#dean you will not refer to me the same way you do your car

[clairenatural]

so sorry but it does throw me off when i see cas calling dean "baby"

#or babe. other pet names are eh but #i think he calls dean babe ONCE and dean is like excuse me what the fuck did you just say to me #it sounds wrong #and i think cas just does it bc he thinks that's how you're supposed to refer to the love of your life #i think he calls dean ''my love'' i think he says it in the same tone as ''you can't save everyone my friend'' #i also think he says it in multiple languages #BUT also. just ''dean'' #it's in the way he says it like nothing else could better express his love #DEAN calls cas babe though #not baby because that is the car and that's a hard boundary that cas set #dean you will not refer to me the same way you do your car #also at the beginning he was disgruntled. dean i am not an infant #but then it clicked that it wasn't another baby in a trenchcoat incident #dean also calls him lots of pet names that start off as jokes and stick :) #''good morning sunshine'' -> just sunshine as a pet name #angel as a joke that turns into something reverent and serious #honey when he's joking about being old men but maybe he WANTS to be an old man with cas #SWEETHEART. sweetheart is cute and cheesy and one of cas' favorites #also buddy (you are the love of my life) pal (please never leave me again) and man (you mean everything to me)

[sayoneee]

☆ PARENT TRAP

in which, a plan is devised to set the two of you up (1.9k)

contains: luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. baby percabeth (they are 12). percys pov. loser older brother luke castellan 🔛🔝

kashaf’s note: i think we can tell i love my music references by now. (answering requests soon!)

i. remember the time - michael jackson

PERCY HAS ALWAYS liked afternoons: sitting on the green couch in his apartment, the smell of his favorite blue cookies wafting through the air, and the constantly running episodes of gilmore girls on the tv — that you had convinced him to give a try — and sometimes the addition of grover, who was prone to start passionate tirades on climate change.

though after summer camp, his relatively quiet afternoons now included at least two mentions of “seaweed brain” and two of “wise girl”. 

percy’s trying to stay focused on rory freaking out over thanking dean for something (annabeth is almost laser-focused), but the doorbell rang a while ago, and you still haven’t returned. 

“annabeth,” he whispered, to no avail — he guessed dean really had that effect on people. he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face. she blinked twice before being lifted from the spell of gilmore girls. 

“what?” annabeth asked.

“who’s at the door?” 

annabeth’s eyebrows rose. she turned around, looking past where you were still holding the door open, one hand animatedly gesticulating, the other still on the doorknob. 

“that’s my brother,” annabeth said, turning back to look at percy. 

but percy isn’t paying attention to her right now, instead, he’s focusing on the bits of conversation audible between you and this stranger, who’s smiling very peculiarly down at you.

“— no way, me too,” the stranger is saying, grinning.

you’re saying, “deadass? prove it —” 

“— are you always so skeptical —” 

percy gets up off the couch, annabeth beside him, striding over to you and the stranger, who, for a reason he can’t quite put a finger on, seems weird. 

“hi,” percy says, looking at you, pointedly ignoring the stranger. you and the stranger seem to freeze, your hand halting mid-tuck of your hair behind your ear, something percy has only seen you do around one of your ex-boyfriends. 

“hi,” annabeth says, looking at the stranger, who smiles in response. again, weird.

“ready to go?” the stranger asks, “or are you going to take over their spare bedroom?”

“luke, you’re not funny,” annabeth grumbles, but she doesn’t look that put out by luke’s teasing percy notes. 

you’re smiling, but you’re not looking at annabeth. you’re looking at luke, your one hand still on the doorknob. interesting. 

“you’ve got your yankees cap?” you confirm as annabeth laces up her converse, as you and luke are engaged in a tiny conversation of your own. percy wordlessly hands the worn-out cap to annabeth once she’s finished, saying his goodbye.

once annabeth and her brother are long gone and you’re no longer leaning against the door, you’re still smiling widely, and percy wonders why.

ii. shoop - salt n pepa  

gilmore girls is on again, and luke is here to pick up annabeth. again. but for whatever reason, annabeth still hasn’t left, and you and luke are sitting in the kitchen, alone, conversing loudly. 

annabeth isn’t as hyper-focused on dean and rory’s argument as percy had thought she would be a week ago — he assumed that dean’s appeal died the minute he got mad in that banged-up car. annabeth is saying something about architecture, eyes shining, though he’s not sure which one she’s talking about, hagia sophia or st. basil’s cathedral. your loud laugh seems to ring from the kitchen every minute or so, and well since you’ve begun babysitting him, he can’t say the sound is unfamiliar, but the frequency is suspicious. he doesn’t trust luke. 

“annabeth,” he says, when she’s stopped talking.

“percy,” she responds in the same tone, her smile bright.

“how long has your brother been in the kitchen for?” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but missing the mark horrifically.

annabeth looks at the watch on her wrist, “woah —”

“what does woah mean?” percy knows he’s being impolite, and his mom taught him to never interrupt people, but he can’t help it at this moment. 

“i was just getting to that, seaweed brain,” annabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “we were supposed to leave an hour and half ago.”

this was bizarre. “no offense, but what does my babysitter and your brother even have in common to be talking nonstop for an hour and half?”

“no idea,” annabeth says, thoughtfully. “is she in a band? luke’s in a band.”

“no,” percy says, but he thinks he remembers your last boyfriend being in a band. “is your brother a senior?”

“yeah — does she do boxing? luke does.”

“i actually don’t know,” percy pauses, “i think we should see for ourselves,” he stands up. 

“wait,” annabeth says, “they might go quiet if they see we’re around. let’s just turn off the tv and eavesdrop.”

percy grins, annabeth was such a genius, “you got it, wise girl.” 

they’re both so silent, he wonders if you’ll notice, but with the way you’re laughing again, borderline giggling, actually — which is odd — as you say, “shut up, you know what i meant,” he doesn’t think you’ll realize. 

“erm, actually i don’t,” luke says, nasally (in what percy hopes is mockery). 

percy looks at annabeth, who rolls her eyes at him and mouths, ‘he’s being ironic’. percy stares at the patterns in the carpet, and annabeth stares at the picture of percy and his mom hung on the wall, as they continue to strain their ears — which isn’t hard because of how noisy you and luke are together.

“you’re so insufferable.”

“and you’re the one who invited me in, so.”

“i was being nice,” you sound like you’re protesting, but percy and annabeth note the amusement in your voice with another shared glance.

“you? nice? let’s be forreal.”

“i’m literally not even mean.”

“you literally are.”

annabeth peeks at him, and percy thinks he’s had enough of listening to this conversation, which is quickly becoming weird. and mushy. he can practically see how you’re looking at luke, and how he’s looking at you, which is not at all something he wants to imagine.

he nods at annabeth, and they both try to make their footsteps as loud as possible when they start approaching the kitchen, just in case. 

he’s grateful to every higher being out there when he and annabeth find you and luke in the kitchen simply sitting next to each other, no funny business involved. 

iii. doo wop (that thing) - ms. lauryn hill

you’re on the phone, giggling. annabeth is over again, and there’s no luke in sight, but percy suspects he’s on the other end of the line. 

percy sighs and turns to annabeth, who always seems to know what to do because this little situation has gotten unbelievably out of hand. 

“is that your brother on the phone?”

annabeth’s concentration on the teetering jenga tower on the coffee table lingers, doo wop (that thing) playing on the tv in the background, “yeah, i think so.”

“how do you know?” percy asks, watching annabeth carefully choose a jenga block to remove.

“they like each other,” annabeth says, looking at him, as if it’s as obvious as grass being green.

“no, they don’t,” percy pauses for a minute when annabeth raises her eyebrows at him. “how do you know?” 

“luke’s always calling her at home,” annabeth said, “and he made her a mixtape.”

“that doesn’t mean they like each other, that just means he likes her,” percy points out, crossing his arms. 

they hear you giggle in the kitchen again. annabeth looks at him as if that proves her point.

annabeth blinks, her face lighting up, “oh my god, percy, we should set them up.” 

percy stares at her. he can’t deny that for as long as he’s known annabeth, she’s seldom been wrong, but he doesn’t think this is the best idea. but, percy trusts annabeth, so he agrees.

iv. this is how we do it - montell jordan

percy’s spying on you. well, he doesn’t consider it to be spying exactly, he’s just making sure nothing happens to you because despite annabeth’s constant defense of her brother, percy still doesn’t trust luke. percy’s always thought of you more than just his babysitter, after all the attempts at making blue hot chocolate and the comforting after nightmares, you’ve turned into his sister. 

he’s at annabeth’s place now, and both of them decided to put their — what annabeth swears is fool-proof — plan into action. step number one: getting luke to invite you inside when you come to pick him up (which was so unbelievably easy, considering how luke has perpetual heart eyes when you’re around).

currently, you’re in the kitchen with luke (the two of you are always congregating in kitchens for some reason), and annabeth decided that she and percy absolutely had to keep an eye on the two of you.

you’re gasping, “luke castellan, you are such a liar.”

luke is laughing, “no i’m not.” his cheeks are red.

you’ve seemed to notice this, and percy can see your gaze soften as you look at luke, but that doesn’t stop you from making your point, “no, oh my god, you call me the mean one but here you are, talking shit about your rivals, just because they’re better?”

percy has seen you argue with your ex-boyfriends, but not like this — not bright-eyed, and smiling, and none of them have been able to just flow the way you seem to with luke. this is it, he thinks, annabeth was completely and utterly right (as she is 90% of the time). 

“you take that back right now, those motley crue knockoffs aren’t better than us,” luke says, sounding kind of angry, but percy can see his smile.

“you’re totally bugging,” you say, “what’s wrong with motley crue?”

luke looks scandalized, and almost as if he’s pleading, he says, “please tell me you’ve at least listened to guns n roses,” pushing his hands together in a namaste position.

“i don’t live under a rock, castellan,” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing his hands down. annabeth shares a look with percy.

“i mean, you never know,” he says, and you scoff, shoving him.

percy raises his eyebrows at annabeth, and she seems to know exactly what he’s thinking — time to put step two into action: set up a going-out idea.

percy and annabeth pretend to walk closer to the kitchen, to give the two of you time to spring apart, because you and luke weren’t a very pg distance right now — maybe pg-thirteen, but percy wasn’t supposed to be watching those, so.

annabeth jerks a finger at percy, as you and luke looked up at their arrival, addressing luke, “percy doesn’t believe that your band actually plays in public.”

percy’s head whips toward annabeth, trying not to glare at her, because the look on luke’s face right now was not at all amusing, but at least you were smiling, so you’d definitely stop luke from killing him.

“yeah, luke,” you say, smirking, “where do you guys even play?”

luke frowns, “the usual but we’re playing at the fair next week if you’re so interested.” the last part is aimed at percy, but their plan is going well so far, so percy doesn’t think he’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight.

“when?” you ask, interested.

percy watches luke turn to you, surprised. “saturday — why, you wanna come?”

“yeah,” you admit easily.

percy looks at annabeth, who’s smiling and percy can’t help but feel proud of their idea.

“really? we don’t go on until like seven though.”

“yeah, someone has to be there to cheer for you so you don’t feel too bad when no one else does,” you grin.

luke turns to you, masking his smile with a fake air of irritation, “gee, thanks.”

“what are friends for?”

percy shares a disappointed glance with annabeth who begins to shake her head, as luke’s smile freezes in place, and you suddenly look extremely remorseful.

time to come up with a new plan. 

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke x reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem! reader #percy jackson imagines #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan one-shot #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #mortal au #percabeth #kashaf ki likhai

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Another Classic Rock Fan

masterlist

summary : a broken jukebox leads dean to a woman who’s so much like him that she sweeps him off his feet.

pairing : (earlier seasons) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count : 1.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, violence

gif source

“Son of a bitch!” You muttered, hitting the side of the jukebox, as if that would suddenly fix the (clearly half-a-century-old) machine in front of you.

“I tried that ten minutes ago sweetheart, it doesn’t do much,” A man’s voice said behind you.

“Well, maybe you didn't hit it right!” You exclaimed, hitting it again but in a different spot.

“What song are you trying to play?” He asked.

“AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night Long. And, before you say anything; if you want a shot at getting in my pants tonight don’t you dare disrespect that band,” You replied before you finally turned around to look at the man. “Or any of the classics, while you're at it.” He was taller than you, with brown hair and light brown eyes that stared down at you. The room was dark, but you could see a smirk form on his full lips when he saw your face.

“Hey, I wouldn’t dream of it!” He held up his hands in defense. “I’m an AC/DC fan myself.”

“Favorite song?” You quizzed, narrowing your gaze.

“Trick question, they’re all great,” He shrugged a little.

“Correct,” You nodded. “List some songs though.”

“Thunderstruck, Sin City, Girls Got Rhythm, Let There Be Rock; should I keep going?”

“No, I believe you're a fan,” You laughed, letting your guard down a little.

“So baby,” He smirked, “what’s the going price?”

Your smile disappeared and you stared daggers at him. “Go to hell!” You exclaimed before you brushed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as you did so.

“Wait- That’s- Shit,” He stuttered, regretting what he said.

You turned around, a childish smile now on your face as you looked up at him; “Shot Down In Flames, nice job. You really thought I didn’t get the reference?”

“I really thought,” He laughed lightly. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” You turned back around and he followed you to the counter. You could feel him staring down at your ass and you smirked a little; you wore your jeans that accented that feature for a reason.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” He smiled when the two of you sat down. “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m Y/n, and just a beer’s fine.”

“So, is there a reason you’re alone at a bar on a Thursday night?” He asked, motioning the bartender toward you. He then ordered two beers.

“I’m in town for work, don’t really know anyone here,” You shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

“Me too, actually,” Dean responded.

“Really? What kinda work?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Would not take you for a cop,” You nodded in response.

“So, who got you into AC/DC?” He asked, wanting to change the subject.

“My mom traveled for work so my little sister and I were stuck in the car a lot. My mom loved classic rock. It’s all she ever played for us, really.”

“No way! My dad was the same way! Traveled for work, loved the classics, played ‘em for me and my little brother all the time!” He exclaimed, both of you smiling widely.

The two of you talked about nothing in particular for another twenty or so minutes, Dean making the occasional flirty joke about taking you to his motel room.

**

“Oh my god!” Sam exclaimed, covering his eyes in a hurry.

“Sam, what the hell! Knock!” Dean huffed back as you hurried to cover yourself with the sheets. Dean stood up, still wearing boxers, and you sat up in the bed.

“Wait, you’re Sam?” You furrowed your brows. “And you’re Dean. The Impala in the parking lot…shit. You’re not- You’re not the Winchesters, right?”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

You covered your face with your hands and groaned; “Oh my god! You must be working the case here! The four women drained of blood?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Dean repeated, his voice now raised a little.

“Calm down, I’m a hunter,” You sighed. “I’m here working the case too, it’s clearly a vampire!”

“You’re a hunter?” Dean affirmed.

“What, you didn’t see the anti-possession tattoo?”

“No, I definitely did,” He smirked.

You looked up at him, a smirk finding its way onto your lips as well. You stood up, holding the sheet like a towel wrapped around you. “So, why don’t we work the case together?” You said, placing an open hand on his heaving chest.

He took your face in his hands and replied, “Of course,” before he kissed you.

Sam cleared his throat obnoxiously before he exclaimed; “Four dead bodies? Possible vampire nest? Impending doom? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sammy-” Dean started.

“Come back in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You told the taller man and then kissed Dean again. Sam got out of the room in a hurry so as not to see what the quickly escalating situation would become.

**

“I’m Agent Jovi, this is my partner Agent Sambora,” Sam and Dean flashed their badges as you did the same.

“And I’m Agent Paula Stanley,” You added to Dean’s introduction. Dean looked at you as if with awe as you simply continued with the conversation. “Could you take us to the bodies, please?”

“Right this way,” The doctor replied. You followed him to the morgue, Dean’s eyes glued to your ass as you walked away.

“Dean?” Sam interrupted his train of thought.

“What?” Dean exclaimed, clearly out of sorts and still very distracted.

“God, you are a mess!” Sam joked, Dean just looked at him with confusion. “C’mon, you’re practically drooling over this girl!” He laughed lightly.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Well, she- She’s just-” Dean scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Dude, it’s okay. Just, ask her out after the case, please? We’ve got lives to save,” He patted Dean’s shoulder before they both walked into the morgue as the doctor walked out.

“Hey, does this girl look familiar?” You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at the newest vampire kill; the fifth vampire kill.

“No, does she look familiar to you?” Sam asked. He took a look at the toe tag, “Silvia Mortenson?”

“Oh my god, she was at the bar last night! I’m sure of it!”

“Did you see her leave with anyone?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh this man; he struck out with me,” You inhaled sharply, “so he went to talk to her.”

“That’s when you went for the jukebox,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah- Wait, were you watching me?” You questioned, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“I may have had my eyes on the ridiculously hot woman in the Kiss tank top,” He smirked.

“So, we know who it is. Now what, we watch him, see who he leaves with, and follow them?” Sam interrupted.

“Or, we do the smart thing,” You shrugged. The brothers looked at you with confusion. “Use me as bait, duh! I lure him out, let him take me to the nest, you two follow me and we take them down from the inside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean scoffed. You slightly tilted your head, confused. “It’s way too dangerous! You could die!”

“We’re hunters, Dean; danger and death are kinda in the job description.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean trailed off, trying to think of a way to keep you out of immediate danger.

“Yep, we’re doing this,” You nodded.

**

“I’d like to take you up on that drink now,” You smirked, sitting next to the vampire. He had offered to buy you a beer the previous night, but you turned him down.

“What, you're not leaving with Leather Jacket again?” He replied, gesturing to Dean, who sat at the other end of the bar.

“Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but let’s just say I want a real man to rock my world tonight.”

**

He led you back to his motel where four other vampires were waiting. Sam and Dean rushed in after you, but you had already beheaded two of them. Sam got one, while Dean got the other. You walked up to the last one, the one you had followed here.

“And just so we’re clear, this man,” You pointed at Dean, keeping the machete in your hand ready, “is amazing in bed!” And you chopped the vamp’s head off. You turned to Sam and Dean, all three of you splattered with blood. “What?” You asked, seeing the shocked and confused looks on their faces.

“Gotta say, that’s the craziest way a woman has ever complimented me,” Dean smirked.

“Just setting the record straight,” You shrugged, smiling.

**

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam exclaimed when Dean walked into the room.

“I’m here to pack up before we hit the road?” He furrowed his brows before Sam rolled his eyes.

“So where’s Y/n, then?”

“She’s got her own room, second floor, why?”

“Did you get her number?”

“No…?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Can you just get to the fuckin’ point?”

“Go ask her out before she leaves!” Sam exclaimed, seeing the gears in Dean’s head slowly turning before he left the room.

**

“Can I ask you something?” Dean said, standing outside your motel room.

“Sure,” You shrugged a little. You opened the door further so he could go inside.

“Why’d you say that? To the vampire, I mean.”

“About you being good in bed?” He nodded. “Well, when I was flirting with him at the bar I had to lie and say you weren’t good in bed, so I figured I’d set the record straight before killing him.”

“Oh!” He let out a bit of a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. “What are you doing here? I thought the famous Dean Winchester was all about lovin’ and leavin’.”

“That’s what I’m famous for?”

“Well, that and you know, all the incredible hunter stuff.”

“I- I’m here to ask for your number.”

“Hunter phone, or personal?” You asked. (It was pretty common for hunters to have at least two phones - one for hunter contacts and one for friends/family.)

“Personal, is what I was hoping for.”

“Okay,” You smiled.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[thelittleangel]

Little Brother

tags: Platonic! Winchester bros. x reader, platonic! Castiel x Reader, break-ups, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, male reader.

warnings: not proofread, probably OOC, break-ups, angst, references to bad mental health, the ending isn't that great.

note: I'm sorry if it's bad, I was writing this to get over a recent breakup and I thought I might as well share it.

Everything was really shitty right now.  My partner had just broken up with me.  To make matters worse, we were both in the middle of a hunt.  I drive away from the hotel to an abandoned parking lot.  I just couldn’t bring myself to look at their stupid face.  I pulled into the lot, turning the car off and crawling into the backseat.  I took off my jacket and draped it on top of me like a blanket.  Hot, salty tears began to flow down my face, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was facing the backseat.  A long-forgotten stuffed frog had been tucked under my arm and something long and heavy was covering me.  

And my car was moving.

I immediately sat up, looking at who was driving.  It was Cas.  “Hello.”  He looked at me through the rearview.  

“Your partner called.  They said you’d run off without a word.”

“Did they say why?”

His eyes turn back to the road.

“No.”

“Where are we driving?”

“Back to the bunker.  Your brothers are both very worried.”

I press the side of my face to the cold glass of the window.  Cas looks back at me through the mirror.  There’s a concerned look on his face.  “What happened?”

I looked back at him.  “I’ll tell you guys when we’re all together.”

He turns back to the road.  

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes?”

“I just want to thank you for everything you do for us.  I feel like we don’t say thank you enough.”

The side of his mouth twitched.  A small smile began to form.  

I hug the frog and fall back asleep.  

When I wake up, the car’s parked in the bunker’s garage.  I was alone in the car.  I sat up, and I realized that what was covering me was Cas’s trench coat.

I step out of the car, putting on the coat.  I began to make my way toward my room.  Today has been a long day, and I just want to lay down and forget everything.  

I’m almost there when someone comes up from behind me and scoops me up into their arms.  I let out a yelp and look up to see who it is.  Dean smiles down at me.  It’s so infectious I smile back.

“Hey, little brother.”

“Hi Dean.  Where's Sam?”

“He’s with Cas.  I’m headed that way anyway.”

He carries me to the library, putting me down so I can sit at the table.  Sam and Cas are sitting across from us.  Dean gently takes my hand in his.  Sam looks up at me with concern.

“What happened tonight?”  

I look down at my hands.

“You left someone in the middle of a hunt.  I don’t know what happened, but was it really that bad?”

“They left me.”

Sam laughed a little.  “From the way we heard it, you left them.”

“No, they broke up with me.”

My eyes began to sting.  Tears began to run down my face.

“Oh…”

I can’t look up at them.  I know that if I do, they’ll look at me with that same expression of pity my ex had when they started this whole situation.

No one says a word.  Then Dean wraps his arms around my shoulders.  Sam takes my hands.  Castiel places a hand on my head.  We sit like that for a long time.  Honestly?  I still want to go to my room, where no one can look at me with that same heart-breaking expression.  

“Can I go to my room now?”

 Sam looks into my eyes, a soft smile on his face.  “No.”

My face contorts into a look of confusion.  “What do you mean no?”

Dean looks down at me with a sad smile.  “Little brother, we all know you well enough to know that if we let you go back to your room, you’ll disappear for two months.”

“And we can’t have that.” Sam adds.

Castiel looked down at me, his fingers still running through my hair. “I’m very sorry that this has happened to you.”

I look down at my hands.  “Yeah.  Me too.”

I stand up, handing Cas’s coat back to him.  I slowly began to walk to my room.  I was almost there when Dean called out to me.

I turn to look at him. “Yeah?”  

“Get a shower and change into some comfortable clothes.  Meet us in the Dean cave when you’re ready.”

I look at him with a confused expression, but he just smiles and walks away.

30 minutes later, I’m headed back downstairs.  I open the door to the Dean Cave and walk inside.  Sam, Dean and Cas were already there.  All wearing pajamas, which was surprising because I didn’t know Cas owned a pair of pajama pants.

There were bowls of snacks on the table, and my favorite movie was playing on the T.V.  

Sam looks up at me as I open the door.  He smiles, standing up.  As I look around the room, I wonder aloud, “Guys, what’s all this?”

“Well, we wanted to make sure you knew you were loved.”

We sat down on the couch and watched the movies.  We talked and laughed until the sun came up.

As I walked back to my room, I smiled to myself, and I realized that I'll be alright.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #castiel x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #male reader

[crazyforbarbatos]

Obey Me x Supernatural: The demon brothers see a ‘67 Chevy Impala parked out front of a café while they’re in the human world with you

A/N: I’ve been holding onto this idea but only wrote it recently. I hope you enjoy regardless. (Also referring to Belphie’s part, I am aware that Sam & Dean have lived, died and have been revived/brought back several times).

Context: You’re the sibling of the Winchesters

He knows exactly what it means when their car was parked somewhere. To him, he knew that they were looking for something far more dangerous than he’d like to admit. And from the look on your face, you knew it too.

“Y/N, let’s head back. I’m sure Diavolo is waiting for us to return.”

Even if he didn’t openly admit it to you, be wanted to keep you out of harms way. And as he loved you dearly, he would ask Mammon & Beel to watch your brothers from a distance in case anything went wrong. He knew what it was like to lose a sibling, so he didn’t want you to lose the only ones you had.

His first instinct was to get you the hell out of there. There was no telling what kind of thing your brothers were doing. Yes, he knew you were a hunter too but he needed to keep you safe. And Sam & Dean seemed to feel the same way. He would especially want to leave quickly if he felt like something was really off.

He probably doesn’t notice right away. It’s only when he hears you brothers arguing when he realizes it’s them. He hoped that they didn’t see him. Both of them had this insatiable need to tease him about you. His heart would almost explode from the questions they asked.

“Levi! Did you know that they’ve read TSL? Dean seems to be quite a fan of it. However he hasn’t watched it yet-”

“I’m envious of him. What I’d give to watch it again for the first time.”

“I was thinking we could invite them over for a TSL watching party? If you’d be okay with that. I promise that they’d be on their best behaviour.”

“What are they doing here?”

“Probably another case. Would you like to go over?”

Naturally he would be so excited as he loved to hear stories of the cases that your brothers had been on. It was so fascinating. And any chance he got to help them out, he would.

“Y/N! Let’s go say hello to your cute brothers!”

He could never resist talking to them whenever they were around. Dean was so handsome and gruff while Sam was sweet and smart. Clearly the good looks ran in your family. And despite his need to fawn over him, you and he both knew that you were the one he loved the most.

“They’re on a case, Asmo.”

“So? All the more to go see them!”

He would probably go with you to talk to Sam & Dean. That and he’d want to tell Dean about this new pie shop. He wouldn’t really ask what they were up to, but he’d at least advise them to be careful. They were still human after all, not invincible.

He doesn’t think too much of it honestly. Cool. You’re brothers are over there at the café with their fake badges and fake names, chasing dangers that would eventually get them killed. And yet the very “monster” that you chose to chase was him, and he had killed you once upon a time. But he regretted it every single day since. He was just lucky enough to have you alive once again. But these monsters your brothers were chasing, they had no remorse whatsoever. And chances are, they wouldn’t have someone like Barbatos to go back in time to fix things.

#obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x supernatural #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x rader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐋 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟔

Summary: When Y/N needs help on a hunt, she doesn't expect Bobby to send Dean Winchester to her. Now the two must work together to solve the case and Dean has to deal with Y/N's sarcastic and biting personality, that maybe he likes a little too much.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: none, i think. Just some kissing and a mention of sex

Word count: 1657

Series

"I'll have it engraved on my tombstone" she joked, referring to Dean's words, offering him a hand to hold on to pull himself up. Then she went back to hugging her other arm to her chest.

The leather of her jacket was torn, her shirt was stained with blood and not from the monster she just killed.

"Are you okay?" They they both asked at the same time.

"Well, I'm fine, thanks for asking!" a voice exclaimed from behind them, before either of them had a chance to answer. Michael, now walking towards them, didn't seem to have a single scratch but looked kinda upset.

Dean laughed at the sight of the shocked but visibly pleased to be alive man as he shrugged off the beast's slobber in disgust.

"We'd better bring him home." suggested Dean playing with the dog-like head on the ground, rolling it under the sole of his boot, just as if it was a soccer ball.

They burned the second body too and got in the Impala again, leaving behind the silent lake and the wood where only the sound of nocturnal birds could be heard.

During the journey almost no one spoke, probably too tired to say anything. A song on the radio kept him company on the way.

"There we go." Dean said as he parked and the three got out of the car.

"What will you do now?" Y/N asked Michael.

"What do you mean?" He said frowning, probably wondering what was yet to happen to him after everything he'd been through over the past few days.

"You know, many people become hunters after finding out the existence of the supernatural world." Dean explained.

Michael watched the two as they exchanged a knowing glance and burst out laughing. They were making fun of him.

Michael sighed. "I can't believe it's really all over. Thank you guys." For the first time in days he seemed really calm.

"Don't worry, that's what we do." Dean said before gasping in surprise when the man hugged him. "God, I'm so glad to be alive." He mumbled when Dean patted him on his back, before walking over to Y/N and extending his hand. It was probably some kind of peace sign and maybe he was even trying to apologize for running off and putting everyone in danger.

"Thank you for saving my life." Michael said as she grabbed his hand, shaking it.

"Hey, I almost died to save your ass, you don't even hug me?"

"I don't know if I can, you still scare the shit outta me." He laughed as she pulled his hand towards her and wrapped the man in a quick hug. This time it was the man to be surprised.

"Take care." She added before he walked towards his house and waved at them with his hand when he reached the threshold.

"Aw, you will miss our new little friend, isn't it?" Dean joked as they got back into the car.

“Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes. Dean glanced at her hiding an amused smile. Annoying her would always be his favorite hobby.

"Let's go back to the motel" She murmured, exhausted, leaning her head on the seat and closing her eyes.

Dean and Y/N soon returned to the motel, more tired than ever. The only thing their eyes could see at that moment was the only bed in the center of the room, the one they had slept on for an entire week.

"That's why the dogotter killed those people," Dean thought out loud, as he slipped off his jacket and abandoned it on a chair. "He wanted to protect his.. son. Or daughter maybe. I'm not sure, I paid no attention to their sexual attributes as they tried to eat me alive."

"Very noble for a monster," Y/N joked, sitting down in front of the table in the corner of the room, pulling her emergency kit out of her bag.

"Let me help you." Dean said sitting down next to her. He disinfected the bite on her arm which had now stopped bleeding with hydrogen peroxide and then bandaged the wound. It didn't need stitches and it wasn't too deep, she was lucky.

Dean felt watched as he worked on her arm but never looked up to see if he met the girl's gaze. He decided that he would just enjoy the silence that had fallen between them.

"Thanks," Y/N murmured when he finished.

"Anytime" he replied, glancing at her quickly, starting to get up and then being pushed back down by the girl next to him. Her steady hand was on his shoulder.

"Hey, what-" He didn't have time to finish the sentence as she placed her hands on both side of his face and pushed him into a kiss.

Dean really wanted to say "finally" but it would have meant breaking away from her lips, so for once he stayed quiet as he entered his tongue into her mouth and pushed her against the mattress, causing her to end up with her back completely pressed on the bed.

"Dean," she said after a while, probably breaking the kiss when her lungs needed air.

"What?" he asked without moving away from her.

"You smell like shit," she said with a laugh, her lips slightly redder than usual.

"Oh c'mon, do you always have to ruin the best moments?" He said pressing his lips against hers one last time.

"Go to take a shower, I won't sleep next to you if you smell like that." She said as she indicated the door with a nod of her head, then sitting down on the bed to be able to take off her shoes still dirty with damp soil and the creature's blood.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not coming with you. I'm too tired to have sex right now. Now go, I promise not to spy on you through the keyhole."

"There's no keyhole on that door, Y/N," he pointed out, now with a slight smirk on his lips.

"And that's why I won't spy," she smiled even more, leaning back on the bed.

Dean shook his head in resignation, taking his things and disappearing into the next room. It wasn't his lucky day.

After some time, when Dean came out of the bathroom half naked, he expected to hear some ironic comment, instead he found Y/N sleeping with her head buried in the pillow and her mouth slightly open.

He couldn't help but smile as he got under the blanket and pushed her body against his with his arm.

It was a good feeling.

"Goodnight sweetheart." He said, sure he didn't wake her up.

"Goodnight love." She replied instead.

The night passed quickly, or at least that was Dean's impression. He was so tired that sleeping until the sun came up felt like closing his eyes for a few minutes. However, he was sure for the whole time they had slept he had kept Y/N's body pressed against him and every time he moved even a few inches, she sought out his body and repositioned herself close to him.

It was nice to see her like this, to see her trust him and let her guard down.

He hadn't had a single nightmare and he liked to think it was thanks to the girl who had slept curled up next to him.

In the morning, they packed their bags, checked that they hadn't left anything in that room, then closed the door behind them and returned the key to the owner of the motel.

Dean shuffled over to the Impala, one bag slung over his shoulder and the other held tightly in his left hand. He opened the trunk and looked around: it was better to make sure there were no people around before opening it.

He arranged the weapons together with the others, abandoned the second bag and then closed the trunk.

"So what now?" Y/N asked walking up to Dean with her hands in the back pockets of her black jeans.

"Now we go get Sammy. And we'll wait until we find another case to solve together. I'm sure Bobby and Sam have found millions already."

"Together?" she asked with a smirk.

"Of course, do you expect to get rid of me that easily? You kissed me first, now you're stuck with me."

She laughed as she slowly walked up to him. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure you didn't like it at all."

Dean captured her lips in a quick kiss, "Honestly? Not really. But we can try again" he replied before leaning towards her again.

When they finally parted, after a few glares from the people passing by, Dean got into the Impala and she into her old pick-up parked next to Baby.

"I'm sure I could beat you!" She said rolling down the window of her car as Dean did the same, alluding to a race to see who could get to Bobby's house first.

"Beat me? Please." Dean laughed as he turned on the radio, started the engine and drove away.

"Hey! I didn't say "go!" the girl yelled with a laugh as she hurried to catch up with him.

Those two really were a weird couple, maybe that was why they worked so well together.

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan @xoxokiaraaxoxo

Series: @stitchintimefan @foxxymunson @sagexcandles @deans-spinster-witch @raisinggray @globetrotter28

#dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean fic #dean winchester fic #spn fic #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

[girlreviews]

Review #263: Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman

You don’t get artists like Tracy Chapman come along too often, and it’s infuriating when they do, because you see the same old shit play out. People are threatened by their mere presence and the idea that they can make something so incredible, but especially that it might give marginalized people a voice. This record came out the year I was born, so it’s approaching its 36th birthday. It’s both unsurprising and also a little devastating at how relevant it remains in 2024. I’ll start by saying: I love it, her, I always have, and I have so many memories attached to this record. Some so sad and some really sweet, all really tender.

But I have something to say about both music critics and general white fragility when it comes to Tracy. Here’s a 1988 review from renowned critic Robert Christgau, self proclaimed “Dean of American Rock Critics” (are American rock critics some kind of authority too? Why’s that? Interesting.):

"Fast Car" is so far-seeing, "Mountains o' Things" so necessary, that it's doubly annoying when she puts her name on begged questions like "Why" and "Talkin' Bout a Revolution." Maybe I should be heartened and so forth that Intelligent Young People are once again pushing naive left-folkie truisms, but she's too good for such condescension--even sings like a natural. Get real, girl. B MINUS”

Where to begin? Firstly, that is the entire review. So you want to talk about condescension, Robert? You can start by referring to Tracy Chapman as a grown woman, which she is, and was, in 1988. And critic you may be, but you’ve never written a review that’s even half as good as Talkin’ Bout A Revolution, which is more relevant today than any of your writing. Why was about apartheid. Maybe you had the luxury of not giving a fuck. Assigning grades? B minus? Get real, boy.

Curious what grade you gave Paul Simon’s Graceland, an album recorded during apartheid, some in South Africa with an array of African musicians who he then toured with. This was both criticized and praised. The point is, it was very political, not in content so much, but in creation. So, when it’s done by an egotistical white man? Listen, I love Graceland but don’t think I won’t be looking into that with some serious side-eye. OH WHAT A FUCKING SURPRISE, PAUL SIMON’S 1986 GRACELAND RECEIVED AN A. Fuck all the way off, and then fuck off some more.

This album isn’t for you. Has it ever occurred to you that not every piece of music was made to be consumed by you? And to be declared worthy by you? Jesus fucking Christ, the audacity. She’s singing about poverty, the kind most people will never truly know. The traumatic kind. She’s singing about domestic violence, you know, the kind typically perpetrated by men against women and that too often takes their lives. She’s singing about a tense relationship with the police. She’s singing about escaping dire situations with a glimmer of hope that she might finally belong, that she might finally “be someone”… Only to find herself in seemingly just as dire ones. Do you relate, Robert? Let’s go back to 1988 and you just sit this one out. To be clear, it’s not entirely for me either! But when you have that awareness, you can hear something and still appreciate it. It’s not that hard.

Fast Car was still on the radio a good bit when I was growing up, and again, I think my Mom played this record from time to time. But my real connection to Tracy Chapman came to me in two different ways: VH1’s Pop Up Video, which I watched every single day before I went to school. Over and over, the same episodes. There was an episode that featured Fast Car, and I remember just being floored by the little facts that popped up. Her life had been so unbelievably difficult, with challenge after challenge — which is pretty damn clear in the song. The thing I always remember is that as a young girl, she had saved up her money to buy a guitar, and then her best friend stole it. As stupid as it sounds I think about that all the time. Anyway, this song is special, and everyone knows it, it’s massive, but it’s something different to everyone. Can anyone relate specifically to what she’s describing? Probably somebody, somewhere. Maybe lots of people. But I can tell you that I listened to this song curled up in my bed pretending to be asleep with tears streaming down my face. Wishing that some parts of it weren’t true for me, and wishing that some parts of it were. It’s both a gut punch and a cup of tea between my cold hands.

The second way was Baby Can I Hold You, which, and this kind of cracks me up, was covered by Irish boyband Boyzone in the 90s. Little baby me was pretty into Boyzone, but eventually learned that the original artist was Tracy Chapman. Obviously, her version is better. It hurts my feelings. Is it someone declaring their feelings? Or is it someone communicating the experience of an emotionally unavailable partner, and the words they long to hear? Either way, there’s an ache in it, and it’s beautiful.

Tracy Chapman has been having a major resurgence, because a white male country artist covered Fast Car and as a result an entire new generation of young people are being moved by it. While I kind of wish there wasn’t a cover like this at all, it’s been nice to see Luke Combs give Tracy Chapman the spotlight she deserves and make it her moment. They seem to have a sweet and thoughtful relationship, and he truly loved the record when it came out. He had it on cassette. It was really something to see Tracy on stage at the Grammys smiling, thriving, looking beautiful as ever and singing with that voice just shutting everybody the hell up. I also appreciate that he kept the genders the same in his cover. I’d love to know whether he chose that or whether she insisted upon it. Either way, it was the right call.

Chances are you’ve heard Fast Car, and maybe even Baby Can I Hold You. Don’t be a dweeb, this record is significant and I really believe you’re missing out if you go through your life without listening to it, but it’s your call. I’d like to personally thank Tracy Chapman and VH1’s Pop Up Video for their contributions to my life and the content of my brain. I love you both so very much.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #tracy chapman #fast car

[mlobsters]

supernatural s5e13 the song remains the same (w. sera gamble, nancy weiner)

sometimes forget they banged in the impala, but then i'm like why is dean being so soft and familiar with her? oh right. anyway, kind of sweet this little interaction in dean's pg-13 stripper dream.

when he wakes up, there's a little chime that sounds just like a doorbell that's been muffled (in my house specifically to try to keep it from waking up a sleeping infant). anyway, the sound design on the original score is rarely very creative, kudos to them. startles the shit out of me every time, but good job on something interesting

ANNA Sam Winchester has to die.

this surely is going to end well for all parties involved.

there was a boy in my high school who had a fucking gorgeous late 70s black pontiac firebird trans am, god the rumble on its engine was delicious. i think i somehow got a ride somewhere with him at one point. he was a cute and smart boy but honestly the car was it.

DEAN So, what, you're like a Delorean without enough plutonium?

CASTIEL I don't understand that reference.

tell him, cas! i just complained about the number of references they use in this show a few episodes ago

cas sure folded like an ugly tan trench coat. "i should go alone" dean: "🥺" ok zap

SAM He's breathing. Sort of.

the line about buying microsoft stock reminds me when i was in middle school i think? there was a project where you had to "buy" a stock and then track its price in the newspaper over some number of days/weeks. imagine that. using the newspaper to check stock prices. ~it was the 90s~

all right so wasn't cas's point back when dean met mary to begin with that you can't change destiny? so isn't this all moot? when does #TeamFreeWill become a thing

JOHN Shut up, all of you! Look, not another word, or so help me, I will turn this car around!

DEAN Wow. Awkward family road trip.

SAM No kidding.

just like home, right, guys?

he reminds me of a combination teen wolf derek (tyler hoechlin) superman (henry cavill variant). one tv superman+one movie superman=young john winchester

SAM Pretty much forever. My dad raised me in it.

JOHN You're serious? Who the hell does that to a kid?

SAM Well, I mean, for the record, Mary's parents did.

JOHN I don't care. You know, what kind of irresponsible bastard lets a child anywhere near—you know, you could've been killed!

SAM I, uh...came kind of close.

JOHN The number it must've done on your head...your father was supposed to protect you.

laughing out loud. i'm sorry sera and nancy, i will always appreciate any and all john winchester shade, and especially unknowingly delivered by john winchester -- but i believe 0.00% late 70s generic straight white man has the emotional intelligence for this thought process / willingness to speak on it / willingness to talk shit about someone's father (a stranger no less) to their face

and i do not appreciate that it caused sam to come rushing to john's defense. gross child neglect, bro. y'all wrote this story and you gotta live with the consequences of how horrifyingly awful of a parent you made him be. just say no to the rehabilitation of john winchester

DEAN You have no other choice. There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we're okay with it, I promise you that.

have they talked about this? they're both totally chill with never existing??

DEAN Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome.

oh, well. there you go

MARY Ohh...quite a kick there. Troublemaker already. It's okay, baby. It's all okay. Angels are watching over you.

so did michael scrub her brain but also leave some pro-angel bias in there? she said there's no such thing previously about angels. just how much did he scrub? i wonder how much is retcon and how much was actually planned. i imagine i could find the answer if i looked but i kind of like consuming this show in my little bubble the way i do. also, effort

#supernatural #spn 5x13 #spnwatch #john winchester #mary winchester #team free will #sera gamble #nancy weiner

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 8, Part 1 ("The Inns and Outs of Inns")

I'm skipping past the second half of the previous episode (I really couldn't think of anything interesting to say about it. It was that whole thing where Rory and Paris get initated into The Puffs, and the Mother/Daughter Fashion Show). You can read my previous reviews here.

This lady held out her cup for a refill. Jess looks down at the mug and walks right past her. I found his terrible customer service inexplicably delightful. I'd say she was gonna stiff him out of a tip for that move, but no one in Stars Hollow tips anyway.

Jess: It's 7:45 am, do you want me to go to school or openly defy child labor laws? Idk, I think you should have a word with the Walmart corporation first, the place hired a 17 year old to drive a forklift during school hours. Luke: Stay out of trouble. Jess: Guess that means calling off the chickie run down at the salt flats. What in the everliving hell does that even mean? What teenager talks like that in 2001, the Year of our Lord? Damn you, AmyShermanPalladino. *sighs deeply*. *Opens Google* "A chickie run is a high-speed drag race toward the edge of a steep bluff above the ocean using stolen cars." It's apparently a reference to the movie Rebel Without A Cause with James Dean. Well, I learned some pointless new information today. Thank you, Mr Mariano. You may not serve customers their coffee but you do serve up hot steaming cups of old timey references. Lorelai and Sookie: We're coming up with names for the new inn. Michel: How about the Money Pit? The Outhouse? The Inn Headed for Bankruptcy?

Heh heh.

I only recall seeing a police car in Stars Hollow two other times (when Kyle's party got busted up and the time Jess comes back in season 4 and gets pulled over? Am I forgetting anything?). Here's the big emergency that called the mythical, rarely seen Stars Hollow Police into town. Spoiler alert: It was some chalk.

And now this pathetic town of bored people with nothing better to do are going to call an emergency meeting over some chalk. Taylor is fa-reaking the fuck out.

Taylor: I've got a dead body outside of my store! Sheriff: No, you have a chalk outline in front of your store.

Sheriff: My partner's out doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then, just hang tight. Let me remind you how many people live in Stars Hollow. Sometimes it may seem like you only see the same 15 people over and over, but the mind can play dirty tricks on you.

Yes Taylor, just hang tight for a few minutes while one police officer does a head count of nearly 10,000 people. A police officer going around counting people to see if anyone happens to be dead is one of my favorite bits of absurdity in the entire show. 30 seconds later:

Golly that was fast!

Heh heh heh. It is a pretty stupid prank. I think most of Jess' pranks are amateur at best. I believe in his potential. He could come up with something way better. The people of Stars Hollow deserved to be Punk'd for how they treat him. I give this one an A though, because it pissed everyone off so thoroughly, and that's all that matters.

Gilmore Girls wardrobe department: LAYERS! MORE LAYERS, DAMN IT! Wardrobe Assistant: He's in a shirt under a shirt under a vest! I cannot layer anymore! *cries*

Sooo purdy.

Luke jamming a screwdriver into a toaster is highly erotic.

It goes without saying that from here on out we are going to be pausing often to admire screen shots of Jess with absolutely no context. Tomatos Sign: Spotted

Oh, we haven't gotten to the part where Jess murders Shane and dumps her body in the lake. We'll get to that in season 3. In my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, there could be several justified homicides. For one example, it's canon that Luke never throws Taylor off a bridge, so my reboot would seek to correct this.

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY LET HIM SULK AND LURK What the hell else is there to do in Stars Hollow anyway? The image of Jess of visiting an arts and crafts store is pretty hilarious.

What the hell is AmyShermanPalladino's obsession with swans? "Swans scream one thing, Mom. Sigfried and Roy." Ah yes, another fine early 2000's tasteless "gay" insult. Luke & Lorelai are discussing the grave consequences of missing or even being late to a town meeting. To which I say, if Taylor threatens you, just tell him you're gonna squeal to the Feds about all of his shady financial crimes. That'll shut him right up.

He's been in town for like what, a week and he's already a "situation". I think that's awesome. Your mere existence on this Earth is so powerful that you've thrown an entire community into disarray. Good for you, baby. Good for you.

May I remind you again they are calling this community meeting because of some chalk. "When Mrs. Lanahan couldn't buy lettuce from my store, she drove straight to Woodbury instead." You know what, I just gotta bide my time and let the nutcase rant, because Walmart will eventually drive him out of business for good and in a double scoop of justice, I have faith that he'll also be taken down for his money laundering crimes.

This committee of 85 year olds will seal Jess Mariano's fate. It looks like Hell's waiting room. Jess loves a good town meeting because it's the only time he gets to stay home and whack off in private. Luke tries to give Taylor $1 for a head of letuce (actually, first he asks "how much is a head of lettuce?" which is something he should know if he's running a diner, but I digress. "The CHARGES against your nephew are numerous!" Let's hear them, shall we? He stole the "Save the Bridge" money. But Taylor was going to launder that money, what will he do now? He stole a gnome from Babette's garden. He "hooted" one Miss Patty's dance classes. Please try to imagine Jess ever "hooting" a woman (uhh, she means catcalling...I guess? I could see him calling out some sarcastic quip/witty observation though. He took a garden hose. Why Jess? Why? How did they know he did it? What did he intend to do with it? Where did he keep it? With the 500 baseballs he stole from the school? He set off the fire alarms at school last week. This is a more serious prank that would have gotten him in big trouble if he was caught. And again, Lane and Dean go to this school. Hello? I know at this point Jess and Rory don't know each other well, but that's still major gossip, so why are Rory's boyfriend and best friend always keeping this stuff from her? I am Jess Mariano's defense lawyer and every last thing my client does to annoy the citizens of Stars Hollow is justified. Lorelai, sarcastically: I heard he controls the weather and wrote the screenplay to Glitter** (**a movie starring Mariah Carey that came out in 2001 and is regarded as one of the worst movies of all time and was a box office bomb and possibly the biggest blight ever on MC’s career). You know, Lorelai is being sarcastic by saying she thinks Jess controls the weather but she hates him so much I wouldn't put it past her that she actually believes that. I mean, she already believes that the sun shines out of Dean Forrester's ass. Bootsy: I never like the look of that kid, I knew he was bad as soon as I saw him. AGAIN HE'S BEEN HERE FOR LIKE A WEEK. The subject of the meeting turns from Jess to piling onto Luke for no good reason, and my man Lucas is just about to burst a blood vessel defending himself and Jess from these nutjobs. I honestly couldn't love him more. He's so REAL. Please don't stroke out on us, we need you. Taylor: "There is a consensus among all the towns people that Stars Hollow was a much better place before Jess got here." Kindly go to hell, Taylor Doose.

Dean spending two days on his hands and knees scraping Jess' prank from cement is a beautiful kind of justice. Edit: A commenter made me wonder how Jess made his artwork stick to the cement. Off to Google I went once again. Apparently you can use hairspray to set chalk art, but professional chalk artists use high grade varnishes to set their designs. Jess never half-asses anything. He puts his whole, cute little ass in. You also have to wonder how in a town full of unemployed busy bodies with nothing better to do than notice everything that goes on in town right down to when Rory Gilmore farts, not a single person heard or saw any of this happening. Lorelai fretting that the Independence will be sold to a corporate hotel chain is realistic and it would inevitably happen in my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow. The Independence Inn would become a Holiday Inn, Luke's would become a Starbucks, Doose's would become a Walmart, and Dean Forrester's house would be a parking lot after a meteor crashed through the roof.

Someone should bash your head in with a safe.

Never in the history of mankind has a single individual sown so much havoc with a single stick of chalk.

Every time I look at that wool jacket lining I feel super itchy.

The captions should really say "okuh", and not "okay." Because that was a stellar "okuh". Get it right. Just another injustice perpetuated against Jesstopher Mariano.

Oh, she did. To be continued in Part 2 so I can add more screen shots.

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #jess mariano #denise rewatches gilmore girls #literati #Gilmore Girls Season 2 #The Inns and Outs of Inns

[laf-outloud]

I hope it's okay to vent to you here about this.

I only now watched the panel from last weekend's con and I just have such a distaste for Jensen these days. The Portuguese buns joke was just gross to me. Especially when he added to it by asking if anyone there was Brazilian? Way to reference your ex-gf in such a male gaze way, pal. Like I get that Jared made the same joke too and it was just a joke, but why make it blatantly obvious that he's talking about his ex-gf? Which is beyond weird given the circumstances. It almost reminded me of that tasteless and tone deaf Brendan Fraser joke he made when with Jeffrey Dean Morgan in that NJ panel. His overgrown frat boy is showing. Not to mention all we have learned about his attitude towards other people working on a set, his or someone else's, ever since the Rust interview, what the Winchesters cast and crew were forced to endure during shooting, and now this lawsuit.

Then his answer to the gift question just made me roll my eyes. I get that these guys are essentially putting on a show at these cons and we don't know how they are privately, but sometimes the whole Jensen being a grumpy dad thing just leaves him looking like an ungrateful jerk. I also know this was a joke but why does he always have to take a potshot at his kids? I don't get it. In what way is that entertaining? And why do AA's eat this shit right up? I can't have kids so maybe it's a touchy point for me but do you know how grateful I'd be to get any kid's drawing never mind my own? Kids aren't trying to be the next Picasso. They're making those drawings for you because they love you and want to make you something. I get he's joking and most likely embellishing for entertainment's sake but that just came off to me as him being an ungrateful asshole, just like the race car story.

Ever since that very entitled story, my opinion of him has sunk lower and lower. I don't know what's going on with him. I don't know if it has to do with the whole Soldier Boy and Dean branding, trying to emulate some mix of the two but holy crap I am so over him acting like an asshole. The grumpy persona is extremely tired and off-putting, except to AA's who only see him for his looks. He could be cursing them out or punching someone out and they wouldn't care as long as he looks good doing it.

I saw a video the other day of him at a con with Jared from 2014 I think it was. What a vast difference. Perhaps in his private life he's much different but how he's been acting publicly recently leaves a very bad taste in the mouth. In comparison, Jared seems way more grateful, a lot happier, and kinder I would even say. Like I said, maybe Jensen is different privately but publicly he has become a major dick. That's very disappointing and like I said off-putting. I've tried to continue being a fan of both guys and be supportive of them separately and together, but with the things he's said lately, Jensen is making it awful hard to continue.

It's just disappointing and really reminds you that no matter how they act publicly, like once upon a time this guy acting humble and gracious and down to earth and grateful for every opportunity that's been given to him, you never really know who they are. It's just so massively disappointing. Thanks for letting me vent to you here.

My blot is always open to venting. Vent away, anon!

To be honest, I didn't really connect Jensen's bun story with his ex from over 20 years ago. If he was, yeah, it's crass, and it would certainly fall in line with so many of his other crass jokes/stories. I'm on your side when it comes to being tired of his grumpy/frat boy persona.

Part of me thinks the de-evolution of his public persona is a coping strategy for hiding how lost/uncertain he is with his career (and possibly his personal life). Like, he has to create a character of himself in order to hide any vulnerabilities. But at the same time, you wonder how much truth there is in that personality because it shows up in other cases where he's not putting on a show (like the police interview).

(It could also be that he no longer has Jared around to inspire him to be a better person which may be why he seemed so much nicer in those earlier cons. Some people tend to adopt the traits of those they're most around.)

Whatever the reason, it is disappointing to see and I understand your frustrations. It's hard to be a fan of someone who is no longer the person you thought they were. I hope venting helped a bit and I wish you the very best!

#ask box #anti jensen #insecure jensen #because that's what it looks like #insecurity covered up by a false ego

[serasvictoria]

Title: Show of Strength

Pairing: Eddie Munson & Female Reader

Summary: Hawkins has gone to hell in a handbasket and you might just be having what is quickly becoming the worst night of your life. Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

Word Count: 7832

Content Warning: Language. Injuries and taking care of said injuries. Bad relationship with a parent (I don’t know if that’s something that needs a warning and it doesn’t get too bad, but better safe than sorry).

Notes: I first started writing this about a half an hour after seeing the last episode of S4, because stuff desperately needed to be fixed in my opinion. I’m actively rejecting what we were given and this is my take on an alternate version.

This is the same Reader insert as I used in Spellbound, but it is in no way to necessary to read that story first. I think that this works as a stand-alone as well.

Beta read by the lovely @adrille88, who had to change everything to the American spelling because I always write in the British spelling 🤣 Thanks again! Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @quantumlocked310 @punkrocknpearls @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

*****

Your mom was yelling at you to just pack your things and get into the car.

“But why?” You were still putting things back where they belonged. You were currently holding a broken statue of a sausage dog that you’d had since you were a kid, wondering if you might be able to glue it back together. It wasn’t that you had particularly liked it, but you were nothing if not sentimental. “Because of an earthquake?”

The quake hit about two hours previous. You could still hear the sirens off in the distance and could see the smoke that was painted orange from the flames billowing up into the sky in the city center whenever you looked out the window.

Some of the neighbors who had gone downtown to check on their family and friends, had come back looking terrified, lost, heartbroken and many other different things. They all looked like they had just witnessed the end of the world and that scared the crap out of you.

Bridget, a woman who was in your mother’s book club and who lived five doors down, had come back looking like she was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. Your mother had tried to speak to her, but it was like Bridget hadn’t heard her at all. She just kept walking to her house and everyone in the neighborhood must have heard her anguished howls as soon as she was inside. You knew that her sister lived downtown with their mother and didn’t even want to know what she had found there.

Then your mother started speculating about all the things that could be going on, and worse, what could have caused it.

“It’s that kid next door,” you heard her ranting at your father from your spot near the window, referring to your neighbor and how he and his friends played, what she liked to call, satanic games. Your mother had never struck you as being particularly religious before, but you could see her clutching the old crucifix that hung from her neck a lot lately. She gripped that thing so tightly that she was in danger of fusing it with her palm entirely. “Him and that cult!”

“Mom, for fuck’s sake,” you called out. Her increasing paranoia about what was going on in town ever since Chrissy Cunningham’s death was driving you up the walls. “Gareth is a total nerd. They just play games together.”

“That’s what they say that they’re doing, but I know better!” Your mother yelled back and threw in a quick, “Language!”

Your dad was unable to calm her down and merely stood by helplessly as she continued on her rant. The only way to silence her was to retreat to your room where you managed to have some peace and quiet until your mother burst in later, told you to pack and announced that you were going to visit your aunt who lived in Idaho.

“Mom?”

“Don’t argue with me, young lady, we need to go.”

“I can’t just leave! I have stuff to do!”

Your mind immediately jumped to Eddie. You hadn’t seen that much of him lately, seeing how he had gotten accused of murder not too long ago, but you just knew that he was laying low somewhere. After some of the basketball assholes had come over to Gareth’s house and had threatened to break his hand, it had made the threat more real somehow. It had served as a stark reminder, making it more apparent that things had changed so considerably that you weren't sure if they could ever go back to normal.

“Like what?” Your mother started throwing stuff into a suitcase since you didn't seem to want to move from your spot, picking things from your closet completely at random. “What could be more important?”

“I need to see if-“ You swallowed up your words. You’d almost told your mother exactly why you needed to stay and given all the insane shit that she had been spewing about Eddie and the Hellfire Club, it was likely that your mother wouldn’t have been particularly thrilled if you had finished your sentence. “Exams are coming up!” You blurted out the first thing that you could think of. “Graduation! I can’t go!”

“So? You can take exams in Idaho.”

“Yeah right. They’ll probably make me repeat the entire goddamn year. I’m not doing that.”

“Language!” You rolled your eyes when your mother raised her voice again. “Just start packing.” She walked over to you and took your hands in hers. She almost seemed normal for a few seconds. “We need to go, sweetie. Can’t you see that?”

“Mom-“

“Just do it. Please.” She let go of you, turned around and made her way back to the hallway. She paused in the doorway and said, “I’m not asking again.”

You looked at the suitcase on your bed helplessly, not wanting to comply with her demand, but feeling like you didn't have much of a choice.

It hadn’t always been this bad, but ever since the big town meeting that Jason Carver had interrupted, who was spewing nothing but insane nonsense about Eddie and the Hellfire Club, your mother had gotten more unhinged. She joined a neighborhood watch team and had gotten sucked in by some crazy theories that some of the other people there were spewing.

She had also forbidden you from speaking to Gareth, a request that you hadn’t exactly obeyed.

The second that his name popped into your head, you knew what you had to do.

Grabbing a backpack from your closet, you threw in some essentials. A pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, underwear, even a couple of much loved paperbacks, you know, stuff that you might need, and then you quietly snuck out of your window.

The only option that you had was to go over to Gareth’s place and ask him to hide you for a couple of days.

Your mother would never suspect you of breaking her wacko rule in regards to him. She had no idea that you’d already been sneaking out at night to sit with the boy that you’d known your entire life. The two of you would talk about what was going on and how everyone in Hawkins was collectively losing their mind.

When Jason and his stooges came round to Gareth’s house to look for Eddie, you had been so furious that they had come for your friend (and your boyfriend, naturally), that you had almost gone over to Hawkins PD to report it as a hate crime. The only reason that you hadn’t done that was because of Gareth’s refusal to come with you.

The walk from your house to his wasn’t far, about 60 feet, max. You’d never measured it, but you didn’t need to. Fact was, that you knew that short walk like the back of your hand.

Your bedroom windows had always faced each other, and when you had been kids, the two of you had developed an elaborate signaling system with flashlights. That very same battered old flashlight was now in your backpack along with all the other things.

Before you even had a chance to knock on Gareth’s bedroom window however, you heard someone call out your name.

You turned in the direction that the voice had come from and could see a kid emerge from the tree line that bordered the back of your house. You immediately picked up on his rather severe limp and how he winced every time his sore foot connected with the ground.

“You’re that Henderson kid. Dustin,” you said when he got close enough.

You’d seen him around Eddie a couple of times, but you had never really talked to him before. He was one of the kids that you had at one time lovingly referred to as “strays”, since Eddie seemed to have a tendency to adopt every single one of them. He had done the same thing with Gareth many years previous. Eddie had a thing for people who just seemed kind of lost, as if he had one day decided to start collecting them.

“Yeah,” he replied as he limped up to you. He repeated your name again when he was standing next to you, as if he was testing it out, just to check if he had found the right person. When you gave him a brief nod, he continued, “I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” you said, a little surprised. And then, when you had taken another closer look at him added, “Jesus, you look like shit.” It looked like he had dressed himself for an upcoming war. What on Earth had he been up to this evening? Playing war games in the forest with his friends? “Are you okay?”

“Fine, never better,” he replied hurriedly. “I’m going to need you to come with me right now please?”

His question took you aback since you didn’t really know him. You just knew how highly Eddie always spoke about him, how Dustin Henderson was going to be the one that he’d entrust the Hellfire Club to after he finally graduated.

“What? But why?”

“Because I was told to come get you.” He tried to grab your arm, but you pulled it away from his grasp. “I don’t have all night,” he sounded exasperated and like he was done with you, but you had no idea whether that was because he was annoyed with you specifically or simply because he had a very taxing night. “Please?”

“Lots of people pleading with me tonight,” you said under your breath. Dustin sighed deeply in irritation. Whatever was going on, it was obviously important and Eddie’s blind trust in this kid made you trust him too, even if his request was still weird, to say the least. “But fine. Tell me one thing though?” He gave you a brief nod and you continued. “Where are you going to take me?”

“The lake.”

Convinced that you were going to follow him, despite the fact that you hadn’t explicitly said that you would, the Henderson kid started walking in the direction of the forest trail that he had just come from.

You briefly wondered if you should be offering to support him since he looked like he could barely even walk at all.

“Lover’s Lake?” Why a young boy was even interested in taking you there was beyond you, but you followed him regardless. “Why are we going there? And can you even walk that far?”

“I didn’t walk all the way here.” It sounded like he was annoyed with you again, but you still had no clue why. “I drove.”

“You. Drove.” This was getting more ridiculous by the second. “How old are you exactly? Thirteen?”

“Almost fifteen actually.” He stopped and turned around suddenly. “Jesus, if I had known that you were this annoying, I would have asked someone else to take the honors of getting you.”

“I’m annoying?!” You couldn’t stop yourself from raising your voice at him, all the frustrations of the night suddenly spilling out. “There was a massive earthquake, the downtown area is on fire, my mom wants to fucking move to fucking Idaho as we speak, the phones are dead so I can’t even call my best friend to tell her what’s going on.” The words kept coming as if a dam had just broken. “I was just on my way to ask Gareth to hide me in his fucking house and then you appeared from out of nowhere and told me to come with you when I don’t have a damn clue why. If anyone should be annoyed, it should be me!”

You were out of breath when you reached the end of your rant. It felt like you were stuck in some nightmare and you pinched your arm in the vain hope that you might wake up.

You didn’t.

“You done?” Dustin looked less than impressed, more frustrated with you than earlier even, and jerked his head in the direction that you had been walking in before. “Steve’s waiting.”

“Steve?” You frowned, but followed him anyway. Whatever the hell was going on, you really wanted to know what it was now. It wasn’t like this night could get any crazier anyway. “Steve who?”

“Harrington,” he replied. “Steve Harrington.”

“Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?”

“Yep. Come on. Keep moving.”

It was ridiculous that a kid with a limp was managing to walk faster than you, but here you were. You kept tripping up because you weren’t exactly paying attention to where you were going.

That was because your mind had gone into overdrive, trying to figure out why the hell Steve Harrington, aka ‘The Hair’ aka ‘King Steve’ aka ‘The King of Hawkins High’, even wanted to take you to Lover’s Lake to begin with.

Maybe he was trying to get lucky with as many girls as he could under the pretext of the world coming to an end? It wasn’t exactly beyond the realm of possibilities.

But if that was the case, why would he even come to you anyway? You barely knew the guy. Yeah, you’d crushed on him in school, but every girl had a crush on him. Yeah, he winked and tried to flirt with you whenever you rented a movie at Family Video, but he did that to every girl that set foot in the place. He wasn’t exactly picky.

You would have been flattered once, but you were seeing Eddie now so you had to figure out a way to let Steve down nicely. You didn't think that it was possible to do so, but it wasn't like you wanted to break the guy's heart.

There were no words between you and Dustin after his small revelation. You simply followed him in silence, while your brain ran at a million miles an hour, mentally rehearsing every rejection line that came to mind.

The two of you eventually came across a dirt road and you could see Steve’s burgundy car parked there. The man himself was leaning against it casually, looking too cool for his own good.

“Oh, hey,” Steve said when he saw you approaching. “You got her,” he addressed Dustin before turning back to you. “Great.”

You came to a stop a few feet away from him and you started twisting the hem of your faded yellow and orange hoodie between your sweaty palms. It felt like you were choking, your chest burning from the nerves.

Neither Steve nor Dustin seemed to notice your unease and they talked amongst themselves for a bit before Steve opened the door to the passenger side for you. He then looked at you, a slight smile on his lips, as if to say “what are you waiting for, get in.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you blurted out suddenly. “But I can’t do this.”

Steve was looking at you as if your head had just caught fire, a frown creasing his perfect brow. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his hand still on the handle. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Yeah, sure, he’s a mess, but he’ll be fine.”

“The kid?” You pointed at Dustin, wondering what he even had to do with it. “Why’d you even send him anyway? You can’t use kids for your… your…”

“My what?” Steve looked at Dustin with his eyebrows raised and then back at you again. “Wait, what do you think we’re going to do anyway?“

“You want to take me to Lover’s Lake? Which is weird by the way! Hawkins is burning and you want to get lucky. Who even does that!”

“Henderson!” Steve smacked the back of Dustin’s head suddenly. It snapped you out of your weird train of thought instantly. “You didn’t even tell her?”

“Tell her what?” The kid rubbed the back of his head. “I was just supposed to get her. No one specified that I had to tell her anything. A lot of bad shit was happening, Steve.” The way that the annoyance just dripped into his voice hadn’t escaped you.

“Fuck’s sake, Henderson. You idiot.” Dustin looked insulted, but he managed to hold in the rest of his ire. “Look,” Steve addressed you again. “I’m not going to do anything weird or anything. Jesus, that’s the last thing that I’m thinking of right now. I’m just driving you to the lake because Eddie asked us to.”

“Eddie?!” When your voice shot up, you covered your mouth with your hand, shocking yourself with your tone. You were standing right in front of Steve a split second later. “W-why is he at the lake? What is he even- I mean, you know what I mean. And why would he send you?”

“Relax,” Steve said with an easy smile. “We’re friends.”

“Friends? But he never once mentioned you!”

“Yeah, so it’s a new thing I guess,” he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, as if that even explained anything. “Please get in the car. I’ll explain on the way there.”

You didn’t hesitate this time.

The drive to the lake wasn’t a long one and Steve gave you some details about what Eddie had been up to until tonight, with Dustin adding in some details as well, his voice noticeably calmer than before. Apparently Eddie had gotten himself injured during the earthquake earlier somehow. You weren’t exactly offered a lot of details in regards to how he had gotten injured, but you would see for yourself soon enough.

There were a couple of cabins dotted around the lake and hidden amongst the trees that lined it. Some modest ones and a couple that looked like they might fall apart if there was ever a brisk wind. The one that you were driving up to was clearly one of the more expensive ones. Two stories with a large porch, partly cladded in wood to make it fit into its surroundings, but also modern in a way.

You barely noticed it at the time.

As soon as the car pulled up outside, you practically launched yourself out of the car. You were on the porch in no time at all, wrenching the front door open and dashing inside.

“Past the kitchen, first door on the right,” Steve called after you when you stepped inside.

When you pushed the door open, it collided so harshly with the wall behind it, that you startled yourself. And also, inadvertently, Robin Buckley, who you knew from school and her job at Family Video. You had never actually seen someone jump a foot in the air before until then.

“Jesus!” Robin swore loudly, not even looking at you at first. “Couldn’t you have-“ When she saw who it was, her face fell and she launched into an apology. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I thought that it was Dustin, Nance or Steve, but it’s just you-“

She rambled on, but you barely heard her because your eyes were focused entirely on one thing and one thing alone.

“Oh my god,” you managed to choke out.

Eddie was laying on the bed, shirtless, with his torso and arms crudely bandaged up. The once white cloth had already turned red in several places. There were some clear patches of skin in between the tangle of bindings, but you had difficulty noticing them, too shocked to focus on anything apart from all the blood that you were currently seeing. It was incredibly obvious that he was in a lot of pain. When you had first been told that Eddie had gotten injured, you hadn’t expected that it would be this bad.

Eddie coughed once when he heard your voice and he grabbed at his chest while his features twisted into a painful grimace for a split second. Even breathing seemed to hurt. “Hey,” he croaked when he turned his face in your direction. “Trust me, it looks worse than it actually is.” He even had the audacity to smirk, an entirely vain attempt to downplay his current state.

A sob tore through you and you were sitting on the edge of the bed in no time at all. Your hand hovered over him, afraid to touch since he was so obviously in pain, and you ended up placing it on your lap instead.

Robin nervously exited the room behind you two, still apologizing, knowing that her presence wasn’t wanted and with no desire to want to stick around anyway.

“What happened to you?” Your vision was swimming, already beginning to fill with tears. You hated the fact that it made your sight clouded and blurry, unable to see him properly. “Was it those assholes from the basketball team?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie replied with a grim half-smile. “I’ll tell you someday.”

“You’d better,” you sniffled and looked down at your hands, still unsure what you should be doing with them. Eddie’s large hand covered yours suddenly and you were immediately struck by how dirty and bloody it was. “Jesus, Eddie, I need to clean this. I’ll go get some-“

“No,” he said firmly and you stopped your rise from the bed. “Just sit with me a bit first, okay?”

“Okay.”

Whenever he moved, you could see his muscles twitch. It physically hurt you to see him in this much pain and if you could have done anything to remedy it, you would have.

His grip on your hand was firm, squeezing hard whenever another wave of pain tore through him. You wiped at your eyes with the back of your free hand, desperately trying not to let any tears fall, but when you took in a deep shuddering breath, Eddie’s eyes focused on yours.

“Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” you muttered, but it didn’t sound very convincing, especially not since that was the exact moment that the tears did decide to fall.

“You are.” He reached up with his other hand and wiped it over your cheek, accidentally creating a wet stripe instead. “Why are you crying?”

“You look like shit, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” he couldn't stop himself from chuckling softly. “Good to see you too.”

“I’m sorry, but you do.” Eddie kept trying to wipe away every single tear that appeared and soon your cheeks were streaked with them. If anything, he had only made it worse. “I haven’t seen you in days and I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I couldn’t exactly get in touch with you.”

“I know. I don’t blame you for staying away.” You reached up so you could cover his hand with yours and you leaned into his touch. “And now that I’m finally with you, you look like this.”

“You don’t think I look good? Heroic, even?”

“You’ll always be my hero.” A small smile appeared on your lips. “You should know that.”

In a sense, he did know. It wasn’t like you had ever tried to hide how much you admired the way that he had taken all the shit that people threw at him, all their misconceptions, all their hate, and had turned it into a shield instead.

The two of you were silent for a moment, merely hanging onto each other, hands squeezing each other for comfort, which was something that you had sorely missed these last few days. You had missed him.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” he eventually said softly. “But everything hurts.”

“Oh yeah?” You dipped your head down and ghosted your lips over his teasingly. “Allow me, sweet prince.”

The kiss was gentle and sweet. You could taste a slight tang of iron on his lips, dried up blood mixed in with weed (as a form of pain relief, you assumed), but you didn’t care.

This was the first time in days that you had kissed him and if you could have it your way, you’d make it last even longer. You attempted to pour everything into that kiss, every ounce of want, every shed tear,  everything.

But the spell was broken when you pulled your hand from his grasp and brought it up to his chest. Your fingertips gingerly brushed over one of the bandages, making him wince from your touch.

Eddie looked embarrassed when you pulled away, but you pressed your lips to his forehead instead and let them linger there for a short while.

“It’s okay,” you assured. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“Don’t say that,” he muttered. “Don’t apologize for touching me.”

“Okay, I won’t,” you replied. "Didn't mean to hurt you, that's all."

His face was the only spot that didn’t look quite as injured as the rest of him so you brushed your fingers over his temples, his forehead, his nose, everywhere that wasn’t scratched. Eddie settled into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed so he could focus on what you were doing more.

“That feels good,” he sighed. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

Now that you were taking your time, you found more spots that were free from injury. There were still a lot of them there, but you did your utmost to concentrate on the good in between all this bad. Your hands were on his upper arms, still doing your utmost to keep your touch as light as possible, when you spoke again.

“I know that you don’t want to go to the hospital right now, because even I can see what a bad idea that would be, but some of these probably need changing” you said as you pulled away reluctantly. “So please, let me look after you, alright?”

Eddie opened his eyes when he didn’t feel your hands on him anymore and he looked at you as if he wasn’t entirely sure whether he was dreaming or not. He flashed you an almost pitiful smile and said, “What would I do without you, huh?”

“Be miserable.”

“Obviously.”

He reached an arm out, signaling that he needed you to help him. You were careful when you helped him up into a sitting position and you hated yourself when you saw his body tense up from the pain.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “About this.”

“Not your fault,” he said weakly. “I did this to myself.”

“I still feel bad.” You helped him to his feet, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to support him, and led him into the adjoining bathroom. There was a small stool there that you helped him sit down on. “I don’t like to see you get hurt.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course I don’t. I’m not some kind of monster that likes to see her guy get hurt.” You could feel yourself stiffening up momentarily. You’d never actually called him ‘your guy’ before. It felt like an oddly significant moment, and you had simply blurted it out like it was nothing. “I’m sorry I- that didn’t come out right.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes seemed to sparkle and you couldn’t help but blush when you saw how soft and full of love they were. “You thought that I’d hate being called that?“

“No, I-“ You started to talk, but then bit your lower lip nervously and averted your gaze. “I didn’t think that you’d mind. It’s just that… I dunno… don’t want you to think that I’m half-assing it. I mean it. Genuinely.” You felt his hand on your cheek, tilting your face back so you were forced to look at him. “You are my guy,” you repeated. “And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.”

“Well, it‘s working,” he replied. “Making me feel better, I mean.”

“Is that your way of telling me to say it more often?”

“Yes?”

“Fine. Don’t mind if I do then, but don’t blame me when you get sick of it.” You smiled at him and opened up some cabinets until you found an old first aid kit. You leaned over him and started to remove the applied bandages very carefully, your nose scrunching up in disgust when you saw some of the wounds up close. “Jesus, Eddie. Some of these might need stitches.”

“Could you…?”

“No,” you said as you shook your head. “I took first aid classes, but they failed to teach us how to stitch people up.” Your eyes fell on his trousers and then went back up to his face. “Are there some on your legs as well?”

“Is this just a trick to get me naked?”

“You caught me. I‘ve been dying to take advantage of you this entire time,” you laughed. “Nothing hotter than a guy who’s injured.”

“Chicks do dig scars.”

“These are a little bit too fresh for that, moron.” You started helping him out of his trousers. He lifted his ass up so you could remove them, and he promptly dug his fingernails into your shoulders when you slid them down his legs. “Looks worse than it is, my ass,” you said under your breath. “You liar.”

“Hey, what kind of guy would I be if I showed my girl that I was in pain?”

“Oh yeah, because you were hiding it so well up until now.”

He grinned wryly and watched as you removed the bandages from his legs as well. You had no idea who had put them on, but it was a good thing that you were here to redo them. Eddie could have gotten infections if they had been left on for too long and it could have gotten worse from there.

You took your time cleaning out the wounds with water, then with disinfectant. You did your best to make sure that everything was as sterile as possible, but you would probably have to clean and redress the wounds multiple times a day for a while.

Eddie, for his part, was a trooper about it. You knew that he was in a lot of pain, but he never once complained or told you that it hurt. He’d merely squeeze his eyes shut, breathe in deeply through his nose, and grab your arm or shoulder if it was particularly painful.

When you were done, you briefly considered cleaning his hair as well. His beloved curly mane was greasy and dirty, but that was the least of his problems right now.

Another time.

You helped him back to bed and while you had intended to leave him alone for a short while, feeling guilty over keeping him awake all this time, the fact that he opened his arms for you indicated that he didn’t want you to go just yet. So you lay down next to him, resting your head against a part of his chest that wasn’t quite as injured, and let him wrap his arms around you.

The two of you lay in silence for a while, neither of you sure what to talk about.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said after a couple of minutes. “For all of this.”

“Please don’t.” You reached for his hand on your side and gave it a comforting squeeze. “You’ve obviously been through some shit, no other word for it. So don’t feel bad, okay? Please?”

“Okay.” His reply sounded pitiful and you just knew that he was beating himself up over it in his head right now. “I’ll change the subject,” he said eventually. “How have you been holding up these last couple of days?”

You told him everything. Anything to get him to stop feeling sorry for himself. You told him about the most mundane crap that had happened to you, simply to keep his mind off of things, and you avoided what everyone in town had been saying about him and how much it had hurt you to hear all the lies. You’d been close to calling people out on spreading such vile lies about the person that you loved, but that would have brought unnecessary attention with it.

The events of this evening were what you ended with, the earthquake and how your mother seemed to have gone off the deep end entirely. You mentioned your plans, about how you were going to hide at Gareth’s place, but then Dustin found you and your plans changed considerably.

“That’s all,” you said at the end.

“Wow,” he replied. “So you were going to-“

“-run away, to Gareth's place, which is next door,” You finished the sentence for him with a giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. “This is a better hiding spot though.”

“I know. I was hiding near here for a couple of days myself." You were glad that you didn't know where he had been hiding at the time, because you knew that you would have come looking for him if you had known. "Was safe there for a while too, but they found me in the end.”

You had already heard the whispers around town about what had happened at the Lake. One of the guys from the basketball team, Patrick McKinney, had come to a grizzly end there and Jason Carver had claimed that Eddie had been responsible for his death. Despite that news, you had been glad that they hadn't caught Eddie and that he had managed to evade capture for a couple of more days.

“Why’d you come back here to begin with? You guys didn't think that it might be dangerous?”

“Dustin checked it out first and Steve’s parents know the people who own this place. They’re on holiday apparently so… no one here,” he replied matter of factly. “I dunno if the cops ever checked any of the other houses in the area, but they probably have other things on their mind than to pay attention to this place.”

“Probably,” you repeated. “Everyone’s downtown, but we should probably move eventually.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie said with amusement in his voice. “Always thinking ahead.”

“That’s why you have me.” You squeezed his hand again and turned your head so you could press your lips against his chest. “So you won’t be miserable and so I can think ahead for you.”

Hearing him laugh in reply filled you with warmth and you snuggled a bit closer into his side. For the first time that evening, you were filled with a sense of hope that was flickering to life in your chest. It felt like a small flame that was growing in size and you hoped that you could hang onto it for a while longer.

You vowed to yourself not to let it slip from your grasp too easily. No, you would hang onto it with all your might. Letting go was not an option.

*****

It took some time, but Eddie fell asleep eventually. You could tell that he had been fighting it for a while, but exhaustion took over in the end.

Slipping out of his grasp carefully, taking care not to wake him, you sat on the edge of the bed and looked over him for a short while. You could feel the pricks of tears in your eyes already and tried to force them away, which miraculously seemed to work.

Getting to your feet, you decided to see if anyone was still up, see if they could answer some burning questions.

There were some hushed voices coming from the living room when you stepped out into the hallway, but as soon as your foot touched a creaky floorboard, it went quiet.

You saw Robin and Steve sitting on the couch, both of them looking at you wide-eyed. You couldn’t see Dustin around so you assumed that he had either gone home or was asleep somewhere else.

“What the hell even happened to him?”

Since Eddie wasn’t exactly forthcoming and you didn’t want to press him, they were the only people where you could get answers. The duo exchanged a look first, as if they were silently communicating with each other, as if they could get their stories straight simply by sharing a look.

“He had an accident,” Robin started saying. You almost scoffed, since it was pretty clear to anyone that Eddie had indeed had an accident. “He-he fell. Yeah, that’s right.” She sounded more confident then, as if she had just come up with the only logical way to explain away all this. “He fell.”

You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands. This was pretty insulting since the degree of his injuries were not something that could be excused away by some random accident.

“Robin,” Steve cut her off before she could say that Eddie had simply rolled down a flight of stairs or something stupid like that. “Please don’t.” He said your name and got you to focus on him before he continued. “We were doing something really stupid right before the earthquake hit.”

“Oh yeah?” Inwardly you were slapping yourself, angry more with yourself than anything else. You should have been there for Eddie, should have been with him, maybe then this wouldn’t even have happened at all. "Like what?"

“Yeah,” Steve said with a quick nod. “You know those caves? The ones near Skull Rock?”

The caves. You did know about them.

Your older brother had at one time managed to convince you that a huge monster had made his home in those caves. It hadn’t been true, of course it hadn't, but he didn’t want you to go near there and that was the only way he knew how to keep you away from them.

It was one of the reasons why you still didn’t want to go near them today, all because your dumb brother had put the fear of God into you when you were little.

“You were in the caves?” The hairs on your arms stood up, making you rub your hands over them. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun?” Robin offered.

“Those caves aren’t fun,” you replied angrily.

“Henderson wanted to go,” Steve cut in. “He’s always building stuff, electronics, and he had some new device that he wanted to test.”

A frown appeared on your brow. This whole story was unlikely, but Eddie had mentioned before that Dustin was some kind of whiz kid so maybe it wasn’t impossible? You didn’t know the kid well enough to make any assumptions about what he liked to build in his free time, but plenty of people liked to build receivers and stuff so it could be true.

“And then what?”

“It was dark down there, obviously, so we took flashlights.” You were very much aware of the fact that Steve was making this up on the fly, but he never paused or wavered, seemingly used to coming up with quick excuses when he needed to. “So Dustin was setting up this thing, right? And then Eddie’s flashlight kinda stopped working. He starts hitting it with his hand, trying to get it to work again, and that was when he slipped.”

“But,” you were barely able to contain your anger over being lied to like this. “He has all these… these marks on his body. Some are bite marks.” You shuddered just thinking about it. You could see the marks every time you blinked, on the inside of your eyes, as if they had been burned straight into your retinas. “How would he even get those if he fell? I don’t believe that shit for one second-“

“Oh!” Robin suddenly exclaimed. She slapped her forehead hard, trying to make it seem like she had just remembered something, but her palm had connected with her skin so hard that she swore under her breath and started rubbing at the already redding mark. “We forgot about the bats!”

You blinked once. You could see Steve’s foot moving swiftly, the sole of his shoe making contact with Robin’s foot. She exchanged an angry look with him and Steve merely shook his head in response.

“Bats?” You rubbed your temples, not sure what you were hearing right now, but you could swear that this entire conversation was going to give you a headache.

“Yeah, big ones.” Robin kept talking and Steve groaned next to her as he ran a hand through his hair. “Like, really big ones.”

“Why would bats attack Eddie?”

“Because they were scared? Yeah, yeah, they were scared. So, Eddie just… just fell into their lair and then the earthquake freaked them out so they got pissed off and then they attacked him.” She looked almost pleased with herself that she had come up with this. “Because, maybe, they thought that Eddie was responsible for it?”

“You do realize that the bats that we have round here aren’t that big? You’d need something the size of a fruit bat or a flying fox to do that amount of damage.”

“Right! And that’s the kind that attacked him. One of those.”

“They live in Asia,” you said irritatedly.

“Maybe they got lost?”

“This is such a massive pile of bullshit. You expect me to believe that a colony of huge bats flew halfway across the world to relocate to Hawkins and then attacked Eddie?”

“Look, I know that it sounds weird, but it’s the only explanation that we’ve got right now," Steve interjected and it was made pretty clear that these were the only answers that you were going to get. "Let's just focus on what's really important here. How is he?"

“Someone had better fill me in eventually. I don’t like being lied to," you said with a sigh whilst shaking your head, even if it felt like you were never going to get any answers. "Eddie's alright, given the circumstances. He finally fell asleep."

“Good,” Steve replied before he got to his feet and shuffled off in the direction of the kitchen. “That’s good.”

When you watched him walk past you, closer than before, you were ashamed that you hadn’t noticed that he was a little worse for wear himself. There was an angry red line running over his throat that looked an awful lot like he had gotten caught somewhere and his head had snapped back at an uncomfortable angle.

You shuddered for what must have been the millionth time since Dustin had come to your place to collect you.

Sitting down next to Robin, who gave you an apologetic look, you looked out the windows next to her. You couldn’t see the smoke from here, but the orange glow was still present in the distance, painting the trees in a similar hue as if the sun was steadily rising beyond the horizon.

Your eyes darted to your wrist, but you weren’t wearing your watch. Maybe the sun was getting ready to start its ascent into the sky, maybe all of this was a bad dream and your alarm would be waking you up soon. You sure as hell hoped that that was the case. The desire to pinch yourself was present yet again, but it hadn’t helped before so you resisted the urge.

“Hey,” you started when a thought suddenly occurred to you and Robin’s head snapped in your direction. “If Eddie had gotten attacked by bats, shouldn’t he be getting a rabies shot or something?”

“That’s what I said!” Robin exclaimed suddenly.

You didn’t miss how her eyes darted over to where Steve was leaning against the wall. You thought that it was odd, but you didn’t get a chance to dwell on it because Robin was already launching headfirst into a lecture about the dangers of rabies.

When Steve rejoined you, he told Robin not to freak you out and their bickering eventually made you laugh. It almost made you forget about the events that lead to this moment.

Almost.

*****

A sudden movement to your side pulled you out of your slumber. You muttered something angrily, still caught in that space between sleep and waking with no realization of your surroundings just yet. Your first instinct was to roll over, away from the source that was trying to wake you, silently begging for just a few minutes…

It wasn't until you heard Eddie's voice, cutting through your dormancy, that your eyes shot open and you sat bolt upright on the bed.

"Get 'em off," he slurred from his sleep-addled state. "Get 'em off," he repeated himself with more urgency this time. "Hend-" The first syllable came out strained, half spoken, cut off because Eddie's hand took a swipe at something invisible on his chest.

Maybe the farfetched story about the bats was true after all.

"Eddie." Having seen enough, you decided that you needed to get him out of this nightmare, so you grabbed his hand before he could tear off any of the carefully applied bandages and gave it a firm squeeze. "It's just a bad dream, Eddie, so wake up, okay? Please?"

When he tried to pull his hand from your grasp, still trying to get invisible assailants off of himself, you started shaking his shoulder carefully as you repeated his name. You saying his name seemed to calm him down enough for him to stop, piercing through his nightmare and driving the demons away.

It only took a short amount of time until he was taking deep steady breaths of air into his lungs once more so you lay down next to him on your side, face turned in his direction and you couldn't help but reach out. Your fingers gingerly brushed over one of the wounds on his cheek, which you instantly regretted when he winced.

Before you could pull away however, Eddie instinctively wrapped his hand around your wrist, his thumb rubbing over your pulsepoint as if to test if you were really there by feeling your heartbeat.

“Baby.” His voice sounded pained, his eyes opening slowly, still slightly glassy when they focused on you. When he smiled at you, all that you could do was wrap your arms around him carefully and pull him against you. Eddie immediately buried his face against your chest. “You’re still here.”

“You thought that I’d leave?”

“Would be better if you did." He breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in your familiar scent. "Safer.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t care,” you replied bluntly. “I’m staying right here. With you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thanks, love.”

Your heart must have swelled three sizes in your chest, on the verge of bursting entirely. Eddie always called you ‘baby’ or ‘princess’, but never ‘love’. It was a nice new nickname to receive, and while you weren't entirely sure that you had earned it just yet, it was nice to hear just the same.

You ran your fingers through his hair and you could feel him relax from your touch. His breathing was still wheezy at times, but he was barely coughing now so he was improving ever so slightly. He let out a contented whine when you gently twirled a lock of his hair around your finger.

“You’ll be alright, Eddie,” you said softly with conviction as you kissed the top of his head. There was a long road ahead of you, but you’d manage. Somehow. “You will be alright. I’ll see to that.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things au #mar writes #mar moodboards

[jamesunderwater]

2, 8, 17, 21!

02: Lyrics from the most recent song that made you think of a Marauders Era character

Last night I was listening to July by Laur Elle (who is amazing btw and just put out a new album) and the lyrics below made me think of Sirius and the self-loathing of his teen years that he just...completely keeps to himself.

One step forwards, falling backwards I just wanna prove that I'm worth More than what my head tells me that I am I'll try again How do I fake a smile and feel the tension? Wait, I'm moving too fast in the wrong direction I've been running around in the dark with no light But I can't stop staying up looking for signs

08: Lyrics that make you FERAL about your favorite character

Muahaha I get to do another one >:) Okay so technically this is a prongsfoot song (or wolfstar if that's your vibe) but oh my FUCKING god I feel like Sirius Black wrote it and I scream and cry in the car to it and it tears me in two, so, uh, enjoy (giving you both the verses and then the chorus which is essentially the whole song but it's worth it).

[verse 1] Around the sun and around again You seem to look right through me Another year being your best friend Feels like you always knew me And I'm so proud to call you mine Feels like I know you from another life [chorus] [verse 2] Around the clock, we can talk for days 'Bout how we saw it coming Another sign written on my face 'Cause now my blood is pumpin' Can you just hold me for a little while? My skin is crawling, I feel vile [chorus] But what if it doesn't end well Would you still stay? What if I fuck it up like I always do And my shit gets in the way? What if it doesn't end well Would we still be fine? When the world is over and we go under Would you still be mine?

17: Lyrics you think perfectly describe Remus Lupin

Oh, the entire song Half a Man by Dean Lewis, hands fucking down. But here are the beginning lyrics. I mean ugh he literally believes he's half a man; the second line could refer to him telling Tonks things are over with him and Sirius when they're not. The rest needs no explanation imo. I mean, it's just. It's perfect.

I was wrong to say I loved her, I was wrong to think I'm right When I told her it was over, oh my darling I had lied I've been running from my demons, afraid to look behind I've been running from myself, afraid of what I'd find But how am I supposed to love you when I don't love who I am? And how could I give you all of me when I'm only half a man? 'Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning, so let go of my hand Oh how can I give you all of me when I'm only half a man?

21: Lyrics from a song you think the Marauders Era girlies would perform if they were an all-girl band (+ tell us what their performance would be like)

I fucking love that several people asked about this one. Hot of you all. Okay first of all I need to say imagining Lily Evans as the leader singer of an all-girl band is.......one of the hottest things I've ever thought of, jfc. Okay but um anyway I LOOOOVE this song for Lily, and I think it applies to all the first war Order girlies, who were FUCKING BAD ASSES and probably disappointed people by not being the same old girls they used to be. So please enjoy a snippet of EAT ME by Demi Lovato, feat. Royal & the Serpent.

Is this what you'd all prefer? Would you like me better if I was still her? Did she make your mouths water? Ugh I know the part I've played before I know the shit that I've ignored I know the girl that you adored She's dead, it's time to fucking mourn I can't spoon-feed you anymore I can't spoon-feed you anymore Dinner's served, it's on the floor I can't spoon-feed you anymore You'll have to eat me as I am You'll have to eat me as I am

Lyrics Ask Game: Marauders Edition

#this is SO FUCKING FUN god #marauders music #music #you've got mail #luna tag #ask game #the marauders #hp

[typinggently]

Legal in New York

Sam/de-aged Dean For @girltommy in reference to their comment on this post ♡ Warning(?): Underage(?) Read the updated version on Ao3

Sam winces at Dean’s soft grunt. “How about we go back to the motel?” He tries to reach out, but Dean waves him off, one hand cradling his skull where he banged his head against the roof of the impala. “No way, that’s like two hours away. We fit, don’t we?”

“Twenty minutes,” Sam says, catching Dean’s fluttering hands before they can once more launch an attack on the buttons of his shirt. “And the beds might be worth the wait. Patience is a virtue, you know?”

“Patience can suck it.” Dean wiggles a little, but his efforts don’t do much to dislodge Sam’s grip on his wrists. “Damn, your hands are huge.” The huffy annoyance melts into awe that glitters in his eyes and gives an almost dreamy tint to his words.

That sudden shift in tone is enough to pull Sam out of what was about to become a snappy back and forth to consider their current state. Dean’s shimmering eyes and the pink of his cheeks, obvious even in the dim light of the car. His considerably lighter-than-usual weight on Sam’s lap and the familiar-unfamiliar softness of his features, the heart-shape of his face and the baby pink of his mouth. The breathy eagerness radiating off of him, the same eagerness that forced Sam to pull over on the side of the road before Dean could climb out of his seat. “You know, this feels kinda illegal.”

“Huh?” Dean seems to wake from his daze and stops sucking on his pink-pouty lower lip. “No way, I’m like, what? Nineteen?”

Sam gives him a sceptical look as he considers Dean’s weight and what he can see of his chest in comparison to his memories of his brother at that age. As inaccurate as they might be since his point of reference has changed significantly, he still spent a lot of time looking at Dean at the time, the shoulders and waist and hands of him. “Nineteen, huh?”

Dean blushes all the way to the root of his hair and shifts his apple-tight ass on Sam’s lap, which doesn’t help at all. “Dude, you suck. Fine, maybe eighteen or sixteen or whatever. Still legal in New York.”

Sam narrows his eyes at that, both at those words and at the way Dean shifts closer, all glittery-eyed and pink. “Why do you know that?”

Thighs squeezing his, Dean’s hot breath brushing his chin. “That sixteen’s legal in NY? Dude, everyone knows that. Hey, can you kiss me?”

Sam has a few pointed follow-up questions for that statement, but the question throws him completely. It’s not like Dean to ask for anything, least of all something as sacred-yet-unmentionable as kisses. It’s also not like Sam to refuse him anything, ever, so he brushes away the strangeness of the situation in favour of tilting his head a little to fit their mouths together.

Kissing him feels the same, almost. He tastes like Dean and the spell definitely didn’t impact the decades worth of experience he has. When Sam does that little tongue-swirl he likes, however, instead of grunting with appreciation, Dean moans, soft and sticky-sweet. Whatever moralistic hold-ups Sam had about doing this while Dean looks like that, they go right out of the window at that sound.

His free hand finds the curve of Dean’s skull and he feels the feathery-softness of his hair as he deepens the kiss. Turns out Dean still likes getting kissed like he’s getting his throat fucked with it, melting into Sam’s chest with a mess of half-gurgled moans. His hips rock up against whatever part of Sam he can get at, the dangling zipper of his hoodie jingling softly. The scent of teen boy sweat clings to him, body spray and eagerness that would make Sam much more uncomfortable if the boy on his lap wasn’t so undeniably Dean with his low hums and slick tongue twists. As is, the soft sound of protest he makes when Sam tries to loosen the grip on his wrists zap through Sam like lightning. He tightens his grip and his other hand finds Dean’s knee, his thigh. Less muscle mass, less fat, but before he can think too much about that, Dean has slithered even closer. There’s a slurred ‘Sammy’ that Sam usually only gets when he’s about two thirds in already and the sound has him instinctively tightening his grip on slim wrists, squeezing a flexing-warm thigh. Apparently, that’s the last straw.  

Dean makes a downright pitiful sound, sweet like caramel. His kiss turns messy with eagerness, moans melting in the heat of his mouth while the grind of his hips gets erratic until he’s humping against Sam with about as much finesse as one can expect from a sixteen-year-old.

The messy display shouldn’t do anything for Sam and if he were in any other position, he’d probably affirm that it doesn’t. As is, though, he squeezes Dean’s thigh again to hear his breath hitch once more, a sound that turns into a soft whine and sends molten heat down Sam’s spine. His hand finds Dean’s slim hips, then the curve of his ass, which earns him a full-body shiver, a pitiful keen. He squeezes the flexing muscle, tight and small in the palm of his hand. “How am I supposed to fit in there, huh?” More to himself, maybe, but Dean outright gasps, a shocked little intake of breath paired with an inelegant, tight-hot swirl of his hips and, oh. Oh.

Before Sam can recover from the surprise that sizzled through him, he’s got an armful of warm-soft jailbait. Dean lets out a puppy huff and nuzzles his hot face into the crook of Sam’s throat, mouthing at his skin. “That was better than I remembered.”

Sam is incredibly tempted to make a quick comment on the state of Dean’s jeans, but the familiar liquor-slow sweetness of Dean’s voice makes him reconsider. Instead, he nudges his chin up a little and kisses him, taking his time with licking into his mouth now that Dean is in no state to object. Once he’s had his fill of that bruise-soft mouth and the insistent pulse of his own cock against Dean’s body is getting a little too much to handle, he leans back in his seat to get away from the warm-heavy weight leaning against him. “Right. Now get off before someone sees us and fucking arrests me.”

Dean makes an unhappy sound, dishevelled and drowsy. “Telling you, ‘s legal in New York.” Still, he makes a half-hearted attempt, slip-falling more than climbing back into the passenger’s seat.

“Uh huh.” Sam takes in the messy state of his hair, his low lashes and dark cheeks, the puffy softness of his lips. Definitely worth getting arrested over, but that’s just Dean for you. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time we’re in New York, then. You think you can wait til we get to a real bed now?”

At that, Dean’s eyes make a real effort to open. His head lolls to the side and his eyes shimmer under the fan of his lashes. “Think you can keep up, old man?” He takes the slap that earns him with a giggle and a cry of “child abuse!” and for a brief second, Sam seriously considers making him walk back to the motel.

(He doesn't, of course, but that's mostly due to the way Dean reaches out to lace their fingers together. It makes it a whole lot more difficult to drive, but that’s the price of teenage affection.)

#drabble #clown boys #hiii sorry I know this is random & uncalled for but your comment lead to me thinking about it so it felt appropriate to credit you somehow #🌹🌹🌹

[bi-bard]

I Remember it All Too Well - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: I Remember it All Too Well

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Based On: All Too Well [10 Minute Version]

Word Count: 4,905 words

Warning(s): break-up, unhealthy relationship, arguing, cussing, I made Sam a terrible person and I'm not sorry about it

Summary: The story of the two hunters that lasted far longer than they should’ve. Each chapter shows that Sam and (Y/n) were either meant to last a lifetime or fall apart at the seams. (I used season 11 as a reference for ages)

Author's Note: Here it is!! The final From the Vault imagine for the foreseeable future! Unless Taylor announces something soon.

Oh! I didn't change the pronouns in the lyrics of the song, but this is written with a gender-neutral reader.

Masterlist for From the Vault - Taylor Swift Writing Challenge

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

--Part One: A True Romantic--

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place And I can picture it after all these days

Meeting Sam had been a complete accident.

I had managed to skate around the pair of hunters while we were working on the same case. It was a witch that had been terrorizing those that had wronged her.

I had snuck in through the back of the house, hoping to catch the witch somewhat off guard.

I made my way to the main room of the house to see the witch holding two men against the wall.

My eyes went wide and quickly shot the witch in the back. The witch's body fell to the ground and the men barely caught themselves, each trying to catch their breath.

"What is wrong with you two," I asked. "You just go hang out at a creepy cabin in the woods? What, do you guys run some stupid urban explorer channel?"

"What," the shorter of the two men asked.

"Why would you just trot through the front door?"

"Who are you," the other man asked.

"Is that any of your business," I replied.

"I'm Sam," he introduced. "This is Dean. We're both hunters."

"Sam and Dean," I repeated. He nodded. "Like Winchester?"

"You know us," Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

"You two were instruments in the apocalypse... and then stopped at least three other apocalypses," I said. "Yeah... I know who you are."

"Who are you," Sam asked.

"I'm (Y/n)," I replied. "(Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"(Y/l/n)," Dean muttered. "Why do I know that name?"

"I mean... my dad was a hunter too."

"Clark!"

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at me. Sam and I both jumped a little at his excitement. I nodded.

"I remember his name because of Superman," Dean explained. "Dad worked with him a few times. He used to have a cooler in his backseat full of snacks."

I nodded, "He always did. Kept it stocked for long drives."

"God, I was probably 15 when I last saw him."

"What year would that have been?"

"'94."

"Well, he probably left to watch my mom give birth."

"Wait, how old are you," Dean asked.

"22," I replied.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, turning around for a minute.

"Did you forget you age-"

"Shut up," Dean pointed at me.

I chuckled. I looked at Sam, who was still looking at me. As soon as we made eye contact, I looked away, feeling my face heat up a little bit.

"Come on," Dean finally grumbled. "Let's get this mess cleaned up."

"You guys don't have to help me-"

"No, no, you saved our lives, least we could do is save you time," Sam touched my shoulder and grinned.

"Oh, well, thanks."

I wasn't used to hunters being nice to me. Most of them waved me off because of my age. Some would respect me if they knew my dad, but most wouldn't even let me get to that point. Having the brothers be so helpful was just strange.

After getting the mess cleaned up, the three of us walked out to our cars. We ended up parked really close to each other. We really must've just missed each other on the way in.

"Hey, give me a second," I heard Sam say to his brother. Dean nodded and walked to their car. "(Y/n)."

I stopped, turning to face him, "Yeah?"

"I... Well... I was wondering if you wanted to go out," he offered. "With me?"

"Like a date," I asked.

"Yeah," he replied, a small grin on his face. "If you're alright with that."

I smiled, "Yeah. Uh, that sounds really nice."

The smile on his face grew.

"I saw a diner in town," I vaguely pointed in the direction of the town we were staying in. "How about we both go clean up and then meet there?"

"You think they're still open," Sam chuckled.

"Well, if they aren't, we'll find something," I shrugged.

He nodded, "Alright. I'll see you in a bit."

"See you," I walked to my car. "Wait!"

"What," he asked. I jogged over and held out my hand. "What?"

"Give me your phone, Sam," I said. He handed me his phone. I quickly typed in my number and handed it back. "That might be kinda useful."

He chuckled, "Yeah, maybe. Bye."

"Bye," I muttered before going to walk to my car again.

I refused to turn around and look at him. If I did, I knew my heart would jump out of my chest and my face would've heated up even more than it already had. I just got to my car and left.

The diner was still open when Sam and I both got there. It was mostly empty due to the time, but the waitress promised that we had enough time to sit down.

I'm almost certain she knew what the situation was.

We sat at the diner table with some coffee and pie. We just talked about anything we could. Anything not hunting related. Movies and music and just... anything.

It was nice.

I hadn't been on a date in a while, and I could tell Sam hadn't either. We both did our best to make each other comfortable.

As we walked out, Sam reached over and grabbed my hand. I smiled.

I hadn't parked very far down the road.

"I had a really nice time tonight," I said, slowly stopping next to my car. "Thank you for this."

"Thank you for going with me," he replied. "I have a nice time too."

We both stood there awkwardly for a few moments. I didn't know if I was supposed to walk away or not. I just didn't want to mess this up.

"Can I kiss you," Sam asked suddenly.

I must've paused for a moment too long. He shook his head and looked down for a moment.

"Sorry, that was weird-"

"Yes," I cut him off. "Yes. You can."

Sam stepped forward and cupped the sides of my face. I grinned at him before he leaned down to press his lips to mine. It immediately felt like my heart took off sprinting. My stomach was doing flips. It all was just so perfect.

I leaned back slowly and smiled at Sam again.

I slowly stepped away and started walking backward toward my car, "Have a good night, Sam."

"You too," he replied. "I'll call you."

"You better."

I got in the driver's side of my car.

As I pulled away from the diner, I rolled down my window and turned up my radio. I happily sang along to whatever I had playing at the time.

It had been a long time since I felt like this. Excitement and adrenaline were a normal part of a hunt. This. This was different. This was butterflies and a kind of nervous excitement that I never thought I was going to actually have a good reason to experience.

I could sense that so much was about to change.

--Part Two: History--

You taught me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

Everything changed.

Over the next number of months, it felt like my entire life had changed.

I was suddenly never alone on a hunt. I always had backup or support. I was incredibly fortunate.

Sam had gone out of his way to make sure I was happy and taken care of. He found all of the perfect times to hold me and kiss me. If he wasn't there, I would get regular texts and calls to check in on me and let me know that he was still alive. I don't think there was a time I didn't feel cared about.

I hadn't moved into the bunker yet, but it was pretty common for me to drive by and stay a night or two between hunts.

One of those mornings, I woke up to Sam holding the side of my face, rubbing his thumb in circles.

"Morning," I muttered, moving closer to him.

His hand moved from my face to pull me closer, "Morning."

"How long have you been up," I asked.

"Not long," he shrugged.

I knew what that meant. More often than not, it meant that he probably didn't sleep at all.

"What happened," I replied immediately.

He grinned, "You always know."

"It's a gift," I joked. "Now, what happened?"

"Just a nightmare," he mumbled.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He didn't usually say yes. He usually avoided the topic. I don't know if it just hurt him or if he was too scared of being some kind of burden. I tried everything to make him know that it was okay to talk about these things. That I was still going to be there for him. His pain wasn't going to make me run.

When Sam hesitated for a moment, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. I moved to kiss his other cheek.

"You don't have to hide things from me," I said softly before pecking his lips. "You can talk to me, Sam."

He let out a quiet sigh. I cupped the sides of his face and pecked his lips again.

"I love you, Sam," I said. "I won't push you to talk, but I don't want you to hide from me when you want to talk about it."

That seemed to be what pushed him. He leaned his forehead on mine and shut his eyes for a moment. I watched him, looking for any sign that he was uncomfortable or upset. His eyes opened again as I was studying him. He grinned.

"Thank you," he mumbled. I smiled back.

He reached a hand up and held one I had laying on his cheek. He pressed a kiss to my palm.

"It was... It was about something that happened a while ago," he started explaining. "I... I tried to close the gates of hell."

"Right before the angels fell, right," I asked. I remembered it vividly. Nothing had looked so beautiful and terrifying all at once.

"Yeah," he nodded. "After I stopped the last trial, I was almost dead. An angel ended up possessing me. He helped heal me, but... he... he took control of my body and he..."

Sam trailed off for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut again. I pressed a kiss to his forehead. When I moved back again, his eyes had opened again.

"He killed one of my friends," his voice was shaking a little bit now. "He killed him using my body. It's just all... it's all so vivid."

I pulled Sam closer as I saw the tears in his eyes. He hid his face in the crook of my neck. The wall broke. He started crying and wrapped his arms a little tighter around me.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," I whispered. "I don't know how to help you, but I'll do anything I can. I'm going to be right here, Sam. I promise."

His grip on me tightened even more.

"Anything you want to tell me," I promised. "I'm here to listen."

I let the words slip out of my mouth because I was convinced. Convinced that this was going to be a relationship that lasted for years to come. I was convinced that Sam thought the same thing.

--Part Three: Resurrection--

He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was 'Til we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same After three months in the grave

I don't know if believing in forever was normal or immature.

After leaving Sam, I was definitely leaning towards immature.

I don't know where the change happened.

Suddenly, hunting in harmony turned to arguing about theories and methods. We were bickering in the middle of hunts. It was making us worse. It was making things dangerous.

Even outside of hunts, things shifted.

The normal loving and caring behavior seemed to change. I wouldn't have minded much. I could've excused it as the "puppy love" phase wearing off.

However, he was actively avoiding affection. I could only ignore that for so long.

Then, we started having arguments about that.

It took a lot of work for me to feel safe enough to put my foot down without feeling like I was being childish.

Leaving was hard.

It was loud and messy. He didn't give up until I had slammed the door behind me and left.

I just couldn't shake everything.

It had been my first big break-up. I had been in small relationships, but they never really went anywhere before my relationship with Sam.

Sam had left a mark on me. He had become an intricate part of my life. And I missed him. I missed us. Everything felt so different. I didn't want different. I wanted him.

Seeing him a few months after the break-up was a blessing and a curse.

"(Y/n)."

As soon as I looked over, I wanted to pretend that I didn't hear him. Sam was jogging over from where his brother had parked.

"Hey," he said softly, grinning at me.

"Hi," I replied awkwardly.

"Been a while," he pointed out. I nodded. "You're here working the case, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "I have a theory that it's a shifter."

"Really?"

I nodded before looking away awkwardly, "I'm gonna go get settled in my room. Good luck."

"(Y/n), wait."

Sam walked behind me to my door. I tried to ignore him, but I couldn't do much when he put his hand on the door to stop me from closing it.

"What," I snapped.

"Can we talk," he asked. "Please."

I paused for a moment. I just looked at him.

He looked so sad. Sad and nervous. He didn't push the door anymore. He just watched me, hoping that I was going to talk to him.

I let out a sigh and stepped back, opening the door enough for him to walk inside.

"What do you want," I asked after closing the door behind him. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I want to apologize," he said. "I... I miss you."

I let out a sigh, biting back any response that could've formed.

"I should've trusted you more and taken care better care of you," he continued. "I should've treated you far better than I did. And I'm so, so sorry."

I just nodded. I didn't actually know what to say. My arms uncrossed as he stepped forward. He slowly reached over and grabbed my hands.

"Is there any way we could try again," Sam asked.

I stared down at our hands.

"Please," he was almost whispering.

I looked back up at his face. I missed him. I missed him so much. That was all I could think of as I watched him. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment.

"I love you," he muttered.

I finally moved and pressed my lips against his. I pulled my hands away from his and wrapped my arms around his neck. Sam's hands moved to my sides, pulling me closer to him.

As my back met the door, I felt everything around me relax. I grinned against his lips.

I was so happy to try again. I was so happy to have him with me again.

It felt like all was right again.

--Part Four: Possibly Promising--

And there we are again when nobody had to know You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

It had all worked out very well.

After our moment in the motel, everything went back to how it should've been.

We were happy again.

Sam was back to being the loving and caring guy that I had fallen for originally. We stopped arguing. Hunting became normal again. It all started going back to normal.

I had gotten so used to all of the good things.

The times when he didn't hesitate before kissing me. The mornings I woke up in his arms. The long drives spent bullying Dean into letting us change the music sometimes. Being able to hold Sam's hand whenever I wanted to.

It was all just so perfect.

I had even moved into the bunker full-time.

Sam had been very excited about that. You do not know comedy until you've seen a 6'4" man run around like a small puppy playing with a toy for the first time.

Love had become normal for us. It was everything I had dreamed of.

I didn't even think of something that was wrong until we had gone over to Jody's after a hunt. It was my first time actually meeting her, but I had heard countless stories. The brothers adored her.

We all sat around her table; the brothers, me, her, Claire, and Alex.

Dean was in the middle of a story about one of our latest hunts when I reached over to grab Sam's hand.

It took him maybe a second and a quick glance at me before his hand left mine, patting it twice before moving away. I brought my hand back toward myself and forced the smile to stay on my face.

Did he always do things like that in front of other people? Had I just never noticed?

I tried to ignore the feeling of Claire's eyes burning into the side of my head as I watched Dean telling the story.

I was going to talk to Sam about what had happened, but I didn't get a chance.

Once we got back to the bunker and Dean went to bed, Sam pressed his lips to mine. He managed to effectively take my attention away from the dinner situation.

"I love you," he mumbled as he kissed me again.

I muttered the same three words against his lips.

He made it all seem so simple during times like this.

Why couldn't he make me feel this loved outside of the moments we were alone? I wasn't expecting make-out sessions, but... why couldn't he hold my hand?

The thoughts were pushed out of my head as Sam moved to kiss my forehead and pull me close to him.

Maybe I was just being silly. Maybe this was just part of a normal relationship that I didn't understand.

Sam loved me. I knew that. That was all that mattered.

--Part Five: Maturity--

The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

I had tried.

I had tried to accept our normal. It wasn't going to be what I had seen in romantic films. I knew that. I could understand that.

However, there was only so long I could go without feeling like I was being hidden in some strange way.

I had tried to talk to him about it before. Every time I did, he would just kiss me and promise that he loved me. He would mutter something about trying to do better, and we would move on.

Nothing had changed.

I knew that.

He knew that.

I couldn't sit with it anymore. I couldn't sit with the anxiety anymore. I needed things to feel real. I loved him so much. I just wanted to know whether he actually felt the same or not.

"We need to talk," I said bluntly, suddenly sitting up in bed. If I had only asked to talk, he'd change the subject.

Sam had been resting against the headboard. I had been lying on his chest. He had been holding a book open for both of us to read.

"Okay," he replied slowly, closing the book and placing it on the bedside table.

"Is... Is there a reason you seem so... cold outside of the bunker," I asked.

"Cold," he repeated.

"Yeah," I nodded.

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You never kiss me or hold my hand or act like we're dating, really," I explained. "I just... I don't like getting the cold shoulder like that, Sam."

He sat up, reaching forward and touching my waist, "I'm sorry. You know that I love you-"

"Stop doing that," I cut him off. "I'm sorry, but every time I bring this up, you do the same thing. You promise that you love me, and you'll try to do better, but nothing changes. Just give me a genuine answer."

He blinked at me a few times. He was clearly caught off guard by my anger. He had been convinced that this situation had been handled.

"I just... I'm not used to the physical affection thing."

"Sam, I would believe that if we didn't use to be super affectionate all the time," I said. "It wasn't until months after we got back together that this started."

"You asked for a genuine answer-"

"And you gave me more bullshit," I snapped.

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up, walking over to his desk.

"What are you doing," I asked.

"Cooling off," he muttered. "Sorry that I wasn't expecting you to be so needy."

"Needy? I just want you to treat me like your partner," I corrected. "I don't need you to be all over me, but I'm saying it wouldn't hurt for you to hold my hand every now and then."

"Maybe I would be able to do that if my partner didn't act like a child all the time."

I scoffed, "You made the decision to date someone almost a decade younger than you. We both knew the age gap before we agreed to be together."

"Because I thought you were mature," he replied, turning to face me. "I didn't realize you would constantly be childish."

"I... I'm not being childish-"

"Yes, you are," he snapped, voice raising slightly. "You're seriously begging me to hold your hand. You don't see how immature that is? Are you not embarrassed?"

My jaw clenched, "Why should I be embarrassed? Are you?"

"I didn't say that," he said. "I said you should be."

"Well, I'm not," I replied. "I don't think I should be embarrassed for asking you to act like you love me."

He rolled his eyes.

"You just wanted someone pretty," I mumbled, tears filling my eyes. "Someone to give you everything you wanted with no argument. You just wanted someone to give you all that they had without you having to lift a finger."

When he didn't reply, I stood up.

"As soon as I ask for more than maybe the bare minimum, you clam up," I was shaking. "Oh my god. I'm so stupid."

He just watched as I grabbed my bag and started throwing some of my things in.

"What are you doing," he finally asked.

"I'm leaving," I said. "I... I can't be in a relationship where I feel like this. I am anxious every time we leave the bunker and not in the normal hunter way. I spend every drive wondering if you give a shit and I'd be more forgiving, but we've talked about this, and nothing has changed."

"(Y/n)-"

"Don't," I held a hand up as he stepped forward. "Don't kiss me and tell me you love me because you do that every single time and nothing ever fucking changes."

I zipped up the bag, knowing that I didn't have everything. I just didn't care about that at the time.

"Come on," Sam forced a chuckle. "Let's lay down and talk. Relax. Come on."

I shook my head, going to leave the room. Sam grabbed my wrist, causing me to stop.

He pressed his lips to the side of my head. His kiss moved to my temple to my cheek to my jaw. In between kisses, he would mumble how much he loved me and how much he wanted me to stay.

I finally managed to pull myself away, making it out of the room and heading toward the garage. We had gone from talking and arguing to just yelling at each other so fast.

"(Y/n), stop!"

"No, Sam! I gave you chances! Endless chances! I can't do it anymore!"

I continued walking as I made it to the main room.

"Stop! Get your ass back here and talk to me!"

"Why? So you can try and convince me to come back again! No, Sam! I am done!"

Sam grabbed my wrist again. This time, it hurt. I panicked, going purely into fight mode.

"Let me go!"

"What the hell are you doing," Dean shouted, storming in just as I had yanked my arm out of Sam's hold. He stepped between Sam and me.

My shoulders tensed and my body felt like it folded in slightly. It was like my body was trying to make itself smaller. I took a few steps back nervously.

I tried to tune out Sam and Dean arguing. I didn't want to have any part of this. I just wanted to leave. I didn't want to put some kind of wedge between them. I couldn't do that to them.

"Come on," Dean said softly as he walked over. "I'll walk you out."

"Hey-"

"Stay here, Sam," Dean snapped quickly.

I let Dean lead me to the garage. I put my bag in the backseat and went to walk over to the driver's side.

"(Y/n)," he said before I got in. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I blinked back a fresh wave of tears, "It's not your fault, Dean."

"I'll... I'll get the rest of your stuff to you," he promised. "I'll figure something out."

"Thanks," I forced a grin.

He nodded before stepping away from my car.

I got in the driver's seat and started the car. As I drove away, I felt a few tears fall from my eyes.

I had no idea what was next. I had no idea how long it was going to take for this to stop hurting. All I knew was that I needed to go. I needed to get out.

I needed to run for my sake. That was all that mattered to me.

--Part Six: Finding Baseline--

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

I never considered how difficult healing and moving on could be.

I spent months feeling like I was stuck in the same state. Scared, confused, sad, angry. All of it was just jumbled in my head and I had no idea how to sort through any of it.

That would've been hard enough if I never saw Sam again.

But we were both hunters. It wasn't a complete surprise when we ended up in the same town again.

We were both checking into the same motel. I was walking to my room from the office.

I don't think I would've noticed him if he had kept his mouth shut.

"(Y/n)!"

I froze. My heart felt like it jumped into my throat. I looked over at him. He was walking over.

I shook my head, snapping myself out of that stunned state. I turned toward my room, starting to walk to the door as fast as I could.

"Hey-"

I turned around, shoving Sam away hard as he tried to grab my hand.

"Don't," I snapped.

"Hey," he held his hands up. "I just... I just wanted to talk."

"I don't want to," I replied. "Not at all."

"We just... We ended really suddenly," he continued. "I want a better understanding of what happened."

"Are you kidding? You have no idea?"

"Not enough to understand this reaction."

"You are not that stupid, Sam."

"I just want some closure," he pushed.

I scoffed and turned around, going to continue my walk. Sam let out a sigh before going to grab my hand again. I yanked it out of his reach.

"It is not my job to explain what you did wrong! Especially when it's so obvious!"

"How am I supposed to-"

"I don't fucking know, go see a therapist," I replied. "I just know that I'm not going to drag up all of that pain just so you can give me some half-assed apology and sleep a little better at night!"

He clenched his jaw.

"I would give anything to go back to the night we met and just leave after I killed that witch," I said. "Then, I would still be the same person I was before. I wouldn't have all of these memories that play on a constant loop. I wouldn't be having to work through so much shit before I felt normal again. I don't get to do that. You don't get to take the easy way out either. Do the fucking work, Sam. I am."

I turned around and started walking away before he could say anything else. I'd find another hunt somewhere. I just couldn't stay here any longer.

I threw the key into the motel room, not risking going back to the office.

As I pulled out of the motel parking lot, tears filled my eyes. I rolled down my window, letting the songs on the radio wash over me.

I just wanted to be myself again. I wanted to feel right again.

Why was that taking so damn long?

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there Down the stairs, I was there, I was there Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there It was rare, you remember it

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 05x22

Swan Song

“Do we know about this fuck yet?” Back in the day, there was speculation that Chuck was god

Laughed at Dean

Framed Dean’s face with his hands

“I thought a snowball’s chance had to do with white rabbits and their testicles not a snowball’s chance in hell” “Rabbit testicles” “I suppose Snowball the rabbit wouldn’t have a chance in hell so I guess it works out either way” 🎶Don’t get blood on your ankles🎶

“There were too many references in that whole sequence. Downtown Mo-Town. Devil’s in Detroit” “ha ha ha” “Was Dean thinking about Cas in another way? Dean’s like oh shit - you got me. Busted” “How would Lucifer know about the rings?” “Promise me that you’ll find another sidekick” Pray to God that Lisa is dumb enough to take you in

DE-TROIT BASKETBALL

“I’m pretty certain it’s not actually Detroit” Laughing at Cas

“Fkn nerd” “Thats a lot of red food coloring” “Don’t bother wiping off your fkn lips you nerd” “I know they gotta do it for effects but you gotta be self-conscious about it” “That was easy” “Yeah, but the car will never smell like crayons” OK so for those who don’t know - it’s common for mid-2000s VW Beetles specifically to smell like crayons “That was easy” “You’re fucked now” “Pretty cool effect though” “Gross” “MFEO?” East Lan-SING

“Why are all these TVs in the window?” “Junkless huh? How would he know? Is that an angel thing?” “What’s Jayhawks?” Idk sports ball

“How full of yourself do you have to be to say that, Chuck?” “why would he call it a boneyard if they just said cemetery?” “That’s a really weird thing to do over the phone. Like re-clarify” “Guess who’s trespassing?” “He looks like the kind of person to be into falconry” “I love how they kinda are fighting the same battles like Sam and dean” It’s called parallels

“Yeah I guess” “Really?” “After all that extra lighting they have” Laughed at assbutt

“I didn’t see that coming” Then we rewound 4x

“That was very abrupt” “Even the cut felt abrupt.” “That’s a lot of reverb yo” Laughed at Dean and Cas

“That’s rather unfortunate” “Do we not have him for a whole season now?” No, we get one of my favorite storylines next season (godstiel) “It’s almost like he forgets that he’s human every so often” “That was a helluva long sequence. They already prepped us for that, but I guess we could be on a piss break. Maybe they ran out of content. Holy shit” “Don’t take your time” “I didn’t see that coming, but they’re going to give it this whole moment” “YOU FORGOT TO JUMP INTO THE HOLE. LUCIFER COULD TAKE OVER ANY MINUTE. WHAT ARE YOU DOING????” “I didn’t see that coming” “Michael gets in there too? Shit. I must have been drunk and high when we first watched this.” “Assbutt” “Daddy’s back” “Is Bobby able to walk?” “Hard as a nail. On the wall. That you backed into” “They were just prepping you for the shitty ending here” Laughing at Dean and Cas interaction

“He sucks at goodbyes yo” Started singing “Down in a Hole” by Alice In Chains

“Finally a reference I got and you didn’t” “Which Dayton? There’s a lot of them. It’s even a last name and shit” “Isn’t she married?” “Fkn worthless home security stickers” “Fkn drama school piano” “The end” “So that was like suspicions confirmed for everyone when he fucked off?” “So we already met Chuck”

“Oh you’re fucked now Dean” “Can you ever truly be happy knowing he’s out to fkn get you?”

#beautifulspouserewatchesspn #supernatural rewatch #supernatural s5 #supernatural s05 #supernatural

[hahahahahangst]

All or nothing (Be The Young 7)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

All or nothing

My heart is still recovering From the heartbreak of another kind I'm still drying my tears Getting over my own fears In my life So I want to make sure this time That I'm strong enough To give it my all .

“Please, please tell me you have a lead.” Said Emily, lightly banging her head on the table. They were at a cafe’, looking for a new gig to follow. Few weeks had passed and nobody had ever spoken about her going berserk after finding their dad. They had been cold on any leads for a while and Emily was anxious to get back to hunting.

Dean was reading the newspaper, Sam was at his laptop and Emily was at hers.

“Well, a woman fell 10 thousand feet and survived.” Said Dean, with an interrogative tone.

“Now, that’s lame.” Sighed his sister. 

“Maybe we could go back to New York, say hello to Sarah again?” Said the eldest, elbowing Sam and referring to a girl they had met a couple of gigs prior. Sam, however, looked distracted. 

“I think I got something worth checking out.” He said, not taking his eyes off the screen. “A man named Daniel Elkins, in Colorado, was mauled in his home. The police cannot figure it out.” 

Dean’s eyes lit at the name. He grabbed their dad’s journal and started flicking through it. About halfway through he stopped and slid it towards Sam and Emily. 

It said D Elkins, 970-555-0158. 

“Do you think it’s the same Elkins?” Asked Emily, pulling the journal closer. 

Later that day, they were traveling towards Colorado. Emily sat in the back of the Impala reading something on her laptop, while Sam was snoring lightly in the front-seat. Dean was driving and everything went pretty much silent, only the music and the sound of the engine echoing in the almost empty street. Emily looked outside the car and enjoyed the rare moment of total calm. There was no fighting, no picking at each other, no pain. There had not been for a while. Dean had been weirdly kind to her: she was unsure if out of pity or if he actually decided to be a decent human being to her. However, she enjoyed every second of finally being treated like a little sister. Dean had gone so far as to show her how to tap in the police radio and Sam would let her choose where they would eat, even if she always chose the worst fast food place in the town. Soon, it was night. Emily kept Dean company for the rest of the journey, occasionally commenting on what they would see on the road. 

When they arrived in Colorado, the three of them settled down in a motel. Sam fell asleep again right after touching the hard mattress, but Emily hung around, reading a book she got from a gas station. Dean was also awake, on the other side of the room. She felt itchy behind her neck, her body signaling her that someone was staring at her. 

“Stop staring at me.” She said, low enough to not wake up Sam. Dean cleared his voice and the tingling stopped, just to resume a couple of seconds later. “Dude.” Emily closed the book. 

Dean hesitated for a second, then stood up, threw her jacket to her, wore his and opened the door. “We need to talk.” He said. Emily looked at Dean, confused, as he hurriedly gestured towards the door. She followed him out. 

Dean leaned on his car. She did the same, but kept her distances. 

“So…“ she said, after a minute of sitting in silence. ”...what did you want to talk about?” 

“It's Sam. He started to have these… episodes.” Emily looked more confused than before, 

”...episodes? What do you mean?” she asked. 

“He's been… uh- dreaming. About things. People dying, usually in a violent way.” Emily let Dean speak. “These dreams, they… they seem to be predicting the future. We do not know why he's having them or what they mean, but they haven't been wrong yet.” The girl sat in silence and nodded. “I just thought you should know.” Concluded Dean. The both of them stayed on the hood of the car, in complete silence. 

“Why did I not know?” 

“Sam didn’t want to make you worry, but I figured it was better if you did.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Alright.” 

The following morning, she woke up to Dean snoring. Sun was shining through the motel rooms, drawing beams of light all over the place. Sam was not in his bed, but she heard the sound of a keyboard ticking, which meant he was already up and researching something. She indulged in the comfort of the bed for a few minutes before getting out of bed and at work.

Later in the day they drove to Elkins' cabin. Sam lockpicked the door while Dean and Emily looked around, making sure to not be watched. They all turned on their flashlights while entering. The cabin was messy, destroyed, as if someone was looking for something desperately. Windows and doors were protected with salt, which suggested to them that Elkins was trying to protect himself.

“Do you think this guy was a hunter?” Asked Emily, touching the salt and visibly confused.

“Well that is not an oops I spilled the popcorn amount of salt.” Said Dean, while taking a journal from the table. “Look what I got here.” 

The journal looked very similar to the one John used: it was old and made of leather, pages often with something glued or slightly ruined with time. It also dated way farther than John's. 

They took the journal and moved to another room, where more destruction was scattered. The roof had a hole in it. On the floor, there were several scratches, one of which immediately caught her eye. She tried to look at them closer, but even with the light she wasn't able to read them properly. She could swear, however, that they were letters. Dean joined her and he used a piece of paper to get the outline: it was a sequence of letters and numbers, just like their father did, indicating the coordinates to a post office.

“How do you think this guy knew dad?” Asked Emily while they were driving back towards the city. 

“Well the coordinates, the journal: maybe they both have a military past, maybe they ran the marines together.” Dean answered her, focused on the street. 

“If it were like that I would have expected to see dad around.” 

“Maybe he doesn't know or maybe they weren't that much of friends.” 

Emily answered with a sigh and looked at the snowy mountains in the distance. “Do you think we will see him again?” She said a while later. Sam, who for the entire conversation had been looking in front of him, absentminded, now looked at her. 

“Of course we will, Emily. I just hope he's got a good plan.” 

“Of course he has.” Argued Dean. 

When they got into the post office, Dean stayed in the car while Sam and Emily went and opened the box. They found a single item: an envelope, marked JW, as in John Winchester. “Or Johnatan Weiner. No way to tell for sure.” Joked Emily. “Do you think this is for dad?”

“That would be too much of a coincidence if it weren't.” 

They spoke while walking out of the post office, walking towards the car. Emily was just about to ask her brother if he thought they should open it, when they saw Dean speaking with a taller, larger man that they immediately recognized as their father. 

“Dad, what are you doing here, are you alright?” She sped up her pace to meet him.

“It’s okay, I read the news about Daniel and then I saw you at his place. Good job covering your tracks by the way.” Dean smiled proudly and was about to say something, but Emily interrupted him. 

“Dad, why did you come all over here for this guy?” She questioned, willing to know more, as she sat back in the backseat.

“He was a good man, he taught me a lot. We had a.. uh- a falling out years ago.” He explained, coldly. Then, he pointed at the letter Emily was still holding on her lap. “Give me that.” He opened the envelope and started reading, whispering comments here and there, until he stopped, looking surprised. “He had it all along.” 

The three siblings looked at each other. “What?” Said Sam and Emily. Their dad seemed to become more agitated. 

“When you were at his apartment, did you- uh- did you see a gun? A Colt revolver, very old.” They looked at each other. “Did you see it?” He repeated. 

“There was an old case that would have fit that kind of gun.” said Dean after pondering for a second “but it was empty.” 

John looked at Dean, Sam and Emily, one by one, as if he was expecting someone to come up and say that the gun had been there all along. However, nobody did. Mostly, Sam and Emily seemed confused, the more confused every word their dad said. 

“They have it.” He murmured before getting out of the car. “We gotta pick up the trail.” John continued, getting out of the car. Dean was the first one to follow him, but Emily and Sam quickly caught up, ready to question their father. 

“Why is this gun important?” Asked Emily. In the same exact moment, Sam also asked a question: “Do you really want us to come with you?” 

“Who are they?” She also asked.

Emily heard Dean sigh in frustration, probably missing the times where he only had to deal with one questioning sibling at the time. She looked at him sideways, taking in a glimpse of his mood. John, however, was very quick to cut it short. “It's important because I say so.” He said. 

“We don't even know what we are going after!” Continued Emily, trying to get at least clarity on what to expect. 

“You don't, I do. Vampires. Let's meet back at the motel.” John said, stern and cold. He then got onto his truck and started driving. Dean did the same. 

“You two really are siblings, uh?” Asked Dean, slightly bitter. “Can't take an order even if it costs your life.” 

“This is not about orders, Dean.” Answered back Emily. “It’s about safety. He wasn’t even going to tell us what we were after.” 

“That is the definition of order, Emily, they are not meant to be understood, they are meant to be followed. No discussions, no sarcasm. We already went over this I do not know how many times.” 

“Yeah, and we will keep doing it, as long as you are wrong and I am right.” Emily smiled sarcastically. She was not in the mood to fight about that and she was trying extremely hard to not get too upset about anything. She could still feel on her skin how much out of control she felt the last time. Sam, instead, was not happy to settle it with a joke. 

“Dean, Emily is not wrong, dad is just ordering us around as if we were children: do you really not think we deserve to know a little more?” Dean dismissed Sam with an annoyed gesture and by making the music louder. 

Back at the motel, nobody picked up the topic. In fact, nobody spoke. 

The following morning, Emily was the second one to wake up. Her dad was already (or still) awake, listening to the police radio. Since she was still half asleep, she could not elaborate what the radio said, but John woke her and her brothers up by calling them all urgently. He urged them to leave immediately and before Emily had the time to realize what was happening, they were already at a crime scene. John ordered them to stay in the car. Emily was about to get upset at him and try to fight, but she tried to rationalize it: there was no point in showing up in four people, risking to be caught as fake agents. 

“I don't understand why we have to stay in the car.” Argued Sam while looking at his dad talking with the policemen. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh please, not again.” Emily was about to back up Sam’s words, but John was suddenly back with the info needed. “They are heading west, we should move.” 

“How do you know?” Asked Sam, angry. Dean sighed and tried to stop him. 

While Emily felt a little less weird knowing that someone else in the family was uncomfortable with the way John talked to them, she was also not on board with how Sam behaved. Before their father was back the previous day he had been the most empathetic, understanding human being, but after that he went back to being his old self: obsessed, nervous and kind of annoying.

“I just want to know if we are going in the right direction!” Sam kept discussing. 

“We are.” Said John. He then stayed silent, looking at Sam. “Any other questions?” None of the siblings answered, so he proceeded to get into his car and start driving. Dean followed him. 

While he was driving, he threw Emily the journal they had found at the cabin. “See what you can find on vampires.” He said. She started reading, until she found a paragraph that reminded her of the crime scene they just visited. She read it out loud. 

“Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food...Uh- Victims are taken to the nest, where the pack keeps them alive for weeks or days…“ She kept reading for a second. “That doesn't sound fun. I wonder if that’s what happened to the couple.”

Dean nodded, but Sam was still grumpy from the last discussion with his father. “Yeah, maybe dad thinks that too. Of course, it would be nice if he told us so.” 

“Oh god, so it's really going to be like this from now on?” Argued back Dean. “We've been looking for dad all year and you can't keep peace for two hours?” He looked at Sam, then at Emily. “I did not think I was ever going to say this, but for the first time ever Emily is causing me way less problems than you are.” 

“Dean, I am very happy that dad is back.” Said Sam. “But it's just the way he treats us, like we are children.” Dean scoffed. “Come on, all he does is bark orders, we are not even allowed to ask questions!” The eldest brother waited for Sam to finish. Then he looked back at Emily. 

“Well first of all: Emily is a child.” She tried to interrupt him to argue, but he kept going. “I don't care how old you are, Emily: it's how you act. Second of all: you know that there is no time to chat: we need to act and we need to act fast, without error. Because err-”

“Errors cost lives, yeah Dean, we know all of this.” Said Emily. “But look at everything we went through just to find him! We deserve to be treated a little bit better than this, don’t you think?”

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