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#SPN prompt
bobwess · 3 days
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Random SPN prompt 307-
They’re in the basement. Billie has them cornered. Dean knows they’re going to die, it’s his last chance to say it, so he does. He didn’t know about the deal until it was taking Cas and Billie and leaving him behind. “I love you.” He got Cas killed.
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nekoshi13 · 5 months
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Has anyone ever read or written a fanfic with honey Cas time traveling to meet younger Dean (Stanford era or s1, idc) and just try to take care of him as a way to fix his mistakes?
Bonus points if we see Cas actually heal from his psychotic break instead of magic him back to normal in purgatory
I have been having brain worms about this idea for months but haven't found anything
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I’ve been re-watching season four of Psych, and now I need a Bobby Singer/Reader western!au.
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starlite-png · 1 year
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Wait, fuck, hold on. Spn normal au where mary and john are both horrible spouses and parents, and their utter dysfunction and neglect culminates in a late teens Dean—at the end of his rope, making dinner on the stove, listening to his parents have yet another screaming match—finally snapping and leaving the kitchen, marching up to them and desperately screaming at them to just please shut up.
The stove, left unattended, starts a fire.
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smollestbean-2 · 1 year
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It's late but I did an SPn 30 challenge prompt: Maze.
I know it was possibly referencing corn but I decided this would work instead.
Kinda like the saying "getting lost in your eyes." or however it goes.
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transmascsam · 25 days
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Sam Winchester Appreciation Week 2024 ↳ Day Two: Favourite Sam Arc / Pre or Post Canon / Home / Liminality
thye're;b est friendss…
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spntoxicfemslashevent · 2 months
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Charlie's break in to Roman Enterprises but the security guard is a woman so she does flirt with her and has half her attention on hacking and half on having sex (earpiece turned OFF). Everything's going great until Clit Roman walks into her office unexpectedly. Helpfully, she seems pretty curious about this recreational sex thing so maybe a second distraction is in order....
CLIT ROMAN??????????????????????????????????
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thedramaticwriter1 · 3 months
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Stitch 'em up
(Dean x Reader)
Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.
Character count: 2.7k+
Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean
A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol
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You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour. 
“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.
“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala. 
“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.
“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.
“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone. 
Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door. 
If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds. 
You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now. 
His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see. 
Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.
“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation. 
The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up. 
“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side. 
“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. 
“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you. 
“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago. 
“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him. 
“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully. 
“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this. 
Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders. 
“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is. 
“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are. 
“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again. 
“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room. 
“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it. 
“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually. 
Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side. 
You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point. 
“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here. 
“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks. 
“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help. 
“No, you wouldn’t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side. 
“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.
“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern. 
Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips. 
From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.
“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes. 
“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off. 
“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already  begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here. 
One down. Four to go. 
“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.  
“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut. 
“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing. 
“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.
Two down. Three to go. 
That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds. 
Three down. Two to go. 
You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now. 
Four down. One to go. 
After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him. 
He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you. 
“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly. 
“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table. 
And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you. 
Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.
104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little. 
“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response. 
“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.
You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water. 
“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.  
Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down. 
“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes. 
“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. 
“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him. 
You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir. 
“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake. 
“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now. 
“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed. 
You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right. 
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thebiggerbear · 5 months
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Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
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Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.
A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)
Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader
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Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: mentions of implied sex
Word Count: 1449
Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Jenny version | Jason version | Tom version | CJ version | Rachel version | Anael version | SDV Leah version | Alec version
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Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage. 
Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.
You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.
“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”
Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.
“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.
“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.
Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”
Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”
You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”
After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”
You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”
He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”
You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”
He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”
You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.
Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”
You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.
“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”
Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”
“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.
You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.
Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”
Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.
“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.
“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.
You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled.
“Okay, then where are you taking me?”
His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”
“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”
“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”
“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”
Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”
He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.
“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.
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A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊
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szlez · 1 year
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Restless
drawn for @winchester-reload prompt
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wigglebox · 5 months
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Merry Christmas! 🎄✨💙💚
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jayjay-thejet-plane · 2 months
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Betrayal
[Soulless Sam watching as Dean gets turned into a vampire]
bonus funky colours below
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angel-hole · 8 months
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SUPTOBER DAY 01 - liminal in the beginning
4 And I looked, and, behold, a whirlwind came out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire infolding itself, and a brightness was about it, and out of the midst thereof as the colour of amber, out of the midst of the fire.
5 Also out of the midst thereof came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance;
— Ezekiel 1:4—5
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winchester-reload · 8 months
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Directions: Fill each prompt ON or After each day listed (the 1st-15th of October, then again on the 31st for our bonus day), then post it on your desired social media platform using tag #suptober23. Be sure to include which prompt you're fulfilling in each post. You can write, you can make art. You can do both! You decide. Rules: All posts must be Supernatural-themed. Like, comment, and reblog others' posts. No hate will be tolerated, including actor hate. NO AI. Do not throw a photo in a Photoshop filter and post it as art. Challenge yourself to create. Noncon, incest, and hate will not be reblogged.
To include your work in the Suptober 2023 archive, you must ALSO post it to the collection in Ao3!
In previous years, I've worked diligently to reblog each and every post listed in the tag to include in an archive on tumblr. However, more than a few things have changed in the past six years, including my earlier creeping bedtime. This year, I'd like to move the archive to Ao3 for something more inclusive. That means this year, it's up to you to get your work in there! Authors: be sure to use tags so your stories are searchable! * Artists: mind ao3's rules for images. You may choose to include a clickable link instead of the art itself.
Posting starts October 1st, 2023.
Special thank you to my friends over on Patreon for their help with this year's list! Truly without them, this would not be happening. Consider joining to help support more events like this! For a text copy of the prompts go here! Join the Discord
FAQ's
Why aren't there 31 prompts this year? Because I'm changing it up to something a little less overwhelming for you and me. Fill all the days, and if you're still hungry for more, send me a message and let me know it wasn't enough so I can take that into account for next year!
I posted my work and you haven't reblogged it. What did I do wrong? Probably nothing. I may have just missed it, which will happen. The good news is, it's up to you to include your work in an archive this year, so be sure to do that! Also be sure to tag it correctly using #suptober23, and the day you're fulfilling.
I'm really busy in October, can I post it later? Yes! The collection won't close.
I can't write or draw, is there another way I can participate? Yes, you can support all the creators by liking, commenting, and reblogging their work. It's just as important as the things being posted. Also, I bet you'll soon realize you absolute can make art and write too! There's no skill level required to have fun.
How long do the stories need to be? There's no word length just be sure to make a good effort, and challenge yourself.
Can I include multiple days in one fic? Sure, but don't post early, and be sure to tag for each day both here on tumblr (if you're posting to tumblr) and on Ao3. In the past, people have used each prompt as a new chapter, and that works great for a cohesive project!
Can I repost the prompt list with my posts? Yep. Go ham. Use at will.
More questions for me? Send me an ask!
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rainsongdean · 2 months
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JOANNA BETH "JO" HARVELLE | 7 APRIL 1985
spn collage series - 12/?
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bobwess · 17 days
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Random SPN Prompt 306
Cas raised him out of Hell, he dragged Cas out of the Empty. It was transactional; They were even. It had to be. He couldn't let it mean anything more.
[ full list ]
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