#a runaway's journal

[aftgphoenix]

A Runaway's Journal

Masterlist

August 19th, 1999

Earlier today I had to go to the store with Mom. We were getting some more hair dye and groceries and Mom also got some more alcohol in case we get hurt. It was really busy inside the store and Mom started pulling me around because she was getting scared about us being followed. We were walking home with all the groceries when some creepy guy started hitting on her. She tried to ignore him but he definitely did not like that. He tried to follow us and then Mom dropped all her groceries she was carrying and threatened him with her knife. 

Then we started walking away after Mom picked up her bags again and the guy tried to follow us again. There wasn't anyone else around so Mom shoved him into an alley where I couldn't see them. She came out soon after and picked up her bags again and we went home. I saw her cleaning off her knife in the kitchen after so I think she killed him. Otherwise he probably would have been screaming.

I don't like that Mom kills people like my father did but at least she only does it when we are in danger. I wonder when I will have to kill someone. I know I will have to someday but I really don't want to.

[thetypewriterdaily]

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[clemsfilmdiary]

Runaway Bride (1999, Garry Marshall)

10/17/24

[stazvlt]

Life update

Sorry for the lack of drawing!! There's problem going on in my rl right now and i'll try my best to share some hp stuff even if it's gonna take some time. You guys can expect more henry AU and spooky october vibes. Thank you for your understanding 😭

[toioldsoul]

“And I always find, yeah, I always find somethin' wrong You been puttin' up wit' my shit just way too long I'm so gifted at findin' what I don't like the most So I think it's time (so I think it's time) For us to have a toast 

Let's have a toast for the douche bags Let's have a toast for the assholes Let's have a toast for the scumbags Every one of them that I know Let's have a toast for the jerk offs That'll never take work off Baby, I got a plan Run away fast as you can...”

Just minding my melancholy 💭...

[druggeddraccus]

so uhhh for christmas i got over-the-ear headphones. little background i’ve never owned these kind of headphones before and my mom would get annoyed with me cause i never used my other in-the-ear headphones because they always irritated me if i wore them to long.

anyway i’m obsessed with my new headphones. like i use to never listen to my music unless i was in my car. and this morning i was reminded that ashes by celine dion from the deadpool 2 soundtrack is a song that exists.

so i put on my headphones and now i’m literally cryng. like. thank u ryan and celine for this song omg

[pablolf]

Film Journal

"Runaway Train" by Andrey Konchalovskiy

[joejhang]

andrew is so real for thinking neil is a hallucination cos now that we have outsider pov on him it's actually insane that he's a real person. like this is neil josten: he's the prettiest boy you've ever met. he's the runaway son of a serial killer. he has a million dollars but is afraid of spending money. he folds his clothes a specific way so he can tell when someone's gone through his stuff. he keeps a stalker's journal on the two greatest exy players of all time. he wears coloured contacts and they're brown. he paid a busboy $100 to knock him out cold. he insulted a celebrity athlete on live tv after trying to keep a low profile. he says he's trying to stay alive while running towards death like it's a race. he mouths off to the mafia. he respects your boundaries and is the first person ever to take you at face value and not consider you an out of control psychopath. he orders hits on your abusers. he has the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen. he looks great in clubbing clothes but dresses like he's homeless. he insults someone for their "intricate and endless daddy issues" while his father is a convicted mobster and serial killer. he didn't give a fuck when his teammate was killed. everyone seems to like him even though it's clear he's hiding a million secrets. he doesn't catch on to the many many hints you're giving him. he calls you out not for being a danger to others but for being a danger to yourself. he thinks you should be protected as well as trusting you to protect him (and you think, how can someone be a victim and a protector?). he doesn't give a flying fuck what literally anyone thinks about him. he comes back from being waterboarded and tortured and abused for weeks (to protect you) and is still as feisty and bitchy as before. except now he's a redhead and has many more scars. he is possibly the first person to ever make the active decision to protect you. he's willing to put himself in harm's way again and again and again so he won't lose you. he always has a cigarette but he never smokes. he says "you're not actually a sociopath are you?" and "the next time someone calls you soulless i might have to fight them". even though he's messy and a little oblivious he's sees you. he might be the only person to ever want you off your drugs. he wants to see you lose control, is aware that you're not out of control, you're actually so controlled and restrained all of the time and he wants to see you feel something, he wants you to be angry, be angry at him. he riles you up on purpose to see you show emotion, feel something. he's a runner and yet he's still possibly the bravest person you've ever met. he gets kidnapped and comes back even more bruised and battered than before and he's still a mouthy little shit who bitches at the press and cuts deals with the yakuza. he's most of the reason why the worst team in the nation ends up winning championships. he shoves a guy clean off his feet because they body checked you. he punched celebrity athlete riko moriyama in public, for you. he threatens him, for you. he's almost killed on live tv. he mouths off to the fbi. he watches the (second) best exy player in the world get shot. he also watches his father, notorious serial killer and gangster, get shot in front of him. and he laughs. he smiles. he kisses you and is never gonna run again and he's free and he wants to be with you, he wants you.

[aftgphoenix]

A Runaway's Journal

Previous Entry in Nathaniel's journal

May 26, 1998

We made it to Uncle Stuart's house. He has a very big one in the countryside. Mom says that he's involved with the British mob and that I can't talk to anyone about him. I don't think she likes being here very much. She's really grouchy. She made me dye my hair. It's blond now. She's going to get me brown contact lenses so my eyes aren't blue anymore. Then she's going to take me to get a new passport that will have my new name so that we can go to Germany.

She will only talk to me in German now. It's really hard. She said I should forget trying to talk in English because that will only make it harder for me but sometimes it's just so hard! I'm already tired of it.

While Mom was running some errands, Uncle Stuart took me outside to his shooting range to teach me how to shoot a gun. It was really loud but it was kind of fun trying to hit the target. He said he's going to teach me where to shoot a person tomorrow because I need to know where to aim. I'm scared of that. I don't like to hurt people but Mom says it's the only way I'll be able to survive. I hope he's nicer than Lola and my father.

I think that's all. 

[basingstokemercury]

Wonder if I should get our changeling PC's player to watch DS9...

[familylightfox]

Many of the regulars of the cafe were used to the teen’s sudden entrances, but this was one of the few when there was someone in tow behind her. To say that a few could be heard gossiping in whispers at their tables only made the ginger roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Don’t I know it. It wouldn’t be a drag night here if at least one o’ the queens didn’t sing one o’ those two. Or Let it go.” Jeremy smirked and shrugged his shoulders, “But they draw a crowd so I can’t complain. I’m pretty sure they’re one o’ the reasons I can stay open.”

“That and this is one of the safest queer spaces Boston has seen in awhile.” One of the patrons spoke up, catching Jeremy’s eyes as they added, “Not to mention the owner’s decent eye candy.”

“Oh shut up!” With a quick glance to the side, pale cheeks flushed. The man could never take a compliment to save his life and shook his head before focusing on the brunette once more.

“Are you playin’ any shows while you’re here or just testin’ the waters o’ the city?”

THERE WAS AN UNDERSTANDING that flashed through green eyes at that. He wouldn't question it anymore, he was curious but if he was going to start poking into the teen's backstory he would at least give her the chance to tell it. Nothing more, nothing less. And since she seemed more interested in avoiding him, Maurice supposed that was that. He couldn't blame her, he was just surprised none of the patrons had raised a stink.

Hearing them agree with the other male made the brunette think that this wasn't the first time they had seen such a thing, however. And he wasn't sure how to feel about that, but it didn't stop him from snorting. "Parking can be a pain. 'S one reason I don't have a car. That an' I can't drive. Safer for everyone that way."

Plus there was no real need for it back where he lived, and he liked walking odd as it might have seemed. And if he ever needed to go outside of the city, that's where rideshares and public transport came in handy. But nothing beat using one's own two feet, you could see so much more that way.

But that was beside the point, and the brunette smiled at the question that followed. "Bit of both. I'd love t' focus mainly on my stuff but, let's face it, nothing draws a crowd like a rousing cover of Don't Stop Believing or Barbie Girl."

[largethingslargerthings]

Meditative Week of Poetry: Erik Jonah

Every morning I put on my sad gay shoes. Tuesday: blackberry smoothies. Angel has pink pepper spray, but Maddie doesn’t bother. My body is a weapon. I wonder if the world needs me, the small seedlings near the window, the coffee cup on the concrete stoop. It must be carried, yes. It must be buried in the earth forever. I’ve been dreaming about superheroes; some kind of fucked-up justice league. Our flag is rainbow, and Dezi swears so much it’s like they have a special power. When I ask, they tell me smoking crack. But if our powers were combined? If I divide the rain by zero. The traffic out front goes fast, big trucks from right to left, which is backwards. Syringes, leaves. A squirrel comes back to life. When I say our lives are fucked-up, my students team against me. It’s the world that’s fucked-up Erik. My bad. We’re out of sour-brite gummi worms, and when I turn off the blender, I hear the cough of someone throwing up their candy.

[slasherscream]

Hi, sorry to bug but I have to yap to someone about this, and I love your ideas. Do you think Nathan Prescott would take his partner’s last name if he ever got married? Would any of the Crazy Ass Boy Gang?

❥ who would take your last name ❥

Nathan Prescott - He would take your last name so quickly it would make your head spin. You’re the first person who’s given meaning to the world family. His sister tried, but when you’re on a sinking ship, there’s only so much you can do. Try too desperately to save the person drowning next to you and you risk going under yourself. So Nathan drowned alone. Until you, that is. Marrying you, becoming part of your family, is absolution for him. He’s not Sean Prescott’s son. He’s Nathan Y/L/N, your husband. 

Jason Dean/JD - It might seem a little strange for JD to be so willing to change his name. His nickname is just his first and last name together, afterall. This was his mother’s last name. But it’s also his father’s. One night he’ll gently wake you , and in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use he'll ask you if you’d like him to take your last name. There are so many questions he’s asking, in that one sentence: Do you want me to be yours, unequivocally? Will you bear the weight of that ownership? Am I abandoning my Mother, if I leave her all alone as a Dean, with only him as her company? Will you ask me to take it? Please ask. Please take the weight of the asking away. I can’t abandon her. But I can’t stay, either. Put your arms around him and tell him he’ll make one hell of a Y/L/N.

❥ who would want you to take theirs ❥

Sebastian Valmont - He has genuinely doodled your names together in his journals like a middle schooler. Without a hint of irony: Mr. and Mx. Valmont. Y/N Valmont. Since the moment he fell in love he was planning to marry you and give you his last name. The Valmont name carries weight. It’s legacy. It’s old money. He throws his name around and people fall over themselves to get things done for him. He wants you to throw around his name too. He wants you to embrace every luxury he can give you. One of those luxuries is the power of his family name. Use it.

Billy Loomis - His parent’s marriage failed miserably. He doesn’t even know if his Mother kept the name Loomis. At this point, what does it matter? He fights tooth and nail not to live in the past when he has a future with you to look forward to. So he wants to look forward. He wants to do better than his parents did. He wants to wake up in ten years, twenty, thirty and reach for your hand and know you two succeeded. His family name isn’t doomed to failed promises, runaway spouses, and unfaithfulness. You guys are a better Loomis pair than his parents ever were.

David Mccall - Don’t piss him off. If you even try to hint at wanting to keep your original family name, it will be one of the few times you see David’s mask slip. “What? My name not good enough for you, sweetheart? Marriage is for starting over. It’s for building our lives together, not for hanging onto the past. Thought you loved me.” Every dirty trick he has in his arsenal will be used. Whatever it takes until you give in. Sex. Guilt. Moping. Anger. Don’t push back too hard, or go back and forth on the issue for too long. On your wedding day you’re gonna be Y/N Mccall, come hell or high water. There’s no need for anything drastic to take place just for that to happen, right baby? 

Josh Washington - Josh could never be anything but a Washington. It’s the name he shared with his sisters. It’s the only thing he still shares with his sisters. He used to be able to see them in his face, at least. But now… he’s so different, even that bit of the twins has died. It isn’t right that there are so few Washington's left. Most days Josh isn’t even sure if he’s a Washington anymore. If he’s still Human anymore. But you are. You’re gentle, kind, and so painfully human. Just like the twins were. He might have failed them, hell, he probably failed himself. But he won’t fail you. He has a second chance at a family, and this time you’ll always be safe. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Would be so offended if this was even up for debate. Why wouldn’t you be taking his name? Why is it even a discussion? Why does he even have to ask? Will probably say something incredibly mean and unnecessary when you first talk about it. There’s a pit of insecurity in him that no amount of love you can give him will fill. It’s shaped like the love he should have gotten from his father. From his siblings. But the first love he’s ever felt has been yours. But that’s not true for you. You’ve loved people before him. Other people have loved you before he was able to. He needs you to be his. Just his. You’re the only thing in the world that matters that belongs only to him. But there are little pieces of you that will never be just his and it makes him sick. This can fix all that, though! He knows that the security of introducing you as his spouse will be a balm on his soul. He wants tabloids, newspapers, TV, and the radio to all be parroting the words: Y/N Hargreeves. He hopes- no, he knows it will make that hole inside him ache a little less. 

❥ who wants to hyphenate ❥

Jordan Li - Jordan doesn’t want you to give up your identity, who you are, just because you’re marrying them. They also don’t want to change their name, really. Something about not being a Li, despite everything, makes their stomach turn. But marriage is still about coming together. Making two lives so harmonious, so copacetic, that sometimes, if you’re lucky, it becomes one life, shared. Jordan didn’t propose for a long time, afraid of it all going wrong. Of ruining what you have. You helped them believe you two were strong enough to change and grow together. They want your names to reflect that. So, you hyphenate, and you blend, and grow, together. 

Stu Macher - Assumed you would take his last name, but when you pushed back, not sure if you wanted to shirk your family name entirely, Stu had the most relaxed reaction you’ve ever gotten from him about anything. “Okay, why don’t we both change 'em’? We’ll hyphenate! Like Brad Pitt and Angelina, or whatever.” You were expecting a tantrum. Not the easy acceptance that he actually meant for once. The fact is you’re wearing his ring on your finger, and you’re gonna stand in front of all your friends and family and say how much you love him. He’s already won. Why sweat the small stuff? 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Was quite angry when you began to hint at not wanting to change your name. It was the icy, calculated anger that made him dangerous, too. But if you’re marrying him you know how to communicate with him. Reason with him. You don’t want to take his last name because you don’t want to emulate his family. You want to make something of your own with him. You’re not sure how well the words worked until he sets the paperwork down in front of you. Kevin Y/L/N-Khatchadourian. In those small lines of ink, you’ll realize how deep the love Kevin is capable of runs for you. If you squint your eyes those words start to look like: I want us to be different from my parents. He watches you sign the paperwork to change your name, and Kevin has never been more content to give in to one of your demands. Just this once, of course.

A/N: i LOVE a character study question that’s still x reader. you are my favorite person in the world for this one. if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[emprexxluxaic]

PICK A CARD: THINGS THAT PEOPLE FIND ATTRACTIVE ABOUT YOU.

⠀ׅ ♡⠀࣪ emprexxluxaic ⸺ your angel ׅ ࣪ 𝅄

note: after a long time, I finally have a courage to do a reading for all of you. I hope your doing great mi amor and please do enjoy this another reading for you 🤍

PILE ONE

first thing is your body figure, through the way you stand. you might be in the taller side for most or whenever you walk it's like reminding them a model in a runaway or just have a nice pair of legs or it is just simply long. it also feel that you have a nice taste in fashion, you may love fashion and different hair colors— a rainbow hair color can be best and find it good for you. ² I see that you take a great amount of effort to look nice and presentable for other people, they like how you look good and as well as how you look neat and clean in your appearance. if you ever have a back tattoo they also love it, they love seeing it cuz it may have a nice design or meaning. I hear that you make tie your hair in ponytail style and people find it attractive specially for woman. some here are good at letting go and cutting of people who causes chaos and heartache in your life, people find it attractive cuz not all has the ability to cut ties in a person who you got attached and have bond too. it could significantly define that you were good at dealing problems or any negative emotions of people giving them such an advice which can bring a huge factor in you towards the other. you could be also a future oriented, you like to keep in track about your plans but doesn't tell most of the people unless you trust them will of your heart. great hands is what I'm hearing, it not you love to write things that need to be done or your just good at calligraphy. in social, I feel you were may often alone but doesn't mean you were lonely, you just enjoy your life alone which other do like and adore in you. you take a pride in being alone is important in you so it brings you to realization of what are your thoughts and are you and all.

extra message: forest, boots, good shape of nails, journals, a cat, orange, near water, beaches, carving, meditating, walking around and alone, enjoying movies.

﹏ ✿𝆬  like, reblog & follow mi amor ⬞ ࣪ ࿀

PILE TWO

these amazing amount of people love hearing your thoughts and voice, you can be a great singer, has a hobby of singing or just great speaker and advisor for people. for what I am seeing, they find it attractive in your eyelashes — natural or not, probably it suited for you. you were positive and it spread to people which brings light and love, you could be a happy person as well. I don't know why but they love it when you close your eyes or while you fell sleep cuz you look good or cute for them. I feel as well that they find it attractive in way of your sitting — your back is straight or it define elegance and for some you seat in such a boyish way I guess. You have a nice shape of body or they find it attractive how you love your body figure, for most it is a bikini body. you might be someone interested in journal or writing down your thoughts. they find it alluring when you take a pride in your art cuz it likes you make efforts in creating them or it makes them feel awe cuz it was cute or something. they also think that you have a nice hair, how the curl define your own face or how long your hair was. like I said you can be a singer not just that but also a good music taste or you actually create music, you may write poems and actually quite good at it. your soft hearted self bring impact to others, they love how good you are to people.

extra messages: heavenly beauty, flowers, rainbow, heart to heart conversation, able to see what is good and bad in people, hands are pretty, positive in body, flower hair clips, thighs tattoo.

﹏ ✿𝆬  like, reblog & follow mi amor ⬞ ࣪ ࿀

PILE THREE

They feel attracted to you when you wear things or clothes that has lavender/ purple with it. It suited your skin color or they just love how best you look in that color— they may think that your favorite color is purple. You could have have dark long hair— this could be resonate with for most or you enjoy dying your hair in different shades. I could hear that it feels they find it attractive in how you dance whether it just for fun or something— probably they love it how you make face while dancing in to beats of rhythm. You too as well may have a nice foot or nails, maybe it is well shave or your foot nails are pretty— all in all they just love staring at it. If you ever good at cooking or creating dishes they also find it attractive, like how does it possible you got the chef's hands on you. Big butts as I guess, wearing tight shorts or pants, you got a nice ass I think. If happened your butt aren't that big, they feel attracted about your hips or how your waist probably whatever size you are, you got curves. I feel that you can be a soft spoken , how feminine you are or how you show kindness and gratitude towards people. You may also has a habit of resting your hand in your chest when you do it they feel comfort and you are honest in what are you saying to them.

extra message: mermaid curls, diving or swimming, hands on waist, good at massaging, nice pair of hand, inner beauty.

﹏ ✿𝆬  like, reblog & follow mi amor ⬞ ࣪ ࿀

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Much (Little Sister Version)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @redbird-tf

Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.

It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.

“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”

“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.

“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”

Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.

So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.

Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.

So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.

The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.

I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…

And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.

And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.

The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.

It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…

But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.

The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.

“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…

You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room��it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.

You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.

You couldn’t talk about it.

A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.

You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.

“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”

“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.

“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”

It was later than you’d thought.

“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.

“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.

“I think we’re out,” you answered.

“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”

“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”

Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”

“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.

You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…

You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.

You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.

…

“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.

“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.

You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…

“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.

“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”

“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”

You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.

“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”

…

You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.

“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.

…

You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.

“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”

Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”

“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.

“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.

You shook your head.

“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”

“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.

…

You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.

You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.

You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.

You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.

You were still laying there when the door opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”

“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”

He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.

You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”

Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…

You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.

Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…

It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.

When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.

You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.

The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—

When Dean walked in.

“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”

“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”

“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.

“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”

Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.

“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”

“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”

“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”

“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”

“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”

“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.

“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”

“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”

“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you right now.”

Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.

“Then I’m here for you.”

Taglist:

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[cod-dump]

Teen!Ghost AU: Random Facts

Ghost already has his first tattoo. It’s a small skull on his chest that Nik helped him get. They’re both terrified of Price finding out about it. Ghost likes to draw designs on himself with markers, mostly for fun but also to help hide the tattoo in case Price sees it. Ghost wants to work with Nik on site but Nik has continuously redirected him towards other lines of work.

Alex is Laswell’s son. He has gauges in his years and is working on growing a mustache. Laswell hates the scrawny mustache so much already. Alex is honestly terrified of Price and is convinced the man will try to kill him for dating his son, so he does everything he can to make the man like him.

Gaz and Alex have been dating in secret for a year. Ghost knows about it and has helped keep it a secret from Price because he tends to be very protective. Gaz has a lot of stories written in journals in his room. He wants to be a writer so he’s constantly reading books for inspiration and to look at different writing styles and check different genres.

Nik is a construction contractor who does shady stuff on the side. He keeps his side business and the rest of his life separated, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to the people he cares about because of the work he does. Nik is practically Ghost and Gaz’s second father and considers them his sons even though they’re not.

Horangi is best friends with Soap and hangs out with Gaz only if Soap is there. Despite being very loud and confident, he’s actually very nervous about new people (especially people he finds cute). So, Horangi has a hard time being open around Gaz even though he really wants to get to know him.

Soap lives across the street from Ghost and Gaz. He befriended Gaz, being unaware that him and Ghost were brothers. When he found out, he had already developed a crush on Ghost and was talking about him to both Horangi and Gaz. Thankfully Gaz doesn’t mind and teases him over having a crush on his brother.

Price is very secretive about his work. To most, he’s a musician who settled down to have a family, but Laswell and Nik know exactly what he gets up to when no one is looking. Price is very protective of his boys. He knows people would try to hurt them to get to him so he doubles down on keeping an eye on them.

Laswell works along side Price. She disapproves of his relationship with Nik (which Price denies is a thing). She helps look out for Price’s boys and often will watch them when Price is away. She knows about Gaz and Alex’s relationship and finds it cute how they try to hide it.

Graves runs a boys home for runaways. He’s very protective of the boys under his care, that protectiveness extends to others around him. While he has very shady ways of protecting his boys, the people under his employment can be trusted. Graves works with Price and Laswell but he also has been on jobs with Nik. Graves is considered the richest man in town.