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19catsncounting · 3 months ago

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I Got Really Into Anti/Proship Discourse And Read +30 Academic Studies - My Findings

(It’s a Yapfest but the whole post is a very long essay and study on morality and fiction and children’s safety and rape culture with a fuckton of freely accessible academic articles and resources on the subject, and I want to talk to other people about it. For a shorter abstract with all the articles and more easily ignored yapping, see my shiny new Carrd:)

It’s been a little shocking lately to have certain discussions with some parts of fandom. I spoke about shipping/harassment and how that contributes to the death of fandom on TikTok assuming that younger folks are just really, really intense about preventing sexual violence, but the more I saw the words “morally wrong” and “disgusting” and “addiction,” the more I thought about this guy-

That’s Jerry Falwell, and I fucking hate this dead guy. You see, Jerry Falwell was a preacher who hated porn, feminism, and homosexuality. And I'm seeing his rhetoric and reworked quotes a lot.

Jerry would say stuff like:

“Pornography hurts anyone who reads it - garbage in, garbage out.”

“Someone must not be afraid to say ‘moral perversion is wrong.’ If we do not act now, homosexuals will ‘own’ America!”

Jerry wanted people to believe that it’s possible to see so much sexual content that it warps your sexuality, because he was gay and wanted to think that was due to thinking about gay sex too much. Jerry did not have a lot of evidence to prove that homosexuality was harmful, so he relied heavily on how “morally distasteful” it seemed to be to suburban Americans.

I spent the majority of my teen years arguing against Jerry’s rhetoric for the right to live as a lesbian online, and I never thought I’d see morality rhetoric in people I’m otherwise very politically aligned with. And I definitely never thought fandom of all things, in all its beautiful subversive glory, would seriously start advocating for censorship, anti-porn, and to consume fanwork with moral purity.

So, I’d like to have a deeper discussion on it, both here on Tumblr and on TikTok, but that does mean checking a few things at the door:

Personal feelings decide your personal life. What you feel is valid for you, not anyone else.

In general, things that do not cause direct and undeniable harm should not be broadly prohibited just because they’re weird or distasteful to the majority of folks. Ex. Loitering does not cause harm and is a tool of systemic oppression.

The discussion of “fictional CSEM” is the most inflammatory fork of this and it is often used to derail these kinds of conversations. This is all I will say on it - the legal status of explicit visual depictions of minors is muddy. In the US, there is just one dude in Utah who pled guilty for possessing explicit lolicon he bought by mail order without also possessing CSEM with real children, and explicit writing about fictional minors has been settled as protected free speech. Dedicated organizations from the NCMEC to Chris Hansen have asked that fictional content is not reported as CSAM as it is not actionable and clogs up finite resources. 90% of NCMEC reports were not actionable last year. There are studies suggesting that virtual CSEM or other non-victim alternatives could reduce actual child harm, but there is need for further research.

We’re all in agreement that untagged NSFW is not cool, and kids deserve kid-only sections of the internet. People who are triggered by or dislike problematic content deserve to be able to not see it. 👍

(I’ve seen the argument that blocking tags/people should not be required - sorry, PTSD still requires that you manage your triggers, up to and including swearing off platforms just as I have sworn off bars/soap brands/etc to avoid my triggers.)

I have found a lot of accessible and free articles and studies that I will link throughout so that we can discuss the fact-based reasoning, in an effort to have a civil conversation.

(Also because we are not flat earthers, we are Fandom, and if we’re going to be annoying little shitheels in an “Um Actually” contest, we’re going to have the sources to back it up.)

Minors and Explicit Material

I’m not supporting minors engaging with explicit material. I have such little interest in the subject that I’m not even going to bring in articles, but you can feel free to. I personally engaged with explicit material as a preteen of my own free will and did not find it to be harmful, and the majority of people throughout human history have been exposed to explicit material at an early age with varying degrees of harm. There are undeniable legal and harm-driven differences between a 12 year old girl looking at Hustler on her own, a 14 year old boy being sent nudes from a grown woman, and a 6 year old viewing PornHub. (And I think the guardians of that 6 year old should be charged with grooming just like the woman, tbh.)

Personal Disclaimer

I’m an adult survivor of CSA and incest. I’m a happily married adult. I don’t personally like lolicon/shotacon/kodocon. I don’t like kids. I don’t like teens. I’m personally not attracted to underage fictional characters. I have family, the idea of fucking any of them makes me want to throw up and die, so I don’t write or read RPF of my family.

I am really, really fucking intense about preventing sexual violence, supporting survivors, and fandom, which is where this all comes from.

I read and love problematic fiction - my favorites are ASOIAF, Lolita, and VC Andrews. The most “problematic” thing I’ve personally written are Lucifer/Michael fics from Supernatural back in 2012. They are “brothers” in CW Christ, not blood. They do not have any blood.

Gen Z and Online Grooming

In 2002, a survey of 1500 minors from 10-17 found that 4% had been solicited for sexual purposes by an adult online.

In 2023, that number increased to 20%.

While the linked 2023 Thorn report suggests that the vast majority of these inappropriate interactions happened on platforms that allow for interpersonal communication, which by and large minors were greatly discouraged from and had less access to in the early 2000’s, a trauma-informed approach does not allow for blame to fall on the children. The guardians of those children have monumentally failed to restrict and educate before giving children the means to access those platforms.

It is my uncited but personal opinion that the increased rate of grooming, as well as an increased interest in combating rape culture, has led to well-intentioned individuals to become digital vigilantes attacking those who they hold responsible for their traumatic experiences in a search for catharsis and justice denied for themselves as well as a desire to make the internet safer for other children, whom they are increasingly aware are entering online spaces unsupervised at distressingly young ages.

Is harassment and bullying bad for perpetrators of it?

Before we get into how ship-related hate campaigns do not affect predation or combat rape culture, we should acknowledge that it’s actually pretty harmful for the people who cyberbully. Not just in the legal/social consequences, but people who participate in cyberbullying and cyberhate campaigns have higher rates of depression, estrangement from their parents, self-effacing habits, social anxiety, lower empathy, and so forth.

One study suggests that the treatment and prohibitive for cyberbullying, which contributes to a culture of cyberhate and a lower likelihood to report or confront other incidents of harassment or toxicity online, can be combatted with media competency to increase empathy along with other important life skills.

Some Common Pro-Censorship Myths

“Pornography is Addictive/Consumption of Pornography Leads to Increasingly Hardcore Imagery And Ultimately Real-World Violence” - The American Psychological Association does not recognize Porn Addiction as real and the DSM-5 does not classify it as an addiction. Additionally, many methods used in articles claiming that porn is addictive or causes users to seek out more hardcore material were flawed or biased. There is actually some evidence that compulsive porn use, the closest you can get to a porn addiction diagnosis, is associated with shame and the user’s belief that pornography is morally wrong, which sex-negative attitudes encourage.

“Jaws caused shark culling” - That's unfortunately a simplification that ignores a LOT of surrounding context. WW2’s modern naval battles with an increase of ship sinkings and thus contact with sharks prompted the invention and use of shark repellant by aviators and sailors in the 1940’s. The most deadly and famous shark attack of all time was the USS Indianapolis sinking in 1945, which led to 12-150 deaths. The 1974 book Jaws by Peter Benchley, which was the entire basis of the movie, was inspired by One Fucking Dude who started shark hunting tours and overall seemed to have a really immaculate vibe. The interstate highways that finished in the 1950’s increased beach tourism in the 60’s and onwards, inspiring the American surf culture, further increasing the cultural desire to purge sharks for the new swath of beachgoers and their fondness for using surfboards which make them look like seals to sharks. Additionally, 1975’s Jaws inspired a huge desire for education about sharks, and the relationship between problematic media and education will be the core of this yapperoni pizza.

“The Slendermen Killings/Other Fiction Inspired Crimes” - The ACLU states that “There is no evidence that fiction has ever driven a sane person to violence.” Inspired crimes are indeed no less tragic, and thankfully rare, but people who suffer from inability to discern reality and fiction do not necessarily need fiction to commit violence. The “Son of Sam” murder spree was not inspired by a book or movie, but instead Berkowitz’ auditory hallucinations.

“Violent videogames DO cause violence” - After a great deal of funding and study, the American Psychological Association has concluded that teens and younger may have increased feelings of aggression and not necessarily physically violent outbursts as a direct effect, but older teens and young adults do not encounter statistically meaningful rates of aggression.

“Your brain can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality” - Factually incorrect. Children as young as 5 years old can tell the difference, and they can even be more suspicious about “facts” that come from sources they know also host fiction, such as TV shows.

“This stuff shouldn’t be online because it can be used to groom a child” - While I could not find specific statistics on how often pornography is used to desensitize child victims, nor how often that is specifically used in online grooming, and especially not how much of that pornography is made from fictional characters - out of a mixed group of convicted offenders with adult and child victims, 55% of offenders used pornography to manipulate their victim. I would never refute that explicit fanart or fanfic could be used to desensitize a child, but that is by far not the only tool (asking about sexual experiences/identity, making jokes, etc is extremely common grooming behavior), and there is no evidence to suggest that it is used to a statistically significant degree. In my own anecdotal experience, normal vanilla legal pornography is used with far greater prevalence, and there isn’t a similar movement to shame its production for that possibility. Nor should the creators of any material, pornographic or otherwise, share blame in the actions of a predator.

The Fiction Affects Reality Carrd

(No hate to the person who made it, in fact I give props to them for trying to find unbiased sources, I just want to point out that their interpretations of their articles are kinda flawed and one of their studies is a kind of a perfect example on small and culturally biased samples.)

Reading Fiction Impacts Aggressive Behavior - (I cannot access the full study but this article is the primary source used in the Carrd and it goes into detail) - A study showed that 67 university students were more annoyed with a loud buzzer after reading a short story about a physical fight between roommates compared to a story with nonviolent revenge. However, this study was conducted at Brigham Young University, the same campus where we got a whole video series of hot ethical takes like “I’d rather shoot a kitten than drink coffee,” so uh. Yeah. Kind of a prime example on why it’s important to have large and culturally varied sampling. (Another BYU study with 137 BYU students being odd about moral ambiguity in fiction, just because I’m starting to add Dr. Sarah M. Coyne to my list of “Sarah’s That I Dislike.”)

Your Brain on Fiction - a NYT article that describes Theory of the Mind and how fMRIs captured how readers’ minds would light up centers of muscle control when reading sentences like “Peter kicked.” The quote “The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life; in each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated” is speaking of motor functions. Emotional centers of the brain were not included in the study.

How Fiction Changes Your World - a Boston Globe article that actually describes how people who read more fiction are more empathetic and tend to believe in a just world. It does not state that the empathy a reader feels for fictional characters extends to corrupting their moral compass. In fact, there’s such a thing as a “fictive license” to explore taboo themes more thoroughly because it is not real - 123 participants were interviewed after watching two actors play the part of detective and murderer being interviewed, and participants who were told it was fake had more varied and inquisitive responses.

The Social Impact of Books - Actually reuses the previous study about the just world, so point remains. Empathy is understanding, not mirroring.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Survivors of Trauma?

It absolutely depends on the individual.

Writing expressively about traumatic experiences has been shown to be effective to reduce depression, or more effective in reducing dysphoria and anxiety than talking to fellow survivors, and Written Exposure Therapy is broadly prescribed to survivors of trauma, with one study centering on car crash survivors finding that WET resolved their PTSD symptoms and continued to be effective after a year.

In this study, which sadly is not available online but it is too important to leave out completely, survivors of CSA were given fictional novels about CSA and in closely reading and analyzing those stories, were able to understand their own experiences and were indeed drawn to write about their own experiences as well.

Engaging in problematic fiction, like all fiction, allows for consent as well as control. If at any point a survivor does not feel in control or wishes to stop, they can at that instant. They can even rewrite their narratives and take control of their story in fictionalizing and changing the account. They can even try to understand what their abuser felt through fiction, which is helpful considering that the vast majority of survivors had a relationship that had been positive and even loving with their abusers at times.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Everyone Else?

It again depends on the individual.

Antis might be a little right that most people don't want to read problematic stories. In a study exploring whether fiction can corrode morals, 83% of study participants stated that they would prefer not to read a short story justifying baby murder if they had the choice, even if that exploration isn’t inherently harmful.

This very small sample study of 13 participants discussed how young women interpreted sexual themes in writing, including explicit fanfiction, and how that was beneficial and informative to explore sexual desire and examine healthy and unhealthy relationships in a safe and controlled environment.

This meta-analysis further discusses how problematic and sexual themes in YA literature are useful to illustrate what sexual violence looks like, and begin educational conversations through those depictions to break down harmful myths such as “if she didn’t scream, she wanted it.”

Empowered by the “Fictive License” previously cited, problematic fiction can be beneficial for anyone who desires and is capable of consuming and analyzing it.

This study analyzing abusive aspects of three films - Beauty and the Beast, Twilight, and 50 Shades of Gray - concluded that these abusive themes should be discussed to increase recognition and awareness, not censored based on those problematic themes.

This study of 53 women were asked to read different versions of fictional intimate partner violence flags, or “toxic behavior” like surveillance, control, etc. In every version of the story, whether the female or male had those behaviors either courting or committed, the women recognized the behavior as wrong.

Another study that reading allows for the moral laboratory to explore morality in fiction without decisive impact to corroding moral permissibility.

Is There Ever Any Point Where Fictional Interests Definitively Speak On Someone’s Morality?

In short - not really. Loving Jason Vorhees does not put you at risk of murdering campers as long as you know he’s not real. Writing Wincest does not mean you look forward to family reunions, as long as you know incest isn’t okay in the real world. The real world, where real people are harmed, is where you find the measure of someone’s character.

This Psychology Today article is the best source I could find for quotes from a fantastic book ‘Who's Been Sleeping in Your Head? The Secret World of Sexual Fantasies’ by Brett Kahr regarding taboo sexual fantasies and how they are not only common, but not inherently harmful.

There are people who enjoy problematic media in an entirely nonsexual sense, of course. I myself don’t get off on problematic media - I think it’s just interesting to explore different experiences, and I think that can be revolutionary.

Additionally, fantasies in general have almost always been in the vein of “things you don’t want to really happen in reality.” In a study of 351 asexuals, more than half reported that they fantasize about having sex, but that doesn’t mean that they actually want to. You can fantasize about dating Billie Eilish - it doesn’t mean that you’d be happy dealing with celebrity culture.

(I personally fantasize about the internet being just for adults, but in practice I think that would be incredibly harmful and isolating for at-risk youth and LGBTQ teens) Fantasies always pluck out only the bits of reality that you want to engage with.

If You Get Off On Fictional Kids, You’re Attracted to Something About Them Being Kids

Not inherently, surprisingly. Wearing a schoolgirl uniform is a pretty common roleplay, and it’s not meant to “fool” the participants into thinking they’re indulging in pedophilia. There’s a wealth of emotional and sexual nuance in that specific kink - innocence and virginity play, tilted power dynamics in ‘scolding’ the uniform wearer for dress code violations, even the concept of a sexually provocative “teenager” can be played with without shame, because the world of fetish and fantasy is separated from condonable actions for the vast, vast majority of adults. (The only study I could find on this is this small study of 100 white guys found on Facebook, which itself states it is not definitive, found that while there might be correlation between attraction to children and interest in schoolgirl uniforms, there is no proof of causation. AKA, the rectangular pedophile might indeed like square schoolgirl uniforms, but not everyone - in fact, the majority at nearly 60% in this very survey - that likes square schoolgirl uniforms is a rectangular pedophile.)

Even sexual age play between adults is not indicative of pedophilia because it exists in a setting between two adults who fully understand that the mechanics are completely fake, allowing the power dynamics that would be abusive between an adult and child to be ethically explored.

I don’t have an official-looking study to cite, but I have asked people who like content about underage fictional characters why they do so. Overwhelmingly, a lot of the ones who like underage age gaps like the fantasy of an older and more experienced character taking a younger one under their wing, to have the opportunity to commit violent and blatantly objectifying harm and yet try to create what inevitably does not truly pass as consent, but seems near enough to the characters. Some think that the characters themselves have an interesting chemistry. Some read underage fic and still imagine the characters as adults. Some like to explore the feelings of shame that the older character must feel and how they mentally compartmentalize to go forward with the relationship, and how the younger character found themself in that vulnerable position - which is exploring a harmful situation through fiction to understand how it could play out in real life.

People who like fictional incest like exploring the shameful components of that taboo relationship - and I have seen a lot of works that compare how bad incest could be to other harms, like the Gravecest route in a game with parental cannibalism. And then there are folks who like analyzing the codependency of having one person fulfill every social need - family, friend, lover, AKA Wincest.

What makes a predator if it’s not just sexual attraction?

90% of CSA survivors know their abuser, discrediting the still-entirely-too-popular Stranger Danger myth. And shockingly, only 50% of abusers are pedophiles.

That means 50% of child molesters do not have sexual interest in children because they are children, but they victimized children because they are more accessible in lieu of adult partners, with increased rates of incest.

While I could not find a specific study on the relation between dehumanization/objectification of child victims and child molesters (and if you find one, please send it to me!), this study speaks on dehumanization as a precursor to adult sexual violence.

This study, conducted on convicted child molesters in prison, showed that child molesters tend to fantasize about children while in a negative mood, further contributing to the theory that child victims are dehumanized prior to abuse.

This very small sample study found that in a mixed sample of internet only/contact crime/mixed offenders, offenders who had contact with children had lower rates of fantasizing about children.

In short, half the time a child predator is someone who wants to offend against a child regardless of attraction to the fact they are a child.

Resources To Recognize Grooming/Abuse Victims/Predators

I would absolutely be remiss to not share my collection of resources to help detect signs of abuse/grooming as well as warning signs of a predator who may be targeting elders/women/teens/children:

Darkness 2 Light is a fantastic resource overall, this page details stages and signs of grooming.

RAINN personally helped me through my PTSD journey, and this article detailing the signs of sexual trauma in teenagers is thorough and non-judgemental

Signs of abuse as well as warning signs of predation that does not use gendered language nor play into the Stranger Danger myth.

Education, not Censorship

I think a lot of the energy against taboo content among young people still has a lot to do with the desire to end rape culture. The tools that we Millennial Tumblrinas gave you Gen Z kids were snatches of leftist theory, deplatforming, and voting with your dollar, so it’s reasonable to think that removing taboo content like pedophilia, incest, rape fights rape culture.

It doesn’t.

Rape culture is fought by education. Comprehensive sex education, education about consent. Talking about what consent looks like, what sex can look like, what rape can look like.

There should be more taboo content to talk about these things, to show all the shades it can look like. From a violent noncon to fics that aren’t even tagged as dubcon yet still are in shades that are hard to suss out, we should talk about it.

A Non-Empirical Example Of Good Media Analysis and Education to Combat Rape Culture

Let’s use the example of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen’s relationship in House of the Dragon. Canonically, in both the book and the show, they have a romantic relationship that appears for the most part to be positive (the show being more contentious but I dedicated an aside to Sarah Hess and our beef at the bottom of my Carrd, but feel free to ask how I feel about writing producers with any variation of the name ‘Sarah’) despite an age gap, a sexual relationship that began while Rhaenyra was a minor, and incest - the problematic hat trick if you will.

I have seen anti-Daemyra shippers condemn Daemyra shippers for “Condoning grooming, age gaps, pedophilia, and incest.” Which is not just a broad, inaccurate, and harmful statement, it’s not at all constructive or educational analysis.

It would actually be beneficial to say “Daemon is grooming Rhaenyra as a teenager with gifts, devoted attention that takes advantage of her isolation and vulnerability, frequent nonsexual touches, the extreme desensitization to sexuality in the brothel visit,” etc etc. And even so, it is not useful to say that people cannot still ship the relationship and acknowledge those aspects. They might want to further explore the issues of consent in their dynamic in fiction, they may want to strip away some of them with narrative reimagining. Some might want to ignore the taboos completely and indulge in the fantasy entirely, and some might find the actors hot as hell - AKA, anyone who watches the show.

It’s honestly a little similar to me in how Jerry Falwell would tell his followers not to watch or read or take in any media that dealt with homosexuality unless it was condemning it - even Will & Grace was on Jerry’s shitlist. And so, Jerry’s followers missed out on a lot of media that could have educated them about queerness, could have humanized queer people for them - and that did not make queers go away. Just like ignoring or shutting out media about incest, rape, and other forms of sexual violence doesn’t make those things go away - it just tends to make you less informed, and little less capable of empathy towards people affected by those subjects.

So let’s stop shaming those that ship a complicated dynamic - you get less fanworks exploring those taboos, and less of a discussion overall. You shut down the morality lab of fiction, and to be honest, it’s wet sock behavior.

Some FanFiction Specific Studies

How dubcon fanfiction can flesh out the intricacies and messiness of realistic consent

A review of darkfic written about Harry Potter in 2005 (which, I will personally attest has never been outdone in how profoundly taboo those works were)

Interviews with 11 Self Insert writers who wrote on themes of rape, abuse, control, yandere, etc, and how that was beneficial to some who had experienced sexual violence themselves

Conclusion:

H…holy shit, you actually read all of that?? Congrats dude! That is a lot of time and brain power to dedicate to any one thing!

By the way, I am not really gifted at writing articles or any of that junk, and I tried to make my hyperlexic ass a little more accessible instead of bringing out all the $5 words. I am literally just an autistic who took a couple technical writing classes over a decade ago and really wanted to sort out my thoughts and try to have a platform for discussion. Also, I am really fucking bad at math. I failed two different college level statistics classes twice each. Gun to my head, I could not tell you what a standard deviation is, which is why I worked entirely with the percentages.

And I do want to have a discussion! I would in fact like to not report anyone for sending me gore or death threats or any of that stuff! I don’t think everyone will agree with me, in fact I’m certain that you could find studies that contradict some of mine, and I’d love to discuss them!

I’m sure it will still be tempting to throw around accusations of pedophilia because sometimes, confronting your previously held beliefs is incredibly uncomfortable. If you could not do that, that would be great? I don’t like being compared to someone who profoundly abused me just because I have a different opinion on how to combat rape culture and empower survivors. If you can do that, I’ll do my absolute best to be cheerful and welcoming and respectful as well. 😁

PS - I’m also not really going to be phased if you call me weird or cringe - I am. Always have been. Cringe, weirdness, and autism have made me do and capable of doing some fantastically neat and impressive stuff. But if you try to say something like “proshippers are too yucky and weird to be in fandom” - I’m going to have to refer you to your similarity to Kate Sanders of Lizzy McGuire fame, you “prEpz >:(“ - [My Immortal, legendary author unknown]

#disc horse #fandom discourse #fandom problems #fandom culture #proshipping #anti censorship #anti anti

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ultravi0lence14 · 2 months ago

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Witchy Woo

sam winchester x witch!reader

2k | fluff, slight angst, fem pronouns

summary: calling on their witch friend to help with a case, sam might get a lot more than he bargained for when he fears she’s gotten hurt.

warnings: choking, moderate level of violence

your relationship with the winchesters had started rocky, to say it lightly.

you were a witch, born in a long lineage of wiccan’s who used their powers for evil, subsequently getting killed by hunters in the process. you, on the other hand, weren’t like that. your mom tried to get you to see the family craft, to see what your legacy was, but you just couldn’t.

there was already enough bad in the world, why be one of the people enabling it when you could help do good and get rid of it?

at first, the winchesters didn’t see that so easily. they were raised on the pretences that if something was of supernatural being, then you kill it. so when they showed up in your home town investigating a case, you were the first suspect on their list.

the two men came barging into your home, spewing non sense about how you were hexing town residents and that they had the bullets to end your magical killing spree. you were confused, as you would never kill people and actually were great friends with some of victims found dead by a witches hand.

after semi convincing them that you were good, you helped the winchester boys track down the real culprit — with a lot of grumbling from dean in the process. turns out, it was valerie edmonds. the middle aged divorcee who lived down the street from your house. if you were being honest, you were quite surprised she was a witch, for she never gave you that vibe in the slightest.

since then, the winchester’s have called you if they needed a specific type of magical help on a case. it took a lot of time and work for them to fully grasp that you meant no harm. but when it stuck, you were practically apart of the team.

now, as you drove into the parking lot of some dingy motel, trying to spot out the winchester’s room number, you think back onto how you guys met. how everything that has happened since then has felt so surreal to you.

you helped people in your town, but never on a bigger scale like sam and dean did. it felt nice, finally being able to feel like you are really making a difference in the world.

barley lifting your hand from knocking on the wooden door, the hinges creaked as non other than dean winchester swung it open, giving you a tight lipped smile as he let you into the motel room. sam was sat at a small wooden table, hunched over with his eyes glued to his computer screen, reading some article he found on this cases lore.

you were slightly new to what a hunter’s day to day life was, for you had only met the winchester boys shy of a year ago. you’d assume, the half eaten pizza boxes and multiple beer bottles littered on the floor was an accustom to the lifestyle

those weren’t your only thoughts as you stepped through the threshold. your eyes couldn’t help but latch onto sam’s hunched figure, face drawn into concentration as he searched and searched for anything on this vengeful spirit they were after.

ever since you had gotten slightly acquainted with the two, you couldn’t help but harbour a slight crush towards the younger of the brothers. he was so soft spoken, sweet in how he treated victims families or anyone in general. how could you not fall in love with him?

the bed springs squeaked as you sat on mattress, dean moving to sit at the table with sam. as you sat your bag beside you, dean broke the somewhat awkward silence in the room. “let’s just cut to the chase already. Y/N, we need your witchy ass for this case.” sam finally looked up from his computer, turning your way and smiling at your form, making a light blush dust your cheeks as you smiled back.

“what do you need help with? is there any spell or ingredients i need to look for?” the look on dean’s face was juxtaposing what you expected his reaction to be. he looked almost guilty, like what he was about to say was not going to be something you’d like.

scratching the back of his neck, dean opened up about what plan he had already devised. “well, it looks like the spirit we are hunting is going after witches. so i thought that maybe you, i don’t know, lure it out?” your face was passive, not really knowing what to think. dean didn’t specify what you would be doing this certain hunt. but to his knowledge, you could easily hold yourself against an angry ghost, so you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

sam, on the other hand, was not having a second of what his brother was suggesting.

“no,” he stated, shutting his laptop almost to make a point. “absolutely not. we are not putting her in danger.” his eyes kept glancing back to you, almost as if the mere mention of you luring out the ghost was getting you killed.

standing from the bed, you walked over to sam and put your hand on his shoulder, getting him to turn his head and stare up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen. if you were being honest, you almost gave in and agreed with sam right then and there.

but you held your ground, smiling at him as dean looked incredulously between you two. “sam,” you started. “i will be fine. i have handled worse, and you and dean will be there if something goes wrong.” this made him relax slightly, looking over to his brother before grabbing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it.

“that’s settled.” said dean, getting up from the chair and moving towards his duffle bag. “we leave for the club this ghost hunts at in fifteen.”

walking towards your bag, you turned to dean with your hands on shoulders. “one thing though. you two aren’t putting me in some shitty ideal of what clothes witches wear. got it?”

“i can’t believe we agreed to let you wear those poser clothes.” dean grumbled, in the drivers seat of baby as you got ready to go into the bar. “this ghost will never believe your a witch in that.” his comment made you laugh, stopping halfway out the car as you turned your body to look at him. “are you forgetting dean that i am the only witch here? i think i would know what the supposed attire is.”

dean huffed as you got out of the impala, giving yourself a once over in your mid length, cloth dress. waving goodbye to the boys as your brown boots shuffled against the gravel of the parking lot. the white of your dress reflecting the sun as sam watched the bar door shut behind you.

he was worried, to put it lightly. he knew you could handle yourself but he never liked you putting yourself in imminent danger. his thoughts were stopped as he looked over to dean, who was giving sam a certain look that had the younger winchester reeling back in confusion.

sighing to himself, dean leaned his arm on the window and looked over at his brother. “dude, she’ll be fine. you are just worried cause you’ve got a fat crush on her.” the shock in sam’s face was enough to make dean laugh, putting the car in drive so that him and sam could go and find the cemetery where the spirit was buried.

“i do not have a crush on her!” sam sounded so exasperated, that an actual bark of laughter left dean. making the older winchester shake his head as he turned out of the parking lot. “whatever you say, sammy.”

on your end of things, you had sat yourself at the bar top, remembering how sam said that the ghost usually strikes after the victim had a couple of drinks in their system. you didn’t want to drink too much, for being tipsy wouldn’t help with stopping the ghost. so you resulted to one margarita, nursing a cup of coke for the rest of the night.

when you got a text from dean on the go ahead, you got up from the stool, paying your tab as you inconspicuously made your way to the alley behind the bar, pacing back and forth as you waited for the ghost to appear.

as you started losing hope in this plan, a force from behind you grabbed your arm and threw you into the nearest wall. groaning on the impact, you looked up to see a ghastly looking woman, ripped dress blowing behind her as she snarled in your direction.

she disappeared to then only reappear right in front of you, grabbing your neck and lifting you against the wall. you struggled to breathe as you waited for the boys to burn her bones. but that didn’t come as fast as you hoped. you were starting to lose consciousness, scratching at the ghosts arms and wishing you brought some iron with you.

a futile attempt to mumble out a spell was crushed as the ghost squeezed tighter, cutting off your airways and making it almost impossible for you to speak.

with your last shreds of consciousness dangling in your hands, you heard a loud shriek as the ghost let go of you, dropping you to the ground and erupting in flames, disappearing forever.

swallowing in deep gasps of air, you got up from the ground and steadied yourself against the wall. slowly walking to where the parking lot was and waiting on the side of the road for dean and sam to pull up in the impala.

when you heard the faint rumble of the comforting car, you looked up to see sam jump out of the passenger seat before dean could even throw it into park. the younger winchester ran over to you, grabbing your arms and inspecting his eyes up and down your frame, making sure you were okay.

“sam, i’m fine.” you laughed as he worriedly brushed some mud off the front of your dress. that only caused him to look up and gasp slightly, bringing his hands to the side of your neck as he turned your head back and forth.

“oh baby, your neck. it’s all bruised.” you hadn’t even looked at the aftermath of the ghosts firm grip on your neck, now not wanting to as the sorrow in sam’s eyes from the mere sight of it made your heart drop.

all you could do was shake your head, holding onto sam’s forearms with your own hands. “i’m fine, sammy. i’m alive, the ghost is gone.” but that didn’t seem to sooth his freaked expression, only being able to hear his quick inhales of breath and the wind blowing around you.

gulping in some air, sam shook his head, speaking his next words in one breath. “i was so scared, i can’t lose you.” sam had barley finished his sentence before his lips crushed to yours, moving his one hand to cup your face and the other to wrap around your waist.

you gasped into his mouth, hands going to the back of his head to grab onto the tuffs of hair at the back of his neck. he was pulling you impossibly closer, almost as if he could mold your body’s together and never let you go.

pulling away, your hands went to the front of his brown carharrt jacket, looking into his eyes with such intensity that a normal person would be inclined to look away. but not sam, he could stare into your eyes forever.

breathing in deeply, sam leaned his face closer to yours. “i told myself if you were okay that i wouldn’t wait anymore. i can’t go another day without being with you, i just can’t.” his words sent tears to your eyes, reaching up so you could properly hug him.

his arms went around your waist, and everything just felt better. sam was yours, and you were his, and everything just felt like it should be. as sam pulled away, he planted a firm kiss on your cheek, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the impala. “cmon, my love, dean’s probably getting impatient.”

watching the two of you walk hand in hand, dean just chuckled to himself, turning so he could throw the car out of park. “fucking finally.”

**can’t lie, i wrote most of this either in class or munching on a rice bowl

#supernatural #imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #sam x reader

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redflagshipwriter · 3 months ago

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Red Hot Ghouls 14 part 1/2

masterpost

“Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!” Danny read mockingly off the burner phone with only one contact. He felt his eyebrow twitch. “What is this guy’s problem?” He got up in a jerky motion and started pacing around his one room apartment like the world’s most broke-ass tiger. It took three steps to get off the rug and onto the 3 tiles in front of his front door. He wheeled on his heel and did it again, and again, and then he forcibly collapsed back onto his couch in a huff. “What a bitch,” Danny complained. He kicked at the cushion. “Where does he get off talking to me like he doesn’t know…”

His voice trailed off as he accidentally had a thought. The thought happened to him entirely against his will. He really hated the thought.

Like. What if, just as a guess. What if he supposed that Jason the hapless performance-art biker tough guy rough guy had not found his secret identity? What if he had just like, gone out to a dark coffeeshop to read a new book? And from his perspective, some weird guy had yelled at him and made a funny face like a pissy toddler?

Shit. Shit, fuck, and damn. Danny groaned. Was Jason just a local??? Had he walked into that place by chance- oh. Holy fucking shit.

“I am the dumbest engineer I know,” Danny marveled. He looked up at the ceiling and sort of wished it would fall in and kill him instantly. “Jeremy is in Arkham. That implies he committed this crime in Gotham. That would imply his victim was from Gotham.”

Honestly… He had kinda just thought that Jeremy was in Arkham because it was convenient for him. But of course not. No one knew he was in Gotham. If Jeremy knew that Danny Phantom was on Gotham he would have been taking out creepy billboards to beg for his attention and damnation or something.

‘So Jason just thinks I am a total weirdo.’

Pain. Pain. Psychic damage. Danny threw his arm over his face and muffled a scream into his forearm, fucking mortified. Why was he so embarrassing?

‘I don’t actually know that this happened in Gotham; Jeremy could have gone outside of city limits for his little ritual. Jason didn’t ask me to take him to Gotham from the GZ,’ Danny clung to in faint hope. ‘Maybe he really did hunt me down. Or maybe he looked up ectobiologists, learned about my family, and just sought out the geographically closest Fenton.’

…Get real. Come on. Jason wasn’t a detective. The straightest line between two points was the most likely path of events.

He unlocked his phone with numb fingers and started searching for any proof that this guy was a Gothamite.

Jason Gotham

A bunch of Linked in profiles, a bunch of articles about rich people, and a flood of bookface profiles. It was a common name.

“That figures,” Danny huffed, feeling a little stupid for thinking that would work. He blew out a long breath. “It’s not like there’s ever just one guy in the world. There’s a billion Dannys out there for chrissake. There’s a Danny in my Econ class.”

Jason Gotham big strong guy

There was a wrestler from Gotham whose agent was named Jason. Danny clicked through the article to look at the photos just in case. No dice. His Jason was built prettier than the agent or the wrestler, Danny thought absently. Oh. He did have something that a wrestler didn’t, though.

Jason Gotham guns

Weirdly, the Linked-in profiles came back up. Danny was baffled and curious enough to read through a couple. “Gotham is such a goddamn place,” he marveled, eyebrows traveling up. “I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about things like…” Then the penny dropped. “Henchmen get hired off Linked-in?” He sat up explicitly so that he could shake his head in disbelief at the state of this city. “Wild.”

Well. The mission was not a success. Danny buried his face in his hands and accidentally smacked himself with the phone still in his hand. He ignored the stinging of his cheekbone to wallow in self-pity. It would heal up fast anyway.

“I think I need to answer his message,” Danny said. He felt real low. He felt like such a silly bastard. “I have to be smart and feel out if he knows I’m Danny.” He paused. “Danny Fenton, not Danny Phantom. Because I introduced myself as Danny Phantom.” Danny groaned. That seemed like an unnecessary clue, now that he really thought about it.

‘I need to avoid Jazz,’ Danny thought grimly. ‘If she sees me, she is going to sense weakness and find out what I did.’

He mulled over his options for a bit, trying to plot a response that would reveal all of Jason’s secrets and also make sense in conversation.

He failed. “I’m not a smart man,” Danny said conversationally, and sent,

You finished all those books already?? You unemployed, dude???

Jason must have been waiting on him. His response was pretty fast.

Self-employed, actually.

#dead on main #dp x dc #dc x dp #red hot ghouls

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tenroses07 · 5 months ago

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My final thoughts on the neil gaiman allegations;

Do I believe the women?: Yes. While I do find it still a bit odd that there’s missing context, I think that’s a fault of the podcast and not the fault of the women. I hope that they come forward to more reputable news sources and give their stories fully soon.

Do I think this is a right wing conspiracy: Yes and no. I do not think all of this is one big lie, but I do think the journalism here is clearly biased and I do not think these women’s stories would’ve been aired if they (the journalists) did not believe there would be any political gain. I do believe that it could be possible that tortoise media is trying to slander those who have worked with him. I do not blame the women for this.

Do I still wish to see more proof?: Of course. I think it’s possible to believe victims while also still wishing to see more proof. It’s important to be critical still, but once again this does not mean that it’s okay to say these women are lying because you haven’t seen proof.

Do I think any fandoms for media he created should interact with him again?: No. He clearly has a record of abusing his position of power, and I do not think any fans should interact with him again for the sake of their own safety. This includes on any social media. If he returns to being online, don’t send asks or react to them. Don’t return power to him.

Do I think anyone who was worked with him is obligated to come out with their reactions immediately?: No. It’s entirely possible the news hasn’t made it to them yet. It’s also entirely possible that they could be still processing things after working personally with him. If we as fans are shocked in disgusted, then imagine how those who have worked with him feel. Do not condemn them for speaking out immediately, they have lives too.

Do I think you can still watch his shows?: I feel mixed about this personally. I think it’s a better idea to 🏴‍☠️, but I also understand he is not the only person who worked on these shows. 🏴‍☠️ing affects more than him, so personally I don’t see a problem with watching his shows as long as you condemn him.

Do I think you can still read his books: Yes, but it’s a bit different here. I do not think people should be buying his books now. If you want to own them, buy second hand. If you don’t mind reading online, then 🏴‍☠️. I wouldn’t really recommend checking them out at a library as that still does give him support since the library could decide to purchase more of his books.

Do I think you can enjoy media he’s worked on or created without supporting him as person?: 1000%. His actions and alleged perversions do not translate into any of his work from what I’ve seen. I think it is 100% possible to separate him from his media in this case, especially with Good Omens and his shows.

Do I think you should burn/trash your books or media by him?: I don’t see a point, but I understand why someone may want to do this. Everyone is angry and upset, and if you want nothing to do with his works anymore that’s 100% valid. I just personally don’t see a point since they’ve already been purchased, and unless you bought them recently and can return them, you’re not taking any money away from him. If you don’t want to keep his books anymore, I’d suggest donating them to a thrift store or a library.

Edit: I wanted to add a section here about the relationships he had with these women since I didn’t really mentioned it before, so here (TW FOR SA);

While the relationships themselves were consensual for the most part (besides the two allegations of SA) I still do not think they were right to be had. The power imbalance and age gaps are gross. They’re not illegal, but morally they’re incorrect in my opinion. I know one of these women was a fan of his, and I believe he took advantage of that. And im also pretty sure he was 40 years older than her at the time. That’s gross.

As for neil’s current response as featured in the article, I don’t think he’s telling the truth. He admits to having relationships with those women, which adds to fact that I believe he’s not a good person for having those relationships already where he clearly was the one in power. The false memories claim could have some nuance to it (it’s possible that it could be something that happens to that woman without it being stated on medical records) but I personally believe it’s an excuse on his end, true or not.

Of course, continue to be kind to each other online. Don’t berate those who are upset and confused, and don’t berate the victims either. For those who believe it’s still all a lie, you have no reason to believe he wouldn’t be capable of any of this. You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you. I urge you to rethink everything about this situation and take some time to process it on your own. Denying everything is not the way to go about this.

I believe that’s everything I have to say. If you read all this, I appreciate this. If you think my wording is odd in some places or if it seems I said something I didn’t mean, please let me know. I’m writing this all on a bit of whim so I can put my thoughts out there instead of keeping it all inside. Thanks again, and stay safe

#neil gaiman #good omens #the sandman #Coraline

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dianawinchester03 · 21 days ago

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Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is And What Should Never Be (Part Two)

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Part Two!!! If you haven’t read part one yet, go here. You’ll need to read it to understand this and the series. Hope everyone likes!❤️

_______________________________________________

Y/N had gone to work and Dean was lounging in their living room, finishing off Y/N’s beer as he flipped through channels on the TV set. Dean let out a content, “Ahhh” as he clicked the remote, landing on a news station. “And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424” The newscaster said.

Dean’s heart dropped, his eyes widening as he leaned forward, instantly recognizing the flight by name. “Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the victims” Dean could feel his fear growing, “No no no. We stopped that crash” His mind going back to that day they had to exorcise a demon on a plane.

Dean was now in front of Y/N’s laptop, running his hand over his face as he stared, eyewide at the headline on the article. ‘Flight 424 Crashes. 108 dead’ the headline read. He began skimming the internet for all their previous hunts within the past two years, the words ‘nine children comatose’, ‘parents mutilated’, ‘girl drowns in hotel pool’ rang through his head.

Dean felt sick to his stomach as he read about all the people they saved over the years were now gone, as if all what they did was for nothing. This reality was too much for him, he desperately wanted a normal life but seeing this…it didn't sit right with him.

At the corner of his eye, Dean saw the figure of a woman drift in the hallway. His eyes snapped up to see no one there, he knew it couldn't be Y/N. He knows her figure like the back of his hand, so immediately he got up and rushed into the room. The seemingly empty room.

Dean heard something move in the closet, his head snapping in the direction. He attempted to reach for his gun he keeps in the back of his jeans, only to pat air. Forgetting that he's a civilian and not a hunter. The instinct came naturally. Dean then swiftly opened the door to see the skeletal remains of a man and a woman, hanging by their wrists from the ceiling.

Dean stared at it in shock and fear, before he could do anything, he sensed a presence behind him. He quickly turned around to see the young girl he saw outside the college and in the restaurant, a bleeding wound was prominent on her forehead. Her spirit then diminished out of sight. Leaving Dean stunned.

He spun around to see the skeletal remains he saw just a few seconds ago were now gone. "What the…" Dean muttered under his breath, his eyes darting around the room where the skeletons had been not a moment ago. "What the hell is going on?" He repeated to himself, trying to make sense of everything he had just witnessed.

Frustration boiled within him as he ran a hand through his messy hair, feeling utterly helpless. He took a deep, shaky breath before quickly exiting the room. "Screw it. I need a drink" Dean mumbled, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

____________________________________________

Thunder was rolling as lightning filled the dark sky where Dean stood in the cemetery. He looked down at the headstone that read ‘John Winchester’ with anger, sorrow, pity and a bit of hatred. “All of them. Everyone that you and F/N saved. Everyone that Sammy, Y/N/N and I saved. They're all dead”

The anger in his voice was palpable, as he looked down at the grave with clenched fists. "Everyone!" he repeated, his voice hoarse with emotion. The rain that fell from the sky did little to soothe his anger as he continued to glare at the headstone.

For a moment, he was silent, the only sound being the pattering of rain on his jacket and the distant rumble of thunder. Then he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And there’s this girl that's haunting me. I don’t know why. Y/N can’t even feel her, I mean, how can she not see her? The chick feels everything, it's annoying sometimes!”

He sighed frustrated, leaning against a neighboring headstone, not even caring if he got mud on himself. "I don’t know why. I don’t know what the connection is." he muttered, raising the bottle of whiskey to his lips. The alcohol burned down his throat, but he welcomed the sensation.

It was a distraction for the moment, a way to numb the pain and anger that churned within him. But as the liquid coursed through his veins, it also made his head feel fuzzy and he soon found himself slumping against the headstone, his eyes growing heavy.

He knew he should probably get up and get out of here, but the weight of everything seemed too heavy, too much to bear. He sighed and took another swig of whiskey, hoping that it would bring him closer to unconsciousness.

“Its like my old life is coming after me or something, you know? Like it doesn’t want me to be happy” Dean rambled in frustration before glaring at his fathers headstone. “Of course, I know what you and f/n say. Well…not the two of you that played softball, but…” Dean’s throat constricted as he held back tears.

“You guys would say, ‘Go hunt the djinn. Hey, it put you here, it could put you back’” Dean said bitterly. “‘Your happiness for all those people’s lives. No contest right?’” Dean further quoted his father and F/N. Dean took a shaky breath, his vision growing hazy as the alcohol continued to take its toll on him.

He knew he was rambling, but the words just kept pouring out of him, fueled by the mixture of anger, sadness and confusion. "I just... I just don’t get it" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?!” Dean exclaimed, his heart clenching as the tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

“What about us, huh?! What? Mom’s not supposed to live her life. Me and Sammy aren’t supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?! It’s-” The words died in his throat again, so he brought the bottle to his lips.

The whiskey burned as it traveled down his throat, but he didn't care. The pain from the burn dulled the emotional pain that threatened to consume him. He slouched further down against the headstone, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand.

His gaze fell on his father's grave again, his eyes narrowing faintly. "Why can’t I just have a normal life? Why does it always to come back to this?" he let out a bitter laugh, "It’s like I’m cursed or something" He took another swig from the bottle, his grip loosening as the alcohol took effect.

Dean let out a deep breath, feeling the world spin slightly as he attempted to push himself up. His legs felt weak and shaky, but he managed to stand. "Yeah." He muttered, stumbling forward a few steps. He didn’t even look back as he made his way out of the cemetery and towards his car.

Dean woke up the next morning in bed, his head was still fuzzy, a nauseous feeling in his stomach. He groaned, his hand moving to cover his eyes as he slowly sat up, blinking groggily to adjust to the light in the room. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the throbbing headache that had taken up residence in his head.

His eyes glanced over to see the time on the clock, 6:30 a.m.

He heard the sound of the toilet flushing in the bathroom and saw a tall glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol was placed neatly on the nightstand. Dean grimaced slightly as he reached for the Tylenol and popped a few pills into his mouth before washing them down with the water.

The coolness of the liquid helped to soothe his raw throat, and he exhaled heavily. He heard footsteps approaching from the bathroom, but before he could turn to look, Y/N swung the door open, a slight frown on her face.

Y/N leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, "Hey." she said, her voice gentle but with a hint of concern. Dean looked up at her, guilt hitting him as he saw the look on her face. He knew by the look on her face that this wasn’t the first time he came home late and drunk, he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

But that wasn’t it, she was nervous. Y/N moved over to the bed and sat down beside him, reaching out to take his hand in hers. Her thumb rubbed soothingly over the back of his hand, trying to offer comfort despite the obvious worry she was feeling.

"You okay?" She asked softly, studying his face intently. He nodded slowly, looking down at their clasped hands. He squeezed her hand gently, meeting her gaze. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mumbled. A lie. “I-“ Y/N tried to tell him what she just found out while she was in the bathroom but her tone was shaky.

Seeing the hesitance on Y/N's face, Dean's heart dropped. "What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, concern etching his features. He squeezed her hand again, silently encouraging her to speak. Y/N took a deep breath before meeting his gaze once again. Her free hand was buried in her robe pocket, clutching the positive pregnancy test in her hand.

“I know we talked about it before… we spoke about doing it after our wedding. I’m ready to do this and I know you are too but-“ She sighed before slowly retracting it from her pocket, placing it into Dean’s hand. Dean's eyes widened as he stared down at the pregnancy test in his hand, his heart skipping a beat when he saw those two pink lines.

His hand trembled slightly as he held it, his mind spinning with a mixture of shock, joy, and trepidation. He looked back up at Y/N, his gaze intense and full of an array of emotions. "You're... pregnant? We're having a baby?" Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she nodded, “After I left for work last night, the beer made me sick and I puked my life out. My boss sent me home early, then I realized my period was late…really late”

A flood of emotions coursed through Dean like a tidal wave. He gently set the pregnancy test down beside him and brought Y/N into his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"We're gonna have a baby," he repeated, his voice full of awe and love. He pulled back slightly to look at Y/N, his eyes glimmering with happiness. "I can't believe it. This is..." He trailed off, too overwhelmed to find the right words to express his feelings.

This wasn't real. Is what his mind screamed at him.

Y/N was more than pleased with Dean’s reaction to her positive pregnancy test. Clinging to Dean for dear life as she sobbed, “We’re gonna be such bad ass parents” She chuckled through tears. Dean chuckled softly, holding Y/N tighter against him. He buried his face in her hair, taking in her scent and relishing in the feeling of her in his arms.

"We definitely are," he agreed, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "We'll be the best damn parents our kid could ask for." All while saying this, he knew what had to be done. Desperately trying his hardest not to cry, because this is all he wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have it.

“Do you have to work today?” Dean asked her tenderly as he traced circles on her back. Y/N shook her head, feeling the comforting touch of his fingers tracing her back. "No," she murmured, "I have today off, thankfully." She snuggled closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his warmth.

"Why? What’s up?” She asked curiously, tilting her head up to look at him. "Just asking," he said lightly, trying to keep his voice steady. "I have some stuff I need to take care of today.” He explained. "I’ll be gone for a bit, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?” He placed a kiss on her forehead, attempting to mask his pain with a smile.

Y/N nodded against his chest, feeling a slight sense of unease but not wanting to push the matter. "Okay, baby, I’ll be here," she replied. "Just be careful, alright?" He nodded, pressing another kiss to her temple. "I will," he reassured her.

Reluctantly, he gently eased her off his lap and rose from the bed, grabbing a shirt from the dresser. "I should get going though. I love you, princess." Those words struck Dean to his core. Y/N watched him get dressed, her heart heavy with worry and confusion but she plastered a small smile on her face. "I love you too, charming," she told him.

Once Dean was gone, Y/N sat quietly on the bed, her heart heavy with confusion. It was as if something was off about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She tried to push the thoughts aside, knowing he probably had something important to take care of, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

With a sigh, she laid back on the bed, trying to find comfort in the soft sheets and the familiar scent of the man she loved.

Once out in the garage, Dean leaned against Baby, his shoulders slumping as the weight of what he needed to do hit him all at once. With a sigh, he got in his car and started the engine, the only thing on his mind was the decision he had to make.

____________________________________________

Sam jolted awake in his bed to the sound of the door opening downstairs, it was way early in the morning, he instantly clutched the baseball bat he had under his bed. Gently padding over to the door.

Sam slowly opened the door, his grip on the baseball bat tightening as he strained his ears to listen for any sounds. Hearing the faint sound of movement downstairs, he cautiously made his way out of the room, keeping the bat raised just in case.

He saw the figure of a man in the dark house rummaging through the China cabinet as he peered from the corner. Sam's eyes widened as he saw the figure in the dark. He stayed hidden behind the corner for a moment, his heart racing as he tried to decide what to do.

He gripped the bat tighter, launching himself at the ‘intruder’. Dean swiftly dodged the attack and tackled Sam to the ground, pinning him down with his body. “That was so easy, I’m embarrassed for you?” Dean quipped. "Dean?" Sam exclaimed, breathing heavily, "What the hell are you doing here?" Shoving his brother off of him to push himself to his feet.

“I was looking for a beer” Dean joked, patting Sam on his shoulder. A wave of nostalgia washed over him at the interaction. “In the China cabinet?” Sam questioned, his brows furrowed as he padded over to the wall to flick the light on. His eyes glanced over to the table to see a box of their mom’s expensive knives.

“That’s mom’s silver” Sam pointed out, “Sam-” Dean sighed but his brother cut him off. “Wait, you broke into the house to steal Mom’s silver?!” Sam lowly exclaimed. “It's not what it looks like, okay? I didn't have a choice” Dean tried to defend. “Oh really? What's so fucking important that you gotta steal from your own mother?”

Dean grimaced, raking his fingers roughly through his hair as he tried to find the right words. "You want the truth?" He grumbled. The disappointment in Sam's voice was evident, and it cut deep. But he knew he couldn't tell him the truth. At least not yet. "Yeah. Yeah I do," Sam urged him as he nodded, Dean sighed before coming up with a shitty excuse.

“I owe somebody money.” Sam rolled his eyes. Typical Dean, he thought to himself. “Who?” He asked. “A bookie. I lost big on a game. I gotta bring him the cash tonight” Dean lied. “I can’t believe we’re even related” Sam mumbled, shaking his head. Dean’s face dropped, his heart aching in his chest.

“Sam, I’m sorry” Dean apologized sincerely, “Yeah” Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry that we don't get along. I’m sorry that you and y/n/n aren’t friends anymore because of me. And I wish to hell that I could stay and fix it, fix everything.” His voice cracked. “I wish I could stay and be a father….but I gotta do this” Dean said, his voice filled with determination.

“People’s lives depend on it” Dean sighed heavily before picking up one of the silver knives from the red box. “What are you talking about, Dean?” Sam asked lowly, confusion clear in his tone. “Nothing. Forget it. Just…uh…” Dean said as he turned back to his brother. “Hey. Tell Mom I love her. And tell my princess that I’m so sorry” Dean said with a sad smile.

Sam's confusion turned to alarm as he watched Dean pick up the knife. "Dean, what-?" he started to say, but before he could finish his thought, he saw Dean's sad smile and his stomach dropped. Dean turned on his heels to walk out of the room. “Dean” Sam tried to stop his brother from leaving.

“I’ll see you, Sammy” Dean said tenderly, pulling the door open. He gave the house one last sorrow filled and painstaking look. Then he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Sam stared down the shut door for a few seconds, his mind spiraling. “What the hell, Dean?” He muttered to himself.

He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut as his worries about Dean only increased. Sam was left standing in the doorway, his heart heavy and his mind racing. He couldn't understand what had just happened. Why had Dean been acting so strangely? Why had he stolen the silver, and why had he talked about people's lives depending on it?

Sam's mind raced through possibilities and worst-case scenarios, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make sense of it. Immediately, Sam fished his phone out of his pocket to call the one person he knew would get through to Dean.

Dialing Y/N’s number, he waited anxiously for her to answer. The seconds felt like hours as he held his breath, silently praying for her to pick up the call. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her voice came through the speaker. “Hello?”

"Y/N," Sam blurted out, his voice filled with urgency. "Something's up with Dean" he told her, pacing around the room in agitation. There was a beat of shocked silence on the other end before Y/N spoke, her concern evident in her voice. "I knew it” She grumbled, gripping her steering wheel.

After Dean left the house when she broke the news of her pregnancy, Y/N didn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong as much as she wanted to. So after over an hour of it nagging her, she hopped into her truck and went all over town looking for him.

“Is he still at the house?” Y/N asked Sam quickly. "Uhhh…" Sam hummed as he peeled back the curtain. The Impala was still outside with Dean sitting in the driver’s side, seemingly lost in thought. “He’s still outside” Sam answered, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

"But he was acting strange. He said something about owing money to a bookie and people's lives depending on it. I don't know what to make of it, Y/N" There was a short pause on the other end as Y/N absorbed this information. "That doesn't sound right at all,” she said, her voice filled with worry.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam agreed, his anxiety growing by the minute. "And then… he told me to tell you and mom that he's sorry and that he loves you" he relayed, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and concern. Y/N's heart sank at the mention of Dean's message, a knot forming in her throat. There was an undeniable feeling of dread in her gut.

Sam looked back out the window, his eyes falling on Dean who hadn’t shifted from his spot since earlier.

Her mind was racing, wondering if this was because of her unexpected pregnancy. So she tried her best to formulate a plan, even in this stressful time. “Okay, listen to me very clearly, Samuel. You go outside and keep him there for as long as possible. I’m on my way” Y/N instructed him sternly.

"Got it. I’ll keep him there," Sam assured her, his tone set with determination. “I’ll even pretend to be mad or something.” Y/N’s instructions were clear and concise, giving Sam a sense of purpose and a small hint of optimism, which he desperately needed at this moment.

Meanwhile, Dean was sitting in the Impala, lost in thought for God knows how long when suddenly his passenger side. Sam plopped into the front seat with a heavy sigh, causing Dean’s head to snap in his direction. “Get out the car,” Dean exclaimed sternly. “I’m going with you.” Sam insisted.

“You're just gonna slow me down." Dean growled. “Tough!” Sam sassed. "This is dangerous and you could get hurt!" Dean shouted. “Yeah. And so could you, Dean!” Sam shouted back. Dean was still trying to find a comeback when they suddenly heard the sound of screeching tires.

Their heads whipped around to see Y/N's truck coming to a stop a few yards back from the Impala. Y/N quickly jumped out and sprinted over to them. "What's going on?" Y/N asked breathlessly as she yanked the backdoor open, her wide eyes fixing on Dean with concern.

Dean was taken aback by her sudden appearance, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt seeing her there. "You shouldn't be here," he muttered, struggling against his own desire to reach out and hold her close.

"I don’t care. Sam told me everything. Whatever stupid thing you’re about to do, you’re not doing it alone. And that’s that," Y/N asserted firmly. Sam exchanged a knowing glance with her, silently impressed by her determination. Dean’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her, a mix of annoyance and affection.

He knew better than to argue with her once she had her mind set on something. Whether this was really her or not, he’s pretty sure every version of her would fight his stubbornness if she needed to.

His eyes glanced between Sam and Y/N with shock, he could understand why she would be so stubborn, but not Sam. If they weren’t close here, if Dean was so horrible that Sam wanted nothing to do with him, why would Sam stick his neck out for him?

“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” Dean asked Sam in confusion. He sighed deeply, tearing his eyes away to face the windshield. “Because you’re still my brother,” Sam muttered. A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she placed a hand on her stomach.

The two words stung Dean, cutting deep into his heart. ‘Still my brother.' His eyes glanced down to Y/N's stomach as she subconsciously placed her hand on it. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, knowing that he would never get to experience that with her.

"Bitch." he smirked at the two, Sam’s brows furrowed in offense as Y/N smiled. “What are you calling me a bitch for?” Sam stuttered, Y/N let out a snort of amusement. “You’re supposed to say, ‘jerk’” Sam’s brows furrowed again. "What?” Sam muttered under his breath as Y/N snickered, Dean rolled his eyes before putting the Impala in drive.

“Nevermind” He huffed. Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder from the backseat, “Asshat” She shot at with a grin. Dean chuckled under his breath in amusement, his chest swelling with the familiarity, “Nutcase”

____________________________________________

Y/N was half asleep in the backseat, her hand resting right over her stomach, lazily tracing circles around the navel through her shirt. She tried to focus on getting a somewhat proper rest having been on the road for more than 12 hours. The hum of Baby’s engine was the only sound that echoed through their ears.

Dean’s eyes landed on Y/N through the rearview mirror, the painful ache in his chest resurfaced as he watched Y/N trace her navel, gently caressing her own stomach, almost as if she was comforting their unborn child before it was even in this world yet.

He wanted so badly to just reach over and do the same, he always knew she’d make a great mother, even if y/n wouldn’t admit it to herself. But he had to pull himself away from that nagging feeling. The voice at the back of his head that was begging him to be selfish for once. He had to focus. He had a mission.

“What’s in the bag?” Sam broke the silence, pointing to the brown paper bag laying next to Dean. Y/N cracked open one of her eyes, “Nothing” Dean huffed, focusing his gaze on the empty dark road. “Nothing?” Sam sassed, “Yeah, nothing” Dean snapped back. “Just open the damn bag, I don’t wanna hear any bickering” Y/N grumbled in annoyance.

Sam scoffed before picking up the back. “Fine” He said, “Fine” Y/N mocked back, earning a glare from him. “You don’t wanna do that” Dean snorted. “Oh, really?” Sam sassed again as he reached into the bag, pulling out a container of lamb’s blood. Y/N gasped theratically as Sam did this, his own eyes widening with shock.

“What the fuck is that?!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing herself up in the backseat. “Blood” Dean shrugged, both Sam and Y/N’s eyes twitched at him. “Yeah, we can see that it’s blood, Dean! What the hell is it doing here?!” Sam shouted. Dean’s smirk widened, “You guys really don’t wanna know” He snorted.

“No, we really do wanna know! We really really do wanna know!” Y/N yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. Dean sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, y’all are gonna find out sooner or later” He sighed, “I needed a silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood” Dean explained casually.

The car fell silent, he craned his head to see Sam and Y/N staring back at him with wide eyes, jaws practically touching the floorboards. Dean had to hold back himself from laughing at their faces, the look they had was hysterical.

“You needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood, why!?” Sam exclaimed. “Because there’s this creature, a djinn, and I have to hunt it” Dean stated. Sam and Y/N’s faces dropped, “I let an insane man impregnate me” Y/N muttered to herself, her voice going up and octave as she threw herself back into the seat, looking around in disbelief.

“Okay…stop the car..” Sam began calmly, “I know how it sounds” Dean shot back. “Great. Just….stop the car” Sam tried again, y/n was still staring out the car in disbelief, her jaw hanging. “It’s the truth, guys. There are things out there in the dark. There are bad things. There are nightmare things” Dean insisted, Y/N’s eyes snapped over to him as he continued.

“People have to be saved, if we don’t save them, then nobody will,” Dean said determinedly. Sam and Y/N could feel their heads spinning, trying to make sense of what Dean was saying while still trying to process his previous statement about the silver knife. "You're telling us there's some monster out there you want to hunt?" Y/N asked disbelievingly. "Yeah" Dean said as if it was obvious.

"And you need a silver knife dipped in blood to do it?" She continued, her eyes never leaving his. "Uh-huh" Dean confirmed nonchalantly, his focus still on the road. Sam and Y/N shared a disheveled look. She decided she had had enough, pushing herself over from the backseat and into the middle of the two Winchester boys as Dean drove.

“You’ve gotta be losing it,” Y/N declared, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “And you can’t just go and hunt some ‘djinn’ that supposedly exists, you have no business getting yourself tangled up in something crazy like that!” She cried.

Dean shot her a quick side glance before returning his focus back on the road, “It’s not a ‘supposedly’ thing. These things are real” He stated matter-of-factly. Y/N shook her head in disbelief, her eyes wide, “You’re insane” she muttered.

“Look, man, we wanna help you, alright. We really do but you’re having some kind of psychotic breakdown so…” Sam chimed in, attempting to fish his phone out of his pocket. “I wish” Dean muttered. “Baby…” Y/N said to him tenderly. Dean’s hands tightened around the steering wheel at the soft tone, the nickname making his chest ache with yearning.

He briefly closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Save the pet names…you don’t mean it like that” he huffed under his breath, opening his eyes as Sam dialed a number on his phone. Y/N physically flinched at his harsh tone as he rolled down the window and snatched Sam’s phone out of his hand before tossing it out of the window.

“What the fuck was that, Dean?! That was my phone!!” Sam exclaimed, whipping his head around in shock. Y/N’s mouth dropped, “You just threw his fucking phone out of the window!” She gasped. Dean ignored them both, his gaze fixated on the road ahead, “I’m not going to a rubber room Sammy and y/n/n, and we got work to do” Dean said calmly.

“We were just trying to help you out, Dean!” Sam shouted. “We don’t want you to get hurt!” Y/N added, tears brimming in her eyes. That made Dean know for sure this wasn’t his girl, because as much as she was a crybaby for sad movies and cute animal videos, she wasn’t so easy to break. “What, you two protect me?” Dean snorted in amusement.

“Yeah!” Sam and Y/N exclaimed in unison. “Oh, that’s hilarious” Dean chuckled sarcastically, turning back to face the road. “Why don’t you twojust sit tight and try not to get us all killed?” Dean demanded before turning on the radio. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Saturday Night Special’ began booming through the Impala’s deck again.

Sam and Y/N sat back in their seats, speechless after being chewed out by Dean. They exchanged a look before facing the windshield again, both of their minds swirling with thoughts as Dean’s music blared through the stereo. Y/N’s hands slid down to her stomach, gently caressing the skin where their unborn child was growing inside of her.

____________________________________________

The Impala pulled up to the familiar warehouse, Sam was passed out in the backseat, snoring rather heavily. After almost accidentally punching Y/N in his sleep, once again, she shunned Sam to the backseat, leaving an unconscious Y/N in the front seat. Her head was nestled in Dean’s lap, using his thighs as a makeshift pillow.

Dean’s hand moved down to Y/N’s hair, his fingers gently stroking the strands. The aching feeling in his chest increased every time he looked down at her sleeping form. His eyes scanned each detail on her face, the curve of her lips, everything.

It has been a long time since he had seen her look so peaceful, she seemed so relaxed and calm as she slept. It was a sharp contrast the way she usually was; stressed, anxious, worried and overthinking about everything.

Dean sighed heavily before fishing his flashlight from his jacket, shining it in both Sam and Y/N’s faces. A wide grin playing on his lips. Sam’s eyebrows crinkled together as the light shined in his face, his eyes fluttering open as he groaned. “Wha—” He muttered, confusion written all over his face. Y/N on the other hand, let out a loud whine.

Twisting in Dean’s lap to face his stomach before shoving her face into his shirt in order to block the bright light. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty and sasquatch” Dean chuckled, shifting in the seat. Sam grumbled incoherently, rubbing the sleep out from his eyes. “Where are we?” He mumbled, still trying to wake himself up.

Y/N remained pressed against Dean’s stomach, trying to fall back into her semi-comprehensive state of sleep. “Well, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Dean replied with a light chuckle. This made Y/N shoot up from her place in his lap. Dean chuckled again at her reaction, a smirk on his face as he turned off the flashlight.

She narrowed her eyes at him before glaring at Sam, who in turn, gave her a small sheepish smile. She huffed in annoyance before looking out the window. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to the warehouse, the air of the cold night wafted through the open windows, Dean’s body heat couldn’t keep her warm anymore. She shivered slightly, bringing her hands up to wrap her arms around herself.

“We’re in Illinois” Dean answered Sam’s previous question. “And you think something’s there?” Y/N’s voice was thick with sleep as she asked. “I know it is” Dean said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the building with determination. Sam and Y/N exchanged a nervous look before turning back to him.

The trio all held their own flashlights up, the abandoned warehouse/ruins Dean remembered he was attacked by the Djinn was exactly the way it was. Thunder clapped outside, bellowing through the dark hall as lightning filled the sky.

Dean led the way, his footsteps echoed through the abandoned hallway as they walked. Y/N stuck by his side while Sam followed behind them. She was starting to get a bad feeling, the warehouse was dark, cold and damp. So instinctively, she reached for her fiancé’s hand, interlocking their fingers together.

“See? There’s nothing here, Dean” Sam insisted. “Look, our parents are gonna be worried sick about us, babe. Come on, let’s just go” Y/N pleaded with Dean. Dean gritted his teeth, his grip on Y/N’s hand tightened slightly. “Shh” he hissed. Sam and Y/N exchanged another nervous look, stopping in their tracks when they heard the sounds of a girl crying. “What the fuck is that?” Sam gasped.

“Both of you, stay behind me and keep your mouths shut” Dean instructed them, his voice laced with authority as he let go of Y/N’s hand, using his body to cover her. His free hand instinctively went to shield her belly. They both nodded, falling behind him as he moved forward. The crying got louder with every step they took.

Sam and Y/N’s eyes went as wide as saucers when their eyes landed on the decomposing corpses of a man and a woman. The same ones Dean saw back at his ‘house’. Y/N brought a hand to her mouth, a sick churning in her stomach at the sight of the dead bodies. The urge to puke was poking at her as Dean kept his face stoic, the confirmation that none of this was real was creeping up on him and it devastated him.

“What the fuck?” Sam gasped again, swallowing thickly as Dean’s eyes flicked over to a young girl who was tied up by her wrists. She had a large gash in her throat, her skin looked dirty, as though she hadn’t bathed in months. But she still looked somewhat alive, his eyes piercing into Dean’s.

It was the girl that was haunting him. Dean moved closer to the girl as Y/N reached over to grip Sam’s shoulder, trying to hold up her balance. The urge to puke was growing stronger. “Dean, wait…” Y/N mumbled, her words almost incoherent with the bile threatening to rise up her throat. He didn’t listen, only moved forward.

The girl was staring back at him, her eyes bloodshot and dark. “Dean, don’t” Sam spoke up, watching the scene unfold. But Dean still didn’t listen, he went straight up to the girl, crouching down to her. She tilted her head to the side, as if to study him. “It’s her,” Dean gasped as the realization hit him.

It confused them how Dean knew this girl, but they still felt the need to help her. For Y/N, seeing the young girl in such a state brought out the maternal instincts she never knew she had. “Dean, what’s going on?” She asked urgently, attempting to reach over to untie the girl, along with Sam. But Dean stopped them, “Shhh” He hushed them when he heard footsteps.

Quickly and quietly, they all hid behind a large tank as the Djinn entered the room. The young girl was shaking as the heavily tattooed creature padded over to her, “Where’s my dad? I don’t know.” The young girl sobbed, her voice absolutely desperate and broke. The Djinn didn’t answer, he just inched towards the girl whose feet were hanging slightly off the ground.

“No. Don’t. No. Where’s my dad?” She pleaded weakly as she tried to shuffle away but it was no use. The djinn brought his hand up to her face, placing his fingertips to the sobbing girl’s face, “Sleep” He said, his fingers lighting a small glow of white before fully expanding into a large dark blue light. The girl shivered in his touch, “Sleep…” He said again, caressing her cheek.

The girl soon fell unconscious as the Djinn placed a sickening kiss on her cheek before unhooking the saline bag that was hanging on an IV stand. He then brought the bloodied thin clear hose to his mouth, ingesting her blood.

Y/N felt sick to her stomach, her throat closing up at the scene unfolding in front of her. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t, it was like she was completely frozen, not able to move or break her view from the girl.

Sam wasn’t faring much better, a visible shiver shot through him at the sight. His head felt like it was spinning when the djinn started feeding off the girl, his eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly parted.

Dean, on the other hand, had never felt so angry. His body was tense and his jaw clenched.

Y/N couldn’t hold it back anymore, the bile in her throat built up and she immediately let chunks blew all over Sam’s shoes, causing the younger Winchester to gag in disgust as both the scene unfolding and the sight of the djinn drinking the girl’s blood.

“Agh, Jesus!” Sam hissed, lowly. But it seemed like the djinn didn’t notice, it’s back was turned and it was still in the middle of feeding. But Dean caught the sound of Sam’s gag and Y/N’s heaving, he shot the pair a glare and held his finger up to his lips, signaling them to stay quiet.

The djinn finally finished feeding, letting out a satisfied moan as it pulled the hose out of its mouth. A chilling smile crept across its lips as it left the room. “This is real? You’re not crazy?” Y/N began to hyperventilate along with Sam as she wiped her mouth, buckling over as a pain struck at her stomach.

“She didn’t know where she was. She thought she was with her father” Dean muttered, the wheels turning in his head. The boys then stepped out from behind the tank, moving closer to the girl. Sam held up a weak Y/N, his arm draping around her midsection as Dean clenched his fists.

“What if that’s what the Djinn does? It doesn’t grant you a wish. I just- it makes you think you has” Dean swallowed harshly. He was hoping that somehow, someway, it could’ve just been a super fucked up wish. And he could’ve fixed his relationships with his family. Finally get on F/N’s good side. Be a better brother, be a better fiancé….be a better father.

“Look man, that thing can come back, alright? And we need to get Y/N to a hospital, she’s weak” Sam pleaded with Dean as Y/N’s head tumbled on his shoulder. But Dean didn’t hear him, all he heard was a ringing in his ears, his head snapping to the other side of the room where a light shone over head.

Dean slowly stepped closer to the light, flashes of his own body hanging from a ceiling filled his vision. Causing the elder Winchester to choke on his own spit, his throat constricted as air refused to enter his lungs. “Dean, baby. Please” Y/N’s weak voice pleaded with him. “What if I’m like her?” Dean finally let himself say out loud. “What if I’m tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?”

Part of him knew, that voice nagging him at the back of his head knew. “I mean, it could, you know…maybe give us some kind of supernatural acid and then just feeds on us slow,” Dean muttered as he studied the girl’s face. Sam’s jaw dropped at Dean’s words, his brain going into overthinking mode, he was about to say something but stopped when he heard a low whimper come from Y/N.

Her head was heavy on his shoulder. “No, Dean, that doesn’t make sense, okay,” Sam gaped. Y/N’s weak eyes flickered to Dean once more, her breath was slightly ragged and labored from when she had puked. “Please” Y/N croaked, clinging onto Sam. Dean turned to face them.

“What if that’s why she keeps appearing to me? She’s not a spirit. It’s like more and more I’m catching reality flashes. You know? like I’m in here somewhere, I’m catatonic. I’m taking all this stuff in but I can’t snap out of it” Dean put the pieces together.

Y/N, weak as she was, peeled herself from Sam and forced herself to walk over to Dean, her legs were shaking and it was hard to keep herself standing upright But she reached out for him, her hand landing on his arm. “Dean” She gasped. “Look, you’re right. We were wrong, you’re not crazy. But please, we need to get out of here. Fast.” She pleaded, her words coming out thick and choked, trying not to puke again.

Y/N ran her hands up the back of his neck but it made Dean feel sick rather than safe. Dean narrowed his eyes at her, clenching his jaw before roughly pushing her off. Luckily, Sam caught her before she could hit the ground. Y/N and Sam both went wide-eyed at Dean’s sudden roughness. Y/N’s face crumbled, her expression filled with hurt as her eyes began to water. “Dean?” She whispered, her voice so fragile.

But Dean’s face was hard and emotionless, his eyes darkened as he stared back at her. “What the fuck man?! She’s pregnant!” Sam exclaimed as he carefully helped Y/N back onto her feet, his arms held protectively around her. “I don’t think you’re real” Dean gaped, feeling as though he had been shot in the heart. “I don’t think either of you are real.” Dean shook his head, slowly backing away from them.

Y/N let out a choked sob, her bottom lip quivered, the urge to keep herself together was getting weaker. Her head fell into her hand while Sam looked ready to punch some sense into his brother’s head.

He gritted his teeth before helping Y/N to lean on something before storming over to his brother, shaking his roughly. “Did you feeling that? You feel this? I’m real! Y/N is real and so is your goddamn baby! This is not an acid trip! We’re real and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Now please” Sam pleaded with Dean, his tone filled with desperation.

Dean’s face remained stoic, “There’s one way to be sure” He clenched his jaw before retracting the silver knife from his jacket pocket. He then raised the knife towards Sam. “Woah, Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah! Stop!” Sam cried, his hands shot up into the air, as if to surrender. Scuffling over to shield Y/N who was still clutching her stomach, writhing in pain. But Dean didn’t believe it for one second.

“Dean, what are you doing, man? What are you doing?” He pleaded with Dean, his eyes widened in panicked confusion. “It’s an old-wives tale. If you’re about to die in a dream, you wake up” Dean stated. Sam’s face fell, he knew exactly what Dean was going to do. “No, no, no, no. That’s crazy, alright?!” He protested. “Maybe” Dean shrugged.

Y/N’s head perked up, her eyes widened at Dean’s words as she finally understood what he was about to do. “Dean, no, don’t!” She shouted as Sam used his arm to stop her from approaching Dean. “You’re gonna kill yourself- Okay!” Sam exclaimed when he tried to apprehend Dean but he drew the knife on them in a warning manner. “Or I’m gonna wake up” Dean shot back.

“One or the other” Dean breathed heavily. “Look, this isn’t a dream, alright? We’re here, with you, now, and you are about to kill yourself, charming” Y/N pleaded with him, her voice sounding suddenly stronger. Dean narrowed his eyes at her, “No, I’m pretty sure” He growled, “Like….90 percent sure” He blinked before turning the knife on him, ready to stab himself.

“Wait!!” Sam bellowed. Dean’s head snapped over to the side when he saw the figure of two women, one in a white nightgown and the other in a black. Mary Winchester and M/N L/N approached Dean with sweet smiles on their faces. His heart dropped in his chest as he watched from all corners. Jess appeared, then F/N from another corner.

Y/N was suddenly healthy and well again, slowly walking up to Dean. “Why’d you have to keep digging? Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone?” She asked, her voice wasn’t sounding much like her own. “You were happy.” Sam added as Mary and M/N moved and began walking besides Y/N. “Put the knife down, honey” M/N said gently.

“Listen to her, Dean,” Mary added just as tenderly. Dean was frozen in place, his eyes wide, shifting from side to side as the women in this nightmare, his nightmare, advanced towards him. His heart was hammering in his chest, he looked like he was ready to have a panic attack. The knife loosened on his grip as he looked over to Y/N, his eyes wide like a frightened child.

This wasn��t real… this couldn’t be real. It’s not real.

“You’re not real” Dean’s lip trembled, tearing welling up in his eyes to say this to his mother and M/N, subconsciously tightening the knife in his grips. All three women frowned, “None of it is” He spat. His eyes glancing down to Y/N’s stomach, he felt as thought he had been shot, once again.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s still better than anything you had” Mary said encouragingly. “What?” Dean gasped. “It’s everything you want. We’re a family again” M/N added, offering Dean a small smile. “Let’s go home,” She urged him. “But I’ll die,” Dean’s voice broke.

“The djinn’ll drain the life outta me in a couple of days” He shook his head, part of him wanted to be selfish and take the offer but his conscience wouldn’t let him. “But I’m here with us, it’ll feel like years…” Y/N chimed in, taking Dean’s hand into hers to place it on her stomach. “…like a lifetime”

Dean’s breath hitched at Y/N’s words. He was torn between selfish temptation and morality, his mind was fighting with itself. The feeling of his child under his hand was so real and it was making him falter.

The tears began to fall down Dean’s pale cheeks, he looked absolutely heartbroken. He didn’t know what to do, the women around him had everything he ever wanted but it wasn’t real. None of it was real. His throat was tight, he could feel the bile rising from his stomach but he tried to hold it in.

Mary brought her hand up to caress Dean’s cheek and M/N took Dean’s free hand in his. “We promise. No more pain or fear.” Mary said sweetly as Dean nuzzled his cheek into her hand and tightened his grip on M/N’s hand. “Just love, comfort and safety” M/N added in an urging tone.

Dean’s eyes reopened, still trained on his palm that was resting on Y/N’s stomach. Both mothers stepped back, allowing Y/N to wrap her arms around Dean, running her fingers through the nape of his neck. “Dean. Stay with us. Let’s go home and get some rest” Y/N pleaded.

Dean’s eyes met with Y/N’s, staring into those gorgeous (e/c) irises that he’ll never get tired of looking into. She looked so beautiful, so healthy. It was too good to be true. The idea of her bearing his child, them being parents together, the idea of her actually loving him back was all too good to be true for Dean. His lip quivered as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing his thumb on her soft skin.

“You don’t have to worry about Sam anymore. You get to watch him live a full life” Jessica chimed in. Dean’s brows creased as his chest ached. Y/N leaned up to capture Dean’s lips into a gentle slow kiss. The kiss was long and tender, it felt so real, and it was making this so much more painful for Dean.

He could feel his heart breaking as tears continued to fall down his face, a strangled gasp escaped from him. But Y/N didn’t let go. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hand remained firm on her stomach. She pulled away for a breath, her bottom lip trembled as she leaned her forehead against his, “We can finally have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, charming” She whispered.

“Please” Y/N pleaded, the look of desperation in her eyes was enough to bring Dean to a puddle, it took all in him not to crack right there and give in. He stubbornly shook his head, “No you don’t….at least, not like that” Dean whispered back, his voice hoarse as he once again denied Y/N’s love for him.

A frown took over Y/N’s beautiful face, her eyes watering up as the words stung her. “Yes, I do” She insisted, her hands moving up to cup his face so he wouldn’t look away, to look her in the eye. “Dean, I do, I love you” Her voice was pleading, she wasn’t lying. The words were written all over her face, her heart was laying bare for him.

This wasn’t real… this couldn’t be real. It’s not real.

It was Sam’s turn, the younger Winchester stepped forward and Y/N released her loose grip on Dean. “Why is it our job to save everyone?” Sam asked in a calm voice. “Haven't we done enough?” He added, the look of despair on his brother’s face was extreme to the point where Sam was willing to do anything to keep Dean here.

“I’m begging you. Give me the knife” Sam begged him. Dean’s eyes trailed the room. They went to F/N, who was yet to say a word, but he had an encouraging look on his face. “Give him the knife, son” He finally said. Dean’s eyes then went to Jessica, before trailing over to Mary, M/N, Sam and finally Y/N. He gave her stomach one last look before leaning down to press a kiss to it.

Y/N’s lip curled into a small sad smile as he pressed a tender kiss to her stomach before drawing back to stare solemnly into her eyes. They were glossy with tears, she didn’t say anything, afraid that her voice would betray her. Dean’s eyes softened slightly as he stared down at the woman he loved.

His throat was as tight as it was before, but it felt more painful now. His heart ached, it hurt to say what he was going to say next. “I’m sorry, princess,” He murmured. With that, Dean reared the knife back before driving it into his stomach. A chorus of cries filled the room. “DEAN!” Sam and Y/N screamed.

Reality, 2007

Joliet, Illinois

“DEAN!” Sam and Y/N screamed when they stormed the ruined warehouse with Jo, guns blazing, all armed with silver knives dipped in lamb’s blood. Y/N’s stomach dropped, suppressing a scream when she saw Dean tied up from his wrists, a bag of his blood that was being drained was propped on an IV stand. He looked as pale as ever.

Y/N, Sam, and Jo advanced into the room further, eyes locked on Dean. She felt her stomach twist painfully as she took him in; bloody, bruised, pale. He was unconscious, most likely from the blood loss, he was too weak to lift his head.

“Dean” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky as her mind ran a mile a minute. Just staring at him was making her want to break down and cry. “Oh, God. Come on” Sam pleaded as he reholstered his gun and began shaking his brother.

“Dean, sweetie, please” Y/N begged, placing both her palms to his cheeks, gently tapping him as his eyes fluttered open. Jo reached down into Y/N’s boots to take out the butterfly knife she had stored there, flickering it open.

“Oh, Auntie Em. There’s no place like home” Dean moaned and groaned from the loss of blood. “Thank God, I thought we lost you for a second” Sam breathed out in relief, the pain clear in his voice. “Y’all almost did” Dean grunted, his face creasing with pain as Y/N yanked the IV needle from his neck.

“Come on, let’s get you down” Jo said quietly as she began to cut away at the ropes. Sam and Y/N held Dean up, not seeing the Djinn that appeared behind them. “Sam! Y/N!” Dean screamed, warning them. The sound of Dean’s voice, screaming their names, made the pair of them whip their heads around in horror.

The sight of the djinn made them both freeze for millisecond, stunned. The two instantly kicked into action, attacking the Djinn while Jo desperately tried to cut away quickly at the stubborn roping, bounding Dean’s wrists.

Both hunters tried to stab the Djinn with their knives but it was faster and stronger than them, it dodged their attack, gripping them by their wrists.

“Come on, hurry up!” Dean yelled at Jo, yanking at his wrists. “I’m trying!” Jo screamed back, quickening her pace, the two were horrified.

Y/N raised her foot, high kicking the Djinn across his face (thank you cheerleading) dazzling the creature. He backhanded Sam into a railing, the hunter went headfirst into it, also dazzled. The Djinn suddenly grabbed hold of Y/N’s throat, a gasp left her at the unexpected attack. It yanked her backwards, holding her in its grip.

Y/N struggled in his grip as he picked Sam up by his throat, attempting to squeeze the life force out of the two. Y/N reached her hand out in an attempt to summon her discarded knife on the ground with her mind but it was no use, the lack of air was causing her to grow light headed, her focus was minimal.

She was losing her touch as darkness slowly crept into vision, her eyelids grew heavier as she struggled to keep eye contact with Sam, who was equally as dizzy. She could see Sam flailing about, his lips moving but Y/N couldn’t hear him through the loud, continuous buzz that was ringing in her ears.

Suddenly, Dean and Jo appeared behind the Djinn, the younger huntress buried the knife in the Djinn’s spine. A sickening pierce echoed through the room as the Djinn groaned, gargling on his own blood. Her face contorted with anger as she twisted the knife for good measure.

They watched as the Djinn collapsed to the floor with a strangled moan, his grip loosening on the two, allowing both Sam and Y/N to break from his grip. Y/N let out a strangled cough, filling her lungs with oxygen and trying to regain her breath.

Dean turned his head to look at Y/N and Sam, who were both slumped against the flooring, both dazed. “Hey! You two okay?” He asked urgently, placing his hands on both their shoulders. “Yeah” Sam croaked, his voice hoarse when he swallowed. “Fine” Y/N nodded, reaching up to her neck to feel the aching skin where he gripped her.

Jo breathed out in relief as she crouched down to place her hand on Sam’s cheek. Sam winced as he leaned his cheek into Jo’s warm gentle touch on his face. The pair stared at each other for a moment, both glad the other was okay.

Sam was the first to break eye contact, he forced himself up from the floor, letting out a sigh, his legs felt like jelly. His eyes shifted over to Y/N, he extended his hand out to her, silently asking if she was okay. Y/N looked at him, letting out a shaky breath and nodded, taking his outstretched hand in hers.

Dean then suddenly remembered the girl from his dream, his head snapping behind him to see her tied up the same way he was. His face fell with instant sorrow when he saw her bound state, she was in a gown that was torn, her hair was messy and disheveled, her face was pale and lifeless.

Dean felt anger as he began to approach the girl, his legs stumbling as he attempted to stand up. His legs were still weak and wobbly from the Djinn venom. Dean brought his fingers up and pressed it to the side of her neck. His eyes widened when he felt the light thumping of a pulse, “She’s still alive, guys!” Dean exclaimed with relief as Jo reached up and cut the girl down and Dean retracted the IV needle from her neck.

Dean cradled the almost lifeless girl in his hands, “I got you. I got you. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? I got you. I got you” Dean breathed out, even though weak, he held her up in his hands. Y/N smiled to herself as she watched Dean cradle the girl, his voice was soft and gentle as he murmured soft little reassurances to her.

Shushing her as if he was trying to soothe a child. She and Sam shared a concerned look however as Jo frowned. All fearful and unwilling to imagine what Dean went through in just a span of a few hours.

____________________________________________

Dean was sitting on his bed in the motel room, reading one of Y/N’s playboy magazine’s while Sam was on the phone with the hospital and Jo was lounging on Sam’s bed. Y/N was making a cup of tea for Dean, per her request, to bring his strength back up.

“Okay, uh, thank you so much for the update. Okay, bye” Sam said into the phone before hanging up. “That was the hospital. The girl’s been stabilized. Good chance she’s gonna pull through” Sam informed Dean, who just nodded in return. “That’s good,” Dean grunted. “Yeah” Sam sighed, settling in the bed next to Jo.

Y/N returned to Dean’s bed, handing him the cup of tea. “How about you? You alright?” She asked gently. “Yeah, I’m all right, thanks” Dean cleared his throat, unable to keep eye contact with her as he accepted the cup of tea. Sam, Jo and Y/N shared an unconvinced look.

“You should’ve seen it, guys. Our lives…” Dean sighed. “You were such a wussy” Dean shot at Sam jokingly, making the room erupt in chuckles. “You weren’t there man, sorry” He said to Jo. “No worries” Jo chuckled, shaking her head. Dean took a small sip of the warm tea, making sure to not burn himself.

“So we all didn’t get along then, huh?,” Sam asked. Dean’s brows raised suddenly, “Well- Nope” He replied bluntly, shaking his head. Y/N sat down next to him on the bed. “At all?” She asked, raising a suspicious brow. “Yeah nope” He chuckled dryly, lying through his pearly white teeth, taking another sip of the drink.

“Man, I couldn’t imagine us not getting along” Sam muttered, the look of disbelief on his face matched the other two. “I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy” Y/N sighed, crossing one leg over another. “It wasn’t- It was just a wish” Dean cut her off, his eyes trained on his tea.

“Yeah, I wished for Mom and M/N to live. If they never died, F/N would’ve never told dad about hunting. And we all just never…uh…you know” Dean said sadly. The other three had frowns on their faces, feeling the pain they all could relate to in him. It was a hard life they led, full of loss and suffering, they all felt it.

“Well I’m glad we do” Sam said, “And I’m glad you dug yourself out Dean” Jo added, both meaning their heartfelt words. “Dean,” Y/N said quietly, placing her hand on his leg. “Most people wouldn’t have had the strength. They would’ve just stayed.” She assured him.

Dean lifted his gaze from the tea, meeting Y/N’s comforting eyes. “Yeah, well. Lucky me” He replied with a small dry smile, his eyes scanning her face. Dean’s eyes flickered over to Jo and Sam, both were staring at each other deeply. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I gotta tell you though, Sammy. You had Jess, you were gonna give mom grandkids. And Y/N…your dad was alive and you were gonna get married to Xander” Dean lied.

Sam’s head snapped up, an uncomfortable look instantly appeared on his face. “Yeah,” He replied awkwardly, rubbing his face. This wasn’t exactly a topic he enjoyed talking about. A frown set on Jo’s face, she knew about what happened to Jess after Sam gave her a deep dive of his life and she did the same with him.

Y/N saw the frown appear Jo’s face, immediately coming to her defense. “Yeah, but, Dean, it wasn’t real. Nothing that happened in your head was real, nor will it ever be” Y/N told him gently. Dean paused for a minute, feeling as though he had been shot for a third time.

His heart was practically ripped from his chest at her words. Dean clenched his jaw, “I know….but I wanted to stay.” He confessed gruffly before gulping down a mouthful of tea. His eyes glanced down at Y/N’s stomach, memories of the Djinn’s world were still fresh in his head. “I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since F/N and Dad….all I could- all I could think about is how much this job’s cost us”

“We have all lost so much..w-we have sacrificed so much” All three of them stared at Dean, surprised at his confession. “We know,” Y/N affirmed gently, her eyes staring at him with a mix of understanding and sadness. Sam nodded in agreement, the pain and suffering was something they all had. “But people are alive because of you. It’s worth it, Dean” Sam countered.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “It is, man. And- it’s not fair. And- you know- it hurts like hell” Jo chimed in, scoffing dryly. “But like Sam said, it’s worth it” She assured him. “And you’ve got us” Y/N reminded him softly. All three hunter’s eyes were on him, their faces were sincere.

Dean swallowed deeply, his eyes glanced back down at his tea. A small part of him wished he was still in the dream. Y/N nudged him gently, “Hey” She whispered, bringing up her pinky. “I pinky promise” She smiled softly.

A small smile cracked on the corner of his mouth, a small chuckle left his lips. Dean gently raised his hand and linked his pinky with hers. “There, you can’t break a pinky promise” She winked, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

____________________________________________

Authors Note: “yOu CaNt BrEaK a PiNkY pRoMiSe” oh sweet summer child, just you wait until the next episode💀 (as someone who takes pinky promises very seriously, I’m already in tears)

ANYWAYS, did I break your heart? Did I make things better? Or are you plotting my demise?😂😂😂

I hope everyone loves this one! Be sure to tell me what you loved or what you hated, I can’t wait to hear your feedback🥰

Thanks for reading and have an amazing day loves!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258

Xoxo

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cordycepsfem · 11 months ago

Text

Play With It

So I'm reading this book, Crap: A History of Cheap Stuff in America, by Wendy A. Woloson, mostly because I'm fascinated by collectors and how things like Beanie Babies and Precious Moments figurines became huge in the market. I just started the chapter on novelties, gag gifts, joke things like exploding cigars - you know the stuff.

And I was not expecting genuine exploration of "gendered stuff" in this book, but there it was, and damn, was it a punch in the chest. It made me realize exactly why I'd always hated pranks.

In the 1883 book Peck's Bad Boy and His Pa, George Peck argued that the "best" boys are "full of tricks." He explained, "Those who are the readiest to play innocent jokes... are most apt to turn out to be first-class businessmen." Pranking showed a high-spiritedness, a willingness to take risks, and most important, the drive to show oneself as top dog. Perpetuating practical jokes on each other was a way for the best and the brightest to establish hierarchies within bonded groups in the guise of good-natured fun.

The pranks themselves were violations; the "conspiracy" that brought about public embarrassment made them doubly so. The point of performances with theaters of aggression was to distinguish the people who were in on the joke - witnesses and collaborators - from the humiliated, who were not... Likewise, boys could have fun "scaring your mother, uncle and aunts and the neighbors" with the Tarantula (a.k.a. Mexican Spider). Just when the "victim" was starting to smile, a button on the Royal Novelty Company's Squirting Camera could be pushed, releasing "a good squirt of water." "Boys, this is the very best joke and causes no end of fun and laughter," the company promised... The "fun commenced" with the Girl Catcher only after a girl inserted her finger into one end: "No matter how hard she pulls she cannot get away! The harder she pulls the tighter it holds. When you are ready to release her she can get her finger out easily, but not before." Jokes and gags of this sort created "disruptive" and "provocative" situations that ultimately reinforced the status quo... many jokes and gags involved a distinct gender component. Jokes like Girl Catchers and Squirting Cameras gave boys license to dominate girls as they would later dominate women. What was more, these jokes made girls complicit in their own humiliation, since perpetrators needed ready victims who, because of habits of politeness and deference, would have to be good sports. Although there was nothing preventing girls from buying and deploying novelty goods, they were told in so many ways that this was not their world. Humor and play belonged to boys more than them. Despite the promise of "fun for all," joke and gag articles were in truth a boy's (and man's) game, and pranking reinforced gender hierarchies. Boys (and men) did things while girls (and women) looked on. Further, boys (and men) had the power - physically, culturally - to do things to girls (and women)... pranking reinforced the widely held assumption that the fairer sex did not possess an innate sense of humor; women didn't even have a legitimate reason for engaging in humorous activities in the first place.

These small consumables opened boys to expansive worlds of limitless possibilities far beyond the confines of the home and its stifling domesticity. Merchandise evoking wonderment, curiosity, and acquisitiveness put within boys' reach, often quite literally, fun, exciting, new, and unapologetically frivolous experiences. In contrast, the toys available to girls prepared them for the domestic work they would be performing for the rest of their lives. Advertisements in girls' magazines dutifully promoted toys offering only inward-looking experiences... meanwhile, boys' literature... promoted toys and games that looked outward, toward adventure, the frontier, and anything else that might seize the imagination.

More sophisticated jokes and gags were predicated on the prescribed roles of girls and women as domestic and domesticated caretakers. Doubly cruel, they not only reinforced women's inferiority but also exploited their submission for a laugh. Women's caretaking sympathies made them susceptible to gags like the false ear bandage and the false chipped tooth. Likewise, their charge to maintain a clean household provided the fodder for many fake ink spills on fine linens... Because an imitation cigarette pretended to obliterate a woman's careful work and ruin her furnishings, it was, apparently, hilarious. The humor of novelties was not just "transgressive" and "subversive." It was also mean-spirited and corrosive, used to demean and embarrass, "at the expense" of someone else. ... perpetrators of jokes needed not just gag and pranks but also victims to serve as the "butt" of the joke.

How many of these things are still with us today? The notion that "women aren't funny." Or "she just can't take a joke."

The toy stores with their gendered aisles, providing dolls and toy houses and pretend kitchens with very obvious marketing to girls, while the aisles geared towards boys have cars and sports equipment and robots and spaceships and building blocks. Girls' toys are still made for them to "look inward," and boys' toys are still giving them the chance to "look outward." Even "girls" versions of Lego are pink and purple, because apparently we wouldn't want those girls to build anything too serious like a car or a rocket; their sporting equipment is covered in flowers or made by Mattel and rarely holds up to adequate sporting interaction.

I worked at a toy store for a period of time and only once did I have a parent specifically ask for, then purchase, a toy version of a pretend home good for a boy. It was a woman who wanted to buy a toy vacuum cleaner for her son, who was obsessed with the family's vacuum cleaner and wouldn't accept that he couldn't run it all the time. The general idea I got from her was that instead of being a normal adult who owns a vacuum and enjoys keeping their home tidy, she was hoping that her son might grow into a vacuum cleaner retailer, maker, or repairer. Even the "girls' toy" was "looking outward," simply because it was for a boy.

I had a lot of parents ask me for toys for girls that were "less" or "more" in many ways. Where are your dolls with more clothes on? With less makeup on? Do you have a doll that's not wearing a dress? Do you have it in a color that's not pink?

We haven't grown out of this since the 1880s. And I'm tired of the periodic regression that happens with toys. The Lego I used in the 1990's and early 2000's didn't have a purple or pink version. Every kid who bought Lego in the 1990s bought a bucket full of mixed colors. The ads looked like normal kids in their play-clothes - I'm sure you've seen them, because there's been a lot of talk about how the girl in them is dressed "like a boy." No, she's just dressed like a kid.

I looked today for that image and found something actually really amazing. My jaded heart thought that I would see ads from 2023 that had girls playing with the "girl" Lego only when I looked for recent content. Wow, was I wrong.

Lego took the original 1980's ad (bottom center) and used it to create the new ads for International Women's Day this year.

It's not as hard as it looks. We can have gender neutral toys that are still fun for all kids. Toys can just be toys. And if that appeals to you, there's a fantastic group in the UK begging toymakers and book publishers to do just that: Let toys be toys.

This was a whole mess of a ride, and I'm grateful if you got all the way through. It's important for me to know that in some way we've grown beyond gendered novelty, and that we'll continue to grow beyond gendered toys.

#gender #gender roles #gendered toys #gender is meaningless #misogyny #historical misogyny

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boytoykevinday · 2 months ago

Note

Do I even want to know what happened in the last 24 hours 😭 I'm almost afraid to ask but I'm also insanely curious

You probably don't want to know but I'll tell you because you have no choice. This will be long and...awful. But there are sources so that's fun! Please keep in mind that this was all released within 24 hours on Thursday, September 20th, 2024 and that, unfortunately, I haven't mentioned everything.

But! The GOP was certainly having a wild one yesterday.

To start things off:

The first 'Big News' to break was about Mark Robinson.

For those saying 'who the fuck is Mark Robinson', he's the current (R) Lt. Gov of North Carolina that is running for Gov. Before yesterday, he was best known for openly hating LGBT+ and Jewish folks, being a Holocaust denier, being (forcefully) anti abortion, saying it was better when women couldn't vote, anti immigrant, hating the civil rights movement, etc, just being a hateful Evangelical nasty fascist. MAGA to his core. Trump has endorsed him, saying he should be cherished and calling him "MLK on steroids". (Robinson is Black).

So, yeah, that's bad enough right? Yesterday it got even worse. CNN released a report about some comments he made on a porn site forum 12 years ago, the most prominent being 'i'm a black NAZI'. He also commented that he wished slavery was legal and that he'd own a few, and called himself a 'perv' that used to 'peep' on women in public locker rooms when he was a teenager.

Also the tale as old as time that I'm sure you could guess when I mentioned 'GOP' 'loudly transphobic' and 'porn site scandal' - trans porn was a favourite of his. Because of course.

Also of course - the GOP hasn't taken him off the ticket, and he will continue to be the nominee for governor in North Carolina!

Read the article, there's more about him and the situation in general. Mind the warnings.

Now on to our favourite worm brained bear eating anti vaxxer conspiracy theorist, Robert F. Kennedy Junior! I'm putting this under a read more now.

The first thing to drop about him yesterday was the news of an investigation after he allegedly cut off the head of a dead whale and took it home 20 years ago. Now I bet you're thinking, wow that's bad! Unfortunately for RFK Jr yesterday got worse. It was then revealed that he (70) was having an affair with right wing journalist Olivia Nuzzi (31) after New York Magazine suspended her.

Everything I learn about RFK Jr I learn against my own will.

Saying goodbye to RFK for now, let's move on to Rep. Matt Gaetz of Florida! This Matt Gaetz, with the botox if you didn't recognise him.

Scary lookin, right?

This isn't a completely new story (here's an article about how he alledgedly paid for sex with a minor) but new court filings were released yesterday alledging that he attended a drug-fueled sex party in 2017 with the 17-year-old girl at the center of the alleged sex trafficking scandal.

Sure is great to have such trustworthy men representing this country!

OKAY, on to the next.

This wasn't really breaking news because this is just Trump being Trump but he gave a speech at an ANTI ANTISEMITISM EVENT where he preemptively blamed the Jews for being the reason he'll lose this election, telling them they need to get their head checked if they vote for Harris (that's pretty much part of his stump speech by now though) and saying he'll reinstate his Muslim ban. White fascist blaming Jews? Wow, I did Nazi that coming.

I genuinely could go on, I really truly could.

Oh! Kamala Harris went on Oprah and it was really nice and not at all insane and she talked to the family of the first known victim of Trump's abortion ban and it was very touching. Trump's official social media then posted a clip of her talking about her gun and saying 'If somebody breaks into my house, they're getting shot' like it was a snatch when in reality Republicans in the comments are saying 'actually, this would make me vote for her'. Thanks, Trump Team for the free advertising!

Misc:

Chris Rufo (known racist and anti immigration right wing activist) got revealed to have an illegal immigrant wife, and then got revealed to be a user of Ashley Madison (database where people go to cheat on their partners)(Robinson was also on Ashley Madison).

Jasmine Crockett during her thing and ripping white republicans to shreds. (idk this was just fun to me)

Actually Republicans and Project 2025 got ripped to shreds and shut down in general by multiple Congress members.

GOP is on the brink of causing a government shutdown, because of COURSE they are.

Cards Against Humanity sues SpaceX over “invasion” of land on US/Mexico border.

Anyway there's actually MORE believe it or not but I can't remember if it happened yesterday. Thank you for reading, I'm always open to discussing current events. I don't think it's a well known fact that I'm into politics because I don't talk about it on tumblr because people are kinda stupid. Anyway!

#mark robinson #donald trump #robert f kennedy jr #matt gaetz #kamala harris #current events #rape #human trafficking #antisemitism #racism #transphobia #us politics

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tonyspank · 1 year ago

Text

HEART 2

Summary: Rumours spread like wildfires and you have to convince the ex-pirate that you’re not such a bad person.

Warnings: Idek!

A/N: she’s so cute

Words: 2.0k

Tara Carpenter x Female! Reader

PART ONE

It was a calm Friday evening, the wind was blowing, the street lines were on and you were walking down the slightly busy paths of Blackmore University. With Chad, of course.

You two had just finished football practice, and it had been three days since the Halloween party. Chad was sweaty, his grey Nike compression shirt had a dark stain on the back, while, you were completely dry.

And the only reason you were was because you had gotten in trouble with your coach about your actions at the party. Should Chad also have been in trouble, yes. Did you take the blame for him, yes.

For your coach, the story was that you had started an altercation with Frankie, turning into a fight which led to Chad jumping in to separate it, which only lead to him getting hit in his nose.

There had also been stories going around about how Sam Carpenter, the 'mastermind' behind last year's killings in Woodsboro tased you. Saying that they wouldn't expect less from a murderer.

"Are you excited to see Tara?" Chad teases, bumping your shoulder with his fist. You shake your head as a small laugh leaves your mouth.

"About that..." Chad furrows his eyebrows, "Don't tell me she cancelled your date."

Now it's your turn to furrow your eyebrows, you turn your head to Chad, no longer watching the path in front of you. "Date?! What do you mean date!"

"What do you mean, what do I mean date?!" He says, repeating your words even louder. "It was never a date?" You state, confused.

Was it a date? Tara had given you another note the day after the party, asking you to meet her at a park not too far from the university.

"Y/N! Why would it not be a date!"

You shrug your shoulders, "I don't know!"

Chad lets out a loud groan, slapping his forehead with his free hand, "If a girl gives a note. Right?" You nod at his words and he continues, "And it says HEART, right?" You nod again, but slower.

"Then it flipping means it's a date. She put heart, twice! Not once, but TWICE!"

You stop walking. Chad also stops, and you can't help but mutter, "Fuck!" You throw your head back, continuing to walk. "It was a fucking date. But I'm not ready for a date, I mean I am!— I don't wanna end up hurting her or I just!—"

Chad stops your rambling, "I know that you're scared to date again, but Tara's not Kayla, Y/N. And she doesn't even watch football, she watches futbol, so I highly doubt she even knows who you are."

You bite on your lip, "Actually... I think she does." Chad turns his head to you, "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday... I was walking and I called out Tara's name and she sent me the meanest glare I've ever seen in my entire life. And I think I know why."

"Why?" You pull out your phone, showing Chad the articles they had written about her sister and you.

"Y/N Y/L/N attacks someone at a frat party, shortly after that the star receiver is assaulted by Sam Carpenter, a born serial killer. The victim says they were scared for their life once seeing Carpenter lift a weapon." He reads, confused. "Wait? What? You didn't even make a statement about what happened?"

"Exactly! And I didn't even physically see Sam lift a weapon, I just felt it." You say nonchalantly shrugging it off.

"Tara probably thinks you did make that statement." He mumbles, "We gotta go see her." Chad picks up his pace, and you can't do anything but follow him confused. "Wait! You mean now?" You shout out, jogging after the fast-walking athlete.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" You ask Chad, he had just knocked on the door of the Carpenter-Bailey apartment. Chad stares ahead waiting for the door to be opened, "Of course. Just hide a bit."

You step out of the view of the peephole, "Oh. Okay?" A few more seconds pass and there are multiple clicks heard before the door opens.

"Chad, hey?" You hear Sam say. "Hi! Is Tara here?" Sam steps aside, showing Tara sitting down on the couch, along with Mindy.

"Hey, sis!" Chad waves, he then proceeds to grab you by your shoulders guiding you in front of him and into the apartment. Sam's slight smile leaves her face, along with Tara and Mindy's.

"What is she doing here?" Sam asks, obviously upset by the fact that you're standing in her apartment. "She's here to explain."

You send everyone a nod and wave, "Uh, yeah. Um, I didn't actually say those things... I didn't even make a statement. I only talked to my coach and I never even mentioned that you tased me, I just said that I got into an altercation with Frankie. Then I took the fall for Chad." You announce to everyone present, Chad nods his head agreeing with your words.

"Exactly! So whoever wrote that article lied. Who wrote it by the way?" Chad then asks you, you pull out your phone and pull up the article searching for the publisher's name.

"It says," You drag out, "Um. Kayla Burke."

Tara scoffs from the couch, "Wait, what? Are you serious?" Chad doesn't even let you answer him before he snatches the phone, and it indeed says, Kayla Burke.

"What the fuck!"

"Wait, who's Kayla Burke?" Mindy questions and Sam nods, wanting to know as well.

"Kayla Burke is Y/N's ex-girlfriend." Mindy's mouth turns into an 'O' shape, and she lets out an "Ohhh! The one that cheated on you, right?"

You take in a breath, looking at the ground and then at Chad who speaks up for you almost immediately, "Mindy. Not right now." The twin holds up her hand in surrender, Sam steps up voicing her input. "So, are you going to make a statement? To get all these rumours situated?"

You quickly nod, "Yes, I can ask my coach about it so that you're not thrown under the bus." You can almost see Sam visibly relax, "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know people would say things like that."

"It's not completely your fault, I'm sorry for tasing you." You wave her off, "Already forgotten."

"So you're just going to take the blame for everything that happened at that party?" Mindy asks you with squinted eyes, it was clear she didn't trust you or just didn't believe you had a clear motive.

"I mean? Yeah? I'm already in deep shit for even fighting Frankie, so if it helps Sam clear her name, why not?" You shrug.

Mindy unbelievably nods at your words causing you to slump your shoulders.

"Tara," Her head lifts at your voice. "Can we talk?" She stares at you, waiting for you to speak.

"Um," You look around the room, all eyes on you. "Alone?" You feel Sam's eyes staring into the side of your head. "Just downstairs, please?"

Tara gets up, and walks out the door, not even looking back to see if you were following her or not. You give everyone one last look along with a tight-lipped smile, before following Tara who's seated at the end of the stairs.

You plop down beside her with a sigh, "Hey."

Her eyes stare into yours, and you can practically see the mental battle she's having with herself. She doesn't know if she can trust you, not after reading the articles about her sister and you.

And after reading the article about only you, after figuring out you were some sort of big deal to the school, she looked your name up. She found out about your ex-girlfriend and Frankie, and she believes you only helped her at the party to get back at Frankie in some way.

She also believes that you're a dickhead due to the leaked DM's people have posted of you into multiple 'Stab' subreddits.

But what she doesn't know is that you didn't want to get back at Frankie, you wanted to help her. She also doesn't know that those DM's are fake, and you don't even have any social media to direct message, anyone.

And she doesn't know the fact that you didn't know your hangout was supposed to be a date, not just a friendly get-together.

"Hey." She replies, leaning against the rail beside her. "I'm sorry about what Kayla said about your sister. I didn't even know she was back in journalism."

"Is it true about what you said about that girl?" You furrow your eyebrows at her question, "What?"

"You said something about Amber Freeman last month, right?" You shake your head, confused.

"Amber Freeman?" You say though it says more like a question. "You were texting people about Amber Freeman and how she was the peak of the ghost faces, and she deserved to get away with it."

"Tara—" She interrupts you, continuing. "Amber Freeman was my best friend, well, I thought she was until she tried to kill me. First, she stabbed me seven times, then broke my leg. And Chad, stabbed him seven times as well. So, you'd prefer to see her get away with stabbing your best friend?"

You swallow your spit, not looking away from the hard stare Tara was giving you. "Tara... I never wrote any of those DM's."

Tara's face falls, but she doesn't say anything letting you proceed to talk. "I used to live in Woodsboro and people found out, so of course they wanted me to get involved in all that Ghostface shit, but I never said anything about Amber or anything else about Ghostface."

You chuckle to yourself, "I don't even have any social media to text stuff like that."

"Well, shit." She mutters, "I'm so sorry—"

"It's okay, I have a question though." She furrows her eyebrows, "What is it?"

"Was our hangout tomorrow supposed to be a date?" Tara's face heats up, "Um. I don't— If you wanted it to?" She stutters out, a smile on her face as she finishes.

She looked so cute when she was flustered.

"I think I do want it to be a date now."

"Now?" You stand up from the stairs, holding out a hand. "What about before?" Tara grabs your hand, standing up with you.

"Y/N! What'd you think before!" She yells out after you as you walk up the steps.

You can't help but laugh at the girl.

She stops you from opening the door by grabbing your arm, forcing you to face her. "What'd you think before!"

"Wow! You really hate being out of the loop." Her smile increases, "There's a loop? More people know about this?" You laugh.

As your laugh dies down, you inspect the shorter girl's face in front of you, who smiles up at you, her dark freckles scattered across her face, and her deep dimples prominent in her smile. Along with those pink plum lips you can't help but stare at, noticing this she licks them, and you look back at her eyes, only to find them staring back with a steady gaze.

"Has anyone told you that you have a cute face," Tara whispers, you chuckle, she probably doesn't even know what she just told you as she's so caught up in the moment. Her hand reaches to your face, trailing over all of your features before lingering on your cheek.

Your heart was pounding, and you were almost scared that Tara might've heard it herself. You began leaning in slowly, drawing your lips closer to hers, she felt so warm and inviting.

Her lips part slightly, and she closes her eyes leaning in with you, you could feel her breath on your lips until you finally connected them.

At first, the kiss was soft and delicate, inside your stomach felt like a sanctuary for butterflies, but on the outside, it felt like fireworks going off, your hands found her waist, deepening the kiss and earning a slight noise from the ex-pirate.

In Tara's mind, she found herself already addicted. You and this kiss were so intoxicating, and she knew once it ended, she'd want it to be repeated.

You pulled away, and Tara shamelessly chased your lips, you chuckle. "Does that answer how I felt before?"

"No, you might need to tell me again."

Your smile, pulling her back into another kiss.

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #wattpad #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #scream 6 #scream #fem!reader

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chiceknoodlesuop · 23 days ago

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The weird forest of Portland and Salem .🐈‍⬛

this is my au it’s a little fanonish but more of just my thoughts but heavily inspired by @freezingmcxn since she’s just so amazing!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Everyone knew Salem was an odd town from the old witch trials to signs of millions of killers and body’s being found in their forest .

I thought that was cool lol

Now for the full breakdown here’s my amazing little AU 😀!

since I did say it was a little fanonish I will say there’s a big ol’ broken down mansion in the deep deeeeeeeep forest which can be only be seen in a few ways . It looks a little like the house from coraline but instead of pink it’s black with mud all over the walls , dirt , and articles of the killings .

where all the creeps or proxies actually stay are little cabins usually hidden by big trees and previous owners killed .

although the creeps and proxies have the cabins many of them prefer to move around the woods and look for victims , food , or just can’t be in the small little cabins especially busy with orders from the tall man .

CREATURES .

whoever dares to go into the eerie forest will surely meet the forest creatures.

SEEDEATER.

he’s a feral , mysterious entity that hunts off the youth like children and teens.

even adults still are not safe from this monster , the only times seeing him calm his when he’s with JACK maybe considering devouring you or keeping you alive for the sake of JACKS calmness .

( not that great of describing him but to read more about him read “Through the trees “)

WIDE MOUTHED DOG.

The wide mouth dog also know as “smile dog” has been and internet legend in Salem for years and is a tale every man , woman or child has been warned about .

The wide mouth dog as been said to be seen around the skirts of Portland. Following the always smiling dude.. or what the people of Portland call em’ .

They don’t know much about that wide mouth creature but soon they will.

.THE TALL MAN

The tall man they call him has been around for decades terrorizing and keeping fear wherever he goes .

He who orders around the violent and dangerous killers of the woods who leaves fear in everyone for decades

why is he that way?..No one knows but that small little lady in ..

(cliffhanger el o el )

TALL MANS CULT .

So this cult will connect back to the Salem witch trials because they’re my hyper fixation right now!

so back then many women were accused of witchery and sacrificing children , teens , adults .

by I would say in maybe September 1590 children started disappearing from houses and would be found in the outskirts burned with little remaints of their clothing . Or their arms slit aswell as their neck and a symbol that was said to be a circle with a X through it .

and as one would do during this time they blamed mothers , female neighbors , any female close to the child . Since they couldn’t really believe a man could do such.

But oh one man , That only went by the name of “The silent man” . The silent man was a filthy rich man who killed woman after using them and had a secret fetish of killing little girls , soon little boys.

Very few members were in the cult at the time due to the fact many were sacrificed .

Soon “ The silent man “ went manic and killed everyone he could lay his eyes upon

Wondering what he did with the bodies ? , He simply ate what he wanted . Genitals , brains , hearts , livers .

But no one knows where he might’ve gone only JACK the quiet mans sacrifice , beloved

child.

this is butt BUTTT I’m tired (haha get it)

I’m dyslexcic

#ben drowned x reader #jeffery woods #town of salem #ben drowned #clockwork creepypasta #kate the chaser #creepypasta #weirdo #slender proxy #im shitting my pants

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years ago

Note

hey can you do prompt 22 for chad please? hope ur okay!🤍

‘’What are you doing?’’ ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

I'm so happy someone picked one of my favorite lines from the list <3 Do you get the reference?

my taglists are here + you can requests (currently closed) here at any time

—

You were sitting on Chad’s bed in your night clothes, waiting for your boyfriend to join you and watch a movie on his laptop. The end of semester rush was approaching and you wanted to spend as much time together before the beginning of the madness, hence why you were sleeping at his dorm tonight.

It was only your third time sleeping over, but your and Chad's relationship was fairly new. At least officially. You and him had been dancing around each other, flirting and sharing kisses at parties for months.

Although your feelings for each other were obvious, Chad was hesitant to take the relationship to the next level. He would constantly push you away when things would get too personal. Initially, you thought it was a commitment issue, but as you got to know him more, you came to the conclusion that maybe something had happened in his past and made him untrusty of people and reluctant to let anyone close.

Lucky for him, you were patient. And very much into him.

‘’You have practice early tomorrow morning. Are you sure this is okay?’’

Chad laughed fondly, moving around in the dorm. ‘’It’s only 8pm. We’re nowhere near my bedtime.’’

You played with the corner of his fuzzy blanket, not letting go. ‘’I just don’t want to disturb your routine by keeping you awake for longer than you should. I’d feel so bad if you were tired tomorrow because of me.’’

Shaking his head, Chad walked over to you, dropping a kiss to your lips. ‘’There’s two hours before I need to go to bed. That’s plenty of time.’’ He went over to the nightstand and plugged his phone. ‘’Besides, I’m probably gonna fall asleep during the movie,’’ he confessed, feeling the weight of his day.

Then, he fell on the twin-sized bed beside you without a care, causing the bedframe and mattress to squeak under his weight. College furnitures are not the strongest.

‘’What movie did you pick?’’ Chad reached for the laptop, the movement causing his shorts to ride up his thigh, exposing a part of his past.

‘’What’s that?’’ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, seeing a pinkish scar on the inside of his right thigh.

You weren’t particularly looking there. It just caught your eye.

The light mood shifted as Chad tensed, visibly uncomfortable at the mention of his scar. He quickly pulled the covers over his legs, hiding them from your view.

‘’I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked,’’ you apologized, genuinely feeling bad for bringing it up.

You should have known not to ask about the scar. People rarely want to talk about them as they are most of the time related to something you would like to forget.

Before the Woodsboro attacks, Chad was confident about his body. He liked to show off his toned chest and strong biceps on every given occasion. But now that seven scars decorated it, he preferred to cover it — either with a shirt or makeup he had stolen from Mindy.

He was tempted to lie and say he got it when he was little, but the truth was too big and important to be covered by a fake childhood story.

Chad drew a breath, about to reveal something that would stun you. ‘’Have you heard of the masked killer murders last year in Woodsboro?’’

You nodded, having seen some articles online about it.

‘’I…I was one of the victims. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived my injuries.’’

‘’Injuries? As in plural?’’

He nodded in turn. ‘’There's more on my stomach.''

You furrowed your eyebrows, not remembering seeing any scars there.

Chad read your expression and reached for the back of his collar to pull his shirt off.

Your eyes fell to his collarbones and pecs, then his stomach, which was indeed mauled with six pinkish scars. They were healed, but the raised texture indicated that they weren't that old. You gently brushed your finger over the lines.

‘’Do they still hurt?’’ you asked, flicking your gaze up.

Much to Chad’s relief, there was zero ounce of pity in them.

‘’No. But sometimes I have dreams about that night and I can feel the knife stabbing me…’’

The dark confession made your heart ache.

You got up and went to your backpack where all your overnight stuff was, leaving a confused Chad behind. You grabbed an eyeliner pencil from your makeup bag and returned to the bed.

‘’Lay down.’’

Chad’s frown deepened, but he did as told. ‘’What are you doing?’’

You brought the pencil to his dark skin and began doodling. ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713

#chad meeks martin imagine #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #scream 6 imagines #scream 6 #chad meeks martin x you

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neptunescore · 7 months ago

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Literally started this blog just to say how hypocritical F1 – both the people working in it, and the sport itself – is becoming. The main 3 things I want to address is: no.1 women in motorsport, no2 the ongoing genocide in palestine and no3 F1's disallowance of anything political, yet enabling the absolute political shitshow that was the 2024 miami gp.

Numéro 1: I just think its absolute bullshit that the FIA genuinely created a whole ‘Women in Motorsport Commission’, assigned SIX STRONG ambassadors to it, and THEN proceeded (come 2023) to launch a wholeass unfair investigation onto one of them, based on the MOST groundless claims?? Like wtf?? (Talking abt Susie Wolff here). Also, the whole Cristian Horner situation really showed just how much they care about women working under them, bc tell me why the possible victim in his situation was the one getting SUSPENDED, while this possible filth of a man is still parading shamelessly around the paddock?? Like??? AND SOME OF THE DRIVERS COMMENTS ON THE SIRUATION?? pissed me off so much u dont even understand. Anyway, my last point on this convo is how women should ALSO be taken accountable of their actions, and not just glossed over because they’re ‘women’, over here im specifically talking abt Bianca Bustamante and her liked tweet which calls lance stroll autistic… girl :| and her apology was so atrocious as well. T-T

Numéro 2: The fact that not ONE driver (excluding Lewis Hamilton — that man is so much more than a driver) has spoken up/ posted about the situation pisses me off SO much bc?? THOUSANDS of people are dying, and with the platform you have, the fans you have, you could have such a positive effect! This is ESPECIALLY targeted on the drivers so I FULLY KNOW have control of their accounts (Charles Leclerec, Esteban Ocon, Lando Norris [GOD DO I HAVE ALOT TO SAY ABT HIM], Pierre Gasly, etc) bc tell me why drivers are fully capable of uploading a post 2 years ago stating how the WHOLE of F1 stands with Ukraine (which i do applaud them for) but cant say SHIT abt the same situation occuring in Gaza, but SO much worse?? Lando can genuinely go f himself, bc as much as i used to adore him there’s no way he did NOT know abt the atrocities happening in Palestine, no way he did not know abt the company boycott when he decided to fully display that Starbucks logo on his little reel. And IF (literally a 0.0000001% chance, bc by then a 1000 articles were already written on it and the WHOLE world was aware) he genuinely didn’t know, then that is just ignorant as fuck. Icel. Anyway, literally all drivers should be held accountable, no matter if they’re ur favs or not; I like Carlos a lot but that doesn’t mean i dont get the ick every time i think abt the fact he’s stayed completely silent on the matter. OH MY GOD, DONT get me started on lance stroll and his confirmed (yes, i DO fact check) Zionist girlfriend, like?? Ew.

Can i also just say, that if any of u are gonna msg me saying ‘oH bUt NeP, thE FIA BanNeD AnY anD aLl PoliTiCaL StAtEmEnTS’ Shut up. If you guys could just READ the rest of the statement, you'd know that this rule only applies to when the drivers are ACTIVELY in the paddock. The FIA has literally included the fact that driver can do WHATEVER the want, stand up for WHOEVER they want in their personal lives – which brings me to my next point,

Numéro 3: The FIA bans any and all political statements in the paddock, (without their written consent) YET INVITES TRUMP (a man who has been charged with EIGHTY EIGHT criminal offenses) to the race, is the most disgusting and hypocritical thing ive seen in all my years of watching F1. And don't even get me started on all the shit lando said abt him, like bro?? What are you saying?? Why are you saying these things?? I get u cant speak bad abt him, but that does NOT mean u need to praise him to the sun and back. T-T

That's my rant! Additional reminder abt ppl bringing up how '*retired driver (insert name)* would NOT stand for this, and would post and talk ALL abt palestine if they were still racing,' this is a reminder that those drivers are still alive and well, with WORKING platforms and can STILL do all those things now if thry CHOOSE to :]

-Nep○~

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saturnzskyzz · 1 month ago

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𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎

Word count: 2,009

Warning: Mature audiences only, you have been warned | inappropriate jokes and comments (you know how deadpool is) this is just fiction

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ��𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍?? 𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁!! 𝙰𝙰𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘.. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 😟. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌!! 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!! 𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!!!

Summary: Wade drags Logan along to a very long car ride followed to be his personal Uber, and best friend, to visit new Mexico for a week. Upon reading articles on the Google home page-wade- he realizes that a certain individual looks familiar from an article he read one time. So, he strikes a very interesting conversation with said individual, and finds something quite interesting and intriguing!

Divider credits

The sound of a new Honda Civic driving on an empty road could be thought of as two heroes sitting in the front seats of the driving vehicle. With the passenger jamming out to the music, and the driver peacefully in his thoughts while concentrating on the road; It was truly a cinematic experience if the two had thought about this exact moment in third person.

"Ow! Would you be mindful of where you're playing your imaginary drum set, bub?" As if the sound didn't come from Hugh Jackman himself, Logan Howlett was shown in third person, forgetting the whole "cinematic third person view" with the Honda Civic, which was what Wade- who hit the victim- had thought about.

"Oopsie daisy! It's like these drumsticks have a mind of its own, huh?" Wade huffed out a breath as he continued to slam his hands in the air to play what was heard on the radio.

Logan nodded his head disapprovingly like a father, and just continued on with the road. The peace continues.

It's not everyday that they have these peaceful drives like this. Other than when they were having to drive to where the facility of where their timelines were controlled and kept under surveillance as to not be disturbed by any high powerful GOD. Yeah, that may be pushing it. Anyway, The point is that Wade and Logan, though the claw handling mortal didn't want to admit it, they were glad they had this long drive again. The beauty of nature was an A+.

"You need to tell them why we're on the road, silly!" Wade blurted out as he was now turned, facing the back seats like he was talking to passengers.

"The fuck is you lookin' at back there, Wade?" Logan questioned, yet not really wanting to know the reason since he's trying to drive to- Oh,, right!

The reason why they were on the road is because Wade decided it would be a lovely idea to have the two take a break from their old apartment, and take a vacation over to New Mexico!

The beaches there looked lovely from the Google pictures Wade had pulled up once, just once, so that was all the good reason as to why he wanted to drive there.. Or, to sit there. He made Logan drive.

"Damn right I did!" Wade blurted out yet again, causing Logan to almost jump in his seat, but luckily for his own embarrassment, he only flinched. "Bub, what the fuck are you saying right now?" Logan asked, getting annoyed with him now.

"Oh, sorry peanut! Just reacting to this fic that's currently being typed up. Anyways, nice driving skills by the way! Oscar made sure to bring up the fact that I'm the passenger princess." Wade confidently said, pulling down the sunshade to look at himself in the mirror for some extra dramatics.

Logan glanced at him before looking back at the road in utter confusion. "Wade, you practically forced me to drive, you're not a,, Passenger- whatever you just fuckin' spurred up in your little head. And by the way, I don't trust you behind the wheel."

Wade did a dramatic gasp by that, clutching his imaginary pearls, he whipped his head to look at Logan with almost daggers for eyes. "How dare you not trust me! I am a veeeery trustworthy person, as a matter of fact."

Logan gave Wade a very interesting "oh yeah?" as to let the younger know he's allowed to rant.

"Yes, "oh yeah?"! I am such an oh yeah, trustworthy person: Yukio once left me alone in the X-Men building for half an hour to come back to the place all spiff and span! Not only that, Colossus let me hold one of his very expensive vases all because I wanted to look at it. He let me HOLD IT while looking at it, isn't that a whole lot of trust thrown into one basket?"

Logan chuckled at that. "First off, the only reason she came back to the X-Men building to a very clean interior is because you had trashed it before she even came back. And I don't mean a little trash; you had the whole place covered with things on the ground, broken, and even the walls looked terrible in the pictures you sent me. You had Colossus' help as well as mine and somehow blind Al's help to clean up the entire place in under 15 minutes- which you got scolded for by Colossus afterwards. And for the record, Yukio came back after 30 minutes because she was supposed to be gone for 2 hours helping her girlfriend with whatever they were doing, but I told her about the mess."

Again, Wade had gasped by the betrayal. He was going to bark back in retaliation but Logan had cut him off.

"I'm not done, bub. for the vase, I found that ugly thing in the trash two weeks after the fact that you had had a small obsession with it; which tell me Wade, why was it in the trash all broken up in various sizes of pieces?" Logan asked with a smug look on his face meaning "gotcha" which knowingly pissed Wade off.

"The only reason it was broken in the trash is because Mary Puppins knocked it over when she visited the place with me one morning. Colossus somehow doesn't know about that yet." Wade explained defeatedly. He crossed his arms to emphasize his defeat and frustration.

"No. He knows." Logan corrected. Still with that fucking smug look on his face, like who is this guy?

"How does he know?!" Wade looked at him in shock, desperately waiting for an answer.

"Cuz I told him, you wuss puss."

Damn, was that a jaw to the ground in betrayal². "You mother fucking, cock sucking, animal hating, snitch bitch!" Wade couldn't believe it. Like seriously, who snitches on their best friends?!

"Another thing, those examples were not what I was looking for. I said trustworthy in driving, not just whatever popped into that small skull of yours you call a brain." Logan emphasized that with a finger to Wade's temple, pushing at his head slightly to get his comedic relief friend to be even more ticked off.

"I can't believe you.. How do you go and snitch on your best friend? I'm your homeboy- we're like this!" Wade stuttered out as he crossed his pointer and middle finger to shove it in Logan's face.

"Wade, you're not my- get your hand out of my face, I'm driving here!" Logan said quickly, as he pushed at the offending hand that butted in his personal space.

"What were you gonna say, sweet cheeks? Were you gonna say that I'm not your best friend?" Wade looked at Logan all sad now.

"No, that's not what I.. Friend is a stretch in itself, pal. I appreciate the offer of me moving in with you and Al, but it's been a few years. you know..? Give it some time." Logan explained the best he could. As embarrassing as he worded it, which most likely ruined a bit of his ego, but he had trust issues.

"Just like the author said, you have trust issues, peanut." Wade said in a not-so-sad tone now. He went for crossing his arms again and looked out the window this time.

The car goes silent for a moment, much to Logan's relief since he's driving, and because he wanted to ignore his comment. They got a little over an hour left before getting into New Mexico, so hopefully the car ride ends up being dead silent until then.

. . .

"So about you not trusting my driving-" Wade was about to go on another unimportant rant before he got smacked over the mouth.

"Not. A. Word." Logan said carefully, never once keeping his eyes off the road again.

Wade had wanted to bite back with a sexual comment, but decided not to as he quite wanted his mouth open and not stapled. Yes, his mouth was stapled shut by Logan before.

. . .

Eh, on second thought.

"I'll have you know that my driving skills are immaculate!" Wade said through muffled lips.

"Oh yeah? Then take the fuckin' wheel." Logan said, letting go of the wheel as he was turning. This caused Wade to panic, and roughly took the wheel to make a sharp turn, almost hitting a tree when by passing, but successfully missed it by a smidge.

"What the fuck?!" Wade shouted, looking at Logan then quickly retreating his eyes back on the road.

Logan crossed his arms this time, pulling off his smug face as he looked down at Wade. "We almost hit that tree back there."

"Oh, you think?! You decided to let your masculinity be free while I'm over here trying to not get hit- by the way, it's very hard keeping an eye on the road while in this position.. You sure you didn't just do this because you wanted me to take a whiff of your dick? Because it smells atrocious, you should shower when we get to New Mexico."

Logan uncrossed his arms at that comment and violently pushed Wade out of the way so he could continue on with driving. "Nope. You're way too anxious, and you don't fully concentrate while driving: Remember that one time you drove into town and almost swerved into a pole all because a bird hit your side of the window?"

Wade chuckled at the memory even if it wasn't the best thing to ever happen. "Look, I get jumpy when I'm not expecting things like birds when driving. It's the animal's fault for bumping into my window. Honestly, if I had hit that pole, it should be that fuck ass pigeon who would pay for our expenses." Wade argued.

"Yeah, like that's a possibility. Don't forget the time you looked at a building for more than 5 seconds causing us to pass a red light." Logan said with a growl. That memory still pissed the Wolverine off.

"Oh yeah, ha! How could I forget you being generous to me for once?" Wade awed at the memory.

Logan was not pleased by that answer. "I had to pay for your ticket so then Al wouldn't have had to pay for it herself. I didn't do it for you, I did it for her. God knows how much money she has left with how much you steal from her. And I'm not talking about the money." Logan pointed at Wade then, almost instantly catching him pulling out a small bag of white powder with letters written on it.

"Wade.. Don't fuckin' tell me you stole her cocaine again?! As soon as I say something about you stealing, you just casually pull it out?!" Logan shouted.

"I can casually pull out something else if you really want me to." When Wade looked at Logan expecting an annoyed comment, all that Logan did was look at him with disgust. "Look, I only pulled this out to gain a reaction from you for the viewers who's reading right now. Hey viewers!" Wade turned to face the back seat once again. This caused Logan to look back twice, only to be met with empty seats.

"Jesus- Wade, you make no sense whatsoever whenever I'm with you. It drives me insane sometimes." Logan breathed out, exhausted by all the talking suddenly. (Ahh, don't you just love a social battery?)

Wade looked at Logan and then out the car window to see a sign that says "Welcome to New Mexico!"

"Hey look! We made it, honey. Time to go visit the kids, huh?" Wade said excitedly, earning a scoff from Logan.

Once again, Wade is picturing the car in third person view, as he imagines the car drifting away from the camera, as the welcome sign appears in front. After a while, the screen will start to fade and soon it all goes black, waiting for a new chapter to come.

"This is going to be a fun vacation."

#non tickles #deadpool and wolverine #Deadpool 3 #Venom #Crossover fic #writers of tumblr #wade wilson #logan howlett #eddie brock #marvle fic #Marvel #Fiction #Story

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nikimisery · 20 days ago

Text

Season 1 Episode 7 - Hook Man

It had been a few days since we had left St. Louis, and while the brothers had been incredibly sweet and understanding with me, I still found myself flinching away from Dean until his scent would hit me, and then I would be left apologizing over and over again and it would end with Dean hugging me, telling me that it was okay, that he understood, but the guilt I felt, knowing that it wasn’t really Dean on top of the face that that I couldn’t get what that monster wearing Dean’s face did to me out of my head... They kept telling me that they understood, they weren’t mad at my jumpiness, or the fact that I would growl if they got too close too fast, or the nightmares, but it was getting to me. I thought I was stronger than this. I knew I was stronger than this... Valkyrie had also been very quiet since everything had happened and that wasn’t helping. I tried talking to her about how she called Dean our mate, but she wouldn’t answer me.

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Sam’s voice sounded out from behind where Dean and I were sitting outside on the patio of this cute little diner we had found. His scent of coffee and books brushed over me as he joined us at the small table, taking the seat on the other side of Dean.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis.” Dean made fun of him as he took a seat.

“Bite me.” I almost spit out my drink at that bit of sass from Sam.

“So, anything?”

“I had them check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank.” Sam started with a shake of his head. “No John Doe’s fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m telling you, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.” Dean told him. The look on Sam’s face almost broke my heart. “Check this out. It’s a new item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road.” Sam read out loud, looking over the article Dean had pulled up on the laptop.

“Keep reading.”

“Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.”

“Could be something interesting.” I spoke up.

“Or it could be nothing at all.” Sam told me. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out.” Dean said, backing me up. Sam just nodded before packing up, handing me my drink as I got up. Dean reached up, putting his hand on my lower back to guide me to the car, and dammit, I flinched again, but I didn’t move away. I refused to let this ruin me. I let him guide me to the car, opening the door and helping me in with a kiss to my hair.

“Oh hey, Princess.” He started once he was in the car. “I got you something.” He shuffled around in his jacket pocket before he pulled out an iPod, handing it to me.

“Dean, you didn’t have to do that.” I told him, but took the outstretched device, regardless.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I put a few songs on there I’ve heard you talk about, plus a couple that I know you like.”

“You did, huh?” Sam said.

“Okay, so I had Sam do it, but I bought it, okay?” I giggled a little at that.

“Thank you, Dean...” I said, quietly. Sam tossed me a pair of headphones with a grin as I started going through the songs. There were a bunch of songs on there that Dean listened to in the car all the time, but also a bunch of other songs I didn’t know Dean even knew the names of. Fall Out Boy, Blink-182, Good Charlotte, but also Enya, Mozart, Eminem... I had always like listening to a wide variety of different music, and this made me so incredibly happy, seeing all of this. I put the headphones on and pressed shuffle, letting the music of the first song wash over me.

“May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh, how far you are from home”

I closed my eyes as the song played. This song was from one of my favorite movies. Dean had promised to watch it with me before everything happened, but we hadn’t had a chance to. I knew he would love it, it’s just up his alley. I had read the books a long time ago, also trying to get Dean to read them, but that just ended up in him telling me he would listen to me read it, but wouldn’t be caught dead actually reading it himself. I felt myself drift off, laid across the back seat with Dean’s jacket serving as a pillow, the scent of leather and pine drifting through my nose.

The next thing I knew, I felt the car slowing down, coming to a stop outside a red, two-story. Dean got out, opening my door, letting me get out before closing it behind me.

“One more time, why are we here?” Sam asked, climbing out of the car himself.

“Victim lived here.” Dean said, leading the three of us over to a group of guys working on a rundown looking car. “Nice wheels.” He started, those boys looking over at him like he was crazy. “We’re your fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We’re new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay.” He finished up, pointing between himself and Sam.

“What about her?” One of the guys asked, pointing at me, looking me up and down with a grin on his face.

“Yeah...” Dean said, trailing off. He put his hand out behind him, reaching for me. Taking it, he pulled me up to his side. “She’s mine.” He said, finality in his tone, like he was daring the guys to try something, the look on his face was hard, but his hands were gentle, and boy, did those words cause all the butterflies, not just some, ALL OF THEM. The one that asked threw his hands up, showing he meant no harm, and one of the other guys quietly pointed where to go as we walked past them and into the house. Dean held my hand the whole time, never letting go of me, which I was grateful for, with how many unknowns were in this place and everyone was staring. We made our way up the stairs, to the room the guy outside told us to go to, Dean knocking lightly on the open door. Inside was a young dude wearing yellow basketball shorts painting himself purple.

“Who are you?”

“We’re your new roommates.” Dean said, smiling at the guy as he walked into the room.

“Who’s she?”

“She’s not your concern.” He answered him, pulling me in behind him, hand still in mine.

“Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.” The kid held out the paintbrush, seemingly towards me, but as I was reaching out for it, Dean pushed his hands away from me, towards Sam.

“He’s the artist. Things he can do with a brush.” Sam looked over at Dean and if looks could kill… Major bitch face. I giggled a little as Dean pulled me behind him and over to a chair, sitting down, subtly patting his leg, giving me the option to sit on his lap. I could tell he wanted me to, but he wasn’t going to make me. I made the decision, I could do this, so I settled down on his lap, his arm wrapping around me, pine and leather wrapping me up in a warm cocoon. “So...” He started, looking at a magazine sitting next to the chair, finding the kids name. “Murph. Is it true?”

“What?”

“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.”

“Yeah...” Murph said, trailing off.

“What happened?” Sam asked him, moving the brush over his back.

“They’re saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.” Murph told the brothers.

“Rich, he was with somebody?” Sam asked him.

“Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen.” Murph answered him, sounding almost reverent.

“Who’s Lori Sorensen?” Dean asked before turning to look at Sam. “You missed a spot. Just down there, on the back.” He finished, grinning. I smacked him, whispering to him.

“Be nice to your brother.” I told him, but couldn’t quite keep the smile off my own face, which he noticed, shooting me a wink.

“Lori’s a freshman. She’s a local. Super hot. And get this: She’s the reverend’s daughter.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would you?” Dean asked, patting my leg so I would get up before taking my hand again. He pulled me out of the room behind him as Sam got the information on the church. His hand in mine was such a comfort to me. It’s so strange how, what happened to me, the shapeshifter wearing Dean’s face, could impact me so strongly, but it seemed like the only person who could bring me any solace was Dean. I wouldn’t question it, though, at that moment, I was okay.

We opened the door to the church, Dean’s hands gently pushing me through the door, grabbing my hand again when we got inside, as we waited for Sam to join us.

“Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter.” The reverend paused, pointing down to Lori, in the audience. “And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church.” The sound of the door closing behind Sam echoed through the Sanctuary, cutting off the reverend and making literally every single person sitting in the pews turn to look at us. I ducked my head behind Dean’s shoulder, hiding from the eyes on us. After a second, the reverend continued. “As a community, and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.” He said as we found a seat, filing into the pew, sitting down. “So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.” As he finished speaking, everyone around us bowed their heads in prayer, except Dean. Sam elbowed him in the ribs, getting his attention, motioning towards everyone. When he noticed, he dropped his head, along with everyone else. After the service was over and we had made our way outside, we stood off to the side, waiting for Lori to come out. We spotted her make her way out, talking to a pretty girl with long, curly black hair.

“I can’t. It’s Sunday night.” I heard her say.

“It’s just us girls. We’re gonna do tequila shots and watch Reality Bites.” She said.

“My dad makes dinner every Sunday night.”

“Come on, Lori. I know this has been hard, but you are allowed to have fun.:

“I’ll try.” Lori said to the girl, who rolled her eyes.

“Okay.” She said, hugging Lori before leaving. We took that as our cue to approach her.

“Are you Lori?” Sam asked her as soon as we reached her.

“Yeah.”

“My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean and his girlfriend, Freya.” He said as Dean and I waved at her.

“Hi.” Dean said.

“We just transferred here to the university.” Sam told her.

“I saw you inside.” She said.

“We don’t want to bother you. We just heard about what happened and...” Sam trailed off.

“We wanted to say how sorry we were.” Dean finished for him.

“I kind of know what you’re going through. I...” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I saw someone... get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.” He finished. Lori was nodding at him when her dad joined us.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean and Freya. They’re new students.” She introduced us, Dean reaching out to shake his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.” Dean told him, releasing his hand and grabbing mine again.

“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” The Reverend said to Dean, smiling at him. Dean chuckled momentarily, squeezing my hand before speaking again.

“Listen, uh...” Dean started, pulling me with him to stand to the side, signaling to the Reverend that we’d like to talk to him in private. “We’re new in town, actually. And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group.” He finished, leading the Reverend away from Sam and Lori, giving them a chance to talk. I tuned out the conversation happening around me to listen in on Sam and Lori.

“Tell me, Lori. What are the police saying?”

“Well, they don’t have a lot to go on. I think they blame me for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“My story. I was so scared, I guess I was ‘seeing things’.” She told him sadly.

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” Sam told her.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.” The Reverend said, pulling me back to the conversation in front of me. He reached out his hand, shaking Dean’s first, then mine and then, with a kind smile, he walked away.

“Let’s go get Sammy.” He said, pulling me behind him.

“We should probably go to the library, see what we can find out about this ‘Invisible Killer’.” I said to Dean.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked, pulling me along behind him as we walked through the library.

“I do.”

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” He said, making me giggle a little.

“No, man, there’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: She heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body was suspended? That sounds like the -”

“Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” Sam cut him off.

“Wait, like THE Hook Man?” I asked, Sam just nodded at me.

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever.” Dean said, pulling us down one of the isles. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began.”

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches?” Dean asked. “And the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all.” Sam began.

“What if it’s some kind of spirit?” I finished for him. “Let’s find a table, ask the Librarian for the records we need.” I said, pulling on Dean this time, Sam following behind us.

Dean and I found a table as Sam went to ask for help.

“How you doing, Princess.” He asked, pulling a chair for me. He had become even more protective and attentive since the incident in St. Louis. I could probably, quite literally rip his arms from his body, but it didn’t seem to matter to him, my physical strength. He kept a watchful eye on me at all times and it made my chest feel warm when I thought about it.

“I’m okay.” I told him. “I have my moments, like earlier in the Frat House, but I’m getting there.” Nodding his head, his hand reached out to settle on my thigh as Sam rejoined us, sitting on Dean’s other side. “Hey, boys?”

“Yeah?” Sam said.

“What’s up?” Dean said at the same time.

“Thank you.” I said, causing them both to nod. “No, really. Thank you. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank us, Shortcake.” Sam said, placing his hand on top of mine, where I had laid it on the table. “You’re family.” The words brought tears to my eyes, but I tried to blink them away before they could fall. Dean’s hand squeezed my thigh, causing me to look at him.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” He said. “You don’t have to thank us.” Then he smirked at me before talking again. “But if you really want to thank us, focus on getting better. And let us help you when you need it.” Smiling at him, I nodded, one tear escaping as I looked at him. He reached up, using his thumb to wipe away the stray tear.

“Here you go.” The librarian said, interrupting the moment. “Arrest records going back to 1851.” She all but dropped two heavy boxes on the table in front of us, dust flying everywhere. Dean leaned forward, blowing some of said dust off the box in front of us. “Okay.” She said, turning and walking away. Dean watched her go for a moment before turning back to Sam with an eyebrow arched.

“So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?” Dean asked Sam.

“Welcome to higher education.” He said, opening the box, pulling out files and distributing them out to us. I giggled a little before opening the file.

“He’s not wrong.” I said, reading over the information in front of me. Not finding anything, I closed it and moved on to the next one. That went on for what felt like hours, before Sam spoke up, having moved to the stack behind us, reading out of one of the books there.

“Hey, check this out.” He said, motioning for Dean to come join him. “1862. A preacher named Jacob Karnes was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes.” I turned in my chair, abandoning what I was reading to give my full attention to what he was saying. “Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh’.” He read.

“Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” Dean read.

“Look where all this happened.” Sam said, pointing to a different page.

“9 Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed.” I filled in.

“Nice job, Dr. Venkmen.” Dean said, turning back to me. “Let’s go check it out.” Sam started gathering everything up as Dean came back over to the table, reaching his hand out for me. “Ready, Princess?” Nodding, I reached up for his hand, letting him pull me up and after him out of the library.

After we left the library, Dean took us to get something to eat before we went out to the crime scene. We walked into this cute little diner, finding a seat in a corner booth.

“In you go, princess.” Dean told me, pushing me into the booth first. Our waiter came up, I was still having a hard time with unfamiliar men, so I just looked down, pushing myself further into the booth. If the boys noticed, they didn’t say anything. Dean ordered me a Dr. Pepper, because let’s face it, Dr. Pepper is life, before turning to me. “You looking for anything in particular?” He asked, pointing to the menu, but I just shook my head no. His hand found my thigh under the table, giving me a reassuring squeeze as the waiter brought our drinks back and sat them on the table. He asked if we were ready to order, so they boys went ahead, Dean ordering for me since I was having a bit of a hard time at the moment as Sam opened my straw, putting it in my cup. They did it for me, almost unconsciously, without a second thought, and it made my heart swell in my chest. They talked about the case a little bit as I stared out the window, trying to take in the area around us. His hand never left my thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. It was almost distracting, I won’t lie. The memory of his hands and lips and especially his thigh was still fresh in my mind, causing heat to zing through my body. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, one second, I wanted nothing more than to completely turn myself over to this man, but the next, panic would take over me and my throat would swell shut. I hated it. I hated myself for feeling all of this, but I didn’t know what to do, what to think. What was the right thing to do? What was the right thing to think?

“Here you go.” Our waiter said, placing our food down in front of us. I’ll be completely honest with you, I didn’t even hear what Dean had ordered for me.

“Thanks.” Sam told him, shooting him a smile and a nod. Dean pushed my plate over in front of me, causing me to look down to see what I had. A smile broke out on my face when I realized he had ordered one of my favorite meals. A chicken sandwich, bacon, tomato, Swiss cheese and ranch with a side of onion rings. I turned to say thank you, but he just shook his head with a smile, squeezing my thigh.

“Eat, Princess. We got a ghost to hunt.” Was all he said before digging into his own burger.

It was well after dark as we pulled down the little dirt road that led to our destination. Sam had the spotlight that was hooked to the car going, searching around the area as Dean pulled the car to a stop, getting out and opening my door for me before making his way to the trunk. He opened it up, propping open the weapons compartment before pulling out a double barrel shotgun, handing it to Sam.

“Here you go.” He said. He pulled out a second one, handing it to me.

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good.” Sam told him, checking the gun.

“Yeah, rock salt.”

“Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam replied. Dean pulled out a coil of rope before he shut the trunk, grabbing my hand, and walking off towards the line of trees we had parked in front of.

“Yeah. It won’t kill them, but it will slow them down.” He told Sam.

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?”

“I told you, you don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.” I heard a noise right as he finished speaking, so I pulled on Dean’s hand, pointing to my ear, making him stop and listen as well. “Over there, Over there.” He said, pointing, Sam cocking and raising his gun towards the sound. There was a tense pause as we waited for whatever it was to show themselves, rustling in the trees in front of us, but to our surprise, it wasn’t a ghost, spirit, or anything else we might be hunting. It was the sheriff.

“Put the guns down now!” He said, pointing his own at us as he emerged. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.” I dropped the gun as quickly as I could, following his orders.

“W-w-wait, okay, okay!” Dean said, putting the rope down before putting his hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!” We lowered ourselves down, kneeling on the gravel as he approached us. “Now, get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!”

“They had the guns…” Dean said, trailing off as he laid down.

“Jackass.” I whispered to Dean, but he just shot me a smirk.

“Brat.”

We had been separated as soon as we got to the station, but I could still hear the boys talking to whoever was interrogating them. Sam had, thus far, refused to answer any questions. Dean on the other hand, hadn’t stopped talking since we got in here, talking about how much fun he had been having, out with his girl, hazing this new idiot pledge. It was funny, I won’t lie, but I think I was getting separation anxiety. I didn’t have either brother with me and it was making me nervous. It was almost like he knew I was feeling that way because I heard his voice, clear as day, coming through the walls.

“Relax, Princess. I’ll have us out of here soon.”

It wasn’t a fix all, but it definitely helped me breathe easier.

“Ma’am?” a woman’s voice broke me out of my listening, coming into the door. “I just need to ask you a few questions.” She said, closing the door behind her. Good. At least it was a female officer.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“What were you doing out there with those two boys tonight?” My mind flashed to what I heard Dean telling them earlier, so I decided to play into it, grabbing a strand of my hair and twirling it around my finger.

“My boyfriend thought it would be funny.” I said in a nasally voice, trying to play the dumb blonde college girl thing up.

“Funny for what?” She asked.

“Something about some stupid prank on that new kid.”

“And why did you have a gun?”

“He said it would be even more funny if I had one too. It didn’t even have any of those red thingies in it.” I said, alluding to the normal shells used for shotguns.

“Yeah…” The officer said, trailing off. I was obviously doing way too good of a job at selling it because she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, mumbling ‘Lord help me’ under her breath before she stood back up, walked around to my side of the table and undid my cuffs. “You’re free to go. Just… Stay out of the woods… and maybe find a new boyfriend.” She said, ushering me out of the room and down the hall. Dean and Sam were already there, waiting on me.

“But he’s like, so cute though!” I said to the officer, pouting as I looked at her, but she just rolled her eyes at me.

“On you go.” She replied, giving me a gentle push towards the boys. Dean had an eyebrow raised at me as I reached them, the smirk back on his face.

“So cute, huh?” He said, taking his hand in mine.

“Hush.” I told him, sticking my tongue out at him, making him laugh a little at me before turning to his brother.

“Saved your ass!” He said, pulling me out of the station, Sam behind us. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I’m Matlock.”

“But how?” Sam asked, watching the door close with a confused look on his face.

“He told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you.” I added.

“And the shotgun?” Sam asked, bitch face in full swing.

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know. Typical Hell Week prank.” Dean replied.

“And your shotgun?” Sam turned to me.

“I told them,” I began, raising my free hand and making quotations in the air. “My boyfriend said it would be so much more funny if I had a gun too. Like… it didn’t even have any of those red thingies in it!” Totally overdramatizing the way I spoke, but getting my point across, regardless. Dean busted out laughing as soon as I finished talking, Sam’s bitch face was back in full effect.

“Very funny.” He said, glaring at his brother and I. “And they believed you?”

“Well, you look like a dumbass pledge.” He said, getting cut off by several different officers running out of the building to their cars.

“The hell?” I said, sharing a look with the boys before Dean opened my door and ushered me inside, getting in and following the cars.

We pulled up to the street of Lori’s Sorority House, but we couldn’t get down it, due to how many cop cars and ambulances were already on the scene, so we parked a little ways down before Dean turned to me.

“What can you hear?” He asked. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and started sifting through all of the different noises reaching my ears before I heard the familiar voice of the Reverend speaking to the same sheriff that arrested us the night before, focusing on that, relaying back to the boys what was being said.

“I just want to take her home.” The Reverend said.

“I understand that, Reverend, but Lori’s now connected to two murders, and I can’t ignore that.”

“Listen to me. Arrest her now, or let me take her home.” There is a pause before the Sheriff speaks again.

“Make sure she’s available for questioning.”

“Thank you…” He said, ending the conversation with the sheriff. “Sweetheart, you ready to go home?”

I told the boys what was going on, and we had decided that maybe we should just sneak into the sorority house so we could see for ourselves what was going on, so Dean pulled the Impala away from the curb, driving around to the next street over before parking behind the house.

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as we reached the house, walking quietly across the grass. “This is a long way from 9 Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s something else.” Dean told him, immediately pushing the two of us back against the house as two of the girls came out of the side entrance, but they were talking to each other, not paying any attention to us. “Dude, sorority girls! Think we’ll see a naked pillow fight?” He asked, watching the girls walk away, but we ignored him. Sam had already made his way up to the roof by the time Dean noticed he wasn’t there anymore. I jumped up, reaching the edge of the room, pulling myself up and ‘accidentally’ kicking Dean in the back of the head in the process.

“Sorry…” I said as he joined me up on the roof, rubbing the back of his head. “I was too busy watching those girls, didn’t see you there.” I smirked at him, but he just glared at me.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, but you could tell he wasn’t really mad at me. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back along behind him as we made our way across the roof to where Sam was opening a window. Sam made his way in, followed by Dean. I was getting ready to go in after him when I heard him and Sam start fighting. “Oh, sorry!” Dean said.

“Be quiet.”

“You be quiet!”

“You be quiet!” Sam’s voice came as I finally made my way through the window.

“How about you both be quiet or I’m going to smash your heads together!” I told them, causing them both to immediately shut up and look at the ground, each mumbling an apology before I made my way to the door of the closet we were in. “Fuck, there is a lot of blood out there.” I whispered, pulling back from the door before I could even look out, so Sam took over, pushing the door open a little before jerking back.

“Cops.” He whispered, putting his finger to his lips. Dean’s hand found mine again as I was trying to regulate the iron smell of blood surrounding me. A thought popped in my head then, so I stepped closer to Dean, leaning my forehead down on his shoulder and taking a deep breath. Relief flooded through me when, instead of the sharp iron smell of blood, I got pine trees and leather. He didn’t say anything, just stayed quiet as I was breathing, squeezing my hand in silent support. We only had to wait a few more seconds for the officer to leave the room, Sam pushing the door open and walking out, Dean pulling me out behind him.

“You were right…” Dean said, trailing off and squeezing my hand again. “There is a lot of blood here.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” Sam read.

“That’s right out of the legend.” I told them.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean said. I tapped my nose when he finished speaking.

“Do you smell that? It took me a second with all the blood, but…” I said.

“It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before.” Sam told us. Dean had let go of my hand for a second to walk over to the window, checking outside, so I took the opportunity to walk around myself, coming to the end of bed, I noticed something on the wall.

“Hey, come here.” I said, both boys joining me. “Does that look familiar to you?”

“Yeah… Yeah it does.” Sam answered me.

“Let’s get out of here.” I said, pulling the boys back into the closet with me so we could get back out the same way we got in. “Don’t make so much noise this time.” I told them, pushing them towards the window.

“Yes mom.” Sam sassed me pulling himself out of the window, but Dean just smirked at me before he spoke.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, winking at me and followed Sam. Once we were back at the car, the boys sat on the hood while I got the paper we nabbed from the library out of the back seat, handing it to Sam as I rounded the car, standing in front of them.

“It’s the same symbol. Seems like it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns.” Sam said, pointing at the symbol at the bottom of the page.

“All right, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down.”

“It’s not going to be that simple.” I told him.

“Why?”

“After execution,” Sam started, reading what I had already gone over out loud. “Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.” He finished, the brothers shooting looks at each other.

“Super.” Dean complained, standing up and grabbing my hand, pulling me around the car with him.

“Okay, so we know it’s Jacob Karns.” Sam said. “But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why.”

“I’ll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with it.” Dean answered him, pulling a ticket off his windshield before opening the door for me to get in, before getting in himself. Sam had a look on his face that said he didn’t quite believe what Dean said, but he didn’t question it as he pulled away from the curb.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Dean, adjusting my tank top one more time. I had decided to wear a pair of tight, dark blue jeans, knee high boots and a low cut black tank.

“You look hot, Princess.” He said, raking his eyes over me. “Plus, we’ll be right there the whole time, no one will bother you.”

“Yeah, okay…” I trailed off, taking his hand before he had a chance to reach for mine. “Let’s just do this.” I told them. They both nodded before walking into a party at the frat house we were in a few days ago. The sounds of the party hit me all at once, almost overwhelming me, but I kept a solid grip on Dean’s hand, grounding myself as we made our way through the people. Dean and I elected to see if we could find out any information about Jacob Karns or any other mysterious happenings around the party, so with a reluctant sigh, I let go of Dean’s hand, causing him to turn to look at me with a questioning look.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, but if we’re going to get information, I gotta mingle.”

“You can stay with me… You know we can figure this out without all that.” He said.

“I know, but I gotta get out of this funk, out of my shell at some point.” I told him, noticing a pool table over in the corner surrounded by college kids. “I’ll be over there.” I said, pointing to the table. “Just don’t go far.” With that, I turned, took a deep breath and made my way over to the table. I could feel his eyes on me, letting me know he was keeping watch over me. “You boys like pool?” I asked with a grin.

“Hell yeah, you know how to play?” A blonde guy asked me, walking up to me. I could feel the panic trying to make it’s way into my throat, but I pushed it down. I could do this.

“I love playing!” I said, college girl persona back in place.

“How about we play for something?” He asked, stepping closer to me.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about, if I win, I get your number. If you win, you get whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” I asked, twirling my hair around my finger again.

“Whatever you want.” He repeated.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” I told him.

“I’ll let you break.” He said, walking around setting up the table. I took my position as soon as he was done, intentionally messing up my shot, barely even moving the pool balls around the table. I could see his smirk out of the corner of my eye, he thought this was going to be an easy win.

“So,” I began as he looked around the table, deciding where to make his shot. “It’s so awful what happened to Rich.” I said, gauging his reaction. I could smell the initial surprise followed by a twinge of both sadness and annoyance.

“Yeah, he was a pretty okay dude.”

“What happened?” I asked, watching him sink a stripe. 15. He went again, sinking both 11 and 9 before it was my turn.

“He was stabbed to death.” I inhaled, acting shocked as he spoke.

“Does that happen around here a lot?” I asked, hand over my chest.

“No, don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” He said, smirking at me. I could see Dean, slowly circling the pool table, just on the edge of the crowd as we played. It was my turn then, so I stepped up to the table, eyeing it for my best shot.

“What do you know about Jacob Karns?”

“The crazy old preacher from back in the day?” My surprise was real this time as I glanced at him. “I’m an anthropology major.” He explained.

“Yeah, that would be the one.” I said with a nod, lining up my shot, sinking the 2 ball.

“Just know that he went crazy, murdered a bunch of hookers, got sent to prison and executed.” He told me, all things I already knew as I sank 6, 3 and 1.

“Do you know where he’s buried?” I asked, receiving a look that just screamed ‘what the hell’ from him. “I’m writing a paper on him in my local history class.” I missed the shot for 5 ball, letting him take a turn.

“Some old cemetery out off Ankeny Blvd.” He said, watching me. “His plot is out in the back, away from the other graves.” He lined up and took out the 10 and 14 balls before missing on 13. It was my turn so I lined up, sinking the 4 and 5 ball in one shot. “Thought you said you weren’t very good at this.”

“I never said that. I think I said I loved playing…” I told him, trailing off as I set up my shot for the 7, sinking it. I studied the table, trying to find a good shot for the 8, but I wasn’t finding one when I heard Dean whisper from his spot in the crowd.

“Corner pocket, other side of the table.”

I smirked as I heard his voice, following his advice. I called it to the blonde boy, whose name I still didn’t know.

“Right corner pocket.” I told him, pointing to it with my pool stick, before sinking it.

“Well, good looking, looks like you won.” He said, setting his stick down on the table before coming around, standing right in front of me. “What is it that you want?” I didn’t answer him right away, finding Dean’s eyes in the crowd and sticking my hand out to him. I turned back to the blonde as he reached me, taking my hand.

“Yeah, him.” I answered, pulling him with me and away from the shocked looking blonde, Dean snickering behind me. We found Sam standing in the middle of the party, looking so out of place. “Look at him.” I told Dean. “He looks like such an awkward sasquatch.” I giggled. He just laughed before pulling me over to his brother.

“Hey.” Sam said, noticing us.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!” Dean told him, watching a group of girls walk past us. I poked him in the ribs at that, causing him to lean down and whisper to me. “Jealous, Princess?” My cheeks flared at that.

“Focus, Sugar.” I told him, pushing his face away from mine, but he definitely caught the blush on my face, regardless of the low lights.

“This wasn’t really my experience.” Sam told us.

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?” He asked, watching Sam nod in agreement. “What a geek.”

“Hey, now. I was the same way.” I admonished him.

“Yeah, but I guarantee you were hot while doing it.” He told me with a wink, but I just scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. He pinched my hip before turning back to Sam.

“Alright, you do your homework? Freya got a little bit of information from the Brad Pitt wannabe, over there, but not a lot we didn’t already know.”

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori?” Sam started, but Dean silenced him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from as many ears as he could. “So I think I came up with something.” He told us, unrolling the piece of paper he had in his hand.

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage.” Dean read off.

“There’s a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force.” He told us as we walked through the house. “Killings carried out – get this – with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“A man of religion?” I told him. “Who openly preaches against immorality?” I swear I watched the light bulb go on in that man’s brain.

“Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his only daughter.” Sam finished for me.

“Reverend Sorensen. You think he’s summoning the spirit?” Dean asked us.

“Maybe.” I said.

“Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, the spirit latches on to the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.” Dean said, thinking it all over.

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it.”

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight.” Dean told him. Sam nodded before speaking.

“What about you two?” Dean looked away, a blonde girl standing by the pool tables was staring at us and I shot her a smile.

“We’re gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” He said with a grimace, cursing under his breath before he pulled me behind him and out of the house, leaving Sam behind. When we reached the car, he pulled me with him to the driver’s door, opening it and ushering me in and across the seat. “You good?” He asked. “You didn’t have to do that.” He told me, his hand on my thigh as he drove away from the house. I thought over his question for a second before I answered him.

“Yeah. I am, actually. I thought it would be harder than that, but I knew you were there the whole time.” I told him, shyly. He didn’t reply, but he did squeeze my thigh before speaking again.

“What exactly did he say? Off Ankeny Blvd?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah. He said the plot was away from the other graves.”

“Good, that should make things a little easier.” He said, pulling the car into the cemetery. Finding a place to park, he got out, going to the trunk to get a couple of shovels. I took that time to change out of the boots I was in and into a pair of sneakers. There was no way in hell I was going to go desecrate a grave in heels. “You ready?” He asked, shutting the trunk.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me with him as we started making our way through the cemetery. He had his flashlight, but I just flashed my eyes, looking at the headstones as we walked. A twig snapping in the bushes around us had him pausing, pulling me close to him.

“Relax, it’s just a deer.” I told him after a second of watching the bushes. The doe just watching us before she walked away.

“I’m perfectly relaxed.” He said with a scoff, pulling me with him again. It took us a few minutes, but we finally found a headstone with the same symbol that was on the wall back in Lori’s room. “Here we go.” He said, walking over to it, setting down his bag before handing me one of the shovels he had gotten. We got to work without any words, digging as fast as we could. It took us several hours, but we were almost there. I was all the way in the hole at this point, Dean’s head coming just above the edge of where we started digging. “That’s it.” He said as we finally got to the casket. “Next time, we get to watch the cute girl’s house.” He said, grunting as he finally broke through the wooden top. “Hello, preacher.”

“What, this not your idea of a good time?” I sassed at him, causing him to roll his eyes at me.

“How is it, we’ve been working non stop, digging, and you look like you’ve barely broken a sweat?"

"I don’t know… could be because I’m fuckin awesome.” I laughed at him, pulling myself out of the grave, turning to help him out.

“Sure, princess. Sure.” He said as he opened the bag, pulling out the salt and the lighter fluid. “Fuckin awesome. Right. In what universe?” He sassed right back.

“All of them.” I said, grabbing the salt out of his hand. I started pouring it over him, saturating every inch of him that I could before Dean started soaking his bones in the lighter fluid. Once he was done, he pulled a couple matches out, striking them all at once, throwing them down onto the bones.

“Goodbye, preacher.” He said. I took the lighter fluid and the matches from him, packing the bag back up and throwing it over my shoulder as he watched the bones burn. The sun was starting to come up by the time we made our way back to the Impala, Dean’s hand in mine again. When we reached the car, he opened the driver's door again, for me to slide in, but I paused, turning to look at him. He shot me a questioning look, but I just leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips.

“Thank you.” I told him.

“I’m not sure what I did, but if this is the thanks I get, remind me so I can do it again.” I smiled up at him, shaking my head a little before I spoke.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, in getting through all of this.” I told him. His hand came up, cupping my face before he leaned in this time, pressing into me. The kiss was sweet, reminding me of that night, slow and steady, but still filling me with that same intense heat. His phone ringing is what caused him to pull back, breaking the kiss. As he pulled it out of his pocket, I leaned my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his free arm coming up and wrapping around me. I listened to what was being said, Sam was calling to inform us that the Reverend was in the hospital and that’s where he was.

“Come on, Princess, let’s go meet up with Sammy.” He said, pulling back from the hug and gently pushing me into the car.

Walking into the hospital, I pulled Dean behind me, following Sam’s voice. I could hear him speaking to the sheriff. We found him, down at the end of the hallway we were walking down, but we were stopped by a couple of officers, holding their hands out, not wanting to let us through.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother.” Dean told the officers. “Hey! Brother!” He yelled out, hand in the air, waving, getting Sam’s attention.

“Let him through.” The sheriff talking to Sam waved to the officers.

“Thanks.” Dean said, pulling me along behind him. “You okay?” He asked as soon as we reached Sam.

“Yeah.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Hook Man.”

“You saw him? Dean asked.

“Damn right.” Sam said, stopping us from moving any farther with a hand on Dean’s arm. “Why didn’t you torch the bones?”

“What are you talking about, we did.” He said, gesturing between the two of us. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, yeah, the guy wouldn’t send the Hook Man after himself.” Dean said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori.” Sam told him. “Last night, she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.”

“So what?” I smacked Dean in the arm when he said that.

“So she’s upset about it. She’s upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Okay, so she’s conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching onto the repressed emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?” Dean said, seemingly pretty proud of himself.

"Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off.” Dean said, pausing as one of the doctors walked past where we were standing. “But we burned those bones, she buried them in salt. Why didn’t that stop him?”

“You must have missed something.”

“No. We burned everything in that coffin.”

“What wasn’t in the coffin, Sugar?” I asked him, the idea hitting me that I never once saw the hook. He gave me a questioning look, so I kept talking. “The hook was missing. I didn’t even think about it until now.” I said.

“The hook?”

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was a part of him.” Sam explained.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.” Dean realized.

“So, if we find the hook…” Sam started.

“We stop the Hook Man.” They both said, together.

“You guys are so cute.” I said, walking away, back down the hall.

We made our way back to the library we were at earlier, looking through more logbooks and records, trying to figure out what happened to the personal effects of Jacob Karns. We each had a big, heavy book open in front of us, but it was Dean that found the first bit of information.

“Here’s something, I think. Logbook, Iowa State Penitentiary.” He said, pulling the pen lid he was chewing on out of his mouth. “Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: Disposition thereof.”

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked him, looking over at the book next to him.

“Yeah, maybe.” He said, moving his finger over the page, looking for the right words. “Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, S. Barnabas Church.”

“Is that where Lori’s father preaches?”

“Yeah.”

“Where Lori lives?” I asked.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past 200 years.” Dean said, turning to look over at me before looking back at his brother.

“Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori’s house, don’t you think someone might’ve seen it? I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?” Sam asked.

“Check the church records.” Dean suggested. We all got up at that point, splitting up, looking for something that would help, and ended up in the sitting area, books spread out all around us. Dean was sitting in a chair, leaning up against a pillar while I was sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning against one of his legs as we read.

“St. Barnabas donations, 1862.” Sam spoke from where he was sitting in front of us. “Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.” Letting out a sigh, Sam closed the book. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Let’s go.” Dean said, closing his own book, taking mine from my hands before helping me up.

It was dark by the time we finally made it out of the library. Dean drove us to the church, opening my door to let me out when we parked.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances.” He said, once everyone was out of the car. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in.”

“Alright, take your pick.”

“I’ll take the house.” Sam told him.

“Okay.” Dean replied, taking my hand, pulling me behind him towards the church. “Hey.” He called back, pausing for a second. Once Sam was facing him again, he spoke. “Stay out of her underwear drawer.” He smirked, pulling me behind him again. I smacked his arm for that one.

“He’s not you.”

“He’s a lot freakier than you give him credit for.” He said, chuckling to himself.

“Hush, you.” I said, opening the door for him to walk through. Together, we started systematically working our way through the church, anything that looked even slightly silver was grabbed before we made our way downstairs, where the furnace was, getting it up and running.

“I got everything that even looked silver.” Sam’s voice called out as he descended the stairs and into view.

“Better safe than sorry.” Dean answered him, coming over to join us, helping us throw everything into the fire. I heard the door open and close, softly, before I grabbed Dean’s arm, footsteps loud enough for the boys to hear followed. “Move, move.” He said, grabbing his gun and pulling me with him up the stairs, but when we noticed it was Lori there, Dean nudged Sam, motioning for him to go talk to her, before pulling me back downstairs with him. “What are they talking about?” He asked me, once we were back downstairs.

“She’s not okay. She knows this is all her fault, but she doesn’t understand, she thinks Karns is some kind of ‘avenging angel’, her words. He’s trying to comfort her.” I told him. I could still hear them talking, but I heard a separate noise now too. “Dean…” I started. “Something’s not right.” The words were barely out of my mouth before we heard Lori let out a scream. I took off before I could even think about it, racing up the stairs as fast as I could. I found them in the foyer by the door we went down and barreled into Sam, knocking him out of the way just in time for the hook to dig straight into my shoulder. I let out a scream as he dug in, the hook pushing it’s way back out the front of my chest. “Go!” I screamed at him, motioning him to go after Lori, who, at this point, was all the way down at the other end of the hallway, laying on the floor. I swiped at the spirit in front of me with a little iron dagger I had found in my jacket pocket, causing him to disappear, but I wasn’t fast enough to stop him reappearing in front of Sam and Lori, knocking Sam back into the wall. He fell to the floor, a bookshelf dropping down on top of him. I raced, as fast as I could, to try and get them both up, but Dean’s words halted my actions.

“Sam, drop!” Sam hit the deck just as Dean let off a shot, causing the spirit to disappear again.

“I thought we got all the silver?” I asked, leaning against the wall, holding my shoulder. I was healing, but it still hurt and it was bleeding, quite a lot.

“So did I.” Dean answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam asked next.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

“Lori, where did you get that chain?” Sam asked her.

“My father gave it to me.”

“Where’d your dad get it?” Dean asked next, impatience coloring his words.

“He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!” Sam asked.

“Yes!” She cried as Sam yanked the chain off her neck. Scratching noises started up down the hall behind me, all of us turning our heads to watch as the hook made a long gouge in the wall before jumping over to the opposite wall.

“Sam!” Dean yelled out, throwing his shotgun to him before Sam threw him the necklace. Dean also threw the last two salt rounds at him that he had with him, but Sam missed them. They landed on the floor right next to Lori. I booked it over to Sam, picking up the shells, just as he shot at the place where the hook left its last mark, then he dropped. Taking the shells from me, he loaded the gun, but just as he was about to aim again, Karns appeared right in front of him, knocking the gun out of his hands. I grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket, shoving him behind me as I placed myself between Karns and Sam. Lori was still on the ground doing her best to hide behind Sam. Karns lifted his hook, moving to swipe it down across me again when he burst into flames. Dean must have gotten the necklace in the furnace just in time. I collapsed back against Sam as soon as he was gone, holding my shoulder. It wasn’t bleeding as badly now, but it still hurt like a bitch. Dean appeared right after that, rushing over to us after taking a look around, assessing the situation. Dropping to his knees next to me, he brought his hands up, moving mine off my shoulder before taking a look at it.

“You good, Princess?” He asked, putting pressure on my shoulder. Letting out a hiss, I answered him.

“Peachy.”

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Still holding the pressure, he pulled me up, Sam’s hands on my back, helping push. Once we got outside, and the cops came, Dean pulled his jacket up around my shoulders before pulling me with him to talk to one of the officers. I just leaned against his chest as he spoke, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as I waited for my shoulder to heal.

“And you saw him, too?” The officer asked. “The man with the hook?” I nodded my head, but Dean spoke for me.

“Yes, I told you, we all saw him. We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.”

“Listen, you, your girl and your brother –“ The officer began, but Dean cut him off.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.” He said, pulling a giggle out of me as he pulled me over to the car and away from the officer. Once he got me into the car, he pulled his jacket back, inspecting the almost nonexistent wound in my shoulder. “You gotta be careful, Princess.” He said, running his fingers over it.

“I’m okay. It was either me or Sam.” He had a look on his face that I couldn’t place, but he didn't say anything, just nodded at me as he pulled my shirt back into place, the jacket following it. Leaning over, he placed a small, chaste kiss on my lips before getting into the driver’s seat, settling in and waiting for Sam to join us.

“We could stay.” He told him, as soon as he was in the car and settled, but Sam just shook his head. I could feel the disappointment coming off him, but he didn’t say anything else, just put the car into gear and drove away.

“Nik…” Sam started. “Next time, let me take the hit.”

“Not gonna happen, Sasquatch.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Dean cut in. “Why do you call her Nik?”

“Her middle name is Nicole.” Sam answered him with a shrug.

“Freya Nicole Ashford… Sexy.” Was all he said as we drove out of town and onto the highway.

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