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1953 Dodge B4-B Pilothouse - Restored

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some intricate hilts for you all today

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1971 Dodge Duster

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Sword, 1490, Art Institute of Chicago: Arms, Armor, Medieval, and Renaissance

George F. Harding Collection Size: Overall L. 79.4 cm (31 ¼ in.) Crossguard L. 11.8 cm (4 5/8 in.) Wt. 2 lb. Medium: Steel, iron, gilding, wood, and textile (silk velvet)

https://www.artic.edu/artworks/106209/

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1955 Ford Fairlane Victoria

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wintermae​:

After what felt like hours of picking things out, trying things on, and getting a feel for what it was she had been looking for, Mae decided on a dress that managed to simultaneously be simple and a bit ornate. Her fingers ran over the lace of it as she got back into the car.

She sent Bobby a text to let him know that she’d found a dress and was now dealing with other last minute things.

“Not goin’ to mention that they’re gifts though. Because you might get all adorably grumbly about me doin’ it.” An amused laugh left her at the thought.

Another few hours of browsing, searching, and genuinely beginning to feel like a treasure hunter of sorts later, Mae was able to check off the gifts part of her list as well. Three bottles of fine whisky, hand forged knives, and a few other things rounded it out. 

After all that running around shopping, Bobby decided he’d better make an effort to get food on the table.  A bunch of chopping, peeling, reducing and baking later he had a Shepherd’s Pie and beer on the table around the time he heard her car pull into the lot.  Smiling he went to the door and hollered out.

“You want any help carryin or should I just get outta the way?”

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saintsnner

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wintermae​:

After making a few calls, she’d made a bit of headway on her list–Just from the car. She smiled to herself at the efficiency of it all then decided that coffee was in order before moving on to the bigger parts of her list.

Half a red eye still in her cup even as Mae looked over the selection of rings. Nothing fancy or big was needed. “An’ he’ll probably have to take it off here an’ there for workin’ on cars,” she murmured to herself. Eventually she settled on a ring that reminded her of Bobby as soon as she saw it. Rough hewn but still strong.

With that settled she made the decision to simply make the cake herself, that giddiness that comes with baking coming to join her already present giddiness. 

“Now all that’s left ‘s the dress really.” Mae ignored the quick pang that came with remembering that most brides to be did that with a gaggle of friends or at least their mothers. “Course most brides don’t have a mama like I had.” That in mind she stepped into a vintage consignment shop and started to peruse their offerings.  

Dean wasn’t sure whether to whoop or be silently shocked.  He was obviously happy for Bobby, a little intrigued by who the hell would marry him, but also frankly surprised Bobby would actually get married again.  The boys had gone through Karen’s horrifying resurrection with him and figured that would sour him on the whole idea of wedded bliss forever.

“Jesus, Bobby!” the tone somehow contained all that in those two words and Bobby understood.

“I know.  But Mae understands the life.  That’s her name, Mae.  I ain’t gonna go inta details until ya meet her, but she’s got a beautiful old soul.  We met huntin’ Cupas down south.”

Dean let all that process for a minute while he downed a cold bottle of Bud Lite.  Then he nodded like Bobby could actually see him do it.

“Hell yeah, we’ll be there.  Just give us a where and when.  We’d even spring for the bachelor party if you’re up for it.”  He laughed at the look he knew was on Bobby’s face.

“I’ll call ya, you idjits just try to be early so Mae don’t gotta worry about you bein on time.”

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wintermae​:

Giddiness lingered the whole time she was driving into town. It was almost ridiculous, really, just how happy she was. Not that she hadn’t been happy before their conversation–that wasn’t it at all–but it was nice to have a concrete plan. 

Mae put the radio on with the volume just loud enough to provide a soothing white noise background once the traffic started to get a little more congested. She pushed some of the giddiness back so it was a bit easier to focus on actually driving. 

Don’t want to get in an accident. That wouldn’t be very celebratory.

Once she got to where she wanted to be, Mae parked. As the car made the tick-tick-ticking noise of the engine cooling she took a little notebook and pen out of her glove box so she could make a list to keep herself organized. 

Marriage license. 

Officiant. 

Dress. 

Shoes. 

Lingerie.  

Food (dinner & cake?)

Ring for Bobby.

Dean flipped the shop towel over his shoulder and reached for the volume knob.  He still felt that fleeting guilt at the comfort Bobby’s voice always brought him.

“Minnesota.  Just finished gankin’ a djinn, decided to take some downtime to give Baby a tune-up and oil change.  Sam’s takin some museum tour or whatever educated chicks are into these days.”

Bobby smiled right through the phone.  “Leave that boy alone.  He needs socializin’ with somebody who’s seen a movie with subtitles every once in a while.”

“Yeah, whatever.  What’s up, Bobby?”

This is where he’d usually give them an address and something weird to look into.  All things considered, he supposed this qualified, but now that the moment was here he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“Well, if you boys can pull yerselves off the road for a couple days, I’m gettin’ myself married.  I thought maybe ya might wanna be here for it.  Meet the Missus an’ all that.”

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Writing Prompt: Three Things

a group of cryptid hunters, a well placed bullet, to let nature take its course

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1966 Cadillac Coupe De Ville

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