#bobby hunts him for sport

[sweetm0uringlamb]

fuck John Winchester. all my homies hate John Winchester.

[samuelsdean]

Next To You

pairing: sam winchester x reader

summary: waking up next to sam was your favorite thing in the world.

genre: fluff

word count: 1.4k

author's notes: i would very much love to wake up next to sam don't y'all think so? i literally wrote this because i think t'd feel so good to be hugged by him the entire night and wake up to him first thing in the morning.

WAKING UP NEXT TO SAM WAS PROBABLY YOUR FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD. IT WAS YOUR REFUGE, A SANCTUARY FROM THE WORLD'S HARSH EDGES. It was a reminder that each day is another day you get to spend the rest of your life with the love of your life.

You loved waking up next to Sam because his warmth radiated like your favorite hoodie, chasing away the remnants of a cool summer night. Tucked into the space between his jaw and chest, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, his arms encasing you.

Slowly, you untangled yourself from his embrace, careful not to disturb his sleep. The light of dawn peeked through the window, painting a golden sheen across Sam's face. His brow furrowed slightly, a crease etched between his eyes, usually reserved for facing down monsters, but right now, it softened with sleep, replaced by the slight ajar of his lips.  

Watching Sam sleep had you going through your memories in a flash—the way he surprised you with your favorite flowers, after being gone from a hunt, a shy smile gracing his features as he laid a gentle kiss on your reddened cheeks. You smiled wistfully when you recalled how Sam confessed to you his feelings the night he had gotten home from a hunt that went on too long and could've gone sideways.

The motel room door creaked open, revealing a battered Sam Winchester. Dried blood stained the sleeve of his jacket and he was sporting a nasty gash on his right cheek, a grim souvenir from the hunt gone south.

Exhaustion hung heavy around him, a storm cloud threatening to unleash the floodgates of aches and pains. He wanted to go to sleep as soon as he stepped inside the dank motel room, but the tiny flicker of light beneath the door held him captive.

There you were, bathed in the warm glow of a lamp, hands wringing together and brows crimped in worry. Sam seemed to forget all about sleep when he saw you. He has never yearned for anything the way he has right now with the sight of you, his relic of normalcy in his chaotic world. He pushed the door open further, the sound jarring in the silence.

You looked up, surprise giving way to relief. "Sam! Thank goodness you're alright. I was worried sick after you've been gone for so long."

A weak smile formed on his lips. "We got them. Nasty ghouls took longer than expected." He shuffled closer, the weight of the hunt pulling at him. He could feel the warmth radiating from the room, a stark contrast to the bone-chilling night he'd endured.

You stood up and reached out, your hand brushing against his cheek. The touch, even through the grime, sent a jolt through him. It was a simple gesture, yet it held the power to ground him, to remind him of what he was fighting for—what he was going home to.

"You look like hell," you said, your voice laced with concern. "Go wash up, then I'll get you something to eat. There's a diner near here, open 24/7 apparently, Bobby told me on the phone earlier, bless his gruff soul."

He allowed himself to be ushered towards the bathroom, crumpling onto the tub with a groan. As the hot water washed away the grime and fatigue, something else started to wash over him. It was the weight of his unspoken feelings, a truth he could no longer keep buried.

He emerged from the bathroom, a fresh towel wrapped around his hair. You were already by the table, a steaming cup of coffee and grub waiting for him. He caught your gaze, the way your eyes held a warmth that chased away the chills of the hunt.

"Listen," Sam began, his voice thick with emotion. You tilted your head in confusion as to what he was trying to say. "This life… it's not easy. It's dangerous, messy, and frankly, it terrifies me sometimes."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "But then I come back here, see you… and suddenly, facing it all over again, well, it doesn't seem so bad. It feels… bearable."

A blush crept up your neck, mirroring the heat rising in his own. You opened your mouth to speak, but he pressed on.

"I know this is crazy," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But, I can't keep it in anymore. I… I care about you. A lot more than a friend."

The silence stretched, heavy with anticipation. He braced himself for a rejection, the fear of a cold fist squeezing his heart. Then, you reached out, your hand gently cupping his cheek.

"Sam," you said, your voice soft, "you're not the only one who feels that way."

Relief flooded him, warm and exhilarating. A hesitant smile spread across his face. "Really?"

You nodded, your eyes sparkling. "For a long time, actually."

He leaned in, the space between them collapsing in a rush. The kiss was soft, a tentative exploration of your unspoken feelings toward each other. But within it, there was a spark, a promise of something deeper. He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, a newfound warmth radiating from within.

"So," he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips, "does this mean I get to keep bothering you for a while longer?"

You chuckled, a sound that filled the room with a melody of hope. "Looks like you're stuck with me, Winchester. Now, about that coffee…"

He pulled you close, the scent of coffee and the lingering warmth from the confession clinging to the air.  

Yes, in the face of whatever darkness awaited, this peaceful moment with Sam was a treasure. You leaned in, brushing a kiss against his cheek, a silent promise whispered against his lips, "I'll wake you soon, pretty boy."

The sunlight, bolder now, sliced through the gap in the curtains, landing right on Sam's eyelids. He let out a soft groan, sleep fading as he blinked the light away. Unlike you, mornings weren't exactly his best friend. For a moment, his eyes fluttered closed again, then snapped open, a glimmer of surprise crossing his face when he realized you weren't there.

"Morning, baby," he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. He reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against the empty space where you'd been. A frown tugged at his lips for a brief moment before it softened into a smile as he spotted you by the window.

You were turned away from him, busy reading a paperback. The rising sun cast an ethereal glow around you, highlighting the way your hair seemed to catch fire with golden light. A shiver danced down Sam's spine, a mix of the cool morning air and the unexpected sight before him.

"Hey there, Sleepyhead," you said over your shoulder, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back to face him. "You look like you could use some more shut-eye."

He stretched languidly, the movement sending a groan escaping his lips. "Nah, I'm good. Just gotta get the lead out before Bobby gets impatient." He winced slightly, a reminder of the recent hunt probably still clinging to his muscles.

A playful glint lit up your eyes. "Lead out, huh? Sounds fancy. Did you polish your shoes too, Mr. Winchester?"

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a warmth radiating through you. "Only the finest demon-blood repellent for this hunter, sweetheart." He reached for you, his hand warm and strong as he pulled you close, grinning at how easily he could make you laugh with his comebacks.

As you snuggled into his embrace, a comfortable silence settled between you. However, a shadow lingered in the back of your mind. The thought of Bobby calling usually meant trouble brewing. You decided to break the comfortable silence.

"Any whispers about what Bobby wants this time?" you asked, your voice soft.

Sam shook his head, his expression turning serious. "Not a peep. Knowing Bobby, it'll involve something nasty, a whole lot of rotgut, and probably a cryptic message scribbled on some random book." He paused, his gaze softening on you.

"But whatever it is," he continued, his voice low and reassuring, "we'll face it together. Like always."

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his cheek. "Always," you whispered the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air—together, no matter what the coming day brought.

[arjwrites]

Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer- Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: While hunting with the Winchesters, you had picked up a disposable camera to capture some memories. Each photo represented an important point in your collective journey- all the while, hinting at a budding connection behind the scenes.  Warnings: None! Largely gn, but reader is occasionally referred to as "she." Slight language here and there, mostly just silly fluff! A/N: Another idea of mine that has been kicking around for a while. I hope the Sam crew appreciates this! <3

“Alright boys, hold up those shovels!!” You were perched on top of a neighboring gravestone, disposable camera held close to your face.

“You’re kidding, right? We are literally desecrating a grave, and you’re snapping pictures? This could be used as evidence one day!” Of course Sam was throwing sass. He could never just sit there and look pretty for you.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta preserve this stuff for posterity! Sam and Dean Winchester, in their natural habitat!” you laughed. 

Dean, in sharp contrast to his brother’s protests, instantly struck a pose, slinging the shovel over one shoulder and gazing dramatically to the horizon like an action hero. Huffing, realizing he was outnumbered on this matter, Sam limply lifted the shovel in one hand, popped a thumbs-up with the other hand, and slapped a forced, sarcastic smile on his face.

“Perfect! Now they’ll also get to witness each of your unique brands of bullshit!” 

Sam crossed his arms in a (slightly) feigned offense, looking to Dean for backup. Dean simply shrugged- “I mean, she’s got us there. That’s pretty much our bullshit in a nutshell.” 

Sam fought hard to stifle the smile that was working its way to the surface. She knew them too well. 

–

“What are you looking at?” Your voice broke the silence that had been dragging on for longer than you even remembered. The question had came out a little sassy, which you didn’t intend, but you were feeling a little defensive. There was no way Sam was staring at you for any good reason. You were nested against the arm of one of the motel couches, piled high in lore books, researching while sporting an unbrushed head of hair and last night’s pajamas. It was noon. Not your best look. 

“Nothing, nothing. Sorry.” He held your gaze just a moment longer before returning to his work, smiling down into his laptop. You hummed, satisfied, until you felt his eyes peek back up at you. 

“Hey, take a picture, Winchester! It’ll last longer!” You laughed, hiding your hint of insecurity with a bit of sass. It was a joke- completely a joke, and you thought Sam had taken it as such, until…

“You know what? You’re right. Don’t move a muscle.” Sam held his hands out as if to freeze you in your current position, turning on the dramatics as he backed away slowly before spinning on his heels to run to your side of the room.   

“Sam-”

“I said don’t move!” He taunted over his shoulder. 

You heard Sam rustling through your bag, but you didn’t dare turn to look- you figured you’d humor him and comply with the ridiculous request. Sam returned to his perch on the couch across from you, a grin adorning his face and the camera looking comically small in his large hand. He cranked the dial, lined it up with his right eye, and called out- “Say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeese!” You laughed, bathing in the blinding brightness- both from the camera’s flash and Sam’s mile-wide smile. If only the photo had been captured from your point of view- you could stare at that face forever. 

–

“Alright everyone, gather around!” Dinner was finished, the dishes were done, a fresh round of beers were cracked. What better time for you to call for a little family photo?

“Here we go again with the paparazzi,” Bobby gruffed, ruffling your hair as he passed you. 

“Excuse me, it’s called being the family historian. We need to record this touching memory!” 

“Alright alright, get over here, everyone,” scolded Sam with a lighthearted tone. Having him on your side was helpful- his long arms corralled the whole crew with ease, gathering everyone in front of the couch. You smiled a silent thank you, and he winked at you in return, sending your heart aflutter. 

While the team of men behind you figured out the ideal photo formation amongst themselves, you prepped the camera, winding the dial and propping it up on the tv stand while making sure to get the angle just right. After this there would only be one picture left on the camera- you had to make sure to save it for something really good. 

Dean stood behind the couch, arms draped over the shoulders of Bobby to his left and Cas to his right. While Dean was already cheesing, Bobby and Cas weren’t quite as natural in front of the camera- it was taking them a second to settle in. Sam, however, was sat down on the couch, arms outstretched to beckon you in. Eager to get the picture taken, you clicked the button to trigger the countdown.

“Alright, we’ve got ten seconds everyone!” You raced over to plop yourself down next to Sam, who almost instictively wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in as close as possible. You tensed a bit, nerves on fire due to your intimate proximity to him, but your face beamed with joy. In the last few seconds before the photo snapped, Sam pressed a sneaky, soft kiss to the side of your head, returning to his former pose just before the final flash went off. Though you were able to calm your bugging eyes in the nick of time, there was little you could to stop the searing heat that flushed to your cheeks. God, you hoped that wouldn’t show up in the picture.

–

It had been a few months since any of you had so much as thought about that camera. Life had gotten a bit busy, to say the least. The end of the world had brought with it plenty of trials and tribulations, and left very little time for photo ops. That being said, you had finally reached a long awaited moment of peace. Things had died down, and there was a brief moment for you and the Winchesters to catch your breath and lay low for a bit. 

It was well past midnight, and a quiet had fallen over the bunker- not the usual tense, fearful, impending-doom type of quiet. This was much more peaceful. Typically, at this hour of the night, the three of you would still be up researching or figuring out plans for your next move. Tonight, however, Dean had been able to hole himself up in his room for a while, trying to get some kind of sleep, which wasn’t usually an option for him. After dozing off and on unsuccessfully for a few hours, he emerged from his room, in search of something he knew would help knock him right out- a snack. 

Drudging down the hall, Dean was drawn away from his intended destination after noticing the blue glow and soft buzz still emitting from the television. Thinking Sam had left it on before heading to bed, Dean rerouted his path in order to switch it off, mumbling to himself that this was not his job. His frustration remained up until he was able to fully take in the scene in front of him. There on the couch lay you and Sam, fast asleep. Sam’s massive frame dwarfed yours as he held you from behind, face firmly planted in your hair. One of your arms curved in front of you to wrap itself around Sam’s, and the other flopped off the couch, the TV remote dangling loosely in your grasp. Dean felt far too sappy even thinking it, but he could’ve sworn he had never seen either of you two so peaceful. 

After smiling down on the two of you for a few seconds shy of creepy, Dean had a realization. He tiptoed out, careful not to disturb you two, and beelined for a little something he had recently discovered, stashed in a junk drawer. The disposable camera, long forgotten, with only the space for one serendipitous photo remaining. “Finally, you two,” Dean whispered, punctuating his sentence with the quiet click of the camera. He’d been betting on this for months, and now, you and Sam could never live it down.

[angelsdean]

the winchester sons + sports: It's about how sports --often baseball in particular-- represent normal. The first thing John says to Dean is if Sam is ready to toss a ball around. Then we see the sports-themed mobile above Sam's crib, specifically featuring baseball objects. John tries to entice Dean to talk and be "normal" again post-Mary with a baseball. Bobby forgoes hunting practice to just play catch with Dean and let him be a normal kid. Twelve year old dean considers joining the baseball team when they finally stick around somewhere for a longer stretch of time. But there are no trophies in John's storage locker from Dean's baseball games. We wonder if he ever joined the team at all. What Dean does find from when he was twelve is his first sawed-off. What represents dean's childhood? a gun. Dean kills someone for the first time when he is twelve. When Adam is twelve John starts visiting him and taking him to baseball games. When Sam is twelve he is on the soccer team. That same year, 1995, Dean is abandoned by John and experiences being a normal kid. He wins the state wrestling championship. Sonny proudly displays the award on his wall nearly two decades later.

[ 1x01, John's Journal, 3x03, 7x10, spn wiki, 4x19, 3x03 outline, 9x07 ]

[scoobydoodean]

so the mind wipe was a bad move in context, i think most people will agree with that (i agree with you that it was the worst thing dean did). but beyond that, it barely even makes sense logistically unless you extrapolate that cas removed every piece of evidence of dean from their lives, phones, house, and friends’/neighbors’ memories… so how do you think they should’ve handled lisa and ben’s exit?

Setting aside how unfeasible it seems to truly erase Dean from their lives, it also just doesn't make sense to me because I don't understand how or why that would ever stop people from using them to hurt Dean. Like I guess they make it in the show as if it did in fact work (and it's better than the alternative the show likely would have come up with of killing them off) but why on earth would someone like Crowley for example not use Lisa and Ben still to hurt Dean just because they don't remember him??? They don't have to remember him for them to be used against him??

Like from Dean's perspective though, I think it was was about erasing the "poison". Like he felt he was this monster whose presence had ruined their lives irreparably, and by erasing himself from their lives as if he never existed, he could erase the "ruinous" impact he had on them. I think one of the biggest catalysts for this is ultimately having to put a gun in Ben's hand. When Ben expressed interest in Dean's gun collection in 6.02, Dean swore that Ben would never shoot a gun. Dean appears to have a lot of trauma tied up in his childhood experience with firearms. Lots of American kids grow up shooting, but for sport at targets and usually starting with BB guns. Dean was taken shooting (presumably real guns) for the first time when he was "six or seven" years old (2.06) and when he was taken to do that, he knew he was being trained to become a killer—to hunt monsters and to defend his brother—and John was proud. Dean repeats the story to Jo fondly (because what Jo wanted was a fond story—and Dean really struggles to deliver one because of what he's going through at the time), but there's something melancholic too, and this moment in 6.02 puts that in context, as does 3.10 where Dean expresses all the pent up hurt he feels at being treated as a solider and a weapon by his father, as does 1.18 where Dean is no older than 10 and left alone with Sam for days with a shotgun to defend them both. There's fear that has to be buried there and experiences with violence or the threat of it that Dean simply wasn't psychologically equipped to deal with. Most(arguably all) adults aren't equipped to handle that kind of stress and he was a child. So having to put a gun in Ben's hand so he could aid in defending his own mother was the greatest betrayal toward Ben's right to be a child that Dean could imagine and he HAD to erase it because he couldn't deal with the idea of Ben holding onto even a tenth of the childhood trauma that Dean has.

At the same time, Dean is so caught up in self-hatred and the idea of himself as a ruinous force that he loses track of boundaries and that it isn't his right to decide. And one of the repeated things echoed by Lisa and Ben that Dean never really allows himself to absorb is that they truly loved him and they didn't want to trade the experience of loving him despite the hardships. Lisa was very clear about this in 6.01 and 6.02, and so was Ben in 6.14 (though I don't think he understands all the dynamics in play no matter how much he insists he did).

I don't have a real opinion on anything that should have been done instead. It isn't something I would change just because I don't think Dean made a morally right choice but it is true that it doesn’t make much logical sense. From a practical safety perspective, I think it would have made more sense and been pretty interesting if Dean erased his own memories of them. This would still be in theme with Sam's wall and Cas's secrets and Bobby and Sam hiding Sam being alive and how we hide things to protect ourselves or others (and isn't all the talk from Cas and Death about protecting Sam from his own traumatic memories also probably an influence on Dean's decision to erase himself from Lisa and Ben's reality?). But I think ultimately, Dean wouldn't erase his memory because he would see carrying that experience with him as a "lesson" with scars he needed to bear so he'd never let that desire for a home cloud his judgement ever again and ruin someone's "normal" life.

[artyandink]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

A/N 2 - Chapter’s kinda short, sorry guys 😬 I’ve been ill nonstop, and that sapped my creative juice

Warnings: Blood, gore, alcohol, chaotic group chat, angst, some fluff, Charlie being Charlie, mentions of abuse, Benny isn’t a vampire, Ruby and Meg aren’t demons, everyone got an out from hunting and the Apocalypse, Azazel doesn’t come after the Winchesters

SERIES MASTERLIST

three - french 75

You and Dean were working the bar the following Tuesday with Bela and Benny, a surprisingly chaotic duo while, as usual, the rest of the gang lived it up in a booth nearby.

After the Roadhouse closed up, all of you agreed on what you knew would be a chaotic night of strip poker, almost guaranteed highlights being Ruby’s victory gorilla grunt, Jo throwing her cards down when she lost and Bela’s painfully obvious ‘poker face’ which consisted of her smirk that was strained with poorly restrained giggles.

It was tradition, really.

“Is this place looking for vacancies?” There was a redhead at the bar, her locks cropped to her chin and she sported an eager expression. “If not, that’s ok. I need a way to make some extra cash.”

“And you are?” You asked with a broad smile, pouring a glass of whiskey for a patron.

“Charlie. Bradbury.” She replied with an equally as wide smile. You already took to her well; she seemed like another lost soul who needed a family, but someone you could easily warm up to.

“Ok, Charlie Bradbury. Behind the counter.” You let her in, starting to show her the way in, out, up, down and around the drinks lined behind the counter, showing her the baseball bat in case she needed to ever, y’know, start swinging.

Charlie seemed like a go-getter, already prepared to start flipping bottles and mixing the drinks like nobody’s business.

“This place is cool.” She grinned widely, and you gave her a warm smile and pat on the back as you handed her over to Benny, who took the reins while you and Dean dissolved back into giggles.

Dean nudged you, nodding to Ellen, who looked a lot happier than usual. “Y’know, I think we did Ellen and ol’ boy Bobby a solid. They both seem more like cheery old souls rather than just… old souls.”

“Jo said she actually saw Ellen blushing. Blushing.” You nudged him back. “We play good matchmakers, no?”

“Damn right. We just have to choose our next victims.”

You and Benny were clearing up the bar after closing, the low rumble of your chatter being the only available ambience. The door opened, and without looking up, you and Benny said the exact same thing.

“We’re closed.” You both chorused, but an exhilarated gasp came from whoever walked in, and as your heads looked up, both of your veins turned to straight ice. A woman with flowing, perfectly coiffed brown hair, creamy olive skin and doe eyes was standing there, dressed in white with a longing expression.

You and Benny shared a look, instantly standing closer to one another as you swallowed thickly on a dry throat, the feeling stinging and scratchy. “Andrea.” You whispered, setting the broom against a table while Benny’s eyes misted over with nostalgia and barely restrained heartbreak.

Andrea Kormos. Benny’s ex girlfriend.

“Dre.” Benny breathed, his hand gripping your forearm protectively, putting himself in front of you while your hand discreetly reached for underneath the counter for the concealed weapon, holding off a panic attack as the sight of Andrea brought back unwanted memories. “What are you doing here?”

“My love.” She took a step forward, making Benny fully shield you with his body. “I’ve searched for so long.”

“Why are you here?”

“To bring you back.” Andrea insisted, tilting her head and gazing at Benny as if she was obsessed. “Our family misses you. My father misses you.”

“Tell him to go to hell.” Benny growled, your hand closing around the weapon amid rasping breaths that got shorter each time, heart pounding in your parched throat. Your thoughts drifted to the scars on your neck, the ones that you desperately hid with a good coverage foundation.

Blood draining out of you, your limbs going limp as the thick fluid dropped onto the floor, hungry tongues licking up every inch…

That didn’t help in the slightest.

“I have to bring you in by force if necessary.” She announced, her head held high. “You knew what you got into once you came to our house.”

“I didn’t.” Benny shook his head determinedly. “You said you were just taking me to meet your father. And I find this poor thing in a side room!” His finger pointing at you, blind fury on his face. “I didn’t know what the hell I was getting into.”

“Force it is.” She muttered before teeth, sharp, hooked teeth emerged as she snarled and charged for Benny. Amid gasping breaths, a pounding head and constricted lungs, you yanked a machete out of its holster and swung your dominant arm.

Andrea’s head made a dull thud as it hit the floor, even more so when her body did the same, and before you could collapse against the counter and start sobbing until your voice went hoarse you were drawn into Benny’s arms as he patted your hair, chin on your head as he shushed you. “You’re safe, sweet.” He murmured in a strained voice, torn because who he once thought his love was now lying on the floor.

A piece of his heart might have gone with her.

“Listen to my heartbeat, angel.” He told you, and the thump of his heartbeat filled your ear as you desperately timed your rasping breath with the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Attagirl. Doing so well, sister. I promised you they’d never hurt you again. Didn’t I? And you handled yourself so well. So damn well.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

You repeated that pattern until your head cleared, and you gave Benny a thank you squeeze. He held you for a few more moments before wordlessly sitting you down, getting you a tall, cool glass of water.

Normally, you’d find pin drop silence uncomfortable.

Now you welcomed the change.

The icy liquid seemed to calm your nerves as you gulped it down, Benny’s calloused hand smoothing your hair back an anchor made of the strongest material your brain could think up when it wasn’t all muddled up.

Your lungs gradually releasing the grip it had on your oxygen supply.

“You sit there, sweet.” Benny murmured with a kiss to your crown. “I’ll clear all this up. Like it never happened.”

Your parents had a baby before they were turned into vampires. That baby was you, but they decided to do something else with you.

They made you a lure.

Raised you to coax people into being fed on, and when crop yield was low, you were their supply. That was until Benny got lured into the nest by Andrea, found you and fought like hell to get you both out.

You both stumbled into the Roadhouse, covered in dust, grime and blood, but found a home for life.

You owed your life to Benny, but he insisted that he did the bare minimum and refused any attempt where you tried to repay your internalised debt, and through that you both found an older brother and younger sister figure to rely on.

But only the gang sans Dean and Charlie knew. You’d rather Dean not know where you really came from. He was too innocent for that.

You thought of him, with his million dollar grin, billion dollar flashing eyes and trillion dollar words. If you had to put a tag for his worth on him, he’d be, well, priceless.

A gentleman towards you, a grade A flirt (which you didn’t mind as he lobbed compliment after compliment your way) and he looked at you like you were the only girl in the room. And he never failed to make your heart flutter when he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you were working and it obstructed your vision.

You didn’t know why he’d suddenly reach out to take whatever task you were doing and do it himself. All you knew was that it was only a matter of a few weeks and you were already down bad.

Down bad for Dean Goddamn Winchester.

No. No, you couldn’t be. He was too good for you. Even if all those thoughts flew out of your head the moment he called you ‘sweetheart’.

Sweetheart. You hated that name but loved it at the same time. You hated it because it dragged you deeper into the rabbit hole that was Dean and you knew there was no way out. You loved it because the feeling was like a gulp of whiskey after months of not touching it.

Intoxicating.

bDe: who’s managing shift this weekend

charlie weasley: I am!!!

ScarJo: I’m free to manage shift

Queen B: That’s good, cause me, Ruby, Meg are going on a girls trip

You: Where’s my invite hmmmmm

Ruby-gina George: Fine, you can come

You: YAY

Megolodon: There’s gonna be lots of booze

ScarJo: Kind of regret taking shift now

Ben Dover: Too late, darling, you’re stuck behind the counter

ScarJo: I hate you

You: LET’S GET DRUNK

Queen B: THAT’S THE SPIRIT

Casanova: I’m guessing that you’ll need someone to pick you up.

Megolodon: That’s right, Cassie baby

Casanova: I’ll wait for your call, then.

bDe: a gentleman at his finest, yall

Ruby wondered whether she was ill or something. On a grocery run, she found herself tempted to buy women’s swimsuit magazines because the ladies looked pretty. And another day, she found her heart practically somersaulting when she saw Meg’s lips close around a straw as she drank a vodka and soda.

Goddamn.

Now, Charlie was a newbie, but she’d been open about how she was, y’know, batting for the other team. She liked girls. And that meant that Ruby could ask her for advice. And Jo, because Jo was the classic glue of the group and somehow had advice for every damn thing under the sun.

“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”

Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.

Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.

Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.

“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”

“Liked girls?” Charlie finished the sentence with a wide grin. “Don’t worry, takes one to know one. Clocked you the moment I saw you.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ruby drawled, but Jo covered her hand reassuringly.

“We are really proud of you.” She grinned. “No joke there.”

In the meantime, Dean had ducked out to take a call. You saw him through the window, a frown on that gorgeous face. Then it morphed to a rather docile one as he mouthed ‘sorry, sir’, which got you thinking. Who the hell was he talking to?

“I don’t wanna come back, sir.” Dean muttered dejectedly, but heard John’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Ain’t your choice to make, son. You’re gonna come back and keep hunting. With your brother gone-’

“Sammy’s out. I should get one too.”

‘You’re a born hunter. You’ll stay that way.’ John’s voice half inclined Dean to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

Hell, he itched to, with how messed up and crappy he was, he ached to.

Then he saw you come out of the bar, brow furrowed in the sudden sunlight. His new home. The one he felt tentative, but safe in. Not like everything was an urge he needed to fight. With you, he just gave in.

And so he gave an exhilarated smile, cut the call and acted as if everything was ok.

Because it was.

You were around.

Sam was nervous. He was at a restaurant with Jessica, wearing his best suit and adjusting his tie, while she looked stunning, in a blue, floor-length dress that brought out her eyes and her beautiful features. The warm lights flickered in the ambience while Sam ordered a round of champagne just as Jess came back from the bathroom, quickly slipping something to the waiter.

“This is a very rare date night.” Jess quipped, her manicured hands (she went for an emergency nail appointment) resting over one another as she gave Sam a knowing look.

He gave her a light scoff and a defensive look. “Hey, hey, I take you on dates all the time-”

“I’m kidding!” She giggled, waving him off before resting her head on her palm. “This is just fancier than usual. It’s a change from our coffee dates. Don’t get me wrong, I love those too, it just makes me think there’s a special occasion.”

That was his cue.

He signalled to the waiters, who brought out Jess’ favourite champagne. She delicately sipped as they talked, of Stanford, how Sam was doing and their chosen courses.

When a small metal thing hit her lips.

She gasped softly as she took it out, seeing a shiny diamond ring and then Sam on one knee, taking her hand and kissing the knuckle.

“Jessica Elizabeth Moore, will you marry me?”

TAGLIST:

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[ghoastixx]

What about Castiel with a kid who’s constantly climbing things? Like when he needs them and can’t find them the first place he has to look is the rafters or the roof because they’re always climbing something?

Castiel w/ an an active kid!reader

synopsis above

notes: OH MY GOD!! I saw this when it came in last week and got so excited I literally love this. (I may or may not favor castiel) This is such a cute request that I'd be more than happy to fulfill!

Author's notes: Reader is gender neutral and there is no specific age but its probably 7-16. For the sake of plot, reader is a Winchester.

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

You had always been a little clingy when it came to your brothers. When they introduced you to Castiel, he instantly became included in your clinginess.

As Castiel started to spend more time on earth and more time around humans, when he was starting to become less stern and cold, he started to take more of a notice to your behaviors. You were quite active.

That was good of course! Children should be active, after all. Especially with a life like yours, constantly on the road and in and out of schools.. sports never an option.. hiking be dangerous.

He found this out when you two went on a walk to the local park in the town the Winchester's were hunting at. They had asked Castiel to assist you on your journey out.

"Aw, sick! A jungle gym!" Was all the angel had clocked before you ran off towards the play park. He watched in strange fascination as you quickly made your way to the top of it, perching in a way that was reminiscent of a bird to him. He sat down on the bench and watched you.

He watched as you made your way on top of some monkey bars, climbing rock structures, to the top of slides and tunnels. He had never seen a human do something like this. Just climb.

So he started to pay more attention.

He began to notice how you would climb onto the top of Dean's impala if you were all waiting around outside, sitting down on it to wait. How (If you were old enough for hunts) you'd always take the higher up places, checking attics or little crawl spaces in the ceilings. How whenever you went to Bobby's, you'd just disappear in the rafters of his attic. Crawling around as if you were a spider.

Dean walked into the kitchen. Sam and Bobby were sitting at the table, Castiel glancing out the window. "Where's Y/N?" Dean spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Attic," Cas said before anyone else could answer.

"Why would they be in the attic," Sam cut in,

"They're climbing the rafters. They are feeling restless." The stoic angel's gaze never wavered from the window.

"Well, can you go get them, I'll take them outside to run around or something."

"They are not an animal," Castiel grumbled before going to retrieve you.

He ducked into the attic, brushing some dust away, "Y/N,"

Undisturbed and unalarmed, your head peeks down from the rafters, a smile on your face, "Cas!"

He smiled, ushering you down. "Come on, time to get down, you're needed downstairs."

As you leapt down, you looked at the angel. "How did you know I was up here?"

Castiel smiled a bit, "I pay attention."

[purrassicjet]

When Bobby Dawn was driving away I could only imagine Sandra Lynn and Baxter hunting him for sport for a little. Every now and then he thinks he's escaped and another arrow thunks into his van. They just bother him until he's out of Elmville

[bitchface24-7]

We know the Winchester Brothers Obsess over one another, it’s canon and blatant text within Supernatural.

Here’s a little blurb I came up with cause I can’t sleep and it’s 2:10 in the morning :)

——————

Sam loves his big brother. It’s a given. After everything they’ve been through it’d be unfathomable for them not to love each other.

But Sam can’t stand the fact Dean doesn’t seem to love him as much as Sam loves him. Sam knows Dean loves him, would do anything for him. But it seems like Dean’s avoiding him.

He’s going to bars more often and hooking up with the first girl he sees. There’s been too many times Sam had to leave their shitty motel room cause Dean wanted to get his dick wet. It’s frustrating, it’s embarrassing. The only thing that weirdly enough makes it better is the fact Dean is constantly wearing his amulet Sam gifted him all those years ago.

Those girls may be there for the moment, but Sam is Dean’s for life.

Sam thinks Dean doesn’t love him as much as he loves Dean. He’s proven wrong on one of their hunts though.

By a Siren.

——————

“I gave him what he needed. And it wasn’t some bitch in a g-string. It was you, his little brother.” The siren taunts as Dean holds Sam, his sharp knife digging into Sam’s throat. Sam damn near blacks out at that. A demon known to take on its victims sexual fantasies; and Dean’s is Sam?

The confrontation goes rapidly with Bobby coming in and saving their asses. Stabbing Dean in the shoulder and the demon in the back.

Sam doesn’t know what to think, he doesn’t know what to say. So he keeps quiet. The pleading look on Dean’s face help him make that choice as well.

——————

“What did he mean?” Sam questions out of the blue one day, months after that fateful hunt.

Dean looks over to Sam in confusion from the motels couch, “Who Sammy, Darren? The waiter from the diner? It was an innuendo that meant butt se—“ before Dean can finish his taunt, Sam cuts him off with an eye roll, “No Dean, not Darren. I know what he meant. I meant the siren from a few months ago.”

At the mention of that hunt, Dean shuts down. His expression flattens and he somehow metaphysically pulls away from Sam. Sam can’t get a read on him; and he hasn’t been able to do that since he was a baby.

“Nothin’ Sammy. It means nothing.” Dean mutters as he takes a long swig from his beer, the sports game playing on the TV now Deans main focus.

Sam scoffs at that lame ass excuse, “Bullshit. It means something and I think I have the right to know what that is.”

“The hell you do! You don’t need to know everything you fucking snoop, leave it be!” Dean’s voice raises as his jaw clenches. Sam raises an eyebrow at his brothers aggressive reaction. He’ll get Dean to crack, one way or the other.

Sam decides to taunt Dean. With an over-exaggerated flip of his hair, Sam quotes the siren, “I gave him what he needed. And it wasn’t some bitch in a g-string. It was you, his little brother.” Sam says in a fake saccharine tone. Batting his eyelashes at his older brother before getting serious.

“Dean, Siren’s take on their victims greatest sexual fantasy. Their celebrity crush, the one that got away, the server from your favourite restaurant. All that shit. But yours was… me. Why?”

Dean purses his lips and takes an even bigger sip of his bear, wetting his lips as a drop trails down his neck. Dean wipes it away when the back of his hand with a morose sigh. Sam quickly averts his eyes from that gesture.

“You just answered your own damn question Sammy.”

Sam gapes, “I’m your biggest sexual fantasy? How, why?”

Dean rolls his eyes at his brothers shock, “I don’t even know where to begin Sammy. I’ve always loved you. I’m not sure when the wires got all tangled and fucked up but it happened. I guess being the main one to take care of you really messed everything up, huh?”

Sam wants to cry a bit. It does make sense, Dean is everything to him. His mother, his father, his brother, and his best friend. All they’ve known all their lives is each other. They’re each other’s greatest weakness.

“If it’s any consolidation Dean, my siren looked like you too.” Sam quietly states as he gets up from his laptop and moves to sit next to Dean. Stealing the beer from his limp hand and taking a massive swig. Deans eyes and lips part minutely.

“You… wait— what?” Dean questions, his words barely escaping his lips. Sam just smiles and kisses his brothers cheek; as close to his mouth as he can, before shuffling around and getting comfortable. Leaning into Dean’s side he makes himself small to cuddle up to Dean. “So… who’s winning?”

Dean just huffs a laugh at the blatant change of subject, steals back his beer and continues to watch the game, “Look at the top left corner. It tells you.” Sam rolls his eyes, “You know I’m not a big sports person. I don’t know the team names from just a few letters!” The two continue to bicker, as if nothings changed.

In all honesty, it really hasn’t. Their unspoken bond has finally been brought to the light.

[dollieguts1010]

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH HEADCANONS

• She's 12 years old

• She's Pansexual and a Demi-girl

• She goes by any pronouns

She has ADHD and Anger Issues

• Her full name is Hoppy Jade Hopscotch

• Her birthday is March 30th

• She's a mixed breed of Rex and Cotton tail rabbit

• Her best friends are KickinChicken, Bobby Bearhug, and Picky Piggy

• She's in love with Kickin

• She's known Kickin for over 6 years

• Craftycorn is like a sister to her

• She likes watching anime with Crafty

• Her lightning bolt necklace was gifted to her by Dogday

• She has a giant pansexual flag hanging in her room

• Her favorite genre of music is Hip-Hop

• She likes astrology

• She wanted to be a astronaut when she was younger

• Her biggest goal is to go to the Moon

• She was born with a special ability to jump and run 5x higher and faster than the average bunny

• She has a good relationship with her parents

• She is a tomboy however, every once in awhile she likes to doll up and be all girly with the ladies

• She SUCKS at putting on makeup cuz every time she does she ends up looking like a clown so, she usually has to end up getting either Bobby or Crafty to do it for her

• Loves to gossip with the ladies and Kickin

• She likes fireworks

• Has lots of karaoke nights with her friends

• She likes cherry and raspberry slushies, soda, and energy drinks

• She hates carrots

• She likes sour candy

• She love spicy food

• She's the shortest in the group. Kickin loves teasing Hoppy for how short she is (even though he's the shortest boy in the group 💀)

• She has no clue what patience is

• Her and Kickin share the same braincell

• She's very competitive at sports (she always beats Kickin)

• She's the best player on the field

• Is a pro at skating

• She's a daredevil, who will do any dare you tell her to do, no matter how dangerous or stupid it is

• Her and Kickin love to get under Bubba's skin

• She likes mudwrestling with Picky and Kickin

• Her and Kickin have a workout routine

• In the morning she'll often go out for a quick mooring jog

• She's often loud without realizing it so, sometimes someone has to remind her to keep her voice down

• She HATES losing. When she does lose, she'll just walk away in rage

• Crafty gifted her a stress ball for when she's mad

• When she's mad she'll squeeze the LIFE out of her stress ball

• She has a big potty mouth and if she gets hurt, she'll be cussing up a storm

• DO NOT let her cook, she will burn the food (she's not allowed to touch anything in the kitchen)

• She's a pro at parkour

• She's a pro at Gymnastics and Karate

• She often calls Bubba "nerd or brainiac"

• She often calls Kickin "Kicks" or "KC"

• She loves pulling harmless pranks with Kickin (they won't ever prank Crafty tho)

• Energetic 24/7

• She doesn't like admitting when she's scared

• Her nose twitches when she's scared

• Her favorite food is nacho fries

• She's always found Catnap really creepy (she can always feel him staring her down without even looking at him)

• 90% she always accidentally wakes Catnap up from his naps

• When she's annoyed, she pulls on her ears and she will stomp her foot aggressively

• When she's shocked, her ears spring up

• When she's sad her ears become droopy

• Don't play tag with her. Unless you want to get hunted down...

• She loves horror movies

• She will NEVER admit to her friends that she's in love with Kickin

• Her and Kickin have a secret handshake

• Her and Bobby have a secret language

• She likes stargazing with Kickin

• She's been in love with Kickin for 4 years

• Bobby eventually found out that Hoppy has feelings for Kickin by mistake (Bobby lost her mind when she found out)

• Bobby won't stop bothering Hoppy with questions like " WHEN DID YOU REALIZE YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH HIM?!" "ARE YOU GOING TO TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL!?" "WHEN WILL YOU GUYS START DATING?!" "WHEN IS HE GOING TO PROPOSE?!" "WHEN'S THE WEDDING?!" "WHEN ARE YOU GUYS GOING TO HAVE CHILDREN?!" Meanwhile Hoppy is like "BRO CHILL OUT! I JUST HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM!"

(Bobby practically blew Hoppy's ears out while asking these questions)

• Hoppy was literally BEGGING Bobby to keep it a secret, Bobby promise she wouldn't tell anyone (she told Crafty and Picky)

• Bobby and Crafty were literally making Kickin x Hoppy fanart/fanfics

• She likes it when Kickin heals her wounds after a long day of playing outside

• She owes 6 different kinds of rollerblades and 4 different kinds of skateboards

• Kickin accidentally broke her leg while playing soccer (she didn't speak to him for 2 weeks after that incident)

(somebody pls understand the reference...)

• She plays the electric guitar

• She has a mini gym in the corner of her bedroom

• Has lots of karaoke nights with her friends

• Sometimes saids the wrong thing at the wrong time

That's all for now!

*I will add more later*

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 13 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly) , PHYSICAL ABUSE (Not by Dean).

Word Count: 979

A/N: How we feeling about the chapter? As stated always, this story is cross posted to my Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️

Dean had barely pulled into the driveway when he noticed something was off. Julia's car was parked haphazardly, and her usually tidy yard looked like it had been neglected. It had been a week since he'd dropped her off after the Wendigo hunt, and she had gone completely silent—no texts, no calls. And that wasn't like Julia.

After cutting the engine, Dean headed up to her front door, already on edge. He knocked once, then twice, harder the second time, listening for any sign of movement inside. When the door finally creaked open, Julia stood there, looking pale and worn down, a shadow of the woman he'd been fighting monsters with just days ago.

But what hit Dean hardest was the black eye she was sporting. His jaw clenched, anger bubbling up in his chest instantly.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, stepping inside without being invited.

Julia closed the door behind him and leaned against it, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice hollow.

"Bullshit." Dean's voice was sharp, sharper than he intended, but he couldn't help it. He pointed at her bruised face. "That doesn't look like 'nothing,' Julia. Who did this?"

She sighed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if she could protect herself from the weight of his question. "It's not important."

"It sure as hell is," Dean growled, stepping closer. "If someone put their hands on you, they're gonna wish they hadn't."

Julia shook her head. "Dean, just drop it, okay? I've had enough for one week."

Dean's eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Something was seriously wrong, and he wasn't leaving until he got the full story.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Julia relented. "My mom passed away. Last week."

Dean blinked, taken aback. He hadn't known. "Jesus, Julia... I didn't know. I'm sorry."

She shook her head again, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah, well... I didn't go to the funeral. My dad's pissed about it. We had a little... altercation at her grave when I stopped by to pay my respects."

"Your dad did that to you?" Dean's voice was deadly calm, but the anger simmering beneath it was unmistakable.

Julia gave him a humorless laugh. "I guess I didn't expect anything else. He's always been that way—always ready to throw a punch when things don't go his way. This time was just... the last straw. I'm done with him. I'm done with all of them."

Dean could feel his blood boiling, his hands itching to hit something—or someone—but he forced himself to stay calm for her sake. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was softer now, the anger replaced with concern.

"Because it's not your problem," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "And because I didn't want to make it one."

Dean frowned, his anger fading, replaced with something deeper. "You're wrong about that, Julia. You're my... friend, and you don't have to go through this crap alone."

Julia exhaled shakily, and for the first time since he'd walked through the door, she seemed to let her guard down. "I've been going through it alone for most of my life, Dean. That's why I was always at Bobby's. Anytime my family got too much, I'd run to him. It was like... my safe place."

Dean's expression softened as the pieces started falling into place. "Bobby never mentioned that."

Obviously you idiot, you never even met her until a year after his death.

"He didn't know the full extent," she admitted. "I didn't want to burden him with all my baggage. I just... he taught me how to fight, how to shoot, how to stand up for myself. Gave me the tools I needed to get the hell out of that house and not look back."

Dean felt his throat tighten. He understood that. God, did he understand that. Bobby had been more than a mentor for him, too. "You weren't a burden, Julia. Bobby would've been proud of you for how strong you've become."

Julia swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just didn't want to let him down."

Dean stepped closer, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "You didn't. And you're not alone in this, okay? You've got me, and you've got Sam. We're your family now."

She nodded, the tension in her body easing just a little. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean's gaze lingered on her bruised face. "You sure you're okay?"

"I will be," she said, her voice steadier now. "I just... need to move on. I'm done with my dad, and I'm done letting that part of my life control me."

Dean's jaw flexed, but he didn't push it any further. "If he ever touches you again..."

"He won't," Julia said firmly. "Because I'm not giving him the chance."

Dean nodded, respecting her decision. But that didn't stop the anger that burned in his chest, knowing someone had hurt her like that. He wasn't sure if he was more mad at her father or the fact that she hadn't let him help sooner.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" Dean finally muttered, trying to lighten the mood. "But I'm glad you're okay."

Julia managed a small smile. "You're not exactly a walk in the park yourself, Winchester."

He chuckled, the tension between them easing just a little. But deep down, Dean knew that this wasn't something Julia would bounce back from easily. She was tough, but everyone had their breaking point.

As he turned to leave, Dean shot her one last look, his voice serious. "If you ever need anything... you know where to find me."

Julia nodded. "I do."

And for the first time, Dean felt like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand her a little more.

[acearcane]

@severalmoremutants and I have been cooking on a X-Men/DnD AU and ngl it's possessing my mind day and night, so here I come to yap about it :3

Right now it's just a bunch of headcanons and storyline concepts, but I do wanna piece it together into a longer canon and maybe write something up!

For starters, here's the O5: a band of inexperienced heroes brought together by a mysterious benefactor known only as "Professor X", who has tasked them with hunting down and subduing an old friend of his, the evil paladin called Magneto. (I don't have backstories for all of them yet, simply because I have favorites. Can you tell who I like best?)

Scott Summers/Cyclops - Human Fighter (subclass: Battle Master). An orphan who has fallen in with a band of criminals, Scott doesn't feel like much of a hero. Especially not with his curse, which keeps him from looking anyone in the eye without hurting them.

Jean Grey/Marvel Girl - High Half-Elf Sorcerer (subclass: Wild Magic Sorcerer). Backstory TBD

Robert "Bobby" Drake/Iceman - Human Sorcerer (subclass: Draconic Bloodline). When Bobby was born sporting the scales of his draconic ancestor, his father was less than pleased. Now, trapped in a home that doesn't accept him, Bobby has no way to vent these blossoming magical abilities of his.

Warren Worthington III/Angel - Aasimar Paladin (subclass: Oath of Glory). Hailing from a family of nobility, Warren has been on his own for a little bit now, a local hero to the lesser folks of Faerun.

Henry "Hank" McCoy/Beast - Bugbear Wizard (subclass: Order of Scribes). Backstory TBD

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🩸🩸🩸📚📚🔮🔮 i"m so nice

ILY ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Here we go!

48 sentences for 🦮:

---

This isn’t what he is supposed to be known for. 

He’s supposed to be a firefighter. 

Sam has a lot of instructions for him. They provide him with a binder, which he will admit is helpful. 

“The most important thing to remember is to hold her to consistent standards,” Sam says. “She’s a great dog, but she’s still a dog. If you let her get away with being naughty, or don’t keep up with her training, she’ll lose her edge and form bad habits. But if you’re having any issues or want a training session as a refresher, my number is in the binder. Don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Buck thinks he’ll probably be reaching out.

They leave Buck and Maddie standing with Cranberry out front of his Jeep, which has just been loaded with all her things. She has a fancy navy blue vest with white embroidered font. It’s meant to make her look like a member of the LAFD. She’ll match his uniform when he goes to work. 

Buck opens the trunk door of the Jeep. There’s a big, white, hard shelled crate taking up the majority of his trunk. A Ruffland Kennel. He’d picked it up yesterday at a sporting goods store. According to the fourteen collective hours he’s spent researching golden retriever ownership in the past three days alone, this is one of the better brands for crash-proofing. Buck has seen car accidents with dogs in the vehicle. It’s… Bad. And it’s not going to be Cranberry. 

“Do we lift her in?” Maddie asks, when Cranberry looks blankly at the Jeep’s trunk space. 

“Well, she’s an eighteen month old dog from a breed designed to clear farm fences on Scottish estate hunts, so I’m going to guess she can probably jump,” Buck replies. 

“Nerd,” Maddie fake coughs into her hand.

Buck opens the crate door and motions at it. 

“Okay, Cranberry. Uh… Get in?”

Cranberry blinks and wags her tail, but makes no move to jump into the crate.

“Maybe if it was a Scottish farm fence.” Maddie mumbles. 

Buck glowers at her. 

He pats the crate. “Cranberry, jump!”

Nothing. 

“Cranberry, up!”

She puts her front paws up on the open floor of the trunk and looks back at him.

“I don’t know what to do,” Buck whispers. 

“Lift her?” Maddie suggests. 

“Maddie, what’s the point of needing to lift her, if her whole purpose is lifting things for me?” 

Maddie sighs and shrugs.

“Cranberry, go in the crate.”

Her ears perk at that last word and she shifts her body, like she’s thinking about jumping. 

Buck pats the crate and tries again. “Crate,” he repeats.

She hops up into the trunk, walks through the open crate door, and flops onto the plastic floor of the crate. 

“Huh,” Maddie muses.

---

9 for 🩸:

---

Eddie waits overnight for Buck’s shift to be done. Then, like some sort of stalker, he follows him home. Wherever that may be. 

He tries to stay a car or two behind Buck as he drives, but Los Angeles traffic makes it a little awkward. Eddie finds himself resisting the urge to honk at idiot drivers more than once, not wanting to draw attention to himself. However, he doesn’t need to trail him for too long. Within a few minutes, it becomes pretty clear where Buck is headed. 

South Bedford Street. 

Presumably, right back to the house Sophia walked out of this morning.

---

6 for 📚:

---

But love doesn’t always mean the ability to restructure your life to best meet someone in the middle. And Ravi, who couldn’t thrive in the property management world like his father, who wouldn’t be shrewd and strategic and charming like his brother, who had a limited capacity for it all, never found them in the middle. Eventually, he’d had to retreat back to his own side. 

He dropped out of school and he picked a new path. One that led him to the fire academy. 

And despite his parents’ vocal support of him, their unending love, he knows they don’t understand.

---

6 for 🔮:

---

“Eddie and Hen?” Bobby guesses. 

“Them, yeah. But not just them.” Buck replies. “Chim and Ravi are having just as crap a time right now.”

[thislovintime]

June 1967.

“The Wolves meet The Monkees! This happy picture was taken in Los Angeles where Wolves are representing the city in the North American League and show them getting together with the world-famous group, who soon after left for a tour of Europe. Back (left to right): Graham Hawkins, John Holsgrove, [Peter] Tork, Mike Nesmith, [Micky] Dolenz, Davy Jones, Fred Davies, Dave Wagstaffe, Les Wilson, Phil Parkes, Gerry Taylor, Dave Woodfield, Derek Dougan, Ronnie Allen (Manager(, Peter Knowles, Mr. John Ireland (Chairman). Front: Ernie Hunt, Terry Wharton, Dave Burnside, Alun Evans, Pat Buckley, Bobby Thomson.” - Sports Argus, July 1, 1967

“In Manchester [Dave Wagstaffe] was a playground playmate of Davy Jones of the Monkees, who is a regular at Wolves games when not on tour. ‘Davy and I used to play a lot of ping pong and five-man soccer as kids. He has invited my wife and I to spent some time with him here next summer,’ says Waggy.” - The Los Angeles Times, July 13, 1967

[demonmary]

so. john kills mary au.

important canon notes : there is no yellow eyed demon. john and mary were heaven-arranged with the help of anna as mary’s protector to make sure that sam and dean were conceived.

once sam is born, anna’s watch is ended officially. but she’s fallen for mary and mary for her so she stays close by. she does not trust john. things are getting more and more volatile between him and mary. he’s getting physical. anna has been warned not to interfere, mary’s safety isn’t important anymore - sam and dean are already born. heaven stepped away.

so one night - things get bad. john is off the fucking rails and he’s dead sober and that’s worse somehow and god. he’s angry. and mary’s never seen him like this before and she’s scared and he’s so mad. and he has his hands around her neck and she’s dying. she’s dying. she’s dying and she doesn’t know why but she’s praying too. and with her last breath she calls for anna but it’s too late.

when anna gets there it’s hell. she sees john’s anger and she matches it. she doubles it. she sees his fury and she turns it righteous and she’s screaming with her true voice and john’s bleeding from the ears and crying blood and she slashes at his face with her angel blade and cuts him from cheek to forehead and he doesn’t even know what hit him. one minute he’s standing over his dead wife’s body and the next he’s pinned to the ceiling and this angel is going to kill him. she’s in his head too - replaying scenes of death and destruction from the war mixed in with mary in her wedding dress. the first time he split mary’s lip. mary in the hospital bed with dean in her arms. the time he threw mary down the stairs. mary with child. the first time he strangled mary. mary mother mary. mary dead mary. he can’t focus through the pain - the cut on his face burns like fire and he’s held to the ceiling by anna and the screams couldn’t get louder and then they do. anna loses focus on john and he falls to the floor and there’s burning blue white pure light and wing flashes and angel blades clashing and then john is burning. the room is filled with smoke but it’s. otherwise empty. anna’s gone. whatever came and took her is gone. and there’s just fire. john runs out of his room with mary and leaves her body behind and finds dean in sam’s nursery with him , hiding from the noise and crying and he tells dean to run. and they run. sam still in deans arms even though john’s there to carry them both.

john throws himself into hunting. not to avenge mary but for his own revenge. against the angel that dared to interfere. against the angel that left him scarred. against the angel that he tells sam and dean killed their mother. he keeps his boys close for a minute while he’s on the run from the law bc of the whole. strangled his wife and burnt the house down thing. there’s no I Need To Protect My Kids From Monsters delusion. really - he knows they need to be protected from him, actually, especially so young - so as soon as he meets bobbyandrufus he dumps the boys at the salvage yard for as normal of a childhood as two mostly retired hunters can give ‘em.

sam is actually really into the lore from a young age. he never knew his mom - not really - so he throws himself into learning as much about their family line and angels / the supernatural as possible. he digs into bobby’s stuff all the time , “helps out” with research even tho he’s soooo little. he asks so many questions.

dean doesn’t give a fucKkkkk about that. he’s enrolled in school and loves it. he’s playing sports. he’s making friends. he’s living his best little boy life. until he’s 12 and john deems dean old enough to enlist into john’s war on heaven. deans pissy at first because. this isn’t his life, where’s sammy why can’t he finish the school year . but john makes sure he knows the stakes. makes sure dean knows this is about killing that angel that burned down their family home and scarred john and sent them running. and dean is like yes. we have to avenge mom. and john is like ???? OH. oh yeah. oh yeah her too. this is about your mother obviously yeah. the angel that killed mom. since i didn’t do that that’d be crazy.

and for four years - dean and sam are separated while john trains him. and thinking about the little dean that leaves bobby’s house with a little suitcase waving goodbye to sam. and how different dean is when they come back four years later for sam. and how resentful of being left out and behind and deserted sam would feel. how he doesn’t even recognize the soldier their father turned dean into. they know not to ask about mom because john gets mad but they don’t start picking up on how Off it all is until they’re older.

canon timeline picks back up. john hunting with kids in tow. obviously no azazel , no psychic sam, - focus on anna and angels. for the most part he never encounters any bc john is shit at hunting. but once sam fucks off to college (major in theology!) he and dean stay in touch behind john’s back. sam is doing research for dean - they start picking up that john is hiding shit from them. stanford era dean hunting alone, but calling on sam for help tracking down anna. he finally figures out how to summon her

ohhh the confrontation there is soooo juicy good to me. anna in a ring of fire, dean standing across from the thing he thought killed his mother. he needs to be sure before he calls john so he calls her out. anna cannot remember the last time she was this angry (lies. it was when she was too late to save mary. it was when she was stopped from avenging mary’s death and punished for interfering). anna’s face falls and she’s sick at the thought of mary’s sons growing up thinking she was the monster. growing up idolizing their father. raised by a murderer. she sees mary in deans face though and she calms herself down and she. explains to him everything. she shows him. everything. and here’s how dean kills john can win. i've also thought about how that Confrontation would go. wild things wild thoughts perfect horrible aus

[ghostoftonantzin]

The WIP Graveyard Game

@phasmama was kind enough to tag me back on her post

The rules: post snippets from at least on WIP you have abandoned! Mine are going under the cut, because I'm going to post the full five, mostly from 2020-2021 times.

I'm going to tag another 5 people, because I can >:) : @achaosmuppet @theshriekingsisterhood @madelgard (yes I know you moved into the star wars fandom, but still) @starkurt, @indashadows

WIP Title: Laura Branigan Lyric (that's what the word doc is called)

Concept: 1980s AU, focused on Laszlo and Nadja as high powered business people with a sideplot of Nandermo paralleling Guillermo's season 2 arc.

Abandoned because: tbh this one was mostly just one I liked to turn around in my head. It never got past the outlining phase.

Snippet:

His friends frequently describe the joy of conquest to him. Finding a beautiful woman, a model or a music video vixen or both, taking her to the hottest restaurants, introducing her to their friends, showing her the kind of life they lead, on the cutting edge.

It reminds Laszlo of the foxes the hounds chased on hunts on his childhood manor. He imagines the woman as a fox set upon by hounds, torn apart under their small teeth.

But this, this… is like being caught, helpless, in the jaws of a lioness.

(this was the only part that made it past outlining)

WIP Title: tie a ribbon back around it

Concept: Jenna/Shanice, Jenna comes to visit Shanice after she's turned

Abandoned because: it just kind of stayed near the bottom of my WIP list until it fell off, pretty much. Plus I could never get the Jenna POV feeling quite right.

Snippet:

Jenna’s phone said 9:16 p.m., so she figured Shanice would be back from her chemistry night lab pretty soon. She shouldn’t be late, unless she got murdered on that one stretch of the walk from the chemistry building to her new dorm with no lights or police call boxes. Jenna knew it was a good place to get murdered, because Nadja had told her so when Jenna had shown it to her.

One downside to being a vampire was the whole no-reflection thing, which made it hard to check her lipstick in the glass. The lipstick was new, a plum wine red color that the saleslady at Sephora said looked good with her skin tone. Not that she didn’t like the red Nadja had lent her on their first night out! But this was one of those liquid lipsticks that was supposed to stay on through anything.

WIP Title: you've got me living only for the night

Concept: a follow-up to come in from the edge (and let the good times roll), my second-ever fic, the one with Karen (from Collaboration, remember her?) and two of the ladies from Simon's gang. Karen is now living with the Freak Sisters and performing at

Abandoned because: partly because it got struck down so thoroughly by future canon installments, and partly because I fell out of love with the idea.

Snippet:

She sits down in the living room to wait for Mr. Fifties. The Freak Sisters had flown ahead, something about a meeting at the club before the show. They obviously hadn’t needed Karen to know more about it, so she hadn’t asked. She’d felt bad about making Mr. Fifties drive, but Despoina had put another bobby pin in Akeldama’s red wig and patiently explained how he was usually looking for an excuse to bring out his stick shift convertible anyway.

They’ve got her bloodstained bra and underwear framed on the wall, like a sports jersey. It’s a little embarrassing, Karen thinks. She can tell how cheap the lace is now; most of hers costs at least twice that now. She models every pair for them, which is more of a thing for her than for them, but they still clap and leer and pull her in close every time.

The Leatherskins have all always been polite about her, but Mr. Fifties has always been a perfect gentleman. He offers her his arm at the door, though she’s wearing slip on sneakers and not heels. Her heels are usually too high for her to really walk in. The Freak Sisters really like that, especially Despoina.

WIP Title: Vampire King

Concept: a follow-up to such strenuous living, i just don't understand, aka the one where Guillermo is a volunteer at a vampire sanctuary. This was intended to be the follow-up covering the release of the documentary being filmed in the original fic.

The documentary being Vampire King, about the controversies behind Simon the Devious's Sassy Cat Vampire Ranch and Guillermo de la Cruz's campaign to have it shut down.

Abandoned because: other ideas took precedence and I didn't want to learn to code the fake tweets. It also never got past the brainstorming stage.

WIP Title: Die, Cry, Hate

Concept: post-season-2 on the run fic, this time where the vamps go and stay with an old friend of Nandor's, Madame Beausoleil, a creepy French ex-aristocrat vampire with live-laugh-love type taste in decor (hence the title) and a questionable tendency towards hypnotizing her familiars. She decides to repay Nandor's past help by hypnotizing Guillermo to seduce him.

Abandoned because: this was brainstormed in the post-s2 hiatus, and canon continuing past that diminished my interest in the idea. Also never got past the outlining stage.

Snippet (in outline form):

-M.B. is laying boxes out on her coffin, kind of ignoring him

            -coffin looks slightly out of place in the room; large white, carved into deep, intricate panels with elaborate motifs and inlaid heavily with gold and accented with pale pinks and blues

-Guillermo asks her about her relationship to Nandor

            -she’s known him a long time, helped her out a lot in Paris, owes him a lot of favors

-turns to him “You will submit to my dark power.”

-fuck.

-“You will be Nandor’s for the daytime, for him to do with as he pleases.”

-“alright, strip”

-Guillermo starts taking his clothes off, stake falls out of his sleeve, sees MB. watching it fall to the floor, but can’t move to do anything about it

-she’s absolutely going to kill him

-She picks up a stake “I didn’t know Nandor was into gardening. I’d always taken that as more of Laszlo’s hobby”

-naked, looking at her, she gestures towards the boxes

-he goes to look at them, opens the boxes

            -lingerie: red and silk-like, black and strappy, white and lacy, pink and sheer

            -she tells him to pick out the pair he think Nandor would like

-“I had to guess your cup size.” She said, glancing at his chest with a furrowed brow.

-feels like he’s walking on the floor above a great machine, feeling its motion beneath him without comprehending it

            -brain working without him

-picks white and lacy (“always knew Nandor was a big fan of the wedding night look”), slides on underwear, garter, stockings