#and. oh my god i could not have picked a worse sideblog to reblog to i am so embarassed and sorry

[as-good-as-held]

oh my god oh my god i've been accidentally reblogging things to this account all day im so sorry im sO SORRY

[hhuta]

Oh my god you watched Dirk gently???? Yes!!! I rarely see people posts about it anymore and it was my favourite show for so long I'm so excited youve watched it!! Please share your thoughts 👀👀👀 I'm a starving man 😔 idk what to ask do I ask about your favourite character?? Your thoughts on the stuff that was gonna happen in s3??? Should I ask if you prefer s1 or s2??? Idk please thoughts

cooonnooorrrrrr u know the showwwww!!!!! aaaa!!

mY THOUGHTS ARE: dirk is my child and i will protect him forever.

literally all i can think about. i got so attached to him, i cant believe theres literally nOTHING ELSE OF HIM FOR ME TO WATCH. LIKE. ITS OVER??????? IM GONNA HAVE TO READ THE BOOKS THAT ARE VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE SHOW TO FILL THE VOID????????????????????? THIS IS WHY I STOPPED WATCHING TV SHOWS I HATE IT HERE

anyways. as u can see hes my fave character by far. i fell in love with him so fast :( hes so funny and dumb but also very smart 😔😔😔 and he suffered so much!!!!!!!!!! oh my god i wanted to fight everyone who was mean to him!!!!!!!!!! i only respect hobbs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love him too! i also love estevez and zimmerfield andnnnddd dodontnttt eveeennnn!!! getttt meee stARARTETDDDDD ON THEIIRRRRRR ENEDNDNINGGGSSSSS Because it doesnt exist. i dont acknowledge it. pure bullshit. i was truly close to te a r s during zimmerfield [redacted] scene???? did u??? did u see that shit????? THE TENDERNESS? WHAT THE F U CK WAS THAT ABOUT IM. im ok.

ah i love bart too so i fucking hATED HOW S2 ENDED FOR HER. WHY DIDNT SHE STAY WITH PANTO IN THE FAIRYTALE LAANNDDDDD OH MYGOODDDDDDD their dynamic was so good... and speaking of him, of course i love a gay icon, love his boyfriend too, another dumb gay!!! so many dumb gays. so much representation. im sad we didnt get to see a lot of them. i was so fuckign afraid they were also going to fucking die no i would riot!! i was ready to say "sO GLAD THIS GOT CANCELELDLDLD!!! OF COURSE THE GAYS GOT KILLED !!! NOT EVEN FICTIONAL FICTIONAL GAYS ARE SAFE!!" KJljdslklk i really was prepared for the worse after what happened to my other kings...... ill never get over that

and to be honest i was not vibing with the second season at first (probably, for sure..ly bc of what happened to my kings in s1. all these new characters were being introduced, i felt like pure shit just wanted them back. i couldnt properly enjoy it) also the whole.. fantasy thing.... is not my thing... idk... from the start, when i saw the fucking wand i wanted to scream dlkjas i knew it wasnt going to be for me. but i think it got better as it went on, it just didnt captivate me like the plot from s1. i didnt follow it as well? i enjoyed how i could easily pick up the little clues in s1 but tbh i think that just reflects dirk's state cuz we sorta follow his pov... he was v e r y lost during s2 and that rubbed on me!!! i didnt enJOYYYY ONE BITTT SEEING HIMMM SO FUCKING SAD... he was just sad and freaking out and he just needed a friend >:( and todd ugh he pissed me off a lot of the time dlkajskl........... ill never forget him saying dirk deserved to be alone 🚶‍♂️being a dirkette isnt easy.

but anyways its not like s2 was bad and dumb (im editing this and i just remember them trying to make todd/farah a thing. absolutely loathed that. that was bad and dumb. faratina for the win), the weird stuff did make sense in the end. of course thats what a child would imagine, even the scissors as weapons made sense. aND AMBOOLENTS. IDK IF U REMEMBER THAT BUT GOD IT MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH. also suzie was a good villain and tina and hobbs were amazing 🥰aGAIN I WAS SO READY FOR ONE OR BOTH OF THEM TO DIE.... no this fear really ruined things for me lkdjalsk.... oh mona !!! lOVE HER TOO! shes so pretty, first of all. when i saw her glowing eyes in the first ep i was like heyyyy 💕ANyways her character???? like?? so interesting??? not knowing who shes supposed to be?!?!?! i got hooked right awayyyy when she said that

oh my god i wish s3 existed and it was about heeerrrr. mona and dirk would be great besties 😔 and he would finally have his actual detective agency :(((((( but do u mean what i want to happen or this that might have happened? cuz im only looking at dirk/assistent romance lkdjakls mister sir lieutenant assistent was funny and so brave for putting up with friedkin so hes prepared for dirks intelligent dumbness and i want to see dirk happy its a win win. TODD BEING A ROCKSTAR AGAIN YES! all the other stuff yes too except bart teaming up with ken idek why she would do that after he 1. became a dick and 2. betrayed her (PLUS he shot dirk, im resentful, therefore i hate him forever and i dont want bart near him ever again)

sooooooo unfair that the show only has 2 seasons..... its such a rich universe with good characters.... all of them.. amanda and farah got great character development.. i already miss it im so sad..... im strongly considering making a sideblog to reblog stuff..

but what are your thoughtssss? tell me anything !!! do u have a fave episode? since i just finished s2, i remember loving S2xE6. the concert aftermath was really funny also dirk in pink <3

fashion icon <33

[frightgothcar]

HEY! Hey, you, reading this!!! I fuckin love writing but what I need to be able to write is a little thing called approval!! If you like this please comment and/or reblog!!!!!!!!!!

Area 51 au thingy. Danny/Wes. Songfic? Not really but the whole idea came from this song. V is based off of @its-towarzysz (main)/ @we-all-horny-here (sanders sides sideblog)/ @cockworktower (dp side blog) you should check them out, they make hella good content. Thanks to all my friends who helped me with motivation/proofreading. Tw for Death, Blood, Guns, and Violence. (Tell me if I forgot anything). I love this pairing and the lack of content sparks deep anger in my soul!! :)) Thanks for reading, enjoy!!

EDIT: Posting this on ao3 also @/godcannotdefeatfanfic 

September 20th, 10:30 am

Area 51

Wes Weston had nothing to live for. Ever since his Mom had gone out for cigarettes on his 6th birthday and never come back his life had been a constant downward spiral. Maybe that was why he was in the middle of the Nevada desert, preparing to attempt to rush a highly armed government facility with a million other suicidal Millenials.  

He fanned his face with his hand. It was over 86 degrees and he was practically melting in his Casper High spirit T-Shirt and blue jeans. He contemplated getting into his pickup truck and blasting the a/c but considering he only had a quarter tank of gas left, and it was a good 20 miles to the nearest gas station, he decided against it. Instead, he got onto his phone and texted his friends for the third time that morning. 

Basketball-Boi: where r yall? its hot.

Phurry: we’re just driving in!! Do u see us?

Basketball-Boi: uhhh whats ur car look like

Phurry: the silver one

Basketball: V there are like a million silver ones what kind of car

Phurry: uhh Val says its called a subaru we’re right by a black car

Red_Huntress: They’re standing on the roof and waving. Can you see us now?

Wes looked up from his phone to see a person, about his age, standing on the roof of a silver Subaru, wearing a black band t-shirt and neon green booty shorts. Their long blond ponytail swished around their face as they jumped up and down excitedly. A girl stepped out of the car and began scolding her friend. She was wearing a matching red pair of shorts, there was black lettering on her backside that he couldn’t quite make out. He began waving back, which only excited the blond more. They lept over the brown-skinned girl and bolted towards Wes.

“Ready to fuck some aliens, Basketball-Boi?” They pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I was born ready!” He laughed, “How are you, V?”

“Pretty gay, thanks for asking.”

Wes opened his mouth to speak but V cut him off with an excited shout.

“Oh! That reminds me!” They slipped their arms out of their backpack straps and dug through the mint green bag for a minute before pulling a pair of hot pink shorts, “I wanted us all to match! Made ‘em myself!”

They flipped the shorts around to reveal ‘100% Nasty’ embroidered onto the ass in black. They then turned around to show off their own message, that read ‘Trash Man’.

“I made one for Val too, c’mon, we have to wear them!!”

Wes grabbed the shorts and held them to his hips. “Is this what you needed my measurements for?”

They nodded enthusiastically, “I was gonna make us team jackets, but that’s so cliche.”

“Huh, I mean, don’t get me wrong, these are… great, but are you sure pink is my color?”

V rolled their eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Wes! Just put them on, you’ll see.”

Wes sighed and walked behind his red truck for some privacy, not that there was much of that, the field was crowded with cars. He pulled down his blue jeans, thankful for the breeze on his legs, and pulled on the shorts. They were a perfect fit, clinging to his waist, and resting on his barely existent hips. The feeling of showing so much skin was odd to him, he’d never worn anything that short in public, but the look on V’s face made it all worth it to him. They didn’t laugh like he’d been expecting them to, instead clapping their hands and going on about how relieved they were that the shorts actually fit. He did a quick turn for them, and they nodded in satisfaction.

“I think it’s about time we caught up to Val, did y’all remember to bring soda?”

“Only the finest Mountain Dew the 7/11 could provide, M’lady,” V grinned. 

“Than shall we be going, M’lord?” Wes held out his arm.

“Indubitably.” V linked their arm through his and they wandered through the crowd, searching for Valerie’s silver Subaru. 

“Wes! V! Over here!” Val called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a Mountain Dew at her friends. The two of them waved back and jogged toward her. 

“Hey Val, long time no see,” Wes grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed ya, Weston,” Val reached up to ruffle his hair, but Wes dodged, pulling her into a headlock instead. 

“Missed ya too, Grey,” He gave her a noogie and released her, leaving her free to jump onto him and boost herself high enough to get revenge.

“Aww, adorable! Old lovebirds rekindling an old flame?” V fluttered their eyelashes at their friends, who immediately recoiled.

“Ew, no! Wes? If I had to pick a guy, maybe. And that’s a hard maybe. I’m too gay for this.” Valerie picked up her can from the hood of her car and took a swig.

“Yeah! She’s like my little sister!”

“Hey, I’m older than you!”

“By like two weeks!”

V broke into laughter, “Cool it lovebirds, I’m only joking.”

Val and Wes rolled their eyes at V, who was now on the ground, rolling with laughter. 

“Permission to pour some soda out onto our hilarious friend’s head?” Val asked teasingly.

“Permission granted! Fire at will!” Wes saluted. Val tipped her can enough to sprinkle V with the sticky green drink. They got to their feet, still laughing, and lunged for Val’s can. They knocked it backward, spilling soda all over Val’s shirt.

“EEK,” She squealed, “You’ll pay for this, Trash Man, If it’s the last thing I do!” 

She tried to push the can towards V, but they still had a grip on her arm. They tugged the can back and forth for a few seconds before it crumpled under the pressure.

“Shit!” Val swore, letting go of the can and cradling her palm. “I think I cut myself.”

V dropped the can, game of tag forgotten, and crowded next to their friend. Wes joined their huddle. 

“I think I have a first aid kit in my truck. How bad is it?” He asked.

Val opened her hand to reveal a small, but deep wound on the side of her palm.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, if I hadn’t-” V began.

“Naw, it was as much my fault as yours. Anyway, we were having fun, and it’s really just a scratch. Keep focused on those Aliens, Private!” Val reassured them.

“Aye aye, Captain!”

Wes walked back to his truck, ignoring the stares of passerby. He grabbed his first aid kid (thank god for boy scouts) and walked back to Val’s car.

“So,” Wes ripped open a disinfecting wipe with his teeth and got to work cleaning her hand of blood. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s doing-” She drew in a sharp breath as he dabbed along the wound with a clean wipe. “Fine. The new job’s working out great, he’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Wes nodded and began wrapping her hand in gauze, “I’m glad. He wasn’t himself when you left.”

“It really all did work out for the better, didn’t it,” V smiled and handed Wes a length of medical tape. “Oh! I forgot! Val, show Wes what your ass says!”

She groaned, “Do I have to?”

V scowled, “Of course you have to, it was your idea!”

“I was just joking!”

“Tsk tsk, I think you’ve known me long enough to know that when it comes to cursed content, there are no jokes.”

“C’mon Val, it can’t be worse than ‘100% Nasty’,” Wes smirked.

V gasped dramatically and feigned offense, “You’ve wounded me! I work so hard, and for what, ungrateful friends?”

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy I’ll show him my ass. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She winked at him before turning to show her backside. Black embroidery spelled out ‘Booty Hunter’.

Wes burst out laughing, which quickly turned to hysteric noises only vaguely resembling laughter, squeals, and snorts with shrieking giggles between them. V and Val couldn’t help but join in. The second one of them stopped laughing someone would whisper Booty Hunter and it’d start all over again. 

“Okay, okay,” Wes gulped in air, “We- hic -should calm down now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Val wiped a tear from her eye, “I am the Queen of Calm.”

V got to their feet and dusted themself off. “Totally calm. Calmer than a… something calm.”

“When does the raid start?” Wes pulled out his phone and checked the time. 12:00.

“Around, 12:30ish, we have time.” V waved their hand.

“I dunno, it’s already 12, maybe we should start getting ready.”

“What do you mean it’s already-” V snatched the phone from his hand, “Huh. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

“Wait, get ready for what exactly? I mean, we’re here, we’ve got our shorts on, there’s enough Mountain Dew in my car to drown an elephant, what else is there to get ready?” Val questioned.

“Uhhh, I dunno, stretch?” Wes shrugged, “It just feels like we’re forgetting something. What exactly is the plan for this whole thing anyway? Are there gonna be waves? Do we all go at once? This is a pretty poorly organized event.”

Val shrugged, clearly unphased by the lack of organization, “We’ll just go when everyone else starts running. I’m sure the start of gunfire will tell us when.”

“Look, if it’s making you so worried, we can stretch before. I’m sure everything will be fine. Plus, we all get alien Girlfriends, so it’s a win-win!” V put their hand on his arm. Wes smiled thankfully down at them.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Yall must think I’m being a nitpick-”

“Not at all! You’re probably right, after all, it must be at least a mile to the base from here, and we can’t let cramps keep us from sweet sweet alien romance.” Val propped her leg up on the hood of her car and pressed her head to her knee, “Plus that’ll give us an advantage over the Kyles.”

V nodded and fell into a lunge, “We’ve been training since July for this, can’t let it get away now because we forgot to stretch.”

Wes bent over and touched his toes, “Thanks y’all, you’re really the best friends I could ask for.” 

The screech of a megaphone rang out through the valley. A voice came through the static, “Raiders! Get into position, we’re storming the gates in exactly fifteen minutes!” 

A cheer broke through the crowd as people began chugging what was left of their sodas and migrating towards the front lines. 

“Well, this is it I guess. If I don’t make it out of the raid, put this on my tombstone.” Wes gestured downward, where he was holding his hand in a circle. 

“Dammit!” Valerie chuckled as Wes gave her a playful punch in the arm. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” V shouted and sprinted forwards as Wes moved towards them.

“On your marks!”

“Wanna bet on that?” Wes shouted back, weaving through the crowd to catch up with them.

“Get set!”

V pushed forward, using their small frame to their advantage, easily losing the taller one in the crowd.

“Raid!”

The mob roared, then began thundering forward, but the deafening sounds of the people were nothing compared to what followed. Thousands of guns began firing at once, hitting everyone and everything in the vicinity. Wes watched with horror as the first wave of people were mowed down right before his eyes. A flash of neon green caught his eye through the carnage. He ran towards his friend, who was standing, paralyzed, next to a few other survivors. He shouted their name, and just as they turned their head another hailstorm of bullets rained down. The first one embedded itself right into V’s chest, right above their heart. Wes sprinted to catch his injured companion, but by the time he got there the life was already draining from their eyes.

“V! V, can you hear me? Don’t go into the light, hold on, ok? You’ve got this, V, answer me!”

He pressed his head to their chest, a weak heartbeat answered him. “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh, you’re okay.” 

Something wet dripped down his face, and he realized he was crying.

“...Wes,” V rasped out, then began violently coughing up blood. Little flecks of red peppered Wes’ face like freckles. “Fuck an alien for me, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Their body went limp in his arms. 

“V? V! V, wake up, please, that can’t be it, please V, you’re only 17, please!” He shook their corpse, but to no avail. V was gone. He closed his eyes and let out a shuttering breath before standing up, still clutching their body in his arms. 

“Second wave! On your marks!” The megaphone blared to life.

The crowd let out another, less confident cheer. After seeing all the carnage most of the raiders were less enthusiastic to ‘see them aliens’. But this time Wes had made up his mind. He was going to make it into that Government facility, and he was gonna burn that motherfucker to the ground.

“Get set!”

He laid his friend on the ground and pressed a kiss to their forehead. If it wasn’t for the massive amount of blood they could’ve been sleeping.

“Go!”

Wes screamed with all the anger he had in him and charged forward. Bullets rained down near him, but this time there were less of them. This time he had a chance. He saw the gate coming closer. He was only 50 feet away, he could make it! He hopped over the fence, ignoring the blaring of sirens, and kept running. He pushed his way into the building, where, surprisingly, there was no security. It looked like they had invested all their soldiers into protecting the outside of the base. His adrenaline rush began to slow down. He dragged his feet down the linoleum hallway, looking at his bloodsoaked hands. 

“What the fuck just happened?” He whispered to himself, still shellshocked. A flicker of light caught his eye. Grateful for a distraction, he turned his attention to what looked like a futuristic control panel. The buttons were labeled in some sort of code, their luminescent surfaces grinning up at him.

“Looking for me, Short-Shorts?” A calm voice echoed through the hall. Wes whipped around, ready for a fight.

“Why so on edge, Ginger? Surely I’m not that intimidating.” It purred.

“Who are you?!” Wes shouted. He winced at the echo. Did he really sound that unhinged?

“On your left.” 

He turned and found himself face to face with the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. He looked about his age, maybe 17. His skin was tan, but had a slight blueish tint, as if he’d been without oxygen for a while. Poking from his tuft of pearly white hair was a pair of blur antenna. He had a small build, maybe 5 feet tall at best, but was floating at eye level with Wes. Speaking of his eyes, they were quite possibly the most gorgeous thing about him. He had eyes greener and glowyer (is that even a word? Either way it was true.) than toxic waste, his pupils were like a cat’s, slit down the middle. He was clothed in a baggy black prison jumpsuit. He looked almost alien. Wes realized with a start that he must be an alien. 

“Are you done staring?” The boy asked, snapping Wes out of his trance. “It won’t be long before the guards realize you’re in here, and I’d rather get out without a bullet hole.”

“I- I don’t- what are you?” Wes stammered.

“I’m Project Phantom, or Danny if you prefer. What’s your name?”

“I’m… Wes?”

[sunlightdances]

Love Laid Down (Part Two)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader: Rating: PG (this part) Words: 3320 (this part) Summary: You and the Winchesters keep investigating why couples in a small town in Indiana are going missing, and the sexual tension between you and Dean ratchets up a notch. Author’s Note: I absolutely cannot BELIEVE the response I got to the first chapter. I am so thrilled and so grateful to all of you for your kind messages, replies, and reblogs. I hope you enjoy the next part! Also please note that I started a tag list for this story and added all of those people at the bottom. If you’re not there, please let me know and I’ll add you. Some of the tags didn’t work (not sure if that’s a privacy setting on some of your blogs, or a Tumblr error), but I’ll try my best to get it working for everyone!

One last thing - this is a sideblog - I can’t follow anyone back! My main blog is linked in my sidebar. Sometimes I like/follow/reply to people’s comments from there. Just a heads up to avoid confusion.

Happy reading!

Read part one here!

“So, what did you guys find out?” Sam asks, when you get back to the house.

“Nothing useful.” You say, and Dean glares at you. “What?” You turn to Sam. “It’s true. We just made small talk. The Pastor seems normal. His assistant Melissa seems a little… out there. Dean was supposed to case the place--”

“How was I going to do that with Pastor Whatshisname watching me?”

“Williams.” You say, “And you could have made an excuse. Asked where the bathroom was or something.”

“We’ll just do it on Sunday,” Dean grumbles, plopping down on the couch. “Everyone will be in Sanctuary and I can slip out for a few minutes.”

“I met a few other joggers on my run,” Sam says, cracking open a water bottle. “They didn’t know much about the disappearances. Just kept saying it was ‘such a shame’.”

You frown. “Seems like a small town like this would be more concerned if people were disappearing en masse.”

Sam nods. “That’s what I thought, too. I didn’t want to seem too suspicious though. I told them about you guys, by the way. Don’t be surprised if neighbors start showing up.”

Dean groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You echo his sentiments, not liking the thought of people coming around unannounced and uninvited. You already have no idea who or what you’re looking for, and you’ve been feeling paranoid ever since you arrived in town.

“Let’s just hang out and play it cool for a few days while we figure out what we’re dealing with. We still need to figure out the similarities between the victims.”

You sigh. “So, the library?”

Sam laughs, “Don’t sound too excited.”

.

.

You’re at the library with Sam for hours. Four people come over to you to introduce themselves, and you’re sort of astounded at how quickly word spreads. It does nothing to lessen your paranoia, and Sam calls you out on it.

“Okay,” he says, putting down the newspaper he’s reading, “what’s going on? You’re acting weirder than usual.”

“First,” you say, glaring, “that’s rude. Second… there’s nothing going on. I’m fine.”

“You’re being weird. Did something happen?”

“No! I just… I don’t know, Sam, something doesn’t feel right. I’ve been feeling so paranoid ever since we got here.”

Sam eyes you closely. “Let’s get out of here. You look like you could use some sleep.”

“No kidding.” You mutter, “Dean’s probably back from the police station by now, anyway.”

While you were at the library, Dean was going to check out the police department under the guise of looking for a buddy of his who used to work there. It was a stretch that in such a small town they wouldn’t realize he was talking about someone who had never worked there, but you figured that no one in this place knew who Dean really was, even if he was using his real name.

Getting back to the house, you’re greeted with the mouthwatering smell of something cooking on the stove. “Oh my god,” you say, turning the corner to the kitchen to see Dean flipping some hamburgers, “you’re my hero.”

“Hungry?” He asks, grinning. “How was the library?”

“Interesting.” Sam says.

“Boring,” you say at the same time, and you snigger. “Sorry, Sammy. It was… I don’t know. We didn’t figure really anything out. But I met probably all of our neighbors.”

“Me too.” Dean says, putting a plate in front of you. “They bought my shitty excuse for being there, anyway. I told them I used to be a detective and was looking for an old partner of mine. They were so excited they showed me around the entire place.”

“Anything weird?” Sam asks, before taking a bite of his food.

Dean shakes his head. “No, not really. No sulfur, no trace of EMF, nothing. I have no idea what we’re looking for. We need to find the missing person’s reports.”

Sam nods. “I tried to find them online but came up empty. Nothing at the library, either.”

“They’re still open cases,” you point out. “Maybe we can ask the Pastor about it. Some of their friends must have come to him for comfort after church.”

Dean nods. “Good idea. Now, let’s eat, and then get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

.

You’re researching on your laptop in the middle of the night when you hear a noise in the kitchen. Freezing, you quickly reach under your pillow for your gun, and curse when you realize it isn’t there. You remember you left it in the trunk in the Impala, and roll your eyes at yourself.

Hearing more noise, you pad quietly to your duffel in the corner and grab the knife in the lining, making sure you have a good solid grip before slipping out of your bedroom, heading down the stairs.

You’re silent as you creep around the first floor, checking the front and side door before you head to the kitchen. Your heart is pounding, the paranoia from the last two days causing you to be on edge more than usual.

When you turn the corner, your heart slams against your rib cage as you’re suddenly face-to-face with Dean.

“Christ,” you breathe, and he steps backwards, hands up.

“Looking to shiv someone, kid?”

“You scared me!”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Why are you making so much noise?!”

“I got hungry!” He says defensively, and you roll your eyes, letting your arm with the gun drop. He doesn’t say anything else, and when you look back at him, his eyes snap to yours. Suddenly you realize what you’re wearing - nothing but a tank top and some tiny sleep shorts. You blush, and thank God it’s dark enough in here that hopefully he can’t see.

“I wasn’t asleep either. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep.” You admit, and he takes a few steps closer.

“Come on, I have an idea.” He says, and you follow him back upstairs.

Dean leads you back to your bedroom, and grabs your laptop, despite your protest. “Come on, sit down.” He says, and you grin when you see him opening Netflix. “We never finished that documentary.” He says quietly, not looking away from the screen.

“Good idea,” you say, hoping some of the awkwardness will dissipate. You plop down next to him and set the laptop in between the two of you as you lean backwards against the headboard.

You make it almost an hour before you start to feel your eyes drooping, and before you can remind yourself why sleeping next to Dean Winchester is a bad idea, you’re asleep.

In the morning, the first thing you register is how warm you are. You snuggle closer to your heat source, and sigh in contentment, thinking to yourself that you could easily stay this warm and this comfortable for the rest of your life.

Your eyes fly open when an arm snakes around your waist and tugs you backwards into a hard body, and you remember where you are. Dean.

You freeze, hoping he’s not awake, and not really sure what you’ll do if he is. You don’t hear anything, and his breathing remains steady, so you close your eyes and take a deep breath, willing your racing heart to calm down.

It’s just -- this is Dean. Your friend. Your best friend, really. You don’t know why you agreed to this whole fake marriage thing. You have always had feelings for Dean, even though you’ve been pretty good at shoving them aside so they don’t ruin things. He’s insanely attractive, and you think that just the right look from him would probably light you up if you let it.

Next to you, Dean’s breathing picks up, and you instinctively know he’s awake. You don’t move, wondering what you should say, when you feel his fingers flex slightly. He thinks you’re asleep, you think to yourself, and will yourself to stay calm as you try to take a cue from him and figure out what to do.

Dean moves, slowly, and if you were truly asleep you think you never would have noticed. He scoots an inch closer to you, and you can picture him peeking over your shoulder to try to see if you’re asleep or not. His breath tickles your neck, and you shiver, unable to help yourself.

Dean whispers your name, but you don’t reply, too nervous to answer him even if you wanted to. You concentrate on keeping your breathing even, and hoping he’ll back off before you do something stupid like turn around and kiss him.

Dean’s hand moves, sliding up your ribcage before landing on your arm, ghosting along up towards your shoulder. The touch is so light you can barely feel it, but that’s almost worse. His touch is whisper soft and lighting your veins on fire.

You’re just about to roll over and do something dumb when he moves, easing himself out of the bed next to you. You let out a small breath of relief, but also feel disappointment sweep over you.

You wait until he leaves the room before you push to lay flat on your back, taking a deep breath. What the hell was that?

.

.

You’re at the grocery store with Sam and Dean later that day when you run into Melissa from the church. She greets you and Dean with a smile and looks at Sam inquisitively before Dean introduces his brother.

“You three should stop by the church social tonight!” She says excitedly, and you force a smile even though on the inside you’re thinking that you’d rather be anywhere but at a church social.

“Maybe we will,” you say instead, looking at Dean for help.

“Uh--” He stutters, “We’re still trying to unpack, but if we finish in enough time, we’ll stop by.” He throws her a million dollar smile and that seems to be enough to put off her suspicion for the time being.

After getting the groceries and leaving the store, Sam says quietly, “Something’s weird about her.”

“That’s what we thought.” Dean says, grim. “This whole town seems freaky. Look,” Dean says, gesturing, “There’s hardly anyone outside. It’s a nice day, and for a town that’s planning a party, the welcoming committee isn’t out.”

Dean’s right; you look around and see a few people coming in and out of shops, but other than that, there’s no foot traffic, nobody driving down the center of town, and only a few people inside the diner you ate at the day before.

“This whole place gives me the creeps. Let’s just figure out what the hell we’re hunting and get out of here.” You say, heading down the street, Dean and Sam a couple steps behind you.

You take a few hours to do more research into the missing people. All you have to go on are news reports from the neighboring towns, nothing from this one itself. That strikes you as weird in and of itself. No reporting done on missing people, even though they’re going at almost a rate of four people per month.

“You know,” Dean says, around a mouthful of chips, “This reminds me of that one place… Sammy, you remember? That was in Indiana, too. The teenagers were going missing.”

“The scarecrow town?” Sam asks, furrowing his brow. “I guess so, but didn’t our ritual send the God they were worshipping packing?”

Dean shrugs. “That was before the seals and the apocalypse and all that shit. Who knows what got out.”

“I’ve got something.” You say, squinting at your laptop. “Only one of the papers mentions it, but we’ve got nothing else to go on. All the couples that disappeared are married, right?”

Sam nods.

“They’re also newlyweds. No one missing had been married for more than six months.”

Dean stares at you. “I’m missing something.”

“It’s more than we had to go on before! I’m just saying. What if there’s some kind of… I don’t know, ritual thing going on at the church? We need to find out if these couples got married by Pastor Williams.”

“We better head down to the social if we want to talk to him.” Sam says, and Dean groans.

“I hate church parties. Do I have to wear a tie?”

You grin. “Probably a sweater, too.”

Dean flips you off, and you laugh, heading upstairs to change. You grab a dress that you thought to pack at the last second, and throw it into the dryer on the first floor of the house to get the wrinkles out. While you’re waiting, you head back upstairs to get started on doing something with your hair. You don’t want the church ladies to think you’re a harlot, after all, you think to yourself, snickering.

“Dryer stopped,” Sam says, appearing in the doorway with your dress.

“Thanks, dude.”

Sam looks at you for a minute, shaking his head.

“What?” You ask, “And be very careful with what you say next, Sam Winchester.” You threaten, and he laughs.

“It’s nothing bad! Just wondering what Dean’s going to think when he sees you, is all.”

You glare at him, trying not to blush. “Do you really think I picked out this outfit because I care what Dean thinks?”

“No, not at all.” Sam’s clearly trying not to laugh, and you resist the urge to throw something at him. “We’re going to leave in twenty.” He says, before leaving you to get dressed, wondering if you were going to make it through this hunt without seriously injuring one or both of the Winchesters.

.

.

Dean’s holding your hand.

It’s stupid. It’s insignificant, really, but all you can think about is how warm and rough his palm is against yours as he twines your fingers together absentmindedly, tugging you through the crowd of people to get you both something to drink.

“Will you relax?” He whispers, “You’re going to give us away.”

“Sorry if I’m a little tense,” you snap back, and he stops short, causing you to almost run into him. To anyone watching, you look like a couple having a quiet, private conversation, but they can’t see the way Dean’s eyes are burning into yours with concern and just a little bit of annoyance.

“You need to get a better game face.” He says quietly. “We have to fool all these people. And hell, if all the research you’re doing ends up to be correct, then acting like we’re married also makes us bait. If we want to catch whatever’s doing this, we have to play our parts. Okay?” The last part is quiet and gentle, but you still feel the sting of his reprimand, and have to remind yourself that he’s been doing this so much longer than you have.

“Look at me.” He whispers, and you look up, a little startled at just how close he is to you. “We can do this. You and me, okay? Just have to pretend that you give a shit about this fuckin’ picnic.” He says, and it’s so Dean that you can’t help it - you laugh.

“That’s better.” He says, lips twitching as he gives way to a smile. “Come on. I’m starving. I heard someone say something about fried chicken.”

On your way to get some food, you meet up with Sam, who looks like he’s having an uncomfortable conversation with an older woman near the food table. “Dean! Good, just in time.” Sam looks at the older woman, “Lucinda, can you tell my brother what you just told me? My brother and his wife are newlyweds, so I’m sure they’d love to hear your story.” He says warmly.

“I was just telling your brother here that it’s such a shame that you couldn’t have moved here before you got married! They have the nicest weddings at the church.”

“Oh?” You ask, looking sideways at Dean, “We’re sorry we missed out,” you tell her, smiling sweetly.

“Everyone in town, almost, has gotten married right here at this church. People used to go out to the old barn on the highway - the one with the apple trees - and have their weddings, but now they all go on right in there. Such a nice tradition.” She says, before excusing herself to go talk to a friend.

Sam leans in close. “We need to get inside that church.”

You nod. “Dean and I can go inside. Everyone’s out here. This might be the only chance we get before service on Sunday.”

Sam nods. “I’ll keep watch. Go ahead.”

Dean takes your hand again, pulling you through the throng of people and up the church steps. The large wooden doors are propped open, so you slip inside after Dean, checking to make sure no one’s watching you.

“Come on,” Dean says, walking towards the back of the church, where the offices are. Along the way, you’re checking under the rugs and paintings for any signs of ritualistic symbols.

After a few minutes, you split up. You head towards the Pastor’s office, hoping that it’s unlocked, and smile in victory when the door opens without any resistance. You look around quickly, but don’t notice anything out of the ordinary until your eyes catch on an antique looking safe behind Pastor Williams’ desk.

Walking over, you try to figure out what it could be for. You suppose it could be for any number of things, but some instinct in you is telling you you need to get that safe open. You’re close to crouching down to crack it, but before you do, Dean comes in the room, pulling you to your feet.

“We’ve got company,” he says, pulling you out into the hallway. “Shit.” He swears as he hears voices getting closer.

“I’ve got an idea,” you say, tugging his arm so he follows you into a small alcove in the corridor. “Play cool.” You tell him, but he still jumps when your arms slide around his neck, tugging him closer so you’re only inches apart.

“Kid…” His voice is husky as he tries to figure out what you’re doing.

“Shh,” you tell him, listening as the footsteps get closer. You take a step even closer to Dean until your legs are practically intertwined and try not to pay attention to the way his breathing is shallow.

“... meet you back here after dark, and-- oh!” Melissa’s voice is loud as she interrupts you, “Mr. and Mrs. Winchester!”

You and Dean jump apart, guiltily, and you’re thankful that the flush on both of your faces can hopefully be attributed to being “caught”.

“I’m so embarrassed... “ you start, looking at Melissa and Pastor Williams. “We just… we wanted a few minutes of quiet, and well…” you trail off, looking at Dean.

Pastor Williams smiles. “To be young and newly married.” He says. “I remember those days.”

You perk up, “Oh, I’d love to meet your wife. Is she outside?”

A shadow passes over the Pastor’s face. “No, she’s not well.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” You say, and Dean nods.

“We’ll get out of here. Sorry for this,” he says, “Really.”

“Not to worry. You kids go back outside and have fun.”

You and Dean hustle outside and he grabs your elbow before you can start looking for Sam. “Did he seem a little cagey about his wife?”

“Definitely. Seems like we need to find out more about Mrs. Williams.” You say.

Dean stares at you a minute longer, opening his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. He scratches the back of his head, a move you’ve seen him do a million times when he feels uncomfortable, and you feel dread sink into your stomach. Did you take your act too far? Did you push him too much?

“Let’s go find Sam.” Dean murmurs, and lets go of you, leaving you to trail after him, hoping you haven’t done anything to ruin your closest friendship.

Chapter Three 

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