#Stanford Warren

[bitethehandthatneedsme]

pictures that are always on my mind <3

#theyve got their arms around each other theyre all smiling theyre bffs!!!!! i love them #stanford era #sam winchester #rebecca warren #zach warren #is that how u spell his name

[psychixsam]

in s1e6 skins when sam sees his bestie becky and he’s like ‘it’s little becky 😉’ and a she’s like ‘you can cut it with that crap 🙄😌’ they are giving sibling behaviour. crying about sam and his stanford friends today.

#jack’s post #au but it’s sam and his stanford friends and it’s fine. it’s FINE #listen i am a supernatural fan so i love Pain but i am having tender Thoughts rn #sam winchester #becky warren #s01 #classic spn #sam & stanford friends

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you. 

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by. 

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John. 

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” 

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered. 

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.” 

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked. 

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—” 

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl. 

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry. 

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in. 

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged. 

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway. 

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked. 

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her. 

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled. 

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation. 

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically. 

He just looked away, defeated. 

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room. 

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?” 

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover. 

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen. 

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets. 

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly. 

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.” 

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked. 

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered. 

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you. 

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him. 

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off. 

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded. 

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up. 

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him. 

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post. 

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean. 

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face. 

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?” 

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head. 

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see. 

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists. 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” 

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed. 

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck. 

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little. 

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out. 

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously. 

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway. 

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.” 

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered. 

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in. 

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road. 

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too. 

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it. 

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke. 

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips. 

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit. 

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts. 

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her. 

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead. 

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him. 

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” 

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes. 

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” 

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror. 

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

[mapsontheweb]

The Byzantine Empire and its provinces (themes) at the death of Basil II in 1025

source: Wiki, Creative Commons Sources: Haldon, John: Warfare, State And Society In The Byzantine World 565-1204 (Routledge 1999) ISBN 1-85728-494-1, Maps IV (pp. 76-77) and VIII (pp. 82-83); Kazhdan, Alexander (Ed.): Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium (OUP 1991) ISBN 978-0-19-504652-6, pp. 354, 2034-2035; Holmes, Catherine: Basil II and the Governance of Empire (976-1025) (OUP 2005) ISBN 978-0-19-927968-5, Maps in pp. 305, 397, 431; Shepherd, William R.: Europe and the Byzantine Empire, AD 1000; Treadgold, Warren: Byzantium and Its Army 284-1081 (Stanford University Press 1995) ISBN 0-8047-3163-2, Map 5 in p. 38

by Porodicnostablo

#maps #Porodicnostablo #rdsourced #byzantine empire #1025

[soberscientistlife]

Mechanics and Farmers Bank was born from a need for opportunity. At the turn of the 20th century, African Americans were navigating tremendous obstacles in the fight to participate in the economy. For African Americans, there were few opportunities to obtain financing for their business ventures or homes. There were equally few options to safely place money on deposit and earn interest with established banking institutions, so, the black community created their own.

M&F, a state-chartered commercial bank, was organized in 1907 under the authority of a charter issued by the Legislature of the State of North Carolina. The founders had a dream for their community. The nine businessmen — the pioneers — who became the original incorporators of the bank were successful and active community builders, and by the time M&F was chartered most of them had been involved in the establishment of numerous other institutions and organizations that formed the nucleus of a thriving business and residential district in Durham, anchored by what became known as Black Wall Street. These men were R. B. Fitzgerald, J. A. Dodson, J. R. Hawkins, John Merrick, Aaron M. Moore, W.G. Pearson, James E. Shepard, G. W. Stephens, and Stanford L. Warren.

[argent-vermeile]

Sweets || Multifandom

You bring them sweets and they react to it Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel, Gravity Falls, Life is Strange, Atomic Heart, Doki Doki Literature Club “Would you kindly put them on the table? Thank you for bringing these sweets, darling.” Is most grateful and shows it, giving you something in return later.

Alastor, Charlie, Stanford Pines, Max Caulfield, Kate Marsh, Dmitry Sechenov, Zinaida Muravyova, Monika b4 act 2

“Why are you late? Hm, bought me sweets? Well, I forgive you but don’t expect me to go all out for just a bunch of sweets” Is confused by your gift but tries to hide it and use mentioned sweets to hit on you.

Niffty, Bill Cipher, Stanley Pines, Victoria Chase, Chariton Zakharov, Viktor Petrov

“Damn, these smell nice! Those for me, for real? Thanks a lot! Lemme have a taste!” Munches on them immediately and forgets about you for some time. However, later they’ll make it up to you. 

Angel Dust, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines, Soos, Wendy, Warren Graham, Sayori “Sorry, hon’, I don’t like sweets... But I can brew some tea and have a nice chat with you while you enjoy them.” Is deeply touched by your attempts to cater to their needs and tries to make things work.

Vaggie, Gideon Gleeful, Joyce Price, Larisa Filatova, Yuri “Sweets? Are you, like, five? W-What? For me? Well, can’t let them go to waste... You bought them, have a share.” Acts like an absolute tsundere and is not ashamed by it. Probably would shove some ‘damn sweets’ in your face later.

Husk, Pacifica Northwest, Robbie Valentino, Chloe Price, Michael Stockhausen, Natsuki

“Ahem... I can’t eat anything, even these, but you should before they deteriorate. By the way, what sweets are your favorite?” Biologically, they aren’t able to eat but they feel special, being treated like an equal. Probably would try to reciprocate.

Vox, Giffany, Rumble McSkirmish, CHAR-les spoilers go away, Tereshkova, Monika spoilers go away x2 written by @argent-vermeile

#multifandom #hazbin hotel #gravity falls #life is strange #atomic heart #doki doki literature club #ddlc #hazbin hotel headcanons #gravity falls headcanons #life is strange headcanons #atomic heart headcanons #ddlc headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #gravity falls x reader #life is strange x reader #atomic heart x reader #ddlc x reader

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: The boys and reader come to the aid of Sam's old college buddy after he is accused of a murder he swears he didn't commit. They discover a shapeshifter is adopting the likenesses of others and murdering people.

Warnings: cannon violence, not my GIF, shapeshifters, teasing, tension 🤭, choking, kidnapping, mentions and usage of guns, being tied up, murder

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose, @ada--44

Word Count: roughly 8,000

(Not my GIF but we can still appreciate it)

Skin

(Master list, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

The Impala comes to a stop in front of a gas pump, the slightly warmer breeze of late February brushing through the car as Dean opens his door, half sitting out the door.

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean announces. I hum in agreement with a little nod of my head, Dean looks back at me in acknowledgment and then at Sam, who has given no response or recognition.

He rolls his eyes, “Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy.” Sam shrugs his brother off, looking down at his PalmPilot.

“Busy doin’ what?” Dean shoots back.

“Reading e-mails.” Sam says simply, not even bothering to look up. Dean gets out of the car and rounds it, beginning to fill the tank with gas, ���E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford” Sam replies.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scuffs.

“Hey I don’t see anything wrong with that” I chime in truthfully.

“Well, what exactly does he tell ‘em?” Dean switches his gaze to Sam now, “You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“Thank you Y/N.” Sam begins with before actually answering Dean's questions, “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother and best friend. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.” Den acknowledges.

“That’s not technically lying, he's just not giving all the details” I point out.

“Yeah, that’s still called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.” Dean responds.

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?” Sam asks, Dean shrugs, “You’re serious?” he adds.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean states.

“Okay well, what about Y/N? We’ve known her for a long time but she’s not blood related, and I'd say you’re pretty close to her.” Sam brings up smiling to himself as if he knows he won, before quickly adding, “No offense Y/N.”

“Non taken” I answer, curious to hear Dean's response.

Dean goes quiet, just staring at his younger brother with big eyes and a tight jaw as if to tell him to stop. Finally he answers, mumbling, “That’s different.”

Without missing a beat Sam immediately follows up with, “How so?”

This time Dean really doesn't answer, just kind of looks awkwardly around. Realizing he won’t get an answer Sam adds, “Exactly.”

Dean rolls his eyes, half turning away to check how much longer he has to be there for.

Suddenly Sam speaks up again, except this time without his cocky smile and sassy attitude, “God….”

Dean turns back ‘round quickly, “What?”

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.” Sam begins.

“Is she hot?” Dean cuts in, getting a look from both Sam and I before going back to the real situation at hand.

Sam ignores him, continuing his explanation, “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” Dean exclaims, putting the pump back in its place and closing the tank he rounds the car again.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam assures as his brother gets back in the car.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean offers.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.” Sam orders.

Dean chuckles, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.” Sam shoots back.

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean says, looking through the rear view mirror. He meets my eyes and I give him a pleading, knowing look. He sighs as he pulls out of the gas station, he makes a U-turn now driving back the way we came.

“Oh my God, Sam!” Rebecca greets happily, the long haired blonde smiling brightly.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam jokes bending down slightly with his arms open for a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

It’s odd but endearing to see Sam like this, being able to have a peek into what his life was like when he was away at college. When he was happy, things were a little bit simpler.

They break away and Sam turns serious, “I got your e-mail.” Her smile falters, “I didn’t think that you would come here.”

Dean steps forward and extends his hand, “Dean. Older brother.” She shakes his hand looking at him with a hint of confusion, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean says back with his cocky smile.

Her eyes wander over to me, as if signaling it’s my turn to introduce myself with a little wave, “Hi! I’m Y/N a, uh, good friend of these two.”

“Nice to meet you” She smiles back.

Sam, rightfully, cuts in, “We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.”

“Come in.” She steps aside leading us further into the house, Dean being the one to close the door.

“Nice place.” Dean compliments looking around the cozy well loved home.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.” She explains, as we follow her through the house.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asks.

“They lived in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.” She answers as we enter the kitchen, “ Do you guys want a beer or something?”

Dean smiles, “Hey—“

“No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.” Sam cuts him off, definitely for the better. This isn’t the time nor the place for drinks.

She leans against the island as she begins, “Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Her voice gets all crackly, tears freely flowing, “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam offers.

“We could.” Dean adds

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam clarifies, nudging his brother.

Dean laughs, “Detective, actually.”

“Really? Where?” Rebecca gushes.

Easily Dean shrugs, “Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” It always amazes me how easily these two lie, well mostly on Sam’s part.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know” She stammers

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam explains, eyebrows scrunched together in seriousness.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She leaves us alone in the kitchen, walking down the hall to get those keys.

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.” Dean comments, lightly shoving his brother.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help” Sam pleads.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugs.

“Oh come on Dean, it's the right thing to do.” I add, joining the pleading party. “Yeah and two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam points out. Dean sighs but remains silent in defeat, he won’t win this one especially when it’s the both of us pleading with him. He didn’t stand a chance.

The Impala pulls up across the street from Zack’s house, the white building in contrast with the yellow crime scene tape plastered on its outside.

We get out of the car, Rebecca having rode with me in the backseat, “You’re sure this is okay?” She asks Dean. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” Dean says all nonchalant as he leads us to the house.

Opening the door to this taped off house revealed a mess of blood. There was blood smeared on the walls and the furniture, a table cluttered with fruit, playing cards and newspapers as if a life was interrupted. And it was. One life physically gone and never coming back and another life, who is potentially innocent, sits rotting away in a jail cell. Rebecca remains strigid just outside the constraints of the police tape. Sam turns back to her, “Bec, you wanna wait outside?”

“No. I wanna help.” With tears in her eyes she ducks underneath the tape.

Dean and I walk slowly around the house, observing the messy crime scene. And although neither of us are actual police officers or forensic scientists it doesn't take a genius to figure out there was a struggle, based on the upturned furniture and the blood splatter alone.

Meanwhile Sam stays with his friend,“Tell us what else the police said.”

“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looks around the room and begins to cry, “Oh, God…”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?” Sam asks her, over the loud noise of a dog barking nearby.

She shakes her head, “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Sam walks away from her with a nod. I then walk over to the half open front door, looking at the neighbors dog who hadn’t stopped barking the entire time we’ve been here.

I feel her come up behind me, “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“Oh, what happened to him?” I ask her, still looking at the black dog who bared its teeth as it barked relentlessly. If she hadn’t said anything I would think this dog was always aggressive, mean even.

“He just changed” She replies, half shrugging.

“Do you know when that change occurred?” I half turn to her.

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

I nod in confirmation, making a mental note, walking away towards the boys, a comforting hand on Rebecca’s shoulder.

The brothers stand in the hallway looking at a framed photograph of Sam, Zack, and Rebecca all together, talking over something I couldn’t quite catch. It’s bittersweet to think that even after Sam left for his “road trip” that his friends hadn’t forgotten him, had even kept up a photo of them all together.

“Apparently the neighbors dog suddenly became all aggressive around the time of Zack’s girlfriend's murder.” I retell the information I just gained. “Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam adds.

“I was thinking the same thing” I nod along.

Sam turns to his brother, “So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.” Dean answers simply.

“Yeah.” Sam says

“Yeah.” Dean says back just as Rebecca walks over to us, “So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of a cop.” She answers, causing Dean to laugh (a little uncomfortably), “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

“All right.” Dean says with the slightest hint of a smirk, leading us out just as he led us in.

After seeing the crime scene, Rebecca’s home stood as a total contrast. The clean cozy vibe of the home being completely absent of blood and the act of murder.

“Here he comes.” Rebecca turns her laptop towards us, pointing to the tape of Zack entering his house.

“22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.” Dean points out.

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.” She explains.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam cuts in, and if I hadn’t known him. Hadn’t known it was probably because he’d seen something he couldn’t exactly say with her around then I’d say it was a jerkish move.

“Oh, sure.” She gets up from the couch.

“Hey.” He calls out, forcing her to turn around, “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She replies back as she leaves the room. If I hadn’t known if I liked her before this I definitely do now.

“I wish.” Dean muttered in a hushed tone. I lightly smack the back of his head in warning. His head snapped towards me, and his eyes widened with confusion. “Don’t give me that look; you know what that was for!” I whispered, my words sharp as I poked his chest. He seized my wrist, his grip tight enough to send a shiver down my spine. The room seemed to grow smaller as my mouth fell slightly agape, and I gazed up at him through my eyelashes. He peered down at me, his green eyes seemingly a couple shades darker, a cocky smile on his face.

"Guys!" Sam whisper-shouted, and the small moment between Dean and me shattered like fragile glass. Dean quickly dropped my wrist, the cocky smile vanishing as he was caught in the act. My head reluctantly turned towards the taller man, although all I wanted was to keep my eyes on Dean, to feel his attention solely on me, but now it was all disrupted.

"Check this out," Sam rewinds the tape, seemingly unfazed by what he just witnessed. I clear my throat, attempting to dispel the lingering, fuzzy feeling that Dean's touch had stirred within me. This wasn't the time or place for distractions. Shifting my focus back to the reality of the hunt at hand, I watch as Sam rewinds the tape once more. In one of the frames, Zack stares directly at the camera, his eyes an eerie shade of silver, far from anything normal. Sam pauses the tape once again.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare.” Dean shrugs, skepticism lingering in his voice.

“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam informs.

“Right.” Dean says, unamused.

“No! Sam’s right! The belief has deep rooted ties to certain Native American cultures, it stems from the idea that a photograph freezes a moment in time and can capture a person’s spirit or energy at that moment.” I explained with a beaming smile, happy to share the fact.

“Do I even want to know why you know that?” Dean asks me to which I just shrugged, “I love fun facts.”

“Anyway” Sam continued, “Remember that dog that was freakin’ out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger.” Dean concluded.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam finished.

As dawn broke, the persistent nudge of the boys broke me from my slumber, rousing me from a deep, cozy dream. With a groggy sigh, I realized it was just 5 a.m., way too early for me. Regret gnawed at my bones as I recalled having given them the spare key to my motel room for precisely these sort of moments.

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and slipped into the comforting embrace of leggings, a sports bra, and a thick zip up sweater to fend off the early morning chill. As we piled into the car and set out for Zack's home once more, the chill weather and the steady movement of the car nearly brought me back to the darkness of sleep.

The car was now parked discreetly behind the house, and we stepped out, greeted by the morning's biting cold that nipped at our cheeks. "Alright, so why are we here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean inquired, as he nursed a cup of coffee. "Mmm, yeah, it's way too early for all of this," I mumbled groggily in agreement.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out," Sam explained, gesturing toward the house behind him. "So, he came out the back door?" Dean pointed out, leaning against the hood of his car, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam clarified, walking up to a large red garbage can. "Because they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don't know why we're here at 5:30 in the morning," Dean grumbled, taking another sip from his coffee.

Sam walked away to scour the area only to stop near a telephone pole, noting, "Blood. Somebody came this way." Dean and I exchanged a perplexed look before joining Sam near the smeared blood. "The trail just ends...?" I inquired, glancing around to confirm what we were all seeing.

Suddenly the loud blaring of an ambulance sped past us, the red, white, and blue lights illuminating on the houses it passed. Once again, we exchanged a glance that balanced on the edge of caution and curiosity. With that unspoken understanding, we swiftly returned to the car and pursued the blaring ambulance.

Upon our arrival, a slightly older Asian man was being forcibly guided into a police car, his wrists cuffed tightly. Exiting the vehicle, we approached a woman nearby, clad in running wear. I asked her softly, "What happened?"

"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," the woman explained, causing my eyes to widen and my eyebrows to shoot up in shock.

"Really?" Sam inquired.

"I used to see him heading to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," the woman sighed, her gaze fixed on the man being taken away.

Moments later we had split up, Sam and I together to semi-explore the crime scene, meaning the surrounding area since the police and a sizable forensic team were diligently at work. We were on the side of the house, scouring for any clues. Oddly enough, Sam sifted through garbage cans only to come up empty-handed. All we discovered was another trail of blood that suddenly terminated. We rounded to the front of the house.

"Hey," Dean called out, causing us to turn around. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Definitely our kind of problem," Dean nodded, sort of throwing his arm into it for emphasis.

"What caused the change of heart?" I inquired, stuffing my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill.

"Well, I just spoke to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked," Dean elaborated, nodding towards a burly police officer standing nearby.

"So, he was in two places at once," Sam stated rather than asked.

"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; the police think he's a nutjob," Dean shot back without missing a beat.

"Two evil doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way, how sweet," I remarked sarcastically.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean suggested. Sam looked up in thought, "Shapeshifter? Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

"Well, you know, every culture all over the world has shapeshifter lore. All sorts of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or the other way around or even into other men, like skinwalkers, werewolves, nanaue, etcetera," I reminded.

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood," Dean added.

"Let me ask you this Y/N—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked me.

"Uh…no?" I answered.

He turned to Dean, leading the way, "Well then we picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house," Dean confirmed.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared," Sam explained as we followed the trail of blood all the way to an empty street at the back of the house.

"Well, there's another way to go—down," Dean replied. The three of us peered down at a manhole.

"How lovely," I mumbled, not particularly thrilled about having to go into the sewers.

Sam lifts the grate up, allowing Dean to go in first with a smile with me following next down. Surprisingly the ladder wasn’t sticky and full of muck like I thought it’d be, but still it was gross to be down here and I don’t think two showers would be enough after this.

The tunnels were dark and leaky, a constant dripping sound coming from somewhere. “I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam says, looking around.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” Dean answers bending down in front of a glossy slimy pile of blood and skin. He takes out his pocket knife, pulling some of the skin up the slime of it glistening in the dim lights. I had to stop myself from gagging.

“Is this from his victims?” Sam inquires, a scrunched look of disgust on his face.

“You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.” Dean pointed out, letting the goop of the skin fall back to the floor.

“Why would you say that?” I cringe, my question more rhetorical than anything.

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, taking out some bullets and entering them into the slots of the gun. “Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.” Sam smiles, dimples on display.

“That’s right.” And as if on cue Sam’s phone rings.

“This is Sam.” He answers walking to the front of the car, remaining just in hearing range. And just as much as I hate to admit it, Dean and I stayed quiet to eavesdrop.

“We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.

…

What are you talkin’ about?

…

Why would you do that?

…

Bec—

…

We’re tryin’ to help.

….

Bec, I’m sorry, but—“ His hand drops to his side, sighing as he looks down,

Dean walks over to his brother with a half frown, “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” He pauses before continuing, “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked.” Again he pauses, “It’s just—it’d be easier if—“

“If I was like you.” Sam finished his sentence.

Dean breathes out looking around, “Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people.” He pauses for a third time, “But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He holds up a gun at hip level, Sam takes it with a sigh and begins tucking it into the back of his jeans. He begins to walk away leaving Dean and I behind.

Dean walks back over to me by the open trunk, he leans against the car as I hand him a flashlight. “What’s with that pout?” He asks me, tilting his head down to catch my eyes.

“I’m not pouting” I smile, nearly laughing. “I happen to know you quite well, you were definitely pouting sweetheart.” He smiles now too, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I closed the trunk, Dean taking another flashlight from me so I could tuck a small gun into the side of my leggings as I balanced my own flashlight. “I’m thinking that…this job is destructive” I look up at Dean who waits for me to continue, “Seeing Sammy with Rebecca and how happy he was just seeing a friend from college, or that photo with the three of them all together. It was bittersweet to see that really, knowing that he was and can be happy without all this” I motion to the flashlights and the guns neatly tucked away.

“I know” he sighs, “lasting relationships ain’t exactly part of the job description” he smiles sadly and I know he didn’t really know what to say to me.

I gave him a slow nod, giving his upper arm a squeeze as I walked past him, “We should go before Sam starts bugging us for taking so long.”

With guns and flashlights drawn, we cautiously treaded through the sewer, a squishy, unpleasant noise underfoot with each step. I’d definitely need to burn my shoes and clothes after this ordeal.

The sewer resembled a labyrinth, an intricate network of pipes and tunnels twisting and turning in every direction. Drips of who-knows-what fell from the ceiling. Despite our careful steps to avoid the puddles on the ground, I still felt utterly disgusted. There was not enough showering in the world to cleanse me of this event.

With Sam leading the way, his gun extended ahead of him, Dean broke the silence, "I think we're close to its lair."

"Why do you say that?" Sam murmured without turning back to acknowledge his brother. "Because there's another nauseating pile next to your face," Dean retorted, using his flashlight to reveal a slimy heap of skin clinging to a pipe. Sam leaped back, repulsed. "Oh, God!" He glanced down at his shoulder, which had been perilously close to the pile.

I moved my flashlight just past Sam, revealing a pile of discarded clothes. "I think it's lived here for a while."

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with," Sam added, turning to face us. "Dean!" He suddenly shouted. Both of us spun around to see the shapeshifter, still in its last victim's form, right behind us. The shapeshifter struck Dean, sending him crashing to the sewer floor, then sprinted away. Sam fired twice, the bullets whizzing just above my head. He missed.

I bent down to assist Dean, who clutched his left shoulder, grimacing. "Get that son of a bitch!" He grunted and nodded as Sam took off, leaning against the wall. Dean gestured for me to follow his brother.

Running in a sewer was just as challenging as walking, with overhead pipes requiring us to duck to avoid collision.

Sam reached a ladder and began ascending it, lifting himself up and out. I followed, feeling the cold night air surrounding me as I emerged. We stood in a park, a distance from where we had entered, scanning the surroundings. Dean struggled out of the manhole, still holding his shoulder.

"All right, let's split up," Sam suggested, concealing his gun within his jacket, out of sight from the passersby in the park. The fact that they hadn't noticed us emerging from a manhole was beyond me, but I didn't question it when it worked in our favor.

“All right, I’ll meet you guys around the other side.” Dean agreed.

“Copy” I answered in confirmation, I twirled to the left as Sam headed right, and Dean proceeded straight. Despite the cold air, I unzipped my thick sweater to conceal my gun while ensuring I could still draw it swiftly. Even though I was comfy I began to regret just wearing a sports bra beneath my sweater, my stomach and above my breasts open to the frigid air.

I walked cautiously, weaving through crowds, scanning both people and the shops that remained open. Yet, street after street, there was no sign of our quarry. No more than five to ten minutes passed before I spotted Sam standing by a crosswalk. I tucked my gun into my leggings, finally able to zip up my sweater. He must have caught sight of me approaching from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing?" he asked, even though he likely knew the answer. I nodded in confirmation.

"Hey," Dean's voice called out from behind us, prompting us to turn toward him. "Anything?" he inquired, arms outstretched. "No. He's gone," Sam replied as his brother approached.

"Alright, let's get back to the car," Dean ordered, and we complied, turning to cross the street.

“You think he found another way underground?” Sam asks, stopping at the side of the Impala.

“Yeah, probably. You got the keys?” Dean retorts.

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” Sam turns around facing Dean.

“Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

“Oh, right. Here ya go.” He throws Dean the keys who catches it with his…left hand, he opens the trunk of the car. Sam walks off towards the front of the car but I hang back, maybe I'm overthinking it but this isn’t something that I can just let slip by.

“Hey, Dean” I call out my gun trained carefully on his back, “Yeah sweetheart” He answers turning around. I fight the urge to cringe hearing the usual endearing pet name curl off the lips of someone who wasn’t Dean, even more so a being who looked like him.

Sam sees my movements and swiftly moves to the right side of his brother, “Y/N! What are you doing”

“Yeah, chill. It’s me, all right?” ‘Dean shoots back his arms raised in defense.

“Sammy, he caught the keys with his left hand” I explained through gritted teeth. In my peripheral vision I see Sam’s eyes widen in realization, he mumbles, “Your shoulder was hurt.” His hand moved to the back of his waistband, searching for his gun. But before he could reach it, the shapeshifter swung a crowbar from the trunk, striking Sam down. My gun went off twice, the first bullet missing entirely, allowing the shapeshifter to hit Sam once more.

The second bullet nearly finding its mark, grazing his shoulder. He turned his head slowly toward me, glaring up at me through his lashes. A bullet grazing his shoulder didn't seem to slow him down. He stalked toward me, like a predator closing in on its prey. But before I could pull the trigger for a third time, he used the same crowbar to knock the gun out of my hand. The sharp metal sent the weapon tumbling, 'Dean' kicking it behind him, it sliding beneath the car.

He grinned at me, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and determination. As he swung his arm back, ready to strike me with the crowbar, I grabbed hold of it, both hands clenching the cold metal. He was undeniably stronger than me, so I braced my feet even harder against the ground, bending my knees for added leverage and pushing up against the weapon.

His feet swept under me, sending me crashing hard to the ground, my back absorbing the brunt of the impact. I grunted, pushing myself up on my elbows, preparing to rise. But he quickly knelt over me, a knee on each side of my hips. 'Dean's' large, veiny hand closed around my throat, gripping it tightly. I used my hands to try and push him off, but it was futile. With his free hand, he seized my wrists, pinning them to my chest. My head lolled back against the concrete street.

My chest began to burn with the desperate need for air, and tears welled up in my eyes from the pain. Black spots started to invade my vision as I gazed up at 'Dean' through half lidded eyes. “Come on, baby," he growled, his voice raspy as his grip tightened even further. It was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

In and out, voices sang in a disjointed melody. Dim lights blurred behind my closed eyes. Fragments of Sam's voice pierced through the darkness, the words struggling to piece together. "Where...he...?...Dean?"

I blinked slowly, my head swaying to the side and then back. With a deep breath, my eyes snapped open. We were in the sewer.

Sam sat directly across from me, tightly bound to a pole, a rope encircling his neck. Strangely, it wasn't a rope that constricted my neck but something cold. I lurched my shoulders forward, feeling the restrictive, itchy rope around my ankles, wrists bound behind my back, and right beneath my breasts. It was then that I noticed my sweatshirt was missing.

"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you," 'Dean' told Sam, seemingly unaware that I was also awake.

I attempted to move my bound hands, intending to use my magic to free myself from the ropes, but nothing happened. I couldn't sense my magic at all. Panic began to well up within me. I kicked my feet out in frustration, though beneath the surface, I was terrified. I couldn't feel my magic.

'Dean's' head snapped toward me, his gaze drawn to my soft whimpers of fear. "Are you wondering why you can't just...poof out of there?" I didn't answer. He crouched down in front of me, tapping the cold, constricting object around my neck, the sharp clicking of his nails against metal audible. "Iron," he whispered. He firmly grasped my chin, moving my face as though to savor what he'd done, offering me no chance to evade his touch. "From what I've learned from you guys, this has never happened to you," he murmured. He was right; while I was aware of what could inhibit a witch's powers, it had never been used against me

"Fuck you," I spat out, the curse word feeling alien on my tongue. I wasn't one to curse often.

"Oh, right back at you, sweetheart," he chuckled, rising from his crouched position and strolling over to a nearby table.

"What do you mean, 'learn'?" Sam asked him. The shapeshifter paused, gripping his head in pain and grimacing, then suddenly relaxed.

This time, he moved over to Sam, his voice laden with resentment. "He's got some serious issues with you. You went to college, and he had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad." He corrected himself, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

Sam brushed aside his comment and pressed, "Where is my brother?"

The shapeshifter leaned in close to Sam, his words oozing with bitterness. "I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You have friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. Sooner or later, everybody's going to leave me." He retreated to another table, this time picking up a knife.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks," he laughed darkly. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky."

His gaze shifted to me now, his head tilted to the side in a taunt "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance." I strained against my restraints, and he turned back to Sam. "Let's see what happens." He walked away, grabbing a bag on his way out.

As soon as the shapeshifter was out of sight, Sam and I began struggling against our restraints. "Damn it," Sam grunted.

I mirrored his efforts, but anxiety washed over me, and my breathing became rapid and shallow. Panic coursed through my veins, I couldn’t feel my magic. The unfamiliar absence of my powers only added to my distress. Leaning my head back against the pole, I hoped that somehow, it would rid me of the constricting iron collar around my neck.

"Y/N, you've got to breathe," Sam urged through gritted teeth as he continued to struggle against the bindings. I tried to listen to him, taking a deep breath that got caught in my throat as I attempted to swallow a sob, releasing a low whimper.

Suddenly, Sam ceased his struggles, and we both listened. We heard movement and coughing coming from somewhere behind him.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's voice called out from a corner his, also tied to a pole.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam chuckled. "He went to Rebecca's, looking like you," Sam added as he continued to struggle against his ropes.

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean joked as he continued working on his own ropes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam explains further.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” Sam shrugs as well as he can in his confinement.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean references, escaping his ropes. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam suggests.

Dean walks over to us, standing between the two of us. I urged him to release Sam first, my voice trembling. He nodded and moved behind Sam to undo the ropes. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Sam was quickly freed and stood up to stretch his neck and flex his hands. "Go see if you can find a drill or something for that," Dean ordered, pointing at the metal collar around my neck. Sam nodded and began searching the nearby tables.

Dean crouched next to me, undoing my restraints as he inquired, "What is that thing?"

"Iron," I mumbled, and his eyes widened in realization. He pulled out a pocket knife, I assume he picked up from the nearby table. I flinched slightly, even though I knew this was Dean, the real Dean who would never harm me.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm just using it for the ropes," he reassured me, raising his hands in defense and displaying the knife. He glanced at his brother across the room, and I couldn't decipher their exchanged looks. I felt silly.

Sam approached with the drill in hand, "I got it," he said, kneeling on the other side of me to begin unscrewing the collar. It seemed to be a rectangular piece of iron cut from a sheet and then drilled into the pole around me, creating this confining device. The whirring of the drill close to my ear did little to ease my anxiety.

The rope around which had rested just below my breasts, fell free. Dean quickly moved on to the one binding my wrists, which came apart more easily, and then to my ankles. I placed my hands on my lap, my wrists slightly bruised from the rope, and finger imprints marked into my skin. I now dreaded seeing what my neck looked like.

Dean's large hands cupped my wrists, gently massaging my sore skin. His movements faltered when he realized his hands and fingers matched perfectly with the bruises. The whirring of the drill stopped as Sam shifted the metal slightly, allowing me to slip free. I shuffled away from the collar, standing up quickly, nearly stumbling over myself. The sensation of my abilities returning enveloped me, offering a sense of comfort.

Both brothers stood up from their crouched positions, and Sam walked away to place the drill somewhere.

Dean approached me slowly, as if I were a frightened animal. He paused just inches in front of me, his eyebrows furrowing as he scrutinized my bruised form. His hand reached up slowly, giving me the chance to evade him, but I didn't. I allowed him to cup my cheek, his touch gentle and in stark contrast to the shapeshifter. I reminded myself that the shapeshifter wasn't him.

His gaze was soft as he observed me, carefully tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He'd already seen the bruises, but his eyes dipped to my neck again, a touch of sorrow evident in his gaze. Just like my wrists, if he put his hand to my neck, it would match perfectly. I knew he would blame himself for this later.

With his hand still cradling my cheek, he brought my face closer to his. His lips pressed to the crown of my head, lingering there for a moment, and I melted against him. The urge to cry washed over me again, though this time it wasn't from fear, but rather from the overwhelming relief.

"Sorry to ruin the moment, but we've got to go," Sam's voice broke the silence from across the room. Dean didn't jump back or withdraw, instead his lips left my head as his hand slid from my face gently. His hand sought mine, and we followed Sam as he led us out.

Sam kicks open a grate, going out first into an alleyway. I crawl out after him, Dean following closely behind. The cold air nipped at us, our jackets nowhere in sight, and though that mixed with my bruising wasn’t the greatest fun in the world I at least got to see Dean in a tight light gray shirt. This probably shouldn’t have been on my mind at this moment but it was a nice distraction.

“Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam orders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna put an APB out on me.” Dean exclaims.

Sam shrugs, “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean runs off down the street.

We stood in front of a store window, a bunch of little tvs broadcasting the same news channel.

The reporter announces, “An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.” A sketch of Dean appearing on screen, “

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean throws up his arms.

“It’s good enough” I answer, looking around at the passerby, “We should move somewhere more out of sight.”

“Agreed” Sam says walking off. “Man!” Dean complains following after his brother.

"Come on," Sam paused in the alleyway. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"I didn't kill her," Dean cut him off.

"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Sam suggested. But I couldn't picture her wanting to see us.

"Alright, but first, I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean declared.

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"Sam, the guy's walking around with my face. It's personal. I want to find him," Dean argued, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asked.

"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean suggested.

"We have no weapons. He stole our guns. We need more," Sam reasoned.

"Oh," I laughed. "You want guns. I'll give you guns." I flicked my wrist, and a gray revolver appeared in my hand, just like when I produced the flare gun back during the wendigo hunt.

I handed the gun to Sam, adding, "How many do you want?"

“I don’t think I can wait, I'm gonna go check on Rebecca now.” Sam said as we walked around some back streets, near the person in question's house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? No offense” I ask him.

“Yeah. You guys just wait for me don’t go into the sewers alone” Sam orders

“Sorry Sammy but do you really think i’ll be able to listen to that” Dean responds chuckling.

“Alright, fair point. Go, i’ll stay with Becca just don’t split up” Sam comprises, turning away to go to Rebecca’s.

Guns raised, Dean leads us across a ‘room’ in the sewer. The chamber filled candles and chains, more piles of disgusting skin and blood on the floor.

A muffling noise echoes through the halls, Dean and I share a look gripping our guns tighter as we approach a figure covered with a sheet.

Dean bends down to the figure, removing the sheet to see Rebecca beneath it. Her hands and feet were bound.

“Rebecca?” Dean and I ask at the same time.

“What happened?” I ask as Dean begins to undue her binds.

Rebecca begins to cry, “ I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean finishes untying her, “Come on. Can you walk?” She nods, “Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”

Even from outside her house you could hear the commotion and most likely fighting that happened inside. Dean crept the door open, gun drawn as he snuck in. I mimicked his movement falling after him into the living room.

The shapeshifter was on top of Sam, pinning him down.

“Hey!” Dean calls out to the shapeshifter. He gets off of Sam turning to the voice that beckoned it. Two shots ring out, through the heart and down the shapeshifter went.

Rebecca enters running over to her friend, “Sam!”

Meanwhile Dean went over to the shapeshifter that looked like him yanking back his necklace that was stolen, and it was probably bad that I hadn’t known it was gone till now.

I sat in my usual spot in the back seat of the Impala, cozied up with my halloween blanket regardless of the fact it was early March. It’s my favorite and I won’t accept any criticism.

The early morning sun shone through the windows, we hadn’t slept last night, spending the entire time busy with the hunt and by the time it was over morning was already breaking and we had to leave to avoid the police. We stopped at the motel for our bags but that was it, we were going to bid our goodbyes and then head to the next state over to rest up. I wasn’t even able to shower, which was okay in retrospect, I'd feel cleaner mentally once we drove away from here. I’d thrown a random t-shirt I had over the sports bra I had been running around in for hours. We eventually did find our coats but I hadn’t taken mine with me, memories I hadn’t wanted to keep sewn into its fabric.

Dean leaned on the outside of the car looking at a map while Sam talked to his friend. Neither boy bothered me or had talked to me much in the couple of hours since the end of our hunt, perhaps too afraid to ask if I was okay or maybe they didn’t know what to say.

I looked out the window watching the trees dance slowly in the wind after waving bye to Rebecca, listening to the boys talk in front of the car.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asks now ignoring the map.

“ Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder.” Sam jokes smiling, “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scuffing, before getting into the car.

We’ve only driven for a couple minutes before Dean brings back the subject of the hunt and everything that had unfolded, “Sorry, man.” Dean suddenly began.

“About what?” Sam responds.

“ I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.” Dean confesses.

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.” Sam admits too.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.” Dean smiles that charming sweet smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam laughs.

“Well, I’m a freak, too.” Dean adds

“You already know I'm one!” I topple on.

“See, we’re right there with ya, all the way.” Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I know you are.” Sam looks between Dean and I as he speaks.

“Those who freak together, stay together?” I offer with a smile, the car falling into laughter. The kind of laughter that lasts in the air even after it was over with, it was stupid of course but it left a warmth in my heart that blanketed me with just enough comfort to last me till the next state over where I'd be safe.

The car fell silent, big smiles on all our faces, “You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean announces randomly.

“Miss what?” Sam laughs lightly.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witchcraft #series #mystery #winchester x reader #witch reader #romance #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x female!reader #the hunter and the witch

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 6 -Skin

Y/N's POV

The boys and I pull up to a musty old gas station to fill baby up. "Alright, I figure we hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south...be there by midnight..." Dean looks over to Sam and we notice Sams focused on his phone and he might not be listening, "...Sam wears women underwear" Dean adds and I snicker while playing Sudoku on the newspaper.

"I've been listening, I'm just busy" Sam says and I peer over in the backseat to take a peek at who he's texting. "Busy doing what?" I ask as Dean gets out of the car. "Reading e-mails" Sam says. "Emails from who?" Dean asks. "From my friends at Stanford" Sam responds.

"You're kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?" Dean asks amused as he picks up the gas pump. "Why not? He kept in touch with me when he went to Stanford" I pipe up. "Well..." Dean says as he puts the pump in the tank, walking back to the side of the passenger seat. "...what exactly would he tell them?" He says to me. "You know? About where you been, what you been doing?" Dean finishes, talking to Sam.

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my big brother and my childhood best friend. I tell them I needed some time off after Jess" Sam says shrugging. "Oh, so you lie to them" Dean says causally. "No. I just don't tell them...everything" Sam defends. "Hate to break it to ya Sammy, but that's called lying" I say ironically, leaning back into the backseat.

"I mean, hey man we get it. Telling the truth is far worse" Dean says chuckling. "So what am I supposed to do? Just cut everyone out of my life?" Sam asks and Dean shrugs. "You're serious?" He asks. "Look, it sucks but..a job like this, you can't get close to people. Period" Dean says chuckling.

"Don't you agree with me Y/N?" Dean asks me and I turn to Sam "As much as I'd hate to admit it man. He's got a point. I mean. I don't keep in contact any of my high-school friends or old lovers due the nature of this job" I give my opinion and I notice Deans eyebrow cock up at the word 'lovers'. Sam shakes his head in disappointment at this.

"You're kind of antisocial, you know that?" Sam retorts to Dean and I snicker at this. "Dean? Antisocial? Have you seen him at happy hour when the cougars are around, ready to dig their claws into some fresh white cub meat" I throw my head back laughing and Sam chuckles. "Shut it, nutcase" Dean grumbles at me. "Make me, asshat" I counter, winking at him and he smirks at me.

Sam looks back down back at his phone and mutters shocked "God". Dean peers his head in the passenger side window and I lean forward to look over Sams shoulder. "What?" Dean asks. "This email from this girl Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine" Sam says. "She hot?" Dean asks intrigued and I roll my eyes.

"I went to school with her and her brother Zach. She says Zach's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says 'he didn't do it but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case' ". Sam explains. "Dude, what kind of people you been hanging out with?" I ask surprised and he shakes his head.

"No man. I know Zach. He's no killer" Sam defends. "Yeah, well. Maybe you know Zach as well as he knows you" Dean says ironically. "Jesus man, that's cold" I say and Dean shrugs. "They're in St. Louis. We're going" Sam turns to Dean and he chuckles. "Look, sorry about your buddy, okay? But, this doesn't sound like our kind of problem" Dean says and I cut him off.

"It is our problem, They're my friend" Sam says firmly. "St. Louis is 400 miles behind us Sam" Dean exaggerates. "We've driven further for less, Dean. Let's just go and if it's not our kind of deal, we split" I try to reason with him, coming to Sam's defense. Sam shoots me a grateful smile not before hitting Dean his classic puppy dog eyes whenever he wants to get his way. Dean just sighs and gets in the Impala, turning around to make our way to St. Louis.

________________________________

Now in-front of Sam's friend Rebecca's house. He knocks and almost immediately she opens the door, a smile plastered on her face. "Oh my god. Sam" She says happy. "Well if it isn't little Becky" He smiles back and I almost immediately notice the enticed look on Deans face when he sees Becky.

I'll admit, she's pretty hot, blonde. Exactly Dean's type. Everything I'm not...wait, why am I wondering if I'm Dean's type? Ugh, whatever.

"And you know what you can do with that 'little Becky' crap" She retorts back before hugging him. "I got your email" Sam says when they break the hug. "I didn't think you'd come here" She says shocked. "Dean. Older brother" Dean cuts in, putting his hand out to shake hers. "Hi" She says. "Hi" He says back with his usual shit eating grin on his face.

"Y/N, childhood best friend" I push Dean aside lightly, putting my hand out to shake hers. Dean grumbles a bit at this but I ignore it. "Hi, Y/N" She says to me smiling widely. "We're here to help. Whatever we can do" Sam says to her. "Come in" She invites us in.

"Nice place" Dean compliments her house as I wolf whistle checking it out. "It's my parents. I was crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zach's free." Rebecca tells us as we're walking in. "Where are your folks?" I ask.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're in their way home now for the trial" She explains to us. Damn, must be nice. "You guys want a beer?" She offers us. "Hey" Dean says gratefully. "No thanks" Sam cuts in and Deans face drops. "So, tell us what happened" Sam asks her, leaning on the kitchen island.

Rebecca sighs, "Well...um...Zach, he came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing, and so he— He called 911 and the police, they showed up and— And they arrested him" She explains to us, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"But the thing is, the only way that Zach could have killed Emily is if he was two places at the same time." She continues and me and the boys look at each other. "The police, they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now Emily was killed just after that but I swear he was here with me having a few beers until at least after midnight" She explains fully.

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zach's house" Sam suggests. "We could" Dean says. "I mean, why? I mean, what could you do?" Rebecca's asks. "Well, me, not much. But Dean and Y/N are cops." Sam says and Rebecca looks over at us shocked. Me and Dean chuckle before I turn to her. "Detectives, actually" I say and Dean grins cockily at my choice.

"Really? Where?" She asks curiously. "Bisbee, Arizona" Dean says nodding and I nod as well. "But we're off duty now" Dean says and Rebecca hesitates. "You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just— I don't know" She says unsure. "Beck, look, I know Zach didn't do this." Sam says, sympathizing with her. "Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent" Sam reasons with her.

She looks over to us and we smile at her. "Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys" She agrees and leaves the room. When she walks off, Dean wolf whistles checking her out, "Well, you're a real straight shooter with your friends" Dean says. "Look, Zach and Becky need our help-" Dean cuts Sam off. "I just don't think this is our kind of problem" Dean exaggerates again.

"Two places at once? Like I said, we've looked into less" I counter and Sam nods. Dean sighs, giving in and agreeing.

________________________________

A little later we're over at the crime scene. We all jump out of the Impala and Rebecca asks. "Are you sure this is okay?" Clutching her sweater to her chest. "Yeah. We are officers of the law" Dean lamely says and I internally roll my eyes as we walk over to the house. This man has no game. How he gets women? I will never know.

Opening the door, the scene is not pretty. Blood everywhere you could think of. I turn to Rebecca after seeing the state. "Hun, you wanna wait outside?" I ask her gently. She shakes her head and steps in, under the police tape. "No, I wanna help" She says walking inside, clutching her hands to her chest. "Tell us what else the police said" Sam says to her.

"Well, there's no sign of a break in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers, they're already talking about plea-bargain" She tells us tearfully. "Oh god" She gasps tearfully, looking at the scene. "Look Beck, if Zach didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?" Sam asks her calmly while shakes her head then she realizes something.

"Um, there was something. About a week before, somebody broke in here. They stole some clothes. Zach's clothes. The police, they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed" Rebecca explains to us tearfully. I hear a dog barking outside.

Me and Dean open the door to see a big brown labradoodle barking aggressively at the door. Rebecca comes behind us and says. "You know, that used to be the sweetest dog" She says as the dog is growling at us. "What happened?" Dean asks. "He just changed." She says shrugging.

"You remember when he changed?" I ask. "I guess around the time of the murder" She says, me and Dean share a look at this sighing. Turning back to walk inside to the kitchen. There Sam is by the fridge, looking at a picture of him, Rebecca and Zach. "Do the neighbors dog went psycho right around the time Zach's girlfriend was killed" Dean tells Sam.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal" Sam says. "Yeah, maybe Fido saw something" I say and Sam's eyes narrow at his brother. "So you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" He asks Dean knowingly. "No, probably not. But we should look at the security tape" Dean still denies, causing me and Sam to shake our heads.

"You...." I clap my hand on his shoulder gently. "...Are one stubborn bastard" I chuckle ironically and Sam says, "Yeah" while Dean huffs, rolling his eyes as I take my hand off his shoulder. Rebecca comes back into the kitchen and I ask her. "So, the tape, the uh security footage? You think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it? See we just don't have that kind of jurisdiction" I tell her.

"I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in-front of the cops" She admits, nodding her head towards me and Dean. We chuckle at this. "I stole it off the lawyers desk. I just had to see it for myself" She says to us. "Alright" Dean says happily to me and Sam, gesturing for Rebecca to make her way out, he walks out and he follows behind her.

Sam looks at the picture with him and his friends sadly and I rest my hand on my best friend's shoulder comfortingly. He turns to me sighing, his head dropping a bit. "We'll find whoever did this to your friend, Sammy" I give him a small smile, trying to reassure him. He just nods and sighs. "We better" He says.

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We're all now back at Rebecca's house, reviewing the security tape. "Here he comes" Rebecca says, pointing at the tv is a clear video of Zach at, "2204, that's just after 10. You said time of death was 10:30" Dean indicates, sitting on the handle of the couch Rebecca is on, while Sam and I stand, looking at it intently.

"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with" She tells us and I notice something flash in Zach's eyes on the screen, I nudge Sam with my elbow lightly to see if he saw it too. He nods and turns to Rebecca. "Hey hun, can we take those beers now?" I ask causally smiling. "Yeah sure, no problem" She smiles at me, getting up to get the beers.

"Hey...uh...maybe some sandwiches too?" Sam adds and she smiles. "What do you think this is, Hooters?" She says chuckling. Dean looks at us suspiciously when we do this as it's completely out of character for us. Dean chuckles at her Hooters comment. "I wish. What is it?" Dean asks us, getting up from the couch to move closer.

"Check this out" Sam says, rewinding the security footage to when Zach turned his head to the camera. There, is a silver flash in his eyes. "Maybe it's just a camera flare" Dean suggests but I shake my head. "That's not like any camera flare I've seen before" I say and Sam nods in agreement. "You know a lot of cultures believe a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul" I say.

"Right" Dean says and I continued. "Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing" I suggest. "Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zach's, something that looks like him but isn't him" Sam adds. "Like a doppelgänger" Dean adds. "Yeah" Sam says and I nod. "That would sure explain how he was in two places at once" I say as we look at the screen.

________________________________

Early the next morning. Sam wakes us up to go back to the crime scene at Zach's house. We're at the back. Coffee in Deans hand and cigarette in between my fingers. Me, Dean and Sam exit the Impala, shutting the door behind us. "Alright. So, what are we doing here at 5:30 in the morning" Dean asks annoyed as I scratch my head and yawn.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in but not coming out" Sam says. "So he came out the back door?" I ask taking a drag from my cigarette, squinting my eyes from the harsh light coming from the sun while Dean takes a sip of his coffee "Right. So there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue" Sam says, walking across the street, around the side of the dumpster.

While I lean against the front bumper of baby, Dean says. "Because they think the killer never left. They caught your friend Zach inside" Dean leans on baby next to me. "I still don't know what we're doing here at 5:30 in the morning" I grumble annoyed as I another drag and letting it out. Dean nods agreeing with me.

"Aww does the Princess need her beauty sleep?" His tone is teasing, pouting jokingly at me while I take a drag. I give him a side glare and I roll my eyes. "You need it more than me, charming" I tease back, winking at him and letting out the smoke as he scoffs. "Who pissed in your coffee?" He chuckles when I pointed to Sam in annoyance.

My eyes trail down his face as he drinks from his cup. The way his lips wrap around the little opening in the lid. He catches me staring and smirks. "Not a word" I huff and he puts his hands up in surrender chuckling. We look over to see Sam staring at the wooden post right across from the dumpster.

"Blood. Somebody came this way." Sam says from across the street, nodding towards it with his head. "Maybe the trail ends. I don't see anything here" Dean says and I second that. "Me neither" I say shrugging. We hear sirens from a ambulance in the distance. It comes rushing down the street we're on and we all look at it past by.

The boys and I share a knowing look. I sigh and toss my almost burnt out bud on the ground, crushing it with my boot before we all jump in the Impala and follow behind the ambulance.

________________________________

Couple blocks over we get out of baby to scan the scene. Cops are putting up police tape and the place is crowded. "What happened?" I ask a woman who's onlooking the commotion. "He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her" She tells us. "Really?" Sam says as shocked as we are.

"Yeah. I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy" She says sadly as we look at the police escort a man in handcuffs to the squad car.

________________________________

Sam and I decide to go to the back of the building to see if there is anything of significance. We see some large blue trash bins and begins opening them. "Hey. Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem" Dean calls out to us as we walk back out. "Yeah?" Sam says.

"Definitely our kind of problem" Dean says a little excited. "Finally you're on board. What'd you find out?" I ask as I stick my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. "I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, who heard this guys Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked" Dean explains and it clicks.

"So he was two places at once?" Sam beats me to it. "Exactly!" Dean exclaims. "Then he sees himself in the house. Police think he's a nut job" Dean adds. "Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way" I start, walking a bit forward, turning back to the boys.

"Could be the same thing doing it too" Dean suggests. "Shapeshifter?" Sam asks questionably and Dean shrugs. "Something that could make itself look like anyone" Sam adds. "Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. Legends of creatures who transform themselves into animals or other men" Dean gives us the rundown and I nod.

"Right. Skinwalkers, werewolves.." I give examples trailing off. "We got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter problem" Dean says. "Let me ask you this: In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asks us, walking forward and looking up at the building.

"Not that I know of. You?" Dean says, then turns to me asking and I shake my head. "I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out of the back of this building, headed off this way" Sam says. "Just like your friends house" I say. "Yeah. And just like at Zach's house..the trail suddenly ends" Sam says.

"I mean, whatever it is just disappeared" He said confused and something clicked in my head. I look down and Dean nudges me. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" He asks me. "Yeah, I think so. There might be another way to go" I look up at Sam, nodding towards the sewer hole behind him.

He grimaces. "Aw come on!" He groans while me and Dean chuckle.

________________________________

We all climb down the drainage, closing back up the hole. Looking around it's a dark long corridor. "I bet this runs right by Zach's house too" Sam says. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around" I say as we walk towards Dean who's flashing his flashlight in a dark corner.

"Look at this" He says with a grimace on his face, stooping down to the ground. Infront of us is a pile of what looks like human skin, blood, hair and slime. It's all mushed into a gooey guck that smells like a rotting corpse.

"Oh gross" I gag in disgust. "Gimme your butterfly knife" Dean puts his hand out and I reach into my combat boots, pulling out the knife and handing it to him. He flicks it open, picking up a hair strand that's drenched in the slimy substance. Sam groans in disgust behind me. "Is this from his victims?" He questions and something crosses my mind.

"You know. I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape....maybe it sheds" I say and Dean coughs from the repulsive thought. "That is sick" Sam says, the grimace on his face deepening.

________________________________

Now back above ground. I turn to Dean asking him. "Yo. You got silver bullets?" I ask him and he nods. "Yeah, right here in baby" Dean opens the Impala trunk and takes out the silver bullets and I pull out my revolver.

"One thing I learned from Dad. No matter what kind of shapeshifter it is. There's only one sure way to kill it" I say, taking the silver bullets one by one and loading it. I look over to Sam who has a smirk on his face. "Silver bullet to the heart" He says, his dimples showing. "That's right" I say smiling. "Atta girl princess" Dean says proudly, patting the small of my back.

My heart leaps at the way he praised me and I feel a knot tie in my stomach when he touched my back. I cover it up with a smile and Sam's phone rings. He walks off to answer it. "This is Sam....We're near Zach's, we're just checking out some things" he says into the phone and I assume it's Rebecca.

"What're you talking about?" He asks confused and then sighs after a couple seconds. "Why would you do that??...Beck.... " He tries to defend and his face drops. "We're trying to help" He says sadly and Dean and I look at each other like 'oh shit'.

I can hear Rebecca's angry voice slightly but couldn't make out the words. "Look Beck I'm sorry but-" and then takes the phone off his ear. "Go easy on him" I whisper to Dean. "Nope" He says back and I roll my eyes before we close the trunk and walk back to the side of the car where Sam is.

"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talking about" Dean starts and I internally facepalm. Sam doesn't look at us. "You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you they'd be freaked" Dean finishes his lecture. "It's just- It'd be easier if-" I go to add but Sam cuts me off. "If I was like you two" He says sadly.

"Hey man, like it or not, we are not like other people" Dean says with a small smile on his face. "But I'll tell you one thing though, this whole gig..." I start, pulling out a gun with silver bullets and handing it to Sam. "..it ain't without perks" I say smugly, earning a chuckle from both boys. Sam takes the gun and sticks it behind his pants and we walk back down the block to make way back into the sewer.

________________________________

The dirty mucky water splatters at our feet as we walk through the sewers, flashing our lights through the empty hallow dark tunnel. After a few minutes of walking down the drainage. I spot a pile of skin on a pipe next to Sam and I nudge Dean, shining my light at it.

"I think we're close to its lair" I say. "Why do you say that?" Sam asks. "Cuz there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face" Dean  indicates and Sam flinches. "Oh, God" He gasps in disgust and me and Dean snicker at this. I shine my light a little lower, revealing more skin, blood, gunk and old clothes on the ground.

"Looks like he's lived here for a while" I say. "No kidding Sherlock" Dean retorts back sarcastically, groaning and I roll my eyes at him. I cover my nose using my shirt to block the stench but it doesn't really help. "Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with" Sam says.

He turns to us, flashing the light behind us and yells "DEAN! Y/N!" And I feel a sharp pain behind my head, knocking me to the ground. Dean falls beside me, clutching his left shoulder as Sam shoots at the shapeshifter who attacked us but misses.

I moan in pain from the sudden attack. "Get the son of a bitch!" Dean groans in pain, holding his shoulder. I'm still on the ground, dazzled from the pain. Dean holds me up, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. "Come on, princess. I've got you" He says gently, helping me up and we bolt out of there.

We crawl out of the sewer hole. Grunting as we get out. Dean let's me up first and I take his hand to help him out. "Come on, charming. I've got you" I repeat his words to him and he gratefully takes my hand. "Alright. Let's split up" Sam says to us.

"Alright, I'll meet you guys on the other side. Stay together okay?" Dean instructs us and I nod curtly. "Be safe" I say quickly. "Ditto" He winks at me and we go in separate directions. Sam and I walk down the crowded street, concealing our weapons, looking for the shifter.

After some time, we come up empty. Now at a street corner. "Hey" We hear Deans voice behind us. "Anything?" He asks us and I shake my head. "No, he's gone" I say disappointed. "Alright, let's get back to the car" Dean says and we all make way back to Baby.

"You think he found another way underground?" Sam asks. "Yeah, probably. You got the keys?" Dean asks. "Hey, didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Sam asks Dean suspiciously. "No. It was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was thought form. A psychic projection, remember?". Dean says casually.

"Oh, right." Sam says shaking his head and chuckling. "Here you go" He throws the keys to Dean who caught his with his left shoulder....oh no. We walk back around the side of Baby as 'Dean' opens the trunk.

"His shoulder was hurt" I whisper to Sam, nudging him. "I know, that's why I threw it at his left" He whispers back. "You thinking what I'm thinking??" He asks me still whispering. I nod, "That ain't Dean" I say. We draw our guns and rush over to the trunk where 'Dean' was leaning down over it.

"Don't move you slimy bastard!" I yell, pointing my gun at 'Dean'. "What have you done with him!?" Sam demands as he points his gun at 'Dean'. He puts his hands up in surrender, taking a confused look. "Guys, chill. It's me alright" He says.

"No. I don't think so. Where's my brother!" Sam demands. "You're about to shoot him". 'Dean' retorts, gesturing to our guns. "Guys calm down" He tries to reason. "You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt!" I tell him, knowing he was lying.

"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" 'Dean' says sarcastically. "You're not my brother" Sam says wearily and I cock my gun, hesitant to shoot. "Why don't you pull the trigger then? Hmm? Because you're not sure. Guys, you know me." 'Dean' says and I hesitate. "Don't" I grit my teeth at him.

In a flash, he knocks the gun out of both of our hands. I feel another sharp pain in my head and everything goes black.

________________________________

My eyes flutter open, a throbbing pain in my head. My vision is slightly blurred but I open my eyes to see Sam. "Sammy?" I groan, my voice raspy from the pain. I feel a dampness on my legs, my neck is tied to a post, my arms bounded behind me. We're back in the sewer, captured by Deans evil twin, great.

Sam's across the room from me passed out, tied exactly like me. Sam eventually comes to, groaning in pain like me. I see movement behind Sam, only it's Shapeshifter Dean. He walks up to Sam with a straight face, ropes in his arm. He back hands him across his cheek and I scream. "DONT TOUCH HIM YOU SLIMY BASTARD!" Trying to rip out of my binds but it's expertly tied.

Sam grunts in pain taking a deep breath. "Where is he??" Sam asks the imposter. "Where's Dean you face stealing freak!" I yell angrily. Ready to maul the son of a bitch if he hurt Dean. "I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you" Shapeshifter Dean says, turning to me.

"Same goes for you, Princess" He winks at me, smirking and I grimace. "Where is he?" Sam asks again. "You really don't wanna know" The Shapeshifter says morbidly, chuckling. "I swear, the more I learn about you two and your families...I thought I came from a bad background" Shapeshifter Dean says ironically.

"What do you mean learn?" Sam asks as the shifter pulls out a knife, examining it. The shifter starts holding his head, cringing and grunting as if he's in pain. He then turns back to Sam, a slight smirk on his face. "He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home" He taunts Sam, walking towards him and dropping his bag.

"I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?" Shapeshifter Dean says irritated but Sam isn't letting up. "Where...is my brother?" Sam demands again. "I'm your brother" Shapeshifter Dean says, leaning down to eye level with Sam.

"See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me." Shapeshifter Dean says, walking a bit back. "What are you talking about?" Sam asks. "You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothing, just. Poof. Left me with your sorry ass" He walks towards Sam.

"But still, this life...it's not without its perks" Shapeshifter Dean repeats my words from earlier. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky, seeing as Dean is so convinced he doesn't have a chance with Y/N and is so stupid to not even admit his feelings for her to himself. He would bang little Becky if he had the chance" Shapeshifter Dean says and I freeze, my heart feels like it's gonna fall out of my chest.

What the fuck? Is he high or something? He's got to be lying. Demons do it to weaken their targets. Surely shifters do it too because he was just taunting Sam. Sam looks over to me quickly and Shapeshifter Dean turns to me.

"And sweet sweet little Y/N.." He coos, striding over to me. "He has quite the thing for you..I mean me. Gotta admit though, I've got amazing taste in women" He crouches down and rests his hand on my cheek, which makes me feel physically ill.

"Don't touch her!" Sam shouts protectively and I nod at him to ensure him I'm fine. I move my head away from him but he just comes closer to me. The smile on his face makes my stomach churn and not in a good way.

"You are the package deal. You're sexy, smart, snarky, and funny. You know how to keep me on my toes, challenge me. You make me laugh in any situation despite how stressful it is. Hell, I hate to admit it but you keep me in line whenever I'm acting like the dick I am" He chuckles at the last part, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Sometimes I'm even a bit jealous at the friendship you have with Sammy....But the way you would look at me sometimes, your flirty little comebacks, the way you would sway your hips when you walk, the sight of you on that bike of yours....oh mannn....gets me going everytime" He licks his lips looking at me with a lustful gaze and I feel a chill run down my spine in disgust.

"Jesus dude, at least by me dinner first" I sneer at him and he chuckles. "See? That's the snark I'm talking about" He says, smiling at me and rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip. "Where.Is.Dean?" I grit my teeth at him. "I'm right here baby" He says huskily and I groan.

"I remember how stoked I was when you didn't hesitate to come with us to find my dad...then your daddy went missing too...tsk tsk tsk...poor thing" He says sympathetically, clicking his tongue.

"You grew from this adorable shy timid girl who was afraid of her daddy to this beautiful confident badass women who stood her ground against her controlling father and left..." He trails off as if he's recollecting something, then he roughly grabs my hair, pulling it harshly causing me to wince in pain.

"LET GO OF HER YOU DICK!" Sam yells from across the room, trying to rip out of his bindings. "Did you know when you ran away, your dad had me looking for you for months!" He shouts in my face. "Hauled my ass from Washington to Florida and back!"

"You should've never run away you little bitch" He seethes through his teeth pulling my hair more making me cry out in pain. "You're lucky I covered for your ass every single time, I knew exactly where you were and I had to lead him away every time because I was trying to be a good friend!". He grits his teeth in anger

"You did me just like Sam and walked out when I needed you most! Sam left and then you! God you two are selfish" His tone is pained, betrayed. And I snap, a sick thought crossing my mind but I'm too angry to care right now if he kills me or not.

"Well let me make it up to you" I say suggestively, flashing him a coy smile. Hes fully taken back at this. My eyes flicker to Sam and. I can see his expression go from angry to confused from across the room. A clear look of shock is evident but a sickening smirk on Shapeshifter Dean's face.

"And how would you do that, princess?" He says huskily. I could see Sam's face contorting to disgust across the room, confused and angry. "Lay a kiss on me charming, you wouldn't regret it" I wink at him, smiling seductively.

"You're kidding?" He says surprised, chuckling, his grip loosening on my hair. "No jokes" I grit my teeth, trying to hide my disgust. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" Sam yells from across the room.

Shapeshifter Dean's eyes flicker down to my lips, when leans in to kiss me, just as his lips is centimeters away from mine. I hawk up a loogie, spitting it in his face and draw my head back instantly, head-butting him in his nose.

"YOU BITCH!" He screams in pain. He holds his nose, stumbling back. When he recovers, he draws his fist back, right hooking me in my face, hard. "STOP IT!" Sam pleads begging. I turn my head back to Shapeshifter Dean, laughing, a victorious grin on my face. The metallic taste of blood and saliva coating my taste buds.

"Fuck you, you even punch like a bitch. That's to show you'll never be Dean" I sneer at him, spitting the blood out from my mouth on the ground besides me. He groans in pain, grabbing a tarp covering Sam who's yelling at him. He then grabs another to cover me but before he does, he looks at me and says. "I can't wait to kill you" and I smirk.

"Look at me good. Remember this face clearly. Cuz I'll be the last thing you see when I put a bullet in your head, you skin shedding, goopy son of a bitch!" My tone is deadly as I seethe through my teeth. "Well...if it ain't working with you...let's see how it works out with Becky" he winks at me. Covering me with the tarp.

Sometime later, the tarp slips off me and I see Sam struggling. "You okay?" He asks concerned. I shrug, blood still dripping from my mouth. "I can take a punch" I chuckle weakly, trying to slip out of the bounds. "Damn it" Sam grumbles. "Can't get out either" I tell him. We hear a bit of movement and someone coughing. "That better be you, Sam and Y/N and not that freak of nature" Dean voice echos through the sewer and I chuckled sighing in relief as Sam laughs.

"Yeah, it's us. He went to Rebecca's, looking like you" Sam says grunting as me and he try to get out of the ropes. "Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one" Dean says smugly and Sam looks back offended. I chuckle lightly at this. He sure did.

"That's the thing, he didn't look like you. He was you...or he was becoming you" Sam says to us as we try to get out of the ropes. "What do you mean?" Dean asks. "I don't know, it's like he was downloading your thoughts and memories" Sam says.

"You mean like the Vulcan Mind Meld" Dean asks. "Yeah, something like that. Maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us?" Sam says. Dean gets out of his ropes and goes around to Sam saying, "Maybe...he needs to keep us alive for the psychic connection" He says untying Sam. "Yeah, come on, we gotta go. He's probably already at Rebecca's" Sam says.

Dean comes around and unties me. He notices the blood on my mouth. "Jesus, what did he do to you Princess" He asks gently when he notices my busted mouth. He holds my face in his hands, worry etched on his face. "I'm good charming" I smile at him, reaching up to hug him. "Let's go fellas" I say and we all get out of there.

"Come on, we gotta find a phone. Call the police" Sam says to us as we climb out of the hole, leading us to an alleyway. "Whoa whoa whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me?" Dean says, helping me out. "Sorry" Sam says shrugging. "This way" Dean leads us down the alley.

A little later, after Sam made the phone call to the police, we're on the street infront of a shop with TVs showing the local news, with a crappy sketch of Dean. "An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End where a SWAT team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately 24-30 years old was discovered hiding in the home. Shots were fired-" The reporter says but Dean cuts it off saying, "Man, that's not even a good picture!" He exclaims. "It's good enough" Sam says as I shake my head and we walk back down the street.

"If you ask me, I think the bastard was talking a pack of bullcrap to throw us off. Like what demons do" I suggest and Sam cocks his eyebrow at me. "It didn't seem like it Y/N. He had certain memories only Dean should know" Sam says and I huff.

I don't look him in the eye because I already know where he's getting at. As much as I would love to believe what that shifter said as Dean is true. It couldn't be. Can it?

"Why don't you think he was lying?" Dean asks and I shake my head, Sam looks over at me urging. "He just said a ton of crap, that's all" I say. "And he tried to kiss her" Sam interjects. "He what!?" Dean yells pissed. "Relax!" I put my hand in his shoulder.

"I hawked a loogie in his face and head-butted him in the nose with my forehead" I say and Dean grins proudly. "Atta girl" He says proudly, patting my cheek and my heart leaps. He needs to stop doing that I swear.

We walk further into an alley way and Dean almost trips on a puddle of water and it splashes on him, "Come on!" He yells. "They said attempted murder. At least we know-" Sam says and Dean cuts him off. "I didn't kill her" Dean says."I'll check on Rebecca in the morning , see if she's alright" Sam says.

"Well first I'm gonna find that handsome Devil and kick the holy crap outta him" Dean says aggressively. "I might just beat you to it" I growl, still pissed about what happened down there. He looks me over a bit shocked but it seems like he understands why I'm pissed.

"Guys. We have no weapons, no silver bullets" Sam tells us. "Sam, the guy's walking around with my face AND he tried to kiss Y/N. It's a little personal. Okay? We wanna find him" Dean turns to Sam irritated. Sam just nods, "Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asks. "Well we could start with the sewers" I suggest." We have no weapons. He stole our guns. We need more." Sam reminds us.

"The car?" I say. "I bet he drove over to Rebecca's" Dean says. "The news said he fled on foot. I bed it's still parked there" Sam says. "Oh the thought of him driving my car" Dean growls. "Alright, Hulk Hogan. Come on" I say patting Deans back as we walk back down the alley. "Its killing me" Dean says angrily. "Let it go" Sam shoots back.

________________________________

After some time of walking, we end up a few blocks from Rebecca's by foot. "There she is" Dean breaths out a sigh of relief after seeing Baby. "Finally, something went right tonight" Dean says happily as we walk towards baby. Suddenly a squad car comes around the corner, sirens wailing.

"Oh crap" I mutter and the boys and I run down the alleyway. Only to be cornered by another car at the end. "Whoa whoa whoa" Dean says surprised. "This way! This way!" Dean leads us out and we follow behind him running.

We come up to a wall. "You guys go. I'll hold them off" Sam says and I nod. "What're you talking about?!" Dean exclaims. "They'll catch you!" I yell at Sam. "Look. They can't hold me! Just go, keep out of sight! Meet me at Rebecca's" Sam order us and we sigh scaling the walls. "Dean. Y/N! Stay out of the sewers alone!" Sam shouts and we jump over, now on the other side

"I mean it!" Sam yells. "Yeah yeah!" I shout back irritated. Dean looks at me trying to catch his breath. "What're you thinking about?" I ask him after seeing the look on his face. "You know me princess, I can't wait" He says smugly and I sigh. "Fine let's go. We'll wait for it to clear out and get baby" I say.

"You can't-" He starts but I cut him off. "Don't you dare Winchester. I'm coming. End of discussion. We protect each other right?" I say firmly and he smirks at me. "Damn straight" He grins.

________________________________

When the sun comes up, me and Dean head back down to the sewer. Trudging through the tunnel there's piles of skin littered all over. We come up to a corner where there's candles lit and a bunch of chains. We hear some movement and I nudge Dean.

"This way" I say and he follows behind me. We see what looks like someone covered with a tarp like what me and Sam were covered with. Dean pulls it off and it reveals, "Rebecca?" We say shocked. She's all bloody and busted up. Her hair scattered all about. "What happened?!" I ask her as me and Dean untie her.

"I was walking home and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me" She explains shakily, tears drenching her face. "How is that possible?!" She asks sobbing. "Okay. Okay. It's okay. Come on. Can you walk?" Dean tries to calm her down and she nods.

"Okay. We gotta hurry okay hun? Sam went to see you" I tell her and she grabs onto us. We get her out of the sewer and into Deans car.

________________________________

Me and Dean pull up to Rebecca's house and bolt out of Baby. We knock her door down, just in time to see the shifter as Dean ontop of Sam in the middle of the living room choking him. "Hey!" Dean yells. Both of us aiming our guns at him. The shifter stumbles off of Sam, looking at us like he's ready to attack.

I don't give him time to and I shoot twice, right in his chest and he launches backwards into the wall, dropping dead. I don't notice Rebecca come behind us through the door. "Sam" she says concerned, running over to check on him.

Me and Dean walk closer slowly towards the dead shifter and kneel next to him, listening to make sure he's dead. I pull Deans chain that he stole that was around his neck and hand it to Dean. He gives me a grateful smile and wraps it in his hand, I smile back at him and look over back to the dead shifter.

"Told you I'd be the one to kill you" I growl angrily.

________________________________

The next day, we're outside parked waiting for Sam to finish talking to Rebecca. Dean's leaning of Baby's hood checking a map for our next hunt. While I'm bracing on her, smoking a cigarette. He comes and sits next to me, judging me a bit.

I look over to him and smile. "You okay princess?" He asks me concerned and I just look down and nod. "I'm fine charming" I smile at him reassuringly. "I don't know what he said to you, but whatever it was, don't let it get to you" He says calmly, placing his hand on the small of my back comfortingly.

I look into his eyes and notice it softened a bit. Wondering if what that shapeshifter said could be true. Does Dean have a thing for me?

"I won't. I promise" I say smiling at him, flicking my burnt out cigarette to the side. His eyes pierce mine and I gulp a bit. I could've sworn he glanced at my lips again but our heated gaze is cut off by Rebecca and Sam coming of of the house. "So this is what you do. You, your brother and best friend, you hunt down these kinds of things?" Rebecca says and Sam chuckles.

They have a short conversation before they hug. She waves at us. Me and Dean wave at her back before she walks in and Sam sighs walking towards us. "So what about your friend Zach?" Dean asks. "Cops are blaming this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder" Sam says to us ironically.

"They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair..Zach's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah Becca says Zach will be released soon" Sam says to us nodding and smiling.

"Hate to be that guy" I joke and Dean rolls his eyes at me as we jump in his car.

________________________________

As we're driving down the empty road. Dean turns to Sam. "Sorry man" He says. "About what?" Sam asks. "I really wish things could be different you know, I wish you could just be...Joe College" Dean says apologetically. "It's okay" Sam says causally taking a deep breath. "You know truth is, even at Stanford, deep down. I never really fit in" Sam says.

"Well, that's cuz you're a freak" I pipe up jokingly from the backseat and he turns to me smiling. "Yeah thanks" He says sarcastically laughing. "Well, I'm a freak too. And so is Dean." I shrug smiling, Dean looks at me in the rearview mirror and winks. I try to hide my blush but I'm sure he noticed. "And we're right there with you all the way" Dean adds supportively.

"Yeah, I know you are" Sam nods smiling. "You know, I gotta say, I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it" Dean says. "Miss what?" Sam asks. "How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" He jokes and I laugh along with Sam.

________________________________

Authors Note:

This is unedited so I'm sorry if there's alot of mistakes. Hope whoever is reading enjoys. Thank you!☺️

Xoxo

#dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction

[fictionadventurer]

Hoover?

Herbert Hoover came from a very poor family in Iowa. After his parents died, he moved in with an uncle in Oregon, and worked at his land office. He didn't attend school after grade school, but when a Stanford recruiter came through, Hoover did so well on his tests (except English) that he was admitted to the college.

He met his wife Lou at Standford, where they both got geology degrees. Hoover got hired with a mining company, and he and Lou oversaw mining operations in Australia and Asia. They were both in China during the Boxer Rebellion. They worked together to translate an ancient Roman mining text for the first time, and they'd give bound copies of it to people as gifts. Lou spoke eight languages, and she and Herbert would speak Mandarin when they didn't want people to understand their conversations.

By the time Hoover was 40, he was a self-made millionaire, working with a company with offices on six continents and a headquarters in London, and while in London, he was looking for a way to engage with public life. Then WWI broke out. He and Lou worked together to set up a charity to help provide food and transportation for American stuck in Europe. Then the crisis in Belgium happened, and he worked with the Belgian government to start the Belgian Relief program. He eventually had 600 ships bringing food to the starving citizens of Belgium. He was called things like "the Great Humantarian" and "the Master of Emergencies".

This caught the attention of Woodrow Wilson, who brought him into his administration as a food administrator, encouraging Americans to reduce consumption of certain foods in light of the war effort. Hoover then became Secretary of Commerce under Warren Harding, and he massively grew that department. Calvin Coolidge put him in charge of disaster relief efforts in 1927 to respond to flooding in Mississippi, which increased his reputation of a guy who was great at responding to emergencies.

He was so popular that he was the obvious Republican candidate for president. Unfortunately, the guy who was a great humanitarian didn't have the personality or the experience to navigate the give-and-take of politics. He preferred just going in and getting the job done to having to work as part of the political machine. He alienated Congress before the Depression. After the Depression hit, he was doing a lot more behind the scenes to respond to things than the public realized at the time--and had more success than he was given credit for--but he was villainized for not wanting to start direct government programs to help people. That was something he had done a ton of as a private citizen, but he didn't think it was the role of the president to do things like that--he wanted to leave that kind of thing to private charities--which unfortunately gave him a reputation of being uncaring.

He was extremely active in his post-presidential life. After WWII, he was again put in charge of relief efforts to bring food to Europe. He ran the Hoover Commission that reorganized the executive branch of the government. He wrote tons of books and papers (and this from the guy who did so badly at English in college that he needed special permission to graduate). For a guy who had such a disastrous presidency, he actually had a pretty amazing and successful life, and I wish more people knew about it.

#answered asks #presidential talk

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Skin

Masterlist/ Next Chapter

"Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." Dean said as we pull up to a gas station. We look over at Sam but he was to busy checking his e-mail.

"Sam?" I said to get his attention but he ignores me.

"Sam wears women’s underwear." Dean said and I began to laugh. "I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy." He said to us.

"Busy doin’ what?" I asked him. "Reading e-mails." Sam said as Dean gets out of the car and starts to fill the tank with gas.

"E-mails from who?" I asked him.

"From my friends at Stanford." Sam replied.

"You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?" Dean asked.

"Why not?" Sam said, shrugging.

"Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you've been doin’?" I asked him. "I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother and an old childhood friend. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess." Sam replied.

"Oh, so you lie to ‘em." Dean said. "No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything." Sam stammers.

"Yeah, that’s called lying." I said and he glares at me over his shoulder. "I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse." I said to him.

"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam asked us and Dean and I shrug at this. "You guys serious?" Sam asked us, disbelieving. "Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period." Dean said to Sam. "Yeah, it's better this way." I said.

"You guys are kind of anti-social, you know that? I mean, I didn't expect that from you, (y/n)." Sam said and I shrug as Dean said. "Yeah, whatever."

"Time changes people Sam." I said as I give him an I'm sorry look. "God…." He grumbled after he leans back in his seat and reads his e-mail.

"What?" We asked him. "In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine." Sam replied. "Is she hot?" Dean asked and I glared over at him. "Really? That's what your biggest concern?" I asked him and he shrugs at me.

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case." Sam said as Dean and I glanced over at him.

"Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?" Dean asked him. "No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer." Sam said, firmly. "Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you." I said to him.

"They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’." Sam said after he reads over the email, which makes Dean chuckle. "Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." Dean said to him.

"It is our problem. They’re my friends." said Sam.

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam." I exclaimed then the three of us exchange a look. And a minute later, we pull out of the gas station and start driving off.

****

Sam knocked on the door and his friend, Rebecca, answers it. Once she sees Sam, her eyes light up and she smiles. "Oh my God, Sam!" She exclaims, happily. "Well, if it isn’t little Becky." Sam teased and she rolls her eyes. "You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She said as she smiles then they hug.

"I got your e-mail." Sam said. "I didn’t think that you would come here." She said as Dean steps forward and extends his hand. "Dean. Older brother." He introduces and she shakes his hand.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." He said, giving a smirk.

Then I extend my hand to her. "(Y/n). An old school friend of his." I said as I nod towards Sam. "Hello." She said as she takes my hand and shakes it.

"We’re here to help. Whatever we can do." Sam said once Becky and I stopped shaking hands. "Come in." She said and we walk inside the house, and Dean shuts the door behind us. "Aw, how sweet." I teased and he smirks.

"What can I say, I'm a gentleman." He said.

"You're a lot of things, but a gentleman is not one of them." I said. "Hey! I can be!" He said and I scoff at this. "Yeah, sure." I said as we walk deeper into the house.

"Nice place." I said as I looked around the house. "It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free." Becky said to me.

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked her. "They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial." She replied as wr enter the kitchen.

"Do you guys want a beer or something?" She offered us and Dean smiles. "Hey—" he started to say but Sam talks over him. "No, thanks. So, tell us what happened." He said and Dean frowns a bit.

"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing." She said and she starts to cry. "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight." She cries.

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house." Sam said. "We could." I said as Dean nods.

"Why? I mean, what could you do?" Becky asked, confused.

"Well, me, not much. But Dean and (y/n) are cops." Sam said and Dean and I chuckle. "Detectives, actually." Dean said and I nodded.

"Really?" Becky asked and we nod at her. "Where?" She asked. "Bisbee, Arizona. But we're off-duty now." I replied, quickly.

"You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know." Becky stammers. "Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent." Sam tries to assure her. She looks between the three of us then nods. "Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys." She said and she walks away, down the hall.

"Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends." Dean said, sarcastically. "Look, Zack and Becky need our help." Sam said. "I just don’t think this is our kind of problem." Dean said, shrugging.

"Two places at once? We’ve looked into less, Dean." I said and he looks at me then sighs in defeat.

****

"You’re sure this is okay?" Becky asked Dean and I as we get out of the car and walk up to Zack's house. "Yeah. (Y/n) and I are officers of the law." Dean said and we walk to the house. Becky stays on the porch steps as the boys snd I enter the house and look around. The furniture and walls of the house are smeared with blood. 

"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked her. "No. I wanna help." She said and she ducks under the police tape and enters the house. "Tell us what else the police said." I said to her.

"Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about plea bargain." Becky said, tearfully, as she looks around the room, crying. "Oh, God…." She cries and Sam walks up to her.

"Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?" He asked her and she shakes her head, then begins to remember something. "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed." She said and Sam walks away.

Dean moves to the open front door and sees a dog, barking loudly. Becky and I come up behind him. "You know, that used to be the sweetest dog." She pointed out.

"What happened?" Dean asked her.

"He just changed." She replies, shrugging.

"Do you remember when he changed?" I asked her, curiously. "I guess around the time of the murder." She said as Dean and I look at her, then at each other before we walk away and over to Sam, who was in the hallway looking a framed picture.

****

"So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed." Dean said to him. "Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal." Sam said. "Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’." Dean said.

"So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" Sam asked him and Dean shakes his head. "No. Probably not." He said.

"But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure." I suggested and Sam nods. "Yeah." He and Dean said as Becky walks over to us.

"So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause we just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction." Dean said to her.

"I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cops." She said and Dean and I laugh. "I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself." She said to us. "All right." Dean and I said and we leave the house.

****

Back at Becky's parents house, we sit in the living room as she shows us the security footage. "Here he comes." She said as the tape shows Zack entering his house. "22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30." Dean said to her.

"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with." Becky said when Sam speaks up.

"Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" He asked her. "Oh, sure." She said as she gets up to go to the kitchen. "Hey." He said and she turns around. "Maybe some sandwiches, too?" He asked her.

"What do you think this is, Hooters?" She asked him but she shakes her head and smirks then leaves the room.

"I wish." Dean said as he watches her. I slapped his shoulder and he looks over at him and I give a seriously? look before I walk over to Sam.

"What is it?" I asked him as Dean comes up behind me. "Check this out." He said and be rewinds the tape, then replays it.

One of the frames shows Zack looking directly at the camera, his eyes are silver. Sampauses the tape. "Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare." Dean said.

"That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen." I said and Sam nods. "Neither have I. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul." said Sam.

"Right." Dean said.

"Remember that dog that was freakin’ out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him." I said to Dean. "Like a Doppelganger." Dean said and I nodded. "Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once." Sam said.

****

"Alright, so what are we doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean asked Sam as we get out of the Impala and head towards Zack's house. "I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin’ in, but not comin’ out." Sam said.

"So, he came out the back door?" I asked as Dean leans against the hood of his car. "Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue." Sam said. "‘Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside." I said and Sam nods.

"I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning." Dean groans and Sam and I look around the outside of the building, and notice blood smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

"Blood. Somebody came this way." I said. "Yeah, but the trail ends. I don’t see anything over here." Dean said when an ambulance drives past us, and the three of us exchange a look.

****

We followed the ambulance and observe the scene as an Asian man is handcuffed and is stepping into a police car. "What happened?" Dean asked a nearby woman. "He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her." The woman replied.

"Really?" I asked her. "I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy." The woman said as we watch the man get taken away.

****

Sam and I were on the side of the newly arrested man's house, looking around. We looks inside two garbage cans but find nothing. We move to the front of the house, when Dean comes behind us. "Hey." Dean said as we turn around. "Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?" Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam and I said.

"Definitely our kind of problem." Dean said.

"What’d you find out?" I asked him. "Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked." Dean replied.

"So, he was two places at once." Sam said and Dean nods. "Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nutjob." Dean said. "Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way." I said as I place a finger on my chin, thinking. "Could be the same thing doin’ it, too." Dean said and Sam looks at us.

"Shapeshifter?" He asked us and Dean shrugs. "Possibly." I said.

"Something that can make itself look like anyone?" Sam asked. "Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men." Dean said.

"Right, skinwalkers, werewolves." Sam said. "We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood." I said.

"Let me ask you guys this—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked Dean and I. "Not that I know of." I said as Dean shakes his head. "I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way." Sam said.

"Just like your friend’s house." Dean said.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared." Sam said. "Well, there’s another way to go—down." I said and we look down and notice a manhole.

****

Once we climbed down the manhole, we began to look around  "I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around." Sam said. "I think you’re right. Look at this." Dean said and we bend down and examine a pile of blood and skin on the ground, the three of us look at it disgusted.

"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked as Dean takes out a pocketknife and holds up some of what looks like skin. "You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds." I said, my stomach churning as I say this outloud.

"That is sick." Sam said as Dean puts the bloody pile back on the ground.

Dean opens the trunk and takes out some weapons. "Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it." Dean said.

"Silver bullet to the heart." Sam and I said and Dean nods.

"That’s right." He said as Sam’s cell phone rings. He answers it.

"This is Sam. We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out. What are you talkin’ about?" He said and Dean and I look over at him as he scoffs.

"Why would you do that?" Sam asked. "Bec---We’re tryin’ to help. Bec, I’m sorry, but—" he stammers but he has a look of disappointment as he pulls his phone away from his ear.

"I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—" Dean said until Sam turns sharply to us.

"If I was like you or (y/n)." He spat.

"Sam, like it or not, we are not like other people." I said to him, calmly. "But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks." Dean said as he holds up a gun and Sam takes it and puts it in the back of his jeans. Dean holds up another gun to me and I take it and we walk away and head back to the manhole.

****

After entering the sewer, we keep looking around with our flashlights and guns. "I think we’re close to its lair." I said. "Why do you say that?" Sam asked me.

"Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face." I said and Sam turns and sees another pile of blood and skin on a nearby pipe. "Oh, God!" He said, disgusted and we look around the area and see a pile of clothes in a corner.

"Looks like it’s lived here for a while." Dean said. "Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away with?" Sam said then he turns. "Dean! (Y/n)!" Sam shouts and we turn around when Dean gets punched by the shapeshifter. He falls to the ground, and the shapeshifter  shoves me down then runs away.

Sam and I shoot after it a few times but miss. Sam and I move over to Dean. "Get the son of a bitch!" Dean shouts and we run away, following the shapeshifter.

****

Later, we come out of the manhole and look around. "All right, let’s split up." Sam said. "All right, I’ll meet you guys around the other side." Dean said. "All right." Sam and I said and we walk away in separate directions.

I looked around as best as I could but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I turned a corner and almost bump into Sam, which made him jump and raise his gun but stops when he sees its me. "Oh, God. I almost shot you." He said, breathless. "Well thank God you didn't." I said when Dean comes up behind him.

"Hey. Anything?" Dean asked us. "No. He’s gone." Sam said. "All right, let’s get back to the car." Dean said and we crosses the street.

"You think he found another way underground?" I asked the boys. "Yeah, probably. You got the keys?" Dean asked and Sam stops and I look over at Sam as he has this thinking face. Then he turns to Dean.

"Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Sam asked him. "Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?" Dean said.

"Oh, right. Here ya go." Sam said and he throws the keys to Dean then grabs my arm and pulls me to the side.

"What?" I asked him, quietly, and he gives me a worried look. "That's not Dean." He whispers to the point he was just mouthing the words.

"You sure?" I asked, also in a whisper. He nods and said. "He caught those keys with his left hand, which is injured." My eyes widen and then I look over at Dean then back to Sam and nod at him.

We walk over to the fake Dean as he opens the trunk and observes all the weapons. "Don’t move!" I shouted as Sam and I aim our gun at him. "What have you done with him?" Sam asked the shapeshifter, angrily.

"Guys, chill. It’s me, all right?" The shapeshifter said, nervously. "No, I don’t think so. Where’s Dean?" I asked him. "You’re about to shoot him. Sam...(y/n), calm down." The shapeshifter said.

"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt." Sam said and Dean's eyes dart back and forth. "Yeah, it’s better. What do you guys want me to do, cry?" He asked. "You’re not my brother." Sam said.

"Why don’t you and (y/n) pull the trigger, then? Hm? ‘Cause you’re not sure." The shapeshifter said as he looks between us, my hand shook slightly as I start to question it myself.

"Guys, you know me." Dean said as he walks a bit closer to us. "Don’t." I threatened. The shapeshifter pauses but before I knew it, I see a flash of movement, a pain in my head before I blackout.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fandom #supernatural dean #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester #tv show fandom #tv shows #tv #fantasy

[bitethehandthatneedsme]

PLEASE stop writing sam’s stanford friends as normies… they were friends w/ SAM of all people brady, luis, jess, zak, rebecca and anyone else we don’t know about were all just a bunch of fucking weirdos who loved sam winchester!!!!!

#and stop writing them as straight too #this is not a suggestion this is a demand #while we’re at it heres my hcs for all these characters !!!!! #sam bi n nb he/they #brady gay n trans he/him #luis bi n trans they/he #jess bi n nb she/they #token het but he is trans as hell!!! he/him #thats about zak btw #rebecca lesbian demi girl she/they #sam winchester #tyson brady #jessica moore #luis supernatural #zak warren #rebecca warren #supernatural #stanford era sam #<3333

[daughter-of-sapph0]

I'm like a week late to this, but Ben Shapiro recently said in one of his videos "Stanford just said it's racist to say pocahontas. obviously, Stanford just said this because donald trump kept calling Elizabeth Warren 'pocahontas'."

uh... yeah... because that's really fucking racist. you shouldn't call people pocahontas. are you fucking nuts? how are you saying that racist name calling is good?

also, pocahontas isn't even her real name. she was born Amonute, and also used the more private name Matoaka.

as a white woman, I'm not really the person to tell you the story behind Amonute, and why calling people "pocahontas" racist. so listen to actually Native Americans and Indigenous People:

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/true-story-pocahontas-180962649/

https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2015/06/pocahontas-feminism/397190/

https://indiancountrytoday.com/opinion/stop-comparing-indigenous-women-to-pocahontas

(and yes, I know Elizabeth Warren isn't actually Cherokee. she has a small amount of Cherokee DNA according to a test, but as said by Cherokee Nation Secretary of State Chuck Hoskin, Jr., "Using a DNA test to lay claim to any connection to the Cherokee Nation or any tribal nation, even vaguely, is inappropriate and wrong". but it doesn't make trumps name calling, or Shapiro's defending it, any less racist. anti-Indigenous racism directed at Warren is still anti-Indigenous racism, because it also affects all Indigenous people)

#dostxt #racism #please let me know if I'm crossing a line #I want to draw attention to this #I haven't seen anyone really talking about this #if this is offensive #let me know and I'll delete

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Christopher F. Rufo

Published: Apr 17, 2024

Katherine Maher has a golden résumé, with stints and affiliations at UNICEF, the Atlantic Council, the World Economic Forum, the State Department, Stanford University, and the Council on Foreign Relations. She was chief executive officer and executive director of the Wikimedia Foundation. And, as of last month, she is CEO of National Public Radio.

Mere weeks into this new role, Maher has stepped into controversy. Long-time NPR senior editor Uri Berliner published a scathing indictment of the self-professed “public” media service’s ideological capture. Rather than address the substance of these criticisms—which will ring true to anyone who has listened to NPR over the past decade—Maher punished Berliner with a five-day unpaid suspension. (Berliner announced his resignation from NPR earlier today.)

But Maher has another problem: her archive of 29,400 tweets.

I have spent the past few days exploring Maher’s prolific history on social media, which she seems to have used as a private diary, narrating her every thought, emotion, meeting, and political opinion in real-time. This archive is a collection of her statements, but at a deeper level, it provides a window into the soul of a uniquely American archetype: the affluent, white, female liberal—many of whom now sit atop our elite institutions.

What you notice first about Maher’s public speech are the buzzwords and phrases: “structural privilege,” “epistemic emergency,” “transit justice,” “non-binary people,” “late-stage capitalism,” “cis white mobility privilege,” “the politics of representation,” “folx.” She supported Black Lives Matter from its earliest days. She compares driving cars with smoking cigarettes. She is very concerned about “toxic masculinity.”

On every topic, Maher adopts the fashionable language of left-wing academic theory and uses it as social currency, even when her efforts veer into self-parody. She never explains, never provides new interpretation—she just repeats the phrases, in search of affirmation and, when the time is right, a promotion.

Maher understands the game: America’s elite institutions reward loyalty to the narrative. Those who repeat the words move up; those who don’t move out.

Next, you notice the partisanship. Maher was “excited” about Elizabeth Warren in 2012. She “just [couldn’t] wait to vote” for Hillary in 2016. She once had a dream about “sampling and comparing nuts and baklava on roadside stands” with Kamala Harris. She worked to “get out the vote” in Arizona for Joe Biden but slightly resented being called a “Biden supporter”; for her, it was simply a matter of being a “supporter of human rights, dignity, and justice.”

Donald Trump, on the other hand, is a “deranged racist sociopath.”

If you read Maher’s tweets closely, you also get glimpses of the human being. She spent much of her time in airports, taxis, meetings, and conferences. She expressed anger over the fact that most first-class flyers were white men, then noted that she went straight “to the back of the bus.” In her thirties, unmarried and without children, she felt the need to explain that “the planet is literally burning” and that she could not, in good conscience, “bring a child into a warming world.”

Behind the frenetic activity and the moral posturing, you wonder. Maher once posted her daily routine, which involved yoga, iced coffee, back-to-back meetings, and Zoom-based psychotherapy. She resented being served maternity advertisements on Instagram, she said. She was not “currently in the market for a baby” and would not be “tending her ovaries” according to the dictates of American capitalism. 

Americans, even CEOs, are entitled to their opinions and to their own life decisions, of course. But the personal and psychological elements that suffuse Maher’s public persona seem to lead to political conclusions that are, certainly, worthy of public criticism.

The most troubling of these conclusions is her support for radically narrowing the range of acceptable opinions. In 2020, she argued that the New York Times should not have published Senator Tom Cotton’s op-ed, “Send in the Troops,” during the George Floyd riots. In 2021, she celebrated the banishment of then-president Donald Trump from social media, writing: “Must be satisfying to deplatform fascists. Even more satisfying? Not platforming them in the first place.”

As CEO of the Wikimedia Foundation, Maher made censorship a critical part of her policy, under the guise of fighting “disinformation.” In a speech to the Atlantic Council, an organization with extensive ties to U.S. intelligence services, she explained that she “took a very active approach to disinformation,” coordinated censorship “through conversations with government,” and suppressed dissenting opinions related to the pandemic and the 2020 election.

In that same speech, Maher said that, in relation to the fight against disinformation, the “the number one challenge here that we see is, of course, the First Amendment in the United States.” These speech protections, Maher continued, make it “a little bit tricky” to suppress “bad information” and “the influence peddlers who have made a real market economy around it.”

Maher’s general policy at Wikipedia, she tweeted, was to support efforts to “eliminate racist, misogynist, transphobic, and other forms of discriminatory content”—which, under current left-wing definitions, could include almost anything to the right of Joe Biden.

The new CEO of NPR, then, is a left-wing ideologue who supports wide-scale censorship and considers the First Amendment an impediment to her campaign to sanitize the world of wrong opinions.

Maher is no aberration. She is part of a rising cohort of affluent, left-wing, female managers who dominate the departments of university administration, human resources, and DEI. They are the matriarchs of the American Longhouse: they value safety over liberty, censorship over debate, and relativism over truth.

Each social gambit is designed for smothering the institution in ideology. Maher says that she knows “that hysteric white woman voice.” She has “done it.” And while she might not be proud of it—she is aware that she has “a big fat privilege pass”—she is willing to do what it takes to move the dictates of conventional left-wing opinion into a position of domination.

It didn’t begin at NPR, and it won’t end there.

--

==

The First Amendment being viewed as an impediment to what she wants to do, is not a good look for the CEO of a publicly (i.e. government, i.e. taxpayer) funded broadcaster.

#Christopher F. Rufo #Christopher Rufo #NPR #Katherine Maher #censorship #First Amendment

[bracketsoffear]

Not!propaganda for Not-Avatars:

The Ancestor (Darkest Dungeon): The relative of the player character who unearthed the portal and caused this whole mess to begin with. Having committed suicide some time before the game's events, he now serves as the game's narrator…although that might be the Heart using his voice. As a young man, he tried to murder The Countess at a party, then fed her blood to visiting nobles, causing an orgy of frenzied violence and turning them into Bloodsuckers. However, he accidentally ingested her blood too, granting him a vision of the Heart of Darkness beneath his manor and the horrifying true nature of the world. He began searching for forbidden knowledge, learning from the Necromancers and the Hag and hiring mariners to retrieve artifacts and relics for him. Using blood sacrifice and summoning rituals, he put dark spirits in the bodies of pigs, creating the Swinefolk that he left in the Warrens. He murdered the Necromancers and reanimated them to prove his prowess, but then the undead necromancers started raising the dead too. When the mariners demanded more pay, he hexed their anchor to drag them into the depths, then sold a village girl who had a crush on him to the Pelagics of the cove (who turned her into the Siren, their monstrous queen/breeding slave) because he wanted jewels and was bothered by her following him around. A homeless man started preaching that The Ancestor would bring doom upon the world and turned the people against him, so after multiple murder attempts failed, he lured the man to the dig site and drove him mad with the terrible truth. He also hired a band of brigands to reassert his rule through force by culling The Hamlet’s population to manageable numbers. At some point in all of this, a miller approached him for help after his crop failed, so The Ancestor lured an eldritch comet onto the miller’s land, turning everyone into crystalline abominations trapped in an endless time loop. The Ancestor finally unleashed The Heart, bringing cosmic horror to The Hamlet, and killed himself after sending a letter to The Heir asking them to come fix his mistakes. However, he may have been faking regret to string The Heir along, since he reappears in the Darkest Dungeon as the Heart’s herald (although that may have been The Heart impersonating him). Either way, his foolish quest to unearth The Heart and all of the immensely horrible things he did to everyone around him to make that happen left The Hamlet in shambles and the surrounding lands infested with all sorts of nightmarish monsters. TLDR; the living embodiment of "fuck around and find out."

Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls): A paranormal researcher who came to Gravity Falls to study the town’s anomalies, which he catalogued in three journals. He made a deal with Bill Cipher to gain the knowledge necessary to build an interdimensional portal, but realized that Bill was tricking him so he could invade Earth. Spiraling into paranoid madness, he hid two of his journals and tried to get his twin brother Stanley to hide the third, but they got into a fight that sent Stanford through the portal. He wandered the multiverse for decades searching for a way back home and the means to defeat Bill, and eventually was brought back by Stanley. He then mentored Dipper in the supernatural as he sought to stop Bill’s plans, eventually defeating the dream demon after reconciling with Stanley and headed off to go on more adventures with his brother. Understandable that he didn't make it, because Stanley was also in contention and Ford veers too much toward The Eye.

Fiddleford McGucket (Gravity Falls): A scientist who studied the paranormal activity in Gravity Falls with Stanford Pines. After being traumatized by a Gremoblin showing him his worst fear, he invented a memory eraser gun to get rid of bad memories. Fiddleford and Stanford built an interdimensional portal, but when Fiddleford was briefly dragged through it during a testing accident, he caught a glimpse of the Nightmare Realm and prophesied that armageddon would come if the portal reached its full potential. He quit the project, but was haunted by memories of his supernatural encounters and plagued by paranoia and insomnia. He continued to use the memory gun, which became an inspiration for Fiddleford to found an organization within Gravity Falls known as the Blind Eye Society, hoping to give others a similar chance at alleviating their deepest regrets and awful memories. Unfortunately, continuous encounters with paranormal entities within the town and a heavy over-reliance on his creation deteriorated Fiddleford's mind, draining him of his sanity and increasingly devolving him into a crazed and lunatic old man. By July of 1983, Fiddleford was a ghost of his former self, estranged from his wife and son and now known as the garbage-dwelling Old Man McGucket, Gravity Falls' local kook. He also started making killer robots to get revenge and attention.

The SCP Foundation (SCP): The SCP Foundation, more commonly called simply "the Foundation", is an international covert non-governmental organization responsible for the containment of anomalous objects that behave against natural scientific laws. Their operational ability is expansive, covering scientific and military fields. Their command hierarchy is headed by the Overseer Council, an enigmatic council consisting of 13 members with classified identities. The Foundation enforces The Masquerade as part of their mandate to protect the world from the abnormal using coverups and amnestics. On a good day, the SCP Foundation is a group of individuals willing to go to extreme lengths to protect the human race, and despite their coldness can show kindness to many of the sentient anomalous objects. On a bad day, the SCP Foundation is a horrendously corrupt and even inefficient organization who don't care for humanity in anything but the abstract and that can even escalate the threats they create, but still work to prevent humanity from being destroyed.

Roy (DHMIS): Yellow Guy’s father, who created the simulation that Yellow Guy, Red Guy, and Duck are trapped in. He sends Teachers to give them “lessons,” which inevitably go horribly and turn out to be thinly-veiled torture sessions, seemingly aimed at punishing Yellow Guy for the faults Roy finds in him.

Lesley (DHMIS): A live-action human, and the presumed controller of the entire TV series. She presumably lives in the attic of the house. While she does not do anything directly antagonistic, it is implied that she is the reason why the trio is seemingly trapped in the show and why random objects keep coming to life and “teaching” them about various topics--which in practice means tormenting them physically and psychologically. She also wants to keep the students from investigating the true nature of their world: she noticeably keeps Yellow Guy from investigating further into the house's reality, and if she knew in advance that returning to the first floor would risk Yellow Guy losing his batteries (and thus being unable to understand or explain what he saw), then she also deliberately played on his friendship with his roommates to trick him into heading back downstairs. She clearly does have considerable power over the world, but there are stairs leading higher than her and she seems amused/enraged at the idea that she created everything. She could almost pass for a normal kids' show host with her colorful clothes and sweet demeanor, but there's clearly something off about her. It is heavily implied that Yellow Guy is a copy of her son, who died in a car accident, which is why she’s trying to “teach” him.

The Doctor (Doctor Who): A Time Lord who, like all members of his kind, has a life span measured in centuries/millennia, some degree of psychic ability, and the ability to regenerate when near death. Unlike other Time Lords, they became bored and/or terrified by the Gallifreyan way of life when they were “young”, stole an antique TARDIS, skipped town and "never stopped running". As the series progressed, it has become the norm that any villain who recognizes who this strange individual calling themself "Doctor" is immediately browns their trousers. A number of times the Doctor themself calls attention to their identity for that effect. The Doctor remains the same person throughout their lives and maintains the same core mindset and (for the most part) memories, but different incarnations have different appearances and somewhat different personalities, being anything from an angry, grumpy, callous, arrogant, ruthless Jerk with a Heart of Gold Anti-Hero to a fun-loving, eccentric, clownish, childlike alien with an unscrupulous, manipulative streak to a dashing, charismatic, heroic Cultured Badass Ace with Insufferable Genius tendencies to a sensitive, vulnerable, fallible Gentleman and a Scholar. Consequently, different incarnations have been predisposed towards different Entities: for example, Seven seemed to be drawn to the Web, Eight was Stranger-aligned, Thirteen could be argued as aligned with The Lonely, and so on; this means that while The Doctor is adjacent to many Fears, they’ve never really been pinned down as an Avatar of any particular one. Presumably disqualified because several Doctors had been in previous brackets.

The Collector (MCU): The person with the largest collection of interstellar fauna, relics and species (including sapient ones) in the galaxy, who wants to collect all of the Infinity Stones. He has several “assistants” tending to his collection, who he tortures and imprisons as part of the collection if they don’t do their jobs well enough, to the point that one of them (who may be his daughter) disintegrates herself with the Power Stone because she’d rather die destroying his collection than live as his slave. He has immense greed for rare and precious objects and beings; for instance, he wants to collect the Infinity Stones seemingly just to own the complete set, and tells Groot “You must allow me to pay you now so that I may own your carcass. At the moment of your death, of course." While the Guardians look quite horrified when they see footage of the Power Stone being used to cause death and destruction, the Collector seems rather fascinated by its formidable power and is practically orgasmic when he sees the stone out of the Orb, even calling it "beautiful". He also has the Tivan Group conduct illegal and dangerous mining operations to collect organic materials from Knowhere.

And one more I didn't think to submit--

The Masters (Fallen London): SPOILERS FOR FALLEN LONDON: A bunch of disastrous space bats who dropped London into a cave to try and get a sufficient love letter for the Bazaar to deliver to the Sun so it’ll be able to get over being rejected by its crush. They’re an eclectic bunch of horrors ranging from “capitalist asshole who tries to get you to steal someone’s baby for it and attempts strikebreaking,” “mostly nice but sells very questionable meat,” “impersonating another Master and serial killing to get vengeance stories in order to save the Bazaar,” “hunts people for sport--and not even in the proper ways,” and “runs a murder game but that’s not so bad in the Neath because death isn’t as permanent as it should be.”

.

#asks #not!character propaganda #16th poll #fallen london spoilers #long post

[loverinali]

1 base 8 sims ✩

Hello! I've made this very fun challenge (idk who created it but thanks)

A tiktok where you can appreciate them better -> here

For practical reasons I uploaded them to the gallery only with their everyday outfits (they have cc), the rest is BGC. Their traits are chosen at random and their aspiration is one that I felt like it fit.

I hope you like them <3 | ea id - 22a20

Defaults:skin | eyes | skintones | teeth skin details: 1 | 2 eyelashes: 1 | 2

① Ellie Banks: glasses, eyebrows, freckles, pierced ears, eyeliner, blush & lipstick, hair, shirt, mesh shirt, pants, nails, shoes

② Moriah Tracy: eyebrows, moles, pierced ears, hair, eyeliner, blush & lipstick, shirt, pants, boots

③ Juliette Warren: eyebrows, blush, gloss, hair, necklace, dress, shoes

④ Laura Tovar: eyebrows, acne, eyeliner, blush & lipstick, hair, necklace, shirt, pants, shoes

⑤ Liz Evans: eyebrows, eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush & lipstick, hair, piercing, necklace, shirt, pants, shoes

⑥ Irene Stanford: eyebrows, pierced ears, eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush, lipstick, hair & glasses acc, earrings, shirt, pants, shoes

⑦ Inaya Aydin: eyebrows, blush & lipstick, hijab, sweater, skirt, shoes

⑧ Kyra Sinclair: eyebrows, freckles, blush, gloss, hair, necklace, shirt, pants, socks, shoes

A huge thank you to every creator!

#ts4 cas #ts4 simblr #simblr #the sims community #ts4cc #1 base 8 sims #sims 4 challenge #loverinali #ts4 cc list

[rockislandadultreads]

In Memoriam: Sandra Day O'Connor | 1930-2023

Out of Order by Sandra Day O'Connor

From Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, the first woman to sit on the United States Supreme Court, comes this fascinating book about the history and evolution of the highest court in the land.

Out of Order sheds light on the centuries of change and upheaval that transformed the Supreme Court from its uncertain beginnings into the remarkable institution that thrives and endures today. From the early days of circuit-riding, when justices who also served as trial judges traveled thousands of miles per year on horseback to hear cases, to the changes in civil rights ushered in by Earl Warren and Thurgood Marshall; from foundational decisions such as Marbury v. Madison to modern-day cases such as Hamdi v. Rumsfeld, O’Connor weaves together stories and lessons from the history of the Court, charting turning points and pivotal moments that have helped define our nation’s progress.

First by Evan Thomas

She was born in 1930 in El Paso and grew up on a cattle ranch in Arizona. At a time when women were expected to be homemakers, she set her sights on Stanford University. When she graduated near the top of her class at law school in 1952, no firm would even interview her. But Sandra Day O'Connor's story is that of a woman who repeatedly shattered glass ceilings - doing so with a blend of grace, wisdom, humor, understatement, and cowgirl toughness.

She became the first-ever female majority leader of a state senate. As a judge on the Arizona State Court of Appeals, she stood up to corrupt lawyers and humanized the law. When she arrived at the Supreme Court, appointed by Reagan in 1981, she began a quarter-century tenure on the court, hearing cases that ultimately shaped American law. Diagnosed with cancer at fifty-eight, and caring for a husband with Alzheimer's, O'Connor endured every difficulty with grit and poise.

Women and men today will be inspired by how to be first in your own life, how to know when to fight and when to walk away, through O'Connor's example. This is a remarkably vivid and personal portrait of a woman who loved her family and believed in serving her country, who, when she became the most powerful woman in America, built a bridge forward for the women who followed her.

Sisters in Law by Linda Hirshman

The relationship between Sandra Day O’Connor and Ruth Bader Ginsburg—Republican and Democrat, Christian and Jew, western rancher’s daughter and Brooklyn girl—transcends party, religion, region, and culture. Strengthened by each other’s presence, these groundbreaking judges, the first and second to serve on the highest court in the land, have transformed the Constitution and America itself, making it a more equal place for all women.

Linda Hirshman’s dual biography includes revealing stories of how these trailblazers fought for their own recognition in a male-dominated profession—battles that would ultimately benefit every American woman. She also makes clear how these two justices have shaped the legal framework of modern feminism, including employment discrimination, abortion, affirmative action, sexual harassment, and many other issues crucial to women’s lives.

Sisters-in-Law combines legal detail with warm personal anecdotes that bring these very different women into focus as never before. Meticulously researched and compellingly told, it is an authoritative account of our changing law and culture, and a moving story of a remarkable friendship.

American Heroines by Kay Bailey Hutchison

In American Heroines, Kay Bailey Hutchison presents female pioneers in fields as varied as government, business, education and healthcare, who overcame the resistance and prejudice of their times and accomplished things that no woman - and sometimes no man - had done before. Hutchison, a pioneer in her own right, became the first woman elected to the United States Senate from the State of Texas. Interspersed with the stories of America's historic female leaders are stories of today’s women whose successes are clearly linked to those predecessors.

#sandra day o'connor #in memoriam #history #biography #nonfiction #reading recommendations #reading recs #book recommendations #book recs #library books #tbr #tbr pile #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog #readers advisory