#spntl

[doctortreklock]

Vogue - May 8, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "The skirt is short on purpose." (x)

Fandom: Supernatural

Words: 628

"Stop that," Cas said, swatting Dean's hands out of the way. "The skirt is short on purpose."

"On purpose?" Dean exclaimed. "You mean women dress like this because they want to?" He tried in vain to pull the hem down further, but to no avail.

"I don't know about that," Cas said thoughtfully. "The gender politics of women's clothing can be a very complicated topic, but I believe the women themselves were not consulted about Western standards of beauty."

Dean shot an incredulous look at his boyfriend, but stopped tugging at his skirt, instead trying to balance a large, heavy handbag on one shoulder while wobbling dangerously in four inch heels. "Standards of beauty, my ass," he snapped. "I don't see you walking around in this get-up. Why couldn't Sam do it?" he added as his brother opened the door to the motel room the men were sharing.

Sam burst into laughter when he saw Dean and was shaking so hard he struggled to close the door behind him.

"Shut up," Dean snarled. An attempt to turn further toward his brother left Dean off-balance, and he had to pinwheel his arms slightly to keep from falling over before Cas steadied him.

Sam laughed harder and had to lean against the door to keep himself upright.

"As you professed an interest in 'exploring the watering holes' around the motel last night, you were unavailable this morning to visit the coroner's office or question witnesses," Cas informed him, complete with air quotes. "Elias Hickory has met both Sam and I, so neither of us can 'go undercover' at the Crossed Swords, an establishment which specializes in serving alcohol to homosexual men, especially those that enjoy dressing in traditionally feminine clothing."

"Yeah, I got that," Dean said shortly, dropping the bag back on the bed, where it landed heavily and bounced slightly. "What did you put in here, Sam, rocks?" he asked, roughly rubbing his hand over the shoulder he'd been attempting to carry the bag on.

Sam's snickers trailed off and he straightened up, walking over to the bed. He opened the bag and showed its contents to Dean. "Just everything you might need to take out a rakshasa. Two brass knives, an angel blade, a first aid kit," he pointed to each item as he listed it, smirk steadily growing. "A second pair of heels, another tube of lipstick, three bottles of nail polish--"

Dean went to smack his brother hard on the back of the head, but Sam dodged out of the way. "--And a bottle of lube," he finished through a smile. "Just in case Hickory gets frisky." The last line was accompanied by an eyebrow waggle that made Sam look a decade younger.

Dean scowled and upended the bag across the bedspread. He put both knives and the angel blade back in, then tossed the bottle of lube to Cas, silently daring his brother to comment.

Sam pointedly ignored the implication, choosing instead to brandish one of the discarded lilac pumps at Dean. "You sure you don't need these?" he teased. "What if you break a heel?"

Dean threw the tube of lipstick at Sam and it rebounded off his forehead. "I'll take a cab," he snapped.

Bag now slightly lighter, Dean slung it back over his shoulder and turned to Cas with a sigh. "Best get this show on the road, I guess," he groused. "Before Samantha here gets any more ideas."

"After you, Deanna," Sam said with a grin and a sweeping gesture. "Wouldn't want to keep dear Hickory waiting."

As Dean stomped over to the door - as much as he could stomp, considering his footwear - he flipped Sam off. "Damn hippie," he muttered.

Sam's chortling followed him all the way out the door.

[wvinterisms]

cont’d from 「 ❄️ 」 || @riingleaders

❝ You seem so confident in your words, Mr. Barnum. ❞ Spending her time hiding in the outskirts of towns and cities came to an end as soon as the ❝ circus ❞ man came to her with his proposition. But the blonde was still wary, and with good reason. Observant eyes had seen the way the rest of his family of others had been mistreated, and it all reminded the European of her home town in Norway where she was scored -- almost killed for being what she was. Something she had no control over.  

 ❝ As much as I do not wish to hurt others... THEY have a point. ❞ Blue gems look into the man’s eyes showing how cold her facade and abilities could truly be.  ❝ I can be DANGEROUS, Mr. Barnum. There is no mistake in that fact. Are you really willing to take that risk ? ❞ Her words were more than a mere facade, but the timbre of them was serious just the same. If Elsa was honest in her desires, she did wish to have a home again-- to have somewhere to belong. But to give in to such selfishness... the ice witch could not. 

[jstbee]

spntl otft by youtube-is-my-obsession featuring long sleeve shirts ❤ liked on Polyvore

Long sleeve shirt / MANGO trench coat / Joe's Jeans boyfriend jeans / Converse high top / Jennifer Zeuner chain necklace, $155 / Beanie hat

[tacocat101]

I honestly think the Destiel kiss is going to happen by Dean and Cas arguing and yelling at each other then Cas gets so frustrated that he just kisses Dean to shut him up and Dean just goes with it 

[snorklady]

HOLY FUCK ok so me and my mom were talking about Supernatural and about the whole Sam being possessed by Lucifer and all that jazz AND I LOOK UP AND THERES A FUCKING JEHOVAH WITNESS STANDING AT MY DOOR AND HE LOOKED TERRIFIED AND I STARTED LAUGHING MY ASS OFF AND HE JUST SLOWLY BACKS AWAY LIKE BITCH YOU NEED JESUS

[fandomindpalace-blog]

Casual affair

Imagine Sam spotting you from in a tree, and trying to stay hidden. 

Rated: K+

Words: 1,405

Pairing: Sam X Reader

WARNING: Mild cursive language, moments of intimacy.

As you walk along the winding cobbled path, your long hair dancing with the breeze, you sing quietly to yourself along with your music. “Gold on the ceiling” runs along the wires bouncing against your stomach and up into your ears. This, of course, causes you to become a human speaker as you resonate the sound through your vocal box.

You grow tired of your long walk and so decide to stroll over to a large oak tree that you see in the distance. You continue to sing quietly, looking up at the blossom petals falling into your face and watch them swooping around your feet in ordered gushes of pink. You near the large branches that have started to hang over you, unknown of the tall man that was sat up amongst the clouds of blossom.

Sam was slumped against the main trunk of the oak, resting his chin on his strong forearm and watching the same petals that your eyes had been previously locked on. Trying to drown out the world around him, Sam closes his eyes but couldn’t quite knock reality out of his conscious. Something was distracting his trail of thought, dragging him back into the world around him. Not a snake dragging into prey into it’s locked jaws, but more like a butterfly capturing and reflecting a stream of light off it’s wings. An almost silent wisp of notes encase Sam’s ears. His eyes flutter open and look around for the source of this angelic noise.

As he peers over a small branch to his left he catches sight of a girl with beachy waved hair, draped over her shoulders. Her simple sky blue maxi dress blowing around her ankles and small gladiator sandals tapping each cobble as she walks.

As you are approaching the tree, your long dress catches a strong draft and blows up to your calves. You approach the tree and swivel round on your toes, lowering yourself into a cross legged position in one swift move. Your back leans against the trunk of the tree. Up from you about 3 metres, Sam sits in an almost identical position as he has reclined into the shadows of the overhanging branches to hide himself from you.

You take out “An Imperial Affliction”, which you’ve read about 10 times and start reading whilst still humming to yourself. Sam gains enough confidence to bend back over a smaller branch just to the right of you, to watch you reading. You don’t notice him, that is until he nearly falls on top of you by leaning too far over.

Sam begins to stretch his neck, putting slightly too much pressure onto his hands that grip the delicate branch. A low creak resonates from the branches anchor to the tree, and the cellulose fibres of a twig tear as Sam’s little finger edges it to bend. There is a “snap” as the twig falls to the floor, landing so precisely and slotting between two of the cobbles so that it disappears.

Your head quickly spins around, your eyes flitting between it’s range of view. You can’t see anything new, and twist your body round to look behind the tree. Nothing. You then look up.

Nothing. Sam has silently sat back up, sinking his body back into the shadows and out of sight. In the end you brush the noise off as a squirrel crushing a nut and get back to your reading and humming. Sam suspects that it’s too risky to look back down so stays in place and just listens to your voice.

The sun beams into Sam’s eyes, rays blinding his retina. He suddenly feels a tingling sensation in his right nostril. Before he can stop it, his body jerks and he sneezes, letting out a small “choo”.

You flick your head up towards the squeaky noise that sounded like a small puppy coughing. You see Sam’s foot that has flung out and is hanging over the small branch just above your head. He gives up trying to hide and sits up, looking embarrassed and guilty.

"Sorry" he says is a deep rumbly voice. You stand up and move so that you can see his face. Your breath catches in your throat as you lock eyes. ‘Those angels must have been hard at work with sculpting that one’ you think to yourself and then internally laugh.

His eyes gleam into yours and a large smile spreads across his whole face, small creases appearing next to his eyes like whiskers and dimples pressing into his cheeks. “It’s fine” you laugh realising you haven’t said anything.

Before you can do anything else Sam jumps down right in front of you, and you make an effort not to stumble back even though he really takes you by surprise.

"What were you doing up there?" You ask Sam, trying to avoid eye contact because you think you may faint.

"I was just erm." Sam desperately searches his mind for anything that doesn’t sound too weird. "I was just out on a jog and decided to have a rest but didn’t want to get dirty on the ground." Sam lies awfully. You look down at the ground questioningly and see that there was no mud there at all, but you decide to play along with his story. "Does that mean I have dirt on me, you ask turning round to show Sam your bum.

Sam automatically peers down but then looks straight back up again awkwardly embarrassed. “No no, you’re fine” Sam smiles cutely, red roses blossoming his hollow cheeks. You turn back around, a small smirk pressed into your mouth.

"So what were you doing sat under the tree?" Sam asks trying desperately to change the subject.

"I was taking a walk and got tired" you said simply.

"Oh" is all Sam can think of replying with. He looks down at his distant feet.

'What are you doing just talk to the girl' Sam thinks to himself. Deans voice takes over the building criticism “Holy crap come on Sammy, you're hopeless with women. Just like that girl Madison! It took you three days of awkward silences to finally get her. You don't want that to happen again do you” deans sarcastic hiss drains through Sam's brain. 'Shut up dean' he scowls his brother.

"Are you okay?" You interrupt Sam’s imaginary argument which has been going on for a couple of minutes now. Sam’s face jerks up surprised.

"What? Oh err yeah I’m fine thanks" Sam says guiltily, shaking his fluffy locks into his face. He flicks them back, dropping a small twig into his forehead.

"Oh you’ve got a twig on your face" you say pointing up to his head.

"Oh where?" He asks stroking his cheek.

You giggle at his confused actions, and reach up your finger, standing on tip toes to try and reach his face. Sam spots you stretching and crouches down slightly, leaning his body towards you.

Your small fingers brush the tree residue from his skin and you can feel his eyes fixed on yours in a sort of trance.

His face fly’s towards yours, a dart streaming through the hot air. In an instant his soft lips are on yours, exploring every nook and cranny printed into your flesh. His body is leaned right over, bending at the hips to reach down to your height. His hand, cupping your cheek, stroking the freckled skin covering the high bone. Your entire body sighs as your stretched limbs begin to relax. Your stomach flips over itself, a loop-the-loop of buzzing energy. The jittering shocks run up and down your legs filling your body with warm tingling.

Your mouths and heads slowly separate, your lips paralysed into a pout. You rub them together, tasting Sam, sweet and hot. He smirks at you, obviously pleased with himself and you roll your eyes at his cocky expression. However your cheeks blush slightly remembering the feeling of his large hand, rubbing against your skin. 

“I’m thinking we should go get a drink” Sam says tilting his head like a puppy. You don’t say a word but start strolling back down the cobbled path. As you walk past Sam you reach out your hand and tug at his wrist, pulling it along as you walk. His mouth curves up at one edge into a sexy side smile as he follows your footsteps.

[thats-what-its-reallyallabout]

OHMYFUCKINGGOD IS DEAN TURNING INTO A DOG HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS SHOW

SO YEAH IVE JUST STARTED SEASON 9 AND HOLY SHIT DOGGY-DEAN IS ADORABLE AND THE DOG IS THE BEST THING EVER WITH HIS VOICE ASDFGHJKL

[doctortreklock]

Nightmare and Casper - July 3, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "We can't keep doing this." (x)

Fandom: Supernatural

Title: Comic book title (x)

Words: 807

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Dean shook his head and glared at the Wyoming hills disappearing beneath Baby's tires. He turned up the Zeppelin tape playing through the speakers. Then he turned it down again. "Are you sure we've been to Casper before, Cas?" Dean snapped tiredly. "I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered this." He gestured with one hand to the vast expanse of nothingness to either side of him.

"Yes, Dean," Cas told him patiently. "I asked you if it had any connection to Casper, the friendly ghost. You told me it was his birthplace."

Dean frowned faintly at the memory. "Oh yeah. I remember now."

"You thought the case was a ghost," Cas continued.

"Right."

"It was not." Cas's voice was even.

"I didn't have any way of knowing--" Dean protested, but Cas spoke over him.

"It was a poltergeist."

"Yeah, yeah, enough already," Dean groused. "It's like a ghost."

"It was not pleasant," Cas informed Dean solemnly, as if he hadn't been there for the whole thing. "I was thrown through a plate glass window."

"Drop it, Cas," Dean demanded, but there wasn't any heat to it. "You were so powered-up at the time, the glass rolled off you like water. When I went through a window in Detroit six months later, I was picking glass out of my hair for a week."

Cas frowned at the memory. "Nevertheless, Casper is on the List, so we are going to Casper."

The List was new. Despite Chuck's dire warning that they were in "The End," it had taken Sam finding a news story out of Texas about the ghost of Mordechai Murdoch murdering a girl for the hunters to realize what had happened. They had hurried to Richardson and found the house the Tulpa had once occupied still burnt to the ground from where the Winchesters had left it fifteen years previous, though the spirit wasn't nearly as destroyed as the house had been. Luckily, Cas was older than dirt and had a few tricks up his sleeve. In this case, sigils that could reverse the magic creating the Tupla in the first place.

After that, it became depressingly easy to pick out past success stories in brand new, gory headlines. The good news was, they already knew which monster was which and how to kill it. The bad news was that the monsters knew they were coming. And boy did they hate the Winchesters. Simple salt n burns got infinitely more difficult when you’d already done the salting and burning and the ghost was still there. Luckily they had Rowena, but her spell for dismissing spirits was still in testing, and angry specters didn’t tend to wait patiently while you drew a chalk circle around them.

Dean and Sam had gotten the largest whiteboard they could find and tried to list as many cases as they could remember. Cas had chimed in where he could, and they’d eventually had to graduate to a spreadsheet, which Sam sorted by urgency and geography and printed out on a dishearteningly large number of pages. This was the List that Dean, Cas, Sam, and Rowena had been working off of for the last nine weeks.

Dean was damn well getting sick of it.

--

"We can't keep doing this," Dean sighed, watching yet another rolling hill disappear in his rearview mirror.

When he didn't get an answer, Dean glanced over at the passenger seat. "Cas."

Castiel turned his attention from the Wyoming wilderness to the Winchester. "I am not sure we have much choice in the matter," he said. He sounded exhausted.

Dean understood why. The pair had been on the road for over two months straight, traipsing all over the western half of the continental United States. In some ways, it felt a lot like the way hunting had been pre-bunker, when the Winchesters were living out of motel rooms and constantly on the lookout for new cases.

There were a few differences this time, though. For one, there was a fallen angel playing shotgun instead of Dean's annoying younger brother. For another, they weren't exactly scouring newspapers and shady websites for mysterious happenings. Not since Chuck had declared this to be "The End."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Dean pointed out angrily.

Cas didn't argue. "If it helps," he offered, "I believe we can now cross Wyoming off our list."

"Really?" Dean asked, straightening slightly in the driver's seat. "Wasn't there a kitsune left in Cheyenne?"

"I haven't been able to find any evidence that she's been feeding," Cas told him. "And based on the frankly alarming state of Colorado, I think we can afford to let her go for now."

"Colorado, hmm," Dean said grimly, settling back down into the leather bench seat and pressing his foot incrementally down on the gas pedal. "Fort Collins, here we come."

[horan-hightops-blog]

YO THAT EPISODE OF SUPERNATURAL JUST FUCKED ME UP WTF

[sunshine-angel-fairy]

I'm watching LARP and the Real Girl with my parents because its hilarious. And the beginning, when the guys on the phone saying arguing with the other guy and he's like 'its just a game!' My dad goes 'No it is NOT' omg

[banterbears]

I'd like to watch supernatural but where

where

[ownsy-blog]

Dean Winchester