#Cecelia Dean

[tsukiyo-7]

Sam from time to time, especially when he was a teen, would quote Possibly in Michigan, word for word, down to the exact unnerving tone, and freak the hell out of Dean because despite all the horror he has seen in real life that movie has always given him the creeps and of course Sam would love it.

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

This was wonderful! It’s sexy and wonderfully fluffy!

Mutualism

Author: tiamatv Artist: xfancyfranart (@xfancyfranart) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Featured characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam, Bobby, Rufus, Jack Featured relationships: Dean/Castiel, past Dean/Lisa, minor Bobby/Rufus Length: 30,000 words Tags:  Alternate Universe - Underwater Creatures; Merman Dean; Cecaelia Castiel; Cultural Differences; Meet-Cute; Neighbors; They're Legs, Not Tentacles; Alternate Biology

Summary:  Dean's a mer-dude (shut up, Sam, that's totally a word) who lives on the edge of the reef, far away from the mer-colony. He's not lonely: the hunting's better, he doesn't end up confused by anyone else's echolocating song, and he's got the cutest little clutch of clownfish as watch-fish for his ledge.

And he's got Cas. Who might not be a mer, but he's something even better: a cecaelia, with eight clever octopus legs and an obsession with making sure that Dean gets to try all the treats the reef can offer.

(Dean pays him back by teaching him to kiss. Cas never fails to collect.)

Bobby claims that cecaelias don't mate. That they don't bond. That they don't form families. But that old sand dollar can mind his own business: Cas and Dean are just having a good time and clouding up the water together, after all.

Right?

Link to Fic | Link to Art

[foolondahill17]

Don't even look at me. I'm thinking about a Hunger Games/Supernatural AU, but I'm not talking the Dean=Katniss story that's been done before.

I'm talking Dean is 18, it's his last reaping. He, Sam, and John live in District 8 with John's second wife Kate, and half-brother Adam.

Dean is, of course, the male tribute for the 68th Hunger Games. Jo is the female tribute. When saying goodbye, Dean makes Sam swear not to take on any tesserae. Dean also promises Ellen that he'll die making sure Jo comes home.

Jo and Dean are mentored by previous District 8 victors, Woof and Cecelia. Dean is immediately favored among those who will win. He's one of the oldest and strongest. Plus, he's resourceful and charming, and his good looks are sure to get sponsors. The Careers, including Eldon Styne from District 1 and Cole Trenton from District 2, try to make allies with Dean, but he refuses.

Instead, he's drawn to the younger tributes: he becomes allies with Charlie and Kevin from district 3, and, of course, Jo.

Kevin is killed in the initial bloodbath. Dean fails in his promise to keep Jo safe when she's killed by Mutts, viscious black dogs called Hellhounds. Charlie is brutally killed by Styne.

Alone, Dean makes reluctant allies with Benny, from District 11 - the two of them are the last beside the Careers. Dean eventually kills Styne in revenge but, gasp, Benny and Dean are now the last of the victors. Benny - overcome with shame for his actions during the Games - kneels at Dean's feet and bares his neck. Dean takes off his head only so he can return to Sammy.

Post-games, Finnick tells Dean to disfigure his face in the bathroom, but Dean doesn’t heed this warning. Enter Alastair - a powerful military commander in the Capital - who's intrigued by Dean's shows of ruthlessness and buys Dean as his "pet." Dean begins to use his position as Alastair's plaything to learn Capital military secrets.

During his time back in District 8, Dean doesn't fare well. He's wracked by guilt and trauma, retreating into himself. Behind the scenes, Sam joins the rebels, something Dean tries to ignore.

Sam is one of the District 8 rebels to insight a small-scale rebellion during the 75th reaping, in which Dean is relieved - and sickened by himself - not to be reaped again for the Quarter Quell. In response to this rebellion, Sam's fiance - Jess - is killed in the Capital's retaliatory bombing.

There's an increase in peacekeepers in District 8. When Dean gets between the peacekeepers and Sam (wild with grief over Jess), one of the peacekeepers is puzzled by his behavior.

That's right: it's Castiel. Youngest son of Capital elite, Cas has been expelled from University for rebel-sympathies and conscripted into the peacekeepers. He gets Dean and Sam out of trouble and, intrigued by Dean, begins spending a little too much time in Victor's Village.

Dean, against his best efforts, is drawn toward Castiel. He sees in him a familiar beast: someone half-Capital half-District, as Dean, himself, now feels due to his time in the Games and spent on Alastair's arm.

Cas and Dean fall in love, as they're wont to do, and plan to make their escape. Dean, from his time with Alastair, knows the layout of Panem and its outside borders.

Outright rebellion breaks out. District 8 is heavily bombed, killing John, Kate, and Adam. Dean wants to flee to Panem's southern border, convinced there must be a world outside their country, but Sam convinces Dean his knowledge from Alastair will help the rebels. Eventually, the three of them agree to stay and fight. Dean's military know-how aid Commander Paylor. Etc. Etc. The rebels emerge victorious.

Dean is unable to remain with his nightmares in Panem. He and Cas head south, toward the wasteland beyond the border. They eventually cross into new territory, coming across land owned by Jesse and Cesar. Hopeful that a good life can still be found in the wilderness, Dean and Cas take root and grow.

[aliypop]

Soldier Boy: Chapter 2: Catfish On a Pole

Word count: 1,517

Prompt: December 25th, 1957 Elvis Presley receives his draft papers moments after his Engagement

Warning: None so far

Note: This has become a series, I hope you all like it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Taglist:

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

@everythingelvispresley

@dreamondina94

@elvismylove04

@pocketfulofpresley

@elvispresley1956

@poeandmoonknightgirl

December 25th, 1957 Graceland,

As Cecelia lay restlessly in their shared bed, her mind raced with unfulfilled thoughts while she tossed and turned beneath the rumpled sheets. She could feel the contours of the mattress shift with every movement, yet sleep eluded her. Beside her, Elvis remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, where shadows danced in the dim light. The weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air. He anxiously contemplated what the new remaining months of 1958 would bring for them both. With each passing moment, the uncertainties of their future loomed larger, filling the quiet room with an unshakeable tension.

"Baby, can we please talk or somethin'? I'm gonna go mad if I keep sitting here thinkin'!" Cecelia interjected as Elvis glanced at her, "I thought you'd never ask… What'dya wanna talk about?" he asked as Cecelia began to ponder topics.

"Well…"

"Hmm?"

"What about superheroes?"

"Nah…"

"New music?" Elvis asked.

"Nah."

“Movies?” The moment the word escaped her lips, a dazzling light flickered in his radiant blue eyes, illuminating his face with excitement. He looked up at her, his anticipation palpable. “Movies it is…” she responded with a soft giggle, the sound light and playful, filling the air with joy.

"So I'm in this movie called, uh… King Creole, and Cece, I'm really proud about it. It's a serious movie, like James Dean and Them." Cecelia couldn’t help but giggle as she listened to his voice, filled with playful excitement. He rambled on about the production, his enthusiasm infectious, and she felt like a kid again, captivated by his every word. "I know you are, and I'm proud of you." Cecelia smiled as Elvis blushed. "I heard you got a few shows coming up," Elvis said as he nudged her. Cecelia rolled her eyes at him playfully, "It ain't nothin' special, but yes, the girls and I have a few shows coming up." She chuckled as Elvis gazed into her eyes.

"What if I can't give you everything you need?" he said, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Baby…" she whispered softly, trying to reassure him.

He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed with worry. "No, really. What if, when I leave, we start to drift apart? What if all the moments we've shared begin to fade away?" His heart raced as he spoke, each word heavy with the weight of his fears.

"Elvis… We could never drift apart," Cecelia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she gathered him closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "Our love is… different. It's rare." She gazed deeply into his eyes, searching for a flicker of doubt to erase. "I don’t want you to think like that, okay?" With a tender smile, she pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like an embrace.

January 20th, 1958 Louisiana

The clock had struck midnight in Louisiana, and the dim light of Elvis's hotel room cast long shadows across the walls. He sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, feeling fatigue and restlessness wash over him. After a long day of filming scenes for his latest movie, King Creole, a wave of homesickness enveloped him, making the polished hotel décor feel even more foreign.

As he gazed out the window at the flickering neon lights of the bustling streets below, an idea sparked in his mind. He picked up the phone, hoping to reach his fiancée. He envisioned her dazzling on stage, wrapped in the glow of the spotlight, but he longed for the warmth of her voice. With a hopeful heart, he dialed, eager for a connection that would bridge the miles and ease his loneliness.

He truly valued his engagement to a woman who mirrored his strengths and passions, someone who was not only his partner but also his intellectual equal in nearly every aspect of life. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filled with shared insights and laughter that brightened their days. However, as night descended and the quiet enveloped him, an overwhelming sense of loneliness washed over him. The stillness of the room amplified the ache within him during those restless hours when insomnia took hold. He missed the warmth of her body next to him, the way she would gently stroke his hair and sing soft melodies that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, easing his mind and coaxing his troubles away. The absence of her familiar presence left a void that was difficult to fill, making the nights feel longer and more daunting.

Cecelia was acutely aware of the overwhelming presence of Elvis in her life. It seemed as if he was everywhere she looked. Elvis's iconic face grinned at her from the brightly colored posters plastered on the walls, his smooth voice echoed through television commercials that interrupted her thoughts, and even the girls at her concerts sported merchandise emblazoned with his name and image. Yet, despite this pervasive connection to the legend, she found it was a mere shadow of the experience of having the real Elvis in front of her a palpable presence she could reach out to, admire, and perhaps even embrace. The thought of sharing a moment with him, of feeling the warmth of his charisma…

“Alright, girls, goodnight,” Denise said warmly as she bid farewell to The Garnets, watching as they dispersed in different directions, chatting and giggling as they went. Cecelia hurried to her room, her heart racing with excitement as she anticipated the comfort of her bed.

As she entered, she heard her mother’s voice call after her. “Cece…”

“Yes, Mother?” Cecelia responded, her tone slightly impatient as she took off her shoes.

“The front desk just called to let me know that your room phone has been ringing off the hook,” Denise said, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

Without waiting for another word, Cecelia dashed across the room, her bare feet hitting the cool floor as she flopped onto her bed and reached for the phone. She felt a mix of anxiety and urgency as she fumbled for the receiver.

Denise shook her head, a hint of disbelief crossing her face. Meanwhile, Elvis sat in a nearby room, feeling increasingly discouraged as he waited for her to answer. He couldn’t shake off a wave of worry. He hoped she was okay, that she was being honest with him, or at the very least, that she was just preoccupied and nothing more.

“Hello?” Elvis finally said, the tension in his voice palpable as she answered the phone.

"ELVY WELVY BEAR!" Cecelia shouted as he laughed, "Hey honey, I missed you," He smiled as he could hear her grinning, "Me too…" She responded by kicking her feet up and swinging them,  "How's filming?" "How's the show?" "You go first…" "No, you…"  "No, you…" "Cece…" "El…"  “Lonely…” they echoed, their voices merging in a haunting harmony. “Can’t sleep without you…” Elvis let out a heavy sigh, the weight of their words settling in his chest. “And when I try to close my eyes, I—I toss and turn, always restless, caught in a cycle of sleeplessness. It’s like my mind won’t quiet down. So, I end up reaching for a book, hoping to lose myself in its pages, but even that can’t chase away the emptiness that keeps me awake.”

"And then get reminded of you not reading them out loud to me?" She asked as he laughed, Cecelia knew him so well it was scary,  "Yeah… I…"   "HEY ROSA GIVE ME MY DRUMSTICKS !" Elvis paused as he shook his head, "You what…" "Nothing," He shook his head, as he kept trying to focus on what he was saying,  "I wish you were here right now…" 

"Me too- HEY CARLOTTA GIVE ROSA HER DRUMS…"

Elvis blinked, listening intently as it sounded like Cecelia's voice was coming from the wall behind him. "Sorry, baby, the girls are acting crazy…" He heard the door open as he pulled the phone as far as he could, peeking his head out the door. "No worries, honey…"

"Excuse me for one second," she said as she stepped out of her hotel room. Taking a deep breath, she yelled, "YOU TWO ARE FIGHTING LIKE CHILDREN!"

"Ladies…"

"Hi, Elvis!" Rosa waved. Cecelia's phone slipped from her grasp, hitting the ground with a dull thud, but she paid it no mind as she hurried over to Elvis. He enveloped her in a warm, tight embrace, pulling her close as the world around them faded away. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that felt electric, igniting a spark of joy between them that left her breathless. "Wanna help me fall asleep…" "Gladly…" She mumbled as the girls egged them on like school girls in a courtyard, Rosa playfully grinned, narrowing her eyes in mock seriousness. "Oh, just wait until I tell your mama about this!" she teased, her laughter dancing in the air. "Tell her what, her daughter's kissing her fiance." Elvis stuck his tongue out as the girls all gasped, "When did this happen?" Carlotta asked, a bit heartbroken, "Christmas…" Cecelia smirked.

[gracec252]

Please read: Baby name lists just from google put into one post don't judge need a way to compact this into a document before changing computer I put so much work into this I need it saved                                                            

A

Aries 

Aylee 

Annie 

Addelyn 

Alexa 

Aspen 

Ainsley

Adelaide

Amberlyn 

Ariella 

Ava 

Ameilia 

Adley 

Alabama

Alma 

April 

Abby/Abigail 

Ally/Allison 

Ambree 

Aurelia 

Aurora 

Alana 

Addison 

Arizona 

Audrey 

Alyssa

Atlanta 

Alexandria 

Ambrose

Athena 

Anastassia 

Alice  

A 

Andrew

Alec 

Axel 

Asher 

Arlo

Atlas 

Arrow 

Alfie 

Atticus 

Archer 

Ace 

Alexander

Austin 

Abel 

Augustine 

Avi

Atlas

Ason 

A

Avery 

Andie 

Ash

August 

Atlas 

Aero

Aj

Area 

Adventure

Ackley 

Aster

Apollo 

B

Brigette 

Bonnie 

Bea 

Bexley 

Bailee 

Bristol 

Betty 

Bay 

Billie 

Blair 

Brixton 

Brynn 

Berlin 

Beverly 

Bloom 

Brighton

Britain 

Beatice 

Brooklyn 

Brinley

Brexley

B

Brandon 

Beck 

Beckett 

Baker

Brody 

Brooke 

Brett 

Bryce 

Benj

Bennet 

Braxton 

Bradley 

Bracken 

Bryson 

Bowen 

Braydon 

Bruno 

Bryson 

Bennett

B

Blake 

Bishop 

Bailey 

Bentley 

Bellamy 

Blaize 

Boston 

Brogan 

Brantley 

Brixton 

C 

Carolyn 

Cynthina 

Cora

Cece

Candace 

Constance 

Clara 

Cameriegh 

Camrie 

Chole 

Callie 

Cecily 

Charlotte 

Cassie 

Clover 

Cordelia 

Cheyenne 

Clementine 

Cecelia 

Celeste

Chastity 

Cleo 

Calla 

Cassia 

Calliope 

Caroline 

Carolina

Cheyenne

Charlotte 

C

Collin 

Charles 

Connor 

Colton 

Callan 

Cash 

Colt 

Cole 

Callum 

Chase

Cohen 

Cooper

Corbin 

Cullen 

Caesar 

Colson 

Crew 

Chase 

Cooper  

Cash 

Castor 

Clay/Clayton 

C 

Camden 

Carter

Caden 

Carlan 

Camryn 

Carson 

Chandler

Channing 

Cory 

Callahan

Cadence 

Corbin 

D 

Della 

Daphne 

Demi 

Dana 

December 

Davina 

Daisy 

Dalaney 

D

Daniel 

Dean 

Delcan  

Diesel 

Derek 

Deaco

Damon 

Dain 

Dalen 

Dani 

Deven

Dakota 

Denver 

Drew

Dagen 

E

Evie 

Evelyn

Everlee 

Ella 

Emmy 

Esme 

Emily 

Eden 

Eleanor 

Ellie 

Ellis 

Elise 

Edith 

Eve 

Ensley 

Elizabeth 

Edith 

Emma 

Eliza 

Ericka 

Erina 

Emerald 

Emely

Eloise

E

Erza

Eric 

Evan 

Emory

Edison 

Elijah 

Edward 

Eaton 

Elian 

E

Everett 

Elliot 

Eston 

Ember 

Emmett 

Ellison 

F

Faith 

Flora 

Fern 

Felicity 

Florence 

Faye 

Fiona 

F

Freddie 

Finn

Finch 

Fox 

Forrest 

Foster

Falcon 

Ford 

Felix 

F

Frankie 

Fenton 

Finley 

Flynn

G

Gwen 

Gabby 

Georgie 

Georgia 

Gemma 

German 

Gianna 

Ginger 

Glory 

Grace 

Gia 

G 

Gabe 

Grey 

Graham 

Gale 

Gavin 

Grant 

Gannon 

Gunner

G 

Gabriel 

Greyson 

Grey

H

Harmony 

Hazel

Honnor 

Haelynn 

Haven 

Heidi 

Hollis 

Hannah 

Hadley 

Haeley

Hannah 

Helena 

Harriet

H 

Hugo 

Harris 

Harry 

Hayden 

Holt 

Hunter

Hamilton 

Holden 

H 

Holland 

Harlem 

Hudson 

Hal 

Harley 

Hartley 

Haslett

Huntley 

Hurley 

Huston 

Hunter

Hollow 

Huxley

I

Isla 

Ivy 

Indigo 

Iris 

Ivory 

Ida

Izzy 

Isabella 

Indie 

I 

Ian 

Israel

I 

J

Jane 

Joan 

June 

Jacy 

Juniper 

Joise 

Jenna 

Jade 

Juliet 

Jaclyn 

Josephine 

Judith

J 

Jack

Jaxs

Joseph 

James 

Justin 

Jacob 

Jasper 

Julius 

Jackson 

Jonas 

Jalen 

Joel 

Jonah 

Judson 

Jayden 

Jagger 

Jett

J

Jamson 

Jamie 

Jo

Jude 

K

Kathleen 

Kennedy 

Kynzlee

Kaylee 

Kora

Kamila 

Kamie 

Kailani 

Kira

Karmen 

Kimber 

Kate 

Kada

Kapri

Kaizlee

Kenley 

Kayte

Kingsley 

Kaelyn 

Kenna 

Kacie 

Kelsey 

Kinsley 

Kiwesten 

Kaleah 

K 

Kane 

Koa 

Kingston 

Kole

Kaleeb 

Kale 

Kash 

Kalvin 

Karlton 

King 

Keon 

Kruz

Kyler

K 

Kai

Kohen 

Kameron 

Karter 

Kasey 

Kassidy

Kendall 

Kody 

Korbyn 

Karson 

Knox 

Krew

L 

Lauren 

Lily 

Laken 

Lana 

Layla 

Lane 

Lia 

Lila 

London 

Leighton 

Lacy 

Lettie

Lydia 

Lilac

Layne 

Libra

Lexie 

Lena 

L 

Louis 

Lee 

Leo 

Laim 

Lucah 

Levi 

Lux 

Ledger 

Lincoln 

Lathan 

Landon 

L

Leighton 

Lyric 

M

Mars 

Mary 

Mabel 

Marie

Mae

Marlow 

Maeve 

Maddison 

Molly 

Mila 

Maisie 

Madeline 

Margaret 

Miley 

Meredith 

Mia 

Marigold 

Mariana 

Marlow 

Mayven 

Macy 

Maelie 

Magnolia 

Madalyn 

Marley 

Meadow 

Mel 

Meilani 

Maggie 

M

Milo 

Maverick 

Miles 

Mathis  

Mateo 

Matthew

Madden 

Malakai

Maddox 

M 

Memphis 

Micah

Morgan 

Mason 

Max

Maxton 

N 

Nova 

Navy 

Norah 

Naomi

Natalia 

N 

Noah 

Nico

Nash 

Nathan 

Nolan 

Niles 

N 

Noel 

O 

Olive 

Oliva 

Oaklee 

Opal 

Ophelia 

O 

Oscar 

Oliver 

Otis 

Owen 

O 

Ocean

Oak 

P

Penelope 

Phoebe 

Poppy

Persephone 

Peggy 

Paige 

Paisley 

Piper 

Pearl 

Penny 

Paris 

Presley 

P

Palmer 

 Porter 

P 

Phoenix 

Parker 

Paxton 

Pierce 

Q

Quinn 

Q

Q

R

Remy 

Ruth 

Ranye

Raelle

Rosie 

Raylee 

Roselind

Ruby 

Rilynn

Reese

Riya 

Rainney 

Rae-lynn 

Rain 

Reagan 

Renee

Raven

Rose

Ruth 

R

Rhett

Reid 

Rayson

Romen 

Rylan 

R

River 

Rory 

Rowen 

Ryder

Ryker 

Romeo 

Rio

Rome 

Reef

Ryland 

Royal

Raiden

S

Stella

Space

Sadie 

Sutton 

Soren

Seattle 

Scotlynn 

Story 

Sage 

Sapphire 

Savannah 

Shiloh 

Skye

September 

Sual 

Sophia 

Scarlett 

Stephine 

Sabrina 

S 

Stephen 

Sillas

Sebastian 

Sawyer 

Spencer 

Shawn 

S

Skyler 

Samson

Shai 

Saylor 

Salem 

Scout 

Storm 

Saint 

Stellan 

Sparrow 

Sloan 

Shane 

T

Tia 

Tayliee

Thalia 

Teagan 

Tallulah 

Tinsley 

Tara

T

Thomas 

Theo 

Toby 

Tanner 

T

Tate 

Taylor 

Tatum 

Timber 

Throne 

Tristan 

U

U

U

V

Victoria 

Vanessa

Violet 

V

Victor 

V

Vale 

W

Willow 

Willa 

Whitney 

W

Wyatt

Wilder 

Winston 

Waylon 

Weston 

Wesley

W

Wren 

Westlynn

X

Xena 

X

X

Z 

Zoey 

Zelda

Z

Zain 

Zayden 

[wastemanjohn]

y'know I thought I was all done but I got one more thing to add to my earlier (lengthy -- sorry!) response to the wincest wednesday askbox scattergun, and that's on the topic of familial lexicon:

mundane headcanons, I hear you say? how about this one that is gospel in my heart: there are dozens, if not HUNDREDS, of songs that sam hears in his brother's voice before anybody else's.

there's songs for bathtime and bedtime, songs to make sam sit still while dean clips his sharp little fingernails, songs for when dad's been gone for so many minutes, way past the little hand on the eight and the big hand on the four. there's songs for waiting in the car while dad pumps gas or digs deep holes or lights fires that make dean go pale and a little sweaty, so his palm slides clammy-cold over sam's. there's songs for walking home from school, songs that sam gets to hear vibrating up to where he's perched on dean's shoulders, and songs whispered against his temple when sleep won't come.

(later, when he's older, there's songs for counting cadence during PT and songs for walking back to the fence to reset the pop can targets and songs for when he's fought with dad and screamed himself hoarse. there's songs for hanging out the window to the waist while dean does a conservative seventy-five of roads graded for fifty. there's songs dean sings to and for himself, but he doesn't mind if sam listens in.)

like, for sam, pete seeger didn't sing "little boxes"; dean winchester did. paul simon and art garfunkel didn't sing "cecelia"; dean winchester did. bruce springsteen didn't sing "atlantic city" and arlo guthrie didn't sing "alice's restaurant massacre" and warren zevon didn't sing "roland the headless thompson gunner" (besides, sam's pet theory is that warren's probably a hunter himself, or at least a well-informed civilian); peter schilling didn't sing "major tom" and elvis didn't sing "suspicious minds" and roy orbison didn't sing "all I have to do is dream". joan baez didn't sing "with god on our side" and tom paxton didn't sing "lyndon johnson told the nation" and hoyt acton didn't sing "greenback dollar" and fleetwood mac sure as hell didn't sing "the chain". phil ochs didn't sing "the highwayman" and john denver didn't sing "country roads" and dusty springfield didn't sing "I only want to be with you". dean winchester did; word-perfect, every time.

sam's a connoisseur of the entire dean winchester discography. no matter what anybody else (the radio included) says, sam knows how those song go.

sam knows that the song goes, "my sammy lies over the prairie, my sammy lies over the sea, my sammy lies over the prairie, so bring back my sammy to me"

sam knows that the song goes, "a-round her neck/ she wore a yellow ribbon/ she wore it in the springtime/ and in the month of may/ and if you asked/ her why the hell she wore it/ she wore it for her young marine sent far, far away"

sam knows that the song goes, "I've got some fine memories of san angelo/ and I've seen some beauty queens in el paso/ but the best lookin' women that I've ever seen/ have all been from kansas and all wearin' jeans"

sam knows that the song goes, "we've hauled some barges in our day/ filled with lumber, coal, and hay/ and we know every inch of the way/ from albany to far below"

sam knows that the song goes, "my father was hung as a horse thief/ my mother was burned as a witch/ my seventeen sisters, they run the whorehouse/ and I'm a cocksucking son of a bitch"

sam knows that the song goes, "oh, my darling/ oh, my darling/ oh, my darling clementine/ you are lost and gone forever/ dreadful sorry, clementine"

sam knows that the song goes, "so take my tip before you ship to join the iron gang/ don't be too gay in botany bay, or else you'll surely hang/ "or else you'll surely hang," says he, and after that, jim jones/ way up upon the gallows tree, the crows will pick your bones"

sam know that the song goes, "bye, baby bunting, daddy's gone a-hunting, gone to fetch a gator skin, to wrap his baby bunting in"

(sam's twenty-three and newly dead so he doesn't know the next time a song from dean's back catalogue gets sung in a whisper against the thin skin of his temple, hair pushed back behind his ear so maybe he'll hear: bring back, bring back, oh, bring back my sammy to me, to me; bring back, bring back, oh bring back my baby to me)

!!!! SCREAM! ANON YOU ARE FUCKING *COOKING* this is so beautiful 😭😭😭😭 gosh. I'm screaming. EVERYONE READ WHAT ANON SAID PLEASE BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS REARRANGED BY THIS

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch13: Family

Summary: A brief calm before the storm... Referenced Episodes: mentioned S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Mostly filler. Some fluff! Word Count: 5922 Recommended Song: Cecelia -- Simon & Garfunkel Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I clocked out after about eight hours of driving and finally gave up on holding a conversation with the boys. The relief of surviving yet another hunt had finally washed away, leaving a bitter feeling hanging low over us.

The brothers were not happy, for similar and yet very different reasons. Both of them were pissed to hell that they had to say goodbye to their father not even an hour after reuniting. However, Sam was frustrated with the fact that it was his brother who sent John away – I could understand his pain. If I had rekindled relations with my father, wherever he might be, and then he suddenly left I would be upset too.

The brothers hadn't spoken much, only really conversing together when I was involved in the conversation. Eventually, I got fed up and did my best to fall asleep to the sounds of loud rock music. Despite Dean's claims about not liking Bon Jovi, he played it an awful lot.

I too was irritated in my own way. I couldn't help but replay the previous night's events over and over again until my head was reeling from exhaustion. Maybe if I had stayed put, John wouldn't have been led to the boys. Perhaps he wouldn't have gotten there in time and therefore not have gotten hurt- No, if we hadn't gotten there, the brothers might have been dead, or worse.

The more I thought about it, the fewer good options there appeared to be. No matter how I spun the story, I couldn't find a happy ending. Something would have gone wrong eventually.

I sighed and fluffed my coat - there was no way Dean was ever getting it back - and rested my head back onto it. It had already been two hours since I had given up on getting a conversation going and all I really wanted was to sleep. I hadn't gotten any at the hospital, and I certainly hadn't had anything more than a few hours while in Chicago. I shut my eyes and did my best to lull myself to sleep.

"Sammy, hand me one of my AC/DC tapes, would you?" Dean asked, extending his hand. Sam had just enough time to open the glove compartment before I spoke up.

"If you play that while I'm trying to sleep, I will skin you," I grumbled out, my words partially muffled by my coat.

Dean briefly glanced over his shoulder to catch my glare. "What's wrong with AC/DC?"

"Nothing, as long as it's not played at 10pm," I growled and nuzzled into the coat. Dean scoffed.

"It's just after 9:30," he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Close enough," I spat. I heard Sam chuckle and close the compartment. "You have my permission to play something like Journey, though."

Sam practically howled with laughter at this. "No way does Dean have any Journey," he said with a chuckle. "You're lucky he's got any Bon Jovi."

"They're not my favorite," Dean tacked on, "but, they do have a few good albums. I just hate their love songs."

I sighed into my makeshift pillow and squeezed my eyes shut. "Yeah right, Dean. I heard you tapping your foot to 'Bed of Roses' earlier." I cracked one eye open to see Dean's ears tinge pink and again Sam laughed. I grinned and shut my eyes once more.

The car fell silent after a few grumbles from Dean and the cassette that was currently playing came to an end. I hummed and burrowed once more into the coat, letting sleep finally overtake me.

I felt oddly warm, despite being enveloped in darkness. Shouldn't the lack of anything suggest cold, rather than heat?

I blinked open my eyes, or I assume I opened them. The lack of any sort of presence made it hard to distinguish the inky blackness of my surroundings from the shadows of my closed eyelids.

I looked down, seeing my calloused hands, shadowed and blanketed by the heavy darkness. My eyes scanned over my form, recognizing all the clothes I was wearing. They were the same ones I had fallen asleep in, jeans with ripped knees and cuffed ankles to fit over my tightly done hiking boots, and a loose sage green button-down that fit well over my bandages.

I stretched, soaking the warmth into my tired muscles, and suddenly jumped, expecting pain from my torn shoulder and feeling none. I rolled my shoulder questioningly - where was the pain? There wasn't even a dull throb.

I reached towards my back and felt under my shirt, searching for shredded skin, bandages, anything, and felt none. My back felt smooth. Frantically, I unbuttoned the tops of my jeans and pulled them back as far as I could, peaking at where the top of my mangled wound should be. It was smooth. Unblemished.

I felt sick. My eyes flitted around the inky darkness and my throat closed up. I scrambled at my throat. I couldn't breathe. Why wouldn't I breathe?

A faint noise caught my attention and I swiveled the best I could in the murk. My eyes widened with horror as my ears strained to identify the sound.

It was a growl.

I whipped in the opposite direction, searching my shrouded darkness. A shape moved in front of me and I squinted my eyes at it. My hands dropped from my throat, the lack of oxygen forgotten. I struggled to make out a shape in the dark, peering and hoping to see whatever had growled.

My eyes widened as they fastened to two red ones.

I woke with a jolt, using my good arm to propel myself away from the window. I fell to the side, putting pressure on my bad leg and catching myself with my sore arm. I yelped and pushed backward, leaning against the door with wild eyes and heavy breaths.

The car skidded as I startled Dean and he quickly corrected our course. Sam whipped around to face me, worry in his hazel eyes. "Woah, woah, the hell is going on back there!?" Dean shouted, sounding panicked.

I nodded and threaded a hand through my hair the best I could. I took a deep breath in an attempt to regulate my heartbeat and then nodded again, feeling more sure of myself.

"Nightmare," I wheezed out and dropped my hands on my lap. Could it even really be considered a nightmare? If anything, it was more unsettling than terrifying. I brushed my hair out of my face as it clung to my sweaty face. "What time is it?"

"Just after eleven," Dean replied. "You've been asleep for about two and a half hours."

I nodded and swallowed dryly. "So are we close to home?"

Sam nodded and handed me a bottle of water from the glove compartment. "Another twenty minutes." I sighed in relief and relaxed, shifting so my back rested comfortably against my seat. I uncapped the water and downed a third of it.

"Wanna talk about it?" Sam inquired quietly. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I was in complete darkness, just kind of... floating," I mumbled. "I wasn't in any pain either. My wounds were just... gone, and there were no scars. Like nothing had happened." I sighed out and rested my fingertips lightly on my throat. "I couldn't breathe. It was like there was no oxygen, and... I heard this growl. When I tried to see what growled at me, I saw eyes. Red. Like fire." I shrugged and leaned my head back. "And then I woke up."

My eyes flashed to Dean as he chuckled darkly. "That's it?" he asked. "You afraid of the dark or something, Scoob?"

"-Dean!" Sam chastised his older brother for his apathy."Of course not," I scoffed. "I just- it was just unsettling. There was something... not natural about it."

"We specialize in 'not natural,' sweetheart," Dean continued. "You think it had anything to do with these voices you keep hearing?"

"I don't know," I mumbled, pressing a palm to my temple. My head was throbbing, like a dull headache. "Oh! I forgot to mention it earlier but- I heard the whisper again. Right before your dad attacked me, it told me to duck."

"It told you to duck?" Sam asked, obviously confused. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Probably because your dear old dad would have hit me in the back of the head if I hadn't."

"I dunno, maybe you deserved that for following us," Dean chimed. I glared at his stern features in the rearview mirror.

"And maybe you deserved that pretty cut across your face for being an ass," I snapped back. My harsh words only drew a rumbling chuckle from him. I resettled myself in my seat and shut my eyes once more as the interior of the car fell silent.

I jolted upon feeling the car take a familiar turn off the highway, one that would lead to my front door. I cracked a grin and straightened in my seat, leaning between Dean and Sam to stare out the front window.

Nerves hit me like a truck - was now really the best time to go back? My grin slipped from my face and instead I frowned, pondering. The boys had only just found their father, who supposedly had a huge lead on killing the demon that killed their mom. Killing a demon! What if they needed me?

My heart pounded. Calliope. Had she even made it to the pack? I should have called to check- I should have called to let them know I was coming home! God, that was stupid of me. They were my family, I needed to tell them these things.

Being a part of a family again was a lot harder than I thought.

I bolted upright again when I saw the lights of my house come into view. There was no way this wasn't my favorite place on earth. I beamed, remembering all the memories I had here. Repainting the house with Dennis had been one of the best - it had been an ugly beige color, but I somehow convinced him to go with an almost pastel blue. He had been so against it at first until we started doing it. He fell in love with the color after that.

I reached for my crutches and waited for the Impala to roll to a steady stop. Before Dean had even parked, my door was thrown open and I launched myself from it, struggling to walk and get my crutches under me at the same time. The pack bond was blazing, pulling me towards the painted house as I stretched the crutches as far ahead of me as I could to propel myself forward.

The front door was tossed open and from the opening popped Andrew's red hair, a wide, relieved grin on his features. He ran out the door and toward me, Sasha close behind with a dishrag in hand.

My crutches fell to the ground as Andrew threw himself at me, enveloping me in a warm hug. Sasha soon followed him, embracing me a bit more timidly after surely having noticed my injuries. I hugged back tightly, relieved that I was finally home.

I jumped and broke the embrace, hearing a squeal from the doorway. My eyes fell on Calliope, long hair tied into a loose braid and an apron draped across her front. In just a few bounds she had crossed the lawn and tackled me, practically knocking me over.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, pulling away and inspecting me with sheer joy.

"You're here!" I squealed back. "I was worried you hadn't made it!"

"Of course I made it! Why wouldn't I?" Calliope was practically shaking with excitement, her eyes raking over my form as if she hadn't seen me in years. Finally, her eyes settled with some confusion on my leg with a tight brace on it to restrict movement to keep me from further injuring my muscles. Her eyes widened with panic as they befell my crutches and her grip tightened on my upper arms. "What happened?"

A gentle hand rested on my good shoulder and I turned my head to meet Dean's green eyes, my backpack slung over one of his shoulders. "Just a couple thousand-year-old shadow demon," he said, smirking playfully. He extended his hand to Calliope. "Hi. Dean Winchester."

Calliope looked nervously between the two of us. "Your human friend?" she asked me. I nodded. She smiled softly and shook Dean's hand. "Calliope Jones. I’m a new friend." Her chest swelled with pride.

Andrew leaned forward to pick up my crutches and handed them to me. "What do you mean 'shadow demons'?"

"Ever heard of a Daeva?" I asked. He shook his head and I chuckled. "I wouldn't expect you to. I hadn't heard of them either. Basically, they're these shadow demon things that are really hard to summon and are vicious." The younger boy blinked in confusion, drinking it all in. I rolled my eyes playfully. "I'll fill you guys in later. Where's everyone else?"

"Booth turned in a few hours ago," Sasha chirped, her sweet voice music to my ears. I missed her- all of them. She was going to be pissed when she saw the state of my clothes. "Marcus and Caeden went hunting a couple of hours ago."

I nodded and turned to the Winchesters who were both rearranging luggage in the car. "Don't tell me you boys are leaving already?"

Sam glanced up at me, a woeful expression on his face. "We have to go," he started, straightening and brushing a long lock from his face. "We've got to find dad."

I scoffed and crossed my arms in irritation, much to my shoulder's displeasure. "John can wait a few hours. You boys are getting some sleep." I glared at Dean as he bolted upright to protest, silencing him. "I'll have you boys dragged in by your napes. You can head out tomorrow, but you're sleeping here tonight." I turned to Sasha, hobbling a bit as I spun. "Can you set up the pull out couch in the living room? I doubt they'll want to share the guest room bed," I teased with a glance over my shoulder at the brothers.

The six of us padded into the house and I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat on the living room couch. It had been too long since I was home, and the familiar scents and warm lights gave me an innate sense of comfort that I was sure nothing else ever would. This was my home. And of course, it could be argued that my pack was my home as well, but everyone needed roots. It kept us grounded.

I needed to be grounded.

I wasn't particularly worried about my self-control – as long as I remained around people I trusted and cared about, I had little concern. Truthfully, I was worried about my inability to change forms. How long would it last? And what the hell did I have to do to make it stop?

I must have dozed off at some point. The boys had gotten settled and wished everyone a pleasant night. After that, I remember staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours.

—

I bolted upright having been awoken by the sounds of a door opening, squeaking on its hinges. My eyes slowly adjusted to the room as I blinked furiously, peering through the darkness. My tired eyes latched onto a shadowed form on the front porch, just visible through the small window near the top of the door.

I rubbed a hand down my face, working the sleep out of my eyes. It was still dark out and couldn't have been any later than four in the morning, perhaps even earlier. I felt like I hadn't slept at all. With a deep inhale that rocked my lungs, I stood and reached for my crutches, making my way slowly towards the front door.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, but elicited no reaction from the figure on my porch. I sighed, recognizing who it was, and padded softly toward him.

"You're supposed to be sleeping, you know. That's the whole reason I told you to stay," I mumbled sleepily to Dean, rubbing a closed fist over my eye. He didn't respond, instead staring into the tree line with a tired expression.

"Did I wake you?" he finally asked, eyes unfocused and clearly deep in thought.

I yawned and placed a hand over my mouth. "Yeah, but I probably would have woken up soon anyway. What time is it?"

"’Bout three in the morning, I think," he mumbled back. I nodded and propped my elbow on the railing, resting my chin in my open palm.

"Then I would have been up in a couple hours anyway. Pretty much as soon as the sun started coming up," I reassured with a soft chuckle, almost unnoticeable.

Dean ran his fingers through his hair which was subtly less spiked. Clearly, he had at least laid down for a little while. He always slept on his stomach, it only made sense that his hair would be mssed because of it. "I thought skinwalkers liked to sleep during the day?" he teased.

I laughed a bit louder than I had intended, placing a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. "Yeah, some do. My sleep schedule has been all kinds of messed up in the last few months though," I yawned again. "I used to sleep the day away then come out at night. Everything just seems so peaceful and crisp at night, you know?" I sighed and smiled softly. "Even the air is better."

Dean nodded slowly and turned his head towards mine, green eyes swimming with unspoken thoughts. "I guess we messed up a lot more than your sleep schedule, huh?"

I frowned and locked yes with him, confused by his statement. "What makes you think that?"

Dean huffed and turned to face the tree line again, a resigned look resting on his tired features. "Ever since Sammy and I waltzed into your life, nothing's been the same. I mean, you're a hunter now, you've got a pack-" he chuckled darkly, "Hell, you've almost gotten killed a couple of times."

I hummed quietly, mulling it over. True, everything had changed, but I wouldn't say my life was messed up now. "I was bored out of my mind before you boys showed up." I inhaled deeply and spun around, back to the railing and elbows propped on it. "I had been on a few cases long before meeting you boys, but it had been a long time. Months before my uncle died." I paused and thought for a few moments. "Honestly, I think hunting was what I was missing. I love it, despite how crazy that sounds. I was raised on stories of hunting, and when I got a taste of it... I didn't want to let go."

I turned my head to meet Dean's eyes, his looking rather unsure. I mustered the sweetest smile I could and grinned at him. "I'm glad you boys dragged me back in. I didn't realize how much I missed it."

Dean scoffed playfully. "Why would you miss hunting? This life sucks."

“I think I like the… saving people part. I’ve done enough bad in my life, it feels nice to do some good.” I raised an eyebrow at him and nudged him in the arm. "Don't act like you wouldn't miss it."

He exhaled deeply, picking at his nails nervously. "If I could get out and have a life, then I would. White picket fence, kids, two dogs-"

"- Two dogs? I thought you didn't like dogs?"

"Yeah, two dogs – and I do like dogs, s'long as they don't shed. The apple pie life, you know?" He propped his chin in his hands and stared wistfully into the woods. "A house like this, too. Small, but warm, cozy, and out of the way of everything else."

"Would you get a normal job?" I inquired. He looked so peaceful, daydreaming about the perfect life. I wanted to see more of it.

"Yeah, I would," he said with a small smile. "Probably a mechanic, like my dad. I'd teach my kids all about cars, just like he taught me. We'd have pie on Sunday nights for dessert and have Sam visit from time to time..." his smile suddenly fell, replaced with a grim expression. He frowned, the skin between his brows wrinkling and dragging his eyebrows down with it in a sour expression.

"I want that for Sam," he continued, sounding almost lost. "And I want that for you."

Now it was my turn to frown as my own eyes perused his crestfallen features. "But not for yourself?"

"Of course, I want that for myself," Dean grumbled. "But it's just... not something I'll ever have. Kids, a wife, that whole life – maybe in another world that could be mine." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair once more, tugging at it gently in frustration. "Sam got out of this life once. He can do it again. I want you to get out too, away from the hunting, the demons, all the conflict."

I scoffed. "I hate to break it to you, Dean, but it's not in the cards for me either." His green eyes whipped to mine, a deep-set scowl on his handsome features. "Maybe if I was human, or even if I didn't have a pack to look out for... but not now. Hell, I don't know if I'll even find a partner."

"Do you want kids?" Dean asked. The question startled me and I glanced at him with wide eyes. The last time I had even thought about the prospect of kids was my first case with the boys, with Missouri...

"Honestly, I've never really thought about it," I mumbled and scratched the back of my neck. Why was I so embarrassed? "Never really been the motherly sort, you know?"

Dean laughed and cracked a grin, one that brought a smile to my own cheeks. "You seem plenty motherly with your pack."

My grin grew into a smirk. "Yeah, but they can feed themselves and don't need their diapers changed." Dean chuckled again at this and leaned further forward over the railing.

"So I take it that's a no?" he asked. I hummed questioningly. "About having kids? I guess that means no?"

I froze. Did that mean no?

I shook my head. "Whatever happens, happens. I'll just roll with the punches. If I have a kid, or two, or three, then yeah, I'll be ecstatic. And if I don't-" I frowned. What if I didn't? Missouri said I would, and in the near future, but what if she was wrong? "- If I don't, I've still got a family." My voice cracked as I spoke, betraying how I felt.

I hoped Missouri was right. Maybe I would have some pups of my own and have that apple pie life. Get away from hunting, maybe appoint Booth as the new alpha... my stomach lurched at the sudden thought. Give it all up? Maybe that didn’t sound so bad…

"I still want all that for you," Dean mumbled, once more tearing nervously at his nails. He had a habit of chewing them when he was deep in thought and picking at them when nervous. "For you to have a happy life away from all of this, both you and Sam-"

"Sam and I are never going to be happy with a life outside of this unless you're part of it," I stated, sounding a bit harsher than I intended. "And you and I both know that if either of us had a life outside of this, you'd stay as far away from us, so you don't ruin it."

Dean glowered and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "I do have a habit of doing that," he grumbled as his eyes lazily scanned over my injured leg and finally befell the crutches leaning against the railing by my side.

I scoffed loudly and turned my face away from his, a dismissive glare on my features. "You don't ruin things, Dean."

He hummed in response, as though he didn't believe me. "Yeah, sure I don't..." he huffed disapprovingly and turned his green eyes away from me. "I didn't exactly act the way I should have when I saw you again in Wyoming... that made things worse."

"No, it didn't," I stated firmly. "You were pissed, and you had every right to be, but the fact that we can have this conversation now tells me that nothing is ruined." He inhaled deeply, ignoring my gaze and glaring down at the ground.

"What'd you and my dad talk about?" he asked, confusing me with his question. Why'd he change the subject so quickly? "On the way back to the hotel in Chicago? You guys took a long time getting back."

I placed a hand on my aching shoulder, rubbing it a bit. I'd need to change the bandages soon. "Nothing much. He didn't believe who I was at first."

"How much did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him I'm a skinwalker if that's what you're asking," I hissed out. "I'm not that stupid. I mostly told him the truth. Told him my mom died just a little after I was born, and lived with my dad until he left. Told him my uncle took me in and taught me how to hunt. Nothing too crazy or far from the truth."

Dean nodded, looking relieved. "Good," he muttered quietly. "He had your uncle’s number, didn't he? That's what you were trying to show me at the bar?"

I nodded. "Yeah, apparently they worked a couple cases together, though it had been years since they'd seen each other. Didn't even know he died." Dean nodded again, eyes scanning the horizon as the first blue-tinged rays of light dotted the sky. It was only four in the morning, but the sky was already brightening. I sighed and fluffed my hair, trailing my fingers through it in the hopes of undoing a few knots. "I'm sorry, Dean."

He perked up at this, casting me a rather confused glance. "What for?"

"For everything," I mumbled back. "Mostly for leaving. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He chuckled softly and reached to put an affectionate hand on my good shoulder. "You didn't hurt me. I get it, you had to go. Just... next time, let me know before you disappear without a word?"

I laughed softly and fixed my eyes on him, a smirk rising on my lips. "As long as you don't ask me to stay."

"No promises," he teased and spun, his back to the railing. "Thank you."

I straightened and looked at him quizzically. "What for?"

"For everything," he teased, mimicking my previous statement and earning a soft laugh from me. "Mostly for putting up with me. Not many people can."

"What are you talking about, Dean, you're a joy to be around," I said sarcastically.

"I try," he replied jokingly. He yawned, coaxing a yawn from my own lips. "I should probably try to get a couple more hours," he stated softly. "Got a long day of driving ahead of us."

"Where are you and Sam going to go?" I asked. John hadn't given any mention of where he was going.

Dean shrugged. "Sam found a case in North Carolina. Nothing too major, I think, probably just a vengeful spirit," I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I didn't like ghosts. "From there I guess we'll just... follow dad's trail. Try to track him down."

I nodded solemnly and fixed my gaze on Dean's once more. "If I asked you to stay, would you?" I asked quietly. Dean's eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount, his jaw becoming lax from surprise. His eyes surveyed mine with a certain wariness, as though he wasn't sure what to say.

"Yeah..." he finally whispered, trailing off as though he didn't believe it. "I think I probably would."

"Then you should go," I whispered back, standing and hoisting my crutches up next to me, my face only inches from his. "Before I ask you to."

He continued to scan my face with a certain bashfulness and confusion that I had never seen on him. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked timidly, leaning forward ever so slightly.

I gulped, my cheeks dusted with pink. Did I want him to stay? After another few long moments, I turned my face away from his. "You should go to bed, Dean. You've got a long day tomorrow," I said softly, leaning back against the banister again. Dean blinked, ridding himself of the confusion and sleeplessness plaguing his features.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, I probably should." He stood to his full height and turned away, his back towards me. With one last brief glance over his shoulder, he mumbled, "I'll see you around." And just as quickly as our conversation had begun, it ended, and once more I was left alone in the dark.

I covered my face with my hands when I heard the guest room door shut. My cheeks reddened from embarrassment. "God that was stupid," I muttered to myself. My cheeks flushed darker. I'd never seen Dean act like that before – I'd never seen myself act like that before.

What was wrong with me?

—

I woke mid-afternoon to the sound of Simon and Garfunkel, their wailing tones mixing with someone else's rough vocals. I blinked hard, adjusting to the bright golden lights filtering through my large windows, casting a soft glow onto my bed. When did I make it to my bed?

I stretched and reached for the crutches that leaned against the side of my bed and hobbled down the spiral staircase that led up to my loft. My leg was feeling a lot better than it had yesterday, but I doubted my tendons were even close to being fully healed.

The kitchen was just as bright, with the huge west-facing windows casting a massive amount of light into the room. I squinted and blinked, my eyes fighting to become accustomed to the light. Finally, my eyes landed on Marcus who was sashaying around the kitchen with various pots and pans and belting out the lyrics to 'Cecilia,' the sunlight bouncing off his blonde hair.

"Well look who finally decided to wake up!" he chirped, placing a soapy pan in the sink and pausing his music. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away, honestly."

I groaned and rubbed my eyes which were sore from an excessive amount of sleep. "I feel like I did sleep the day away," I said with a yawn as I sat at one of the bar stools on the edge of the kitchen. "Heard you and Caeden went hunting. When'd you get back?"

"About the time you and your hunter friend had your 3am rendezvous," he teased, scrubbing a pot that looked to have chili residue in it. "So what was that all about?"

My face flushed. "I heard him open the front door and decided to see what was up. We just... talked for a while."

"Mhm," Marcus teased with a smirk. "Yeah, I'm sure you two did a lot of talking." I didn't think my face could get any redder, but I was quickly proven wrong. Marcus sighed playfully and rinsed the pot, placing it on the drying wrack. "By the way, your boyfriend and his brother left a few hours ago."

"They left already?" I asked, a bit surprised by their sudden exit. Marcus nodded.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'. "And Dean said to give him a call when you woke up."

I frowned and contemplated a bit. They left without a word - though I suppose I deserved that, after how I left last time I saw them. "Did they say anything else?"

"Just that if you're up for a hunt when your leg heals, then they'd be willing to team up again," he replied, aggressively scrubbing some tongs. "By the way, Sasha changed your bandages for you after we brought you upstairs." I jolted at this, wondering how to hell they managed to do that without waking me – hell, I was in a pair of sleeping shorts now, the new wrappings clearly exposed. Somehow, despite all that, I slept through it. Marcus shrugged, seemingly knowing what I was thinking. "She's pretty gentle, and you were really out of it. Clearly, you needed the sleep."

"Yeah," I mumbled in agreement. "Yeah, I guess I did."

My mind was racing at nine hundred miles an hour, chasing any and all random thoughts that popped into my head. Did they really have to leave so soon? They could have at least waited until I woke up so I could say goodbye.

Maybe they got a lead they wanted to follow up on. Whatever their reason for leaving without any notice to me, I'm sure it was with good intention. I glanced towards the corner of the counter where my phone was plugged in next to the outlet. I contemplated calling Dean now, despite my throat being raw and dry from sleep.

Marcus dried his hands slowly, watching my eyes flicker around the counter in thought. Finally, he put the cloth down and rested his palms on the counter, leaning toward me.

"You care about him, don't you?" he asked, a serious expression on his face. This wasn't the usual teasing- this was sincere. I jolted when I met his green eyes, the sincerity in them shocking me back to reality.

"I care about both of them," I retorted, clasping my hands in my lap. "They're family."

Marcus' eyes regarded mine with scrutiny before he stood abruptly and tossed the dishrag over his shoulder. He reached to press play on his music, but I stopped him with a chuckle.

"Simon and Garfunkel, huh?" I teased, propping my chin on my open palm and elbow on the counter.

"Damn right," he exclaimed with a grin. "Best damn musicians, past, present, and future. I don't care what anyone says. The way they sang 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'?" he blew a kiss into the air. "Absolutely delectable! Nothing better."

I laughed, a wide grin spreading across my cheeks. "And what does Caeden think about that?"

Marcus huffed and crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. "Caeden has terrible taste in music. He likes Johnny Cash," he spat with a groan. "Wouldn't know good music if it bit him in the ass."

I giggled and brought a hand to cover my mouth, suppressing the loud laughter. Suddenly, an outstretched hand was thrust towards my face. My confused eyes traced the length of the arm back to Marcus, who wore a cocky grin on his face.

"Care to dance, alpha?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I laughed once more and took his hand. He dragged me out of my seat and held me tight, tilting me slightly to the side to keep too much weight off my injured leg. He reached towards the counter and pressed play on his music, the opening notes of  'Mrs. Robinson' filling the room.

I giggled as Marcus and I swayed around the kitchen, the both of us belting out lyrics like there was no one else around.

[mcneyhoney]

been a while, huh? he can't remember the last time he's spoken to cee --- seen her around, sure, but somewhere between kid one and nox getting clean matt feels he's lost touch with the deans. even reaching out to cecelia was a mission in itself. he called, got the phone company. tried her office, got the secretary. even came to the house --- no one home. a hand written, courier delivered letter with a fake return-to-sender is what it took.

" --- i was starting to think you were avoiding me. "

strange place to meet. far from anywhere the haus owns, further from the usual haunts of their few mutual friends. he's gotten them a booth way at the back of the shitty dive bar, dimly lit, away from prying eyes. if she wasn't hesitant to meet, she should be now.

" --- sorry to drag you so far outta the city, but i wanted'a make sure we could talk. sit -- want a drink? "

@consultingsister

[lookatmeiwritefanfictionlmao]

DPxDC!!

Alriiiiiiight, the fic's got a complete outline! Ages of major characters:

"Old Lady Mia White"(oc): 87 Bruce Wayne: 48 Barbara Gordon: 23 Dick Grayson: 22 Cassandra Wayne: 21 Jason Todd-Wayne: 19 Sadie Lake(oc): 19 Jamie Rhodes(oc): 18 Danny: 18 Maxwell Dane(oc): 18 Lea(oc): 18 Dean(oc): 17 May Kraft(oc): 17 Stephanie Brown: 17 Tim Drake-Wayne: 16 Damian Wayne: 11 Cecille Lake(oc): 6 Ellie(Danielle): 4

Ages in the already written prequel 👀👀👀

"Old Lady Mia White": 85 Mavis "Cherry" ????: 21 Jessica "Pearl" Dane: 20 Sam "Tiger" ????: 20 Jason Todd-Wayne: 17 Sadie Cecelia Lake: 17 Jamie Rhodes: 16 Danny James ????: 16 Max Dane: 16 Lea ????: 16 Frankie Blaire: 16 Dean ????: 15 May Kraft: 15 Cecille Marigold Lake: 4 Ellie Jasmine ????: 2

:D

[beneaththemooon]

What YouTube channels do you watch

Tucker Carlson

Candace Owens

Dr. Eric Berg

TS Madison

Guillaume Néry

Jennifer Myers

Liziqi

Cecelia Condit

Joe Rogan

Smokin & Grillin with AB

Dean Schneider

[sanctuary2022]

"lucy can get pregnant in the apocalypse only if she then has a stillborn mutant visenya baby"

your brain is so huge....you're cooking here

i forgot to respond to this but literally that girl either needs a radioactive reproductive system or she gives birth to an absolute freak of nature and has to kill it like dean winchester or cecelia in immaculate

[siriusdog]

Read 30 books this year with me

Completed (7/30):

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy

The Land of Stories by Chris Colfer

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The Vendor of Sweets by R.K. Narayan

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

RIP (Reading in Progress) (3/30):

The Thousand Year Old Boy by Ross Welford

Not Dead Yet by Phil Collins

Never by Ken Follett

Books to Read (14/30):

Sleepers by Lorenzo Carcaterra

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang

Love, Rosie by Cecelia Ahern

Me Before You by Jojo Moyes

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Intensity by Dean Koontz

Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

Sharp Objects" by Gillian Flynn

[antuan]

son 3 yıldır falan yapıyordum, biraz geç kaldım ama 2023'te ilk kez izleyip en beğendiğim 10 film listem:

Fingernails (Christos Nikou, 2023)

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (Dean Fleischer Camp, 2021)

Possibly in Michigan (Cecelia Condit, 1983)

The Adults (Dustin Guy Defa, 2023)

About Fate (Marius Weisberg, 2022)

Ring (Hideo Nakata, 1998)

Never Let Me Go (Mark Romanek, 2010)

The Banshees of Inisherin (Martin McDonagh, 2022)

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Jim Sharman, 1975)

Ticket to Paradise (Ol Parker, 2022)

honorable mentions: harvey (herny koster, 1950); playtime (jacques tati, 1967); they came together (david wain, 2014)

seneye daha çok romcom ile görüşmek üzere..

[aliypop]

Anyway You Do Part 2

Word Count: 2,860

Writers Note: Here's part 2, I'm excited to write this now twister of a story

Warning: A bit of angst

Pairing: OC x Elvis

Plot: What happens when love, at first sight, becomes fate.

Taglist:

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

Tennessee July 3rd, 1956

"I can't believe you would do this after everything I've done for you..." 

"It's not that bad, Mother..." 

"My boy... this could be career suicide..." Tom grumbled,

"What are we gonna say." 

"How am I gonna cover this up, my boy."

"Any way you do..." Elvis shrugged. Tom was nearly devastated, sitting in his office looking at Elvis like a parent would, "You are already in trouble for dancing like a colored man... now this!" he slammed the newspaper on the table, "Lightin' up, Colonel. It was just some fun."

"We were just gettin our kicks,"

"Some kicks... Cecelia..." Denise grumbled, "Cecelia Shanel Valmos! Just on the other side of us in Alabama, there's the bus protest where we're getting beaten and slandered for having our skin color," 

"It's not that serious..." she rolled her eyes.

"You could lose fans over this, Elvis."

"Already lost 'em with that damn hound dog trick Colonel," he said, pushing his hair back. 

"Mama..." Her mother glared at her, "Mother, he's kind and sweet. He's crossing barriers. Maybe I could too." Cecelia said as she looked love sick, her mother and manager hating it, 

"The only barriers you could cross is in music."

"Maybe that's what I wanna do." she mumbled, "And besides, why not Chuck Berry or Little Richard." her mother kept listing artists. 

"Mama Little Richard ain't exactly uh... well..a lady's man." she hinted as her mother rolled her eyes, "And besides, El is good people. We're neck and neck on the charts." she smiled, 

"Yeah, neck and neck on the charts with a colored woman who pretends to be you," Tom mentioned as Elvis groaned, 

"She ain't pretending to be me. If anything, she's better than me." 

"How's that, my boy..."

"Well, she's got stage presence. It's like she commands the crowd, and they listen." 

"They do the same to you." Tom rolled his eyes, looking at contracts.

"Yeah, but when she does it... it's I can't explain it..." he sighed. He was lovesick. And he had it so bad it was like a fevering cold. 

"She's..."

"Brave, mother, I mean, he goes up there coat tails looks like a butler still manages to look handsome and... Mornin Midge." 

"Morning Cece, talking about Mr. Presley again."

"When is she not." Denise sighed, "You've got some memos and calls, Mrs. Valmos." she said, 

"From who?"

"Frank Sinatra, Ella, Sammy, Dean, Sam," Midge sipped her coffee, "And Elvis A Presley." she smiled as Denise took the card, 

"Oh no, this is for Ms. Valmos..." 

"For me..." Midge gave her a nod, 

"Tell him I'll call him back."

"Tell him to stop calling the studio so damn much..." Denise rolled her eyes. 

"I'll handle it..." Midge smirked, 

Cecelia dialed the number on the card. She could hear the phone ring as a lump in her throat appeared, Cececlia had never been scared to have someone answer the phone, but this time was different. 

"Hello, Elvis, darlin!" 

"Who is this..."

"Cecelia Valmos and you..." 

"Mrs. Gladys Presely, his mother." she glared at her son, who was in the kitchen eating a quick lunch, covering the bottom half of the phone. She took a deep breath, "Elvis Aaron Presley...How many times have I told you stop givin' those wayward girls the family phone number?"

"Mama, I-I..."

"There's one on the phone now. The name is Cecelia Valmos, which can't be right cause the only Valmos I know is the jazz singer an-" Elvis took the phone from his mother as he cleared his throat from embarrassment. 

"I-I uh uhm Cece, Hi!, Hey..." he tried to play it cool as she laughed,

"Hey El, I was, uhm, returning your call. My manager, Uh, well, she hung up on you." Cecelia laughed as she leaned against the wall of the studio. 

"Figures... Hey, look, you doing anything tomorrow night," 

"I can't. I'm flying back to New York."

"O-oh... I see." he had a tone of despair in his voice. He had hoped she wasn't moving back because of anything he had done. 

"Why, what's wrong..." 

"Nothing." 

"El...EP... Mr. Pretty Blue eyes, tell me." she said as he blushed, "Nothing Cece... uh, enjoy New York an bring me back one of them big hot dogs." he laughed. "Thanks..." she sighed. Something had to be wrong, but what was it. 

"You look sad, Booby.." Gladys sighed, 

"I'm fine, mama..."  

"Looks like it's about a girl..." Vernon smirked,

"It seems like it always is with you." 

July 4th Russword Park 1956 Memphis Tennessee / Ed Sullivan Show NBC New Yor City

The plane ride to New York was relaxing, but all she could think of was why in the world did Elvis sound so upset. Did she say something wrong, or did her mother say something, "Midge..." Cecelia called out as she looked at the dresses picked out for her to wear. They were all more modest and hardly even danceable. "What's wrong, Cece." 

"It's about El..." she sighed, dressed in the bright yellow detachable cumberbund skirt dress. "Oh, tonights the Russwood Park Concert." Cecelia looked at her, confused,

 "It's the biggest event in anyone's career," Midge smirked, 

"Can we still get back in time before he performs..." 

"I can arrange something." After Cecelia performed, she sat in front of Ed Sullivan, in front of an America that didn't resemble her. But here she was on her best behavior. 

"Lovely to have the daughter of the Legendary Valmos with us tonight. Tell us how you keep your nails so pretty while playing the guitar." 

"A guitar pick and practice." she smiled.

"And those moves, Now I remember seeing you on another show dancing like a... ah, what's his name, the Elvis fellow." she sighed, knowing what question was coming next, "How's it feel to be compared to him as the lady Elvis... or are you perhaps his lady..." she was asked as she was about to open her mouth Cecelia was spoken overtop of, "I'm joking a girl like you might not even be his type." he laughed as she laughed along, 

"Actually, he and I are great friends..." she smiled. 

Thousands of screaming fans flooded the park as the cop cars and escorts drove into Russwood Park. Elvis was trembling like a leaf, with one person on his mind, and she wasn't there. He'd thought about what she'd say or a little joke she'd tell him, but it wasn't the same without her there. 

"What are you gonna sing, my boy." 

"I'll know it when I feel it." was all he had to say. He was all dressed in black. And he was ready to make a statement. Elvis wanted to be taken seriously, sure he was a singer. He was young. Elvis also wasn't a fool, and Elvis wasn't going to change for some lousy tv people from New York City. He wasn't fit for the good boy image, not that he wasn't a good boy, but Elvis wasn't what they were looking for. He was a Tupelo, Mississippi boy with a God-given talent. And if anyone was looking for trouble, they came to the right place. 

"Midge, can you drive any faster!" Cecelia shouted, the two nearly racing down the street in Midge's Chevrolet Bel Air, "And get a ticket and end up in jail and dead, fuck no!" she sighed, putting the pedal to the metal. Bobbing and weaving through traffic, 

"You're gonna do great out there, Booby..." Gladys smiled, kissing his cheek, 

"Just don't go wigglin a pinky, son," Vernon laughed. Both Gladys and Elvis shook their heads.

"Come on, come on, come on..." Cecelia sighed, the lines were atrocious, and the security was multiplied by 10. getting an idea, Midge looked at Cecelia and groaned, "You're not ripping that dress... It's custom-made Dior." 

"Don't care..." Detaching her skirt, Cecelia took off her shoes as she began to climb the hot metal gate hoping security wouldn't notice her. 

"Hey, you in the yellow..."

"Shit..."

"Me..." she pointed to herself.

"Yeah, you..." the guard pointed to her. Cecelia was at the top of the gate, the height from where she was, was a tad too high, but it was either she jumped or missed the performance in total.

 "Ain't you that jazz singin' colored woman's kid."

"Yeah, I am..."

"Then get yer ass down here..." Cecelia gulped and jumped. Breaking yet another pair of heels. Now she had to find a way to get close to the stage, There was a straight line in the middle, but it was also the color barrier, and she couldn't risk breaking it. Or maybe she could, maybe she would.  

Midge grumbled, looking through the gate. She could see Cecelia preparing to make a run for it via the segregation rope, and God did she hope Cecelia was going to do what she had in mind that she might actually do.  

"Godspeed, Cece..." 

"Those city folks ain't gonna change me none!" the music began to start, and so did her feet, "Oh, her mothers gonna kill me..." there she was on the wrong side of the tracks running as if her life depended on it. But at the same time, this was her friend. Midge only hoped he'd be there for her the way she was for him. As the performance ended, Cecelia went to find him backstage, running like the flash to get to him, until Cecelia saw a beautiful blonde kissing him. Her heart sank, and suddenly all she could think of was running towards the studio and recording her feelings. 

How do you think I feel?

Well, I know your love's not real

The Boy I'm mad about is just a gadabout

How do you think I feel?

King Creole Premier Hollywood, California July 2nd, 1958

"Elvis, look at the camera!"

               "No, look at this one!"

"Elvis over here..."

The crisp California air was no stranger to Mr. Presley, nor were the cameras and interviews. This had been his 4th movie premiere in the span of only 2 years, and the press and women loved him. But there was something still missing, or more like someone still missing. He'd been on numerous dates, some his mother didn't approve of, others that she did approve of too much. As he continued walking down the red carpet, he heard and saw the commotion coming from down the start of it. He could smell the scent of Femme de Rochas perfume, making him do a double take on the scent. 

        "Cecelia tells about your tour!"

  "Ms.Valmos, do I hear you're going be on The Lucile Ball radio show?"

Cecelia had been the talk of every household. And now the red carpet, her once long locks of 1956 were now cut into a short bob, similar to Betty Boop. She was in a skin-tight lilac dress with a satin ribbon bow around her waist and black Dior gloves,

  "All the rumors are true..." she said with her signature smile. Cecelia had been busy, now finding her footing in Rock n Roll and blues, becoming a heartthrob, and attending rallies with King since her debacle in 56. She was quite the cat's meow. There were still more questions, and she answered them all the best she could. As Cecelia kept walking, Midge saw, some friends of hers that she wanted to say hi to. 

"Say there I've never seen you be..." 

"Elvis..." 

"Fore..." Elvis looked at her as she hugged him, "Look atcha and your hair..." he was mesmerized by her new look, standing before him wasn't the same 21-year-old woman who was running him out of crowds, no she was a beautiful bombshell, and he couldn't take his eyes off her when she hugged him he wanted to hold her forever, "El..." she kissed his cheek, red lipstick lingering, 

"Oh sorry you probably got a girl now an-"

"Actually I don't... I-I uh, I came here by myself minus the Colonel." he laughed, "Bet you got a ton of men following you." Cecelia laughed, "Oh me nah, came with Midge. You remember Midge right?"

"Your mama's assistant,"

"Yeah..." she blushed her eyes getting lost in his own, something about him in the suit was doing it for her, it was like she was back during the Hayride days and she had first glanced at him,

 "Would you maybe wanna be my date then?"

"Me your date?" she laughed,

"Oh, come on, doll, you know you're in love with me..." he laughed as she looked up at him. This was true, but she'd never admit it, so she'd hoped she wouldn't.

 "Where'd you hear that sugarpie." 

"One of those magazines." he laughed, taking her hand and walking into the theater. Midge wasn't too far away from them but she gave them space. 

Watching Elvis act had been one of her favorite things, especially when it came to his kiss scenes, she'd just imagine herself instead of the actresses, which was how her mother caught her accidentally kissing a microphone.

She was on the edge of her seat the entire time and he was loving every second of it, taking his arm he placed it over her shoulder as she leaned in closer towards him. He had been focused on her the entire time, almost like he wanted to see the world through her eyes, the way that she saw him. He had noticed that when he sang trouble she was breathlessly mesmerized, in a trance even. 

"Hey, Cece..."

"Shush... you're singing," she responded as he chuckled a little, when the movie had finally came to its end and everyone was walking out of the theater, there was Cecelia and Elvis walking out together laughing and joking, 

"I never asked why you stormed off during Russwood..." She felt her heart sink again as she remembered that night. 

"You saw me..."

"In bright yellow," he added,

"I had to leave early..."

"Cece..." 

"An emergency..." 

"Ms. Valmos, don't lie to me..." 

"I saw you kiss another girl and..." 

"You got jealous..."

"What, no! I'd never get jealous of... of my friend!" stepping closer to her and laughing his hand on her cheek, "Besides, your Elvis Presley, EP... Now Danny Fisher... A man I'd like to kiss." the last part slipping out of her mouth. 

"You wanna kiss me?" he blushed,

"I wanna kiss Danny Fisher..." she poked him,

"Darlin I am..."

"Are you though." tilting her chin he leaned in and kissed her sweetly, with a bit of need and longing, her arm was around his neck the other on his chest. When he pulled away her knees nearly went weak and she could hardly stand. "Darlin... I think there's somethin between us and... It's the most alive I've ever felt." Elvis said, "Sugarpie..." She looked at him.

"What do we do about this.."

"I don't know but it's gotta be before September ..."

"Why's that..." She looked at him,

"Well... I leave for Germany." he sighed kissing her hand. "Right, the war..." a somber look in her eyes,

 "Hey, It's only July, we got time." he grinned, "

Guess we do." she smiled, "So let's make the most of it." 

Memphis Tennessee July 4th, 1958,

"Wanna explain who's this girl your kissin..." Gladys said as Elvis sunk down like a puppy dog. "Who we haven't met yet..." she smiled at him, both hands on her hips as Vernon smirked, "Cecelia Valmos and it was just a kiss nothing else..." he blushed, 

"Damn, you're just as red as the carpet," Vernon mentioned, "If you like her all that much... then let us meet her." he shrugged, 

"Cecelia you can't keep compromising yourself..." Denise said, she sighed, "We cleaned your image and now you're kissing him on red carpets..." 

"What's so bad about that mother..."

"You're not of his kind!" she slammed her fist on the table, 

"I KNOW THAT, MAMA!" she sighed, "But give him a chance." Cecelia tried to calm down. She took a deep breath, "I'm 23 now and I can make my own decisions." 

"Baby, he'll only hurt you, like you know who hurt you! she shouted, watching her daughter leave out the door. 

"Where's she going Midge," 

"Don't know..." 

Tears streamed down her face as she drove like a bat out of hell to Graceland. It was late but she needed to see him she needed to get away from the madness. 

"Hold me close, hold me tight," she heard her radio start to play, " Make me thrill with delight." she took a deep breath, "Let me know where I stand from the start." she could see the gates sprinkled with fans waiting, " I want you, I need you, I-I love you..." pulling into the gate, she drove to the front of his house.  

"With all my heart..."

"Cecelia..." she ran into his arms as she sobbed " Won't you please be my own? " she looked up at him, as he wiped her tear-stained cheeks, "Never leave me alone

'Cause I die every time we're apart..." he focused on her voice, 

"I want you, I need you, I-I-I love you...

With all my heart "

[wantdead]

(following the trend!) honestly ?? how nice you seemed ! its hard sometimes to get to know people on this site or not be overwhelmed especially by blogs like yours but you were just so nice 🩵 you were kind and welcoming and silly which are all great traits of deans too by the way ! so it might seem small i guess but kind is what i noticed 🩵

oh and cecelia noticed the coffee he was holding out to her obviously who wouldn't ?

awwwhh !!!! thank u this is super kind ahhh!!! 🫂

[cocktailsfairytales]

✩✩ RELEASE TOUR ✩✩

Well Played

A Sports Romance Anthology

Romance Café Publishing

Collection Book 36

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202118717/

Genre: Sports Romance

1-Click on AMAZON

https://books2read.com/tnrc2024wellplayed

Read on #KindleUnlimited

Description:

True love often isn’t a slam dunk.

No matter how hard you try, sometimes you fumble.

You want to get to loving strokes and fore play but there may be hurdles to overcome.

If a happily ever after is your goal, step up to the plate and hope you don’t strike out.

Well Played, the first Sports Romance collection from The Romance Cafe is coming in October.

Participating Authors:

Kenna Shaw Reed

Cecelia Conway

TL Hamilton

Sharon Michalove

Kalli Dean

Katherine Isaac

Wynter Ryan

Kristine Charles

Maida Malby

J.T. Silver

Katharine O'Neill

Danielle Sibarium

Ariana St. Claire

JCC Downing

Emmy Dee

Juliet Martini

Gabbi Black

Ellis Worth

Harper Michaels

Sofia Aves

S L Hollister

Amy Stephens

Toni Denise

Belinda E Edwards

Minda Knight

About The New Romance Cafe

The New Romance Café is the place to get your daily dose of romance books.

Hang out with like-minded readers and authors at different stages of their writing journey, in a diverse and inclusive group.

Find out about new releases, take part in fun discussions, and recommend your favourite reads in the safe space of the Café.

The New Romance Cafe Links

Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/thenewromancecafe

Website: https://thenewromancecafe.com/

Romance Cafe Publishing: https://romancecafepublishing.com/

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