#oh but. al calling him sammy...

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

We’re All A Little Mad Sometimes

Jonathan Byers x Fem!OC

Summary: Bunny is the girl of Jonathan’s dreams. With a masked killer on the loose he would do anything to protect her. She’s sweet, beautiful, and has a heart of gold. But things aren’t always as they seem… WK: 8.1k(oops)

This is a collab with @babygorewhore you can read her part about Eddie and her OC Sammy here.

Warnings: This is a scream AU so there will be descriptions of murder, violence, Jonathan is a perv(he thinks she doesn’t know but she does), mentions of male masturbation, slight jealous!jonathan, mentions of Bunny & king!steve in the past(she scares the shit out of him but doesn’t kill him), sub!Jonathan, Dom!Reader, blow job, unprotected sex. I thiiiink that’s it? Pls lmk if I missed any! Divider is @saradika-graphics

Jonathan walked shoulder to shoulder with Eddie down the hall, discussing the recent murder of Hawkin’s community’s head cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham. The gruesome images of the small blonde haunted the minds of everyone who had the misfortune of seeing them. She was killed with a large hunting knife, multiple stab wounds littering her body. The police wouldn’t have connected it to the murders of him and Eddie’s fathers if it wasn’t for the exact nature of the kill being the same, down to the murder weapon.

A little over a year ago, only a few nights apart Lonnie Byers and Al Munson were murdered in cold blood with a hunting knife, “overkill” they called it. He and Eddie would both be lying if they said they were sad, they should’ve been scared that they would come for them next, but if anything, they just felt relief.

Him and Eddie parted ways, and he made his way to his photography class. His favorite class and not just because it was his favorite subject, but because this was the class he shared with her. Willow. The girl he couldn’t keep his mind off of. He walked eagerly into the classroom, his eyes landing on her immediately.

She was beautiful, her long blonde hair always looked so soft against her caramel skin, her pink mini skirts and chunky Mary Jane’s, those big brown eyes and pouty lips. He would do anything she asked and all she had to do was look at him. When she would put her small manicured hands on his forearm and look up at him sweetly, he felt like he could melt where he stood. Maybe he should feel pathetic, but he can’t find it in himself to care when she looks at him like that. Not when she was an angel on earth.

He walked over to their shared table, pulling out the stool next to hers and putting his bag down. He was lucky enough to be assigned her seat partner at the beginning of the year, and even luckier that they got paired up to do their next project together.

“Hey Jonathan! It’s nice to see you.” Her voice sounds like sugar, the smile on her face just as sweet.

“Hey Bunny, it’s nice to see you too. Especially with everything that’s going. I’m uh - glad you're safe.” Bunny was a nickname, one he was proud to have given her. It stuck, and now everyone in their group called her that. He didn’t mind really, but ultimately she was his bunny, he gave her the nickname.

“Oh yeah I know! Isn’t it just awful? I can’t believe someone would do something like that. The pictures made my skin crawl.” Her big eyes were wide, her lips set into a pouty frown. Jonathan wanted to protect her, he never wanted her to not feel safe.

“Yeah, it’s really awful… You don’t have to be scared though I’ll pro-“

“Alright class!! Everybody remember who you’re not partnered with?”

“Yes! You ready to get to brainstorming, Jonny bear?”

Jonathan forgot what he was even going to say, her sweet nickname and the teacher's interruption turning his brain to mush. He spends the rest of class bouncing ideas back and forth with Bunny and tries his hardest not to gawk at her but fails on multiple occasions. It didn’t help that she was always touching him in some way or another.

When the bell rings, Bunny grabs her things and waves to him, letting him know she’s going to go find Sammy and that she will see him in the group spot in a bit. He stares after her, her little skirt swishing back and forth with the swing of her hips, the bows in her hair trailing behind her and her shiny black shoes squeak against the classroom's linoleum floor.

Jonathan gathered his things and sighed, his mind filled with nothing but all things Bunny. He thought of her soft skin and how it would feel against his fingers as he walked down the hall. He thought of her silky hair, the way he caught a whiff of strawberries every time she whipped her head around. He imagined her plush lips pressed against his own, he knew the sticky pink gloss she always wears would rub off on him. He desperately wanted to know what it tasted like.

When he reaches the courtyard his breath catches in his throat. Bunny was sitting with Sammy by her side. It was rare to see one without the other. They were the dynamic duo, everybody knew that. Sammy’s style was much different from Willow’s, she gravitated more towards dark colors. Her bright pink curls and combat boots are a stark contrast to her best friend’s frilly socks and pastel pinks. Yet they complimented each other so well, like yin and yang. Her brow was furrowed and her small hand was grasping Sammy’s sweater covered arm while they talked to Eddie. She looked upset and he immediately wanted to do anything and everything to see her smile again.

“Hey man, you just gonna stand there with your jaw hanging open all afternoon or are you gonna go talk to her?” Steve came up behind him, his large hand grabbing onto his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

“I wasn’t… staring. I just… got distracted, is all.” Jonathan shakes Steve’s hand off of him, sending him a glare.

“Oh dude, you were totally staring! I don’t get why you don’t just ask her out, she’s clearly into you.”

Robin stood next to Steve, rolling her eyes with a smile spread across her lips. Her and Steve were constantly teasing him about her. It drove him insane, because he knew they were right. He should just ask her out. But she was just so beautiful, her and Steve’s dad were business partners so she never had to want for anything growing up. He also knows her and Steve have… history. He knows they were friends with benefits for a while and he knows that Steve wanted more than that but she turned him down. If she didn’t want someone like Steve why would she want someone like him.

He didn’t come from anything, he wasn’t athletic or classically handsome like Steve was. He probably wouldn’t ever make a lot of money, wanting to choose his passion over his salary. Steve was a business major with a job lined up for him when he graduated. Steve was on the basketball team, the swim team, he threw huge parties and fucked around with different girls every weekend. Jonathan was a loser virgin who spent his weekends smoking weed in his dorm with Eddie Munson while they played Dark Souls.

“Better snatch her up, before someone else does.” Steve winked at him before walking towards the table, his stupidly perfect hair somehow looking like it was glowing in the sunlight. He didn’t mind as much when Robin teased him but when it came from Steve it made his blood boil.

“Don’t listen to him Jonny, like Robin said, she’s totally into you.” Robin’s girlfriend, Marina smiled sweetly at him, tilting her head towards the table as Robin pulled her along by the hand.

He took a deep breath, thanking whatever god is out there that Steve didn’t take the spot next to her. He slid onto the bench, his senses immediately being flooded with sweet strawberry goodness. His heart rate picked up when she smiled at him.

“Hey Jonny bear, we were just talking about how scary all of this is…” Her lips were set into a pout, that same crease between her eyebrows he saw from afar that he wanted to rub out with his thumb.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucked, huh? Like I know none of us were Chrissy’s biggest fan but I don’t think she deserved to die like that.”

“I’ve been thinking about those photos all morning… I can’t help but think about if that happened to me. You don’t think this guy has like… a type do you?” Her large brown eyes were filled with panic, her bottom lip squeezed between her teeth.

“I don’t think so, because before this it was me and Eddie’s dads, there doesn’t seem to be a specific pattern anymore. You’ll be okay… I promise l - I’ll keep you safe.” He smiled sweetly at her, forcing himself to be brave enough to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks bear…” She returned his smile with one of her own, her thumb gently stroking his hand.

“I-“

“You take a knife, and you slit them from groin to sternum.” Bunny’s hand drops from his, her head whipping towards Steve with her mouth hanging open. That crease between her brows returned and it made him want to smack Steve.

“Didn’t you and Chrissy used to date?” Eddie has a smirk on his face directed towards Steve.

“Yeah dude for like two seconds, and if you wanna call what her and I did “dating” then I guess me and Willie “dated” too, and look at her she’s perfectly alive and well.” Jonathan scoffed, Steve’s words, feeling like a knife in his heart. He knew they fucked, but he hated being reminded that it happened.

“Hey.” He was snapped from his thoughts at the sound of her sweet voice, her soft hand landing on his Jean covered thigh, causing him to gulp. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just being a fucking idiot. You still wanna work on our project today?”

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled at her, his cheeks tinted pink. What did she mean don’t listen to him? Is she reassuring him because she likes him? He really fucking hopes so. “You still want me to drive us there?”

“Yeah totally! I’m really excited! I think we will have the most unique topic honestly. Who else is going to think to depict the different types of gravestones depending on the time period?” He loves the way her eyes light up when she talks about things she’s excited about. He never would’ve thought this sweet girl with bows in her hair would ask him to take her to the Hawkins cemetery of all places. She was always surprising him in the best ways.

“With all this bullshit there’s probably going to be a curfew in a few days, so I’m throwing a party this weekend. You idiots are all invited.” Steve tapped his hands on the table, making sure to wink at Willow before he got up and walked off. Jonathan scoffed, anytime he felt like he was getting somewhere with her it was like his confidence was knocked down all over again.

“Don’t let him get to you Jonny, he’s not worth the energy. You wanna get going? If we leave right now we can get there before dusk! That way we can still get some natural light photos!” She clapped her hands together excitedly and Jonathan tried not to look at the way her boobs giggled in her tank top, he really did, but he just couldn’t help himself around her.

“Yeah uh - yeah, let’s go, Bunny”

Jonathan watched in awe as Willow weaved through the various headstones pointing out different shapes and sizes. He was actually really surprised with her knowledge on the topic, when he asked her if she had been doing research for their project she shook her head and said it was just something that had “always interested her” which just made her even more interesting to him.

“Jonathan! Look at this one, like I was telling you earlier doves were a very prevalent image on headstones in the mid 1700s! Oh! And that one over there, see how it just looks like a rock that someone carved into? That’s because before the 1600s they didn’t have professional gravestone carvers, so they didn’t start making them more decorative until then!”

Her eyes sparkled, the excited tone of her voice warming every inch of his heart. She was just so cute. Talking about the history of gravestones all clad in pink and white. He wanted to kiss her so badly. He watched her bend forward to brush leaves and grass off a stone by her feet. The heat that was previously residing in his heart rushed to his cock in a matter of seconds, her little pink skirt rode up her hips, showcasing her white panties that had little pink bunnies all over them… his breath caught in his throat as he held in a groan. It wasn’t the first time he had caught a glance up her skirt, and he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

He wished he could say it was the first time he grabbed the camera that was around his neck, raising it to his eye. He quickly snapped a photo of her from behind, turning the lense slightly over her shoulder before she could turn around.

“Did you get a good one?” She turned towards him with a smile on her face.

“Huh?” He looked at her dumbfounded, did she know?

“Of that stone over there? Did you get a good picture of it?”

“Oh! Yeah! I think so, I’m gonna take one more, just to be sure.” He smiled sweetly at her, snapping a ‘second’ photo of the stone she was standing close to.

“Aw shit! My battery just died.” Bunny huffed as her camera beeped in her hands. “Can I use yours real quick? I was trying to get this shot and I’m scared that if I move I’ll lose it.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” Jonathan hands her his camera with a smile. His heart rate picks up when she takes it and their hands brush. Not just from her touch, but also from anxiety. He was really hoping she wouldn’t ask to use his camera. Earlier that morning he was sitting in his car before class, going through his photos and when he was scrolling he saw one he took of her a few days prior.

She was walking up the stairs a few steps above him and he had the perfect view of her panties, he just couldn’t help himself. He also couldn’t help himself when he pulled his hard cock from his jeans and started jerking off in his passenger seat with his camera gripped in his hands. When he came it was sudden, and way quicker than he expected so it shot onto the screen and the strap of his camera. It came off the screen easily, but the strap? Not so much. The more he tried to get it off the more it seemed to spread, so he ended up giving up. It had mostly dried since then but it was still a little tacky and he just prayed she wouldn’t notice.

“This is kinda sticky…” His heart immediately stopped beating in his chest as he watched her fingers stick and unstick from the strap. Part of him was terrified of her reaction but part of him was so turned on at the thought of her touching his cum that he wasn’t sure if he cared anymore or not.

“Oh shit, yeah, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you before I handed it to you, I spilled juice on my desk this morning and it got on the strap, I tried to get it off but it just kept spreading around. I’m gonna have to get a new one tomorrow.” He scratched the back of his head, nervously biting his lip.

“Juice?” She raised her eyebrow, her eyes traveling from the strap to his and back down to the strap, her fingers touching it experimentally. “What kind?”

“What kind? Uh - Orange. Yeah, it was orange juice.”

“Orange juice? That’s my favorite…” Her brown eyes twinkle and she holds eye contact with him as she lets her tongue slip from between her plush lips, trailing it along the length of the strap with a moan. She licks her lips and smiles at him. “Mmm… tastes so good.”

Jonathan’s jaw drops, his cock feels like it’s going to explode in his jeans, his mind doesn’t even feel like it’s properly computing what just happened. She just licked his cum, and she liked the taste. Did she know? He genuinely doesn’t even know how to respond, and she either knows that or doesn’t seem to be aware of the effect she just had because she just shrugs and puts the strap over her head. She brings the camera to her face, capturing the shot she had her eye on.

“Okay! I think we should take some in that area over there, and maybe walk down a little further to see if we missed any before we head back?” She smiles at him, blissfully unaware of the fact that if she so much as breathed the right way right now he would cum in his pants.

“Yeah, sounds good!” His voice came out squeaky, and he adjusted himself in his jeans as subtly as possible, withholding a groan at the momentary relief in pressure.

The next hour was both heaven and hell for Jonathan, he loved spending time with Bunny, he truly did. But right now he felt like if he didn’t cum soon he was going to fucking die. If he didn’t know better he would think she was teasing him intentionally. She kept bending over in front of him, doing those cute little excited jumps she would do when she was happy causing her tits to bounce in that little white top. At one point she even said she “could really go for some orange juice now” and that’s when he couldn’t take it anymore. Making an excuse about homework and calling it a night.

“I think we got some good ones, don’t you, Jonny bear?” Bunny skipped alongside him, a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah Bunny, I think we definitely got some good ones…”

Jonathan huffed as he declined the call from an “unknown number” for the third time in the last ten minutes. Ever since he switched phone companies a few months ago he swears the amount of spam calls he's gotten has doubled. His phone rang again, the same unknown contact lighting up the screen. Whoever this was clearly wasn’t gonna give it up.

“Hello?”

“Jonathan Byers?”

“Yeah this is him, who is this? Why do you keep calling me?”

“I think you know why, you little pervert. I’ve been watching you, I know about your little photo collection. I know about your obsession with your precious little Bunny.”

“W-what? I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about… whoever this is, leave me the hell alone.”

He scoffed, hitting the red circular button on his phone screen. This person was clearly fucking with him, and even if they weren’t they had no proof of anything. Fuck that. He let out a deep breath, trying to compose his anxious thoughts. He had just started to calm down when his phone abruptly started ringing again.

“You think you can hang up on me, Jonny boy? Think again. I’m not fucking around here, hang up the phone again and I’ll slit your little rabbits neck and come for you next. I’ll stab her more times than I did your low life daddy. Got it?”

“What the hell do you want? Who is this? If you seriously think I’m going to believe you’re the killer you’re insane. You’re obviously some asshole just trying to freak me out with everything that’s going on.”

“Oh so you wanna act tough? Don’t believe me? Check your texts.” His phone dinged seconds later and he removed it from his ear, clicking on the text notification from the unknown number. He gasped when he saw the contents of the text. It was a photo of him on the stairs, with his camera in his hands. The lens was tilted at Willow walking a few steps above him, directly up her little skirt.

“W-What do you want from me?”

“I don’t particularly want anything from you, I just wanted you to know I’m watching…If you want your little Bunny rabbit in one piece you’ll do what I say, when I say it. Got it? Have a good night, pretty boy… don’t let the bedbugs bite…” The line went dead, leaving Jonathan standing in the middle of his room alone, confused and shaking.

“He really called you? Like you’re sure it was him?” Bunny pouted as she leaned her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her folded hands. The red light of the darkroom reflects off her hair giving it a blood tinted hue.

“I’m pretty sure… He was really believable.” Jonathan gulped as he unrolled the negatives from their project, laying them out on the table.

“What did he say though? Did he threaten you??” Her brows furrowed, and yet again he just wanted to kiss right in between them, kiss all her worries away. Especially if she was worrying about him.

“Uh - yeah, kind of? He kind of made it seem like he’d be back later to force me to do something for him almost? I’m not really sure… but, he called Eddie and did the same to him. I’m pretty freaked out if I’m being honest.” He let out a shaky breath as he loaded the negatives into the enlarger, getting the first one in frame to process.

“That’s so scary… especially with your guys’ dads last year, and now Nancy. It seems like he might be targeting you or something. How are you doing by the way? With Nancy being found and all…”

“Yeah, I’ve kind of been thinking the same… I’m trying not to think too much into it, but it’s hard not to, ya know? Also I’m doing… okay? It’s not like she and I were on good terms in the slightest but I didn’t want her to die or anything, especially like that. I’m a sad obviously… It just mostly feels weird knowing she’s gone, I guess.”

Not as sad as I would be if it were you. He almost said it, he had to physically stop himself. He’d never even held her hand but he would feel like the world was ending if even a hair on her head was misplaced. Nancy had been brutally murdered, he did everything with her except actually fuck her and he didn’t even shed a tear. Granted she cheated on him with Steve, and he literally sent him a photo of her with his dick shoved deep inside her from behind.

“Kind of strange that two of the victims have been girls Steve slept with, don’t you think?” Bunny inquired, her small hand grabs a piece of photography paper from the stack, placing it under the focus finder for him. She leaned over the table to look into the peephole, giving Jonathan a perfect view down her little pink dress that he just couldn’t resist. Her hair fell over her shoulder and into her eyes and he reached out, pushing it back without thinking. He almost apologized, scared he overstepped, but she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “Thank you bear.”

“Yeah it’s a little strange, but if we are going by that logic he fucked me and Eddie’s dads too.” He chuckled at the thought, grabbing the sheet of paper with the photo Bunny took the other day and putting it into the liquid filled processing tub.

“Ha! I suppose you’re right about that. I know he won’t cancel his party either, he will totally see this as an opportunity to have everyone ‘chill and let loose’ or some corny shit.” She snorted, throwing her head back with a giggle.

“Yeah, you’re definitely right about that, Bunny.” He smiled, her giggle causing him to let out a chuckle of his own.

“Are you gonna go? To the party I mean.”

“Uh - I’m not sure, I’m still thinking about it. I think Eddie is going, if he does I probably will.” He shrugged, grabbing the next film strip and lining it up without thinking.

“Me and Sammy are going, it would be cool to see you there.” She smiled sweetly at him, her fingers twirling a strand of her hair. Her brown doe eyes were shining in the red light as she stared at him, far too distracted to notice the photo of her bent over in front of him at the cemetery being magnified by the negative carrier right next to her.

“Yeah? Then maybe I’ll go, I’ll let you know for sure. Um I -“ He stopped mid sentence when he turned back to the task at hand, his eyes widening at the sight of the photo in front of him. He quickly pulls the photo away, praying to whatever god is out there that she hadn’t noticed it.

“Oh shit - whoops!” Bunny let out a small gasp when she accidentally knocked over the stack of papers on the table, turning to pick them up off the ground, giving him yet another glimpse of her panties. It also gave him time to shove the film strip in his pocket and out of view.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just turned a little too fast and knocked these down, no biggie.” She picked up the stack, straightening it and putting it back on the table before pulling her dress back into place, giving him one of those smiles that is so sweet he feels like he’s going to get a cavity from it one day.

“Okay, cool, wanna keep going?” He smiled back, his cheeks dusted pink, he couldn’t help it, she was just so cute all the time, no matter what she was doing.

“Yeah, of course!” Her hand found his bicep, giving it a few soft strokes with her silky smooth thumb. It sent shivers through his entire body, there’s no way she didn’t feel the goosebumps raise on his skin.

“Cool, let’s do it, cutie. By the way I really do hope you decide to go, to the party I mean.” She winks at him, raising up on her tiptoes to place a soft lip gloss covered kiss on his cheek before turning back to the negatives, resuming her work like she didn’t just make his insides melt.

Jonathan wandered around the party with his camera around his neck and his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes scanned the crowd every few seconds, keeping them peeled for Bunny. He knew she was here, he saw her car outside when he was coming up. He decided to grab a drink and perch himself against a wall in the living room. He people watched as he sipped the strong syrupy drink.

He caught sight of Eddie, sitting side by side with Sammy on the couch and he smiled to himself. From what Eddie had told him things between them seemed to be going well. He heard a giggle he would recognize anywhere coming from his left over the music and he turned his head only to be met with a sight that made his heart shatter.

Bunny was here, that was for sure. She was standing in front of Steve, in front of being an exaggeration, she was literally pressed up against him, trapping him between her and the wall. She had this mischievous look in her eyes that Jonathan had never seen, and the smile on her lips was almost sinister. She looked like she wanted to eat Steve alive and he never felt more jealous in his entire life. That should be him. You should be doing that cute hair twirling thing you do and giggling at his jokes. Not fucking Steve. Jonathan watched as you continued to whisper in his ear, Steve’s bottom lip catching between his teeth at whatever you were saying.

“Listen up everyone!! If we are gonna survive this night with a psycho killer on the loose we are gonna have to understand the rules!” Robin stood clapping her hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Rules? At a party? Seriously?” Steve scoffed, stepping away from Bunny to walk into the living room. “I think that’s the last thing on everyone’s mind right now, Rob.”

“Yes rules, dingus!! First rule, you can NEVER have sex. Have sex, and you die!” Everyone in the room booed and laughed at that, no sex? At a party? At Steve Harrington’s house? Not likely.

“I think you’re a little late for that…” Steve smirked over his shoulder at Bunny, sending her a wink. Jonathan cringed as he watched her bite her lip, curling a finger towards herself as she walked towards the stairs. He wanted to scream while he watched Steve’s smirk turn into a full blown smile, and when Steve followed her up the stairs? He wanted to bash his head into the wall. Fuck.

Robin continued to rant about her “rules” but he couldn’t hear a word she was saying anymore. All the blood in his body rushed to his ears and everything in the room sounded like it was under water. He brought his drink to his lips, chugging the remainder of it before scanning the room again. Eddie was still sitting on the couch but Sammy was gone, so he made his way to his best friend’s side like a kid who just got his toy stolen at recess.

“Hey man…” Jonathan sighed as he flopped down next to Eddie.

“Hey dude, you okay? I saw uh - you know…”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s cool. I’m sure she will say hi if she feels like it. Wanna smoke?” He tried to sound as nonchalant as he could, but Eddie knew him, he could tell how upset he truly was. But if he didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to pry.

“Yeah bro, light one up, why the hell not? It is a party after all, Robin’s rules be damned.”

Steve walked down the hall toward the door he saw Bunny go in, when he entered it was dark, and the door slammed behind him.

“Oh shit! Jesus Christ. Willow?” He searched the room for her but his eyes had yet to adjust so all he could see was darkness.

“Hey Stevie boy.” A voice came from behind him, one that definitely didn’t belong to the small blonde haired girl he was looking for.

“Wha-? Who's there? This isn’t fucking funny.” He whipped around towards the door, only to find it blocked by a black cloaked figure. The mask of the infamous “Ghostface” staring back at him. “Hey man, I don’t want any trouble, seriously. I’m just looking for my girl -“

“Your girl?” The figure rushes him, slamming his back against a near wall. A shiny silver butcher's knife is held to his throat so tightly when he gulps it knicks him a little. “Since when has she ever been your girl? And if you didn’t want any trouble Steve… Why did you do it?”

“Do - do what? What did I do?” His voice comes out as panicked as his hazel eyes look, his hands shaking at his sides.

“You really don’t know? Or are you really so much of a prick that you don’t even understand the concept of right and wrong? Remember how you fucked Jonathan’s girlfriend and sent him a photo of your dick buried inside her? Or what about all the times you’ve called him ‘little dick Byers’?” The voice was harsh and masculine, which confused Steve slightly due to the fact that the person standing in front of him was half his size. Regardless, they had a knife to his throat and he had seen the photos of their victims.

“That’s what this is about? Byers? Seriously? I’m just giving him shit dude! I know that shit with Nancy wasn’t cool but I was just being a dick! I’m fucking sorry okay!”

“Yeah? You’re sorry? That’s so sweet Steve… you know, I was going to kill you, but I think I’ll let you go. I have a better idea… you’re gonna tell Jonathan just how sorry you are, and then you’re never going to fuck with him again. If I find out you do, I won’t kill you, but, I will tell everyone how ‘Big dick king Steve’ is really just a subby little baby with mommy issues who wants girls to play with his ass and spit in his mouth. Got it?” Ghostface chuckles, running the tip of the blade along the boy’s Adam’s apple.

“Yeah! Yeah! I got it! Please just let me go!” Steve has no idea how they know that, there’s only ever been two girls he’s shown that side of himself to, but right now he doesn’t fucking care, he just wants this knife as far away from his throat as possible.

“Oh Steve? if you want my advice? I’d own the whole sub thing, you’re kinda sexy when you beg…” The figure taps his cheek with the blade before backing away from him, leaving the room and locking him inside.

•

“THE KILLER IS FUCKING HERE!! HE FUCKING STABBED ME! HELP!!” A dude came running in the back door, holding his shoulder that was gushing blood. Screams erupted around the room, everyone running towards the door, bodies slamming into each other and drinks spilling as cups were dropped from hands in a frenzy.

“Fuck.” Jonathan was immediately on guard, discarding his own drink and scanning the room for Bunny and Eddie. He pushed through panicked party goers, yelling out both her real and her nickname, but she was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the room for the fluffy curls of his best friend and came up empty. He rushed down the now empty hallway, poking his head into one of the bedrooms only to be pulled inside and slammed against the door.

A hand pressed against his mouth, his head shoved against the hard wood of the door, causing him to wince and close his eyes. His hands reached for the one covering his mouth, when they met silky soft skin his eyes shot open. Bunny. She was standing in front of him in her little pink dress, her small hand still held to his lips, but the look in her eyes is one he had never seen before. He tried to say her name but it came out muffled, he tapped her hand, silently asking her to move it. She complied, taking a small step back.

“Bunny? What’s going on? Are you alright?” His eye’s frantically searched her, landing first on the blood on her left shoulder, a bit of it staining the tips of her white hair. He couldn’t tell if it was hers or not. His brown irises traveled over her face, to his relief there wasn’t a scratch on it. But that’s when he noticed it, in her right hand, a butcher's knife, covered in blood. “Bunny? Why do you have that?”

“Aww, you’re so sweet to me Jonny Bear, I’m alright. Don’t worry. It’s not my blood.” A smirk stretches across her lips and that look he couldn’t identify before now presents itself as almost evil.

“Whose - whose is it then? And you didn’t answer my question Bunny… Why do you have that knife? Why is it covered in blood? What's going on?” Jonathan is frantic, his hands running through his hair as his breath starts to pick up.

“It’s Jason’s.” She shrugs, so nonchalantly, like holding a knife with one of their classmates' blood dripping from it is just an everyday occurrence.

“Jason’s? What happened to Jason?”

“Well… there is no more Jason.” She raises the knife, shaking it back and forth, that smirk on her face widening into a full blown smile. “Me and Sam made sure of that.”

“You and Sa - ? What do you mean Bunny? What did you do to Jason?” Jonathan is in disbelief, this isn’t the Willow he knows, did she seriously hurt Jason? Does that mean? No. She can’t be.

“Jonathan… baby, don’t do that.” She pouts as she closes the distance between them again, pressing her chest against his, the knife still held at her side.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what I did. Well, what we did. We stabbed him in the neck, both sides. If you need me to spell it out for you.” She giggles, that giggle that usually sounds sickly sweet coming off far more sinister now.

“Bunny… I - does that mean you - you killed all of those people? Why? Why would you do that? I don’t understand you’re so-“ his eyes search her face, his sweet Willow, could she really have done this? Everything he knows about her tells him no, but the way she’s looking at him right now, and the knife in her hand? They tell him otherwise.

“Well, I didn’t kill all of them… Just your dad… and Nancy…” She brings a delicate finger up to his jaw, tracing it. “I did it for you, ya know? Because you deserve better than them.”

“For me? What - what do you mean you did it for me?” Jonathan was beyond confused, why would she do that for him?

“Well, I feel like your dead beat dad was a given, I saw how upset you were when he came around here last year, asking you for money and insulting you when you didn't have it. Hurting you. You thought I didn’t notice but I did. You think I don’t notice you but I do…” she presses herself closer to him, her hand cupping his jaw while she runs her thumb over his bottom lip. He gulps, and he knows it shouldn’t but his cock stirs in his pants at the feeling of her boobs pressed against his chest.

“And Nancy… well I never liked her know it all ass anyways, but when I found out what she did to you? My blood boiled. Imagine having a sweet boy like you and hurting him like that? I almost killed Steve too… but I had a more fun idea for him. He’s locked in his room right now.” She giggles, her brown eyes shine and that sickly sweet smile doesn’t budge.

Jonathan is speechless, he still isn’t sure that this isn’t some kind of fucked up dream. His sweet Bunny, Willow, a killer?

“Don’t act like you’re not happy, Bear, I can feel your appreciation.” She ground herself against his hardening cock, the knife in her hand drags up his bare forearm and sends shivers through his entire body. “Plus, you aren’t so innocent, I know all about your little photo collection of me. I love how much you fall for my ditzy girl act, you didn’t ever think I was bending down in front of you in all those tiny skirts on purpose?”

“Were you… really?” He gasps, the knife continuing to travel up his shoulder, his collarbone, until it stops at his throat where she presses it lightly. Not enough to break the skin, just enough for him to feel it.

“Of course I was, oh, and orange juice? Jonny Bear, you really think I wouldn’t know? Pathetic virgin boy cum is my favorite flavor.” She bites her lip, her free hand coming to tug on the strap of his camera that he has yet to replace.

“You knew? I felt so bad, I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know what to say and I -“

“Jonathan!” She holds a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Don’t be sorry, I liked it. I’d like to get a taste of the real thing… if I’m being honest.” She bites her plump lower lip, her eyes traveling his face. He looked confused, but scared? No. When her eyes met his there was lust there.

“You do?” He bites his lip, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he looks at her. The smile on her face is still there, but the look in her eyes is now filled with hunger and it makes his heart rate pick up in a different way.

“Yeah, can I taste you?” She leans up on her tiptoes, her lips graze his ear and it sends shivers through his body.

“Please.” He whimpers and it’s like music to her ears.

She tosses the knife across the room and it hits the wooden floor with a clank. She takes the camera from around his neck, bringing the strap to her lips and darting her tongue across it with a moan. Putting the camera around her own neck.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” She drops to her knees and smiles up at him and her voice is like honey, and if he didn’t know any better he would believe she was the sweet girl he thought she always was until ten minutes ago.

She undoes his belt, undoing his button and zipper with haste. She pulls his pants down to his ankles in one swift motion and his cock springs free, hitting his stomach. It’s long and thick, honestly bigger than she expected and she moans at the sight. She takes it in her hand, her thumb circling the head, spreading around the precum that gathered there.

“Oh shit bunny.” Jonathan whimpers and sends shockwaves to Bunny’s core.

“Mmm.. I knew you’d sound so sweet whimpering for me, Jonny Bear.” She leans forward to kitten lick his head and moans at the taste of him. “And you taste so good.”

She smirks at him, batting her mascara covered lashes as she takes his head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Jonathan moans, his hands coming up to clutch the wall behind him, his head thrown back.

“Oh god.” His voice sounds fucked out, his cheeks flushed, and he’s trying really fucking hard not to cum already. The way Bunny’s plump lips look so perfect wrapped around his cock just like he thought they would, her big doe eyes staring up at him as she moans around him. She takes the rest of him down her throat and he jerks forward, causing her to gag. “Oh sh - shit, I’m sorry bunny, fuck.”

“Mmm that’s okay baby, I liked it.” She takes him in her mouth again, bobbing her head up and down on his shaft. Her small hand comes up to play with his balls and his eyes roll back, a loud moan ripping from his chest.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gon-“ Jonathan is seconds away from cumming when she pulls off of him with a pop.

“Don’t you dare cum yet, don’t you want to cum inside of me?” Bunny stands, that smirk on her face ever present. “You look so cute like this… I think I should take a picture. It’s only fair that I have one of you since you have so many of me, don’t you think, Bear?”

“Uh - yeah, yeah, I think that’s… fair.” Jonathan blushed profusely, the thought of her taking a photo of him with his pants around his ankles and his hard leaky cock exposed feels humiliating. But god he would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even more.

“Good boy.” Her voice is sickly sweet and those words leaving her mouth make Jonathan moan. She takes a step back, holding the camera to her face. She clicks the button not once, but twice. She pulls the camera over her head, setting it on a dresser in the room before her dress follows. His jaw drops and a whine leaves his lips at the sight of her bare before him. No bra or panties to be found under that little pink dress. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed for me.”

She doesn’t have to ask him twice. He quickly removes all his clothing as she watches with lust filled eyes. He lays down on the guest bed, his cock still hard and at attention. His brown eyes are wide with wonder as Bunny walks over to the bed to straddle him. She grabs his face in her hand, squeezing his cheeks together with her thumb and index finger roughly. But when she leans down to kiss him for the first time her lips are gentle, and so so soft and her lip gloss tastes like bubblegum. Jonathan moans into the kiss, his hands instinctively grabbing onto her hips.

“I wanna taste you too, Bunny.” He whimpers against her lips. “Will you sit on my face? Please Bunny?”

“Mmm… next time, baby. I’ll give you a little taste though, since you’ve been such a good boy for me.”

She uses her hands to push herself up against his chest, and god does she look beautiful sitting above him. Jonathan watches as she brings two fingers to her core, sliding them inside her. She fucks them into herself a few times and he can hear how wet she is. She pulls her fingers from herself and brings them to his lips.

“Suck.” Jonathan eagerly takes her fingers into his mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her finally on his tongue. Bunny settled herself on his lap, her slick pussy lips sat directly on his cock. She grinds down, easily gliding along his length with how wet she is. “I can’t wait anymore to have this pretty cock stretching me out.”

She pulls her fingers from his mouth and brings them to his cock, rubbing her spit along the head. She takes his shaft in her hand, rising up on her knees and sliding his tip through her slick folds. She pushes his head inside, grinding up and down a few times before slamming the rest of the day down onto his cock in one thrust.

“FUCK! BUNNY!l Jonathan moans, his eyes crossed, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass.

“Mmm Jonny bear, you feel so fucking good, filling me up just right, you’re so good for me. My good boy.” Bunny starts to bounce up and down on his cock, her hands planted on his chest and her manicured nails pierce his flesh in the best way.

“You feel - so good Bunny. So good. So warm. Oh god.”

He’s a whimpering mess, the girl of his dreams is riding him like her life depends on it, her pussy sucking him in like it was fucking made for him. Her tits bounce in his face and he wants to grab them so badly, it’s like she can sense his hesitation because she grabs his hands and brings them to her chest, squeezing. He greedily takes the invitation, his hands grouping onto the plush flesh.

“Did you jerk off to those pictures of me, bear? Is that why there was cum on your camera strap? Just couldn’t resist, could you?” She mock pouts at him, her thrusts never faltering.

“Y- yes. Yes, I saw this photo I forgot I took and - fuckingshitohmygod - and I just couldn’t help myself. It was in my car, in the parking lot at school too.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot baby, I love how much you want me. It drives me crazy.” She laces her fingers into his hair and pulls, It earns her one of those pathetic little whimpers she wants to record and listen to on repeat. She leans forward, attaching her lips to his neck. She sucks hard, making sure to leave her mark. “And you’re all mine, huh? My good boy? You don’t even care that I killed those people, do you? Just wanna be my little slut and let me use you?”

“Fucking, shit, yeah Bunny. I - Jesus Christ - I’d do anything for you.” His hands grip onto her ass but other than that he’s like puddy underneath her and you can tell he’s getting close.

She sits up again, her thrusts becoming harder and faster than ever. She brings her hand between her legs, rubbing fast circles on her clit.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty boy?” She brings her other thumb to his lip, running the digit across it. “Gonna fill me up?”

“I - FUCK!” Jonathan stiffens beneath her, his fingernails digging so deep into the skin of her ass that she feels the skin break. Seconds later he’s spilling inside her, the feeling sending her over the edge as well. She grinds through her high on his over sensitive cock, breathy little gasps leaving her lips while he whimpers overstimulated and at her mercy.

“Holy shit.” Bunny chuckles, rolling off of him and into his side with a groan. She snuggles up into his chest and he happily takes her into his arms. “That was amazing. You were so good for me Bear, my good boy, you’re always gonna be my good boy. From now on… I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

And she meant it. She would protect him at all costs. Even if it meant she had to go a little mad sometimes.

[fortheloveoffisherman]

Dean x OC | The Ultimate Gift.

Imagine: Dean comes back for late from a hunt around your birthday with a gift he's for certain, will be one you never forget. TW: death, angst.

OR - the first time you say the words "I love you" to a Winchester brother.

// Men of Letters Bunker //

Two sharp raps at the door followed by Dean's secret jingle has you smiling faintly when you look up at the door of your little private space in the huge bunker.

"Come in!" You call out and he opens the door, left hand behind his back.

"Hey there, lonely girl." He sang as he danced his shoulders toward you and you couldn't have the faint giggle that escaped you.

"How was the hunt? Must've been a rager for you if you've been gone all this time.. and is that." She sniffed the air. "Victory beer?"

"Well you know, I wouldn't have missed your birthday." He scratched his neck with his free hand. "Sammy said you went back home? How was that?"

"Oh you know... the usual." She chuckled. "Got together with a few old hunting buddies and had an existential crisis."

"Dean!" Sam raced in. "OH. I thought I was gonna miss it."

"Miss what?" You asked.

"Hey." Dean said sharply, eyes darting over his shoulder but not really turning to look at his younger brother. "So, anyway. What'd Sam get you? Just curious."

"He bought me an AirTag. Well bought all of us one."

"Sure did. And taught her how to set it up on her phone. She's got eyes on both of us at all times and vice versa."

"Both... Did you put a tracker on me?" Dean turned his head and Sam scoffed.

"Would you rather me or she put a tracking spell on you...?" Sam gestured you with a pointed eyebrow.

"Anyway." you sighed before the boys got into a signature argument over just the dullest things. "It was nice."

"Well. My gift is arguably the best one of all time."

"Why?" Sam was nearly belligerent and beside himself. "A better gift than a way to completely kill off the anxiety of 'when/where/why?"

Dean pulled a sloppily wrapped gift out from his back and held it to you with genuine thrill in his eyes as he sat on the edge of your bed. You frowned at the peculiar shape of it. Slowly but surely you began to peel the wrapping paper off and was genuinely surprised to find a bloody blade sitting in a ziplock bag in your hands.

"Dean..." You frowned. "I don't..."

"That's the sword I used to kill the demon that..." He grabbed your hand. "That killed him." The statement was so definitive. The blade that killed the man you loved... The reason hunting became your vice...

You tried to speak, but no words came out of you as you looked at the visceral remains practically caramelized between the weapon and the plastic.

"That's where I've been. Killing the evil son of a bitch that--" His big eyes were red rimmed so fast it nearly broke your heart. He blinked away tears and bit his lip. "Went down there and summoned the bastard myself."

"Dean, you've been gone for days..." Sam shook his head.

"Well, yeah. What was I just supposed to kill it? No... I made it bleed... I made it suffer...." You let the bag turn over in your hands. "And now Princess has got her very own trophy."

"Dean.." You fought to find words. "I love you."

His face faltered for a second. You'd never said those three words out loud. Not even when you were the most grief stricken talking about your late partner..

"Love you too. We both do. Happy late birthday. Now let's make with the belated birthday cake and pie before Sammy starts crying like a bitch."

"Hey, fuck you! Jerk." The boys began poking jabs at each other as you took the weapon in which slain the beast that slain your heart into the drawer of your bedside table.

You jumped up and didn't for a second miss the gesture Dean made behind his back, opening and closing his fingers in the palm of his hand... signaling you to come take his hand behind his back.

You grabbed it and he squeezed twice before practically tugging you into the hall, all the while still making jokes at Sam as if his warm hand wasn't all the affirmation that the love of the Winchesters was always the ultimate gift.

[ijumpbridges]

Conferences

Happy Birthdayyyy to meeeeee, so im making a weird story.

@nayafenix15

~~

Bridges was at a conference at the Vegas hotel, turns out he made friends with a guy who was also a higher rank with him and apparently he knew Bridges, and so they hit it off together.

Bridges lean into one of the windows and then jump a little when he felt something hit the windows.

“Pero la semilla” He said turning around and sees Billy.

Bridges opens the windows and Billy gets inside.

“Bruh, we been looking for you” Billy said getting inside the window.

“Billy.. this is a 7th floor, how are you here?” Bridges said.

“It was by accident but that doesn’t matter”

“It matters, you are on a conference and the weirdest thing no one has notice you came through to the window, you can’t be here. Let me take you out of here” Bridges said touching his shoulder.

Billy didn’t say anything, just follow Bridges lead as they both head to the door. A man from afar sees them and chases after then, he grabs Bridges arm and stops him from leaving.

“You leaving so soon, friend?” He grabs Bridges arm to which scares him and flinches it away, hiding it, the man still notice but rather not bring it up.

“Ah, sorry, but i had to take this one back, not sure how he got in, this is my Nephew” Bridges lies and the man smiles.

“Why are you-“ Billy gets hit by Bridges and stays quiet.

“Ah, what a lovely young man, he probably is going to grow up and be a fighter just like you”

“Oh no, he already is, he has been in combat before” Bridges said, Billy just watched the man, feeling a weird vibe from him.

“That’s very nice, [Redacted] can i have your number? You and your work experience can help us for our next meeting. You could teach more young kids about law enforcement, what do you say?” The man said, he smile unlike Bridges, he wasn’t happy.

“I’ll give it to you in a sec, I’ll be right back” Bridges said hurrying with Billy. Billy notice his grip has tightened on his shoulder

“What’s the matter? Why did you lie? Your hands” Billy asked him and pointed the hand.

“That guy, he said my name. I never told me him my name, we have to get out” Bridges said in a low tone, taking him to a table, where there was a towel, a bag that was open. Bridges went through his stuff.

“What” Billy said shocked.

“Billy, we need to leave. I brought my phone.. i cant find it” Bridges said taking out a phone.

“You have it, isn’t that the one?” Billy pointed out.

“No, i brought another one. Y’know how people have two phones one personal and another for business, i cant find the business one” Bridges said looking around for it.

“Did you go anywhere else? Before we met?” Billy asked Bridges, giving an ideas of where it could be.

“Bathroom, let’s go” Bridges said grabbing his bag and once again taking Billy with him with the same grip on his shoulder.

As they went to the bathroom, someone else follow them withou tthem notcing them.

“I was in here before you got inside of the window…” He said getting inside of a bathroom stall.

“Bridges!” Someone called, it was a woman, catching Bridges attention for the familiar voice.

“Hello?” Bridges said confuse.

“Bridges what the fuck” The woman said approaching him with mixed feelings. “Why did you came back!?”

“Sammy, how are you?”

“Bridges there no time for hellos you are wanted by 7 states, and 3 military branches” She said making Bridges face go pale

“Holy shit, what the fuck has happen”

“You seriously asking me? They are saying that you were involve on a riot that you cause, infiltration, a attacking and giving confidential information, these men are here cuz they were planning into hunting you”

“Im accuse of what!? You know im innocent right?” Bridges said shocked.

“Of course i do, i got your phone, but you have to get out” Sammy said showing him his phone, she threw it for him to catch it.

Bridges catches his phone, they al start talking on how to get out of this whole mess.

~~

“That should keep them occupied” 999 said, as the others kept themselves busy.

4840, 076, 2396, Allison, Naya, Ivan, and everyone else where trying to find Bridges, one is to keep him away for a surprise and two is to know where he was, he went missing for 5 hours.

“Now, we can plan a small surprise for him” 076 said.

“How do you remember it was his birthday?” 2396 asked 076.

“Before i killed all the agents of omega we had a birthday party for him, that same day the birthday boy was covered in cake and blood” 076 said.

“That’s a bit dark” Ivan said throwing his cigarettes on the floor.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment” 076 said.

“Well, no sad moments, if we tried making a birthday party there shouldn’t be sad moments” 2396 said.

“Yeah, so lets get to work” Naya said.

Everyone started to plan around, buying a small cake, some small gifts, and booking reservations to get for the small gathering. At 5pm, half of the things were done.

“We are all done” Allison said.

“I guess we can tell Billy or Bridges to come by now” 2396 said.

4840 used his phone to call them

“They are not picking up” Seth said.

“What do you mean they are not answering the phone” 076 said.

~~~

Bridges jumps out of a window with Billy who was clinging onto his arm now mutated arm and side, to protect himself from getting harm. They get in the rough ground, mostly Bridges hitting the ground, and preventing Billy to get hit. A few seconds pass, Bridges looked.

“Billy! Are you okey?” Bridges asked him, touching and moving him with his other hand.

“Yeah, im okey, but…” Billy pause to look at Bridges, covered in blood, glass, and looked at his mutated arm.

“Yeah.. don’t tell anyone” Bridges said in pain, noticing Billy looking at his arm, letting Billy go with his mutated hand and transform his arm into his old purple looking arm and hid it.

“Those that hurt you?” Billy asked him.

“Yeah, i barely tried to control it, i use painkillers, most of the time they work, but not all of the time.” Bridges said.

Billy only looked at the arm and Bridges looked away visible uncomfortable, hiding his arm from him.

“We should head back to the others and.. don’t tell anyone..” Bridges said and Billy just noddedz

Billy and Bridges came back, still holding his grip onto him, they were covered in blood although unbothered by it.

Billy guides Bridges to where the rest of the other were at, instead of taking a long way and hoping Bridges doesn’t notice it.

“Happy Birthday Bridges!” Everyone yelled, Bridges closed his ears from the noise.

“Wow, Billy i didn’t know it was your birthday” Bridges said.

“Are you deaf? We said Bridges no Billy” 4840 said.

“Oh my bad” Bridges said.

“But its not my birthday”

“Its October 14, you a Juggalo, don’t you remember you share birthday with Shaggy and the 076 incident was also on your birthday”

Bridges started thinking, his head was on the air.

Bridges and Billy looked at each other.

“Sooo…. Question. Where those agents trying to kill me stage or should we worry?”

“Agents?!” Allison yelled eyes wide open.

Then an explosion happen.

~~~

“Grandpa… what are you doing?” Asked Billy, slowly waking up and coughing up as he saw Bridges smoking.

“Protecting you, Silly” He responded with the Cigarette on his mouth.

“What” Billy said and he felt the heat of the fire behind him. He turns to see it, there were multiple people on the ground and a strange man in a suit, he was the source of the heat, this guy was floating, twisting his head.

“Bridges what’s going on?” Billy said looking back at Bridges he looked strange, he was glowing, but also visibly blurry, that’s the last thing he saw before passing out.

____

The end.

I might continue this or nah, this isn’t much canon, but oh well XD.

Happy birthday to me.

@nayafenix15

[mlobsters]

supernatural s14e20 moriah (w. andrew dabb)

dads fighting over killing their kid, sammy stressed. what a world

(jfc when jdm/john is talking in the recap i'm like godDAMN whose voice is he reminding of - oh right, i talked about this already when watching that very episode -_- good voice 10/10 both actors)

i wonder how far back it goes that they showed people getting their heads chopped off to the line "Lay your weary head to rest" in carry on my wayward song because i remember this song used to hit me in the feelings way back when (mentioned it still working for me in 6x22 at least.) anyway, i am also very literal with song lyrics and my little fanvids so i can't really criticize but tone 🤌

CASTIEL You should never have tried to lock him away. DEAN You know what? You're right. I never wanted to put him in that damn box. I wanted him dead. CASTIEL Dean. DEAN He's dangerous, Cas, and you knew it! You've known it for a long time! But that's okay. You know why? Because me and Sam, we've killed just about everything there is. And this -- Jack -- oh, we'll find a way. Because he's just another monster. CASTIEL You don't mean that. DEAN The hell I don't.

sigh, this is frustrating! but we gotta have conflict somewhere right, so dean's taking out is hurt and grief over mary on jack, making choices that are making jack worse. and now hellbent on killing him without taking any time to try to work the problem in another way

DEAN I don't know. Maybe we call Rowena, see if she can put together one of those, um, "soul bombs." SAM The...thing you were gonna use against the Darkness? DEAN Yeah, might actually put a dent in the kid. SAM Okay. (quietly) DEAN Sam, I know this isn't easy, okay? He -- I know how much he meant to you. He meant a lot to me. He was family. But this? This is not Jack anymore. He's hurting, he's killing people. This isn't gonna be easy, but we're gonna have to do the hard thing. We're gonna have to do the ugly thing. Ain't like it's the first time, though, right?

was he raring to kills cas when he killed all those people and angels when fake god juiced up on souls?

apparently yes! clearly forgot about that

wiki summary excerpt from 7x01 The ritual is successful, and Death appears, bound. He thinks that he has been summoned regarding Sam's hallucinations, and Dean looks to Sam, surprised by the news. Death asserts that he can't help Sam (there's only "one wall per customer"), and Dean tells him instead that they want him to kill Castiel. Before they can convince him, though, Castiel appears. He threatens to kill them all, but Dean reminds him that Death is under their control. It appears that they are at a stalemate.

ok, so is this truth spell business from jack everywhere? fic premise-y. and mirror universe for the company name, okay.

SAM You. Come on, man. You're always calling me a geek, but you know every word to every Led Zeppelin song -- backwards and forwards -- you can discuss in detail every major rock drummer between '67 and '84, and... you watch "Jeopardy!" every night.

not to mention nerding out over horror films, cars, etc etc. we are all but nerds in our own special ways

like, we're really going for truth spell gags here? what'd i say about tone? lol

well. stapler queen is cute

pretty place to film and nice shot. didn't expect chuck but knew he had to come around eventually. i do really enjoy rob benedict though. he's so good at being that chill aw shucks persona that chuck usually is. like hey what a nice smile, good to see him! wait, he's the absent-est of fathers and lets the world nearly implode on a regular basis

DEAN Yeah, guess your life isn't so perfect after all, EightPackMommy. SAM What? DEAN Yeah, she's got this blog. Yeah, you know what? Your kids aren't that cute. And that gluten-free popover looks like crap because there's no gluten in it. You know what I mean? I'll stop talking. SAM Probably a good plan.

hope we get better truth spell anecdotes than dean follows a mommy blogger (nope.) also are we really supposed to just take on this info that sam's favorite singer is actually celine dion? :p

cathartic until god yells at you

CHUCK Okay, look. I get it. All right, I'm from the deus from the machina, and you have questions.

all very twee

CHUCK: Listen, you guys know me. I'm hands-off. I built the sandbox -- you play in it. You want to fight Leviathans? Cool. You got that. You want to go up against -- what was it? -- the "British Men of Letters"? Okay. Little weak, but okay. But when things get really bad, like the Apocalypse or the Other Apocalypse, that's when I have to step in.

i will always appreciate a roast of the bmol plotline

SAM So you're saying Jack is Apocalyptic? CHUCK The kid said, "Stop lying," and I don't know if you noticed, but the world kinda went insane.

the whole crazy powered up nephilim actually equates to god powers, sure

lol what. the colt 2.0 but actually kills anything

CHUCK So, this doesn't so much fire bullets as it sends a wave of multi-dimensional energy across a perfectly balanced quantum link between whoever's shooting it and whoever they're shooting at.

this is giving very crack treated seriously (or just plain crack) vibes

CHUCK Uh, whatever happens to the person you're aiming at also happens to you. So you kill him... DEAN You die.

🙄okay.

CAS I don't understand why we're talking about killing Jack. Y-You can fix him. You can --You can restore his soul. That's why I called you. CHUCK Yeah, not so much. SAM You're God. CHUCK Well, souls are complicated -- even for me. Besides, even if I could, would you really want -- I mean, after what he did? CASTIEL Then we bind him. We throw him in the Cage until -- DEAN Stop, Cas. You heard him. This is the only way. CAS And Billie said the only way to defeat Michael was to lock you in a box. CHUCK Ugh. Billie. I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle porn. This new Death -- she's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. CAS There has to be another way. DEAN Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself that this is the only thing that can kill Jack, so either get on board, or walk away.

i think part of why i'm finally warming up to cas is him consistently caring about someone - like, willing to go to the mat with anyone for jack. and there's less of this bumbling clueless angel schtick periodically thrown in.

and something again i don't like is when anyone does this shut up there's no other way it's my way or the highway business. i feel like i talked about this before... maybe with the soul bomb business? and probably the box too? rushing into deadly action that can't be walked back with almost no information. which i compared to agonizing over how to deal with lucifer all season in s5 and finally accepting sam going into the cage was the only viable option left. there's just so many plot beats and so much going on at one time. and then dean rushes into shit and i'm just like STOP BREATHE WAIT.

hopefully not plot relevant flask filling, unlike last time we saw him do it (that i recall) in 7x18

music (lennertz and wynn) at the beginning reminds me a bit of hannibal bloodfest again, the muted version that was in 14x08 when jack had died from the heavenly tuberculosis

glad sam is standing up to dean's willingness to again sacrifice himself at the drop of a hat and point out they haven't even tried to fix anything, just rushing into these awful solutions. and pointing out that they got themselves into this situation in the first place by bringing jack back. (and hey, maybe consider chuck's motivations in all this)

not a great hug but way less creepy than hugging soulless sam at least. glad he didn't actually kill his grandmother and has calmed down a bit and acknowledged he's not feeling anything anymore

CHUCK No. Sam... you and your brother, of all the Sams and Deans in all the multiverse, you're my favorite. You're just so interesting. I mean, like that thing that happened at the office earlier today -- that was crazy, right? SAM Do you watch us? When you're not here, are -- are you... watching us? CHUCK Yeah. I mean, you're my favorite show.

creeper asshole. what new way can we make them suffer today

SAM Wait a second. Why, when the chips are down, when the world is -- is failing, why does it always have to be on us?! CHUCK Because you're my guys.

good to see sam yelling at chuck about it.

sigh

like this really is soul bomb 2.0 (i was not a fan). some half cocked plan with new random made up weapon that gets introduced mid episode in the season finale that will result in dean dying to kill some almost-impossible to kill god type entity. not making me cry this time, bitches

padalecki got to phoebe-run through the park yelling for dean for an extended period of time, that was something

CHUCK This isn't how the story is supposed to end. CAS The story? CHUCK Lookit, the -- the -- the gathering storm, the gun, the -- the father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic! DEAN Wait. What are you saying? SAM He's saying he's been playing us. This whole time. CHUCK Come on. SAM Our entire lives. Mom, Dad -- everything. This is all you because you wrote it all, right? Because -- Because what? Because we're your favorite show? Because we're part of your story? CHUCK Okay, Dean, no offense, but your brother is stupid and crazy. And that kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun. Pick it up... pull the trigger... and I'll bring her back. Your mom. DEAN No. My mom was my hero. And I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this. And it's not like you even really care. 'Cause Sam's right. The Apocalypse, the first go-around, with Lucifer and Michael -- you knew everything that was going on, so why the games, Chuck, huh? Why don't You just snap your fingers and end it?! CHUCK Look, I -- SAM And every other bad thing we've been killing, been dying over -- where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer so we can do this over and over and over again -- fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me. CHUCK Dean, don't do this. DEAN No, we're done talking. 'Cause this -- this isn't just a story. It's our lives! So God or no God, you go to hell.

it feels kind of bonkers that they're just now getting clued into the conceit that all the suffering and misery and death they've been through has been at chuck's direction

surely the god-killing gun doesn't actually work on chuck. there's been a couple weird cuts for ads in the past season or two - where they repeat some action/dialogue after a cut for an ad. which is so weird, they never did that before.

looks like the bandana dean was using for sam's woulda-been-fatal head wound few episodes ago

spn 14x17

so jack's in the empty... and billie is there. okaayyy

resurrecting all the monsters they killed or whatever this is, sure. an extremely long shot of shambling zombies. did they need to kill time (i thought the cut to billie was the end of the episode and almost just skipped the last several minutes 🥴)

one season left to go. makes me think about how jared and jensen periodically talk about reviving the show but like. The Show was so out of ideas and things just got more and more convoluted and outlandish, what is there even left to do? other than some timeline reset but when they're older. or like apparently the winchesters, whole new au.

and despite how critical i am of the show, i'm still invested and care about sam and dean. so i'd watch whatever sam and dean show they might make. but i'm still gonna be critical :p i have avoided reading other people's opinions on any of the show i haven't seen so whatever criticism i'm spewing out is just my reaction as i watch

[ordinaryschmuck]

Sneak Peek of Chapter 3 of La Asombrosa Arácnida

"Here you go, Sammy," I said to an actual street performer who sat outside a sandwich shop called Sal's Subs. Sammy always sat by this place, strumming on his guitar and getting a fair amount of attention with his talent, but not enough change for his music. So, if anyone deserved a twenty deposited into his guitar case, it was Sammy.

"Thanks, Aracnida!" Sammy exclaimed, ignoring the accent mark, but I gave him a pass on it. "Oh, and check it: I'm totally making headways on your theme song!"

"Oh, that's not--"

"Aracnida~! Aracnida~!" He belts out, strumming his guitar. "Does her best for me and for ya~!"

"That's really--"

"Makes a web of any scale~! Catches thieves, just like...Ah, dang it." Sammy set down his guitar with disappointment. "Ok, The lyrics need fine-tuning, but I'm telling you, that song will be a hit!"

"I'm...sure it will." I gave him two thumbs up and felt extra grateful that my mask hid my unsure grimace.

"I'm gonna hit you in a minute!" A new voice screamed. Out came Sal, owner of the shop, holding up a broom menacingly. By the sight of him, Sammy scrambled to grab his guitar and his case full of--I think--twenty-eight dollars and started running.

"I told you to stop coming here and ruining my business, you hippy! And you!" Sal glared at me, gripping his broom tight. "Give me one good reason not to smack you for encouraging that freak?"

"Because I can easily snap that broom of yours in half," I retorted, planting a hand on my hip. Sal squinted at me, keeping his anger stagnant...before belting out a laugh as he set the broom aside.

"I almost got you, right?" he said between laughs. "Come on, admit it."

"Not even close." I grinned under the mask. "Though it's cute that you think a broom would have stopped me."

"Eh, it's better than nothing. I mean, I still remember how you dealt with that thug who went with a punch, the poor bastard."

"He had that coming. You and I both know it."

"Oh, absolutely."

Just then, an older woman with gray hair and a tray of cookies came out, smiling at me.

"Pensé que era tu voz," She said. And, yes, that's Spanish. Google is your friend. If you want her to learn your language, the least you can do is learn hers. "Es tan bueno verte de nuevo, querida. ¿Quieres una galleta? Son frescos."

"Mamá, tus galletas son para clientes que pagan," Sal complained, only to get lightly swatted by his mother.

"Salvador, esta joven impidió que un ladrón dañara nuestro negocio y a tu esposa. Ella merece una galleta gratis, al menos."

"Gracias, Sra. Vocahnan," I finally spoke up. "Pero no es necesario."

"¡Disparates! Aquí." She took a cookie off the tray and handed it over. "Insisto."

"...Bueno si insistes." I take the cookie and roll up my mask just enough so I can take a bite out of it. Just then, I started to hear some familiar vibrations and went to pull out my phone.

'No way it was five-thirty already...' was my first thought. Turns out, it was just Vee calling me.

"Me tengo que ir." I shot a web to a building and zipped myself up into the air. "¡Gracias de nuevo por la galleta!"

(Also, if someone could be a friend and check the Spanish on this one, I would greatly appreciate it.)

[heaven-s-black-box]

I need a Hero pt.3- destiel

Return to File

Recovery date: December 1st, 2021

Description: Cas is banished from Heaven and place into a coma in a ring of fire. He can only be awaken if a hero crosses and cuts open his armor including his mask. Cas believes he will remain there until the apocalypse. However such a hero in the form of Dean does come and free him. Upon seeing Dean Cas professes his love onto him and Dean happily requites. But when Dean comes home to announce his new love his father, John, is outraged. He tricks Dean into drinking potion that not only erases his memories of Cas but also has him fall in love with a according to John a more suitable princess.

Notes: Recovered in conjunction with CoralQueen from research lab Ao3, we thank them for their contribution. The other entries can be found here, here, here, and here.

Word count: 851

Back to directory

“Has anyone seen my brother?” Sam asked, as he entered the kitchen.

Dean had been missing all morning. He was supposed to go get Cas this morning, and they would discuss what to do with the demons. But he hadn’t shown, and he wasn’t in his room or the dungeon. So he obviously had to be snacking in the kitchen, where else would he be at nine in the morning.

“No my lord,” the chef said.

“Does anyone know where he could be?” Sam sighed. It wasn’t like Dean to vanish without telling him.

“Perhaps he is with his highness? I believe they had something to discuss.”

“Thank you!” He called, running back out towards the stairwell.

Sam’s day had started at seven, with the usual breakfast and reading. It wasn’t until seven thirty, and Dean’s lack of yelling, that made him check on his brother. His bed was empty, and messy, which wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t so early. Dean despised being up before nine unless there were pressing matters to attend to, and even then. So, Sam assumed he had gone to get Cas from Ellen’s and let it be.

Until Jo requested to speak with him, not even an hour later. Dean had not been by to see Cas, and no one in town had even seen him. And so began the hunt for Dean.

“Sammy!”

Sam stopped, and turned to see Dean running from across the garden with a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Dean! Where have you been?”

“Meeting the love of my life.”

Sam choked on his own spit, and did a double take.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“You’ve gotta come meet her.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and dragged him towards the mezzanine in the center of the garden.

“What about Cas?” Sam hissed, keeping his voice quiet.

“Who?”

“Dean, who is this?” A lady with bright red hair asked. Sam recognized her as the princess of Haven.

“This is my brother, Sam.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I’m assuming he’ll be your best man?” She giggled. 

“Wait, you’re getting married? Since when?” Sam whispered. Dean ignored him.

Sam definitely didn’t like this woman, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she must’ve used some kind of spell or he just didn’t like her. But either way, something was wrong.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dean said, slinging his arm around Sam’s shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Sam plastered on a smile.

“Well, we should go out to celebrate tonight. I’m sure the others would love to hear the news,” Sam suggested. 

If this was a spell or potion, maybe Cas could do something. 

---

“Ah,” Anna said, “isn’t this place a little…”

Sam knew what she was implying. That it was too plain and simple for the crown prince and his younger brother to be spending their time in. Sam swore he saw Dean frown, but it was small and brief.

“Nonsense. They have the best ale in the kingdom, you have my word,” Dean said, and bent down to kiss Anna’s cheek.

As they entered the tavern, Sam tried to think what spell Dean could be under. At first, he’d thought it was a simple love position, however that doesn’t explain why he didn’t seem to remember Cas. If Cas couldn’t help, they’d have to go to Rowena.

“Sam! Dean!” Jo called from behind the bar. Her eyes drifted to Anna, and her brows furrowed in confusion. “Who’s this?”

Before Sam could answer, Dean spoke.

“My fiance, Anna.”

Jo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh… When did that happen?”

“Excuse us please,” Sam cut in before the situation could get worse. He waved for Jo to follow him into the back. “We won’t be long, take a seat.”

“Sam, I can’t leav-”

“Two minutes.”

As soon as the door to the store room closed, he turned to Jo.

“Where’s Cas?”

“My mom asked him to help her bring in a shipment from the docks, he’ll be back soon. Now, Dean’s getting married?!” Her whisper rose a few pitches as she asked.

Dean had always been incredibly stubborn about marrying someone. Lebanon had never needed an alliance, so it had never been an issue. And Dean’s reluctance to marry had always spawned new, more permanent solutions. But Dean knew where his duty lay, and wouldn’t fight his father if marriage was the only course of action.

“Yes. Well, no. I think it’s some kind of love potion.”

“You think?”

“I don’t need your sass, I need Cas. Maybe he can help,” Sam hissed.

“How? True love’s kiss?”

“Wha- Wait, how did you know about that?”

“Holy,” Jo muffled a laugh, “ I wasn’t serious. Dean loves Cas?”

“What? No. Actually, I don’t know, this is Dean we’re talking about. I thought you meant Cas was in love with Dean.”

“Oh, well that one’s obvious. He never shuts up abou-”

From the main bar, they could hear the front door open.

“Hello Dean, who is this?”

“I’ll talk to Cas, you try to figure Dean out?” Jo suggested as they listened to Dean introduce Anna.

“Alright.”

[fighterkimburgess]

Good At This

Summary: Adam Ruzek has the girl, and a daughter. His worries about not being enough are mostly in the past. But when he comes out for breakfast and sees his daughter wearing the one piece of his mentor he has left, he and Kim get to share parts of the man who helped them become who they are with her. With thanks to @sylvies-chen because this is so much from Abby.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Bob Ruzek’s A+ Parenting, mentions of a not-so-great childhood

—

Living in his childhood home again was a lot easier than Adam had ever expected. He’d thought that it would be tough to be faced with the memories of his parents marriage breaking down, of his stepmom moving in - and moving out with yelling. Of finding his dad’s blood pooled on the floor there. Seeing that every morning might kill him, but it was worth it to keep their daughter safe and happy.

But instead of all of that it was a home, his old swing set in the back yard getting fixed whenever he had a few spare hours so Mack could attempt to do a loop the loop. He tripped over her toys in the living room, reminding her with a look and soft words to pick them up. There were nights where he sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between he and Kim as they watched her put on a new show for them.

Adam was getting to raise his daughter to be happy and healthy, giving her the new, wonderful memories that he’d always wanted. Replacing the ones of shouting parents he had with joy and laughter when they went over old photos from his childhood and she chuckled at how he looked as a baby. When she finally met Sammy, all two years her older and they played soccer in the back yard in the goals he and Kate had played in. His name was going on her new birth certificate, the agreement he and Kim had come to - after Mack had final approval - that she’d be a Burgess but he got to be her legal father. How could he ever complain about that?

And then at night, in the bed they’d brought from Kim’s old apartment, he got to curl up with her in his arms. She was the last face he saw at night and usually the first he saw in the morning. It was work - a lot of hard work - but he got to be a dad and love Kim and be loved by her and Mack so he was delighted to do it.

Thankfully this Saturday was their DO, and he had plans to finish reinforcing the woodwork on the swings, the two by fours waiting in the shed for him. Once that was done it was a couple of coats of wood varnish and the set was ready for Mack to start playing on. She’d already talked to them about asking a girl from her class to come over after school, and he wanted to make sure it was ready for her first official play date. Adam finished dressing in clothes he didn’t mind getting dirty, coming out and down the steps to the scent of pancakes when he stopped dead on the last step to watch Kim and Mack. There were three plates ready on the table, but Makayla was wearing an oh too familiar grey and brown flannel. It swamped her tiny frame, the shoulders reaching down nearly to her elbows, despite her recent growth spurt.

”Hey Kim?” His voice was slightly strangled as his girlfriend - the word never failing to make him smile - turned to him. “Where’d you get that shirt for Mack?”

”Laundry. It looked clean enough, someone spilled syrup on herself. Is it ok?” Kim ran her hands over their daughter’s hair and Adam just smiled, blinking back his emotions.

”Yeah. It was Al’s.”

“I didn’t…” She trailed off and came over to hug him, the pressure firm between the two. His fourth anniversary had come and gone, and it would soon reach the point where he was gone for longer than he’d been in Adam’s life. That he was gone too soon still hurt so much.

”Who’s Al?” It was Mack who interrupted his thoughts, calling over to them as she pulled the two long sleeves up to reveal her hands. The pancakes on her plate were in the middle of a syrup lake, the sticky sauce dripping onto the table. When he was a kid that would have led to yelling from his dad, the kind that made him afraid to say or do anything for the rest of the day. Instead he and Kim wiped up the mess and put some paper towels down before sitting down. It was syrup, it could be cleaned. His daughter’s happiness was more important.

”He…” Kim trailed off and Adam looked at her, his foot hooking around her ankle for comfort. How did he explain who Al had been to them? How did he say it without talking about the danger they’d been in that Al had helped with?

”We used to work with him. He was a good cop, and he helped me get my head out of my ass about Kim. I’ll show you a photo when we finish breakfast, ok?”

It was jokes during the meal, Makayla insisting that she hadn’t poured too much sugar on her breakfast. Even Kim laughed at her antics as the sugar rush set in, giving Adam a syrup sweet kiss. He pulled up a photo of Al on his phone to show Mack, the seven year old nodding seriously as he did before disappearing to her room to read.

The thoughts of Al were in the back of his mind all day, but it was the kind of warm summer day that he could get his chore list done. The final nails went into the swings, a first coat of varnish on so Mack could get on them in a couple of days. While he was out in the sun he got the lawnmower out to trim the grass that had sprouted up high in the last week. Kim had started a veggie patch in the corner of the garden that was flourishing, bright yellow flowers turning to tomatoes, peppers, and beans. Once he finished mowing it got added to the compost pile and he laughed at just how domestic his life had become. And he wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

Their Saturday night routine involved getting either Chinese food or pizza and watching a movie, the three of them eating from the couch. That evening it was deep dish and the AC blew towards them to make the high temperatures a little more bearable. He’d watched Moana more in the last year than he ever thought he’d have watched it in his life, but this was his life and it was pretty much perfect. There was nearly nothing he’d change in it, his daughter and his girl in his arms.

“Adam? Can you tell me about Al?” Mack was quiet between them as the movie ended, looking up at him. She’d changed into pjs after her shower, curled up between the two.

“What do you want to know?” Kim was also quiet beside him, the two waiting to go with what their daughter wanted.

“Just about him. You looked sad earlier. Do you miss him?”

“Yeah, I do. I miss him a lot.” He swallowed, Kim squeezing his arm in comfort before he spoke. “Al’s the guy who helped me start working in Intelligence. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have met Kim, and we wouldn’t have been there that day when we found you. Wanna know one of the first times I hung out with him?”

“Yeah!” The thoughts of another movie were abandoned as a little girl stared up at him with love and wide eyes.

“It was a couple of weeks after I started, and I didn’t know if I was doing a good job. You know when you’re not sure, but you’re afraid to ask in case you’re not doing good?” She nodded, curling in against him more. “It was like that. But I was out with Al and a friend, and my friend asked Al how I was doing in work. He said I was better than he was when he started being a cop. That meant a lot.”

“You made me feel safe when you found me.” She never really talked about that day with them, more giving oblique references to her life before with her Mommy rather than talking about it. “I was scared but you looked after me. You make me safe.”

“That’s what we’re here for, kiddo. Always gonna do that. And now, it’s bedtime. Who do you want a story from?”

“Both of you?”

They knew that soon she’d be too old to get a bedtime story, that at seven and three quarters most kids would have stopped by now. But while Makayla asked them for a story they would gladly give it to get to spend more time with their girl.

She crawled into the middle of the bed, Adam on one side and Kim on the other as Kim pulled out the Ramona Quimby book they were on. Before she could start Makayla took her hand, closing the book.

“Will you tell me one of your stories about Al?”

“Yeah…sure…” It was clear to him that Kim wasn’t sure what to choose, but she swallowed and nodded, the three curled up in their little bubble.

“A couple of years ago my sister was sick, so I had to take time off work to help her out. She’s fine now, but she needed me then. It was my first day back and it was a tough case, and a man came up to ask what we were doing about it. He called me some names, acting like I didn’t know what I was doing—“

“But you’re a good cop!” Mack interjected, making Kim smile and Adam laugh.

“Kim is the best cop, Mack. The best. Trust me.” He waggled his eyebrows to make his girls giggle, Kim shushing him so she could continue.

“Well I know that now. But sometimes when you come back to something after being away for a while you think you’re wrong, that you can’t do the thing. That’s how I was feeling. But Al stuck up for me, he made sure I knew just how good a cop I am and how good I am at helping people. It’s part of why I’m still one.” Their daughter’s smile was luminous, snuggling under the sheet she used in the heat.

“He sounds good. I wish I got to meet him.”

“So do I,” Adam murmured, kissing her forehead and helping tuck her in. Her platypus was tucked under her arm by Kim before she kissed their daughter goodnight, the nightlight going on as they took one last look behind them before closing the door.

“Beer?” Kim asked, Adam nodding immediately. She pulled out a pilsner and passed it over, the two sitting on the couch with the popcorn abandoned, tv automatically switched off.

“I think he’d be proud of us, y’know?” Adam began, taking a long drink before continuing. “Communicating, raising a kid together, in a relationship? He kept telling me we needed to get our shit together, that he knew we were meant for each other.”

“He never said that to me.” Kim was quiet, staring at her bottle. “For so long I thought he didn’t like me. I thought he’d hate us back together.”

“He loved you like his own, Kim. I went to his grave when you told me about the baby, asked him for advice. I asked him to look after them after we lost them.”

It was a comfortable silence, each taking sips for a few moments before Kim broke it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on us.”

Burzek Taglist: @aruzlover @morganupstead @adamruz @fullwattpadmusictree @redpoodlern @everythingaddictxx @write4life13 @jeanjacketjesus @tuxieboy101-blog @thelittlepterophyllum @planecrazylex @sophiatellerrhodes @ossypooh @kimburgess-ruzek @thestarrynightslover @reidskitty13 @etamne @torreshalstead @itsnotpersonalbut @kellykidd @dedlund82 @pinkwhitebrown @mmacke3613 @upsteadlovingheart @ittybitty-tittycommittee @takemetooneverlanddd @oracle23 @thedefinitionofendgame @burzekwater @butterflylies @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @withakindheartx @bebataylor84 @whoiamwhoistrivetobe @multicouple-lover @keenmarvellover

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 4 - Secrets

Title: “Messy”

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3,503

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Original Characters

Tags: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst, Breaking The Rules, Dean is Sam's Real Parent (But he shouldn't have to be), Dean Giving Sam a Childhood, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Meets a Cute Boy, Unwanted Haircut, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dean is 13 and Sam is 9

Summary: John leaves Dean and Sam alone at a motel the day before Halloween. Despite John's hard-and-fast rules about leaving the motel room, Sam convinces Dean to take him trick-or-treating. While they're out, Dean meets a boy who makes him feel like breaking the rules was worth it.

On AO3 Here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, you know the drill,” John says brusquely as he hoists the duffel over his shoulder. “Tell me the rules.”

Dean stands up from where he’s folding laundry on the motel room floor. They stopped at the laundromat this morning, John tossing Dean just enough quarters for two small loads before taking Sam along with him to the local library for research. They’ve been tracking a creature for days and John’s still not sure exactly what it is.

Dean would have loved to help with the books. Instead he sat in front of the laundry machine, exactly the same as the hundreds of others he’s fed with quarters over the years, and watched their clothes spin around and around. He noticed new holes in Sam’s jeans and socks when he moved them to the dryer. If his dad will let him use some of their wound-stitching thread, he’ll repair them after this hunt.

He faces his dad, posture straight and hands behind his back. “The rules are stay in the room, keep the doors and windows locked, don’t answer the door for anyone except you and Bobby, only spend money if I absolutely have to, and always have a weapon in reach,” he rattles off.

John nods, face impassive. “And the most important rule?”

“Protect Sammy,” Dean says firmly. He glances over to the rickety table under the window, where his scrawny little brother is filling out a worksheet. It’s part of the last round of homework their teachers had given them at their previous school, right before John took them out again to hit the road.

Dean quietly tossed his own homework in the garbage and told Sammy to finish every worksheet, because he was going to mail it back to the school and his teacher would check it. Sam’s even writing a letter in the cursive he’s learning to go along with it.

Dean has no clue what the address of the school is.

John pulls the Impala key out of his pocket and opens the door. “I’ll be out of cell range during this next leg. Check in date is Thursday. Don’t call for help until Sunday.”

Dean nods. John steps halfway out the door before turning back. He eyes Dean for a long moment, as if he’s trying to come up with something to add. Eventually he just says “I’m cutting your hair when I get back. You look messy.”

The door closes. In the silence of the room, Dean reaches up and touches his bangs. Just this morning, in the reflection of the washing machine door, he admired how his hair was curling a bit over his ears. It framed his face and made him look softer. Less skinny. More like the other boys he’d seen at school.

Oh well.

The Impala roars to life outside in the parking lot, and Dean listens until the purr of the engine fades away down the road. He looks at the half-folded pile of laundry at his feet.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

Dean jumps a little. Sam’s right next to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dean pushes him away and drops onto the couch, nudging a balled-up pair of socks with his foot. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

Sam sits down next to him. “Dean, I think Dad forgot about Halloween.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “He didn’t forget, Sammy. It just doesn’t matter.” He avoids looking at his brother, running his fingers over the ridge of threads barely holding together the hole in his own jeans.

“But I told James I’d be a doctor,” Sam needles. “He’s gonna be a pirate.”

Sam’s ability to instantly make friends always leaves Dean feeling half-proud, half-nervous. Sam was in third grade with James for less than two weeks, and he still talks about him constantly.

Dean thinks it’s better not to get attached. He just can’t bring himself to teach Sam that particular lesson yet.

He sighs and glances at Sam. “You know you can’t trick-or-treat with James anyway, right? He’s in Denver.”

Sam groans dramatically and flops against the hard backrest of the couch. His shaggy hair falls into his face. Dean looks at the longest strands, curving past Sam’s cheekbones.

“We can just do Halloween here,” he suggests, even though he knows “buying candy from the gas station” definitely doesn’t count as necessary spending.

Sam shakes his head where it’s still resting on the couch. “That’s not real Halloween.”

“We’ve never done a real Halloween, so how would you know?” Dean’s just buying time now, putting off the moment when he has to say “no.”

The stink-eye that’s sent his way is of epic proportions. “I watch TV, Dean.”

Dean rubs his face. “Sammy--”

“--Oh, please, Dean, please!” Sam shifts into begging mode, sitting up and whipping out the puppy eyes. His left eye is half-covered by hair. “I know we’re not allowed, but can’t we break the rules just one time? It can be a secret.”

They hold eye contact for a moment, but Sam’s more stubborn. Dean looks away first, his eyes falling to the laundry on the floor. Almost unconsciously, he reaches under the lumpy couch cushion next to him and lets his fingers graze the pistol stashed there. His stomach rumbles and he wonders how far he can stretch their last cans of soup.

Suddenly, a secret doesn’t sound so bad at all.

“Okay,” he says.

Sam must’ve not expected Dean to relent, because he’s silent for a couple seconds before whooping and launching himself at Dean. “Ahh! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Dean can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He hugs Sam back, the kid’s bony shoulder digging into his ribcage. After a moment, he pulls away and puts on his most serious face. Hands on Sam’s upper arms, he looks him straight in the eyes. “Sam, if we do this, you cannot tell Dad. Do you understand?”

Sam nods enthusiastically, still grinning. Dean digs his fingers into his arms. “Listen to me, or we’re not going.” He waits for Sam’s face to fall a little before continuing. “You can’t just not tell Dad, you can’t drop hints. You have to clean up all your wrappers. We can never talk about it. Do you get it?”

Sam’s eyes are wide now. He nods again, very small, and Dean knows he’s gotten through. He loosens his grip on Sam’s arms. “All right, then. How are we gonna make you look like a doctor?”

Sam beams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, they lock the motel room door behind them and head out. The neighborhood that starts a few streets behind the motel is pretty normal, as far as Dean can tell. The houses aren’t super big, but the yards are, and there are toys scattered on some of the lawns. The biggest house on the corner even has a tree swing. The big tree reminds him of the one in their front yard in Lawrence. He tries not to think about that too much.

It’s dark, and chilly -- they’re still in Colorado -- and Dean holds his jacket closed in front of his chest. The zipper broke a couple weeks ago. Ahead of him, Sam doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. His “doctor coat” flaps behind his legs as he skips down the sidewalk. It’s just a sheet from the bed that Dean stuck together with safety pins in a certain way (it doesn’t look like a coat at all, but the mirror in the motel bathroom was shattered so Sam couldn’t see it anyway). He hung their stethoscope from the big first-aid kit around Sam’s neck, with the express instruction not to lose it, and he emptied the rest of the first-aid kit onto the couch so Sam could carry the empty box with the big red cross and look professional.

Sam hasn’t smiled this much in weeks. Dean’s neck is crawling with the knowledge that he’s breaking rules, bigtime, but he shakes it off. They’re out now. It’s done.

Sam has already latched on to a group of kids making their way up the drive to a single-story brick house. Dean hears him introduce himself, sees him flash the big toothy smile that Dean told him makes him look friendly. The other kids compliment his stethoscope, and Dean relaxes a little.

Everyone in the group is wearing what looks like homemade costumes, too — there’s another bedsheet, draped over a short kid’s head like a ghost (if only ghosts actually looked like that, Dean thinks); and a long black coat, obviously from an adult, dwarfing a kid who Dean’s pretty sure is supposed to be a vampire. Sam, in his makeshift getup, fits right in.

Dean’s trailing behind the group, letting Sam do his making-friends thing, when he notices another older kid doing the same. He looks about Dean’s age, maybe a year older, fourteen or so, and he’s dressed like an angel with a blue halo made out of pipe cleaners. The rest of his outfit is normal, though — a t-shirt that’s printed to look like a suit and tie, under a regular puffy winter coat. Dean’s eyes linger on him as they follow the younger kids up to the house. When they come to a stop so Sam can ring the doorbell, the other boy looks over at Dean, too.

“Hi,” he says. In the yellow glow of the porchlight, his eyes look greenish blue. “I’m Al.” He reaches out a hand. Dean looks at it for a moment, then takes it. They shake. Al’s hand is warm and smooth, a stark contrast to Dean’s freezing, calloused palm. Dean wishes he could hold on a bit longer.

“Dean,” he replies, dropping Al’s hand. He’s not sure what to say next. That’s Sam’s area of expertise.

Luckily, Al doesn’t let him flounder long. “Do you live around here?” he asks, friendly and curious. Dean’s used to hearing that question asked with a thick layer of suspicion, usually out of the mouth of some nosy adult. He still gives his practiced answer, though.

“No, me and my brother are just visiting our grandparents for a couple days.”

Al nods, accepting the lie easily. “I thought I’d never seen you at school.” He points at the sheet-clad ghost. “That’s my sister Katie. She’s seven. It’s the first time our parents are letting me take her trick-or-treating on our own.”

Dean smiles and gestures at Sam, who’s holding the empty first-aid kit out to the homeowner for candy. “That’s Sam. He’s nine. Same deal for us.”

“I like his costume,” Al says. Dean bristles for a moment, until he realizes Al’s being sincere.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like Katie’s too.” He sweeps his eyes over Al again. “Why are you wearing a fake suit with your halo?”

Al looks down at himself and laughs sheepishly, smoothing down the front of his t-shirt. “I wanted to do a toga with a sheet, but it’s way too cold. I just dressed up ‘cause Katie wanted me to. The halo was the quickest thing.”

“It works,” Dean assures him, suddenly wanting Al to feel good about himself. He shuffles his feet a little, kicking at the fallen leaves littering the walkway. Al smiles at him and something grows in Dean’s chest, a warm, glowing ball, making everything feel tight and tingly. He’s not sure what to do with it.

Sam appears at his elbow suddenly, much to Dean’s relief. He ruffles Sam’s hair. “What’d you get?”

Already chewing on something that looks very caramelly as it squishes between his teeth, Sam holds out the first-aid kit. “She gave me two big ones!” he announces around his mouthful. Two full-sized Milky Ways, one already half-unwrapped, slide around in the box.

“Cool,” Dean says. “Don’t get a stomachache.”

“They’re gonna get stomachaches,” Al says ruefully as Sam and Katie bounce down the driveway to hit the next house. “We should steal some of their candy, y’know, just to protect them.”

The word protect briefly jolts Dean out of his growing sense of relaxation and he sneakily pats his chest, feeling the sheathed knife tucked away in the inside pocket. He makes sure he can still see Sammy (now bounding up the walkway of the next house), and takes a breath. Everything’s under control.

“You okay?” Al’s looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together, a lock of dark hair falling into the crease. He has nice hair, Dean decides. Floppy and kind of messy, squished flat in the middle by the band of the pipe cleaner halo.

“Yep,” he says, forcing the cheer into his voice. If Al notices, he doesn’t say anything. They continue to follow their siblings through the neighborhood, leaving some distance so they can talk. Al tells Dean about school, that he likes science and hates history, that his favorite band is Journey, that he wants to play soccer but his dad wants him to play football, and that he wants to be a veterinarian.

“I like cars,” Dean says in response. “I’m not great at school. Not sure what I wanna do when I grow up.”

Not sure how to tell you that I’ll probably be hunting monsters for the rest of my life.

Al leans on the picket fence of the house that they’re currently waiting outside. “You could be a teacher,” he says.

Dean narrows his eyes at him in confusion. “I just told you I’m bad at school.”

Al shrugs. “My favorite teacher says he didn’t like school. That’s why he’s so good at helping us. He gets it.”

The heavy layer of clouds above them breaks, and a ray of moonlight lands across Al’s face. They’re standing between streetlights, so the silvery glow makes Al’s blueish eyes gleam. Dean finds he has to breathe a little harder than normal. He shakes his head.

“Nah, if anyone’s gonna be a teacher, it’s Sammy. He’s really smart.”

Al hums and pushes off the fence. Sam and Katie are moving on again. “I don’t know, man. You seem smart to me.” He pats Dean on the shoulder, the warmth of his hand seeping through Dean’s threadbare jacket.

In the relative darkness, Dean smiles so hard his eyes squeeze shut.

Eventually, they’ve stopped at every house in the neighborhood. Dean’s pockets are full of the candy that doesn’t fit into Sam’s overflowing first-aid kit. Al’s coat pockets are bulging, too. Sam and Katie run sugar-hyped circles under a streetlight while Dean and Al stand on the corner, looking at each other a bit awkwardly.

“Uh-- I’m glad we ran into you guys,” Al says finally. “You’re really cool.”

Dean’s glad that he’s the one facing away from the streetlight, because his cheeks heat up and probably look way pinker than they would from just the cold.

“You too,” he says. “Wish we lived around here.”

“Where do you live?” Al asks. “You know, just in case we ever take a road trip.”

Unless your destination’s my dad’s car, I don’t think you’re gonna run into me.

“Sioux Falls,” he says. “South Dakota. I live with my uncle.”

If Al finds that strange, he doesn’t pry. Dean could hug him. He wants to hug him.

Katie comes barrelling over, dragging her pillowcase of candy along the pavement. She’s huffing from running around, ghost sheet dangling half off her body. “Al, I’m soooo tired.” She flops against her brother. Sam comes trotting up behind her and grins at Dean. Dean tries to smile back, but there’s a lump in his throat, something that’s making it hard to breathe.

Al pats Katie on the head. “We should probably go home, anyway. It’s getting late.”

Still taking tight little breaths, Dean nods. “Uh-- yeah, us too. See if Sam can sleep off the sugar rush.”

“How long are you staying with your grandparents?” Al asks.

Dean looks at his feet. Weighs the pros and cons of sneaking out again. He’d have to take Sam; there aren’t actually any grandparents who could watch him.

He can’t risk it.

“We’re going home tomorrow morning,” he says, every word dropping like lead. Sam shoots him a confused look, but he ignores it.

Unless he’s imagining it, Al’s face seems to fall. “Aw, too bad. Wait! Hang on.” He rummages through his candy-heavy pockets until he pulls out a little spiral notebook and a nub of a pencil. He writes something on a page and rips it out. He hands it to Dean.

“Our phone number,” he says with a little smile. He steps forward and the streetlight catches his eyes again. Dean thinks that in the sunlight, they’d be bright blue. Al gestures at the paper. “You’ve got a phone at your uncle’s, right? Maybe you can call me sometime.”

There are way too many feelings jumbling around in Dean’s chest for him to say anything coherent, so he just nods. Al smiles wider. “Cool. I’m happy we met you.” He takes one more step forward and — Dean stops breathing altogether — wraps his arms briefly around Dean’s shoulders. He’s very warm. His hair smells good. Dean’s brain doesn’t catch up quite in time, and he misses his chance to hug back. The edge of Al’s halo brushes Dean’s forehead as he pulls away.

“Thanks for hanging out,” Al says, putting his arm around Katie’s shoulders and turning to go. “Have a good drive back home!”

Dean clears his throat. “Bye, guys,” he says lamely. Sam waves enthusiastically to make up for it. They stand under the streetlight for a long few minutes, watching Al and Katie go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam manages to eat every piece of candy by Thursday morning, which is the day they’re supposed to hear from John. Dean makes him eat canned vegetable soup in between meals of Mars bars and Skittles. They scrounge the motel room for wrappers, tossing them all into a big garbage bag that Dean’s going to throw into the dumpster outside. He finishes folding the laundry, counts the money to make sure it’s all there, re-packs the first aid kit, and puts the sheet back on the bed without the safety pins.

Anytime the unease creeps in about having broken the rules, he looks at his brother’s shining face and pushes it back down. He and Sam rehearse their story in case John asks them what they did and Sam even finishes all of his worksheets. Dean folds them up and hides them at the very bottom of his duffle. He tells Sam he put them into the mailbox in the motel office.

And every few hours, he pulls the folded little piece of notebook paper out of his pocket and looks at it. In careful handwriting, Al had written:

Alan Montgomery

(from Halloween. I hope you call.)

And his phone number.

Thursday afternoon, Dean takes the candy-wrapper garbage bag out to the parking lot. At the last second, he pulls Al’s note out of his jeans. After a long moment of reading and re-reading it, he gently folds it back up and tosses it into the bag. He throws the whole thing into the dumpster.

But not before memorizing the number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John gets home late Thursday night. Before they check out of the motel on Friday, John sits Dean down on the toilet seat in the bathroom and pulls out his electric clippers.

While John has his back turned, plugging in the clippers by the sink, Dean pushes his hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands bunch up between his fingers and fall back down onto his ears. He remembers Al’s messy hair brushing his cheek when they hugged.

John flips the clippers on and the buzzing fills the bathroom. For the second time, Dean is glad that the mirror is shattered.

With every lock of hair that tumbles to the ground, Dean recites Al’s number in his head.

“There,” John says gruffly, after the floor and Dean’s lap are littered with honey brown strands. “You look like a man again.”

Dean stands up, brushing off his jeans. His head feels cold. “I’ll get a broom,” he says.

He’s halfway out the bathroom door when John says “Dean.”

Dean freezes, already wondering where he left a wrapper, how John found the garbage bag, if Sam let something slip. He slowly turns back. John’s wrapping the cord around the clippers.

“I need you to come on the next hunt. We’ll drop Sam off at Bobby’s.”

Bobby’s, where the telephone is. Dean’s heart beats hard for a different reason now. He tries to look casual. “Are we gonna stay for a bit?”

John’s already shaking his head before Dean’s done talking. He pushes past him and drops the clippers into his duffel bag on the bed. “No. We’ll be on the road for a while.” He stops and looks at Dean. “Weren’t you going to find a broom?”

Dean loads a dustpan with his hair and empties it on top of the garbage bag in the dumpster.

He whispers Al’s number again.

[whumpasaurus101]

The Slithery Tales

did i make myself laugh at this title? yes. Am I dissapointed in my self for it? Yes...... Anywhooooo this has been sitting in my draft for two day and my broin forgot abt it so here ya go!! Heheeh

btw... if anyone is new, Aurora is a snake..... sinner.

CW: snakes snakes snakes :D / Dehuminization (i think -??-) / its not too whumpy tbh..... / let me know if i missed something!!

Previous / Masterlist

Mateo chuckled as Aurora slithered up his sleeve, “She’s active today!” Pheonix tugged at his restraints, feeling the scratchy rope rub against his skin. “Please Mateo, I’m sorry, alright? I didn't mean to offend you!” Pheonix was desperate, “Just get that puta away from me!!” Mateo’s head snapped up to him, “We will discuss the name calling later. But ‘Puta’?” Pheonix gulped as he realised his mistake, “N-no! You heard me wrong, I- I said-” He was cut off by Mateo’s loud laugh, “Hah! You know you have always been a terrible liar! So you mean to tell me that you have been able to translate everything that me and my gang have said?”

Pheonix clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to say anything else. He jumped at the feeling of something warm against his leg. He looked down to see Aurora slithering around his leg. He let out a whine and resisted kicking her off. Once Aurora had killed an ex member of the gang after ratting the gang to another one. It was not worth the risk.

“You just tell me the answer, and then I won't make Aurora choke you to death.” Well that’s reassuring. Pheonix forced himself to look away, bringing his eyes to lock with Mateo’s. He glared at him but the glare ended up changing to pleading eyes as Aurora continued to slither upward.

Mateo frowned and let out a laugh, “This is just pathetic! You're scared of a snake! What are you, three years old?” Pheonix rolled his eyes, his body was shaking as his mind wrestled with itself, “It-It’s a black mamba! It could kill you in seconds!! I don't even know how the hell you got it trained!” Mateo looked at him, disappointed, “ ‘It’? Seriously? Come on now. You wouldn't want to hurt her now, would you? Mas alto”

“No!” Pheonix gasped. But Aurora slithered higher. It was agonising Pheonix felt a few tears fall from his eyes. Each tear that fell made Pheonix feel as if they were betraying him. Mateo chuckled, shaking his head. Some one suddenly burst through the door, “Papa! There’s someone on the phone who wants to talk to you!” It was Rebecca. She looked taken back as she saw Pheonix but forced a smile. “Vale, vale, relax. You mind Pheonix while I get it, okay?”

Rebecca nodded and Mateo left. Pheonix squirmed as he felt Aurora tighten around his torso. He looked down at the ground, hoping to hide his tears from Rebecca but it was too late. She sat down across from him and fidgeted with her rings, “You okay?” She asked gently. Pheonix scoffed, “I’ve been kidnapped from my normal, small, boring life. Tortured, threatened and starved. Yes! I'm perfect. Could not be better!” Rebecca gulped. “I-I’m sorry, yeah, I’m fine,” Pheonix muttered. Rebecca sighed, “I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this.”

“‘S alright. It's not your fault. You know, I used to always look at mafia movies,” Pheonix chuckled, “But jesus, nothing like this.”

Rebecca laughed finally, “Yup, I would like to call it my dad’s ‘midlife crisis’ but apparently he’s been into this shit since he was younger.” Pheonix shook his head in disbelief. He then laughed, instantly regretting it as Aurora tightened around his torso. He gasped looking up to Rebecca with wide eyes. Rebecca jumped up quickly, “Shit, shit, alright, listen to me. She can sense fear, that will only make her squeeze tighter. I need you to relax for me, okay?” Pheonix nodded and closed his eyes. He could still see black dots but he ignored them. How long more until he passed out? No. Relax He thought about the beach the way the sun reflected off of the water the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The way the shells and sand would feel against his feet as he raced down the beach with Sammy.

It was the most painful thing ever, the stones and shells cutting into his feet and the pain in his calves as the sand held him back. But oh how he longed to go back there. The long nights, the music, the campfire, his friends.

He felt the grip on his waist loosen slightly. He heaved in a gasp and started sputtering. he opened his eyes to see both Rebecca and Mateo standing in front of him. He flinched.

“Well, aren’t you a little wuss! I leave for five minutes and you already upset Aurora!” Pheonix bit his lip to stop himself from crying. He hadn’t a clue what was wrong with him. His best guess was that it was because of the lack of sleep, food, and proper human interaction.

Mateo let Aurora slither back onto his own hand and stroked her with one finger as if she was some dog. “Quien estaba al teléfono?” Rebecca asked, breaking the silence Mateo looked at Pheonix, knowing full well that Pheonix knew what she had just said. He cleared his throat and looked at his daughter, “Diego, your uncle. He’s having a barbecue and insisted that Pheonix should come with us! It’s tomorrow, and you best believe that you're wearing a dress!”

Rebecca let out a defeated sigh and nodded, “Yes sir.” Then Mateo turned to Pheonix, “Now, we need to go through some rules.”

---

taglist:

@happy-whumper @as-a-matter-of-whump @milk-carton-whump@jordanstrophe @yesthisiswhump @kixngiggles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi (let me know if you wanna be added or removed!! <3)

thank you for reading have an awesome day!!! -or night, or evening teehee- (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[ltleflrt]

*busts into the room with an air horn in one hand and a seltzer bottle in the other*

LISTEN UP CLOWNS!  I AM HERE WITH THE 15x19 POSITIVITY.

But bucklemming-- *AIRHORN* But the stupid things-- *SPRAYS YOU WITH SELTZER* No Caaaas-- *DOUBLE BARRELS YOU*

LOOK.  BUCKLEMMING ARE BAD WRITERS, THEIR EPISODES ARE ALWAYS POORLY PACED AND FULL OF SHITTY THINGS TO FILL UP YOUR BUCKLEMMING’S BULLSHIT BINGO CARD, AND THIS WAS NO EXCEPTION.  BUT LET’S TALK ABOUT GOOD THINGS AND HYPE OURSELVES UP FOR NEXT WEEK, AWRIGHT? AWRIGHT!

I enjoyed 15x19!  It was delightfully stupid, gave me exactly what I expected from Cas’ unfinished storyline, and managed to surprise me, made me bawl, and fuck y’all the montage was fun!

I like that my sad boy Dean pulled himself up from his bootstraps and went to meet Sam and Jack in the beginning.  Because he always gets back up, even when he’s at his lowest lows.  We know he ignored Sam’s calls while he had a good cry at the end of 18, but he got back to the business of Winchester World Saving once he got enough of it out of his system to function.

It felt good to see Sam have a meltdown.  I looooove Cool And Logical!Sam who is almost always the voice of reason, but Dean ain’t the King of Repression, Sam is.  The boy shoves so much down, his fears about being tainted, his Hell/Lucifer trauma, (frustration with watching Dean and Cas dancing around each other for 11 fucking years), his grief over his tragic love life... Let him yell!  Let him shout and scream and put down the burden of hope for a few minutes!  Yes, good.  Very good, Sam.  Get it off your chest!

Dean named the dog “Miracle”.  Stahp! So soft! *clutches chest*

DEAN SPRINTING FOR THE DOOR!  HE TOOK THOSE STAIRS TWO AT A FUCKING TIME TO GET TO HIS ANGEL!

C’mon now... who didn’t enjoy seeing Lucifer get murdered one last time?  *chef’s kiss*

JAKE ABEL YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN!!  I wish I’d glomped onto this guy years ago!  What a gem!  What a good bean!!  Too bad about Michael’s failed redemption arc, but NO MORE ARCHANGELS TO FUCK AROUND WITH FATE YEAH BUDDY!!

Upon first watch, I was rolling my eyes at Jack’s power sucking ability.  Where did that come from?  It was out of nothing!  I was going to handwave it as bucklemming fuckery.  BUT THEN!  I woke up from a dead sleep at 4:44am and thought SERAFINA.  SHE SAID HE WOULD BE LIKE A SUPERNOVA AND THEN ADAM SAID HE’D BE A BLACK HOLE FOR COSMIC POWER.  AND GOD IS IN EVERYTHING.  LITTLE BLACK HOLE JACK SUCKING UP THE COSMIC POWER IN EVERYTHING.  It took me a minute Dabb&Co, but hat’s off, that was pretty fuckin’ cool.  (I marveled over this revelation for about 15 minutes and then went back to sleep lol)

Hey, remember my first point about Dean always getting back up?  Yeah, that times a thousand, because now it’s him and Sammy getting back up every time they’re knocked down.  INSPIRING.  I WANT TO BE LIKE THEM WHEN I GROW UP.

Sam holding Dean upright.  Fuck.  *sobs in brochesters*

CHUUUUUUCK!!!!  I have been pulling my hair out since 14x20 trying to guess how they’d deal with Chuck.  I am FUCKING THRILLED with his ending.  Beautiful. Fucking. Poetry. 

AND JACK. SAVED THE WORLD.  TEAM FREE WILL’S SON WAS THE ULTIMATE HERO.

And Dean taking Cas’ last words to heart?  Knowing that he’s about love, not about killing?  alkdjfaz;oeirnfa;kldfj al;sdkjf elmoonfire.gif aldfj;adlks

Jack’s goodbye.  Oh Jack.  I love you so much you funky little nephilim.  Thanks for the heartfelt tears.  You are Good and the world is so blessed to have you.  A God with a Human Soul.  Perfect.

THE NAMES ON THE TABLE!!!  CASTIEL instead of CASS because FUCK THAT EXTRA S!!!

Fuck all of you making fun of the montage, I adored it and watched it like ten times before I went to bed last night.  If that had been at the end of 20 I would have side-eyed it haaaaaard.  But it was put in the perfect place in the season.  I appreciate the nostalgia bomb, thank you very much :P

ANYWAY!  Looking forward to 20!  Got my full clown gettup on!  And the airhorn and seltzer water WILL be used on any debbie downers and negative nancies that find their way to my inbox.

I LOVE SEASON 15 SO MUCH!!!!

BONUS CLOWNING:  NOW THAT DEAN IS FREE OF GOD’S MANIPULATION, EVERYTHING HE DECIDES TO DO IN REGARDS TO CAS IS OF HIS OWN FREE WILL AND HE KNOWS IT.  HE KNOOOOWS IT! 

[chevrolangels]

What's the fandom's prob w/ the "Cass" spelling? Dean calls Sam "Sammy" all the time & ppl seem to get that his name isn't spelled w/ 2 "M's". Isn't that what a nickname is? Like Lizzy might be short for Elizabeth.

OH BOY

I majored in Linguistics in college which in hindsight was a kind of useless choice but it has been leading to THIS MOMENT

Fandom’s problem (tbh this is why I have a problem with it, but i’m assuming a lot of people’s reasons are similar) is that the second ‘s’ comes from nowhere. ‘Castiel’ has only one ‘s’, so to shorten it, you just lop off the -tiel. Cas. Short. Sweet. To the point.

just like him

The second ‘s’ is redundant, and unnecessary. It doesn’t change the pronunciation. It’s like if you changed ‘Daniel’ to ‘Dan’. It wouldn’t suddenly become ‘Dann’, with two ns, because that just looks ridiculous. Benjamin–>Ben. Alexander–>Alex. Alan–>Al. (Definitely not All)

The reason we’re stuck with this dumb spelling is bc of Kripke, aka God:

And we all collectively were like:

Now to your point: Yes, absolutely, sam doesn’t have two ‘m’s in it, and Elizabeth doesn’t have two ‘z’s. But let’s take a look at some other examples:

Abigail –> Abby

Benjamin –> Benny (LAFITTE AND HE’S ALIVE FUCK U)

William –>Billy

Samuel –> Sammy

Notice a pattern? When the diminuitive -y is added, English conventions just kinda require the double letter in terms of spelling. Compare, for example:

Abigail –> Aby

Benjamin –> Beny

William –> Bily

Samuel –> Samy

Those just sounded wrong, didn’t they? Basically once you translate stuff to paper and written words, you gotta follow the written rules for spelling so that when it’s read back, it still makes sense. 

ALSO

Castiel–> Cassie. The only acceptable Castiel nickname with two s’s ;) 

TL;DR

While you could argue ‘Cass’ is acceptable because it’s the same pronunciation-wise…

My counter-argument is it looks stupid.

[rat-gvf]

Chapter 1. LIKE WE USED TO (SAMMY X ORIGINAL CHARACTER)

The following is a transcript of texts between V and Sam Kiszka on July 13th, a day after V’s birthday.

V: hey, there. how’d it go last night? you okay? you were pretty drunk. you’re prob. still asleep, but boy do i have quite the stories to tell about it all.

SAM: Morning, V. I’m okay, I think. Just hungover.

V: i am so shocked you’re awake. did you see cam?

SAM: If I did, I don’t remember. I’m really hungover.

V: i figured lol. basically i kept getting birthday shots and stuff from everyone, and i didn’t wanna drink so i just gave em to him.

SAM: Was he fucked up?

V: nah, i cut him off. i may be a bad influence but i am a responsible one.

SAM: LMAO Sure… Okay.

V: you seemed to be having a blast last night.

SAM: Oh yeah?

V: yeah you were with this girl, both of you were pretty fucked up.

SAM: Lol

V: do you remember being there with a girl, sam?

SAM: No, but I think I know who you’re talking about.

V: she was all over you like i used to be lol.

Victoria Pierce anticipated her birthday like any other young woman would- 21 is quite a feat. After years of hiding booze in her shoeboxes, and smoking weed after school dances, V was finally of legal age to buy herself that big bottle of Tito’s and drink it into oblivion. Sam Kiszka was the baby brother of Josh and Jake Kiszka, who were pretty tight friends with V’s big brother Cam. Cameron and Jake played guitar together a lot, so V often saw the entire gaggle of the Kiszka family at her house, and when the boys started Greta Van Fleet, V and Cam wasted no time to go support their local shows. Karen, the Kiszka’s mom, and V’s mom grew close over the years, and when Cam graduated with Jake and Josh, the entire two families seemed to merge together for an extravagant graduation party. V’s mom wasn’t particularly strict about drinking, but she definitely wasn’t lenient like the Kiszka family. While the Kiszka brothers drank beers and shots at their graduation party, V spent her time sober and wondering what she one day might do. Sam Kiszka wasn’t close with V until high school, and they were pretty close friends from the second they started talking. Later in high school, Sam asked V to prom and the rest was history.

Their relationship blossomed into something heavier than expected for the two of them. They were on and off again for a while in the beginning, but the second they both committed, V let Sam move into her small home just out of the outskirts of Saginaw. She knew he had another place to call home in Nashville, in fact, she knew he had several places to call home- but in the summertime, the two of them would reunite harmoniously and the thought of him leaving escaped out through the windows she kept cracked to let in the cool evening air. But, like all good things, the relationship came to a shocking end just two months before V’s 21st birthday. The fight that led to the breakup was over Sam and his fickleness with commitment. Unlike his brothers, who were either in committed relationships, or desperately running from them, Sammy seemed to eb and flow in an indecisive middle ground that drove V completely up the wall. He suggested to V that they open their relationship up, or take a temporary break during his tour so that she could see other people, but the both of them knew it was more about him seeing girls than her seeing other people. V wasn’t necessarily ‘over’ committed to Sam, but her understanding of their relationship was quite flawed since he lived with her part time. So, when Sam suggested that they open things up, she knew no matter what he tried to say to her, it wasn’t about her.

Hateful words that V kept locked inside from feeling unlovable came to the front and she spewed at him things she wished she’d never said. The fight ended with a mutual agreement that because Sammy didn’t have anywhere else to go besides his mom’s when he was in town, that he’d continue to be her roommate in the summer and pay rent rather than hanging out in the same little bedroom they always did. He left V there, and stayed with his brothers at their parent’s for a few weeks- she had to reorganize the entire home to fit the new dynamic that he had created between them. By herself, and with a small amount of help from Cam, V moved her bed into the living room space and let Sam keep the original bedroom. She assumed that it was only a matter of time before he decided he didn’t wanna be around anymore, and she’d have her bedroom back. The house was practically a shed, but that was her fault and not anyone else’s. She wanted the pool more than she cared about space- so she spent all her saved up funds on an in-ground pool outside, and worried less about the rickety one-bedroom’s state. She never thought she’d have to accommodate for a roommate considering she saw herself either in a relationship, or alone. Cam was married and lived in Detroit, and she didn’t have any interest in staying with him and her sister-in-law; the couple were great for each other, but Cam’s wife wanted kids, and so did Cam. V didn’t want to intrude on their family planning, or take up the potential baby’s room.

V missed Sam; she missed the parties they went to, the late night swims, everything. Without him around, she felt quite alone. But, sometimes, in the cool June air, she would roll over on the bed and face that same cracked window- and for a moment she thought she could feel his arms around her again, but it was just the air

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

I See You

Summary: Alex hasn’t been feeling quite herself, Dean is there to listen. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Alex, aka me (platonic)

Word Count: 1.5K+

Warnings: Language, angst, talks of anxiety 

THIS ONE COULD BE LEGIT TRIGGERING, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE AT ALL CONCERNED THAT IT MAY NOT BE SAFE FOR YOU.

Author’s Note: Hey guys, I’ve had a really rough couple of days, some of the darkest I have ever seen in myself, so I spit out these words to try and make some sense of my own feelings. It was cathartic and I feel like I’m getting to a place where I can be alright. This is a love letter to myself, so enjoy, or don’t, it is for me ultimately. I figured I would share to remind everyone that we are not alone in our struggles. Special thanks to @waywardbeanie​ without whom I would not have made it through this hump. Thanks for always being my champion, and of course the gratuitous Jensen photos. Also, this is completely unedited, just rough and raw feelings. xo Alex

The sounds of Dean’s boots hitting the tile of the bunker echoed down the hall as he made his way inside. The hunter wiped the grease from his hands as he stepped into the war room, his eyes going straight to his little brother in front of a computer in the library. 

“Hey, Sammy.” Sam hummed a noncommittal reply as Dean came up next to the table. “Still looking for another hunt.” 

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “Nothing out there right now. It’s almost eerily silent.” 

Dean nodded to himself. Times like these were rare, but he enjoyed them all the same. Sometimes it was nice to enjoy the silence for a little while. Only there was one thing nagging him today, or rather not nagging him. 

“Have you talked to Alex today?” Dean continued to work the oil out from his nails beds, his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration. 

Sam furrowed his brow as he thought, his head cocking as the realization hit him. “No actually, now that you mention it. I haven’t even heard her rummaging around in the kitchen.” 

“She was weird when she went to bed last night. Quiet.” Dean commented. 

“Alex, quiet?”

“Yeah, when she’s upset.” Dean chewed on his bottom lip. “Except I figured she would just sleep it off. She usually does.” Which was true, Alex was rarely ever in a mood and when she was, like almost every girl he had ever met, all he had to do was feed her or put her to bed. The woman was basically a gremlin but with more complex thoughts. 

“Just because we haven’t seen her doesn’t mean anything. You know how much she loves getting lost in all these books.” Sam countered. The younger Winchester ran his fingers through his long brown locks and shrugged off Dean’s obvious worry. 

“Nope.” Dean shook his head. “Alex always brings me lunch when I’m working on Baby.” 

“Dude, she is not your mother.”

“I know that, Sammy.” Dean wasn’t sure what exactly Sam was trying to insinuate. Dean loved her cooking and if she wanted to make him food, why should he deny her that. Besides, Dean always made sure she ate with him, no matter how much she would insist that she had some other thing to do. “But come on, you said it yourself. This is not like her.” 

Dean turned on his heel and hopped down the steps towards their bedrooms. He took a pit stop in the kitchen to wash his hands before continuing down the hall to room twelve. He raised a fist and rapped his knuckles against the heavy wooden door. 

“Al,” he called, squinting his eyes as he listened for a response. After a moment of no response, he gritted his teeth. “Okay, I’m coming in.” The hunter turned the knob to the door and let himself in, pushing the door in hesitantly. 

Only one of her bedside lamps was on, casting a small orange glow in the corner of the room. There was an Alex sized lump in the center of the bed where she was mostly hidden under the covers. Dean could see the glow of her phone falling over her pillows. She didn’t even stir when the door creaked. 

“Really, no sarcastic remark about entering your room?” 

The woman who had lain hiding away in her room all day, sighed and locked her phone before sitting up. The covers fell to her waist and the chill of the bunker caused a shiver to run through her. She ran her fingers through her burgundy locks in an attempt to straighten out the rat’s nest that had settled there. 

Alex rubbed her eyes, “What’s up Dean?” 

He couldn’t help the frown on his face as he took in the distance look in her eye. “Al, are you okay?” 

She looked away from his gaze, and off towards the opposite corner of the room as she pulled her knees into her chest. Dean watched her for a moment, her hands rubbing up and down her bare arms. Even in the low light of the bedroom, Dean noticed the way her eyes began to water. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it?” Dean sat down on the end of her bed, angling his body to face her. Alex shook her head, holding back the full-blown tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Okay, well can I just sit with you then?” 

The pair of them sat in silence before she could no longer take it. Dean had proved to her that he had no intention of leaving without getting her to talk. As much as she hated sharing the deepest secrets running around in her brain, she also knew talking some of it out would help the anxiety churning in her stomach. 

“I don’t know, Dean. I mean half the time I don’t even understand my triggers myself. I just get this… this anxiety bubble that settles in the pit of my stomach.” She gestured about with her hands. “And then my mind just tells me everything wrong with my life.” 

“Like?” 

The woman scoffed, “Oh you know the usual. You aren’t good enough, your friends only tolerate you, why do you even try.” Alex gripped her hair and tugged at the roots. “And you know what that’s not even the part that gets me. I can work around that.” 

“Then what has got you holed up in your room all day?” Dean gripped her wrist and forced her to let go of her hair. He could see her chewing on the inside of her cheek, contemplating her answer. 

“It’s just that I had gotten so used to being alone that it had become my new normal. And to be honest, I was okay with that, I had reconciled being alone forever. That’s the type of life we live as hunters.” Her voice had risen as her frustration had. Never before had she ever been this down, and it scared her more than anything. Before she could have at least pretended that she had everything under control, but now things were spiraling and she had nothing to grasp onto to keep from floating away. 

“I love you and Sam. You are my family. But being around people is draining me. You two bicker at every given opportunity and not mention are just loud men in general. Then there is Jack who is literally an infant, which you know I can not handle as I have told you multiple times I do not want kids. This place has become...like sensory overload, even on my best days. At the end of the day, I feel like I have no battery left and I can’t recharge overnight. I’ve been running on empty for too long and that has forced me to put up a mask for you two because I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t do it anymore.” She took a shuddering breath as the tears were breaking free. “I’m just tired, Dean.”

He nodded as he absorbed everything that she was telling him. If Dean knew one thing about Alex, it was that she didn’t let people into that dark side of her. She was always the first person to be there for everyone else in their moment of need and had the tendency to downplay her own struggles if it meant that the attention was not on her. There was nothing that made her more uncomfortable than the attention on her. He had to choose his words carefully. 

“Okay, first off, I know you think that you are this pro at putting up a front to hide the person you are inside, but I hate to break it to you, you aren’t. I can see right through that facade. I see when you are hurting and when you are genuinely happy. I see when you want to cry and when you are playful. I see you sweetheart, don’t ever doubt that.”

“Second, don’t ever believe you are better off alone. Just because you had gotten used to it doesn’t mean it is what you deserve. You are a strong, beautiful, and empathetic woman. The world deserves to have you out there. I know for me and Sam, our world has never been brighter than when you came crashing into our lives, literally.” They both chuckled at his reference to her being thrown into Dean at the hunt that brought them into each other’s lives. 

“And lastly, all you had to do was tell me. Take a car from the garage and go for a drive if that’s what you need. Spend all day in here mindlessly scrolling through the internet, or dissociating while watching the office for the millionth time. And if you just need me to sit quietly with you, I’ll be there. I know you only have so much in you, but sweetheart, having even only a little of you is worth so much more than none of you.” 

“Dean-” 

“You don’t have to say anything. Take your time, we will be here when you are ready. Just come back to us, okay?” Alex nodded, the tears flowing freely now. Dean reached over and brushed away a tear with his thumb. 

“Now that we have established that, I know you haven’t eaten all day. Are you hungry?” Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“Mmm, I guess I could eat,” she sniffled. 

“That's what I thought. But what should we have…” Dean trailed off before leaning over the edge of the bed and plucking an orange box from underneath. “How about your not-so-secret stash of cheez-its?” 

Alex’s jaw dropped, having truly thought the boys had no clue about her stash under the bed. The boys always went through a box far too fast and she never got any so now she had learned to buy her own box for safekeeping. “Dean Winchester, you give me those back!” She squealed, the infectious grin on the hunter’s face enough to lighten her heart at that moment for a genuine smile to crack on her tear-stained face. She reached out to snatch the box away from him, only for Dean to pull it out of her reach. 

“I don’t think so, we are all out in the pantry and you’ve got my favorite flavor.” 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #397

“you’re my religion, you’re my reason to live  /  you are the heaven in my hell”

Do you think that you’ll always love who you love now? Even if we're never together again romantically, I will ALWAYS love her at least as a best friend. Have you ever made out with a random person? Yeah, no. If you could do your first kiss over, would you? No. I'm lucky that my first kiss was honestly cute as hell. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Well I voted for him, so I obviously can't hate him. He seems to be doing fine so far, though take that with a grain of salt seeing as I don't keep up with politics. Even before voting for him, I just did a small bit of researching on his values. What color is your house? Yellow with white accents. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, I don't enjoy it. Man, Jason's mom sure did, though... I loved how in the spirit she'd get and always played Christmas music in the car during that time of year. I miss that woman and I sure as hell hope she rests easy now. Do you like ginger ale? Solely if I have a stomach bug, and I can only ever sip it. What are you listening to? "Electric Sugar Pop" by Jeffree Star. What’s the last thing you watched on TV? The TMS office has the TV on, and the woman who overlooks it (I have zero idea what her position is called) tends to have it either on a cooking channel or a home improvement one. Today was a cooking one. Is your favorite author the author of your favorite book? I don't have a favorite author. Describe someone you find really attractive: M-Mark Fischbach. *___* If you HAD to look like someone else, but could choose who, who would you choose? Hm... maybe my friend Alon. I've mentioned I feel like a million times that she is like, ethereal with how gorgeous she is. Have you ever seen someone get a tattoo done? If so, what was it? Did they cry or were they in a lot of pain? Yeah; it was a watercolor feather with "ohana" written below it. She didn't cry at all, but she grit her teeth a few times. Do you have anything you couldn’t go a day without? Some form of technology. Have you ever gotten caught doing something illegal? No. What’s your favorite flavor of Vitamin Water? I don't even think I've ever tried it. Is there someone you wanna date right now? Yeah. What first attracted you to the last person you kissed? If we're talking the very first, our vast similar interests. How many brothers does your father have? None. Does your best friend have any tattoos? No. Do you like Ben + Jerry’s? Yep. Man, I want their Phish Food ice cream now. Would you ever wish to be the opposite sex? Nah. Do you think you’re attractive? Nope. What is your favorite card game to play? Magic: The Gathering. I really miss my PS3 where I had Duel of the Planeswalkers installed on it, it was really fun. Do you own a globe? I don't think we still do. What is your favorite wild cat? Perhaps clouded leopards. If your bedroom had three portals to anywhere, where would they lead? South Africa, Sara's place, and maybe a nice little cabin in the mountains for when I'm feeling a peaceful getaway. You can ask any author one question about their story. What do you ask? I have zero idea. What’s a place you have a strong emotional connection to? The pond behind the local community college. Jason and I took our first prom pictures there. Do you take yoga classes? No, but I'm actually considering it since they offer those at the YMCA Mom and I now go to. What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? To let Jason go. It's pretty great, my PTSD has been less of a bother lately! Have you ever made any money from a side-hustle? Could you consider being paid to take pictures once in a blue moon a "side hustle" when I don't even have a main job? Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? Ugh... it's incredibly painful to wonder how life would be if Jason never left. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? Adele's or Amy Lee's, probs. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? Metal, hard rock, alternative. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? No. Have you ever been homeless? If so, what led to your homelessness? Technically, yes, because Mom couldn't afford the rent. She, my little sister (who still lived with us at the time), and I each were accepted into the homes of willing, kind people, though. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? David. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? Heath Ledger's Joker is quoted all the time, so probably him. What do you think of the "Healthy At Every Size" movement/philosophy? Before I answer this, I want you to keep in mind that this is coming from someone who is obese, so I would positively love to agree with that for my own self-confidence, but I don't. I believe it's a very dangerous mentality. I think you should cherish your body unconditionally, like it's an amazing machine, but I firmly believe you should have an active interest in becoming what is physically healthy. You couldn't pay me millions to convince me that, say, a 300 lb. person is healthy. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I think my first *real* crush was this guy Sebastian my freshman year of high school. I thought he was very sweet, funny, caring, and attractiveness was a bonus. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Sashimi, caviar, raw eggs... Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? Bindi Irwin, for one. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Have you ever been bitten so hard that there teeth marks were there after? I mean I've had hickeys before if that's what you're asking. Ever gave one? Oh, I guess you were. Yeah. Do you think its weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? Not at all. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, I'd rather have one myself because I'm well aware I personally need that special connection. Stepkids count, too, because they'd be my partner's and therefore very important for me too. What is the most personal question you have ever been asked? Probably TMI, so here's your fair warning, but I've been asked before if I "touch" myself and I was absolutely repulsed that someone would ask me that. Were you abused by your parents? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Up to finishing high school, modestly, I was. Where did you meet your first crush? Art class my freshman year of high school. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My niece Aubree. She's such a wonderful girl. Does your best friend have kids? No. If you were pregnant, would you want a boy or a girl? Hypothetically, a girl. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? Um, maybe my older sister's house? Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Yes, including my mother. Twice. Are you allergic to any medications? None that I've tried. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. If you’re atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? No; I wouldn't intervene with their own spiritual (or lack thereof) journey. They'd learn what they'd learn and decide themselves what they believe. Do you like reading self-help books? No, I just can't get invested in those. What is your opinion on sex change? If you're unhappy with your body, you're more than free to surgically change that with no judgment from me. Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Yes, to lose weight. Can you get a strike at bowling? I have before. There was one occasion where my first go was a strike RIGHT after saying I sucked at bowling, hahaha. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Well, I photograph roadkill, and that's one hell of a sad moment. I actually wouldn't mind broadening my horizons of photographing negative moments (with permission of course), because I actually find these very impactful and even builds empathy. I will never, ever forget this one picture I saw sometime of an emaciated boy huddled in the dirt with a vulture close by watching him... like fuck, it made me want to sob. No one should ever have to live like that, especially a child. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. I know that sounds contradictory to what I just said, I just wouldn't be able to do it myself. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Once, when my last niece was born. I'm terrified of holding them because they're just so fragile. Do you know anyone who has twins? My friend just had triplets. What is your favorite country in Europe? Germany. Are you thriving in your life right now? BOY HOWDY- Do you remember to water plants? I don't keep plants. Name three YouTubers you aspire to be like. 1.) Markiplier in a vast plethora of ways; 2.) Jeffree Star for his incredible work ethic; and 3.) Shane Dawson for his incredible compassion. Yes. I know the controversy, but regardless, he cares a lot about people. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know, given I haven't read the books or seen the movies. Do you watch PewDiePie? Not anymore; his content doesn't interest me anymore. I watched him religiously back in the day when he was a serious let's player, though. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No, not personally. I like watching LPs of it and I find the story fascinating, but it's not the kind of game I'd enjoy playing. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. I don't think I ever beat it, except maybe once. Are you wearing socks right now? No; unless I'm wearing closed-toe shoes like sneakers, I never do. I hate the feeling of them. Can you twerk? Haven't tried, don't wanna. Do you like dabbing? No, it looks stupid. Do you like fishing? I honestly do think it's fun with all the anticipation and thrill of seeing how big the fish is, however I don't support it anymore unless, like hunting, you genuinely need it for food. The only case where I'd go again was if my dad asked me, because that's always been our bonding experience. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? Well, they're the company behind World of Warcraft, so obviously. Do you like bananas? Yes, but only for a VERY short window of time. I am beyond picky with the ripeness of bananas. Are you addicted to anything? Caffeine and technology. Do you know your phone number? I actually don't. Do you swear in front of children? No.

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part nine ~ i’ll walk with you ~

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine)

A/N: I’ve had these scenes in mind since I started writing. Messages/Asks are open. Take time for yourself this week if you can. You’re important. 

Summary: George plans a party. Alex hears more noise coming from Sammy & Y/N’s apartment; he investigates.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Implications of an Abusive Relationship.

Word Count: 3.9k      BLUE TEXT = FLASHBACKS

Afternoon sun seeped in between where the window curtains in his bedroom met, creating a diagonal slash of light across Alex’s face. Eyes closed; light brown eyelashes rested softly on even softer cheeks. Their natural blush toned down in his unconsciousness. Lips relaxed to be parted the tiniest amount, enough to let out small mewls as he slept: more like purring than snoring.

He appeared delicate enough to break with a single glance. Peaceful. Calm. Unproblematic. Unlike when he was awake.

Clattering of cookware and the smell of burnt are both unpleasant things to wake up to. Combine the two, add muttered cursing in his flatmate’s distinct voice, and that would be Alex’s alarm clock.

Ten hours of dead sleep ended abruptly at a SLAM of a kitchen drawer followed with the metal clash of pans and the refrigerator door being opened and shut repeatedly. It was odd. George was usually a quiet presence to have around. Often loud-mouthed but always light on his feet.

Alex groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter, but he was not able to ignore the noise. Rolling twice over, he moved to one side of the bed and dragged himself out from under his duvet. Retying the strings on his pajama bottoms – which had slipped to be sitting precariously on his hips – he scanned his room. Deciding to load his arms up with food wrappers and half-full glasses before leaving.

“Morning,” George called over his shoulder as he pushed a spatula around in a pan in short panic-fueled movements. A light smoke spiraled up into his face.

“Is it?”

“Close enough.” He moved the pan off the hob. “It’s half one.”  

Flipping the glasses in his arms upside down and loading them into the dishwasher, Alex smiled to himself. Knowing whatever it was his flatmate was making – he would end up eating. It was not that either of them were terrible cooks just that both were impatient and set temperatures higher than should be or was recommended. To be fair, things did come out faster but also often simultaneously burnt in parts and still raw in others.

“We’re set to host this weekend.” George piped up as he pushed his concoction from the pan onto a plate – an identical one next to it. “How much alcohol do you think we need to stock up? Keeping in mind that Will asked us to keep him accountable after how he crashed last time…”

Alex closed the dishwasher and put the food wrappers in the kitchen bin. He took a bar seat and watched his flatmate finish up. “You invited Becky, right?”

“Right.”

“And she said she’d come? Might as well double it is whatever we got.”

George laughed. He slid the spatula and pan he used to cook, into the waiting water of the plugged sink. Taking a plate up in each hand, he moved to take a bar seat and placed in front of Alex a very crispy looking omelet. It was cheese and ham and mushroom.

“Thanks,” Alex mumbled around the fork already shoveling food into his mouth.

It was quiet for a few minutes as both men ate at their respective speeds: George with small quick bites and Alex with large, almost inhuman bites he did not necessarily chew before swallowing.

Adjusting his glasses, as he had not bothered to mess with his contacts that morning, George piped up with, “James texted me earlier. Aria and him are hitting up a pub or two tonight for a birthday celebration thing. I don’t know. But he wanted us to come along.”

“It’s not James’ birthday.”

“I think it’s for one of Aria’s friends. Reckon he just doesn’t want to be the one guy there.”

“I think I’m going to be busy.”

“Scraping together a video because you’re already late to upload doesn’t count as ‘being busy.’” George chuckled.

Quiet crept back into the conversation, expanding out like a noxious gas and poisoning all the air in the apartment, maybe even the entire floor of the building.

Omelets were eaten. Plates were cleared and cleaned. It came time for both to go return to their separate sides of the apartment into their separate lives and separate understandings. Alex reached for the handle on his bedroom door.

George pitched his voice a smidge lower than usual and started, “It’s ok—”

“Piss. I hate it when you do that. Do we have to?” Shoving a hand through his hair, Alex stepped back from the door, choosing instead to lean on the back of the sofa with arms crossed as he faced his flatmate. Why could we not have a regular morning? Why does he have to go on and ruin it?

“It’s OK to be, you know, lonely.”

Alex scoffed. “How could I be lonely when I got you hovering over me all the time?”

“I meant like romantic-like. There’s no shame in using Tinder and Grindr and that.”

“I’m not lonely.” He almost put the word in air quotes. Almost. “Or if I was, I’m not that desperate – besides, you pretty well ruined my dating ability on Grindr. Why you concerned anyway?”

“You’ve been moping. Acting all far away from things and that.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t mean to be if I am.” It did not take a lot of words for Alex to express the admiration he held for George and his genuine gratitude for the compassion all his mates had shown him. It did not take a lot of words, just a tone he reserved for them and a knowing look. “Don’t always notice it.”

“I do. When you’re not your usual annoying self, chattering on and on about Star Wars and Lord of the Rings for hours, making me want to chop off my ears.”

“And bagging a bird will fix me right up?”

“You don’t need fixing.” George shrugged. “I’m not trying to get sappy or whatever, but the right person comes along; sometimes, you just need to set-up the right conditions for that right person, you know?”

“You get one girlfriend in your whole life, and you’re a relationship expert, is that it?”

“Basically.”

Laughing, Alex pushed himself off the back of the sofa and meandered a couple of steps closer to his bedroom door. Signaling a clear desire to end the conversation – not that George would pick up on even the most obvious body language: what with his watermelon-level social skills.

Unsurprisingly enough, for each step Alex took to distance himself from his flatmate, George took an equal step toward him. His hands came up in front of him in an it’s not all bad type gesture.

“Come out with James and me tonight and have some fun. I’ll even stay out the way if you want to bring a lass back to the flat.” George winked an exaggerated wink.

“I can’t get a pet lizard because of possible diseases, but you’re condoning a one-nighter?”

“Yeah, could do you some good.”

Alex tapped his socked foot against the floor, a rhythm of gentle thumps. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said hesitantly, “I’ll think about it – going out – ask me again later?”

“Alright.” George nodded. Both men resigned from the conversation and moved towards their respective bedrooms.

~LATER~

Alex flashed a smile to the camera. “Don’t forget to leave a like, subscribe if you’re new, and turn notifications on. And I’ll see you guys in the next video. Peace out people and have a good day.”

He stopped the recording. It was the entire rest of his afternoon, but he had finally finished filming himself having another go at Brent Rivera. Drained from even simulated socialization, Alex pushed off from his chair and dumped himself on top of his bed. Sprawled out like a lowercase letter ‘x.’

It took a lot of trial and error over most of his life to learn how essential breaks were to his productivity. Pulling his phone from his pocket and his earbuds from off his side table, he pressed play on his most recently cultivated playlist. Alex let his eyelids flutter closed (without intentions to sleep) and focused on the music: steady. sappy. great vocals.

From above him came the familiar sound of muffled shouting followed with a new sound – the shattering of glass. It was loud enough to hear over his music. Alex pulled his earbuds out and laid still, cocking his head a tad, as he listened.

All couples fight. Alex knew that. First of all, because he was not an idiot. Second of all, because he had gotten into it with all his past partners at some time or another. Now he also knew he was not an aggressive person nor intimidating in most situations. But he had gotten rather angry before – pulsing neck vein kind of angry.

He had shouted and been met with stunned quiet. He had shouted and been met with shouts of equal anger. It was never pleasant. It solved nothing, and he regretted it after.

Muffled shouting remained indistinct but grew in volume. Alex closed his eyes tighter; he was weak in the stomach like he was going to be sick and felt lighter like he had been bloodletting. His breathing picked up. He tried to ignore it – the shouting. With rattling hands, he put his earbuds back in and practiced some of that self-talk his therapist had once recommended.

All couples fight. It is normal. There is nothing to be anxious about. I am not there. It does not involve me.

There was a second shattering sound from above. An army of nightmare scenarios invaded his head. He did not know what was happening. He did not know what was happening and it. was. killing. him.

What if I did nothing and Y/N’s in genuine trouble?

Alex took to his feet in a flash. Slipping his phone in his pocket and snatching his keys off his desk, he stormed out of the bedroom like he was escaping a fire.

“Al, where are you going?” George dropped what he was doing, jumped to stand, and near hurdled over the sofa in a race to reach the front door first. In a stern command, he called, “Stop.”

But the younger was not listening. Alex had his hand on the door handle, pulling it open just ten centimetres when George appeared to the side of him and closed it with one hand, trapping him inside.

“Let me go.” He pulled the handle, gaining no more leverage.

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“I—” It was apparent he wanted to get the words out, but before another distorted syllable could be spoken, Alex stopped and turned his eyes up to the ceiling: to the muffled shouting.

Rigid in stance, George scrunched up his forehead; he did not move his gaze from Alex. “No. You have to let it be. You have to—just, don’t get involved.”

After dropping his focus to the floor, and looking to his feet for a short second, Alex pulled his eyes back up – pathetic and pleading. Desperate for something but trapping all possible answers inside. Opening his mouth and closing it again, he appeared liable to spring a leak or deflate entirely. “Please.”

George complied. He removed his hand from the door. And Alex left the flat.

He was the same person in the same hall he had been in a thousand times. Yet. It was different that time. Familiar but wrong – spoiled – a rip-off version of a beloved video game.

Might have been the lights were about dead and not shining as bright. Or the carpeting had not been hoovered recently and was stiffer under his shoes. Or some decoration had been removed from the walls, something large enough that his peripheral recognized it as being absent. 

Might have been, but Alex could not be sure.

Weaving around the crumbling blockades of rationality and through the ripped recklessness filter, a spark carrying a thought ™ completed the obstacle course from stem to the front of his brain: You’re not a fighter. Even if Alex walked straight into Sammy and Y/N battling it out on the floor above, what was he expecting himself to do? Could he even act logically in such a situation? When just the thought of it had riled him up so terribly?

Each step Alex walked, the stale air expanded further beyond the physical limits of the hall. Goose pimples bubbled up on the skin of his arms. His own footfalls sounded distant behind his breathless breathing and the ring in his ears. 

At reaching the lift doors, the feeling of suffocation broke to little relief. Not broke like a fever, with the hope of good health ahead, broke like snapping a pen in half, leaving it useless. Surely, he would be useless.

His index finger smashed against the call button; the sliding doors opened. Anxious fires died down while worried coals remained warm and present. He needed to know what was happening – not with himself – that was a question he could not answer. But with Y/N. Lovely, Y/N.

DING. Alex cleared the doors and took the hall above his own in quick strides until he stopped outside Sammy and Y/N’s apartment.

Shouts could be heard from behind the door, first from Sammy, “You never remember any of the good things I do!”

Y/N interjected, “I—”

“No. I’m talking. You’re such a depressive bitch to be around – everybody agrees. Oh, go on. Get all teary-eyed. Can’t you see how manipulative that is? Where are you go—? Red!”

Alex raised his fist to knock when the handle jumped, and the door was thrown open. Startled, he stood stock-still as Y/N harshly shoulder-checked him. She fled up the hall – opposite the lift – to the door for the stairwell.

Nothing in her hands. Not even wearing shoes.

“Alex? What are you doing here?” Sammy stepped forward from his hidden spot inside the apartment and into view; his frame took up almost the entire doorway. A reserved but friendly smile stretched across his mouth. His cheeks were not flushed red with heat, and there was not a speck of hostility in his stare.

Neither acting nor looking like he had just been screaming. As if he had flipped a switch, the second Y/N was out of sight; shifted into a new skin entirely.

“Um—I,” Alex babbled as he dragged his focus from the door Y/N had disappeared behind. “I—there was a crash. It was loud, and George thought I better check-up on you two, make sure everyone’s ok.”

Putting his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, Sammy jostled him a touch. “No worries. That’s actually really cool – very thoughtful. Yeah, when Red gets agitated, things can get out of hand fast.”

“George and I, we’ve gotten a good number of noise complaints before, and we’re still here. But I’ll be honest. Keep going like that, and the eviction notice will be slid under your door tomorrow.”

“Good looking out. We got security called on us yesterday. Poor guy had to practically tear Red off of me.” Sammy held his hands out and curled his finger in a representation of cat claws. “I don’t expect there to be much noise going forward. She’ll calm down. Best to just leave her alone for a bit.”

Alex was decidedly not going to do that. “I could talk to her.”

“I wouldn’t bother, but I won’t stop you.” Sammy’s face brightened. “Actually. You know what? That might not be a bad idea. Less chance of her causing a scene if she’s with someone. And your type is well good at handling women and the emotional stuff, aren’t you?”

“My type?”

Alex gritted his teeth at the comment. “Stop.”

“Oh?” Sammy raised his head. “You’re gay?”

George started, “Well, he’s bi—”

“Yeah.” Alex cut him off. Sometimes it was easier to just be “gay” than to get specific with someone who might not understand or even accept further explanation.

Sammy breathed out an, “Oh.”

“Is that an issue?” 

“It’s a relief! Don’t have to be worried about you trying to chat up Red.”

“Oh!” Alex forced a smile, “My type right. I got yous.”

“That’ll be perfect. Much better to have you giving Red advice than—well, just remind her that you’ve known me long enough to know I’m a good guy and stuff.” Sammy stepped back and wrapped his hand around the door to close it. “Maybe, tell her I’m sorry or something.”

“Got it.” Alex turned and walked up the hall to the stairwell door. He heard Y/N’s whimpers and then jogged up one flight of stairs and found her.

Y/N sat on the edge of the landing with her bare feet planted on the step below. Crying quietly, despite stairwell echo, as she held a hand over her mouth in a bid to suppress each hiccup and each broken noise. Her her head hung low.

Others might have described her as a portrait of lost strength after holding out for so long: a tragedy-struck Venus: an inspirational and poetic muse. Alex would not. He saw nothing analogous to artwork. 

Y/N was not a subject to be romanticized in her lowest moments. She was not a canvas, painted pale with a couple of blue-tinted tears. She was a person, shuddering while red blotches bloomed across her skin.

“Hey, Red. I—uh…heard what happened, and I’m sorry for following you, but I was worried.” His heart gushed with empathy or sympathy – if he had ever bothered to learn the difference, maybe he could tell. 

All Alex knew was his core ached with physical pain when he looked at her.

There was no reaction to his words nor his presence. Y/N did not lift her head; Alex ducked to see if he could perhaps catch her eyes, but they were screwed shut. Tears carved rivers down her cheeks. The hand over her mouth remained and was accompanied by her other hand as her sobs reached a new peak. It did not seem she would be speaking anytime soon.

And what was Alex supposed to do? He could not force her to want him there, so he reluctantly turned around and started back down the stairs. While he walked, a voice broke the silence in his head: Y/N’s emotional state and relationship issues are not your responsibility. It is not your job to help pick her up.

True. It was not Alex’s job to be there, and that was reason enough for him to leave without guilt. He was not responsible for her, and that should have stopped him from thinking about it again. It would have stopped him if he had not lived the life he had. If he had not known how frustrating – how debilitating it was to feel so helpless. To need others so desperately while also unable to ask for that help.

Leaning on the push bar of the stairwell door two floors down, opening it to his hall, he could see the door to his apartment, and where he knew George would be anxiously waiting for him.

Alex traced his gumline with his tongue. What am I doing? Spinning around, he took the stairs two at a time back up to Y/N.

True. It was not his job to be there. Alex wanted to be there. Even if Y/N was not in a position to understand that.

Returning to the landing, he stopped for a breath, unsure how to approach the crying woman, just watching her for a short moment. He sat beside her and planted his feet on the step below. A pair of shoes set next to a pair of bare feet.

When his bottom touched the floor, he felt the full weight of Y/N pushing on him. Her sobbing renewed as her arms wrapped around his neck, and her hands found the back of his shirt with clinging grasps. Alex wrapped his arms around her. Y/N brought her legs in closer and practically pulled herself into his lap.

From how limp and pliable Y/N was as she spilled over him, it was clear there was no anger behind her tears. No rage. No thought that she might start shouting obscenities or stomping her feet. Nothing like that. These were cries of exhaustion. But how she clung onto Alex like she was trying to ground herself, like he was the one real thing in her world at that moment, made him think there was more to it. How she had pacified herself with her hands earlier and how she buried her face in Alex’s chest to similar results. Y/N was frightened. Scared.

Tears formed wet spots on his shirt. Alex tried to keep himself as stable as possible, and he was, for the most part, considering how the woman he held shook like a coke-addicted pomeranian. It was not as uncomfortable as he might have thought. There was no talking, shushing, or humming. Alex and Y/N just sat in their relative quiet for however long it took.

Eventually, the hiccupping slowed. Stopped. Then it was just them and the quiet.

Alex asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Y/N’s limbs stiffened, and Alex relaxed his hold to allow her to untangle herself from him; she did. Pulling back, she swung her legs and situated herself to be sitting perpendicular to him. Her puffy, wet eyes hesitantly met his dry ones.

“Is it normal? For couples to fight like us?” Y/N asked somehow able to keep eye contact as she did but not able to raise her voice much above a whisper. “For him to throw things?”

“No.”

“Oh. I’m sorry you had to—”

“You don’t have to apologize. It was scary.” He assumed as he ventured to place his hand lightly on her knee. “If you ever want to talk to someone, I’m here. Whenever you want to drop in, just do it. Seriously. I got lots of free time; I’m basically unemployed.”

“Thank you.” Giggling, Y/N wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and dropped her hand to her knee – curling her fingers around his hand; she gave a small squeeze. “You’re sweet.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Have I? Huh. It must be true then.” The words were barely out her mouth when she dropped her newfound smile entirely, and her brows furrowed in seriousness. “I should—it’s time I head back.”

Alex bit his lip, wanting to protest, wanting to scream and shout, but knowing he could not risk starting an argument with her – not now, not about this. “Ok. I’ll walk with you.”

Taglist: (message to join!) @angelbabyivy @eboysimp

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Wrong Universe

Part 8 - Trust Issues

Summary - When the actor of the show comes face to face with the characters, what can possibly go wrong?

Characters - Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and basically the entire cast and crew of supernatural.

Warning - Angst-ish, sweet moments

A/N - We are so close to the ending now. Two more chapters left. Happy reading!

Catch up here

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"Hey, Jared's not picking up my phone. Everything's okay at work?" A female voice said from the other side of the phone. Jensen looked and saw Jared walking to the other side of the set to talk with Rob.

"Uh-yeah. As good as it can be", Jensen sighed. Jensen walked up to Jared and mouthed "your wife" to him. He saw the gears turning in Jared's head and he patted down his body in search of his phone.

"What does that mean? Is Jared okay? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-I'm fine, Gen. Jared is fine. He is right beside me. He is going to call you back within a few minutes. Shit I need to call Danneel too. I didn't call her since morning", Jensen said watching Jared go towards his trailer in search of his phone.

"That's highly unlikely of you Jensen. What's wrong?" Genevieve said with concern.

"Nothing is wrong Gen", Jensen sighed.

"Don't pull that crap on me. Spit it out", Gen said.

"Oh god woman. Fine! It's not the set. It's about Dean. He is....suddenly a stranger for me. I can't read...understand him anymore".

"Did you talk to someone? Listen, I can't say anything about Dean but I can say that you know him more than you know yourself. Maybe all that stress about the end is getting to you but if you have any serious problem, I think you should talk to someone who knows Dean better than you", Gen said. "And tell that husband of mine to call me when he gets some time off".

"Maybe you're right about talking to someone. T-thanks Gen. Jared is probably calling you back right now", Jensen said and disconnected the call.

Jensen thought about what Gen said to him. 'Someone who knew Dean better than him'.

He started to look through his phone contacts and stopped when he saw a certain number. Should he call the number? What was he going to say? It's not like anyone was going to believe him.

"What's up Jensen? Jensen? Hey?" Misha waved his hands in front of Jensen to get his attention.

"Yeah what?" "You okay?"

"Not really. Gen said something or rather to talk to someone who knows Dean better than me", Jensen said.

"Knows Dean better than you? Who-do you mean?" Misha raised his eyebrows, "well you should follow Gen's advice. She may be right".

"What am I supposed to say? I can't just say that hey, so sam and dean are real and I need Dean to trust me", Jensen said causing Misha to roll his eyes.

"Who are you going to say what?" Jared tilted his head in confusion.

"I'm gonna call up Eric", Jensen looked at Jared and tried to read his expression.

"Kripke?" Jared's eyebrows shot up.

"No Brady", Jensen snapped at him.

"What are you gonna say to him?" Jensen looked down at the ground, "You don't know what you're gonna say to him".

"I'll figure it out", Jensen said and dialed Eric's number.

Eric picked up the phone after three rings.

"Jensen! What's wrong?" Eric asked.

"How'd you know something was wrong?" Jensen asked cautiously. Did someone tell him about Dean and Sam?

"Last time you called me, you were having problem with the finale script", Jensen could practically see Eric rolling his eyes, "what is it? Spill".

"Okay, I promise to call you more often. No problem with scripts. I'm kinda having some trouble with Dean and well, Jared's having problem with Sam too", Jensen said while looking at his friend.

"That's new. You never had a trouble with the guys. You both are literally Dean and Sam now", Eric chuckled.

"Till now I also thought I knew Dean very well but now I don't think I know him anymore. It is-if a person someone breaks the uh-trust of the Winchester...unintentionally, is there any way that they will ever forgave let alone trust the person again?"

"That's a very specific question. I can answer that if the Winchesters had trusted the person once, they will trust him again but the person has to do a lot of work to earn back their trust. Think about what you will do if someone broke your trust", Eric said.

"Me?" Jensen said and scrunched up his face in confusion.

"Yes. Believe it or not. You are a lot like Dean. Put yourself in his shoes. Think about why the person broke the trust. Was it because he tried to gain something out of it or was it just a misunderstanding?", Eric said.

Jensen pursed his lips and nodded and smacked his forehead remembering he was calling him. All the stress was messing up his head.

"I get it Eric", Jensen said.

"The Winchesters, they have been through so much, trust issues are the part of the baggage they carry around", Jensen hummed in response to Eric, "Talk to them".

"What?" Jensen froze and his eyes widened, "t-talk to..them?" Jensen asked receiving a look from both Jared and Misha.

"Jensen, you may not call me but did you really think I wouldn't know that the characters I had created are alive whether they have came from another universe, it doesn't matter. Talk to the Winchesters. Make them understand. They, especially Dean will try to get on your nerves but don't let his words get into your head. Dean is stubborn so are you. They will understand", Eric finished his speech but Jensen didn't say anything, "Jensen you there?"

"Huh? Uh-yeah. I-I get it what you're saying", Jensen spoke quietly.

"I hope everything works out. Oh and Jensen, it was Richard who told me about Sam and Dean if you are wondering. It's just bad timing that I'm in another country", Eric said and the phone disconnected with a click.

Jensen stood there looking dumbfounded.

"So?" Jared urged.

"A wise man once said, if you need to earn back the trust, you gotta talk it out", Jensen said.

"Who said that?" Jared raised an eyebrow.

"Eric", Jensen shrugged getting a look from Jared, "The Winchesters didn't leave the set right?" Jensen asked.

"No. That's what Al Cal said", Misha shrugged.

"Okay. Who wants to join me to prevent Dean from killing me? And Eric knows about the Winchesters. That man", Jensen chuckled.

"What? How?" Jared and Misha yelled in unison.

"Blame the Trickster".

"Hey Alex! Where did you last see the brothers?" Jensen asked.

"They were in the parking lot", Alex said, "Why?"

"We gotta talk to them", Jared replied.

"Okay", Alex said with a tone of uncertainty.

"It's better if you both talk to the Winchesters. I'm gonna hang back at the set", Misha said. Jared and Jensen shared a look and nodded at their costar.

They reached the parking lot but Sam and Dean weren't there. "Did they leave the set?" Jared asked.

"The Winchesters may be reckless but they are not stupid. Come on, I think I know where to find them", Jensen said and started walking towards the set.

Jared followed his friend and found himself on the set where they kept Baby.

"I knew it", Jensen whispered to Jared. Jared looked over and it felt like watching themselves on the television.

Dean was sitting on the hood of the impala and Sam was leaning against the door beside. The only thing missing were two bottles of beer in their hands.

"You really want to trust a bunch of actors? Come on Sammy, we can do better than that", Dean scoffed.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Sam asked. Jensen decided to not eavesdrop anymore and he cleared his throat attracting the attention of both the brothers.

.

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Forever taglist - @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl

Wrong Universe taglist - @mrswhozeewhatsis @squirrelnotsam @lostlittlenerd @this-is-spn @millieccino