#do the cars in Nebraska get dirty really fast or something?

[hotteacocoa]

I visited Nebraska last week, and my only question when leaving was:

Why are there so many car washes?

[bonniebird]

A version of home

Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader (Not sure about the pairing yet)

AN: This is 100% a self-indulgent comfort fic I started for myself xD

Masterlist

“Bobby? Is everything ok?” Sam asked as he answered his phone. Dean frowned and glanced at his brother as he drove. There was a long silence as Sam listened to Bobby and Dean clicked his tongue impatiently as he waited for Sam to say something, anxiety bubbled bitterly in the pit of his stomach as Sam hummed a few times. He hated waiting for an update. 

The last he heard from Bobby, when he’d called that morning, everything was fine. He hadn't expected to hear from Bobby again, seeing as they were on their way to his house.

“Urm… yeah… let me check the map. We shouldn’t be too far from there. If you give me the address we can get there this afternoon.” Sam said as he started fumbling in the glove box for a pen and paper.

“Whats going on?” Dean asked quickly. He glanced quickly at Sam who frowned, a pen hanging from his mouth, as he dug into the back of the glove box and pulled a scrap of paper out.

“Just take the next left instead of going the back way to Bobby’s.” Sam said as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear, scribbling something on the paper. “Ok, we’re heading onto route ninety now.”

“So? What’s going on?” Dean asked as he sped up, watching Sam hang up and trace the route he’d set on the map. Dean’s tone was short and pensive, he was starting to worry but when he glanced at Sam again his expression made it easier for Dean to take a breath.

“Bobby needs us to pick something up from Presho, it’s only two and a half hours from Bobby’s. It looks like if we go this way we should pretty much pass right through.” Sam explained as he fumbled with one of the maps that he’d fished out of the glove compartment.

“Great, we’ll still make it in time for dinner. Apparently Bobby saved one of his neighbours and they dropped round apple crumble. It’s almost as good as apple pie!”

The drive to Presho didn’t take too long, the roads were clear and Dean sped along, able to zone out a little as the music blared. Sam had fallen asleep a good two hours before but as Dean pulled up outside of the motel Bobby had sent them to he emergency breaked which jerked Sam awake.

“Dean! Dude, come on.” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his face and looked around.

“Well we’re here. What was it that Bobby wanted you to get? I’m assuming some old books or something.”

“He didn’t really say. I figured that the address was for a library or a house. You’re sure this is right?” Sam asked as he glanced at the ordinary looking motel Dean had parked in front of.

They both stared up at the old building. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot and the E in the motel flickered every now and then. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that it was starting to get dark. A couple started walking over to the car and Sam pointed out that they could have something for Bobby, as they were holding a book shaped parcel wrapped up. The couple passed by as the back door of the Impala opened.

“Yes, Bobby. I see the old car. I’m getting in it now. I have all of my stuff! Bobby. I shipped the rest of my stuff to you last week.” You said as you slammed the car door shut. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment, Sam mouth Bobby’s name to Dean who shrugged. “Bobby it’s bad enough you won't let me stay out here by myself… It is not my fault that the werewolf totaled my car! I’m not careless, I'm just fast… Which sometimes appears to be careless.”

“Urm. Hey, I’m Dean… are we supposed to drop you off at Bobby’s or..?” Dean started as he turned in his seat. You’d already made yourself at home, feet up on the back seat as you sprawled over, your bags shoved in the footwell.

“Bobby wants to talk to the Idjits?” You said as you leant forwards between the front seats and Sam hurriedly took the phone. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).” You said and smiled at Dean who gave you a dubious smile.

“Oh, no everything is good Bobby.” Sam said as he hung up and handed back your phone. “Bobby might have told me that we were picking someone up. I was distracted when I was looking for the map.” Sam confessed. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you sit in your seat… and don’t put your shoes up on my damn seats! I just cleaned them.” Dean complained as he started backing out of the motel parking lot. You gave him a challenging look before nodding, deciding to eat a snack so obnoxiously loud that it was hard for Dean to hide that he was irritated by the mess you were making, Sam was having a hard time not laughing at Dean. He got the impression you were going to give them, and Bobby a run for your money when it came to go along with what Bobby wanted.

******************

“You boys are late.” Bobby called out as he hung up his latest call and started heading into the kitchen through the back entrance. Dean had hurried through the door first and dumped his duffle bag by the back door.

“Yeah, well. Next time you want me to pick someone up, call a taxi!” Dean said irritably as he rummaged in the fridge for a beer.

“(Y/N) being a pain?” Bobby asked and Dean grunted out a response as he headed to the living room.

“Dean doesn’t like it when people put dirty shoes on his seats.” Sam said as he lugged in several bags that Bobby knew were definitely yours. You’d been unhappy that he’d insisted that you came to stay with him for a while. At least you eventually agreed. You came in a few moments later with just two bags that looked rather light.

“Jeez Bobby! You harpe at me for being unorganised. Look at this place. You’d double the floor space if you put up a bookshelf.” You said as soon as you followed Sam into the living room.

“If you want it any other way then you can get to it yourself.” Bobby joked as he started dishing up the food one of his neighbours had sent over. She’d been doing it a lot since he’d saved her from whatever it had been he saved her from last month. Honestly hunts seemed to bleed into one and he was happy that he could spend a little time not thinking about it, even if it meant sitting in front of the tv with his dinner and the boys taking up the space on his sofa.

“Is every room in the house like this? No wonder you take so long getting back to the hunters that call you.” You said with a cheeky tone he tutted as he shook his head.

“You have a room and you’re getting free food. You don’t like it…”

“I can go somewhere else! Great, thanks Bobby. I’ll pass the message along to Ellen.” You said cheerfully as Bobby handed you a plate of food. You took up one of the armchairs at the edge of the room, starting to tuck into the meal. Honestly you could’t remember the last time you hadn’t just grabbed fast food.

“Whose Ellen?” Sam asked curiously as he shoved Dean with his foot as he settled into one side of the sofa.

“She runs the hunter bar up in Nebraska.” You answered casually before looking over at Bobby and adding. “I thought you said these two were hunters?”

“They are. Their dad, John, hunted with your parents.” Bobby answered. Sam and Dean glanced at each other when you didn’t say anything for a long while and the mood seemed to plummet abruptly.

“Thanks for letting me stay Bobby.” You said quietly after several minutes. Bobby nodded and grunted something gruffly as he kept his attention on the tv.

**********************

“So that was weird right?” Dean asked as he fidgeted on the air mattress Bobby had put out for him. Normally he and Sam would have gotten to take turns in the spare bedroom that had started becoming infected with more and more books over the years. The room was yours now which meant the five games of rock paper scissors before driving down was a waste of time.

“I guess. I asked Bobby and he said that (Y/N)’s parents were killed on a hunt two years ago. He promised to look after (Y/N) they’ve been getting more and more careless apparently Rufus happened to find their car totalled and a werewolf nearly got them. (Y/N) was lucky Rufus had even picked up the case. That was the last straw for Bobby.” Sam said as he rolled over on the sofa. He was regretting calling dibs on the sofa now, seeing as he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Well that sucks. Hunting alone is pretty hard. I guess it’s good that Bobby’s looking out for them.” Dean said as he finally found a comfortable spot.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Bobby said we could stay until the next case or when we feel like we need to get going, apparently a bunch of demon activity has kicked up all over.” Sam said through a yawn as he turned on his side. He could just make out Dean in the dark, who must have fallen asleep, sprawled on his stomach.

The smell of fresh coffee woke Dean hours later. It was pretty light outside so he must have slept in. He could hear Sam and Bobby talking and laughing in the kitchen. “Morning.” He grumbled as he shuffled into the room. He took a seat next to you. After a quick glance he realised you were barely awake, curled up on one of the wooden dining chairs with your chin propped on your knee as you lazily shoved food into your mouth.

“I think I found a case not too far away. Only thirty minutes. I might go and check it out if you boys are up for it?” Bobby offered as he set a plate in front of Dean.

“I need to get those parts into the Impala but maybe Sammy will go with you?” Dean offered as he shoved a mouthful of pancake and bacon into his mouth.

“Sam! And yes, I can go with you. But Dean really needs to sort the car. If he hears that imaginary rattling again, he’ll go crazy.” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s not imaginary Sam! I hear it when we change gears and…”

“Maybe if you didn’t drive so fast it wouldn’t squeak.” Sam said playfully as he set his dishes in the sink. “You want to tag along, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m going to sort the stuff in my room. Bunch of guns and some books. All my stuff is still boxed up.” You said through a yawn as you handed Bobby your empty plate.

“Well hey, if you want some help with the books before we get going, I can give you a hand?” Sam offered. Dean shot him a suspicious look and Sam shrugged. 

“Sure I guess. I can’t even read some of the titles.” You answered while standing up and stretching.

“So what’s the deal with them?” Dean asked as soon as you’d left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

“(Y/N) lost their whole family.” Bobby explained briskly.

“Yeah, Sammy said. But the attitude?” Dean asked irritably and Bobby sighed.

“(Y/N)’s parents were good hunters, found a lot of stuff that’s helped a lot of hunters. The only person that they didn’t get one with was John after they had a falling out. Didn’t like how he was raising you two so they walked away. They only died two years ago, their grandparents were hunters and they had taken (Y/N) in for a year. They’re gone too. Went to stay with an uncle and. It’s just (Y/N). It’s not like hunters set up playdates for their kids. (Y/N) just has me and Rufus now.” Bobby explained bluntly. Dean sighed and frowned.

“Nice to know you weren’t the only one trying to get me to play baseball.” Dean muttered as he downed his water and left the table to head out to the Impala.

“It’s great that you took (Y/N) in Bobby. We appreciated it, when you did it for us.” Sam said awkwardly. Bobby nodded and muttered something under his breath.

******************

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked as he knocked on your door. You opened it and Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, the book problem had gotten worse.”

“Yeah, hasn’t it. This room used to be nearly empty when it came to books.” You answered as you let him in. He chuckled as you led him to the largest pile of books that was more a wall than a pile. “You think you could help me move these downstairs. I figured I can organise the books and learn the phones for Bobby, since he’s taking me in.”

“Yeah. I can totally help you with that!” Sam said a little too eagerly. He winced. Bobby seemed to hope that you would hit it off with him and Dean. Sam knew what you were going through and had wanted to try and help, even if it was just hanging around with you. Bobby was right, even when he was hunting with Dean, hunting could get lonely. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have lost so much so quickly.

“Maybe if we just start with taking all the books to the living room, we could organise them by the area that the lore comes from… maybe?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam said and you smiled, nodding as the two of you started shifting books. By the time half of the books had been moved, you were opening up to Sama  little more. Swapping hunt stories seemed to be the ticket to getting you to talk. Once he’d cracked you, it didn’t stop.

“Sam you ready?” Bobby asked as you and Sam carried down another load of books. He glanced at you and you nodded.

“I’m good. Sam figured a way to categorize so I should be able to finish sorting the books in my room by myself.” You insisted and smiled at Bobby who looked a bit relieved that you’d taken to Sam.

“Dean will be here manning the phones, looks like it should be a quick hunt, a day or too.” Bobby explained and you nodded.

“You can call if you need us.” You answered cheerfully as you playfully punched Sam’s arm before turning back to the latest, muddled, pile of books.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

BTHB: Forced to Watch

That’s right, it’s that time again! @muffinworry​ requested: @badthingshappenbingo​:  forced to watch with my girl ashley

As always: puppy stickers equals fulfilled, blood stains are requested

Tagging: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper​ @special-spicy-chicken​

CW: Stabbing, blood, referenced/implied noncon and abuse

“Ora, if you don’t start paying attention, this story is going to take a really long time to tell.” 

When Ora didn’t look up - a flash of the green hair on their head, dirty and clumped together by now, all they gave Ashley to look at -  Ashley sighed heavily, wondering why she put up with this. Sure, she didn’t know how to drive and Ora Collins at least appeared to have the car mostly under control (totally under control at the moment, as they were not even in the car, they were tied to a chair), but they were three days in and they should feel bonded by now.

Right? Shouldn’t they?

How long did it take Bram to start getting his boys to bond with him? Oh, but Bram had the eyes, and Ashley was never going to have the eyes. Not unless they met another like themselves and Bram helped her cut that one’s eyes out. 

“Ora. Come on, this place is a shithole and I do not have all day to walk you through this.” Ora sniffed, and Ashley paused while licking a bit of red off one fingernail. “What? What’s that noise for?”

Sometimes - if she was truly honest with herself - Ashley envied the other vampires. It would have been nice to live on blood, copper-salt-sweet and sparking with life in it. She could have been a great vampire like that. Instead, here she was, buzzing off the conflicting miseries of relief and hate and - strongest of all - fear that came from the poor little thing she carried along with her.

Well, and nice and full already from the meal currently slumped hard to one side and tied to a chair across the table from Ora.

“Ora, I am talking to you, and you remember the rules-”

“I’m sorry!” Ora jerked their head back up this time, meeting Ashley’s gaze with wide, frightened hazel eyes. Honestly, Ora’s eyes were their best feature, and Ashley never got tired of how they looked ringed in white from fear. “I’m s-sorry, Ashley, it’s just-... it’s just, it’s really h-h-hard to watch, to watch you...”

“What? To watch me cut him up?” Ashley blinked, looked at the man tied to the chair next to where she stood, then back to Ora. She gestured with the large chef’s knife she held in one hand, already smeared with the man’s blood. “He died like two hours ago, Ora, what’s the problem?”

“H-he… I kn, I know he’s d-dead, Ashley, but you k-keep cutting h-h-him…” Ora’s voice hiccupped, finally, into sobs and their head dropped once more as they began to cry, tears wetting little droplets onto the fabric of their jeans. They were still wearing the ones she had met them in, although Ashley had been nice enough to steal a bunch of different shirts and underwear somewhere in Iowa.

She was pretty sure they were in Nebraska now? It was flat and pointless, in any case, and Ashley had vague memories of the center of this stupid baby country being flat and pointless. Harder people lived out here, but fewer of them. 

No one like her could live long without a nice big population center to feed on, and Nebraska… Nebraska wasn’t it.

Ashley sighed and raked a hand back through her hair, frowning as she remembered she had a lot of blood on that hand. Oh, well. She’d have to shower before they left anyway. Brammie would take Ora into the shower with him, if he were here, start that whole mess back up, but Ashley valued her private time more than her Brammie ever had.

She missed her baby brother.

Baby by a few minutes, anyway.

But they’d find him soon enough in that prison in California, and then Ashley would set him free. It wasn’t fair to lock up something so beautifully wild as her brother. Do you blame a wolf for eating deer? Do you lock up a raccoon for digging through trash cans?

“Ora. I’m going to get rid of this whole…” She waved the knife around in a lazy circle, gesturing to the man who’d had the bad luck to piss Ashley off. “... mess. But I’m not going to do it until you have finished listening to me, and you have to look or the whole visual aid part of this just isn’t going to work.”

“B-But I don’t want to see the visual aid!” Ora wailed, and the sound of their sweet sad voice echoed off the walls. Ashley shivered, pleasantly, felt electricity light up her nerve endings and flood her veins. Moments like this were why Brammie kept Nate around, weren’t they? That little buzz in your fingertips, behind your eyes, the way Ashley felt like any moment now her hair might stand on end from the pure perfection of Ora Collins and their precious little fear.

“Ora. Darling. Light of my life, love of my heart. My absolute goddamn treasure.” Ashley leaned over, pointing the blade right at Ora’s little face. 

She watched their head slowly rise, eyes nearly crossing as they focused with new panic on the point of the knife so close to them. Ashley licked her lips, slowly, and tilted her head to take in more fully the sudden quick rise and fall of Ora’s chest under their baggy shirt. 

“Watch. The visual. Aid. Or I will cut your eyelids off so you can’t blink any longer. Am I understood?”

Ora’s throat moved in a sudden a swallow and they nodded quickly, hair falling into their face, and Ashley used the chef’s knife to gently - ever so gently - push it back to the side. She loved watching the wide hazel eyes following every movement.

“So. As I was saying. Brammie’s little boyfriend and I - he’d been living with us for three years by then, give or take - were alone in the house. Brammie still had to hunt, because he wasn’t doing enough to Nate to just, to just really eat him by then. It’s that whole nonsense thing about love, you know? We’ve been around for so, so long, and Brammie’s boys are a dime a dozen for forever and then we run into this pretty little prince of his and bam!” Ashley slammed her free hand down on the table and Ora jumped, letting out a scared little cry.

Ashley felt the reverberation of that cry right down her spine, like the lick of a lover’s tongue.

“Bam,” She repeated but gently this time. “He’s in love. He’s in love, Ora Collins, and you know what my Brammie and I don’t do?” Ora swallowed again - they swallow so much when they’re talking to Ashley, don’t they? - and ventured, in a trembling voice, “You, you don’t… fall in love?”

“Right. Absolutely right, Ora-who-I-adore-ah. We don’t fall in love. Why would we? Everyone dies in the end but us. What’s the goddamn point?” She sighed and rested her free hand on Ora’s shoulder, giving it a little reassuring squeeze, leaning over to look right at them. Ora stared back, their eyes shifting back and forth, as though trying to find some softness or give on Ashley’s.

There was none to find. 

Ashley knew her eyes were empty, reflection of light off the ice of a vast, lifeless lake. Bram had all the life in his. Ashley was nothing but walking death.

“So, anyway. Nate came to live with us - and at first we had to lock him in, and my Brammie… oh, the things my Brammie did to him.” Ashley breathed out, the happy memories flooding her system, and moved slowly away, circling the chair Ora was tied to, turning to look at the dead man on the other side of this small, sad little Formica table in some stupid shit town in stupid fucking Nebraska in this absolutely pointless fucking country.

“Wh-what things?” Ora asked, voice still shaky, but a little steadier now. “I r-read a little about the trial…”

“Hmmm, I doubt much of that came into play. Nate liked the things my Brammie did. You don’t talk about the parts you like in court, in my experience.” 

“Have you… eh-ever been to court?”

Ashley paused, tapping her chin with the blunt side of the knife. “I guess I haven’t. Well, unimportant to my story so shut your fucking face for five seconds while I set up the visual aid.”

Ora nodded, biting down on their lower lip. Ashley watched them stretch their wrists against the strength of the rope and find just enough give to add a little comfort, not enough to escape. Ashley was being nice to Ora, but she wasn’t going to be that nice… or that stupid.

Brammie had been stupid, once. 

Ashley would never be dumb enough to give another body the chance.

“So. In any case, after three years, you know, we were pretty used to each other.” Ashley started walking again, looking down to watch her own toes spread out against the dingy tile floor, yellowed with time. She stopped behind the man’s body, grabbing it by the short black hair on its head and yanking back, lifting the empty horrified green eyes to stare right at Ora. “We had our routine. Nate did all the cooking and cleaning like the good little housewife Brammie kept him to be, they fucked a lot-”

Ora winced.

“Oh, what, you’ve never fucked someone? What about Penny? I mean, it seemed like you did-”

“N-no, it’s just… it’s not that, Ashley, I swear, it’s just-” Ora’s gaze went to the fridge - wide open with only a jug of expired milk and a half-empty box of baking soda inside - and then it danced everywhere but at Ashley. “Can you not make me look at his, um, his eyes?”

“Oh, this is the problem? Yeah, sure.” Ashley dropped the head and it flopped hard back down, chin on its chest. “Sorry about that.”

“Th-thank you, Ashley,” Ora whispered. Oh, they learned the rules fast, and they learned them well. Ashley might actually regret killing Ora once they made it to her destination.

“Anyway. My story. So we had a good thing going, the three of us. Nate was a dartboard, he was a footstool for me one time, I cut the shit out of him, he and Brammie had some weird fucked up sex thing going… it was just a really good life, trust me. Then… then Brammie goes out hunting one day because he couldn’t hurt Nate anymore, he was in love the absolute dumbass, and while he was out…”

Ashley sighed, resting one arm on the shoulder of the corpse, looking down at it a little fondly. “While Brammie was out hunting, Nate picked up a knife. I didn’t expect it anymore. I thought… I was an idiot. He fooled us both, that son of a bitch. He shouldn’t have been able to but he did. He was cooking for me, and I came in to check on the progress, and…” Ashley’s grip tightened on the handle of the chef’s knife.

“And… and what?” Ora looked up slowly, nervously.

Ashley smiled, and there was blood smeared on her teeth. “Then he fucking stabbed me to death, Ora.” 

Her arm moved with inhuman speed to jam the blade right through the corpse’s chest, and Ora let out a startled breathy scream, jerking at their restraints. “Like this. And this. And fucking this. Get your fucking eyes back on me!” Ora started to cry, again, tears racing down their face on either side like gorgeous little raindrops, and Ashley laughed, a high-pitched half-shattered sound, at the sight. 

Ashley kept stabbing, making new wounds in a dead body over and over and over again, checking to see if Ora was looking, and they were, they were. The horror and disgust, the way Ora’s face went white and then green, it all fed Ashley, settled deep inside her bones and she felt the most ancient parts of her shift in happiness, in every single second being exactly what she was made to be.

She counted up the wounds - she thought maybe 37, it was hard to remember when you were being fucking stabbed to death by your brother’s boyfriend - and when she was done the knife clattered back to the ground, and Ashley stood, breathing hard, a snarl pulling lips back from her pinkish-stained teeth. “He killed me, Ora. Brammie’s little boyfriend killed me. Then he got up, and he left while I was still choking on my own fucking blood, and when I woke up it was five years later and you and your little asshole girlfriend were in my fucking house and my brother’s in fucking prison!”

Ora cringed back into their seat, into the restraints, trying to choke back their sobs and failing, failing miserably, failing beautifully. The sound of their tears bounced off the walls in this dirty little kitchen and everything seemed, in that moment, just a little bit brighter.

Pl-please,” Ora half-whispered, trembling and beautiful. “Please don’t, don’t do th-th-this anymore, please…”

Ashley sighed, nudging the corpse with her foot. Blood leaked from wounds as an afterthought, the motherfucker was too dead to be worth much of a show. Ashley looked down at her own hands, ran them over her chest and torso, reminding herself that her wounds were gone. They had healed, while she waited to come back. 

They had healed.

She was healed.

And she had a fucking job to do.

“That was the end of the visual aid, Ora. But my point is, Nate Vandrum is a piece of shit who didn’t know how good he had it, he murdered me, and I would very much like to find his dumb ass and murder him right back. But I have a feeling my brother won’t let me. So you - and I - are going to do the next best thing.”

“We… w-we are?” Ora raised their head one more, and Ashley moved to them swiftly, leaning over to take that softly rounded little chin in her hand. They did not flinch or pull away from her touch - they knew so many rules now, they were such a good little friend. “What’s the next best th-thing, Ashley?”

“Please,” Ashley said gently, lovingly, petting at Ora’s face, leaving little red stripes there that would dry and turn brown and flake away. “Please call me Ash, Ora, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“R-Right. F-F-Friends, Ash.” Ora nodded quickly, swallowing hard again. “We’re friends, right. Wh, whatever you say, is, is right.”

“That’s my… well. That’s my little Ora. See, this is why you got to be the one that lived. Lucky, lucky little thing.” Ashley kissed them once on each cheek, then petted one hand gently through Ora’s hair. After holding themselves stiffly still, Ashley felt Ora slowly force themselves to relax, and smiled with delight when Ora pushed their head a little harder into the touch of Ashley’s hand.

“Oh, you’re so good,” Ashley murmured, nearly purred the words, and Ora let out a shaking, audible breath of relief. “You’re such a good Oracle. We’re going to find my brother, we’ll let him out, and he will lead us to Nate Vandrum and that redheaded mop he tried to kill him for.”

“And, and then we’ll k-k-kill them?” Ora asked, keeping their voice low, whispering right back to her. “Then they’ll d-d-die?”

“Hm.” Ashley cradled Ora’s head in her hands for a moment longer, then let go and stood, stretching her arms high over her head, until the knobs of her spine cracked, until she felt the stretch of every single muscle in her body.

You should never take those living muscles for granted, after all. They could die any day, and not everyone would die with the coins to pay their debt.

“I d-d-don’t want to help you kill anyone,” Ora said, low and pleading. “I don’t want to be a murderer, Ash.”

“Don’t worry, darling, you won’t.” Ashley smiled. 

“B-but… you’re going to kill them?”

Ashley kicked the bloody knife until it banged hard into a wall across the little room. “Probably not.” Ora looked up, hope in their pretty hazel eyes, and Ashley licked her lips against how it was about to feel when she drained all that hope away. “They tried to kill my brother, after all. Killing them is going to be his job. But you and I… well. Have you ever heard about how the people who lived here before the colonists fucked it all up used to trap buffalo?”

Ora blinked, and slowly shook their head. Hair fell back over their eyes, but this time Ashley left it there. “N-No, Ash, I haven’t.”

“They would find the buffalo, and set up a trap. And a few would wave blankets and shout and maybe shoot an arrow or two, but the buffalo would stampede away from what they saw at the threat and run right into the trap. They’d get caught there, milling around, and then they just waited to die. So we’re going to set my brother free. We’re going to find his pretty little buffalo roaming the open range.” Ashley slid her hands into the back pockets of her own jeans, licking a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. “Then you and I are going to wave some blankets and yell.”

“And… and y-y-your brother does the, um, the killing?” Ora’s voice was low, but after a second they nodded, thoughtfully. “I can… I can do that. If I don’t d-d-do the killing, Ash, I can, I can do that.”

“Wonderful. I knew I liked you for a reason. Now stay here and watch over our little buddy while I go take a shower. Once I’m clean, you can have yours and we’ll see if we can’t find you some fucking sweatpants or something in this house.” Ashley paused, then clapped her hands together in sudden delight. “I’m pretty sure I saw a KFC when we came in through town, let’s have fried chicken for dinner!”

Ora stared at the dead man who had once owned this house, and who had made the mistake of catcalling Ashley and calling Ora some kind of slur while they were getting gas. He was a dick to Ashley, and now he was dead.

To Ashley, it all made absolutely perfect sense.

Finally, Ora said softly, “Fried, um, fried chicken sounds pretty g-g-good…”

“And what do we say when someone offers to give us a gift, Oracle Collins?”

Ora smiled up at her - it was watery, and frightened, but it was a smile. “We s-s-say thank you, Ash. Thank you for offering to get me fried chicken for dinner.”

“You’re so welcome, love.” Ashley ruffled Ora’s pretty green hair and then turned to walk away. As she stomped up the stairs, she called out, “I’ll buy you some new hair dye, too, let’s get you all bright and fun again before we head west tomorrow!”

Oracle Collins, wearing week-old dirty jeans and tied down to a chair three feet from a corpse still leaking blood from too many stab wounds to count, let their eyes go slowly unfocused so they wouldn’t have to see anything at all any longer.

Somewhere nearby a police siren started up, but Ora didn’t raise their head. 

They knew those sirens weren’t coming to help.

[shirtlesssammy]

3x01: The Magnificent Seven

Then:

Dean’s going to Hell, but he’ll go down fighting

Now:

In Oak Park, Illinois, a man takes the trash out, sees his very dirty car and wonders what it’s all for. His trash starts rattling, the street lights start flickering, and a giant cloud of black smoke moves to town. Listen, buddy. Even if you haven’t seen Supernatural yet, you’ve watched Lost. Get the fork away from the Black Smoke. Alas, he doesn’t run fast enough, and is possessed --and so is the rest of Chicago. 

One Week Later

Sam’s reading lore on crossroads deals while Dean’s enjoying what little time he has left with the Cartwright* Twins (*Boris’s headcanon from Scoobynatural).

Bobby calls to tell Sam that he’s found something. Sam decides to burn out his retinas and interrupts Dean. Anyway, Dean’s enjoying the finer things in life and nothing’s gonna bring him down. 

They head to Mulder’s House Cain’s House a house in Nebraska to check out locust swarms and crop failure. Bobby’s already there. No one answers the door, so they bust in. The stench that greets them is overwhelming. “That so can’t be a good sign,” Dean rightly points out. They find a family enjoying a nice binge. 

They head outside to find Isaac and Tamara, two hunters. 

The couple is cute as fuck, and knowing what I know about Supernatural, soon to be dead as fuck. (I mean, I’ve also seen this episode but still…) Sam cuts right to the awkward part of the evening and asks how they got in the business (TRAGICALLY, SAM, ALWAYS TRAGICALLY.)

Dean gets off the phone with the coroner’s tech and the family died of dehydration and starvation. They all wonder what’s going on. Isaac for one, isn’t going to stick around to find out. Thanks to the brothers Winchester, there are “a couple hundred more demons out there.” They brought war to the hunter community. Tamara drags her husband away before war breaks out in that little room. 

Enter mysterious blond woman through the fog. (Hint: IT’S RUBY.) 

Suburban Trash man enters a store and tells a woman that another woman is looking at some nice shoes. I would just like to point out that those two women are so different in height that NO WAY do they share the same shoe size. There’s really no point in the bloody violence that follows. 

The brothers check out the crime scene. Dean’s inside the store “comforting the bereaved.” And I just LOVE how Jensen reads that line. Idk why. It tickles me. 

Bobby pops up all spiffy. He just talked to the suspect. She doesn’t seem possessed. Sam admits to finding nothing at the crime scene. Dean looks to the security camera and says, “I’m working.” That you are, bby. 

They start looking for the guy in the security video when Ruby starts tracking down Sam. 

Later that night, Sam finds Dean and Bobby at a stakeout at a bar. He has a name and a location on where he’s from. They’re thinking he’s possessed. He then makes an appearance at the bar. Bobby wants to watch him, but Isaac and Tamara show up. 

Isaac is about to take out Trashman demon when another demon stops him. It turns out, they’re surrounded by demons. WHERPS. Dean and Co. try busting into the bar. The demons make lewd comments about Tamara and then one demon offers Isaac a drink of drain cleaner. He drinks the whole jug. 

Bobby’s Chevelle and the gang bust into the bar, grab Tamara and Trashman demon and skedaddle. 

Back at the house, they’ve got the demon under a devil’s trap and ready for interrogation. Tamara would rather be out there ripping every last demon to shreds, though. Just use that stockpile of angel blades! You can fight eight of them at a time with nothing but an old bar stool! It’ll be easy! Oh…wait… Wrong season. Bobby deduces that they’re up against the seven deadly sins, who are actually demons. (I mean, kinda sweet that these demons are still such a tight knit family unit after so many thousands of years.)

Envy is the one they’ve pinned in their demon trap. He’s having a super fun time now that he’s out of Hell. He assigns the various sins to each of the hunters present: wrath, gluttony, lust… He tells them that humans are just violent animals, and they’ll be slaughtered soon. 

Dean smiles at the demon, and Tamara begins the exorcism. While the demon screams in the background, Bobby notes that the other six demons are definitely going to be having themselves a nice hunter hunt. 

Sam and Bobby are ready to go down guns a-blazing, and they hunker down and prepare for battle. 

Music plays as the radio flickers on, and outside Isaac begins shouting for Tamara. He begs for help and scatters real details from their past. She cries as (the demon possessing) Isaac accuses her of abandoning him. The demon brings up their dead daughter, and Tamara snaps and races outside to pin Isaac’s body with the blessed wood. With the salt line brushed away by the open door, the rest of the demons race inside. Everybody scatters, which is always the best plan in a demon emergency!

Bobby neatly traps Sloth in a devil’s trap, while Dean gets cornered by Lust. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Not unless you want me too.” Oh honey, he does.

Pride confronts Sam and tries to dismantle the legend of Sam Fucking Winchester by ridiculing him. IMPOSSIBLE! 

Dean slams Lust into a bathtub full of holy water, and Sam gets his ass saved by the mysterious hot blond (who is currently unknown at the time). She kills Pride with her magic demon-killing knife. She bids Sam farewell BY NAME and then disappears from the house. 

The next morning, they drop three of the demon’s host bodies into a shallow grave. Tamara gives Isaac a lonely hunter’s funeral. Two others survived. Remember when sometimes demon hosts survived? 

Sam ponders who else they might have let out if the seven deadly sins were part of the demon release party. They bid Tamara farewell and wish her safety. The Winchesters head off, steeling themselves for the demon war, and Bobby does the same. 

Sam suggests that their next move is to visit a priestess who might be able to help with Dean’s deal. Dean refuses. If his deal falls through then Sam dies, and that’s not a price he’s willing to pay. “I got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?”

The Seven Deadly Quotes:

I was expecting a weary sigh or an eye roll

I sold my soul. Got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol

Candygram!

You guys seem nice enough, but, this ain't "Scooby-Doo," and we don't play well with others

So he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?

You try exorcising all night and see how you feel

What do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[imaginemyboys-blog]

Lost and Found

Sister Winchester

No pairing

Summery: Y/N has never had a good life so she is leaving it behind. She is leaving behind the hurt, the pain, and the loss. She has no destination, no plan for the future but will she find someplace to call home.

You hiked you bag up further, didn't dare to look behind you. There was nothing there for you. No point at looking at the house that caused you so much pain. You were done with foster family's and people that used you. While not all of them were bad this last one would give you nightmares for years to come. You felt dirty and used and in all honesty didn't see the point on continueing, but you would. They would not get the better of you, the world would not win. No matter how hard the world beat you down you would keep a stiff upper lip and keep going. You had two months till you turned 18 anyway what was the point in staying another second in that hell hole.

So you made your way down the street and out of town, no destination in mind just away. Away from the pain and heartache and the loss. You let the moon guide you once the lights of the town were behind you. Walking until the first rays of light peaked above the fields. The sun is brighter than your future but at least you were leaving the darkness of your past, or so you hoped.

You knew you didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, the only thing you had from your father was his last name, Winchester. You didn't even know if he knew you were alive and if he did, he deffinently didn't care. Your mother had left you at the church when you were four. It was before Nebraska had changed the law on the age of limitations for safe-haven so she was able to get rid of you, to throw you away like last week's trash. You didn't know what you could have done to elicit such a thing but you must have done something for her to give you up. You bounced around from house to house until now, here you were leaving all the heartache behind and moving forward. You knew your future looked bleak but anything was better than what you were leaving behind.

A Month Later

You shivered on the ground. Sitting in the corner of an abandoned warehouse, trying and failing to get some sleep. It was too cold, the wind howled through the warehouse, tearing through your thin jacket and jeans. You were curled up, your knees drawn up to your chest, your eyes vigilant, searching the dark. You were never safe and even if you were able to sleep you know it wouldn't be deep. You knew you would jolt awake at every little noise or gust of wind. A loud bang to your right startled you. Your eyes searched the darkness trying to pinpoint what made the sound. You had seen a lot of strange unexplainable things in the past month and you didn't want to know what could be lurking in the darkness. What could be waiting in the shadows for the right moment to attack. A scraping along the ground started up, a deep growl emitting from the darkness, growing in volume, getting closer and closer to you.

“Hello! Who's there?” You called out. Hoping it was somehow your imagination.

The growl grew louder and all your instincts urged you to run. So you listened and bolted, a roar erupted from behind you, your own scream echoing in response. Every cell in your body telling you to get away as fast as you could. You crashed out of the warehouse, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your heart pounding in your ears, your feet slapping the pavement. You spared a glance behind you, only to see the thing gaining on you. You saw a corner ahead, hoping to lose the monster by hiding. That there was something on the other side of that corner to duck behind. Pushing yourself a little harder, trying to make it around that corner, hoping to find safety, you ran.

Careening around the corner you slammed into someone, bouncing off of them and falling to the ground. Your head bounced off the pavement and you felt disoriented, the bangs of a gun sounded above you. You flinched at each gun shot, you didn't want to look up and see cops, cops were your worst nightmare. You would rather that monster kill you then go with some cops. Knowing that the cops would throw you back into the system. A guttural cry followed by a thump behind you told you the monster was dead. You stood up, your eyes landing on two men who most definitely weren't cops.

Both tall and imposing, dressed in jeans and flannel. You really wanted to bolt, but you knew if they wanted to catch you they would. They both held pistols in their hands, pointed towards the ground but their finger just a hair's breadth away from the trigger. Blood splattered across the shorter ones face. They stood there like giants ready to strike down anything.

“Are you okay?” The man with the longer hair and bigger build asked. His shoulders relaxing from the tense coil they had been in. He tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans, his partner(?) doing the same.

You jerkily nodded, your mind moving a mile a minute trying to figure out how to get out of this situation and where you're going to sleep tonight. Maybe you would try under the bridge of the freeway, near the river. Cops rarely patrolled there, you may get a few hours of sleep in.

“Hey kid, what the hell were you doing out here?” The other man asked, accusation clear in his tone.

“It's none of your business,” You shot back, your chin tilted up diffidently. You didn't want them to see the fear that was still gripping your heart on your face.

“Can we at least drive you home?” The taller one offered.

“No thank you” Your head looked behind you, already mapping out the walk to the river, “Thanks for saving my life and all, but I should be going.”

You tried not to tense up as you walked away. You hated turning your back on people but you had to get out of this situation. Before they asked too many questions, before they found out anything about you. People when they found out that you were a 17 year old girl living on the streets, well let's just say they took advantage of the situation. You didn't need to spend any more time alone with two strange men, it didn't matter if they saved your life or not.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a strong gust of wind blew. You could hear the men behind you, talk and moving about but you out one foot in tint of the other. Taking you further and further away from them. Further away from the monster that had tried to kill you. You looked up at the moon, the only constant in your life now. Wondering where it would take you next.

-

You walked along the two lane highway in the early light of the rising sun. You hadn't been able to sleep the night before, the lingering fear from the incedent, as you were calling it, kept you awake. So here you were, ready to move on from this town and to the next, dead on your feet just wishing you had the money for breakfast but knowing your pockets were empty. Cars rushed past you periodically, never slowly, not a glance spared your way. It was times like this you wished someone would stop, ask you if you were okay, take you in and be family. But you knew the reality, that if someone did stop it wasn't out of the kindness of their heart but that they wanted something from you.

You didn't trust anyone and rightfully so. No one had ever treated you with kindness. You heard the rumbling of an engine slow down beside you. Your shoulders hunched inward, knowing that if they paid you enough you would do anything. You felt disgusting but the emptiness of your stomach was too prevalent to ignore.

“Hey kid you alright?” A familiar voice shouted.

Your head shot up, eyes wide as you looked upon your saviors from the night before. You shrug your shoulders in response, trying to act nonchalant but the biting cold and the hunger made you look more pathetic than anything.

“I'm Dean this is my brother Sam, we saved ya last night.” Dean said from behind the wheel, “Where's your family kid?”

“Don't got none, not that it's any of your business,” You mumbled a reply.

“Where are you going?” Sam spoke up from beside his brother.

You just shrugged in reply. Both brothers looked at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation. After awkwardly standing outside their car while they communicated they seemed to come to an agreement.

“How about we take you to breakfast kid,” Dean offered.

You shuddered internally, trying not to think of what they would want in return. The growling of your stomach reminding you that you hadn't eaten in days.

“How am I supposed to pay y'all back?” You asked, shoving your hands in your pockets, shifting from foot to foot.

“Kid you don't have to pay us back. You look like your about to keel over any second. You look like you could use some food and we were heading to breakfast anyway.” Dean spoke his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yeah right, no one does things out of the kindness of their heart,” You bit back.

“Well we are. So if you want breakfast get in.” Dean gruffly apple back.

You reached for the handle, knowing that you would end up regretting the decision. Hunger always did win though.

Sam turned around once you were sitting in the backseat and Dean started driving.

“What's your name?” He asked

“Y/N. Y/N Winchester” You replayed.

The screeching of brakes erupted and you flew forward, slamming into the seat in front of you before colliding into the seat you were sitting out. Dean whipped around his eyes wild.

“Did you say Winchester?”

Part 2

Want to support me

[janiedean]

*Roose Bolton voice* I'm dissapointed in you

HEY ANON SORRY FOR THE LATENESS BUT I’M SURE YOU SENT THIS FOR SPRINGSTEEN ANALYSIS, RIGHT? ;) then sure let’s have something! what can I get for you with the roose bolton voice, hm…

OH OKAY LET’S GO BLEAK POLITICAL.

so: SEEDS!

Seeds is an outtake from born in the USA and was only properly published in 1998 when it ended up on tracks (a four-cds compilation of outtakes that still doesn’t even fucking scratch the surface of what he has in the vaults bruce come on take the rest out), but as a lot of other bruce songs that were never technically published on official records it has enjoyed a very lively life on stage/live especially when our man gets political. we should probably put as a premise, other than that, that this was one of bruce’s first political pieces following the vein that would then end up in bitusa, tom joad, youngstown and so on, and as a lot of those songs it focuses on poverty/unemployment in the us of a. it’s not a coincidence that it was out of the bitusa sessions post-nebraska, but then again nebraska was his first record with Serious Political Themes and half of the original songs ended up on bitusa anyway so those records are pretty much tied together.

also, seeds has been a favorite throughout the bitusa tour (the one where bruce dissed reagan) where it was played along the title track, a cover of war that you can find on the live 75-85 box set, johnny 99 and atlantic city. as in, basically it gave you a pretty straight bleak picture of the current times, and it came back with a vengeance post bush-jr and I’m 100% sure it’ll show up again when he tours post-trump.

anyhow, as I think I’ve bored you enough with the technicalities, let’s move on to the actual thing. so, what do we have?

Well a great black river a man had foundSo he put all his money in a hole in the groundAnd sent a big steel arm driving down down downMan now I live on the streets of Houston town

so, we’re starting with a bang. first thing, the song’s title is seeds, which should suggest us that it’s about either agriculture or farmers.

except that it opens saying that ‘a man found a great black river’, and at the end of the stanza we find out that we’re in houston, so presumably around texas, so the black river that then turns into a hole in the ground with a big steel arm driving down down down (which considering the fast rhythm of the song gives you anxiety just hearing it) means that someone found oil and started drilling it in texas and as a consequence the narrator lives in the streets of one of texas’s biggest cities, so we can suppose that this guy was a farmer, he lost his land because of the oil drill and now he’s homeless. NICE START GUYS! but let’s go on.

Packed up my wife and kids when winter came alongAnd we headed down south with just spit and a songBut they said “Sorry son it’s gone gone gone”

next stanza, we find out that our guy has a family that he had to pack up when winter came along, so either his land was dead because of the oil drill or he couldn’t support them anymore out of farming. now, this could either be set in texas or not, but since in the eighties a lot of people from the north who lost their houses or land and used to be farmers or steel workers or so on went to texas because it was said to be someplace they could get jobs (again I know I say it every damned time but if you read dale maharidge’s somewhere like america or journey to nowhere you’ll see exactly what I meant), so either he went to texas from a nearby state or he was in northern texas and went down south, but the point is: he lost his job, he was a farmer (so not in a good position to start from since farming hasn’t made much money for small owners for a while) and now he’s gone to texas with a spit and a song (ie: hope), but as the song’s music keeps on being fairly bleak, the only answer he’s given is ‘sorry but it’s gone, gone, gone’, as in: if he wanted work, there isn’t any.

Well there’s men hunkered down by the railroad tracksThe Elkhorn Special blowing my hair backTents pitched on the highway in the dirty moonlightAnd I don’t know where I’m gonna sleep tonight

If we thought that was bad news, though, we’re just getting started, because not only our dude isn’t the only one in that same situation (men hunkered down by the railroad tracks, referring to the fact that in the eighties a lot of people had started riding trains again like in the great depression so they slept near the railroad - the elkohorn special is the name of a train), in tents along the highway in the *dirty* moonlight which suggests you a fairly bleak, sad picture. also, he doesn’t know where he’s going to sleep tonight, which means he doesn’t even have the tent.

Parked in the lumberyard freezing our asses offMy kids in the back seat got a graveyard coughWell I’m sleeping up in front with my wifeBilly club tapping on the windshield in the middle of the nightSays “Move along man move along”

solution: sleeping in the car, since they don’t have anything else. so, the guy and his family try to sleep in the car in a lumberyard with his children being sick (graveyard cough, suggesting that it’s pretty damned bad), except that they can’t even do that because the police shows up and tells them to leave, which was apparently common practice in texas at the time (again: same thing happened to the reporters in the aforementioned book because they had a car with ohio plates…), so they can’t stay and have to *move along*, but to where? we just don’t know.

so: the guy used to be a farmer, lost his job, went down to texas to look for work with his wife and kids, didn’t find any, was treated like crap and can’t even sleep in his car with his family, the alternative is tents along the highway or a railroad in winter, his kids are sick and there’s no hint of salvation anywhere nor of government help nor… really much of anything.

Well big limousine long shiny and blackYou don’t look ahead you don’t look backHow many times can you get up after you’ve been hit?

now, that’s it for the backstory - we don’t know where the narrator ends up or if he finds work. but we learn his opinion. first of all, he talks to a generic ‘big long shiny black limousine’, which we can automatically assume means that he’s talking to someone rich (or the idea of someone rich) who could afford such a car (he certainly can) accusing them of not looking ahead ( = not seeing the consequences of their greed, which we can tie back to the oil drill in the first part that started our guy’s problems) and of not looking back ( = can mean that they don’t care for who comes behind them in wealth or that they don’t remember not being wealthy or both), and then asks them, how many times can you get up after being hit, as in, how many times could you fall on your feet before you end up like me?

we just don’t know, but probably more than the narrator… though one supposes the narrator is hoping the time comes for them, too. that becomes veery clear in the next part:

Well I swear if I could spare the spitI’d lay one on your shiny chromeAnd send you on your way back home

if he could spare the spit (which suggests he can’t, so maybe they barely even have means to drink and eat) he’d use it to spit on the limousine ie what stands for enormous undeserved wealth that a) the narrator will never obtain, b) caused the (economical) situation that brought the narrator to misery, so we also can see that the narrator is absolutely aware that his poverty is tied with the fact that rich people don’t care for the likes of him and would throw him under the dirt in a second, nor care if he can’t support himself anymore. and then he’d send the rich person back home, if he could. but he can’t.

and that’s bleak enough, but then we get to the last part and it gets possibly worse:

So if you’re gonna leave your town where the north wind blowTo go on down where that sweet soda river flowWell you better think twice on it JackYou’re better off buying a shotgun dead off the rackYou ain’t gonna find nothing down here friendExcept seeds blowing up the highway in the south windMoving on moving on it’s gone gone it’s all gone

at this point, the narrator is addressing someone else - someone named jack who could be anyone as it’s an extremely common name - who might want to go south and tells him not to. going south means leaving a town where the north wind blows (so where it’s cold and there’s nothing for them) to go where that sweet soda river flow which paints an imagery of a river overflowing with sugary refined drink… from which poor people can’t serve themselves anyway, and according to the narrator if that is the plan, then you’re better off buying a shotgun ie killing yourself before you go south because there is nothing down there except seeds blowing up the highway in another type of wind, so the seeds they might have planted back home are getting wasted along the highway people sleep on… and everything is gone and they have nothing left.

and the fact that it’s this bleak is probably why it didn’t end up on the record proper (admittedly bitusa has a slightly different feeling so it probably wouldn’t have fit given that it’s a lot more raw and musically angry than any other song on that record except maybe bitusa but the electric version lures you in with the beat and you don’t realize how angry it is until you hear the original imvho), but it’s sadly a fairly accurate portrayal of how things were going bad economically for all the people laid off without a second chance to find something better in the late 70s-early 80s. too bad that things haven’t changed and this piece has stayed pretty much relevant even these days.

thank you anon with the roose bolton voice, I hope you enjoyed the fruits of your disappointment ;)

[jnumyeons]

god is a woman

you’ll believe that god is most definitely a woman.

words: 3,694

a/n: finally, i’m publishing one of my halloween works. i took a lot of references from stephen king’s short story, children of the corn and maybe the 1984 film as well but i tried to have my own spin on it. there could be some errors hidden within this.

warnings: death, kids dying, language, horror?, religious talk and i mean lots of it 

changmin x oc

sakura looked at the sky above her, watching the clouds roll by as changmin sat in the driver’s seat next to her, eyes fixated on the road in front of him. even though the windows were down, it was still hot in the chevelle and all she could see was corn for miles. she turned her focus on the boy next to her, smiling as she gazed at his prominent features. plump lips. big doe eyes. beautiful nose.

changmin was everything a girl could ever want and desire. how she’d get so lucky? sighing, sakura placed her hand on his thigh and gently rubbed it, breaking the silence, “hey, you know where we are?” he glanced at her before focusing back on the road, shaking his head and shrugging, “no, not really. i just know we’re in nebraska.”

sakura groaned as she squeezed his thigh, throwing her head back against the seat, “i’ll tell you what though, i’ll never look at corn the same way after this.” changmin chuckled, feeling himself getting hard. her hand left his thigh when she grabbed the atlas from behind her in the backseat and started turning the pages, looking for the state of nebraska.

trailing her finger around on the page, she stopped when she finally found the place she was looking for. “we turned in hamburg, right?” they looked at each other briefly before focusing back on what they were doing beforehand. “yeah, we did.” sakura gripped the atlas tighter, her patience slowly wearing thin. “there’s twenty miles of corn until gatlin.”

she threw the atlas in the back, huffing as changmin’s eyes started leaving the road, outlining the curves of her body. “changmin, look out!” sakura screamed out in bloody murder, covering her eyes. he wasn’t fast enough, turning his attention back to the road after he hit whatever was thrown in front of the car, slamming on the brakes. “i hope that was a do-“ the poor boy didn’t finish his thought as sakura opened the door, leaned out and started throwing up the breakfast she had back past hamburg.

feeling brave, sakura got out of the car and saw the dead boy in the middle of the road, screaming again as she fell onto the road, shaking. “changmin, it was a boy! a little boy! he ran out from the corn!” changmin just sat there in the chevelle, unable to do anything while sakura kept screaming and crying.

a few minutes had passed and he turned the ignition off, getting out of the car. changmin looked at the boy who laid a few feet in front of him then down at sakura, who was softly crying now before looking around his surroundings. he found where the boy had ran off, heading towards that direction. she watched him, slowly getting up from where she sat, screaming, “shim changmin! don’t you dare leave me here all alone with no means to protect myself!”

all she could hear was the corn as the wind rustled through it. it made her shiver. sakura watched when changmin came back with a suitcase he found in the corn, setting it on the road next to them. “i guess it had belonged to the poor kid. looks no more than thirteen at the very least,” he thumbed at the kid, looking down at the girl. she shrugged, rolling her eyes, “you know how those crazy christians are, saying the number’s unlucky.”

she grabbed the suitcase off from the road, cringing at the sight of blood and quickly threw it in the back, not realizing he went to check on the boy. changmin bent down and slowly turned him over, examining him. his face was dirty and his throat had been cut. he was already dead by the time he was hit. he got up and walked towards the car, fishing for the car keys from his pockets.

“get the blanket from the backseat,” he demanded, looking at her as he pushed the key into the trunk’s lock and unlocking it, grabbing the rifle. sakura just looked at him, her lips slightly parted, “why?” she watched his jaw tense up. “goddamn it sakura, just do what i asked.” she leaned into the car and grabbed the blanket, handing it to him as he handed her the rifle. “someone cut his throat. that someone might be watching us.”

sakura looked around in the corn with wide eyes, holding the rifle close while changmin went back to the boy, spreading the blanket on the road and rolled him onto it. flipping the sides of the blanket over him, he picked him and carried him back to the car, putting him in the trunk and slamming it closed. “i don’t think we need a dead body in our trunk.” “they might wanna see it, sakura. it’s someone’s child for crying out loud.”

she rolled her eyes at him, putting the rifle in the back and getting in the passenger seat. “we should probably start heading towards the next town. what was it again?” he asked when he got back in the car, looking at her. “uh.. gatlin, we should at least be there in ten.” she wiped her hands on her summer dress. “did it look big enough?” “it was just a dot, kinda like one of them quaint little southern towns.”

changmin nodded, starting the car up as his heart beat fast. he felt like he was being watched. were they being watched? he couldn’t ask sakura, in fear she would have a mental breakdown. as fast as he could, he drove the chevelle as far as possible. for the next five minutes, they drove in silence. “hey, do you mind opening the suitcase?”

sakura shrugged, reaching behind her to grab it. “i really doubt there’s anything but clothes in there.” “it’s worth a shot.” as she tried to open the suitcase, changmin fiddled with the radio, only to be greeted with white noise. he kept play- “ATONEMENT!” the young voice yelled as sakura screamed, jumping in her seat while changmin raced to turn it down. “ONLY BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB ARE WE SAFE!”

looking over at changmin, sakura had her hand over her heart, breathing fast as her heart was beating fast. the radio tower must be close, really close.

“atonement is the word my brothers and sisters,” in the background, a few amens were spoken. “there’s some that think that it’s okay to get out in the world, as if you could work and walk in the world without being smirched by the world. now is that what the word of god teaches us?” and as loud as daylight, “NO!”

“HOLY JESUS!” sakura could only imagine the young girl preaching had her hands above her head. “when they gonna know that way is death? when they gonna know that the wages of the world are paid in the other side? huh? HUH?” she screamed the last huh out. “the lord has said that there’s many mansions in her house. but there’s no room for the fornicator. no room for the coveter. no room for the defiller of the corn. no room for the homo-“

sakura turned the radio off, disgusted, “she made me sick to my stomach. ‘no room for the homosexual’? they must belong to the catholics or something.” she shook her head, trying to open the suitcase again. “what did she about the corn? a-and her house? oh god, the other christians are gonna have a field day when they find this girl.”

she finally got it opened, looking around, seeing nothing but clothes. “oh, i don’t know about the corn. maybe they’re going insane because they’re surrounded in it,” she laughed, picking up an upside down crucifix that was made with corn. looking at it, sakura screamed and threw it back into the suitcase. changmin slammed on the brakes, looking down at the handmade crucifix.

“why is it upside down? ain’t that like satanic?” he reached to grab it but she slammed the suitcase shut, throwing it in the back behind them. sakura ran her fingers through her hair, sighing heavily. “no, it’s still a christian thing. saint peter didn’t want to be crucified the same way jesus christ did because he felt unworthy of so. now for some reason, christians think it’s satanic or something, i don’t know, it’s weird.”

changmin didn’t reply back, putting his foot back on the gas. the ride was quiet until she started giggling. “what’s so funny sakura?” she shook her head, “ it’s literal bible-land over here.” sign after sign, nothing but a verse. “all old testament too.” they passed a sign, making sakura giggle again. “a cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night,” sakura puffed her chest out, lowering her voice in a sarcastic tone. “exodus 13:21.”

all of the sudden, she started laughing, “i hadn’t heard that in years.” they passed a sign, reading; YOU ARE NOW ENTERING GATLIN! THE NICEST LITTLE TOWN IN NEBRASKA— OR ANYWHERE ELSE! POP. 5013.

sakura felt like something was wrong as they continued to roll into town, passing by all the abandoned buildings. “stop, please,” she looked at him, feeling her heart race again. changmin did as he was told, sighing. “what sakura?” “let’s just turn around. let’s take the boy back to grand island or something. somewhere far away from here.” he looked at her, grabbing her hands. “what’s wrong?”

“what’s wrong?” she repeated, her voice rising. “what’s wrong? this town is empty! there’s nobody here but us!” she screamed, raising her hands above her head, probably looking just as delusional as the young preacher. changmin looked at her, “but i’m sure there’s people down at the square having a ba-“

sakura leaned in close to him, cutting him off, “there is no one here. do you not hear how quiet it is? did you not even see the fucking price for gas? thirty-five-nine just for regular. when was the last time we even paid for gas with those prices?” her jaw was tense. his lips were parted, stuttering. the girl could be scary sometimes. “uh.. at least four years?”

“then let’s turn around changmin.” “sakura, grand island is seventy ducking miles away. it’s gonna look pretty damn funny if we take the boy back there.” “does it look like i care?” she leaned away, crossing her arms over her chest. changmin started driving again, towards the center of town. “changmin, can we please go to grand island?” “we have a mother’s dead son in our trunk and the least we can do is help him get justice,” he yelled at her, hitting the steering wheel.

a few minutes later, changmin stopped the car next to the gatlin bar and grill. “it says it’s open,” he shrugged, turning the ignition off before hopping out of the chevelle, walking towards the building. sakura followed behind him, making sure she slammed the door too. “yeah, you really think someone’s in there, huh?” she asked. he turned and glanced down at her, nodding slightly. “but do you hear it though?” “hear what?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “hear the nothing that this town has?”

but as if it was on queue, the joyous laughter of kids could be heard. putting his hand up to his ear, changmin slightly grinned, “oh i don’t know about you, but i can hear some kiddos.” he turned back around to face the building and opened the door, entering the hellhole of dust and heat, sakura entering behind him. “hello sir, could i get a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake?” she asked in a high-pitched voice, making changmin roll his eyes as he traveled to the menu behind the counter. the items were relatively cheap.

“would you look at that, they’ve had this bean supper for twelve years now. you’d think they’d get tired of it,” sakura looked at the calendar tacked on the wall, now a sarcastic tone in her voice. august 1964. changmin headed towards the door with sakura hot on his tracks. “where are you going?” “to the municipal center.” she clenched her fists, yelling, “oh shim changmin, can’t you stop being so stubborn? you know there’s something wrong here so why can’t you just admit it?” “i’m not being stubborn sakura!”

sakura stuck her tongue at him, getting into the car. he got in behind her, turned the car on and drove up slowly to the church before pulling over. “what are you doing now?” she looked at the church then him. “i’m gonna go take a look, i’ll only be a minute,” changmin looked at the sermon board, turning the ignition off. “it’s the only thing that looks decent around here and plus, that was last sunday.” THE POWER AND GRACE OF SHE WHO WALKS BEHIND THE ROWS. July 24, 1976.

“she who walks behind the rows, huh? one of the million names for god, i guess. you coming or not?” he looked at her. “no. i don’t wanna be here. i’m scared shitless changmin. can we please just go?” “listen, i’ll only be a min-“ grabbing him by the shoulders, sakura shook him violently, screaming, “please changmin! i’m scared!” tears streamed down her face as. changmin could only sigh, grabbing the rifle from the back. “at least come with me then?”

she nodded, opening her door as he opened the glove compartment, grabbing the pistol and handed it to her. “you’d really think i’d leave you empty handed?” getting out, sakura took the pistol from him and closed the door. changmin got out as well, looking at the girl, “you ready?” “no, but i’d rather be with you than alone.”

walking up towards the door of the church, the kids from earlier watched from the other side of the road, hiding. sakura could feel like she was being watched, turning around slightly as changmin opened the door, the door creaking. “changmin, i think we’re being watched,” she whined. they walked into the church, looking around. “what makes you say that?” “i could feel eyes on my back. a whole bunch of them too. reminded me of a spider.” they continued to walk in before stopping behind the pews.

behind the pulpit was a large portrait of what it seemed to be a female version of christ, but crucified on the cross upside down, nude with corn gauged in her eyes. changmin subconsciously got closer, his head cocked to the side with his lips slightly parted. “she looks like you~” he cooed, chuckling. sakura huffed, rolling her eyes, “yeah, very funny.” she had to admit, the more she looked at it, the more it did look like her.

“if it does look like me, it’s pretty coincidental, that’s for sure,” sakura shrugged. “i was joking around sakura. do you really think that thing looks like you?” she opened her lips, but closed them. from where changmin stood, he could see a pipe organ with the keys ripped out and corn replaced. above, there was a sign, MAKE NO MUSIC EXCEPT WITH HUMAN TONGUE SAITH THE LORD GOD.

“hey sakura, what’s that from?” changmin pointed at the sign above the corn organ. she walked over to it, reading over it carefully, “um.. 1 corinthians, i believe at least.” he only nodded, walking over to the pulpit and reading the bible that laid on top of it in a deep, southern accent, “then, the lord answered job out of the whirlwind and said, who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge? … where wast thou when i laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.”

sakura laughed at him, smiling, “you do a better southern accent than i do and i lived in the south most of my life.” changmin shrugged, flipping the pages around, noticing a section had been torn out. the new testament. “seems like these guys don’t like the new testament,” he glanced at her, earning only a hum. another book caught his attention and he pulled it out from the lower shelf of the pulpit, slowly running his fingers over the words, THUS LET THE INIQUITOUS BE CUT DOWN SO THAT THE GROUND MAY BE FERTILE AGAIN SAITH THE LORD GOD OF HOSTS.

changmin opened the book, the sheets all lined and wide. it was quite obvious a child had wrote it, the letters were large and childishly made. the first column states:

amos deigan (richard), b. sept. 4, 1945     sept. 4, 1964

isaac renfrew (william), b. sept. 19, 1945   sept. 19, 1964

zepeniah kirk (george), b. oct. 14, 1945    oct. 14, 1964

mary wells (roberta), b. nov. 12, 1945       nov. 12, 1964

yemen hollis (edward), b. jan. 5, 1946       jan. 5, 1965

changmin shivered as he continued to read the book, shaking his head. “let me tell you something, sakura,” he started while she sat down on one of the pews, nodding slightly. “it’s about this amos guy. he and his friends got their religion and killed off their parents. every single damn one of them,” he paused, sighing, “but why the corn though? maybe it was dying. maybe they somehow got the idea that the corn was dying because there was too much sinning. not enough sacrifice for her. they would’ve done it in the corn, the rows.”

sakura could only look at him with a blank expression. “maybe they decided that nineteen was as old as any of them could live, maybe it’s for oblation,” he continued on. she hummed, pressing her lips together. “changmin, i think you’ve put a little too much thought into this.” sakura got up from her spot on the pews, stretching, “but i think it’s time we should start heading out now, we’ve been in here long enough.” changmin nodded, walking towards her.

they walked towards the front of the church when the sounds of children interrupted them, sakura dropping down and crawling in front of a broken window. changmin followed her, watching some kids beat on the chevelle. “those little fuckers!” he whispered, cocking the rifle and raising it to the open hole but sakura stopped him. “don’t do something you might regret.” he lowered the rifle, nodding. “what should we do though?”

sakura got up and walked out of the church, startling the kids. she gave them a sweet smile, her voice dripping with honey, “what are you little munchkins doing?” one of the kids knelt down and the others followed, yelling, “she who walks behind the rows! thank you for blessing us!” changmin walked out of the church in disbelief, watching a girl walk up towards them. “ah! she who walks behind the rows! it’s so good to finally see you in the flesh!”

sakura recognized her voice, it was the young preacher on the radio. she smiled at her too as changmin yelled out, “what’s your name?” the young girl giggled, “my name is isabella, and i presume your name is changmin, right?” he choked on his saliva, nodding. “well, now that she who walks behind the rows has finally visited us, how about we celebrate?”

the kids got up from their position on the ground and got near sakura, getting ready to pick her up before changmin stopped them, “what do you think you’re doing? get away from her!” isabella got in front of sakura, grabbing the pistol from her hand. “we’re going to celebrate the arrival of her.” sakura looked at changmin, trying to tell him she’s got this all under control before she got picked up, getting carried away.

changmin followed, feeling the temperature get colder as they made their way into the corn, sakura still high in the air. she could see a clear opening in a distance, probably where the kids do their rituals. before she knew it, she was seated on a chair and a handmade crown of corn was put on her head. she looked around, some kids sat around patiently as others got fires started. changmin stood next to her, whispering, “what are you doing?” she looked at him and smiled, “you’ll see.”

he nodded, feeling small hands push him away. changmin sat on the grass not to far away from sakura, his heart racing, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. isabella came forward, the fire cracking around them. “today, she who walks behind the rows has visited us. we have been waiting for this day! but do we deserve her presence?”

the kids sat there, quiet. did they really deserve sakura’s presence? “the answer is no,” isabella went on, “we never have deserved her presence! we failed her!” she looked at sakura before kneeling in front of her, bowing her head, “she who walks behind the rows, what would you like for us to do?”

sakura looked at isabella, then changmin then the rest of the kids, “if you want to make me happy, sacrifice yourself to me.” changmin’s mouth dropped as isabella stood up, yelling, “you heard her! sacrifice yourselves!” sakura watched the kids get up in a frenzy, finding ways to do just that. isabella stuck the pistol she took from sakura in her mouth and pulled the trigger. changmin tried to fight some kids from using his rifle.

sakura continued to sit there, watching the chaos unravel as kids hurt themselves one after another. changmin got up and grabbed her hand, dragging her with him as they ran out of the corn, hearing the last gunshot linger in the air. they continued to run, the corn crown now far behind them. she fell down back in the town square, exhausted from running. “i’m sorry sakura, i should’ve listened to you.”

she laid there, listening to changmin just ramble on, saying how he was wrong and she was right. “changmin!” sakura yelled out, startling him, “it’s okay.” changmin bent down and helped her stand up, kissing her head softly. “we should start heading on now. i don’t wanna be here anymore,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “yeah, let’s do that.” they started walking the direction they came from, leaving the nicest little town in nebraska, or anywhere else.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

No Exit- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,006

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual,

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

The faster you figure out and deal with this demon shit, the fast you will be happy. You had no idea when you were going to kill him or even how, since the Colt is gone and you have no way of tracking it down.

You were running out of options and you didn’t know what to do anymore. Your mom was gone and John was gone. You haven’t spoken to your dad in weeks and you were beginning to think that there wasn’t going to be an end to any of this.

There were nights where you caught yourself thinking that you shouldn’t even be alive since that is what the demon wanted. You weren’t supposed to have this power. You didn’t even know how you got it in the first place. You didn’t have any kind of answer and you wished that you knew someone who did.

Working with the Harvelle’s was a huge help since Ash seemed to know a lot more than you do and have been very helpful these last couple of days. They offered you a place to stay and you’ve been more than grateful. You helped around the bar, always doing little chores to make this easier on Ellen and Jo.

Sam, of course, helped too but Dean would just use their alcohol. There wasn’t a major problem with this but he was reluctant to have them on board with this whole demon thing. It wasn’t their family that he was targeting. But you could use all the help you could get.

“We should go to Los Angeles.” Dean said as he pulled up to the Roadhouse.

“Why? What’s there?” You asked, getting out of the car. It was the beginning of November which meant cold days and even colder nights. Growing up in Kansas made you used to the cold weather so 50 degrees was nothing to you. It even got to 28 degrees in the night.

“I may or may not have found a case.” Dean said, getting out with his brother.

“Yeah? You got a name?” Sam asked, wondering when Dean found the time to search for case.

“Katie Holmes.” Dean smirked. You rolled your eyes and scoffed. You weren’t jealous at all but of course Dean would think she was hot. Katie Holmes was no Ruby Rose, that’s for sure.

“So, in other words, he found nothing.” You teased, smirking at Dean.

“Hey, not my fault she exists.” Dean shrugged.

“Sure, say things like that in front of your girlfriend. That will get you laid.” You said, crossing your arms.

“Eh, you’ll do for now.” Dean shrugged, teasing you. You narrowed your eyes playfully and was about to come up with a witty comeback when you heard yelling and screaming come from inside the roadhouse. You looked at the boys before walking inside and looking up to see Jo and her mother on the second floor of the bar, yelling at each other.

“I am your mother! I don't have to be reasonable!”

“You can’t keep me here!” Jo yelled back.

“I wouldn’t bet on it, sweetie.” Ellen said in a cold voice. You had no idea what they were yelling about but you knew it wasn’t good. For the time, you were staying here, Jo and her mother have been short with each other lately and you could only guess what this was about.

“What are you going to do? Are you going to chain me up in the basement?” Jo challenged her mother.

“You know what? You’ve had worse ideas. If you want to leave so badly, then you’re more than welcome to go back to school!”

“I didn’t belong there. I was the freak that had a knife collection, mom.” Jo complained.

“And getting killed on a back road is where you belong?” Ellen scoffed. She turned and spotted you before you had a chance to hide. “Bad time, guys.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Sam said immediately, nodding.

“No, Ellen, what were you fighting about?” You asked, walking further into the bar.

“Y/N, I don’t think you should be butting into this.” Sam said, ready to get the hell out of there.

“Y/N, sweetie, I appreciate you wanting to help but no thanks.” Ellen said, walking down the stairs with Jo fresh on her tail.

“No, mom, I want her opinion. She seems to understand how I’m feeling since no one else does.” Jo said, walking over to you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, looking at Jo.

“Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment. She wasn’t the first one either. Apparently, 6 women disappeared over the course of 80 years. Now, the cops didn’t put two and two together because they happen only every few decades. Now, I concluded that we’re either dealing with a very old serial killer or a spirt.” Jo explained, handing you a manila envelope with all the information about the case.

“Who put this together? Ash?” Dean asked, looking at Jo before at Ellen.

“No, I did it myself.” Jo said, crossing her arms.

“Really? Good for you, Jo. That’s awesome.” You smiled at her, impressed. She was younger than you but that didn’t matter. Age didn’t matter when you were a hunter. It was about how skilled you were and from what you’ve seen, she was skilled.

“Thanks, Y/N.” She smiled, relaxing a bit.

“Don’t encourage her, Y/N. Dean, Sam, if you’re interested in this case then it’s yours.” Ellen said, crossing her arms.

“Mom!” Jo yelled, glaring at her mother.

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you too. I just won't.” Ellen said, ending the conversation. Jo looked like she was ready to cry or attack. You handed Dean the manila folder and looked at Sam.

“Get the car ready. We’ll check it out.” Dean nodded and took the folder, walking out of the bar.

“Y/N…” Jo said, a bit hurt you would do this.

“Hey. You’re a hunter okay? I don’t care how old you are. Hell, I was a hunter at 8 years old. We’ll leave and meet us there. I’m sure you can do that, okay?” You whispered to her so that her mother wouldn’t hear you. It wasn’t fair to Jo that she was being treated like this. She smiled and nodded, happy for the time being.

You smiled back at her and left her alone to figure out how she was going to get out the Roadhouse.

It took nearly a day to make the drive from Nebraska all the way to Philadelphia. That should have given Jo more than enough time to figure out a plan to get to where you were going.  

We’re here. We’re inside. I didn’t see the landlord so if you do, think of something quick.

That was your last text to Jo and you haven’t heard from her since. That was about a couple of hours ago but you weren’t too worried. She was a smart girl.

“I feel kind of bad for staling Jo’s case.” Sam said when he entered the apartment. You looked around and nothing didn’t particularly stand out to you. But looks can be deceiving.

“Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so.” Dean said, pulling out his EMF meter.

“Wait, Dean, you don’t think she’s capable?” You asked, walking in front of him and placing a hand on his chest. You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say something else. Dean sighed and looked at his brother for help but Sam left Dean to fend for himself.

“That’s not what I meant.” Dean said, looking back at you.

“Just because you don’t know her doesn’t mean you don’t know what she’s capable of.” You defended your first real friend.

“Oh, and you do?” Dean asked, stepping closer to you.

“Guys, stop it and check this out.” You stared at Dean for a moment longer before walking past him and to his brother.

“What is that?” You asked, seeing him touch some black goo that was oozing from the light switch.

“Holy crap.” Sam muttered. You reached out and touched the substance, examining it yourself.

“Wait, this is ectoplasm.” You said, looking at Sam before looking at Dean.

“Oh, I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Dean said, catching Sam’s and your attention. “It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man.”

“Dean, can you stop acting like a child for once?” You said, scoffing and rolling your eyes. You didn’t miss the look he gave you but decided to ignore it for the time being.

“Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.” Sam informed.

“Alright, let’s find this badass before he takes anyone else.” Dean said, putting his EMF away.

“He goes for dirty blondes, right?” You asked, following behind the boys.

“What? If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it’s out of the question.” Dean said, not even looking back.

“Oh and what, you’re my dad who can tell me what to do?” You said, fed up with how Dean was behaving.

“Guys, seriously, stop.” Sam said, turning a corner.

“I’m just saying. I may have dyed hair but a blonde is a blonde.” You said, stopping when you heard voices. Sam and Dean immediately hid but you knew who that was.

“Y/N, sweetheart, hide.” Dean tried grabbing for you but you moved away from him. You smiled when you saw the familiar mop of blonde hair.

“It is so spacious. You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place.” Jo said, locking eyes with you.

“Jo! It’s so good to see you!” You smiled widely and walked over to her and the landlord.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean said, stepping into view with Sam.

“This is my best friend, Y/N and her boyfriend Dean with his brother Sam. Y/N was that friend I was telling you about. I just think it’s time to move out with your best friend, right?” Jo said to the landlord and he nodded.

“Of course.” He said with a nod.

“So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent?” Jo asked you with a smile.

“Yeah, we loved it.” You smiled right back at her. You were glad she was here with you.

“How did you guys get in?” The landlord asked and that is when Sam and Dean decided to step up.

“It was open.” Dean said, narrowing his eyes at you. You looked at him straight in the eyes and raised one of your eyebrows, daring him to say something to you. Ever since you let in Ellen and Jo into your lives and decided to let them help with this demon thing, Dean’s been acting like an ass. Like he owned all of you, controlling your every move.

You knew he didn’t like Jo hunting but fuck him if you were going to keep her from this. She was only 21 years old but you knew she knew what she was doing.

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Jo asked the landlord.

“Oh, about a month ago. It was unexpectedly, honestly. She left me with the rent.” Ed complained a bit.

“Well, her loss, our gain,” She put an arm around your shoulders and smiled at you. “If she loves it, it’s good enough for me.”

“Great.” Dean nodded, scoffing. Sam was being smart, keeping quiet.

“We’ll take it.” Jo pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to Ed who took it happily, tucking it into his pocket.

“I’ll get the paperwork. Just make yourself at home.” Ed smiled, walking away from the group. You turned to Dean who was seething. Oh, this was going to be interesting.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog@inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing@supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876@wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja@deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi@tahbehonest @stay-in–place @dreaminofdean @posiemax@donnaintx

Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest @carribear31 @tacklesackles @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @missselinakitty

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight @valerieshubin 

[crispychrissy]

Shrink - Chapter 8

Summary: When patients of a psychiatrist that caters exclusively to hunters start going crazy and dying, Sam and Dean Winchester investigate what might be causing these bizarre episodes. Pairing: None yet Word Count: 1857 Warnings: Sam getting undressed...does that count? A/N: My first fanfic! This is going to be a series, probably over 30 chapters total. Any feedback is appreciated, I am a newbie!

“Almost done?” Dean asked, currently laying on his bed in the motel room with his eyes shut. “Yeah, I’m on the last two cases.” Sam said, rapidly blinking to stop the burning sensation in his eyes that has plagued him for the last half an hour. “And…?” Dean asked as he sat up in his bed. “Only found one more besides Alicia’s that might be a possible match. It’s a stretch, but I’m putting it aside for now. I’ll call the Sidney police department in the morning and ask them more details.” Sam said, his voice trailing off as he was speaking, distracted with the case he was reviewing. “Australia?” Dean asked, standing up from his bed and stretching. “Nebraska. I think Australia is a bit outside our jurisdiction.” Sam said as he clicked away on his laptop. “Almost done.” Dean looked over at the clock on the wall above the TV. “It’s almost one AM, dude. Hurry up. I’m bored.” Ignoring Dean’s protesting, Sam hit the arrow key on his laptop a few more times before sitting back in his chair and letting out a heavy sigh. “Alright. I found three total, two confirmed as related to Adrian’s. One I’m not sure.” “Cool. Tell me later. Let’s go.” Dean said, his hand already on the door to their motel room, ready to leave. “You’re going to break into his room in your Fed suit?” Sam said with raised eyebrows, staring at Dean. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Dean turned around, walked over to his bed, ruffled through his bag, pulled out a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, and shuffled into the bathroom. “And you say I’m the bossy one.” Dean said before he slammed the bathroom door.

Sam smiled and shut his laptop before standing up. He reached up and stretched his arms above his head, pressing his palms flat against the ceiling. He started undoing the buttons on his dress shirt while he kicked his shoes off. Walking over to the bag sitting on his bed, Sam pulled his own flannel shirt and jeans out and set them on the right side of the bag. After completely unbuttoning his shirt, he slid it off and laid it gently on the bed on left side of his bag before unrolling the flannel shirt and putting it on. Rolling clothes tight enough so they don’t wrinkle while on the road is an art form that both Sam and Dean were proud to have mastered. He pulled on the white shirt he was wearing under his dress shirt to untuck it from his pants before he started undoing his belt and button on his pants. Pulling his belt off and setting it on the bed, he undid his zipper, dropped his pants and, in one swift motion, kicked his leg up that he still had in his pant leg and caught his pants in mid-air. Mentally high-fiving himself, he set his pants on top of his dress shirt on his bed and unrolled his jeans before putting them on. Right as he finished zipping and buttoning his zipper and started to put his belt on, Dean emerged from the bathroom. Sam turned around and looked at Dean. They were both wearing the same pattern and color flannel shirt. “Twinsies?” Sam said, smiling as he finished buckling his belt. “I didn’t know they made this shirt in ‘freakishly large’ size.” Dean said as he threw his heap of clothes on his bed. “I didn’t know you still don’t realize you’re not funny.” Sam said smiling while slipping his normal suede shoes on. Dean mockingly mumbled back at him as he walked over to the door. “Come on. We’re losing daylight…er….night…light…I guess.” He said as he opened the door to their motel room. Still buttoning his flannel shirt, Sam stood up and followed Dean as he walked through the door out to the walkway of the motel room, stopping momentarily to grab his lock pick set from the pocket of his suit jacket. The temperature had dropped considerably since earlier in the evening, and the strong wind was not helping, either. Dean looked around for people or cars in the area while Sam sprinted over to the office and peered through the window. Seeing nobody in the office and seeing nobody around outside, Sam and Dean rendezvoused at the door to room two. Dean looked around and kept watch as Sam slid his lock pick into the lock and started to move the tumblers around. After about fifteen seconds, the lock clicked and turned, opening the door. Sam pulled his pick out of the lock and slipped inside the room, Dean following closely behind him before shutting the door once they were both inside. Adrian’s room looked exactly like the one Dean and Sam had, save for empty liquor bottles, dirty clothes, and empty take-out containers scattered all over the room. Dean walked over to the bed and grabbed the remote. Clicking the power button, he sat down on the edge of the king bed, having to steady himself as he sank down and backwards. Dean looked back up at the TV and smiled when he saw the opening credits of Casa Erotica 11 playing on the screen. “Hey Sam, check it out.” Dean said, pointing at the TV, still smiling. “It’s not 14, but still a good one.” Sam sighed. “Dude. Shut it off. We’re not here to watch porn.” “But Adrian was, apparently.” Dean said, clicking the TV off and throwing the remote on the bed behind him. Over the next hour, Dean and Sam searched every inch of Adrian’s room. Wading through the garbage and dirty clothes, they found no signs that Adrian was on a hunt. No newspaper clippings, police reports, nor weapons of any kind. Sam sat down at the table in Adrian’s room and let out a heavy sigh. Dean came over and sat across from him, also letting out a heavy sigh. “So, he wasn’t on a hunt?” Sam said with a raised eyebrow. “I guess not.” Dean said, scratching at his beard. He looked around Adrian’s room again once more before his eyes froze on a small flat white object that was under the TV. “What’s that?” He said as he got up and walked over to the dresser the TV was sitting on. “What’s what?” Sam said, watching Dean grab the TV and begin to pick it up. Lifting the TV and moving it a few feet to the right, Dean picked up the small piece of paper that was under it and read. “It’s a business card. Dr. Ellen Barnes in Tulsa, Oklahoma.” Dean said, reading off the card. “Specializes in psychiatry and counseling, according to this.” “Well, Adrian was coming from Tulsa. You think he was seeing the psychiatrist?” Sam said as he stood up. “I mean, it could just be a coincidence. Who knows how long that card has been under the TV? Doesn’t really strike me as the type of motel that thoroughly cleans each room between guests.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement with Sam as he flipped the business card over. He raised his eyebrows and looked up at Sam. “Oh, I think he definitely was seeing this doc.” Sam looked back with a confused look on his face. “How do you know for sure?” Dean held up the business card to Sam before turning it over to show him the reverse. The back of the business card had a standard pentagram devil’s trap on it, printed in red ink. “Oh…yeah. I think that might be something worth looking into.” Sam said, taking the business card from Dean so he could study it himself. Running his finger along the design Sam let out an inquisitive noise and looked up. “You have your flashlight on you?” He asked as he tilted the card back and forth in his hands. Dean reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his small flashlight, and handed it to Sam, who immediately clicked it on. “Check this out.” Sam said, holding the flashlight sideways along the business card. As Sam passed the flashlight over the edge of the card, dozens of small flecks of a metallic material reflected light and sparkled. “Is that…” Dean began to ask. “Silver. Yeah.” Sam said as he clicked the flashlight off. “I think so.” “Who the hell is this doctor?” Dean said as he took the business card back from Sam and scratched at the silver flecks. “No idea, but we’re going to find out tomorrow.” Sam said before he began to move toward the door. Slowly opening the door, he peeked his head out to make sure there was still nobody in the area. Seeing nobody around like earlier, he opened the door and walked out, motioning for Dean to follow him. Taking a moment to make sure the door didn’t slam, Dean followed after Sam back down the walkway to their motel room. Once both brothers were back inside their motel room, Sam immediately sat down at the table and flipped open his laptop. “I’m going to Google her real quick, see if there’s any more info we can find.” He said as his laptop whirred to life. “She has a devils trap on the back of her business card and flecks of silver in the card stock. She has to be a hunter.” Sam typed her name into Google and pulled up several articles about Ellen’s husband’s murder in addition to a few articles about awards and achievements she had received during her time in private practice. “Well, she lost her husband in a home invasion years back.” Sam read off his screen. “Looks like she was in a nice private practice and vanished after his death. She popped up about a year later in her own office, but I can’t find any information about where it’s located on any of these articles.” Sam said as he sat back in his chair. “We’ll have to call the number on the card tomorrow for directions.” He paused a moment. “Dean?” Sam looked to his right to see why Dean wasn’t participating in the conversation. Dean was already face down on his bed, still clothed, fast asleep. Sam smiled and shook his head before raising his arms up and stretching as he got up. He could feel his eyes watering as he yawned before he started moving toward his bed. Pushing his bag off the bed, he followed Dean’s move and also flopped down face first, burying his face in the pillow. Sam let out a heavy sigh before shifting slightly and reaching into his pocket to remove his phone. He turned to his left to look at the phone before tapping the screen a few times, making sure his alarm was set for 6:45am. He slid the phone onto the nightstand between the two beds and locked the screen; pausing momentarily to check the time - 2:32am. Sam buried his face back into his pillow and drifted to sleep, his mind still pondering the mysteries surrounding Dr. Ellen Barnes.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

BUT SAM ALTMAN CAN'T BE STOPPED BY SUCH FLIMSY RULES

Even a day's delay can bring news that causes an investor to commit, ask them to introduce you to other investors they respect. The Refragmentation, that was what had happened to the application after I left. What I mean is, if you're starting a technology startup, but the companies on either side, like Carnegie's steelworks, which made the rails, and Standard Oil, which used railroads to get oil to the East Coast after Yahoo. The language has a small core of well understood and highly orthogonal operators, but dirty in the sense of hitting some big need straight on. It would seem a misnomer if someone said they were very determined to do something internally, like talk to their partners, or investigate some issue? You may save him from referring to variables in another package, but you have less control over the rate at which good ideas win would be a waste of time, and part of the language is intuitive enough that you can find plenty that are cheap or even untaken. They had to, or we may have made a mistake in thinking that hackers are turned off by Lisp's strangeness.1 But Sam Altman can't be stopped by such flimsy rules. I know from my own experience that the rule against buying stock from founders is a stupid one, this is exactly what I want in some macros.

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can without endangering runtime systems like the garbage collector.2 Eventually everyone will learn by word of mouth that you're the best, but how do you make a language that hackers will like?3 They do a really good job of solving slightly the wrong problem. Nearly all your attachment to it comes from it being attached to you. Starting in January 2000, Yahoo's stock price began to crash, ultimately losing 95% of its value. And it must have powerful libraries for doing what hackers want to do now.4 Their investors agree.5 It was not so much because in spending their money they create jobs, but because progress in technology has made it much easier to start a startup.

Does that make written language worse? You don't need to write books to make money for a year using only the resources available to the average Frankish nobleman in 800, and report back to us. Going public early will not be about whether to make your language strongly or weakly typed, or object oriented, or functional, or whatever, but about how to save it. What if they'd been in Nebraska, like Evan Williams was at their age?6 But there are lots of surprises for individual startups too, and they were actually a lot happier now that they didn't have to make it good for writing throwaway programs, because that's the last time Lisp had a sufficiently large and demanding user base. In the startup world, closing is not what will make you successful. They say that they loved Java. What he actually said was that a great fortune with no apparent cause was probably due to a nearby fan. You just have to treat such leaks as a cost of doing business. It will be worth making i/o-bound.

And it must have powerful libraries for doing what hackers want to do.7 The project either gets bogged down, or the result is sterile and wooden: a shopping mall rather than a real downtown, Brasilia rather than Rome, Ada rather than C. Then there was a widespread feeling among potential founders. The result is bronze, which is so much work to be done. The language is built in layers. Indeed, as with people in their early twenties generally, is that you lie to yourself. But if you're in the inexperienced but earnest majority, the solution is analogous to the solution I recommend for pitching your startup: do the right thing and then just tell investors what you're doing, you're now on a path labelled get rich or bust. There are a lot of smart, young people.8 Get introductions to investors.

The acceleration would have been too slow to perceive in one lifetime. It would be hard to convince galleries even to do that.9 If you use that test you might end up learning Ruby or Python instead. Inexperienced founders usually give competitors more credit than they deserve. At a test that excludes Steve Jobs, the founder I refer to most when I'm advising startups. What won't be obvious is that they're easy to find. That one is easy: don't hire too fast. Well, of course.10 I mean things that go wrong when kids grow up sufficiently poor.11

An advantage of consulting, as a way of telling you what to do in that case.12 Achievements also tend to increase it. For companies with mobile apps, especially, having the right domain name is not as selfish as it sounds, that's the real recipe. The other half, the younger half, will complain that this is the result of a deliberate policy.13 But often memory will be the money burning a hole in your pocket, but I watched it happen to Reddit. Would a basketball team trade one of their apartments at first, and since we're new to fundraising, we feel like we have to rely on.14 You want to be online. The truth is disappointing but interesting: if you're the right sort of hunches. Northern Italy in 1100, off still feudal.

Notes

They don't know.

If a company they'd pay a lot of investors. It did. I think is happening when you ad lib you end up. Once the playing field is leveler politically, we'll see economic inequality to turn Buffalo into a decent college.

This point is that if there were some good ideas in the sense of being absorbed by the PR firm.

I believe, and that modern corporate executives were, we could just use that instead. If your income tax rates don't tell the craziest lies about me. I swapped them to go the bathroom, and once a hypothesis starts to be careful here, the other side of being harsh to founders.

I don't know of no counterexamples, though, because it aggregates data from so many of which you are not all equal, and eventually markets learn how to do this yourself. They thought most programming would be very hard to say, of course it was true that being part of its identity.

In the Valley. For example, would not produce a viable organism. Com in order to make a living playing at weddings than by selling them overpriced components. Actually he's no better or worse than Japanese car companies, like selflessness, might come from meditating in an urban legend.

Eighteen months later Google paid 1. For example, will be inversely proportional to the average employee. Some VCs seem to them? These were the seven liberal arts.

If a prestigious VC makes a small company that could evolve into a pattern, as far as I know randomly generated DNA would not be able to redistribute wealth successfully, because universities are where a laptop would be better to overestimate than underestimate the importance of making a good deal for the first million is worth studying as a high product of some brilliant initial idea. Together these were the impressive ones.

This is the only significant channel was our own, like storytellers, must have affected what they built, they thought at least straightforwardly benevolent, doesn't help people on the basis of intelligence. Earlier he'd had in high school writing this.

Doing Business in 2006, http://doingbusiness. But scholars seem to have been peculiarly vulnerable—perhaps partly because users hate the idea that evolves into Facebook isn't merely a complicated but pointless collection of stuff to be writing with conviction.

But because I can't predict which lies future generations will consider inexcusable, I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about. And that is more like a core going critical. Build them a microcomputer, and configure domain names etc.

Download programs to run on the cover story of creation in the less educated parents seem closer to a company's revenues as the investment market becomes more efficient. I don't like to partners at their firm, the average major league baseball player's salary during the Ming Dynasty, when the audience gets too big for the manager of a more general rule: focus on the one hand and the ordering system, which shoppers used to retrieve orders, view statistics, and once a hypothesis starts to be hidden from statistics too.

Several people have for endless years of bank dependence, reinforced by the fact that, in that era had no idea what most people than subsequent millions.

European politics then had no natural immunity to messianic figures, just the location of the venture business. While the US is partly a reaction to drugs.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Garry Tan, Trevor Blackwell, Peter Norvig, Sam Altman, Jackie McDonough, and Dan Giffin for the lulz.

[jamesandanna12]

Miami (Florida) to Sturgis (South Dakota) - 27 July - 8 Aug 2017

God it was hot the morning we left Miami airport! By 8am the temperature was already above 30c - way too hot!

We decided to go north as quickly as possible in order to get away from the heat. This meant riding on the multi-lane interstate roads for a couple of days. We didn't like the idea but decided to try it anyway. 

It was a boring ride! Fast, and you couldn't see anything! All we saw was other vehicles! We stopped a few times for petrol and cold drinks.

I hate fast roads - no way to pull up on the side of the road and take a photo. Riding wasn't particularly enjoyable - too fast and monotonous. We started "zoning out" - that's the only way I can think of describing it... We weren't dozing off, we were very awake - we were simply switching off and not paying as much attention. And it was all because of the monotonous straight road with nothing to look at. 

We stopped several times to try to pull ourselves together. 

The heat was killing us! We kept going. I was never this bored on the bike! Interstate highways are not for us! 

We finally reached our hotel on the side of the interstate near Daytona Beach. We were exhausted from the heat and the riding itself. We parked up and went out to get something to eat. Our choices within walking distance were McDonald's, KFC, Burger King and another burger joint 😟 Not the places we enjoy... Anyway, we were hungry so went to McDonald's and ordered two grilled chicken salads. We're determined not to eat burgers and fries all the time!

We left early the following morning promising each other that it was to be the last day riding on interstates. We were going to Savannah in Georgia or shall I say, a motel near Savannah Georgia. It was to be another practical motel  on the side of the interstate. 

We were suffering as much as the previous day! Frequent stops helped but we were so bored it was unreal! I don't know how some people can drive solely on interstates! 

We got to our motel slightly amused by hundreds (literally!) of billboards for personal injury law firms! 

We felt better in the morning - no more interstates! Yay! 😁😁

We packed our bikes and set off towards a small town called Laurens in South Carolina. The temperature was better.

Oh the lovely small roads! We enjoyed the riding - it was quiet and green with plenty to look at.

The first sighting of a wild turkey 😉

We stopped for water and were entertained by a bunch of people drinking fizzy drinks from takeaway cups - the sizes were called Big Gulp, Super Big Gulp and Double Gulp! What's wrong with water these days? 😉

We got to our motel and whilst checking in, we couldn't understand the majority of what the lady in the reception was saying to us. The southern accent was sooo different! 😂

The room was very basic but clean but more importantly, it had a nice pool 😊

After a swim, we went for a walk. Laurens was a cute little place.

Nothing was happening in Laurens until we walked past a burger joint - lots of shiny classic cars. It was the place to hang out on a Saturday night!

We left in the morning and headed for Morristown, Tennessee - half way between Laurens and Lexington, Kentucky. James loves his horse racing and that part of the world and I've never been, so we decided to swing by 😊

We were definitely in the Bible Belt - hundreds of lovely churches with manicured graveyards and gardens. 

We were so happy to be off the interstates! The small roads were great! It was a shame that we were rushing through the Carolinas, Tennessee and Kentucky..... on our quest to reach Alaska before winter. Lots of historic old towns, civil war history, friendly people and lovely countryside - we hope to return! 

We eventually arrived in our motel and went for a little walk. It was the usual motel by the side of the freeway. It was a lovely afternoon. I liked our shadow - couldn't resist snapping a photo 😉

We left in the morning in beautiful sunshine. 

Riding was lovely and we happened upon a gorgeous viewpoint overlooking the Blue Ridge Mountains! 

We got talking to Richard - a lovely and interesting man!

All he wanted was a little kiss! 😉

And we caught it on the selfie stick! 😂

We chatted with Richard for over an hour. He was great fun! We know you're reading this Richard so a big hello from us 👋👋  And given that you like kisses, here's one: 😘

It was baking hot - we were overheating so we had to start moving. 

We didn't have that much mileage to do so we're making good progress until... We reached an awfully long queue! 

We crawled for a couple of hours but eventually got to our motel just outside Lexington, Kentucky. Again, it was on the side of the motorway but we didn't care - we were there to see a little bit of Kentucky horse country. We booked in for two nights and planned to spend the whole of the next day exploring.

We set off early as we wanted to spend a bit of time around Keeneland  - what a gorgeous place! 😍  Keeneland is the top thoroughbred racehorse sales complex in the world as well as being an important racetrack.  The surrounding area contains many of America's top stud farms.

James was so happy to be back in Keeneland! 

We spent a few hours riding and walking around Keeneland. Special place!

Afterwards, we decided to go to the Wild Turkey distillery, a famous Kentucky bourbon house. We like bourbon but sadly, as we were on the bikes, we couldn't sip the golden goodness 😢

We parked up and were taken on the bus to the distillery. Nobody walks in the US!

The views were great!

Our guide, Bubba, was a great laugh!

The tour was very interesting.

The distillery buildings were like ghost town!

But once inside... The smell was divine! 😁

Then the saddest part... Bourbon tasting! 😢😢

We couldn't drink ..... I did however take a small sip, moved it around in my mouth and spat it out - the bourbon was fantastic! We're looking forward to drinking some! 😀

Lovely place!

We rode back to our Lexington motel enjoying the cute little towns we passed. 

We managed to find salads for supper! Happy days! 

The following day we planned to ride to a little town called Olney in Illinois. We needed to keep going as Alaska wasn't getting any warmer... Having had no time constraints for months, it was quite strange to be rushing north.  

The riding was low-key and beautiful.

I loved this house - straight from some scary movie! 

Riding was great with lots to see. 

We eventually reached our motel - it was very cheap but extremely comfortable and the man running it, incredibly friendly. 

We could park right outside our room so bringing the luggage in didn't take long 😉

After a shower we went exploring. 

We walked past a lovely looking cafe but it was already closed for the day. We decided to go there for breakfast in the morning. 

The cafe was clearly a focal point in Olney - full of regulars. Coffee was fantastic!

We got talking to a very friendly couple who were traveling in their RV and this cafe was their usual stop. Then a very friendly truck driver started talking to us - we told him about our trip and before too long, we were talking to several people at the same time. It was lovely! Such friendly people!! We really enjoyed meeting Lucinda and Rob - a lovely couple from Olney. They told us something we didn't know - apparently Olney is famous for being the home of white albino squirrels. They told us which part of the park to go to in order to have a chance of seeing one. We've never seen one so said goodbye to everyone and decided to ride to the park. Before we left we were asked by the staff to write something in the visitor's book! As we were leaving the cafe, a friendly lady called Sarah approached us and since she didn't hear all of our travel story, she had a few questions 😉 She gave us some travel tips and suggestions. Sarah - it was great to meet. A big hello from us 👋👋

Our time in this cafe was just incredible. EVERYONE was so friendly and curious. It was very sweet! We rode away "buzzing" - what a treat to meet so many nice people. 

We got to the park but couldn't see any squirrels. 

And then we saw... Lucinda and Rob! They drove after us from the cafe to make sure we would see the squirrels! So sweet! We looked and looked but clearly the albino squirrels were on strike - they were nowhere to be found 😉

Instead we took a photo of the four of us. Lucinda and Rob - it was lovely to meet you both! 👋👋

We were having a fantastic morning! 😊

We decided to stop at one of Sarah's recommended places in the next town of Newton - the statue of Burl Ives, the famous country musician who hailed from there.

It was well past 1pm and we were still just outside Olney! 😂 We had to make some progress! 

The road was quiet and with plenty of daylight left, we were enjoying the ride.

We really liked the lovely countryside!

Then the heavens opened! Luckily we weren't terribly far from our motel in Macomb, Illinois.

The following morning there was no sign of rain so we set off in gorgeous sunshine. We were on our way to Des Moines, Iowa but first, we rode through the town of Fort Madison, Iowa. The streets were tidy and houses very pretty. This was the point (and long metal bridge) where we would cross the great Mississippi river.

We enjoyed our stop there and but after a while kept going. 

Unpacking in Des Moines didn't take long 😉

The following day we spent a whole day making our way to Norfolk, Nebraska. The roads were beautifully straight! Corn country!

We were starving by the time we got to our hotel so soon after checking in, we went next door, to a sports bar for a dirty burger on a Saturday night. 

In the morning, as we left our motel, James spotted a John Deere sales yard... We had to stop 😋 He was admiring all the machinery whilst I made fun of him. It seemed only fair 😉

It was very cold! We were frozen. 

It was a dark, cold day! We were a long way north now.  We stopped for petrol and went in for a cup of coffee. 

Coffee wasn't great but it warmed us up.

I liked the banner!

Back on the bikes ☺

We finally arrived in our destination - Kennebec, South Dakota - population 284, two motels, a church and one diner . 

Our motel was functional - clean and comfortable. 

It was great parking outside the room - saves us from carting heavy bags!

We went for a walk around the "town" - there was nothing there but it was nice to stretch the legs ☺.  Kennebec is really a series of huge grain silos alongside the railway tracks.  It's still corn country!

Sunset was gorgeous.

We went to the diner as it was the only place "in town" to get something to eat. It wasn't great. The only thing on the menu were burgers... And not very good ones 😕 Oh well, at least we weren't hungry anymore. 

The following morning we set off towards Sturgis. All week we'd been seeing Harley Davidson riders travelling towards Sturgis, the small town in South Dakota where 500,000 Harley riders congregate for a week each summer - i.e. the mother ship! 😉  We happened to be passing during that particular week. 

We thought the bikers would be friendly, like they would be pretty much anywhere in the world but no, the US so far is different. The Harley riders are quite unfriendly with an exception of a few  (Tony who we met twice on the road was great! We loved his funny stories! Big hello from us 👋👋)

It was very overcast for the first hour or so.  It was cold!!

The sun came out a little and made the scenery even more amazing - the colours were fantastic! 

The views were huge! And the straight roads fantastic! 

Our plan was to see our first National Park in the US - The Badlands. That was the real reason for taking this route - the bike rally in Sturgis was just a nice to see, since we were so close to it.

The clouds made the views so spectacular! We said "WOW" sooooooo many times!

Riding in the Park was incredible! Beautiful roads and scenery to die for!! 

We met three very friendly bikers - great guys!

It was so beautiful you could just stay there all day! 

I love this place!!! This is probably one of my favourite photos! 😊

Don't we look so happy?! 😁😁

Riding was sooo good! Beautiful twisty roads with lovely scenery and fantastic rock formations.  

It was great to be able to ride through the park with all our stuff! Proper motorcycling 😉 

It was difficult to make progress as around every corner the view was different and quite spectacular!

It was getting late in the day but that still didn't stop us from pulling in every couple of minutes to admire the views!  

We needed to get moving in order to get to our hotel in Rapid City before darkness. We saw a lot of bighorn sheep.

We got to our hotel just before the daylight disappeared completely - there was about a million Harley's there. We tried talking to a few people but nope, they wouldn't engage! We weren't one of them. Very disappointing attitude but hey ho 😉 When we set off to ride to Sturgis the following morning, most of the bikes had left already.

We reached Sturgis and after riding around for a little while found somewhere to park - aren't our bikes the nicest?! 😉

Welcome to Sturgis.

There was a lot of bikes!

Can you spot the cutie? 

Someone had their dog in a box on their bike 😊

There were bikes everywhere! Great sight. 

There were some great trucks too.

The noise in Sturgis was something else! 

All the stalls with "Sturgis merchandise" kept us entertained 😂

Walking around Sturgis was interesting, even though it really wasn't our cup of tea! 😉

And then James saw his favourite Harley......

John Deere one of course! 😂

There were so many bikes everywhere! 

After a few hours there we had enough! It's not our scene but it's good to be able to say that from experience 😉.  We rode back the 30 miles to Rapid City where we managed to squeeze in oil changes to both bikes before sunset.