need to go back there. But that's just because I wouldn't be able to deal with it if that were me. I'd be making sure no one finds that shit. It's mine, and I'd go back for it when possible. Maybe. At some point. Hopefully. Or live there myself if I wasn't in Joel and Ellie's situation. I also wanna see Joel swinging upside-down from a chain at some point.

Joking aside, this episode is great. The show continues to not only meet my expectations, but exceed them. I can't take the fact that there's only nine episodes this season because I don't want it to end and I hope season two isn't about the second game, but for the show's later seasons to be about the years and adventures Joel and Ellie have together after the events of the first game, if season one meets the end of the first game. Because I love them and need more of this.

I'm so excited to see where this show goes. It has the perfect balance of sticking to the source material yet also doing new stuff that also surprises people who have played the game. I adore it.

#The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us Spoilers #TLOU #TLOU Spoilers #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #Ellie Miller #Blil and Frank #Tess #Pedro Pascal #Bella Ramsey #Nick Offerman #Murray Bartlett #Anna Trov #I think this took an hour lmao #Worth it tho

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 11 | Coming of Age

changing my major | @demonmary

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,335 Main Tags/Warnings: AU: College/University, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Sleepy Cuddles Summary: College is supposed to change you, sure. Castiel knew that going in, he expected the typical experience of finding new friends and going through a short period of self-discovery that might end with a tattoo he’d regret later. He absolutely did not expect to be… here.

intricate rituals | @sharkfish

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,049 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Pre-Slash, Dean Winchester Has Realizations, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers Summary: “You contrive situations that allow you to touch other men, precisely because you won’t admit that you want to touch other men.”

Drag Can Bee For Everyone | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: General Word Count: 2,629 Main Tags/Warnings: Nonbinary Cas, Queer Dean, Married Cas and Dean, Drag Performer Cas, Parents Cas and Dean, references to homophobia, references to gender dysphoria, Fluff Summary: As Dean helps set up for the all age drag show his partner will be part of, he reminisces on how lucky he feels to have them in his life

Wrong Room | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,611 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Strangers to Lovers, Sexuality Crisis, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Castiel, Implied Bottom Dean, Coming Out Summary: Since Dean is not the greatest fan of traveling for work he just wants to check into his hotel room for the night after a long day of driving and enjoy some peace and quiet. What he finds, however, is a naked man in his bed. It only spirals out of control from there.

Life Skills | @angelinthefire

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 26,052 Main Tags/Warnings: season 9, canon divergent, human!cas, F/M/M threesomes, light dom/sub, sub dean winchester, sub castiel, top castiel/bottom dean winchester, bottom castiel/top dean winchester Summary: After his grace is stolen Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

The Dream's the Thing (Wherein He’ll Catch the Subconscious of Our Dean) | @li-izumi

Rating: Mature Word Count: 30,073 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Season/Series 05 Canon Divergence, Cupid Marks, God Ships It, Dean in Denial, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Internalized Homophobia, Temporarily Female Castiel (Supernatural), References to Croatoan/Endverse, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is forced to confront his feelings Summary: Dean finds himself in a crowded ballroom with only the sense that he needs to choose someone. In between this and other strange visions, Dean remembers that the Apocalypse is over. Sam, Bobby, and Cas are alive but going their separate ways. Dean’s dying. But if his supernatural death flu is the price for the return of his family, why does Dean get better around Cas?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #coming of age #day 11

[ikilledmyocs]

THE WRITEBLR GARDEN'S ADVENT CALENDAR / day 1. holidays

for today's prompt i decided to go with the holidays in the unsuperverse! mostly the history ones bc i love unsuper history and also bc a lot of these happen during the story so i might as well talk about them once.

THE BURNING OF 2168 - AUGUST 15

referred to as the burnings, this was the four month period the selected destroyed the earth. the anniversary used to be a three month period in the bunkers where they mourned and celebrated the past. since it's been 580 years in unsuper, it's now just an annual day of resentfully remembering what has led their world to what it is.

BUNKER FREEDOM DAY - MAY 7

for 464 years the remnants of humanity were either ◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾ or underground. as soon as the world realized the selected was truly going to destroy the world, they immediately began evacuating as many as they could into whatever bunkers they knew of. whether or not they'd survive was a problem they'd have to face later. the survivors were made up of a majority of government, military, and of course- those who paid their way in and those who earned it. despite their struggles in the bunkers, one day in may 2632, the survivors of a bunker in france came out and discovered the world was not the same, but it was livable. their survivors began exploring the new ruined land, unsure if they'd be able to find other bunkers with the new formations and destruction. bunker freedom day is celebrated with parties, drinking, and feasts.

SAVIORS DAY - NOVEMBER 21

the first sector, central, was built promptly later in 2632 and was originally just a small city in the remnants of what they assumed was france. it would later be called ground france, after the floating city was formed a couple decades later. central was only possible thanks to the ideas of the saviors, a group of charismatic scientists, architects, and rich men, who discovered the earth was likely habitable. their group was the one responsible for humanity moving forward again. saviors day is celebrated with parades, parties, and the savior's ball in the governor's mansion.

THE END OF FLOOD SEASON - JUNE 20*

flood season begins in late march and ends in the middle of june. the end is an unofficial holiday where once the final storms have ended and the waves have passed, flood season is over. there is no real celebration except a collective sigh of relief as everything goes back to normal.

SECTOR COALITION DAY - FEBRUARY 1

each sector in union is made up of whatever countries were remaining in europe after the burnings. many of them did not want to join with france and the saviors at first, until they showed what they could do by building the first sector. the first three floors came the quickest, which is why they are currently the richest and most exclusive floors. the next two floors were a bit more difficult to get to join, so when they finally did they commemorated it with sector coalition day. every year since, each new sector in every city is celebrated.

FLOOD PLAGUE REMEMBRANCE DAY - JULY 27

at least four million people worldwide have died from the flood plague, which continues to be a problem in current unsuper. remembrance day is celebrated with mourning and visiting the tomb sector- a dedicated graveyard in each city. some bodies are kept elsewhere, but plague related deaths must either be brought to the tombs, burned, or thrown out of the city.

#writeblrgarden #twgcalendar #case: we are unsuper #evidence: wip #evidence: edit

[theminecraftbee]

Howdy, what's Demise and why do I keep hearing about it :?

I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS! demise was one of hermitcraft season 6’s many big events, and in many ways can be considered a precursor to third life. it was originally intended as a Halloween event if I remember right, but it lasted much longer. grian set it up as a game—you would pay a fee to play, and from that point on, it was your job not to die. whoever was the last person to die after signing up won and got all the diamonds. however, there was a twist—once you died you joined the dead team, and as a member of the dead team you were supposed to try to trap the living into dying.

lot of iconic things happened during demised. the grey skins started there, with demised players wearing grey as members of the dead team. ren was the first guy to be demised and his time as the fearsome grimdog, leader of the dead team, was something to be admired. dragon bros happened because they got dragon heads curse of binding’d onto themselves and couldn’t die to get rid of them. joe building bunkers all across the map and going completely off the grid but still streaming. alive!cleo. doc’s eventual downfall to grian in what is one of the single most brutal things grian ever did on the hermitcraft server, if not one of the most brutal things grian has ever done period. iskall’s victory, and iskall’s eventual later demise well after the game, auctioned off to grian and impulse who built him a rollercoaster.

demise was cool, is what I’m saying

#answered

[whetstonefires]

If Steve Rogers functions as the Superman of the bunch, the noble hero out of the past who inspires the others to greatness, what exactly is Bucky Barnes role, especially as Captain America himself?

I don't think that's a very meaningful analogy because like. The Justice League and the Avengers are very different teams, and despite their fairly similar ethics Clark and Steve are possibly even more different guys.

Captain America's is a solid general all-rounder, very mid-level in terms of actual power. Problems are frequently too big for him. Superman is stupid strong--every so often something shows up that's more powerful than he is, but he spends most of his life finessing his way through using as much force as he needs without overshooting and causing unacceptable collateral damage. He can move planets.

Psychologically, there's a vast gulf there.

The legacy of Krypton and the, the myth of America are roughly the same shape but are worn in completely opposite ways. No one on Earth knows or cares about Krypton except through Superman, and even he doesn't remember it--sometimes Kara does--so it's just pretty shapes and a deep solemnity.

America is messy and current and in-your-face, it was there before Steve and it'll probably outlive him and sometimes he gets so fed up with its foreign policy decisions or civil rights abuses he puts on a different outfit or goes and lives in a bunker.

'Superman' is a big idea that rests entirely on Kal-El as a person and as a force; 'Captain America' as a concept might be built on Steve and his supersoldier status but it's not dependent on him, they keep making a point of that.

Meanwhile they've made Jon Superman but struggle mightily with how to do that without just making him his dad. Of course they'd be struggling less if they'd let him grow up at a normal speed or were willing to lean into what a fucking bizarre person he ought to be after seven years in a cave with his dad's evil twin; basically Jon Kent doesn't have a character right now and they think he can hold up a title. But actually they know he can't that's why they brought Clark back. Superman is a disaster right now.

So anyway. In classic terms, Bucky was the counterpart of Jimmy Olsen. Then he died--I believe this was established in a retcon in the 60s when they brought Cap back, when Marvel was getting its feet under it as the grounded, realistic superhero comic company.

Then Bucky and Jason Todd both came back in 2005 which was kind of embarrassing for everyone imo. Just like. Did you have to do that at the same time you're making each other's cheap stunts look even more stuntlike.

Bucky's actually done better over the last 18 years than Jason tbh, rip--I mean in terms of interesting stories and development. Jason got his own book and all, he just also was subjected to terrible discontinuity of character and was primarily written by Scott Lobdell for like a decade. Terrible.

In terms of who he can be compared to relative to Superman when he's being Captain America, I. Uhhhhhh. No one in any useful way, I don't think. The obvious place to look is the Death of Superman/Reign of the Supermen period, but like.

Does Bucky have anything really in common with Cyborg Superman other than being a traumatized cyborg? No. Does he have anything in common with The Kid (later Kon-El)? You'd think there'd be something but there really isn't. Each point they have in common (i.e. dehumanizing lab background) they have diametrically opposed relationships to.

Steve's had duplicates and impersonators, I think the anti-commie guy he beat up that time is kind of like his Cyborg Superman equivalent? Except there's a whole political ideology thing going on there which is just not present with Superman. Anyway, not relevant to Bucky.

...you can I think draw some kind of relationship between Sam Wilson as Captain America and John Henry Irons as Steel, because on the writing end of things there's a definite flavor match, in terms of very deliberately creating a very cool black man and holding him up as an exemplar in a superhero story that otherwise has not got a lot of black people in major roles, and making him the best person to uphold the legacy of the Very Important Hero Guy. Like certain conventions are utilized the same in both instances. In certain ways that was two versions of the same story.

But also not really; Irons was very much pinch-hitting and what made him the best was that he was the one determined to do the work rather than claim the glamor; it's a lot more ceremonious and torch-passing with Wilson. A different deal. Although in some ways that's just because Marvel has hung onto and deliberately invested in the Falcon for decades.

DC Comics stop doing weird stuff with Clark's family and identity and reinvest in the supporting cast challenge. Where is Steel what's going on with him. Does he exist in this timeline.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #this is a weird question lmao #comics #are you the same person from the other day #i have the covid i have nothing better to do than ramble so good timing

[book-place]

You From the Future

Warnings: hunting, bad parents, violence, guns, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader platonic, Sam Winchester x reader platonic

Request: Hey friend! I legit go back and read the other request when I’m in need of fluff! And on my drive home from OBX! I love your writing style and If you don’t mind could I please request: Supernatural x Teen!Male!Reader. The reader is the son of a hunting family Bobbie used to recommend around to hunters as an extra set of hands. The Reader and his family are on a hunt with Sam and Dean looking for a Wendigo nest in northern Maine. While I’m the trip Dean sees a lot of himself in Reader, raised to be solider, calling his parents sir and ma’am, forcing away tears when he gets hurt- he sees a machine rather than a 17 year old. After the hunt is over Dean pulls Reader aside maybe gives him the phone number to one of their burner phones they keep for long periods of time and the address to the bunker, hoping one day he’ll show. A week later, the brother walk in and the Reader is here at the bunker hanging out with Kevin Tran, and like gives Dean a greatfull smile, looking less exhausted then Dean had ever seen him. Sorry if it’s long but I love your work ❤️❤️

Request by: @bringinsexybackk69

*not my gif*

Summary: When Dean looks at you, it’s like looking into a mirror of his past

A/N: Sorry this took so long, Bubba- hope you enjoy :) <3

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

As slowly as he could, Dean reached up to wipe his sweaty brow with the back of his sleeve, barely even daring to blink. The loaded flare gun was clutched in a deadlock in his hand; he and Sam had learned after last time that it worked better than the traditional killing method.

Beside him, the slight sound of scuffing let the man know that you were shifting your weight slightly, tense, but ready to fight at any given moment.

Behind you, Sam and your parents could be found in similar positions.

Every once and a while, the heavy footsteps of the wendigo bounced off the cave walls in a way that made it seem like they were coming from all directions, so it was impossible to tell when the creature would be appearing.

The anticipation of what was to come hung thickly in the room, practically suffocating everyone inside.

Though he didn’t have time to think about it, the man couldn’t help the thought from crossing his mind about how your parents were content having you hidden from their line of sight by Sam’s monstrous form, not even seemingly glancing over to check on you. He couldn’t help but have that remind him of…

Then, out of nowhere, a terrible roar was let out and the wendigo walked into everyone’s line of sight, drool rolling down its hideous face as its void eyes stared at all of you in hunger.

Everyone immediately sprang into action, shooting off into different directions and firing maniacally at the beast.

With shocking agility, it dodged all of them in a way that ones in the past hadn’t had when he and his brother had hunted them. This one was different. Smarter.

Panic immediately flooded into his system, doing everything in its power to suffocate him, but he pushed the feelings down- just as he always had- and put on a stone cold mask and began thinking of a way to overpower the beast instead.

He barely even registered the frantic looks on your parents' faces as they tightly gripped one another’s hands, backs to you without so much as a glance back to see how you were doing.

“Dean!” Sam called, motioning wildly with his hands to the large pile of rocks that were behind the wendigo.

The man understood immediately, and apparently you did too, because you rushed up beside him and took out your flare gun, aiming for behind the creature as the Winchester brothers did the same, firing round after round until the rocks came crashing down.

Too many of them came too fast, and the wendigo wasn’t able to stop them and protect itself before it was buried, tearing and breaking its flesh along the way.

Everyone let out a deep breath, shoulders sagging in relief that the creature was gone.

A groan emitted from the back of your throat as you gripped your shoulder. A lone stone had been thrown from the rubble and hit you on a weak spot, breaking skin and sticking into your arm.

The Winchesters' eyes widened and they were quick to try and rush to your side, only to have your parents interfere in the middle, seemingly oblivious to your pain.

Your father laughed, reaching out a hand to shake Sam’s, “That was very smart of you, Winchester.” He complimented with a grin.

Sam gave him a tight lipped smile as his nervous eyes flitted around the man, landing on your slightly hunched over finger as Deans did the same.

“Your son,” Dean pointed, trying to get around your mother.

She just stepped to the side and blocked his path, “Don’t mind him, Dean, he’s fine. Just being overly dramatic.” She wasn’t even trying to keep her voice down, “He thinks it’s the way to get attention.”

He became painfully aware of the way your muscles tensed before your back straightened at her words. Painfully aware of how the back of your hand was quick to fly up to your eyes and rub them slightly, ridding them of unshed tears.

“Are you okay?” Sam called to you over your fathers shoulder, who had also stopped the man from walking over any closer to you.

“He’s fine.” Your father repeated through gritted teeth, shooting you a quick glare before plastering a smile on his face when he caught Sam and Deans eyes.

“Come on!” Your mother cried with a large smile, “Let us buy you two a drink!”

The two men nodded, allowing the couple to go in front of them before waiting for you to catch up with.

“Are you okay?” Sam whispered, glancing down uneasily at your shoulder.

You nodded stiffly, “I’m fine, it’s only a small scratch.” The blood seeping through your clothes said otherwise, but they knew better than to push.

“Y/n.” Your father snapped.

“Coming, sir.” You hastily called back, avoiding your hunting partner's stares.

Because the two families had just met- Bobby had sent Sam and Dean on a hunt with your lot- the boys didn’t know how much they could say about the obvious and serious matter at hand.

The way you were acting was so familiar to Dean. The titles of respect, wiping away tears, the tough love that didn’t really feel like love at all. You were just like him, in the same situation he had been in with his own father.

You were a living, breathing copy of him from the past.

And that thought saddened and terrified the man at the same time.

-•-

After hitting a local bar with your family, you had all gone your separate ways, but not before Dean had pulled you aside and gave you a burner phone that had his number and the bunker address on it, making you promise to stop by if you ever needed a friend, or a place to stay.

It was a week later, and the man was opening the bunker door with a sigh, grocery bag in one hand and his keys in the other.

The soft sound of chatter and laughter filled his ears, causing his eyebrows to furrow as he drew closer to the balcony that looked out on the floor below him.

There, at one of the tables, sat Kevin Tran and you, sharing a bag of sweets from the kitchen and talking amongst yourselves happily.

Your eyes turned up at Dean, and he couldn’t help but suck in a breath. Around your right eye was a fresh black and blue shiner, but the smile on your face completely contradicted the wound.

It was a smile full of gratefulness and a promise of staring a new. You were finally free from your parents and you had Dean to thank for it.

“Hey, kid,” Dean called, softly smiling, “Welcome home.”

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #teen reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #spn #dean winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x reader platonic

[verbotenlove]

do you know why there are so seemingly few pictures of hitler from the 1940s, compared to the 1930s? it kinda makes me sad :( i've read somewhere that he banned pictures being taken on him from 1943 onward but i don't know if that's true

I think there are several different reasons, and I do have quite a few photos of A.H. in my personal collection from 1943-1945, but at that time the war had drastically shifted in favor of the Allies, and less and less propaganda was being distributed as there was less positive news to report to the German public. Same with Hitler’s radio addresses, they became few and far between. His health was rapidly failing due to the stress, he also developed symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease and he was taking bizarre concoctions of drugs including methamphetimines just to function. This aged him rapidly, although I personally think he still looked pretty darn good in the summer of ‘44. Here is a couple photos of him getting a situation report the day after the Normandy Invasion on 7 June 1944. Most of the photos I have from this time period are mostly of Hitler looking at maps during military debriefings, which were obviously top secret at the time, hence less photos. Plus I’m sure he became increasingly more paranoid after the 20 July 1944 assassination attempt at the Wolfsschanze, although there are a series of photos of him visiting with the wounded in hospital later that day. He also gave a radio address to assure the public he had survived the attack. There is a very famous set of the last photographs of him taken when he emerged from his bunker on his birthday on 20 April 1945 as well, but yes it’s very sad there are so few from these last years of his life.

#reichblr #austrian painter