#stanford era baby tag

[milfcodeddean]

more of the stanford/s1 era Dean with a baby (is it Emma? is it a baby half-sibling? is it a product of a one-night stand? use your imagination) @saintedcastiel mentioned Dean breaking into Sam’s apartment wearing a baby bjorn. I think Dean would have had the baby wave at Jess, and Sam would have been completely gobsmacked 

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 5 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the second year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning traditions 

warnings (TW): swearing, gambling, illegal activities, illusions of past abuse 

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining

notes: canonically no one knows anything about shermie really, which would be hilarious if I didn’t have to write about it \\ also i feel like there not too much fluff in this (could be really fucking wrong lol) but the next part i have drafted is sickingly sweet so just give me some time 

Also (again) i’ll begin linking a legit masterlist below with all the parts! I thought of renaming each era but the naming part of things is where im legit the leassst creative for some reason? maybe later idk? but anyway! so much love from everyone! thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate the love and the comments, thats why i continue writing this ahhhhhhh! thank you!!!

word count: 4.4k 

| masterlist | part vi |

March, 1984 

It had taken her several months to come to terms with what had to be done for the sake of their identities. 

He had been more open with her concerning his past in that one two-hour conversation than he had in the past year in its entirety. Something that would shake a normal woman, but she had become so oddly attached to her new partner she almost didn’t care about the picture he painted of what he used to be - something he insisted he still was. Bad. He had said to her that night. That he wasn’t any good. 

The painting only flooded with more color, in those following months after said heart-to-heart. His conversation with his mother spoke of it. It also spoke of a man who truly honestly couldn’t be the picture he had painted. 

It’s something they had both tiptoed around, conversations of their parentage. Of course, because of Ford, she knew that they grew up in the typical American nuclear family home, with a mother who lingered in doorways and a father who raised his hands as frequently as his voice. But she didn’t know how intertwined Stanley had been with his mother in particular. 

Which was hard, considering he was now legally dead. 

That first frantic conversation they had had over the phone had shaken him, had him reconsidering. But watching Doc’ wait in anticipation and disbelief in the next room over quickly made him change his mind. It was so they would be safe, he reasoned. 

His mother had called believing she was calling Ford after she received the shattering news that her baby boy was presumed to be dead. Baby being used here loosely, seeing as Ford was only truly older by a mere fifteen minutes. 

His mother hadn’t been shocked Ford hadn’t contacted her in that past year, something he had shook off every time he passed the landline. He thought to call her. But she was quite hung up on not having heard from Stanley that past year, insisting in her ways that surely he would have called, her free-spirited boy was always much more inclined to call her, something she had never blamed Stanford for of course. Just a flippant difference between her two boys. One called and the other lingered in doorways, like her. 

Stanley had reasoned with her over the landline. Insisting that he, unfortunately, would not be able to make it to his own brother's funeral, something she had tisked at, raising her voice to who she assumed was Stanford. This is your brother! She had insisted. You loved your brother, don’t say you didn’t. Everyone makes mistakes, you need to forgive him now. 

It was not until after the event that she called again, telling him not to worry. That she had attended for him, but that his father was just as busy as him. Something unspoken between them, just as stubborn. She had meant to say. Just as ignorant. 

His mother spoke with him in a different tone over the phone, a difference in how she held cadence when she was talking to Stanford rather than Stanley, something he wondered if Poindexter ever noticed. 

His Doc’ knew the conversations drained an odd part of him, so she did her best to work around him when his mother did ring their landline. Something she did semi-frequently now that Stanley was officially dead. 

In the beginning, she had lingered in the next room, then drifted through doorways, and eventually made it until she sat at the kitchen table with him, playing with his fingers in hopes of baiting him away from the phone. If the conversation was shorter then surely he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t for too long. 

She later realized this was a mistake, no matter how his impression of his brother gnawed at an odd part of her psyche. So she moved from him, doing dishes and cooking. But still oddly near him. 

It was easier to lean into domesticity when she played it so well around him, and it made the phone calls less nerve-wracking to take. Pretending his wife was doting on him, that his long-distance mother was calling to check in, and pretending he wasn’t a fraud and a failure. So he usually insisted on her presence. And he pretended that she played a role in it all and that his mother didn’t sound different over the phone. One big lie to make him breathe better. 

It’s after one of these phone calls that he slumps deep in his kitchen seat one day, and she turns from the dishes in the sink to ask what’s wrong. 

“We’re gonna have to tell her one day.” 

“What?” 

“That we’re married, doll.” He crossed his arms, a contemplative look overtaking him. The first time he’d said the word since that conversation in the car. “I don’t know how long until we have ta’, but I know we gotta.” 

“Okay.” She hums, hands still sudsy from the sink. “Is there any other family we may have to tell?” 

“My older brother, Shermie. But he’s in Cali not Jersey like my ma.” He hums. “Older than me, don’t know him as well. But he is closer.” 

“And will he be able to tell?” She asks. “That you’re not Stanford?” 

“Nah.” He sighs. “He’s got a wife though, and a kid from what I remember. A baby girl, probably about ten now.” 

“Oh my god, so you’re an uncle?” She laughs, a smile splitting her face once more. 

“Ya doll, have been since I was 18. Remember meeting her, but pretty soon after I hit the road.” 

He had been fond of her, from what he could remember. The baby girl had rarely left the crook of his doting mother’s arms, but when it came to be his turn to hold her he enjoyed the warmth and weight of her. And her gummy smile at his continued insistence. He still remembers her tiny hands, fisted around one of his fingers. She had been small, smaller than he had imagined babies could be. He bet she was still small, it felt hard to imagine her as more than a swaddle in the swell of his arms now. 

Silence breaks between them again. “Well for what it’s worth I think you’d be a great uncle, if you could have been closer to her that is.” She hums, moving back to the sink to wash some more dishes. Her hair curved around her soft face, beautiful in her usual careless way.

Maybe he would have been. 

June, 1984

They had started a tradition in their home. A young tradition, but she figured it still was one since they had promised to go about their day the same way as they had the previous year. Except this time they had thought to prepare. 

The town they resided in was odd for sure and had an affinity for the unexplained and perhaps more creepy pursuits. The town had a tradition of its own in which they held a Halloween event twice a year, Summerween they called it. 

Not that they had known of it their first year residing in the shack, but it was quite the surprise to open the door to trick-or-treaters in mid-June. The children had unknowingly interrupted Stan's attempt to teach her how to play poker. Unfortunately for the children, they didn’t have any candy on hand for them that year. Without anything to give them, the kids retaliated by tee-peeing their yard that same night. 

She had found it only slightly annoying, having to clean it up the next morning. But it quickly fell into amusement, watching Stan stomp and curse while pulling toilet paper from bushes and trees. He didn’t enjoy a prank that was not his own. And he wouldn’t be caught unaware the next year. 

Which was why they had wandered around town that last week, looking for supplies to decorate their porch and getting last-minute off-brand candy. She had scoffed at the shitty candy they had bought but figured it was more or less all they could afford. She had eyed up the bigger bags of nicer candy, chocolate had always been a weakness of hers. 

Stan had also bought what he called “Scary Stan” supplies. Silly string, odd meats, and fake blood found its way into their shopping cart. Along with supplies for caramel apples upon her insistence. 

They had made a night of it, decorating their porch with fake spider webs and the town's traditional carved watermelon jack-o-lanterns. She had gone ahead in making caramel apples also, bagging them up as she went for the children. Perhaps it would make up for the shitty candy. 

In keeping with tradition, Stan thought to continue their poker night as they had been doing the previous Summerween. So their night was spent in an identical fashion almost, with detailed explanations of correct poker etiquette from Stan with interrupted rushing to and from the door to give awaiting kids off-brand chocolate and homemade caramel apples. Except they sat across from each other in costume now. She had been amused when he had insisted on them being matching, he had flushed in embarrassment in the store that week, pleading his case after his initial insistence. Like it was only natural that they would match. She barely fought it, something odd aching in her chest at his rather sweet insistence.

“Come on! It’s a good idea!” 

“What are we Stan, twelve?” 

“No, we're married. Just as embarrassing.” He had said flippantly, his ears red in a flush as he shoved two capes into the shopping cart along with everything else. 

Which is how they ended up here tonight, sitting across from each other in the dim kitchen light, both dressed as a gaudy vampire couple while Stan explained for the fourth time the probability of getting a royal flush. Her feet propped up on his lap, like always. He had bent down to grab them, folding them into the curve of him. 

He had tried not to stare too long when she came down the stairs earlier, her matching velvet red cape and shitty plastic vampire teeth sat oddly in her mouth. But it was one of the first times she had done her makeup like that, all dark and creased around her enchanting eyes. And the first time he had ever seen that black shirt, which had a surprisingly low cut. All the more distracting. 

This is why he was stumbling through explaining what a royal flush was for the fourth time, and probably why she was looking all confused at him like that also. 

“Okay doll, let’s run through this a couple of times, then we’ll put in some real steaks here.” 

“Stan we are dead broke we are not gambling money tonight. You’d rob me blind!” 

“Shush!” He insisted, smiling across from her. “Just a couple rounds, I’ll show you some good hands and we’ll go from there, okay?” 

They were interrupted interspersedly from time to time during their practice rounds, Stan usually being the one to race out to the porch first, in hopes of scaring whatever little kid dared knock on their porch door. 

Of course, if the child was too young he’d call for her. She had put up a fight with him about scaring kids that were younger than ten tonight. Which he had been glum about until he watched her with them. 

She’d gush at the doorway, complimenting costumes and handing out her caramel apples she had slaved away over. She had this certain smile too, and silently in the back of his mind he thanked any little kid who knocked on their door that night because she looked particularly enchanting when she was kneeling down talking to them. Like she was always meant to be doing that. 

Anyone over ten was free for the taking though, and he took particular pride in scaring any poor sap who was old enough in her eyes. The fake blood in particular came in handy, and she would laugh when he’d routinely come back from the porch door slathered in it. She silently thanked those kids tonight, because he seemed to be particularly enchanting when he laughed like that. Like he was always meant to be this carefree. 

The poker games practice rounds were over though. And he had a particular surprise just for her. 

“Ta-Da!” He said, while pulling out a bag of candy from the very top cabinet she could never reach in the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, is that chocolate!” She gasped again, reaching for the bag. “Name-brand chocolate! Awe, you shouldn’t have Stan.” She encased it in her arms, hugging it like a stuffy. It was the bag she had been eyeing up in the grocery store not even a week ago.

“Ah-ah!” He moved to grab the bag back. “This is what we are betting with tonight, doll.” Candy back in his hands, he moved back to his seat. Opening the bag to evenly disperse the individually wrapped candy between the two of them. 

“How’d you even get that bag, Stan, we can barely afford everything else we bought.” 

“You don’t wanna know, hun.” He said, shuffling her candy pile in front of her. Okay, so he had stolen it, so what? He hadn’t called her “hun” in a while though. Distracting. 

He almost never called her that sickeningly sweet name now, something she thought about far too often for her good. She missed that term of endearment in particular for some reason. But perhaps Stan found it to be too domestic, too personal for what both resided between them now. Perhaps it reminded him of her mistake, of her tying herself to him for the foreseeable future. Her heart did something odd though, when he would call her that. She usually made note of it when he did call her “hun” now. Because it was so rare to hear it, and she hesitated to ask why. It would slip out of him in odd moments, moments he would catch himself unaware and relaxed around her. But it always made him flush now, too. 

The game followed similarly, his flushing smirk distracting her from her hand on more than one occasion. He was so charmingly confident when he was playing games, so competitive. She tried to shake it off, the way he looked like this. She wanted to play with him, too. 

“You’re full of shit doll.” 

“No!” She gasps, suddenly a good actress. “My hand is just that good bucko! I raised it by too cluster bars, are you gonna meet or fold sir?” She hummed, smiling at him over her hand of cards. 

This was probably the only time she was damn good at lying, he conceded. She liked to play it up, waving her hands and laughing everything off. She was pretty good at playing off a hand that had absolutely nothing in it. But he had memorized her tell long ago, memorized her face just the same. She looked the same every night, teasing him across this kitchen table over dinner. Her brow upturned just a little, her cheeks flushed. That was the look, her look. She had nothing in her hand. 

But he was wiping the floor with her. 

He hums, hand over his lips. “I guess I fold then.” He sets his cards down, pushing his stack of candy back towards her.  

“Yes!” She jumps up, reaching across to swipe his candy into her pile. An elated smile on her face as she dances in her seat. The kitchen light making shadows on her face, the sun having finally gone down to alleviate some of the June heat. She stops mid-dance, a realization blooming over her face. “Wait a minute.” 

“Hmmmm?” He says, munching on one of his candies. 

“I know for a fact you can count cards, Stan!” Her finger pointed accusingly at her. “That’s why they won’t let you back in Nashville. You should legitimately win every round, and I know that for a fact!” 

He leans back in his kitchen chair, laughing in his low gravelly voice. “Perhaps?” He questions, hands held up in guilt. 

“Gahh!” She yells, reaching across the table and the stacks of candy to throw a fist at his shoulder. “I’ll get you for real one day.” 

“You’re smart hun, I know you will.” That flush across his face. 

“You’re smart too though.” She says, stating what she knows to be true. He is smart, he proves it to her every day. He just would never actually take the compliment, something he figured was a lie. He’d never been called smart in his life before her. He’d let her lie about this one thing though. His head hung off the back of his chair. His Doc’ was a terrible liar, though. 

“Nah!” He says flippantly, hand waving away her truth. “Let’s watch a movie!” Jumping from his seat, scooping up her pile and his pile of chocolates, and racing to the T.V. They’d play again the next year, and he’d let her win again in hopes it would make her just as happy as she just was. And maybe then she’d believed she’d won and he’d believe he was smart enough to be out-witted by the likes of her. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” She inquires, head popping back into the living room. 

“No no, come here!” Waving her in, so she can plop down next to him on the floor. Candy piled high in between the both of them. A mischievous grin sneaks up on his face, hand already reaching for the movie she’d hate. She was terrified of zombies, for some reason. Something he takes advantage of routinely. Anything to have her curled up next to him, her heat seeping into his side as his hand made a home on the back of her neck. Like usual, like always. Something that still made him feel sickly sweet, her flippant affection for him. It must be nothing for her, to be this close to him.

“Scary movie?” 

She nods, mouth full of chocolate and shirt dangerously low. Her cape piled around her, and her eyes dark as she grins at him. Distracting. 

October, 1984

They had hit a metaphorical dead end when it came to the portal. Something they both feared voicing between the two of them. 

It was hard, almost impossible, to reverse engineer the plans drawn out in the one journal they had on hand. She knew there had to be two more out there, hidden in the woods. A homage to the three corners of the portal that she stared at day in and out. Stanford was like that in a way, flippantly sentimental about the oddest thing. 

Her old friend more than likely buried the other two journals somewhere on the property. Unfortunately for them both they did not know where the property line began and ended, but she more or less figured it was a lot of land to cover. Stan had backed up this claim, explaining to her that first night that Stanford had wanted him to take this first journal, take it with him to the ends of the earth. In hopes that the portal his brother had created couldn’t be replicated. Something they had both dared to do now and something they did not discuss in great lengths either. 

He had put them away in his haste, she figured. He was never one to half-ass anything really, but with the way Stan had described his brother that night he disappeared into the portal, she figured he was not necessarily himself. Not himself, actually at all. She had contemplated it a lot, the fear of otherworldly possession. But had a hard time believing Stanford would let anything into something as sacred as he believed his mind to be. He didn’t even let her up there. 

But the way he described his odd relationship with an entity that happened to be a shape was… distracting. It constantly had her flipping back and forth in the journal, looking for clues as to what Ford was doing in relation to an otherworldly being. He couldn’t help his own curiosity she figured, something she had never blamed him for except for now. Something she cursed him for, now. 

So they had both agreed to move in silence when it came to passing into the tree line of the property. She had more than hinted at their need for caution in communicating with whatever the hell Ford had previously encountered. Stan and Ford both considered themselves adventurers in their own right, which would be admirable if one of them wasn't missing from their current plane of existence. 

They had headed out together one October day, bundled up, and hoping to find signs of Ford on their property line. Hoping to find one of the journals, and nothing else. 

His red coat with a new patch was swung over his shoulders, as she had whined in the doorway that morning. She much preferred his things to her own nowadays. Much preferred to be swallowed by his shirts and jackets, not that he would ever comment. There was just more warmth to his things than her own now, and she preferred the imprint he left on the couch to her own in these colder months. Stealing his spot when he would up and leave for a new drink, laughing when he would come back to claim it. Stealing that imprint of him was her only joy, because it made him laugh and flush differently when she got close now. The closest he had allowed in months, the imprints and loose shirts he’d leave behind. Made something behind her chest ache thinking about it.

Felt slightly disjointed in their trek through the forest now, the thought of the unknown just beyond them both. And no warmth of his jacket to cool the part of her that achingly worried for him now.

But of course, they both had weighed the probability of them encountering some creatures that Ford had sighted in his journal, but she feared encountering something that was not listed in the specific one they had in their possession. Something out in the borders of their home, that they had no knowledge of. 

He was swearing with every step through the underbrush ahead of her, his hand held behind him in case she would need it when trekking through the uneven forest floor. His head held down as he stomped a path into the fallen leaves for her. Her head held up, looking for signs of their long-gone friend somewhere between the trees. 

“Fuck!” She swears, tripping over fallen branches. He reaches back, catching her with the length of his outstretched arm. The first time he had reached for her since he bent to fold her legs across his lap this morning. He felt far away. He was flushed though, worked up with the long trek they both had made. Some odd miles between them and their home now. 

He grunts, lifting her back to her feet with ease. Moving to wipe dead leaves and twigs from her hiking pants unconsciously.

“Should we map this out doll?” 

“Mhm.” She nods, as he reaches back into their shared backpack he had been carrying. Taking out a property map and a compass. He had thought to bring the map, commenting on how they could mark down when they would see odd things throughout the forest, and so they could track where they had already been. She had thought to bring the compass, simply to find their way home. 

She looks down at the unfolded map now held up in his hands, stepping to bend down under his arm, residing in front of his expansive chest and between his outstretched arms. He was warm, she noted, a part of her cooling. 

“Sooooo… I think I saw something around here.” She moved her pencil up, marking along their predetermined path where she thought she had seen tree carvings. She took a step back, running into his chest. Trying to get closer to him, before he would inevitably leave. “I believe we are about 1.5 to 2 miles out from the shack?” She questions, tilting her head back to look at him. 

He grunts, flushed by her proximity. Her back to his chest, he noted how warm she was when she was this close. Her eyes shining up at him in question. She shouldn’t be this close. 

“Mmm, feels like we’ve been walkin’ longer than that.” 

“You may be right.” She hums, her pencil held in her mouth now. “Should we retrace our steps? Get a better estimate? And look at that carving I saw?” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He grunts, trying to move his eyes away from her. 

“Alright!” She steps back from him, suddenly cold. Ducking beneath his arm and stepping away from him as he begins to fold back up the map. She’d savor whatever he allowed. “Then we’ll be home in time for lunch.” She comments. 

“Can we have those fancy deli sammiches?” 

“Mmmm, sounds good to me.” She shrugs, letting him lead the way back to their home. Trying to find oddities in the tree line, but getting distracted by his shoulders the entirety of the way home. Missing that imprint of him along her back already.

[artyandink]

he

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

SUMMARY: HE STAYED AWAKE MOST NIGHTS. HE WAS ALONE, WITH HIS BROTHER AT COLLEGE, AND DAD TELLING HIM WHAT TO DO. THERE WERE TIMES WHERE HE FELT LIKE THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD— MAYBE THERE WAS NO LIGHT FOR HIM.

TW: DRINKING, ANGST, JOHN’S A PIECE OF SHIT, STANFORD!ERA DEAN, ANGER

NOW PLAYING:

• BROTHER BY KODALINE

• IDK YOU YET BY ALEXANDER 23

• VIVA LA VIDA BY COLDPLAY

FULL ALBUM

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

DEAN COULDN’T STOP drinking. Maybe he just wanted to get drunk tonight, he didn’t know, but considering he’s been drinking beer since the ripe age of fourteen, it’d take a couple more cans until he could actually feel the buzz of alcohol in his head. Maybe a glass of his dad’s whiskey could do as well to speed up the process.

For reference, there were about five beer cans on the floor that he’d need to shove down the trash can.

Why’d Sammy have to go? Dean had barely escaped unscathed when Sam and John argued last about his wanting to go to college— and it wasn’t the first time. He’d stepped in time and time again when his dad had even taken one threatening step towards his baby brother— so much that in the back of his mind he felt lil he was only programmed to protect Sammy without care for his own health.

But he didn’t want to admit that.

He flipped out his phone, thumb hovering over the button to call Sam— it’d been stuck like that for weeks. Thinking he should call, check in, but no, Sam left with only a note on his motel bed and he’d suffered endless hours of yelling and icing out repeatedly by John for not watching over his little brother. His little brother, his responsibility.

God, it was all his fault.

Obviously, he was happy— happy that Sammy got his own life rather than living someone else’s, that he could be happy in his own skin and do something for himself. But why didn’t he have the courage to do that? Why had he never told his dad no, why hadn’t he said that he wanted to go to college too? Cause now he only had a GED and shit high school grades cause he was either busy hooking up or doing what John wanting him to.

He was empty. And that felt like shit.

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

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[samanddean76]

A Fistful Of Sammy's

An ancient grimoire has been searching for the man that is destined to wield it for the good of all.  With the power that was imbued upon it, Lux gained sentience and hid herself away, appearing as nothing more than a smoothly polished rock.  Now she waits.  The problem?  The Stanford-Era Sam Winchester that the grimoire meets is not the only Sam searching for it.  And thanks to a little time travel the list of those seeking her is growing longer by the minute.  Once Soulless Sam and Demon Dean are added into the mix?  Things start to go sideways.  But then a couple of Hollywood actors trapped in Canada, who happen to look just like them and know everything about them, turn out to be crucial to Sam and Dean being able to save the day. 

Will an Apocalypse World Bobby (no, not that one) and a battle ravaged Castiel help or hinder?  Will the all-too helpful Gabriel guide Sam to the truth, or lead him astray?  And will Sam ever get the happy ending he so desperately deserves? 

Come along on a wild ride, with Metallica as the soundtrack, and an ending that hinges on one impossible choice.

Fandoms: Supernatural and Supernatural RPF

Rated: Explicit | Word Count: 44,276

This is what happens when you have four Sam's, four Dean's, two Castiel's, two Jared and Jensen's, one Gabriel, one John, and one Jack in the same story.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Demon Dean/Soulless Sam, Sam Winchester/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, John Winchester/Sam Winchester

Major Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Additional Tags: AU, Time Travel, Will Reference Events From All Seasons Plus Prior To Series, Jared & Jensen from Season 6 - The French Mistake, Stanford Era Sam, Dean, & John, Soulless Sam, Demon Dean, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Dubious Consent, Non-Graphic Violence, Unorthodox Demon Healing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sam & Dean Being The Best Of Brothers, Castiel Gets A Power Up, Sam Gets A Power Up, An OC For The Ages, Literally

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight on AO3

Hey! How about we turn it into The Samstraveganza Verse? Mmmm, okay, I'm sold.

Tell Me Something I Don't Know - Soulless Sam/Demon Dean one-shot on AO3

Art Post on Tumblr | Art Post on AO3

@xpurdyglambertx @wipbigbang

Excerpt from Chapter Six under the break....

Sam could see himself through Dean’s eyes.  From the moment he was the baby lying in the maternity ward.  Later when he played in his crib in the nursery of his only real home.  How scared Dean felt as he raced out the front door with his little Sammy held tight.  Through more dingy motel rooms and abandoned houses than either of them ever wanted to think about.  On the first day of middle school, when Sam had been so scared, Dean had looked down at him with pride, assuring his kid brother that he was going to be better than any of his classmates.  Helping Sam to get ready for his first dance, pinning on the boutonniere that he had stolen from the flower shop.  Wishing how it would have been him to escort his Sammy. 

“I would have danced with you, at least once.  Spun my big brother around the floor.”  The words echoed across his mind, and when Dean tried to deepen the kiss that they were sharing, Sam knew that he’d heard it, and shared the sentiment.  He thrust harder into the willing flesh before him, finding untold joy as each thrust was matched by Dean pushing back with his own hips.  Trying to help Sam sink in even deeper. 

[screamingmandrakes]

meg | they/she | voldemort centric

This blog is anti-JKR and Pro-ship. Antis dni. PFP: by KoshLis.

welcome to my blog! i’m a multi shipper but i write voldemort centric fics.

MY SHIPS: HP/LV | HG/LV | TMR/HP

NON HP SHIPS: DP/BC | FP/BC ( @onesixerplease )

i write mostly dead dove content, so let that be a warning to proceed with caution when reading my works. I always appropriately tag and put warnings on my fanfiction. When I post Dead Dove, I tag it ‘Dead Dove: Do Not Eat’. I don’t make a habit of reblogging/posting otherwise NSFW content but please be aware it is a possibility. this blog is 18+ and does not welcome minors.

Miss Granger

Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

(Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.)

After finding herself trapped in an era not of her own, Hermione manages her survival by hiding in the Hogwarts’ library.

Unfortunately for her, it does not go without notice.

(This work of fiction depicts non-con. Please proceed with caution.)

Clever Little Mudblood

Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

“You very nearly escaped Lord Voldemort,” red eyes peered upon her, furious, insane, obsessive. Hermione blinked back at her reflection in them, her hands searching the rubble behind her for any hint of an escape. “You very nearly fooled me, for you were smart, little Mudblood. You were quick, but never again will you run.”

Happy House

Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

(Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

Lord Voldemort cries.

No, not Voldemort: Tom cries. Swaddled in grey blankets, a battered baby mobile spins idly above his crib as he shrieks. Chipped, faded yellow stars dangle from it, doing nothing to soothe the wailing infant. The windows rattle as thunder booms on the horizon, and the world around them kisses the day goodnight as the sun descends from sight. Pitiful attempts of joy fill the room: cracked paint peels from poorly painted rainbows on the wall, and the distant chime of a lullaby bleeds in from the hallway.

This is no place to hope, yet Hermione does anyway.

(AKA: Hermione raises Tom, and then fails miserably.)

boys

Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

This must be karma, some kind of punishment, some form of purgatory. Tom is meticulous, never wrong, never out of place. He eliminates anything — or anyone — that threatens to usurp that. Tom Marvolo Riddle, by all means, does not spend his time in broom closets, crammed against a shelf while the Gryffindor seeker holds him by his hips.

“Is that what this is about? You…you like…” Harry’s sentence remains unfinished, but the implications are clear. Disgust curdles in Tom’s gut, putrid.

“Like,” Tom enunciates as if the word is poison on his tongue. “What a stupid thing to say, Potter. I admire your delusion.”

(AKA: Tom's a bratty virgin.)

Fan Art

Art for and i feed on the fear that's behind your eyes

Art for Miss Granger

Translations:

Ukrainian translation for Miss Granger

My Non-HP Works

Psychological Warfare

Ford Pines/Bill Cipher

What was it he had called Bill in his journal? A screeching, graceless lunatic?

“Yeesh! I’m just kidding,” Bill flicks his cane, rustling the papers surrounding them and sending them awry. They scatter widely, equations lifting from the pages, the sloppy penmanship spiraling through the air around them. Everywhere Ford looks, his desperation stares back. “It’s not my fault you rolled a zero on your sense of humor. You know you’re not allowed to die! All I’m saying is, how long are you going to keep pretending you don’t need me? Look at you, I’ve possessed corpses in better shape.”

"Yes," Ford says, squaring his jaw. "I know. I enjoyed shooting them.”

shut out the cold, kneel and pray

Ford Pines/Bill Cipher

The need to be loved is not unique to humankind, but it’s a rather integral part of what makes Stanford Pines who he is. Bill understands this.

[i-already-know-im-going-2-hell]

Tags: hurt/no comfort, gencest/weirdcest, stanford era Rating: gen Word Count: 720 Summary: While Dean had always considered getting a tattoo it was never something he cared about enough to go against his Dad for. He'd given up more and less to keep from receiving that disappointment he felt was always right under the surface.

But of course, as with everything in his life, Sammy was clearly the exception.

Dean groans at the light that makes its way through the back window of Baby at just the right angle to be unable to avoid. This wouldn't be the first time he's fallen asleep in Baby on the side of some road, and neither is the blank he pulls up when he tries to think back to last night's events. Curling his head inwards towards the seat he brushes his arm past his chest to curl the jacket he'd been using as a blanket tighter only to flinch back at a scraped raw sensation across the left side.

He doesn't remember getting in a bar fight, but at this point that's more of an indication he did end up in one than that he didn't. The rest of his limbs don't feel sore but he pulls his shirt up expecting to see himself scraped up anyways from a wall he’d been pressed up against or the asphalt of a parking lot, but instead he freezes when he sees only slightly inflamed skin that’s a different shade than should be there.

Cycling through his thoughts quickly he lands on bitter acceptance much faster than he used to before Sam left. He lets his shirt drop and thunks his aching head back into the door, uncaring since all he can focus on is the dull ache on his chest.

He's not surprised is the thing, because a lot of things he hadn't wanted to confront, hadn't allowed himself to even look at while Sam was here are starting to make a lot of bitter sense. The kid was right to leave when he did. Sometimes Dean wonders if Sam knew before he did, if that was a factor in why he left.

Laughing Dean closes his eyes and presses his hand into his chest to feel that sore ache grow. Tries to match it to the one inside that he knows isn't ever gonna leave as long as Sammy is in California. He tries to convince himself he's glad, but even knowing if Sam was back he'd be able to see laid out in detail how twisted up Dean has always been literally inked into his skin, he can't lie to himself.

While Dean had always considered getting a tattoo it was never something he cared about enough to go against his Dad for. He'd given up more and less to keep from receiving that disappointment he felt was always right under the surface. 

But of course, as with everything in his life, Sammy was clearly the exception.

Dean didn't even need to look back down at his chest to know what was there. After all he knew what the amulet looked like in perfect detail. Since Sam had given him it he'd never taken it off, and now no one else would be able to take it off him either.

Laid out right over his heart, he now had it engraved in perfect detail, though larger than the actual amulet itself.

Dean scoffs and presses down harder. Of course he'd get it over his heart too. Dean didn't do sappy for anyone, but Sam had never been anyone. He didn't think he'd be able to ever put into words everything Sam was for him. Words were for Sam, and it's probably how he ended up at that fancy college of his. Actions had always been Dean's stronger suit and it's clearly how he ended up here.

Sighing Dean pushed himself up and got out of the back to sit himself down in the front seat. Turning Baby on to hear her familiar purr he angled his way off of the side of the highway he'd pulled onto heading once again towards nowhere until his dad called him up with the next case.

Absentmindedly he continued pressing on his chest to feel the sore ache come in and out. Dean hoped it'd never heal, but he knew it would eventually fade into the same sort of numbness that had taken over everything about him since the day Sam had walked out of that door.

Until it did he'd continue pressing at it though, and if it never healed right then Dean thought that'd be fair. At least then he'd have some kind of physical evidence of what life without Sam was like.

[theangiediary]

omg Angie that was exactly what i meant and i loved it! I also adore Lebanon's favourite "are they?aren't they?" couple and imagining samdean co-parenting is such a delight. "If the baby looked like Sam, Dean would have like 12 disorders" got a laugh but it's so true i don't know how he'd handle it. It's similarly what makes me also like the idea of Dean having to deal with a deaged Sam just to see how gobsmacked he'd be. (Also those mommy recs? For a friend? 👀)

1. Oh good I’m glad it resonated! Truly, Dean would be against those baby chest carriers until the little guy was born, and then he’d not only constantly be wearing him strapped in, he’d also have one arm wrapped around at all times. Also that baby would not have a nursery, Dean would put the crib in their bedroom so he could be as close as possible, sit on the rocking chair at night just staring (Sam gets it, at least enough not to press the issue).

2. About A Boy with deaged Sammy: they’d have to end the show right there! Dean would run off into the night with itty Sammy, let some other hunter deal with the missing people. (/hj, I don’t actually remember what their relationship was like prior to that ep, all I know is it was VERY funny to me that they had a solution to the mark but Sam was like 🥺 “I am not baby?? no more Big Bro? Unacceptable.”  

3. Fic Recs

Haha, well! So many flavors... I’m throwing a huge mixed bag here, read what sounds interesting, skip what doesn’t.

Vice and Wish by thatsakitkat (incomplete, ABO A!Sam/O!Dean, 42k)

One of my all time favorites. It’s a little OOC, but Sam’s uh, canonical entitlement toward Dean/Dean’s body and resources is so so sexy. Cockblocking him, spending his money, joining him in Dean’s subconscious against Dean’s protests. Spn was allergic to having a consistent stance on souls, but if you largely view soulless!Sam as Sam without empathy, then.. Yeah. I think the Sam in this fic/universe is realistically ruthless in getting what he wants (a baby in Dean).

(Taste Every Fruit by the same author doesn’t have pregnancy, but is a lactation fic and uhh. Quite good.)

Nesting orphan_account (ABO A!John/O!Dean, 12k)

It’s been a minute since I read this, but I remember it being sweet, in a conservative fantasy way. Stanford era. Forced retirement. Small town. Also slightly OOC but like above, comes with the universe.

homebody by hellhoundsprey (ABO A!Jared/O!Jensen (background Jared/Ruth and Jensen/Tahmoh, 18k)

Listen, if you’re hesitant about rpf, this author writes it very much “vaguely inspired by the PR personsona of X”. People have been fantasizing about celebrities forever, heck, the SPN cast joke about rpf at cons. 

Anyway. Great fic. Darling sex kitten/tease and “Trying to be good” dynamic.

Share the Spoils Ch 2 by vintagedean (Fem!Dean/Sam, 2k)

Recently published, Deanna finding out if she’s pregnant and what she and Sam can do if that’s the case. Pushy teen Sam, distracted Deanna. "John's looming shadow" deserves its own character tag.

the need to choose by deadlybride (Hal!Dean/Sam, 3k)

Canon (post s7) divergence. The author has this halman universe which is similar to ABO but not quite; Dean’s something like an omega but not ✨feminine 👧🌷. Still, one of the things that the author does is realistic sex descriptions/pretty explicit naming of body parts: Dean has a clit, cervix, etc. Explores what having a baby would mean for them, in the context of SPN’s vessel plotlines. Sad, longing, open ended.

They Think I'm Possessed by deandatsgay (Dean/John, Dean/Sam 27k)

No pregnancy; Dean raised as Sam’s mom (thus inclusion in this list). Dark, dirty bad wrong porn. I love it.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Baby I don't feel so good 6 words you never understood

Baby I don't feel so good 6 words you never understood https://ift.tt/AJnmMle by c0ckscker (arisrxses) All his life Dean's been told "take care of Sammy" but now Sammy's gone off to college and Dean doesn't know what to do Words: 1907, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Azazel (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Lee Webb, Castiel (Supernatural) Relationships: Lee Webb/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Stanford Era (Supernatural), John Winchester Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Past Lee Webb/Dean Winchester via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/LCQ54WB December 26, 2024 at 07:56AM

[antisocialpyromaniac]

@insanesonofabitch, I don’t know how to show your tags, but absolutely. I didn’t really think about when he started but after reading yours I definitely agree. Do you think after John starts taking Sam out hunting and leaving them both in Baby Dean forgets that Sam is with him, and just starts speaking. Since it has become routine. Sam asks who Dean is talking to and he just says Baby. Sam is still young enough to not think it’s odd and accepts it. When Sam joins him after his Stanford era Dean is more self-conscious of speaking to Baby in front of him but every now and again Sam still catches Dean whispering and it makes him smile. Furthering on when Baby turned human. I agree, it would be hilarious if Baby became super masculine but still refused to be called anything but Baby and used she/her pronouns. Other people in this small town that they are hunting in are super confused but Cas just accepts and understands (since Angels don’t really have genders, but his vessel is a male). Last one and I’ll stop, when they are fighting together Baby does something cool or saves Dean or somebody so Dean yells ‘That’s my Baby’ and Cas is just a smidge jealous.

Supernatural Head cannon

Dean talks to his car, always has. As a result Baby knows everything. Every secret from Deans emotional turmoils and breakdowns to his crush on Cas. Baby really knows about Cas. It heard about every time Dean was divorced or Widowed and it heard about how hot Dean found Cas in his cowboy hat as well as doctors coat. The impala is the first one he comes out to, albeit unintentionally as Baby witnessed his baby bi breakdowns. This is not an issue until Baby is hit with a curse that turns them human. And as Baby was previously a car they don’t really understand social rules. So, Baby keeps accidentally spilling his secrets and the episode is mostly Dean trying to keep Baby quiet, Sam finding it hilarious and Cas being confused/concerned.

[angelsdean]

you know those little like jeeps and cars for kids to drive around in?? well dean gets a custom mini impala made for baby jack and he rides around the long driveway at their lake house looking cool af like this kid dshfkjsdkf

like just imagine baby jack in some aviators and a little led zepp t-shirt in his mini impala and dean just trots around after him up and down the driveway with the biggest fondest grin on his face, eyes crinkling bc that’s his kid and cas is off to the side working on his garden and it’s a warm sunny day and he’s just here w/ his family and it’s so good and later cas joins them on the driveway and jack is squealing as he picks up speed and tries to outrun them in his little car and they purposely run at a freakin’ snails pace to let him win and then rush him at the top of the driveway and jack’s screaming with delight as dean snatches him out of the car and hauls him under his arm like a football and cas is smiling so sweetly watching them as dean tosses jack in the air and does fake growling sounds and tickles him and pretends to munch on his belly and blow raspberries and oh god it’s too soft it’s too much--they’re a family and it’s a normal saturday morning and they’re a live and nothing is coming for them and it’s so good it’s so good it’s everything they never thought they could have but, they have it. they have it. they get to have it! 

[milfcodeddean]

on my stanford era dean with a baby soapbox.  especially either emma happens early or john saddles him with a baby half-sibling.  either way, Dad only calls him about hunts and doesn’t pick up often and the passenger seat of the Impala is achingly empty, but the baby needs him even if Sam doesn’t anymore, so Dean keeps going 

[pinknatural]

fic masterlist

*all are deancas *bolded are my specialest little favorites *you can also find my ao3 here for summaries & tags

canonverse/misc

twenty-five years 1.4k sobriety & apple pie & religion, oh my! 2.7k we’re gonna have a good time 1.7k winner takes it all 0.9k gifts given & words unspoken 4.1k CTRL+Z 2k sweetheart, accidental 1.5k oh my darling 1k unattached drifter xmas 2k

empty rescue/finale fix-its/post-canon

& grace will lead us home 4.2k i’ll open the door to heaven or hell 3.5k one step closer 3.8k foundations 6.2k of fire and circles 7.9k endless road to rediscover & i will hear you call 2.8+1.9k till death do us part 1.3k if I see you every Tuesday 1.7k golden eyes, tiny hands 2.7k that much better 5.6k juxtaposition 1.1k of having 0.5k heaven’s here it’s right where you’re standing 1.9k spun gold 3.9k folded paper roses 1.1k days & weeks & months 1k where the light pours down 1k (i am not) the only traveler 3k the lord of the lake (and i don’t want to leave it) 29k

AUs 

fatherisms (claire is a baby when jimmy becomes a vessel) 12.2k throw away my faith (reverse AU where dean is an angel & cas is a hunter) 24.4k angelic interference (dean is a fallen angel; set in season 2) 19.4k blessed arrangement (lazarus rising au where dean remembers being raised from perdition) 3k in tight places (what-if emma lived & she and claire meet while dean & cas are in purgatory & go on a roadtrip together) 45k the little angel (stay all day in the sun) (a stanford era little mermaid au) 18.6k not quite Hallmark (23k. emmanuel meets dean, who works at a bakery. sparks fly) not for a lack of trying (no-supernatural au about found family and coparenting) 4.4k thou shalt not // honor thy father (WIP. what if slice girls happened during the stanford era) birthday candles (no-supernatural au, cas tries to bake, dean is a firefighter) 1.7k

[venhedish]

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells..  .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed.  It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue.   But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?  .

In Sanguine Vita Est   ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different?  .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

 I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

 Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. . 

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

[spn-trope-round-robin]

The Official Trope List!

This is the SPN Trope Round Robin’s official list of tropes! All of these will be available to select from every round – these are the same tropes used in Rounds 1 and 2! Missed out on your favorite trope last round? Grab it for Round 3! (The full list is repeated in plain text below the cut.)

Genre

Angst

Body horror

Crack

Darkfic

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

Schmoop

Character Related

Angelic Soul seeing/ touching

Boyking sam

Camp Counselor

Cas Loves Bees

Castiel’s trueform

Character Death

Demon Dean

Genderswap

Godstiel

Gracefic

Human Cas

John Winchester’s A+ parenting

Lifeguard

Magical healing cock

Mistaken Identity

MOC dean

Neighbor

Original Character(s)

Parent

Cock of Death (Sam)

Secret Identity

Soulless Sam

Tattoos/Piercings

Touch Starved

Whump

Wingfic

Relationships

Almost Kiss

Courtship Rituals

Cuddling

Enemies /rivals to lovers

Everyone thinks they’re doing it

Fake Dating /Marriage

Forbidden Love

Friends to lovers

Friends with Benefits

Jealousy

Marriage

Mutual pining

OT3/polyamory

Pining

Raised Apart

Role Reversal

Secret Siblings

Soulbond

Soulmates

Team Free Will  

Unrelated Winchesters

UST

Sex

BDSM

Casturbation

Crossdressing/Panty Kink

Dub-con

First Time

Hatesex

Magic made them do it / sex magic / fuck or die / sex pollen

Non-con

Sex work

Voyeurism/ Exhibitionism

Situational

Accidental Baby Acquisition

Aging Up

Anthropomorfic

Bathing/grooming

Beach

Bed Sharing

Blind Date

Bodysharing

Bodyswap

De-aging

Dimension Hopping

Disaster Survival

High School Reunion

Huddling for Warmth

Pen Pal

Prank War/Chicken

Retirement from hunting

Sparring

Telepathy/mind reading

Thief/Heist/Caper

Woke Up in Bed Together

Time periods

Futurefic

Heavenfic/afterlife

Pre-Series

Stanford era

Weechesters

Misc

Canon Compliant

Creature fic

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Demons

Doppelgangers

Episode Tag / coda / missing scene

Ghosts

Immortal

Kidfic

Reapers

Tentacles

Vampires

Werewolves

Witches

Zombies

AU

Alternate Universe - No Supernatural

Apocafic

Canon Divergence AU

Canonical AU (other)

Carnival/Circus/Fair AU

Celebrity/entertainer AU

Coffeeshop/Bakery AU

College AU

Crime (organized)/ Mafia/Gang AU

Crossover

Djinnverse

Dystopia AU

Endverse

Everybody Lives

Fantasy/Folklore/Myth AU

Fix-it fic

French Mistake AU

Fusion

High School AU

Historical AU

Law Enforcement AU

Magic School AU

Military/war AU

Non-coffeeshop workplace AU

Prison AU

Purgatory AU

Reverseverse

Royalty AU

Sci-fi AU

Soulbond/Soulsharing AU (Sense8, Pacific Rim, Symbiotes, His Dark Materials)

Serial killer AU

It’s a Terrible Life AU

Sports AU

Spy/Secret Agent/Assassin/Hitman AU

Superhero/Villain AU

Western AU

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Baby I don't feel so good 6 words you never understood

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3wuoXsM by c0ckscker (arisrxses) All his life Dean's been told "take care of Sammy" but now Sammy's gone off to college and Dean doesn't know what to do Words: 1907, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Azazel (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Lee Webb, Castiel (Supernatural) Relationships: Lee Webb/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Stanford Era (Supernatural), John Winchester Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Past Lee Webb/Dean Winchester read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3wuoXsM

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Love is Universal by @crematosis | Art by Neinor (@casslastheaven)

Sam is going to Stanford in the fall and Dean plans a last family road trip before dropping him off at college. But when they make a stop at Universal Studios, Dean feels more than just the call of nostalgia.

Posting August 30, 2021

Rating: Explicit

Warnings & Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alpha Dean, Omega Castiel, Beta Sam, Beta Gabriel, True Mates, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, Alternate Universe-No Supernatural, Stanford Era,Universal Studios, Bipolar Mary Winchester, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Tattooed Castiel, minor Gabe/Sam, Dean Winchester has self-worth issues

Excerpt:

Dean fiddled with the arms of his 3D glasses, opening and closing the hinge. That weird restlessness he had been feeling all day had reached a fever pitch. And here he was, trapped on a tour bus for the next hour with the world’s most obnoxiously cheery tour guide.

“We’re now leaving the park and heading into the backlot portion of our tour.”

Dean stared out the window, trying to tune out Becky’s annoying chirpy voice. The tram passed under a bridge Dean recognized as the path leading down to the lower lot. He envied the two men currently standing up there. What he wouldn’t give to be back in their place.

One was a pretty attractive guy, if Dean was being honest with himself. He looked like he probably had a banging body beneath the billowy Harry Potter robes. And Dean was always a sucker for dark hair and blue eyes.

Next to him was a shorter blond in a very bright tie-dye shirt, talking animatedly with his hands even though they were currently occupied with a ridiculously overloaded ice cream sundae.

Well, okay, maybe Dean didn’t envy that position on the bridge as much anymore. Would swapping out an overly chatty chick with an overly chatty dude be much of an improvement?

It didn’t look like it. Dean almost laughed as the dark-haired guy decided to tune out his companion, leaning against the railing and pillowing his head on his arms as he watched the tram pass underneath.

Their eyes met and Dean suddenly felt all the chaos in his head go quiet. He watched in stunned silence as gold bled into those perfect baby blues.

The guy was an omega. Dean’s omega.