#i always think about how sam looked like HE was the one getting stabbed when dean killed ruby

[lambmotifz]

literally nothing will ever convince me that dean didn’t want (or didn’t at least think of it) to take advantage of sam’s self-hatred & desperate longing for redemption after starting the apocalypse. s5 sam was seeking punishment, he became way more submissive in comparison to when he was addicted to the demon blood (actually he metaphorically submits to dean even before lucifer rising: after his fight with dean he tells ruby “dean was right to say it” and then submits to him completely & physically by offering ruby AND his own body to dean’s knife). some part of dean was relishing in it because sam’s craving for punishment & redemption allowed him to gain back full control in their relationship (“how long am i gonna be on double-secret probation?” “till i say so”)

[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

-

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

-

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

-

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

[curly-fry-3]

Dean x Daughter!reader can you do this? Reader and Dean get caught in a hunt and it's a vampire or demon who wants revenge on Dean. They hurt the reader and Dean goes into protective dad mode.

𖦹Protection𖦹

summary𖦹 Dean goes crazy after hearing you got taken

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

word count𖦹 1275

notes𖦹 I feel like I haven't written in forever omg I hope this is good

Dean was starting to get worried. Usually you'd be home from school by now but you're nowhere in sight. You'd been gone for an extra two hours and Dean was pacing around the tables in the library. Maybe you were just out having fun and forgot to tell him, or you're breaking rules and don't want him to know (either way you'd be in trouble) but Dean has a really bad feeling. His mind is constantly going; what if you're hurt, what if someone took you–or something.

Your location was turned off, he had already checked multiple times. Why was it off? You always kept it on, it's Dean’s number one rule. He didn't even have time to worry about you running around town disobeying him, he should be researching the demon case with Sam.

After a couple more minutes of pacing he decides to check your location again. He's shocked to find out that it's turned back on and you're a couple cities over…in a warehouse–The exact warehouse that Sam had tracked the demons to. Shit. The worst thing that could possibly happen, happened. He promised you that he would keep you safe, but you got taken while on your way home from school. 

Dean is already getting his shoes on, grabbing his gun, and knife when he gets a call from you. He quickly answers as he continues making his way out the bunker, “Y/N?”

Your shaky voice responds “Dad…I'm not hurt but I will be if you don't show up within the next two hours.”

He rushes out to the impala the second he hears your voice. He can tell you've been crying and that the call is being monitored by someone else, “sweetheart, i'm gonna be there. It's all gonna be ok. I won't let them touch you”

He can hear you take anxious deep breaths. “I'm scared, they grabbed me while I was walking–” Dean listened as the phone is taken from you and passed around the room

At this point, he is already speeding down the freeway with his phone tightly gripped up against his ear, waiting for any noise to come from the other line. He was gonna kill them. He was gonna kill them all. God, how could he let you get taken like this. He should be able to protect you, that's his job. You're scared and it's his fault. Everytime he thinks about how terrified your voice sounded, his foot presses harder on the gas.

After a couple minutes of silence, Dean hears a man's voice on the phone “you still there Dean? Oh, I can picture your face now. You look a little constipated when you get angry”

“You touch her and your dead” He seethes 

The demon laughs lightly, “We’ll just have to see about that, won't we? I have a feeling shes a screamer”

He presses harder on the gas and continues driving with a white knuckle grip on the wheel, “You won't be getting to test that theory”

The demon sighs out in annoyance, “Really dean? You wanna be the one giving orders when I have your daughter tied up? I thought you were smarter than that. Just remember, you only have an hour left” 

The line goes dead and Dean throws his phone across the bench seat in anger, breaking it. He just has to focus on getting there and saving you, he can wallow in his guilt when he knows you're ok.

After about another forty minutes of driving, Dean swerves into the dirt lot in front of the warehouse and storms in, stabbing every demon who interrupts his path. He has to find you and get you out, he doesn't need you to see him ripping that asshole demon limb from limb. 

He was in the middle of taking his knife out of the chest of a demon when he heard you whimpering and being told to shut up. He rushes in the direction of your voice and makes his way into a large open room with dirty concrete floors. He immediately notices you tied up with rope in a chair in the center of the room. There was one other demon with you, probably the man on the phone. 

You notice him immediately and yell out “Dad!”

The demon turns toward you and covers your mouth with duct tape. “Do you know how many times ive had to tell her to shut up? You winchesters are so annoying” He asks Dean

He grips his knife tighter “you said you wouldn't hurt her if I came, im here, so back off”

The demon ignores his request and stays firmly planted in his standing position next to the chair, “always so demanding, gets me hot”

Dean grits his teeth “did you kidnap my daughter just to flirt with me? What the hell do you want?”

The man huffs out in fake exhaustion, “Revenge, obviously?”

“I dont want to burst your bubble, but I have no clue who the fuck you are” He states firmly

The demon gasps dramatically “You wound me. Did our long, sexually charged, wrestle match back in boston mean nothing to you”

He rolls his eyes angrily “buddy I don't remember you”

“You will after this” the demon then pulls a knife from behind his back and brings it up to your neck, putting just enough pressure to barely break skin. “Now, i'm gonna gut her infront of you”

Dean watches as the knife presses harder against you while deciding what would be the safest way for you to get out of this. He watches your pained expression as you frantically try to breathe through the duct tape. He pulls his arm back and uses all his strength to throw the knife into the demon's chest. The man falls to the floor with a pained gasp before the light flickers and the demon is officially dead. 

As soon as the man drops to the ground, Dean races over to you. Kneeling on the ground, he carefully pulls the tape away from your mouth. You take a deep breath when your mouth is no longer obstructed. “Dad!”

“Sweetheart, you're ok, I'm here, they're all dead. You're safe” He comforts as he unties the rope around your wrists and ankles.

The second you’re free from the rope, you throw your arms around Dean and melt into his arms. He can feel you crying against his shoulder, wetting his shirt sleeve. He kisses your forehead, pulling you further into his embrace while rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I'm here, princess. We can go home now. You're not gonna leave my sight, ok?”

You take quick, shaky breaths, trying to calm your crying, and nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, I wanna go home”He tugs you closer to his chest, with his arm supporting under your knees, and picks you up bridal style. You clutch onto the lapels of his jacket as he walks you out to the car and puts you in the passenger seat. About halfway into the drive back, you're asleep against him with his arm wrapped around you, playing with your hair to help calm you down. For the next couple of weeks you wouldn't leave Dean's side; following him around the bunker, sitting in the passenger seat every time he drove, and sleeping with him every night. That night was probably the scariest moment of both your lives, and Dean knows he can never let it happen again. For the time being, he’ll homeschool you to make sure you're safe, but he hopes eventually he can give you the normal life you deserve.

sorry if there are any typos

@areswasneverhere @mfstargirlsworld @childofjove

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |15 - Final|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam stood next to Tara as she got patched up in the ambulance. Sam couldn’t believe she made it out without another stab wound and that Tara only got stabbed in the shoulder. Her eyes drifted across the way to see you in the back of another ambulance, getting stitched up once again. It seemed you had been right; you tore open all of your stitches, again.

Chad was standing next to you, seeming to talk rather animatedly as he gestured around crazily with his arms. Sam was sure that when they got outside, they’d find Chad in a puddle of blood, but they didn’t, he had been completely fine. When Chad hadn’t been able to get ahold of Mindy, he said he went to go inside but the doors were all locked, so he ran to the nearest police station. By the time they were leaving the building police and medics were already waiting, a few minutes earlier and maybe Bailey and the others would have been arrested instead of dead.

“You know,” Tara said, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. She looked to see her sister was all patched up and now had a simple makeshift sling as she hopped down from the ambulance. “They’re not so bad,” she nodded in your direction. Sam followed her sister’s gaze and couldn’t help but smile. “I think you picked a good one.”

Sam let out a breathless laugh. She knew Tara was right, you were one of the good ones. They didn’t lose anyone with you by their side, you ended up getting the most hurt out of all of them in fact. Sam didn’t even want to know where they’d all be without you, she certainly didn’t think they’d make it out and she didn’t think she could handle losing any of them.

“I almost got them killed,” Sam said. She couldn’t see why you’d ever stick around; no one was crazy enough to put up with her after seeing her life. She figured you’d return to North Carolina and go back to your special ops missions; you were clearly quite good at it after all.

Tara scoffed and Sam looked back at her sister just in time to see her rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” Tara said. “They almost died for you!” She gestured at you. Sam furrowed her brow; Tara said the same exact thing she just did but in a different tone. Sam couldn’t figure out how it was any different, she was pretty sure you almost dying for her and her almost getting you killed meant the same thing.

“They’re still here,” Tara said slower as if that would make Sam understand better. Sam guessed it was obvious she was still confused because Tara threw her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. “They know everything,” she gestured widely. “And they still stayed.”

“They had a whole life before me.” Sam watched as the medic finished stitching up another one of your wounds.

“And you could be a part of it.”

“I don’t-”

“You deserve to be happy Sam.” Sam snapped her head towards her sister in shock, Tara sounded so confident when she said that. “You just got to take the chance:”

Sam sighed and looked back over at you. You stayed, you got hurt protecting her and her friends. Not to mention the fact that you also killed two people for her, probably would have done all three but you let her have Bailey. You didn’t need that kind of drama in your life, you could go back to your own life before you ever met her. Sam wasn’t even sure what a relationship with you would even look like. She worked two jobs to pay for the apartment and Tara would always be her priority. She would be stuck working dead end jobs because she never went to college, she barely got her high school diploma, but you were exceptional, you were smart and strong, you were a hero.

“Hey,” Chad said as he jogged up to the sisters. “I just got off the phone with Mindy.”

“Is she okay?” Tara asked. Sam watched Chad’s face with worry, they didn’t know anything besides the fact that Quinn apparently stabbed her. Chad had been asking for information on his sister since they got outside, several people said they’d learn what they could.

“Yeah,” Chad nodded. “She’s at the hospital, she said Gale also made it.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, her and Gale may have had their differences, but she certainly didn’t want to see the woman die, Gale didn’t deserve that. “I was going to head down there now; did you want to come with?”

Sam opened her mouth to say yes, she wanted to see Mindy and even Gale for herself. She wanted to be able to tell Gale that they got them, that it was finally over. The words never came out though as her eyes drifted back over to you. Chad whipped his head back and forth looking between you and Sam, when she finally turned back to answer Chad he was giving her a knowing smile.

“They’re okay,” Chad said without even being asked. “Giving the medics a hard time.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and roll her eyes. That definitely seemed accurate, they were probably trying to give you the best care possible while you insisted you were fine. Sam was sure the only reason they didn’t take you to the hospital was because you, once again, denied doing so.

“But you should talk to them,” Chad continued. Sam raised an eyebrow at that, she knew how much Chad liked you. Only one conversation and you had Chad vouching for you and had him telling you all about them, probably when you didn’t even ask. “They seem great!” He smiled innocently.

Sam rolled her eyes again; between Chad and her sister she didn’t know what she’d do. “We’ll meet you at the hospital in a bit,” Sam finally said. Chad nodded and ran off to a police officer who seemed willing to give him a ride.

Sam looked up just as you smiled and thanked the medic as she packed up her supplies. She looked back to her sister who gestured at her to go over to you. Sam sighed and made her way towards you. She had talked to you plenty of times, it wasn’t until you almost died trying to save her life, but since then it seemed like the two of you shared a lot. You talked about your past, Sam talked about hers, the two of you even shared a kiss when you spent the night. None of that meant you wanted anything more, if anything you’d probably want nothing to do with her.

“Hey,” you said as you hopped out of the ambulance.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. She looked you up and down, her eyes seemed to only go to the injuries she knew you had and a the blood covering your shirt. She knew most of the blood couldn’t have been yours, it was most likely from Quinn and Ethan.

“Yeah,” you shrugged as if everything that happened to you was no big deal. “What about you?” Your brow scrunched up as your eyes searched her face. Sam hadn’t even been stabbed and yet you were asking if she was okay. “And your sister,” you nodded at something behind her and Sam glanced back to see Tara watching the two of you.

Sam rolled her eyes; Tara was relentless when she made up her mind about something. “She’ll be okay, has to wear the sling for a few day.”

You let out a knowing hum. “And Chad said Mindy and Gale made it. Guess everyone made it out,” you smiled.

“Only thanks to you.” You scoffed and let out a little chuckle as if you didn’t actually believe Sam’s words. “I’m serious.” You rolled her eyes, still clearly not ready to accept what Sam was telling you. “Hey,” without thinking Sam reached out and caressed your cheek which you almost instinctively leaned into. “You saved us, there is no way all of us would have made it out, especially with most of us unscathed.”

You gave her a soft smile, finally seeming to accept the fact that you wouldn’t win this argument. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and Sam couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes as they stared into her own. “Your sister is staring at us,” you whispered, never taking your eyes off of Sam.

Sam felt her face heat up at that, she should have known you’d notice, you proved to be rather observant. “She’s making sure I talk to you,” Sam admitted.

“About anything in particular?” Your mouth twitched up in a smirk, as if you knew what Tara wanted Sam to talk to you about.

“I just…” the words got caught in her throat as she stared into your eyes. She couldn’t believe the person who was looking at her with so much cared had just killed two people, had killed them for her.

“Just what?” you rasped out. Sam wasn’t sure when she got so close to you, she had heard you as if you were the only two in the world.

Sam shook her head and pushed out all the voices telling her this was a bad idea and that you could still hurt her. She didn’t hesitate as she shot forward, catching your lips in a surprising kiss. She felt you stiffen but before she could pull away you grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Sam couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, it was even better than the first one and this time she didn’t intend on stopping you.

Eventually the two of you did have to breakaway because both of you needed to catch your breath. Sam couldn’t remember the last time she smiled so much, she bit her lip as she looked up at you shyly, as if she hadn’t just been to make the first move. She didn’t ask permission; she just went for it and the soft smile on your face was making her want to do it all over again.

“My life’s a mess,” Sam blurted out, but this time she was smiling as she spoke. “As you’ve seen,” she gestured to the chaos around them. “But, would you maybe,” Sam couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she was suddenly unable to look you in the eye. “Want to go out sometime?”

Sam glanced up through her lashes and was met with your soft smile. “I’d like that,” you said.

Sam smiled; it had been a long time since she asked someone out. She almost felt like she was back in high school, having her first crush. You gently put your finger under her chin and tilted her head up, so she was looking into your eyes again. Both of you couldn’t seem to help but smile as you leaned in for another kiss.

You broke the kiss quicker than Sam would like this time; she wanted to chase after your lips, but it was clear you had something you wanted to say. “Maybe I’m overthinking and rushing this,” you whispered. “Maybe our first date will go horrible, and you won’t want another.” Sam couldn’t help but silently chuckle at that, she didn’t think that was possible. “But I’m not easy to be with.” Sam furrowed her brow at that.

“I’m military, if I’m not deployed, I’m in North Carolina, I only get to come back home, to here, when I’m on leave, maybe a weekend, if I’m lucky,” you sighed, you seemed to really be stressing how little you would actually physically be able to be in the same place at Sam. “A lot of people don’t want to put up with that. You’re trying to lessen the complications in your life, I don’t want to add to it.”

Sam rested a hand on the side of your face, you closed your eyes as you leaned into her touch and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “I don’t think either of us can make any promises, or that we should,” Sam said. “But I’m willing to try.” You gave her what she could only describe as a relieved smile, as if you expected her to back down. “Let’s just live in the moment and take it day by day.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smiled and it seemed like you were about to lean in for another kiss, which Sam was more than happy to meet in the middle when the two of you were interrupted by someone calling out Sam’s name.

Sam furrowed her brow and turned to see Kirby being wheeled out on a gurney. “Oh my god,” Sam yelled and ran to Kirby’s side. “You’re alive!”

“I’m so glad while I was bleeding out, you two were making out,” Kirby mumbled, slightly drowsy from the drugs the medics gave her, or the blood loss.

“We weren’t the ones and who got ourselves shot,” you snarked.

“Hey,” Kirby pointed a finger at you, leaning up from the gurney slightly. “Remember who gave you that gun.” Sam’s eyes widened, she completely forgot you had a gun, one you didn’t tell her about. “And it seems it came in handy.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes and waved her off. “We’ll stop by and visit in a bit.”

Kirby nodded, seeming to get more sleepy the longer she laid there. “You did good sergeant.” You smiled at that and nodded for the medics to continue on towards the ambulance.

Sam crossed her arms as she stepped in front of you. She raised an expectant eyebrow at you, and you just tilted your head, as you pretended to be confused. “You failed to mention Kirby gave you a weapon,” Sam said.

“The less people who knew the better,” you defended. Sam scoffed; she couldn’t believe you were trying that with her. “And look, your sister is coming over,” you gestured to the side, effectively changing the subject as Sam glanced over and saw Tara was indeed walking over.

“So, you two together now?” Tara asked as a greeting.

“No!” Sam denied, she was sure her face was bright red after that. “We’ve barely known each other three days.” It felt like she had known you a lot longer than that, even if she didn’t count the longing stares she gave you at the gym the last three months. “But, we are going on a first date.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Guess that’s something,” she mumbled. Sam smacked her sister in the arm and nodded towards you. Tara gave a dramatic roll of her eyes again. “You did good,” she nodded at you. “Total badass.” Sam closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “And thanks for saving our lives,” Tara mumbled under her breath.

You took it well though and just quietly chuckled at her sister. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you said.

“Come on,” Sam said, giving you and Tara a tired smile. “Let’s go check on Mindy and Gale.”

The three of you walked away from the flashing lights and the chaos all of you just survived. Sam couldn’t help but smile as her hand brushed against yours, until you took the initiative and took her hand within your own. She glanced at you out of the side of her eye and saw you looking ahead, the only evidence that you knew what you did was the smirk on your face.

“So,” Tara said, interrupting the peaceful silence. “How many dates do the two of you have to go on before I can meet the dog?”

Sam chuckled to herself; she should have known that would be a thing. The second Tara learned you had a dog her face lit up. Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to see your dog again; she was still a bit intimidated but based on the smile on your face and the way Tara was looking at her, she had a feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of the dog.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

•~{ Heyyy so you gremlins choose this one out if the poll so here you go! }~•

•Cafe Ghost•

A new cafe has opened just on the edge of Crime Alley.

It’s in one of the old buildings that was a front for one of the older gangs that have long since been destroyed. It’s known to serve anyone as long as you don’t do these five things.

1: Insult the Employees or the Owners guests.

2: Try to hurt or have hurt anyone in the cafe.

3: Mess with the alley delivery kids.

4:Do not lie to the alley kids about payment they always tell Owner.

5: Make promises you will not keep.

If you do anything on this list your going to get cursed into silence or something worse if it’s the Owner but if it’s the Employee you’ll just get back talked to hell and back or in worse case stabbed. But no one in the alley really cares as the food and drinks are so good and cheap for Gotham so even the alley kids who don’t work there can get food and the Alley doesn’t rat out safe spaces.

But it has caught the attention of the Bats for the mysterious nature of the Owner and his Employe so three members of the family will go undercover and investigate the cafe

Damien and Tim will go undercover as Dion and Ivan who are two Alley kids that are looking for a way to make money the legal way after being backstabbed by their old boss. And Jason will be going as Otto who is an ex-con who is also looking for work after getting caught by the bats a few years back.

Let the investigation proceed.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

Danny was just going about his [ half ] life.

Danny came out to his parents about being a ghost and him being phantom with jazz there and Sam, Tucker listening in with a go-bag if they need to skip town fast but that wasn’t needed as his parents immediately went into apologizing for what they said and how scared he must have been and omg we shot our son!!!

So that when very well after that his parents views on ghost changed for the better and thankfully they cut all ties with the G.I.W even if there still somewhat a problem but their manageable so as long as they all keep them at bay it should be fine.

And Jazz “accidentally” reveals Vlad •~{ I heacannon that Jazz hates Vlad with a passion for how weird he is about Danny }~• and everything he’s done and how he acted towards Danny…let’s just say the Fentons were in need of new Fenton-bats as all of there’s were bent out of shape.

Anyway with the less stress from having your parents shooting you every other night his grades have been get better admittedly slowly but there getting better! And everything in Danny’s life has finally chilled out and he can just relax.

Until Vlad decided to be a problem.

Vlad after healing from the beating the Fentons gave him, his obsession started to change from marrying Maddie to taking Danny as his [Not in a romantic way like the Batfam will think, IF I SEE THEM BEING SHIP HERE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED THAT IS A CHILD AND A GROWN MAN] so he had to get Danny and keep him but with the Fentons protection he couldn’t get Danny that way so he kidnapped Dani who has come back to Amity park to visit Danny Mama and got grab by Vlad.

Vlad started to destabilize Dani to create a new clone as a place holder until he can grab the real Danny, But he was unable to destabilize Dani all the way as Danny blasted through the wall and grab Dani and booked it back to his house. [This is very simplified, I’m just shit at writing this type of shit]

So 16 year old Danny and a de-aged 2 Dani ( Who has been renamed Arsa ) feeling very uncomfortable and unsafe with Vlad being around but as Danny’s still in high school and under Fentons protection and not to mention Danny would finish the job his parents and the portal couldn’t.

So he stays until he finishes high school well it was a bit more difficult to keep his grades up with his new daughter but he managers and when he graduates he gives his family+Sam and Tucker a way to connect them and promise to visit every once and a while and books it to the ghost zone and into his liar where Vlad can’t get in as Danny wouldn’t let him.

And Danny + Arsa stay there for 11 years [on the earth side of it ✨Time difference✨] well visiting everyone when Vlad was in the ghost zone doing what ever shady shit he does or trying to get into Danny lair and when Danny feels like Arsa and protect herself from whatever may try to hurt her they move back and decide to move to Gotham as amity park is far to close to Vlad then Danny likes to be.

And they open the cafe just for some extra play money and for fun and that’s how we got here.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Danny is trans in this Au

•Asra doesn’t have memories from when she was Dani but she does have feelings

•Maddie and Jack are keeping the G.I.W at bay so they don’t start a war and keep Vlad on his toes while Jazz is in star city as a therapist or psychiatrist

•Danny and Asra choose what age they want to look like so Danny picked 21 and Asra will also probably pick 21 but she still wants to act like a kid or teenager for a few hundred years before than [it’s for Dani who never got the chance to be a kid or teenager]

•Danny somehow found a beanie that looks exactly like the one Dani wore and gave it to Asra as a gift now she wears it with her dagger pins with the magic Danny taught her :)

•Danny is really good at magic, the Fentons think it’s because down the line they most like had witch’s and fea folk in their family tree

•Jason starts to have a crush on Danny after seeing him beat the shit out of Vlad or the Joker for the alley kids

•Danny mother hens the shit out of the alley kids and the alley kids love it as most don’t have the best parents, Damien and Tim are no exceptions :)

•Danny has chilled out with age but is still a feral fucker at heart, Asra doesn’t hide it

•Asra call Danny “Mama” or “The boss man” when on the clock and will call Danny “Papa” if she feels like it

•Asra added to the Vlad and Danny misunderstanding because she is tired of having to deal with this vampire from Temu

•Danny and Asra are always up to some good old gender fuckery

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearance•

Dannys appearance•

[Danny likes to wear pants when working so the skirt doesn’t get stuck on anything]

[ But when he can wear skirts and dresses he makes sure to add pretty shinys ]

Asras Appearance•

[She likes pants not much to say]

•~{ And that’s it I hope this is what you gremlins wanted until next time byeeee }~•

[greypistacchio]

season 8 is truly THE destiel season. currently on episode 8.22 ("Clip Show"), which starts with this exchange here after Dean says he's gonna do a grocery run to Sam, and ignores Castiel who's standing right there. this obviously upsets Castiel, and the following exchange happens:

CASTIEL.- Dean, I can go with you. Dean. I'm sorry. DEAN.- For what? CASTIEL.- For everything. DEAN.- Everything? Like, uh... Like ignoring us? Or like bolting off with the angel tablet and losing it because you didn't trust me? You didn't trust me. CASTIEL.- Yes. DEAN.- Yeah, that's not gonna cut it. Not this time. So you can take your little apology and you cram it up your ass. CASTIEL.- Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing. DEAN.- Yeah, you always do. [Angsty eyefucking ensues.]

then in the next scene Dean and Sam are entering a dark room (presumably room 7B), and Sam brings the topic up.

SAM.- Dude, go easy on Cas, okay? He's one of the good guys. DEAN.- Look, if anybody else, I mean anybody, had pulled that kind of crap, I'd stab them in the neck on principle. Why should I give him a free pass? SAM.- Because it's Cas.

Dean said it himself. if this had been done by anybody else, literally anybody, he would've given them hell. with Cas, though? they picked him up from the middle of the road, and they took him to the Men of Letters bunker despite the fact that it's meant to be a secret location where nothing can find them.

if Castiel tried to talk to him, it was either because he thought there was a chance that Dean might listen, or because his desperation to get through to Dean was greater than his anxiety over Dean refusing to listen. either way, he looked truly distraught every time Dean rejected his attempts at talking to him, which I'd say is a clear sign that he cares a fuckton about how Dean thinks of him and acts around him.

this said, it's just really interesting to look at what each of them is feeling. on the one hand, Castiel was really upset that Dean kept rejecting his company and help. not only does he puppy-eye him intensely

he also goes grocery shopping for the bunker, and we see him getting exactly what he knows Dean wants. he grabs Busty Asian Beauties, which is Dean's iconic go-to adult magazine, and he grabs a six-pack, and he needs pie. he needs pie for Dean, who always tells whoever's hitting the shops to grab him some, and he needs it to the point that he physically assaults the cashier about it.

mind you, Castiel has no shit clue about how human grocery shopping works, but he nonetheless tries, and when he chases Metatron down the street we can see him carrying the shopping bag and six-pack. you'd think that toilet paper and Busty Asian Beauties would take the backseat after meeting the Scribe of God!! but Castiel makes sure to bring them along as he runs after the Scribe of God

considering that the 'tism comes with penguin pebbling as a love language, i would say that this shows the extent to which Castiel is worried about showing Dean how truly sorry he is. it matters so much to him that he can earn Dean's forgiveness by giving him all his favourite things—or at least placate Dean's ire—that he doesn't even think about whether bringing the groceries along is appropriate.

meanwhile what Dean is pissed off about the most is the fact that Cas didn't trust him.

if you watch the episode and get to the bit I transcribed, he is upset over two main things. one, that Castiel kept ignoring their prayers, which of course means that both Sam and himself kept trying to reach him. two, that Castiel went on the run because he didn't trust Dean. notice how he says "because you didn't trust me"—not "us"—, and how he repeats "you didn't trust me" with heavy emphasis on me.

later, when Sam tells him to go easy on Castiel, what Dean replies is that anybody else would've gotten a stab to the neck if they'd done what Castiel has. which means that Cas is getting a special treatment to an extent, since his neck is pretty much intact!

yeah, Dean is fuming, but other than giving Castiel the cold shoulder he's allowing him to stay at the bunker with them. and, i repeat, there has been no blade to the neck just yet, which says something considering that Dean has been pretty blade-happy since he got back from Purgatory :)

he acts like he doesn't give a shit about Castiel not being in the bunker when they get back from their interview with a priest, even though his absence is precisely one of the reasons why he's so pissed in the first place. from Sam's expression, it's pretty clear that he's quite puzzled by Dean's attitude, because it's just not like him.

Cas is one of the good guys, after all, and don't they give the good guys second chances? as long as they're on their side? why is Dean acting so angry still towards Castiel, when Cas is among the Top 3 most powerful allies they have?

all in all these two are dealing with an insane amount of emotional suffering that has to do with perceived abandonment. on the one hand Castiel feels devastated that Dean isn't talking to him nor taking his apology

on the other we've got Dean, who cannot look Cas in the face after Castiel turned his back on them, ignored his prayers, and didn't trust Dean enough to tell him where he was going and what he was doing with the angel tablet. this isn't Dean's first rodeo with Cas vanishing into thin air, nor is it the first time that Castiel plays a crucial role in the world's fate and doesn't care to explain it to Dean.

it isn't even the first time that Dean has prayed to Cas without getting any response (Season 6 anyone), but it is the first time that Castiel has done so after Dean let his guard down fully and admitted to needing Castiel after Cas beat him to a bloody pulp.

and it is the first time we've seen Dean on the verge of tears as he prays to Castiel, which by the way is something that he does when he's alone in his bedroom.

truly insane character dynamics. truly masterful character development. truly scrumptious ship.

[nyc-pizza-rat]

saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

~

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

[abarbaricyalp]

Hop To It

Happy Easter to those who celebrate, and happy regular Sunday to those who don't. And happy discounted-chocolate-tomorrow day to all 🐰🐣

"Bucky, are you gonna get an Easter basket?" AJ asked as he set aside the egg he'd been attempting to paint for half an hour already. Everyone else at the table had moved on to a second and third and fourth egg already, but AJ was not very interested in this part.

"A basket?" Bucky asked without looking away from the fine gold lines he was zigging and zagging around his egg. "I don't think I'm allowed to do the egg hunt," he said. "I'm gonna be hiding them, remember?"

Cass snickered across the table. His eggs were all beautiful water colors, a style they'd discovered by accident when Sam and Sarah had ended up flicking water at each other after a dispute over who messed up the tiny paint brush. The water had reacted with Cass's base layer on the egg, making it look like tie-dye and he'd been playing with that technique ever since.

"He doesn't mean for the egg hunt," he explained. "Mama makes us Easter baskets each year. It used to be 'cause the Easter Bunny would leave them when he hid the eggs, but we're both too old to believe that now."

"Yeah, the Easter Bunny isn't like Santa or the Tooth Fairy," AJ agreed.

Bucky set aside his egg and glanced over at Sarah, whose eyes were bright as she listened to the boys go back and forth. Sam looked amused too, but he was too fixed on putting the fine tissue paper across the top of his egg. He was being incredibly particular about the confetti amounts that went into each egg, so he was on confetti and sealant duty.

"I don't think any rabbit is interested in giving me a basket. A basket of what?" Bucky asked, when it was clear he wasn't getting any backup.

"Treats!" AJ said. "Lots of candy and some toys."

"And that illustrated bible story book every year," Cass added pointedly, glancing at his mom.

"Uncle Sam gets one, so you should to," AJ continued diplomatically.

"Sam gets an Easter Basket? Even though he's a grown up?" Bucky asked.

"Hey!" Sam objected.

"No, Sam sits next to me while I'm putting together baskets for children and steals the candy from them to make his own," Sarah corrected with a smirk.

"I make one for you!" Sam continued to object. The tissue paper was forgotten and World War Wilson was beginning to brew.

"Literally taking candy from babies, Samuel?" Bucky asked in shock. "How could you?"

"Not just babies," Sarah continued, delightedly. She tucked away the egg she was coloring to avoid Sam swatting at it. "I help make the baskets for the church's egg hunt. He's literally taking from the kids of the church," she laughed, folding over on herself as Sam tried to get a hand over her mouth.

"Samuel Thomas," Bucky gasped.

The boys oohed the way they did when either of them was in trouble too.

"We always have enough left over to run the whole event again!" Sam defended, trying to grapple with his sister. She threw her elbow back against his ribs and he groaned out an objection as he stumbled away. Bucky had seen him literally fight through stab wounds, but everything that happened to him in this house was treated like a fatal blow.

"It's the principle of it!" Bucky continued, keeping his face straight. He tried to focus back on his egg, though he was definitely not focused even a little bit.

"So what kind of stuff do you get?" he asked the boys.

"Last year, we got those fidget poppers!" AJ said. "The bunny and egg ones? And Cass got one of the animal Lego sets and I got a book about pirates!"

"And those little keychains. The soft toys that Uncle Sam uses as a stress ball," Cass added.

"And chocolate!" AJ finished with a flourish, flinging paint to the next wall over. "You've got to have a lot of chocolate."

"I'm discovering this about this holiday," Bucky conceded. "Egg laying rabbits eat chocolate rabbit effigies and chocolate eggs."

"And there are marshmallow chicks," Sarah reminded him with a grin.

Bucky pretended to gag, which launched Sam into a heated defense of original Peeps. (Only the originals, everything flavored or shaped differently was free for criticism, but those yellow and pink chicks were not.)

Bucky threw him a grin as the rant subsided and was pleased to see Sam beam back at him.

. . .

The idea of an "Easter Basket" stayed on Bucky's mind for a while. It wasn't something he'd ever heard of before. Not that he remembered anyway. But the concept didn't seem that difficult. Once it had been pointed out to him, he started to notice the pre-made ones in stores and understood an extra joke or two on the internet. 

Knowing Sam liked them was another part of the intrigue. That's why Bucky ended up buying a nice faux-rattan basket, which wanted to look like faux-wood, from the spirits store that sold the expensive wine Sam liked. The fact that it was free after the price of the wine was a good motivator. He still didn’t fully understand the concept of filling it, but the basket was large and the wine seemed silly and small by itself, so he added some of the sausage and jerky from the meat market down the way and a couple of the crew-neck shirts that Sam liked but never bought for himself. He added in a record that he had been saving for Sam’s birthday to even out the height of the wine bottle on the other side, then dumped approximately twenty pounds of candy into the bottom of the basket.

That looked right, he figured. It was all things Sam liked. Did it honor the theme of spring harvests or Jesus rising or whatever these were supposed to represent? Not really. Did it seem like the kind of thing an egg laying rabbit would leave behind? Probably not. But he thought Sam would like it anyway.

Sunday morning, after Sarah had corralled the boys into their Easter best and headed out for church, Sam and Bucky went to the house to hide eggs, including quite a few that got tucked into the lower branches of the trees in the front yard. Sam had threatened to use the wings to hide the eggs earlier in the week, so the boys should think to look up.

By the time they were done, Sam teased that he had enough time to make it to service on time and Bucky, like a child, crushed a cascarón on his head so he couldn’t. Or, at least, wouldn’t.

There had very specifically been one carton of cascarones left for them to ruin on their own. After  about five minutes, there was no carton and they were both covered in tiny, bright confetti pieces. Sam had made sure to rub confetti and eggshell into Bucky’s hair, even when Bucky threatened to make him get them all out in the shower later. And, since he didn’t mind shoring up his ego a little bit, he accepted that Sam very intentionally made the next round of confetti even messier and harder to get out.

The rule had been: No cascarones in the house. So, Sam and Bucky waited out the return of the other half of the Wilson family on the back of the truck, passing a bottle of coca-cola back and forth.

“Easter Sunday was always one of my favorite days of the year,” Sam said, tilting his face up as a breeze swirled around them. “It was always something I felt in and outside of myself.”

Bucky hummed and studied Sam’s profile, watching the early morning sun streak across his cheeks and paint long shadows beneath his eyelashes. He hadn’t had any strong opinions about Easter Sunday, but now he was suddenly getting the appeal.

“The air just seemed fresher and the birds were always out and it never rained and it wasn’t hot yet. It was one of my daddy’s favorite sermons of the year. He’d wander around the house, humming, ‘He is risen. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.’ It was our favorite. Hard to have a bad day after singing that at sunrise.”

Bucky leaned against Sam’s shoulder and let himself take in a little bit of that happy nostalgia. He didn’t really have any of it himself. Easter was just another day of the year and he’d hated the way his parents preened over them as kids to look exactly a certain way. It was a terrible way to wake up at five in the morning.

But, like this, he figured he could listen to Sam read the whole bible and still want more at the end.

He leaned over to kiss just below Sam’s eye, then hopped off the bed of the truck. “I got you something,” he said. “And no laughing if I did it wrong.”

“You think you can do a gift wrong?” Sam asked in amusement. He leaned back on his hands, a perfect picture of a joyful, warm sprawl.

“I know I can. You know I can.”

A lazy, amused smile curled Sam’s mouth and Bucky wanted to kiss him so badly it was almost an ache. He tore his eyes away and grabbed the basket out of the cab of the truck. Sam never checked the back unless they were with the boys, so it was an excellent hiding spot.Bucky had go-bags for all of them stashed under the seats and beneath the bench and Sam was none the wiser about it.

“Now you don’t have to take from church kids,” he proclaimed, dropping the Easter basket in Sam’s lap with a flourish.

Sam peeked open one eye, then grinned broadly when he realized what it was. “You made me a basket?” he laughed.

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky said, suddenly a little shy with the idea. “Dig through it. I didn’t put any plastic on it ‘cause I hate the sound.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” Sam teased, fully aware that they actually both hated it. It sounded like fire, or the rapid crack of a lightweight, heavy powered gun. Bucky had always thought he was overreacting, until he saw Sam flinch at the same sound during someone’s party.

Sam, as always, was methodical in taking apart the basket. He carefully lined everything up next to him on the tailgate and examined each piece like there might be a mystery to things he already liked. Bucky took an extra mini-candy every time he took longer than ten seconds to look at something.

“Buck, this is really sweet,” he sighed airly. He tugged Bucky between his legs by the shirt collar and Bucky obligingly dipped down for a kiss. (Finally) “I feel bad I didn’t get you one.”

“I still don’t get the appeal,” Bucky admitted. But he reached over the complicated bow that had been taped to the front of the basket and stuck it on Sam’s shoulder. “There,” he said. “Now you got me something.”

Sam beamed at him and kissed him again. The Easter morning sun rose on plastic eggs, and a quiet patch of world, and them tangled together.

[zombiigrll]

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INSECURITIES. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.1K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort, use of y/n, spoilers for twd 6x9, carl and reader are already in a relationship .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you help carl after he gets shot. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ ive been rewatching the early seasons of the walking dead and seeing everything carl went through again makes me SOB HYSTERICALLY. so ofc i needed to write this and make you guys feel my pain 😈 my creative juices have also been flowing a little bit more recently... but its also a little short too......... hope u dont mind 🙏

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he never showed any of his insecurities to you before. he always made sure that you felt comfortable telling him things, but he would never fully open up to you.

you were aware of his mother passing, that his dads friend died, and just how he's experienced so much death. but he never told you how anybody died. he wouldn't tell you no matter what.

that was until the walkers flooded the streets of alexandria.

as always, you were by carls side. you held his right hand in line as you two along with rick, michonne, jessie, ron, and sam walked through the herd in gut-stained ponchos, attempting to lead them to the quarry nearby.

but everything went downhill. fast.

sam saw something in the herd. no one was sure what, but he freaked out. his cries were loud, and gave away his position.

the walkers killed him, then they made their way to jessie, who had refused to let go of sams hand.

and if it wasn't for you using your machete to cut her arm off, carl would've died, too.

you thought that was it, that you would just have to slash through some more walkers to get somewhere safe, but not yet.

you looked to the side and noticed ron pointing his gun right to you.

but right as he shot, michonne stabbed him.

you were supposed to get shot. but due to the timing...

"dad..?" you heard carl from your left.

you turned to face him, and you immediately noticed his eye.

it was gone. a trail of dark crimson leaking from his socket. you caught him before he could fully fall.

"no.. no, no!" you cried trembling as you held him.

rick runs over and picks carl up. you and michonne pull out your weapons and begin clearing a path with adrenaline coursing through the three of you.

you guys eventually make it to the infirmary.

rick places carl onto the bed. the rest of that night, a loud ringing played in your ears.

your mind raced wildly. thinking of all the possible outcomes, but you were sure he was going to die. i mean, he was shot in the face.

after the nurse helped patch him up the best she could, you sat on the opposite side of rick. rick held one of his hands, you held the other. you rested your head on top of his shoulder, sobbing.

rick was crying, too. praying for carl to be okay.

that's when you felt his hand hold yours back, tightly.

you lifted your hand up to look at rick, and he had the same expression. he was holding both of your guys' hands.

your sobs turned hopeful as you began to smile.

...

a few days had passed. carl was awake, thankfully. he tried to get you to leave the room, but you refused.

"i don't want you to see me like this." carl strenly spoke, his voice cracking slightly as he attempted to hide his face.

you walked over to his side, putting your hand up to his face to carefully cup his now scarred cheek. you turned his face so he could look at you. "i'm not going anywhere."

he sighed and closed his eye, knowing he wouldn't be able to make you go away. "i don't understand you."

"what?"

"after everything i've done.. you're still here with me." he lightly chuckled. "i'm really not a good person, y/n. theres so much you don't know about me."

"nothing you could tell me would make me believe that." you shook your head, moving your hand down to his and holding it tightly.

"you say that now.." he turns his head away. "if i told you what i've done, you'd think i'm a monster. you'd hate me."

"you're not a monster, carl. what are you talking about?"

"i've killed people. a kid i didn't know the name of, my dads friend.. my mom." he kept his eyes shut as he spoke, his voice and body trembling.

you held his hand tighter, looking at him softly. "i'm sure there were reasons to all of that. i don't believe you're a monster."

carl stayed silent.

you brought your other hand up, moving his hair behind his ear before holding his face.

"i love you. no matter what." you smiled at him with your eyebrows furrowed. "no matter who many people you've killed or hurt, no matter if you've done shitty things in the past, no matter how many scars, i don't care. because i love you."

he opened his eye to look at you, he quickly sat up and put his arms around you, putting his head in the crook of your neck.

"hey.. be careful for your eye." you put your arms around him carefully, your hand on the back of his head.

"i love you, too." he silently mumbled. "i don't understand how i got so lucky with you."

you laughed, kissing the top of his head. "i've done bad things too, carl. it's just something we can't avoid now. it doesn't make us monsters." you pushed away from the hug, leaving your hands on his shoulders. "i got lucky with you, too. in my eyes, you're an angel."

his eye moves all over your features. you knew he had been adjusting and learning how to see without his other eye, but seeing it happen right in front of you was a bit difficult to witness.

"i should've been the one that got shot. you saw me kill jessie." you sighed, your gaze turning down to the floor. "he was aiming at me."

carl shakes his head. "it's not your fault. it's no ones fault. if he had shot you, i think he would've really killed you. but i got shot, and i'm alive." he smiles at you, tilting his head as he continues taking you in. "i'm glad it was me."

you tilted your head, pursing your lips slightly. "i guess either way, no matter who got shot, no one would be okay with it." you laughed, trying to make light of the situation. "...you should get some rest."

"i know." he moves away and lays back down, looking back up at the ceiling.

you stand up, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on his forehead before turning back away to the door. "goodnight, carl."

"wait."

you turned back around. "hm?"

"...could you stay?" carl asked, his voice softened.

your lips curved up into a smile, walking back over to him. "of course." you sat back down next to him, holding his hand again, similarly to when he was first shot. "get some sleep, okay?"

he nodded, closing his eye. "alright. i love you."

"i love you too, carl. always."

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[ambiguous-avery]

HI HI BESTIE - I'VE GOT A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION FOR YOU:

Picture this: Dean on his last hunt had to bite on a hammer's handle (huh, I wonder where that one came from?) and CRACK - of course, one of his teeth cracked in half. Now he's forced to go to a dental clinic. How do you think would he manage the appointment?

Probably the weirdest question I've ever asked so far but you do with it what you want, it's your problem now. 🤡 //runs like the wind

Hello, hello bestie!

Wow, what a question! And I mean that in a good way lol hopefully you’re talking about the handle of a regular ol’ hammer and not Mjolnir. At least a wooden handle of a hammer would be less damaging! What a niche question - I love it!

Bit of background for anyone who doesn’t know, but I work in the dental field, so this is right up my alley! I couldn’t decide how I wanted to respond to this, so have an extended drabble! Sorry, it turned into a really long piece.

Tooth Hurty

No Pairings | WC: 2520

Summary: Dean goes to the dentist

Tags/Warnings: Dental terms, detailed dental procedure, Dean’s got a fear of dentists, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: Title comes from the punch line of “When’s the best time to go to the dentist?”

Dean had been through a lot. He knew pain. He had dealt with being stabbed and shot and thrown against various things in his life. He’d been through literal Hell before.

But this? This was something else.

This was deeper. More profound. An ache that throbbed everytime he moved his jaw. And he used his jaw for like... everything. Eating, talking, hell, even when he swallowed. Mouth pain was a totally different ball game than any other kind of pain.

“You should really get that checked out, Dean,” Sam said without bothering to look up from his book. Dean rolled his eyes at him over it. Some Advil and Tylenol would be fine, and everything would be better in a couple days.

It wasn’t.

By day three, Dean was ready to rip the tooth out himself. When he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t see much, even with a flashlight. He wasn’t a professional, but there was definitely something wrong in there. His gums were red and swollen, and when he pressed gently around his back molar, a shock of pain made him grip the bathroom sink with white knuckles.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed, his eyes watering involuntarily.

He stumbled back into the motel room to find Sam staring at him with that patented little-brother concern that always made Dean feel like he was five again.

“Dude, seriously. It’s not going to get better on its own.”

“It’s just a toothache, Sammy. Not exactly apocalyptic.” Sam closed his laptop with a definitive click.

“No, but infections can spread. Remember that hunter in Nebraska? Bobby said he lost half his jaw because he was too stubborn to see a dentist.”

Dean winced, partly from the pain shooting through his jaw as he clenched it and partly from the unwelcome image Sam had just planted in his head.

“That was different,” Dean argued. “That guy got his teeth knocked out by a werewolf. Mine’s probably just a cavity or something.” Sam gave him a look, the one that said he wasn’t buying any of Dean’s crap.

“Then it should be a quick fix. I already found a dentist in town who can see you tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Dean’s voice definitely didn’t crack. No, siree, it didn’t. “Don’t they need like... weeks of notice?”

“I told them it was an emergency.” Sam’s expression softened. “Look, I know you hate dentists–”

“I don’t hate dentists,” Dean cut in far too quickly.

“Right... And I don’t hate clowns.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Just go. Get it fixed. Then we can focus on the case.” Dean muttered something under his breath that might have been an agreement or might have been a string of curses. With the way his tooth was throbbing, even he wasn’t totally sure.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. Every position seemed to make the pain worse. Around 2 AM, Dean gave up and shuffled to the bathroom, fumbling through his toiletry bag until he found the small flask he kept for emergencies. This definitely qualified. The whisky burned going down, but the warmth that spread through his chest was worth it. He took another swig, hoping that the alcohol would numb the pain enough to catch a few hours of sleep before his appointment.

When the morning came, Dean was a mess of nerves and lingering pain. He downed another shot of whiskey with his coffee while Sam pretended not to notice.

“It’s at 10:30,” Sam reminded him. Dean answered with a grunt, his fingers drumming against the Impala’s keys in his pocket.

“You don’t have to come in with me,” Dean said as they pulled into the parking lot of “Smile Shack,” a name that made his stomach clench. “I’m not a kid.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sam muttered. He followed Dean into the office.

The waiting room was too bright. Too cheerful. With posters of perfect smiles that seemed to mock him. Dean filled out the paperwork with shaky handwriting, grateful for the lingering burn of whiskey in his system to keep him from bolting. The assistant, a perky blond with a smile too wide for her face, called his name with far too much enthusiasm.

“Dean Winchester? We’re ready for you.”

Dean rose slowly, his legs surprisingly unsteady beneath him. He seriously considered making a run for it. He’d faced down demons with more courage than he had in the present moment, but the throbbing in his jaw reminded him why he was here. The dental assistant led him to a room with an ominous-looking chair in the center. Various metal instruments were arranged neatly on a tray beside it, each one more terrifying than the one before it.

“First time in a while?” she asked kindly, noticing his hesitation.

“Something like that,” Dean managed, his throat clicking dryly. The last dentist he’d seen was in a free clinic when he was fourteen after Dad had finally noticed his swollen face from a molar that had been bothering him for weeks. The memory wasn’t exactly comforting.

“Have a seat,” the assistant instructed, motioning to the chair. “Dr. Mitchell will be with you shortly.” Dean lowered himself into the chair, gripping the armrests tightly as it automatically reclined. The ceiling lights beamed down on him like he was in an interrogation room.

“Hello,” came a cheerful voice from the doorway. “I’m Dr. Mitchell. What brings you in today?” Dr. Mitchell was younger than Dean expected with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. Despite himself, Dean felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Back molar,” he said. “Right side. Been killing me for days.”

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” She snapped on the nitrile gloves with practiced efficiency while the assistant took up a spot on Dean’s left. “Open wide for me.”

Dean complied, fighting every instinct to close his mouth as Dr. Mitchell leaned over him with a small mirror and what looked like a miniature pirate hook. His fingers dug deeper into the armrests. Dr. Mitchell made a low noise of understanding, gently probing around Dean’s aching tooth. Even her careful touch sent lightning bolts of pain through Dean’s jaw. “I see the problem. Looks like the molar has cracked. Did you bite down on something hard?”

Dean made a noncommittal sound, the best he could manage with the doctor’s instruments in his mouth.

“We’ll need to take an X-ray to see the full extent, but I suspect that the tooth needs to come out.” Dr. Mitchell removed her tools and straightened up. “Have you had any fever or swelling in your neck?”

“No,” Dean lied instinctively, ignoring the fact that his neck had felt stiff when he woke up. He’d faced worse. Much worse. Dr. Mitchell gave him a look that suggested she didn’t quite believe what Dean said but didn’t press the issue.

“The whiskey on your breath isn’t helping your case, Mr. Winchester.”

“Just a little liquid courage,” he tried to defend, though Dean felt heat rise to his face.

“I understand dental anxiety,” she said without judgement. “But alcohol thins your blood. Not ideal before oral surgery.”

“Surgery?” Dean repeated, the word sticking in his dry throat.

“Nothing invasive,” she assured him. “But the tooth needs to come out today. The infection is quite advanced.”

The assistant returned with the X-ray equipment, and Dean endured the uncomfortable process of having various plastic contraptions shoved into his mouth. Each click of the machine sounded like a death knell. When Dr. Mitchell returned with his X-rays displayed on a tablet, her expression confirmed Dean’s fears.

“As I expected, the crack extends into the root. We need to extract it today.” She pointed to the dark shadows around the tooth. “This area here shows infection. You’re lucky you came in when you did.” Dean didn’t feel lucky in the slightest. He felt like he might puke. “We can do this local anesthesia,” Dr. Mitchell continued, “but given your anxiety level, I can also offer nitrous oxide. Laughing gas.”

“I’m not anxious,” Dean protested automatically. Dr. Mitchell pointedly glanced at his white-knuckled grip on the armrests.

“Of course not. But the nitrous can make the experience more... pleasant.” Dean swallowed hard. The idea of being even slightly out of control made every hunter instinct in him scream in protest. But the persistent ache in his jaw was quickly overriding his caution.

“Fine,” he agreed. “Hit me with the gas.”

Dr. Mitchell nodded to her assistant who wheeled over a small tank with a mask attached.

“You’ll feel relaxed. Maybe a bit light-headed. But patients find things funnier than usual, but I assure you that it wears off quickly once we turn it off.” Dean nodded stiffly as the mask was placed over his nose. “Just breathe normally through your nose,” Dr. Mitchell instructed. “We’ll give it a few moments to kick in before we numb the area.”

The first few breaths felt no different than regular air. There was no strange smell, no sign that anything was any different. Dean focused on the ceiling, counting the seconds and waiting for this whole nightmare to be over. Then, gradually, something shifted. The edges of his vision softened. The ceiling stain started to look less like a problem and more like an abstract painting. Kind of fascinating, really.

“Feeling any different?” Dr. Mitchell’s voice seemed like she was both near and far at the same time.

“Maybe a little,” Dean admitted, surprised to find that his grip on the armrests had loosened. The pain was still there, but somehow it didn’t seem as important anymore.

“Good. I’m going to numb the area now. Just a small pinch.” Dean nodded, watching with detached interest as she prepared the syringe. Normally, the sight would’ve had his heart racing, but now, he found himself uncharacteristically curious about the whole process.

“You know,” he began, his voice sounding distant to his own ears, “I’ve been shot before. Stabbed, too. This shouldn’t be a big deal.” Dr. Mitchell paused, syringe halfway to Dean’s mouth.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“Hunting accident. A few of ‘em, actually,” Dean mumbled, finding it increasingly difficult to care about maintaining his usual cover story. “This one time in Pennsylvania, got tossed through a window by a–” He caught himself just in time, “–bear.”

“I see...” Dr. Mitchell said carefully. “Well, this will be much less dramatic. Small pinch now.” Dean barely felt the needle. His mind was drifting pleasantly, untethered from his usual constant vigilance. He wondered if this was how normal people felt all the time. Not scanning for threats. Not carrying the weight of the world.

“You have nice eyes,” he said to the assistant who smiled politely at him. “Very symmetrical.”

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Dean,” he corrected, finding himself oddly chatty. “Mr. Winchester was my dad. He’d think this was hilarious. Me freaking out over a tooth.” He guffawed, and it felt good. Like releasing pressure from a valve.

“Well I’m glad you came in despite your nerves,” the assistant said.

“The area should be getting numb now. Can you feel this?” Dr. Mitchell asked as she tapped something against his gum. Dean felt pressure but nothing more.

“Nope. ‘S weird.” His tongue felt heavy and uncooperative.

“Perfect. We’re going to get started then. You might feel some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt at all.” Dean nodded, suddenly fascinated by the ceiling tiles again. Had they always been so intricate? He could see patterns forming and dissolving as he stared.

Time seemed to stretch and compress in strange ways. Dean was vaguely away of Dr. Mitchell working in his mouth. Pressure. The occasional sound of something cracking. Hushed instructions to her assistant. But everything felt distant. Like it was happening to someone else rather than him.

“You’re doing great,” Dr. Mitchell assured him. “Almost done.”

“My brother,” Dean found himself saying around the instruments in his mouth. “He’s the one who made me come. Always looking for me. Since we were young.”

“Mmhmm,” Dr. Mitchell responded, clearly more focused on her work than Dean’s rambling.

“Saved the world once,” Dean continued, unable to find the control to stop himself. “Well, more than once. People don’t even know. That’s the thing about... about hunting. Nobody knows when you save ‘em.”

“That’s... nice,” the assistant said uncertainly, exchanging a quick glance with Dr. Mitchell. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your... hunting.” Dean felt a strange tug in his mouth followed by a triumphant “There we go!” from Dr. Mitchell.

“Is that my tooth?” Dean asked, trying to see what she had.

“Yes, and it was definitely the culprit. We’ll irrigate the socket now and place some gauze.” She held up the extracted molar. “Would you like to keep it?” Dean stared at the bloody tooth, oddly fascinated by the shape of it.

“Yeah. Souvenir.”

The assistant placed the tooth in a small, plastic container while Dr. Mitchell went over post-extraction care. Dean nodded along, only catching every third word or so as the nitrous kept his mind pleasantly adrift.

“We’ll start tapering off the nitrous now and switch you to oxygen,” Dr. Mitchell said, adjusting something on the tank. “You’ll start to feel more alert soon.”

As promised, the foggy, pleasant sensation began to recede. And with it came the creeping awareness of what he had been saying. Had he really mentioned hunting? Saving the world? Dean grimaced internally. Hopefully they’d just chalk it up to the ramblings of a nervous man out of his mind.

“Feeling more like yourself?” Dr. Mitchell asked, removing the mask from his face.

“Yeah,” he said around the gauze in his mouth. The local anesthetic was still in effect, making half his face feel like it belonged to someone else.

“You did very well,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’m prescribing antibiotics to clear up that infection and some pain medication for the next few days. No drinking, smoking, or using straws for at least 72 hours. You don’t want a dry socket.”

Dean nodded, taking the papers she handed to him. The room seemed overly bright now that the nitrous had worn off. Reality was setting back in.

“Your brother is waiting for you in the reception area,” the assistant informed him, helping him stand. “I’ll walk you out.” Dean followed her on slightly shaky legs, his dignity barely intact. The extraction site was beginning to throb dully beneath the numbness, a warning of the pain to come. Dean paused as they passed a small counter littered with small toys and trinkets.

“Can I have one of these?” he asked. The assistant glanced from him to the counter top.

“Sure,” she said with a smile. He grinned as best as he could before snagging one of the neon green sticky hands, the plastic crinkling in his hand. As he stepped back out into the waiting room, Sam stood up, concern etched on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, eyeing the gauze peeking out from Dean’s mouth. Dean flashed him a thumbs up and held up the tooth-shaped container and sticky hand.

“Got some souvenirs. Wanna see?”

---

Dean taglist: @jollyhunter @aylacavebear @globetrotter28 @bettystonewell @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @maddie0101 @sir-thisisadndserver @colours-of-thewind @kiddieclaws @mostlymarvelgirl @rurwu @imalapdog

[robin33r]

TAURTIS.

Taurtis isn't talked about enough. He's genuinely gotten drowned out and it's golly awful!!! Everyone's so focused on Sam and grian and their stuff taurtis gets drowned out.

Taurtis is such an anomaly and he is MORE than just some silly guy who's Sam's best friend. I'd argue he's just as bad or maybe even a tad bit worse. Hear me out.

Straight up at the beginning of the series, no one mentions (outside of like 2 people) that taurtis has killed someone and made it on TV while getting away with it. Bros the first murderer we see in the season revealed and hey, this can imply he's done it before and never gotten caught. Taurtis knows damn well how things are and id argue hes the result behind Sam's behavior. Not Yuki, while she did also heavily influence him, he did a lot more damage.

No one ever mentions ot though because he's just a "silly little guy"

Even from the start Taurtis has been seen making these decisions for Sam but the way they work is making it look like the others independent when I can argue they're both codependent on eachother in a way. Taurtis even convinces and forces the idea of Sam doing things for to a sense someone can see "for his (Sam's) own good" When Sam was in love with Sookie and found out she was into women, he was bummed out, however Taurtis was the one who suggested he could chop her up or get Sam to dress as a girl in which; he even protested at first and kept denying. Taurtis in the beginning had a small weird obsession with when things went wrong; they could resort to "chop chop" It is known and we all talk about Sam and Yuki being a yandere but what about Taurtis being one potentially? I know this can be diminished by the nice treatment Salex (I have a whole another yap session about salex and him and sam) The second Sam said he had no chance with Sookie, Taurtis asked about using force and deceiving to help get Sam what he wants. Also for whatever reason he has a TON of images of Sam on his phone canonically?? Am I the only one who's taking that into acc?

Sam is EASILY one of the most quick-to-influence characters in the series and can easily be manipulated, despite being described as a manipulator himself. And the person who's been with him the most in life and who's been living ALONE with for who knows what time? For Sam to having gone down the rabbit hole he is, the person who'd have tk influence that would have to be Taurtis. He encourages and excuses everything and I'd argue he even partakes in stuff in his own time. There's also the fact he has no problem hurting his own friends as well, he's CONSTANTLY being physical with Sam and he doesn't even care with Stabbing him off a building as a friendly gesture to a sense. There's also the fact he literally doesn't care if someone (coughs SAM) plays dress up with him whenever they want, it's fine its whatever right?? He could care less about that stuff

HOWEVER in the end he's still a teenager, he's a genuinely insecure teenager. It's not directly stated however it is very much implied with his reactions and interactions and his need/drive to impress others and for them to be impressed by and to want him. He almost needs people to need him and that's probably part of what makes him happy about Sam's codependency because he knows Sam needs Taurtis. Taurtis needs someone to need him, which is probably what started his infatuation with salex because she always praised and flirted with him and fueled his confidence; that's what he wants or "needs." That's part of where I think not only Sam but TAURTIS is also codependent in his own way. It's an eye for an eye. He gives what he wants and expects that to be given back in its own way. He's more than happy with being popular and having Sam do so much, hell that helps boost his confidence. He's got his own demands and we've seen instances where he makes Sam supply hjm or give him his own food (which my friend has pointed out that Sam's willing to even starve for taurtis if it meant taurtis could feel full/get what he wanted.) We see Taurtis even being insecure when Sam and Grian point things out (like when he went bald and how horrible it looked) and he instantly jumped on trying to find ways to quickly grow his hair back. He doesn't want that imperfection. He's quick to jump to conclusions too because when Sam makes a small comment he INSTANTLY retorts. (Example; "you have a great chewwy/ you'd be a great chewwy-chewbaca" "are you saying I'm hairy/fat???) He's still an insecure teenager, despite his popular and having someone straight up need him to be even the slightest bit okay, I dont think he'd willingly abandon that

I have so much more to say but rn this is what I'm giving, I could go into his relationship with Sam, his acts/interests, hus family and childhood but that's for another episode

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Why? (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has a big secret that she’s kept but now it’s revealed and Dean doesn’t understand why

Word Count: 1,598

13 years. That’s how long it’s been since Y/N joined the brothers and the angel on their journey. She was 22 at the time. Young and oblivious to the true power that the universe held. Sam was like her best friend. He was always nice and welcoming and kept her grounded. Dean on the other hand was not nice to her at all. He hated the fact that she was with them and even though she was a good help he never said thanks. Sam and Cas did but that wasn’t enough.

As sick and twisted as it was, she was in love with Dean. She truly had no good reason for it. He hated her and definitely did not share the same feelings. She kept these feelings hidden away. Away from Sam and Cas, knowing that they would never understand. She would never admit this to anyone, especially Dean. But 13 years on the road with them she came to the realization and fear that she wouldn’t have to. A mind reader. What kind of sick joke was this?

The mind reader stood in the room with them as they all prepared to kill it in some way. It laughed or he laughed and walked towards them, Y/N took a huge step back but he kept stepping towards her. “Get away from her!” Sam yelled but he ignored him. “W-What d-do you want?” Y/N asked, shaking. She was scared for her life and not because this thing could see her darkest secrets, it might kill her. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek. She was in disgust but too scared to show it. He closed his eyes for a moment, reading into her mind before opening them again. “You’ve kept that for so many years.” He said with pity. Her eyes widened as she realized what he might be talking about. “Kept what?” Cas asked. She shook with fear now for two things.

The mind reader could tell that she didn’t want the secret out. He stepped away from her and her body relaxed. “Just a little crush or should I say a big one? In love with the enemy.” The mind reader looked at Dean who wasn’t catching on. “Who cares who she’s in love with? What’s this got to do with why you’re here?” Dean asked. At the same time Cas asked, “The enemy?” Sam stayed silent. “I’m not here for anything but some fun.” The Mind Reader laughed but the others didn’t. It wasn’t funny. “Please.” Y/N whispered. He could kidnap her or torture her but she begged silently that he wouldn’t reveal the secret that she kept in her heart all these years.

“We aren’t children, we don't want your fun.” Dean growled. The mind reader shook his head and gave her a pity look. “Not everyone is smart about loving someone. We don’t all make the right choice.” She looked away from him as she kept telling herself that maybe the mind reader wouldn’t reveal it. “I’m sorry did you not hear me?” Dean asked and stepped forward. The Mind Reader looked at him and smirked, “I think it’s you who didn’t hear me.” Y/N wanted to cry.

She wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She couldn’t believe the big secret she kept was about to be revealed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean was confused and maybe it was best he stayed that way. The Mind Reader smirked at him and looked at Y/N who was red in the face. “You can hate someone while they love you.” Sam looked at Y/N who was looking anywhere but them. Sam was the first to catch on in this sick joke. “Dean, don’t play coy. You know what I’m talking about.” Dean looked over at his brother who was staring at Y/N.

Y/N was red in the face and that’s when he realized. “Ding Ding Ding.” He looked back at the mind reader. “She’s in love with you but you can’t stand the thought of her or is that just what you tell yourself?” Dean wasn’t having any of this. “You’re going to tell us what you want or we will kill you.” Dean said to him. “I already told you.” Y/N looked at the mind reader with so much anger. She walked up to him and stabbed him with the knife but not in a place that could kill him. “My arm you bitch.” He growled but Dean finished the job. Without looking in his direction she walked away and out of the room. 

It was days later that anything would come about what was revealed. Sam nor Cas said anything about it. Dean sat in thought about it just like Y/N. She was in love with him? He couldn’t understand why. He was an asshole to her and always has been so why would she love him? He walked out of his room to see her in the kitchen making food. She looked tired, hell they all did. Sleep never came to them when needed. Sam was still in his room and Cas was somewhere else. Dean stood as he watched her make eggs.

She wasn’t aware that he was there watching her. She moved the eggs to a plate and grabbed the toast from the toaster. She took the plate to the kitchen table and began eating. She looked at Dean but said nothing. Dean walked into the kitchen and sighed. They had to talk about it, eventually. “So the mind reader just told us one of your darkest secrets and you aren’t going to say anything about it?” She almost choked on her food. “What’s to say Dean?” She asked without turning to look at him.

“A lot actually. I have been nothing but an asshole to you and yet you love me?” She nodded her head. What poor excuse could she make? “I can’t make sense of that at all.” Nor could she. “I mean years, you’ve felt this way for years?” She stood up and turned to him. “I’m aware it’s ridiculous Dean. I don’t need you to point it out.” She yelled. She just wanted to eat her food in peace. “There’s no excuse or anything that I can make for it.” She finishes. She grabs her plate to take it to her room. “Wait.” Dean says and she turns to him. “I’m sorry about the past 13 years. You don’t deserve that and I certainly don’t deserve your love.” She nodded her head and walked to her room to finish eating. 

The house was silent for a while. No new cases or anything like that. Y/N tried to avoid Dean the best that she could but knew that she couldn’t do it forever. They established what had happened and it’s done. Dean felt completely different about it. He never realized it but he wasn’t the nicest person to her and the fact that she was in love with him made him realize how truly horrible he had been to her.

Her room was next to his and never once did he think that anytime he could hear her cry it was about him. How awful he was and yet she loved him. Sam always got on his case about treating her differently but he could tell that not even Sam knew this. Dean heard noise in the kitchen and thought it was Sam. Sam who just went to bed was not the one in the kitchen, it was Y/N. She grabbed a bag of cheetos and sat at the table on her phone.

She looked up as she saw Dean. She looked back down at her phone, making him sigh. “I’m not done with this situation.” He said and sat across from her. “Yeah well I am.” She said. “Y/N please just give me something. Why are you in love with me?” She sighed and looked at him, “Dean, why do you care so much?” She asked. “You hate me, remember?” She asked. “I don’t hate you. Before you stabbed the mind reader he was gonna say that I feel the same way.” She laughed and stood up.

“Yeah right Dean. You don’t treat someone like shit if you love them.” She yelled. He stood up, “If you think I treat you like shit why do you love me?” He yelled. “Because Dean I know that you aren’t that way to everyone just the people you don’t like. You’re a caring man and you would die for Sam or Cas. Anyone that you care about.” “That includes you.” She laughed again.

“Right, Dean. Sure whatever.” She said. He walked over to her, “That wasn’t a joke.” She looked up at him, “It was to me.” She said softly. Just like the mind reader he put his hand on her cheek. Though this time she wasn’t disgusted. “I do care about you and I do love you.” He whispered and she closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life getting you to see that.” She looked up at him and his eyes spoke the truth. There wasn’t an ounce of hate in them. His eyes searched hers before he did something he never saw himself doing. He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back surprisingly fast. The kiss was short but sweet. Dean pulled away and placed his forehead on hers. “I will spend my whole life making it up to you.” For the first time in a week she smiled, a genuine happy smile.

[crobones]

I know Evan's love is toxic. He loves his friends so much that, when they divulge how bad they're feeling - about themselves, about the world around them, about whatever situation they're all stuck in - as opposed to processing these feelings and moving through them to learn and grow, he's like "Nope! Nonstarter, you're amazing and we all love you."

He mentioned it on day one. "There's nothing pleasant in rest." It is a survival tactic. Self-preservation in never staying in one place too long.

But the thing about processing emotions fully is you have to kind of just... sit in it. You need to acknowledge how you feel, understand that dealing with it cannot be avoided or rushed, and take a second to just... stew in it. You can't speedrun every issue in life. And you can't mentally look at a feeling, point at it, name it, put it to the side, and move on. That's just sweeping the mess under the rug instead of actually cleaning it up.

He's getting close to actually learning how to process emotions, and you can see that when he talks to Sam. But he experienced feeling good all of one time, and decided he never wanted to feel any of his previous sadness ever again. It's an unfortunate trauma response - you tell a person some shit that happened to you and expect them to compartmentalize it just like you did. "Yeah, I got stabbed, but it's fine. Don't worry about it."

It's K's conversation with Tabby about Evan. But, unfortunately, K saw this behaviour in Evan and decided they could fix it for him. But now they realize that that isn't feasible. You can't clean a person's house for them - it's their personal and intimate space and you don't know where everything goes and what's more important to them. Not to mention, it takes away their agency. They don't get to learn how to deal with shit if you just fix it for them.

That's what Evan's doing. Tape shapes aside, he doesn't clean the emotional bullshit, he dumps it all into boxes, throws a label on it, and puts it neatly on the pile of a thousand other boxes.

And when Jammer, or Sam, or K gets personal and lets him into their house, well. He wants to be useful. He's looking at the mess, thinks it's a non-issue, throws it in a box for them, and starts a pile. But, they shouldn't worry, he can listen to them describe what the mess is, and he'll put a label on the box for them.

Am I making sense? All of this is dismissive asshole behaviour, but they all know it's well intentioned. They do love each other. The first time he experienced a positive interpersonal interaction, he didn't want to give it up.

Now that they're back, he knows the adventure will come to an end, and that terrifies him. But he's been so task-oriented all his life, any time there's emotions to deal with, he boxes it and puts it aside.

I NEED HIM TO TURN HEEL. IF HE WANTS THE ADVENTURE TO GO ON FOREVER, I'M SURE HE COULD EASILY BECOME THE BAD GUY THEY NEED TO STICK AROUND; TO KEEP THE JOURNEY GOING. BREAK THAT FUCKING WELL, EVAN. NO HESITATION, NO EASING THE WORLD INTO IT - SMASH IT TO BITS ON SIGHT. SUBMIT THE WORLD TO CHAOS.

And what has Sam done every time? She's talked some fucking sense into them. And, well. She's already got a direct line to Evan's most intimate self. They've been in each other's head, they've had their souls entwined with one another. He sees her as the best wizard in the world. What better way to stop Evan from diving head first into the role he's always been afraid of becoming, than making him come to heel and to get his shit together?

[transjess]

“Crowley,” Sam says. “I am not marrying you.”

“Just hear me out,” Crowley says, holding his hands up. “This could be good for both of us, right? Just sit your giant arse down and listen to me for a minute.”

Sam glowers, but he’s always been curious, and the desire to know what the hell Crowley is on about wins over his instant dismissal. “You have a minute,” he says, lowering himself into a bunker chair. “One minute.”

“How generous,” Crowley says, but he doesn’t waste any time. “Look, Sam, neither of us wants Abaddon in charge, right? Alone you can’t defeat her, Cassie over there’s about as much use as a dodo, and as much as I hate to say it I’m not entirely confident I can beat her either. Wherever Dean’s buggered off to, he's not helping right now. But united, together, we have a chance.”

“Where the hell does marriage come into this?” Sam interrupts.

Crowley holds up a hand. “Patience, Moose,” he says. “I was getting to that.”

“Get to it faster,” Cas says.

“Down, boy,” Crowley says, unbothered. “Marriage comes into it because a lot of demons are sticklers for tradition, right? The only reason Abaddon has so many dogs in her corner is because they think that because she’s got the better claim to the throne, she’s more powerful - the Lucifer loyalists switched over to her, because she’s the closest they’ve got to him. A Knight is higher up the traditionalist food chain than a crossroads demon, no matter how efficiently Hell runs under my rule. Now, who else has a claim to the throne? Say, one directly related to Lucifer?”

“Me,” Sam says, starting to understand.

“Bingo. The demons loyal to me like the way Hell’s run, and the rest think I don’t have a claim to the throne strong enough to go against Abaddon. Even if they’re not traditionalists themselves, they think Hell will fall back to a more traditional rule, and they don’t want to be on the old girl’s bad side when that happens. But if I was allied with, say, the Boy King of Hell, true vessel of Lucifer? A lot of them would switch sides. And that would be huge.”

“Why marriage?” Cas asks. “Just sign a- a truce, or something.”

“What is marriage if not a contract?” Crowley says, spreading his arms a little and grinning. “A truce that isn’t binding isn’t worth the paper it’s written on, Feathers. And we can’t just be allies in this - full offense, Moose, but you’ve got quite the history of trying to kill me the moment I stop being completely useful to you. I’m not trusting your good word as far as I can throw it, mate. With a contract, I can make it a little more… binding. Historically, marriages have been uniting political allies for hundreds of years - what better nod to the traditionalists among the demon populace than a marriage between the current King of Hell and the destined Boyking? It’s a contract that goes off with a bang. I get to strengthen my position, you get to cash in a little of that Devil clout with any demons you come across - wouldn’t it be easier if they had to obey you? Skip past all that recitation and stabbing and whatnot? Quick and easy exorcisms, all for the low, low price of marrying me. Best of all, this contract wouldn’t even touch your soul. Not that I’d want it, mind you; the thing’s a mess. But regardless, all you have to hand over is… well, your hand. It’s a win-win.”

“You’re insane,” Sam says flatly. Cas hums in consideration.

“You wouldn’t have to take any interest in Hell itself, by the way,” Crowley adds. “I’ll run the whole shebang. Contracts, demon management, soul counts, all of that. You won’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. Just keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing - without the threat of demon usurpation and Abaddon takeover quite so weightily on my mind - and all that’ll be different is a ring on your finger and a ‘til death do us part. I’ll even let you read over the vows before the day. Just so you can make sure I’m not up to anything sinister.”

“You’re always up to something sinister,” Sam says, ignoring Crowley pretending to blush and bat his eyelashes. “I just don’t get your angle on this one. Marriage, of all things.”

“Well it’s not exactly ideal for me either,” Crowley says, rolling his eyes. “As much as I love to rile you up, I’m after a quiet life, no nagging wife telling me to clean up entrails after myself when I get home from work after a long day, etc etc. Though I suppose you’d make a decent little housewife, Samantha, all things considered.”

“Shut up,” Cas says before Sam can. Glad we’re on the same page, Sam thinks wryly.

“Look, Sam,” Crowley says, and he looks so completely serious for a moment that it’s almost startling after the faux-flirty banter. “Just think about it, alright? This could be good for both of us. And don’t worry,” he adds, switching back to flirty, lips curling up at the corner. “I won’t even expect you to consummate the marriage.” He winks, grinning, and then disappears. Cas scowls.

[multiversefanfics]

Sweet Treat

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader Warning: nothing but fluff, maybe a little sexual innuendos, cute obsessive Sam (not creepy, just in love) Summary: You wanted to make cookies, but Sam doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself. Word Count: 1,278

Sam really wasn't one for sweets, well, except for you. Anything you wanted, Sam got it for you, and I do mean anything you wanted. Some would say, Sam was obsessed with you, not too crazy or creepy, he was just in love, and he deserved it and you.

You loved baking, making chocolate candies using molds, you loved cooking as well. Any chance you got to be in the kitchen, you took it. Sam loved your cooking, he often made jokes about how his weight is gonna catch up to him from eating all the delicious food you cooked.

On the menu today was chocolate chip cookies, and of course they were made from scratch. You combed through your homemade cookbook trying to find the recipe your grandmother came up with. You wanted them to taste just like hers, although no matter what you made Sam loved it anyway.

Cooking and baking helped you pass the time while Sam was on missions, you didn’t really know what else to do with your time, you worked from home and to be truthful nothing interested you more than making food. After a few minutes of searching, you finally found it. You placed the recipe on the counter and read off the ingredients you needed.

You had everything, you tied your apron on and got to work, Sam wasn’t home he was on a mission and wasn’t due back until tomorrow evening, so you figured bake some cookies and think about what to make for Sam when he got home.

You went to the oven to preheat it, when suddenly your front door opened. You were confused only a few people had a key and they should all be on the mission. You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the living room, as you rounded the corner you swung your arm back ready to stab whoever it was

“Woah woah, it’s just me.” Sam’s hands flew up to keep the distance between you two.

“What the hell, Sam.” You let out a breath and put your arm down “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

He flashed his gorgeous smile at you and followed you into the kitchen “Mission ended early, figured my girlfriend would be happy to see me, not trying to kill me.”

He looked around the kitchen and saw you had all of your cook books out, he smiled and rubbed his hands together

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you.

You smiled and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, he smiled and pressed soft kisses on your cheek and jaw

“I wanted to try and make my grandma’s famous chocolate chip cookies”

He buried his face in your neck, breathing in deeply, Sam loved your scent, whether you had perfume on or just your natural scent. He was always burying his face in your neck, between your legs, honestly anywhere he could smell you, he even smelled your armpits once. Sam was a silly man, he knew you’d laugh and not be weirded out by his silliness.

“Well, do you want some help?” He pulled back to tie on one of your extra aprons

You looked over at him and nodded. He didn’t help out as much because of being so busy, but when he did it was always an adventure, every time he would walk by you, he would smack your butt, touch your back, back of your arm, something, he just wanted to touch you.

“Okay, can you get the eggs and butter out of the fridge?”

You watched him walk over to the fridge and get out what you asked him to; you loved when Sam helped out, even if he didn’t do it correctly in your opinion, it’s the fact that he wanted to help.

You put the flour, butter, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a mixing bowl. You looked around for the brown sugar and regular sugar, you looked up and saw Sam holding something behind his back.

“Need some brown sugar?” He smirked and peppered your lips with kisses “Oh and I got the actual brown sugar.”

You smiled and took the brown sugar and regular from him, pouring it into the mixing bowl. You mixed everything to together, so it combined evenly. Sam came up behind you wrapping his arms around you once again, this was his way of “helping” along with getting ingredients if you asked, but he mainly held you while you cooked or baked.

“Missed you so much” He buried his face in your neck once more, nuzzling his cheek against neck

“Missed you more, baby.” You smiled and added all the wet ingredients and the chocolate chips to the mixing bowl, turning on the mixer.

Once everything was mixed together, you dumped the dough out onto the flour dusted counter, kneading it and rolling it out. You took a clump of dough rolling it between your hands, Sam put his hands over yours, rolling the dough with you, you smiled and let him help you.

“You are the sweetest, baby.” You looked at him from the corner of your eye, just to see him smile at you

You placed the balls of dough on the cookie sheet, Sam took the sheet and put it in the oven, you had 20 minutes to cuddle and talk about his mission. Sam wasted no time, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the couch. He plopped down and held you in his lap.

“So, how was my baby today?” He rubbed your back, placing a kiss on your temple.

You adjusted yourself on his lap and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck “Well, I prepared our meals for the week, made dinner for tonight and we just made cookies, I missed you, it was a pretty boring day.”

You looked down at Sam and saw he was looking and listening intently, he always made sure he gave you all of his attention, made sure you knew he was listening, and if someone interrupted you, he would shoot them a glare and they’d apologize and stop talking. Sam smiled up at you, taking in all your beauty, even all covered in flour you were beautiful to him. He made sure to tell you every chance he got, when you were getting dressed, he would hype you up the entire you were changing and definitely hyped you up when you were finished.

Sam was the best thing that has ever happened to you, and he knew it, he was cocky about it too, he knew how you felt about him and that you would do anything for him, and he would do the same.

“How was your mission?” You rubbed the back of his neck, watching him let out a breath

“Hard, but easy. We got our asses handed to us though, but I was just ready to come home to you.” He held you tighter, kissing your cheek.

The timer on the oven beeped, Sam picked you up, carrying you into the kitchen, you giggled and held on to him. He set you down, put on the oven mitt and took the cookies out of the oven, he placed them on the counter and smiled over at you

“They look amazing, baby and so do you” He wrapped his arms around you once again.

You smiled and melted into his touch, he swayed you slightly holding you close to him. Everything was perfect, you had the man, your cookies looked and tasted amazing, what more could you ask for.

A/N: Alright, I really like this one, I hope you guys like it too. If you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰

Main Masterlist - Sam Wilson Masterlist

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @kjah97 @sleepysongbirdsings @samfreakingwinchester @iwudbutnah

[mentally-a-tree]

Warning: Anything you say can and will remind me of supernatural.

I HOPE YOUR APPLE PIE WAS FRICKING WORTH IT!

You gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern.

Noboby in the history of torture has been tortured with the torture like the torture you're going to be tortured with.

Suck dirt and die, Rufus.

I wish I didn't feel a damn thing.

Do I look like a ditch-able prom date to you?

Family don't end in blood, boy.

And I You, Sam.. the boy with the demon blood.

He's baby driver.

I've got... genital herpes.

You're not doctor sexy!

Close encounter, close encounter!

...Nipples?

Fight the fries! You fight those fries, Sammy. FIGHT THE FARIES!

Did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?

You exploded Jofyel. Or did Jofyel explode himself?

I'm back, baby!

They ate my tailor!

You don't know what it's like to be human!

I just want to be loved. I deserve to he loved!

House rules Sammy, driver pick the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to castiel to get his feathery ass down here.

I need you... I need you Cass.

I've always wanted to punch the devil in the face.

We've got work to do.

Balls!

Idgits.

Pudding!

I'll interrogate the cat.

Well, that's great, because without your powers, you're basically just a baby in a trench coat.

You really gotta stop calling yourself the- meat man.. it doesn't mean what you think it does.

...it was yummy.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.... That was scary.

Dean, what do you think you're doing? This is a very serious investigation. We don't have any time for your blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. BLAH!

I'm so proud of us.

I lost my shoe.

Don't you dare think that for a second that there is anything in this world that I would trade you for.

Well... maybe you are crazy. Well, you were crazy before, but maybe you finally cracked.

Son of a bitch!

Well, of course I was manipulating you.

Ready to play a game, bitches?

Hey, bitches.

I like your hair, it's so... bouncy. Why, thank you. Do we have to fix him? Rowena. Oh, Samuel.

Here, play with this.

I torture my friends, it's how I show affection.

Mr. Fizzles can tell when you're being a liarrr. Mr. Fizzles is gonna go where the sun don't shine!

My people used to worship a rock in the shape of a penis.

I'm two...twenty...two... I'm twenty-two.

I watch the bees.

He showed up on my car. Naked. Covered in bees.

Dude, you fugly.

Ugh, you bitch! Oh, my. Looks like someone owes a nickle to the swear jar. You know, when I feel like swearing, I say fudge. Yeah, I'll try to remember that. *two seconds later* You fudging touch me again, I'll fudging kill you!

You shot me.

I killed Hitler.

Jesus Christ! No, I'm Castiel.

I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

I'm not supposed to laugh, right?

Hey, do you hear that bomb..?

I need to check your temperature. Nope. That's not happening.

I need you to let me touch it.

Oh you shake it up, baby.

Are we talking about... the sex?

Did you kiss him? What!? Just wondering..... NO! *cough cough* Why'd you take a picture? Why'd you use tongue?

Give me the baby before I stab you in the neck.

Yeah, well, people might not be too happy when he turns Asian.

He was my gay thing.