#one of sammy’s greatest achievements in life

[angel-milano]

Write your RPer Resolutions for 2024! (What are some goals for yourself as a writer? Improve descriptions? Plot with more members? Etc.)

STOP HOARDING REPLIES!! This is probably my greatest sin as a roleplayer. For some reason there is a worm in my head that is always like “if you can’t do it all at once don’t do it at all.” NO!!! I have to let myself be okay if replies are spaced out or if I only do a handful every day. I don’t know where this bad habit came from but I’m determined to at least try to break it in the new year.

Plot more!! It can be intimidating for me to reach out to others out of nowhere, even if I have ideas. And I have to let the fact that just because not every idea sticks doesn’t mean I shouldn’t continue to reach out in the future. I want to go through everyone’s questionnaire and resolutions and see what plots and connections I can fill in!

Events!! I want to participate more in Discord. It’s really easy for me to say “well, Darius wouldn’t be there”--PUT HIM IN THERE ANYWAY!! No rules, just roleplay!

Kudos!! I admire you all so much and need to express that more openly!

Diversify my portfolio!! We all know I’m picking up Bones, but in general I want to pick up characters that are a) wanted and b) expand who I am able to interact with. Get involved in groups like university, RAS, Muses, natives, etc.

Write at least one resolution, or “goal,” that you have as an RPer for your character(s)

Angel: Get involved, whether through MAFIA or Magick Grand Prix. More likely the former, but maybe her becoming more confident in her magick status will lead to the latter! I’m really enjoying this competitive sporty streak that’s come out and want to lean more into that.

Continue to build relationships! The biggest obstacle for Angel is that she doesn’t have connections, so she’s going to have to make them! It’s already beginning with Tanya and Mim but I want MORE!

Darius: Be Dadrius. He’s already started to wriggle his way into Uncle-ing the Weed Killers and I just think he should continue to do that. And outside of his specific Boiling Isles children, connect with other students as well! Be a mentor! Continue on Caleb’s memory!

But also, make adult friends! Put yourself out there! Be the messy bitch who lives for drama that I know you are!

Luisa: Make friends! Go on dates! Maybe, just MAYBE, be a little introspective and try to improve your life and situation! But probably not that one. She’s got to take the first steps by opening herself up to others, even if that just means making time to go out every once in a while. 

Write at least one resolution IN CHARACTER for your characters. What do THEY want to accomplish or change in the New Year?

Angel: Find out more about her Dad so she can get out of this town (no). Raise the Lionesses to Champion status and/or join a winning team.

Darius: Figure out what’s going on with Hunter and Belos. Get a good grade in teaching, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

Luisa: Try to prevent a disaster BEFORE it happens! Learn more about Dungeons and Dragons (she has the Dropout subscription, after all) 

List one or more characters you have never interacted with that you would like to do so

Sammy’s characters: I’M SORRY SAMMY!! I feel like we’re two ships who just keep passing each other in the night, and that is entirely on me. We WILL interact this year. I will make SURE OF IT!!

Merida: I just think she and Angel would be neat. They’re both looking for a family member (though for very different reasons) and I think would play off each other with their personalities.

San: More wolves! San and Angel on the Lionesses together! They have to know the other is a wolf but haven’t said anything yet. I just think it would be neat.

Wolf: I promise this isn’t going to be a list of just werewolves but Wolf is also a born wolf, which I think would be an interesting dynamic!

Shang: He and Angel are both looking for their Dads maybe they can help each other out with that. Idk I just want to interact with the pretty man.

Emira: Phineas is setting Angel up with Edric but I feel like she and Emira would vibe more.

Blights: By extension, Darius should just run into all the Blights more often.

Majke: We’ve already started discussing this but I just think she and Darius would be messy friends.

Maximus: This is another one of those “idk what to do but your face is so pretty and I love you”

Seamus: See the above. Am I shallow wanting to interact with face claims that I personally love lmao

Zero: I’m sorry I keep doing this but also he was one of my fcs when I first joined Swynlake! I think it would be great to come full circle!

Kim: We also started discussing this, but she and Luisa should be friends! I just think it would be neat for them to solve a crime together. Maybe some action scenes??

The Madrigals: This one might be a bit of a cop-out, but I’d love to explore the familial relationships that don’t get showcased in the movie! I still have many that I haven’t interacted with yet and I want to hit up everyone at least once by the end of the year

Toby: I have nothing for this, he just seems like a funny character and I want to interact with him

Talk a bit about your plotting style – what plots are you most drawn to? Do you prefer to come with a fully-formed idea and plot off that, or throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks?

Alright, I feel like I really dug a hole and exposed myself with the above list. Sometimes my plotting can literally just be vibes alone and throwing anything to the wall to see what sticks.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t like fully thought out plots and planned out dynamics! In fact, they are some of my favorites! While it is fun to just throw characters together and see what happens, it’s also just as fun to jump right into a relationship that’s been deeply established through headcanon alone. Giving characters a history and dynamic ahead of time means you can start getting to the fun stuff right away without having to do the “getting to know you” banter over and over again.

As for plots I’m drawn to, I love a mess. I love when characters feel things strongly, are in the wrong, and generally just mess things up. And I love playing all sides of the mess whether it’s the messy person, the person trying to fix it, the bystander, or whatever else. I just think there should be a healthy amount of conflict to keep a plot moving and to kickstart character growth.

Talk a bit about character relationships – what relationships are you most drawn to? How do you prefer to approach shipping (if at all!)? What, specifically, are you looking for right now for your character relationships? 

I love family of all kinds! I love deep friendships. I love rivalries, especially one-sided ones where a character hates another for hardly justifiable reasons. I love messy exes. I love toxic relationships where they bring out the worst in each other. And yes, I do love a good romance.

While chemistry comes first, I am also capable of shipping based on vibes or tropes because generally, if you’re planning it out with someone ahead of time, you’re usually on the same page in terms of what you like/what you want to see/etc. Of course things can and will change! But I’ll admit some of my favorite ships have been ones that were plotted out, and some of my other favorites came completely organically. We have the range.

Plotting Exercise! Pick one of the resolutions/goals in #3 and plan a rough guideline to how you could accomplish it. Here’s an example.

ANGEL wants to get involved with Pride U sports despite not actually being a student.

ANGEL goes to EILONWY to ask about intramural football.

ANGEL finds DOC to get falsified doctor’s notes to play without revealing her Magick status.

TANYA finds out about this and has a fight with ANGEL about how they’re going to blow their cover.

OPEN PLOT CALL to anyone who would be able to suss out what is going on

Perhaps TOBY writes an expose on the werewolf, revealing her to the town

Prejudice and exposure pushes her deeper into MAFIA territory where she connects with KAREN to learn more

Alternatively, approached by CRUZ who offers Magick-friendly sports alternatives

???

Profit (I swear I wrote this before the merm plot dropped lmao)

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO MARE COSMIA, NUNNALLY VI BRITANNIA. 🌗

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Sam/Sammi age: 27 Pronouns: commonly they/she but any are fine ooc contact: @ sorunort on twitter other characters in xc: Elizabeth Afton, Vanessa A., Kasque

  ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Nunnally vi Britannia age: 16 Pronouns: she/her series: Code Geass canon point: Post-Anime (Pre-Resurrection movie)

app triggers: Parental death, murder, colonialism, war, harm to a child, sibling death.

 personality:

Despite the hardships in her life, Nunnally is a gentle soul. She’s a very kind and empathetic girl, as her greatest wish is for the world to become a peaceful place. At times she can be lonesome, wishing her brother, Lelouch, would stay home with her, so she appreciates company. Nunnally is capable of making tough decisions, and will shoulder burdens if it means creating the world she wants to see, though not without some heartache. There are also times where she’s fed up with people lying to her or perhaps pitying her because of her disabilities and she puts her foot down. Ultimately she just doesn’t want anyone to suffer and wishes for people to get along.

something your muse struggles with: Dependency. Nunnally relies on people to take care of her, and this isn’t a bad thing, but it prevents her from changing the world. Nunnally wants to change the world in her own way, namely through gentler methods like peace ties between countries, and she ends up becoming the viceroy of Japan so that she can achieve this goal and hopefully make a greater impact. But even then she is used as a political figurehead and rarely gets to make any big decisions of her own. Her dependency has resulted in her being lied to, kidnapped, held hostage, and left to deal with the consequences of Zero’s rebellion on her own. 

your muse’s greatest strength: Kindness. At her core, Nunnally yearns for peace and an end to fighting. Unlike Lelouch, Nunnally can’t be as cold or calculating as him, and he once said Nunnally’s smile is her greatest characteristic- since she can’t see or walk and needs assistance, her way of expressing gratitude is through her smile, as it’s the least she can do in return.

history / background:

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say Nunnally’s life revolves around her older brother, Lelouch. Born as Prince and Princess to Britannia’s Royal Family, the siblings lived relatively carefree early lives together alongside their mother and half siblings. However that all changed when their mother was murdered and Nunnally’s legs were paralyzed in the attack. She lost her sight shortly thereafter as well. Their father, the Emperor, sent Lelouch and Nunnally away to Japan as political hostages. They stayed at the Kururugi shrine and met Suzaku there. The three kids became the best of friends.

Unfortunately, Britannia invaded Japan a few months later, and the siblings were listed as among the casualties, when in reality they’d gone into hiding. The Ashford family took them in and enrolled Lelouch and Nunnally into their academy under the surname ‘Lamperouge.’ Given her disabilities, Nunnally relied heavily on Lelouch to take care of her, and after everything they’d been through she couldn’t bear the thought of ever being separated. So long as she could stay with Lelouch, she would be happy.

Seven years passed. Nunnally lived a normal life attending school and living with her brother. One day they made a pinky promise not to lie and Lelouch asked what she wished for. Nunnally answered she wished for the world to become a gentle place. Slowly things started to change after that. A girl named CC showed up so she showed her how to make origami. Lelouch was gone more frequently. Suzaku enrolled in the Ashford Academy. A rebellion sparks in Japan between Britannia and a group calling themselves The Black Knights. She’s kidnapped and rescued. Her half-sister, Princess and sub-viceroy Euphemia, visits and they get to talk and reminisce about their childhood and how they both wished they could go back to the old days.

Euphemia is killed.

Nunnally is kidnapped yet again only this time Lelouch never makes it to her rescue. The Britannian Emperor holds her hostage for a year until Nunnally becomes the next Viceroy of Japan so that she may continue Euphemia’s work on peace operations. Eventually she discovers the truth of everything- that Lelouch is Zero, the leader of the rebellion, with a power known as Geass. He and Suzaku have been lying to her about everything from the beginning.

Her beloved big brother was now her enemy, and she was the last obstacle standing in his way.

powers / abilities: N/A

inherent abilities: She can tell a person is lying or understand their intentions by holding their hand. Do not ask me to elaborate because the show doesn’t.

items / weapons: 

Wheelchair. It’s plush, pink, bigger than she is, and automated so that she can operate it without her sight. A person could still push it for her.

The Key to Damocles. It’s a small staff with a button that deploys a bomb, but given that the fortress, Damocles, burnt up and the key isn’t connected to anything, it’s harmless! Just a stick to remind her of worse times.

Origami set.

Cell phone.

starting ability: N/A starting item: Cell phone

extra: 

Oh look, it’s sammi, back with another little sister whos devoted to her big brother. What else is new

[shoves all the bad and heavy topics from code geass aside and into a closet] we’re not going to talk about any of that on main.

Nunnally’s blindness was a result of her dad Geassing her into believing she was blind and now that she’s broke through that Geass she can see again.

Literally all she wanted was to stay with lelouch and she never asked him to change the world for her and he never asked if she wanted that. I’m SO ILL.

discord id: a.gentle.world

[aus-wnt]

https://thewest.com.au/sport/soccer/sam-kerr-awarded-medal-of-the-order-of-australia-for-service-to-football--c-5424955

How cool! Go Sammy!

Sam Kerr awarded Medal of the Order of Australia for service to football

Sam Kerr has two simple focuses heading into every game she plays — what she can do for her team and what she can do for fans watching.

As one of the most popular athletes in the world, the Perth-born soccer superstar is fully aware of her influence.

In a week that has already seen Kerr anointed Australian football’s greatest international goalscorer, for her service to soccer the 28-year-old becomes one of the nation’s latest Medal of the Order of Australia recipients.

And with that honour comes a simple message.

“You never know who’s watching,” Kerr says.

“For me, I’ve always been myself and just gone about how I believe football and women’s sport should be broadcast.

“That’s brought people in and allowed people to be comfortable and give people confidence to do things they’ve never really done.

“The OAM sits right up there with one of my biggest achievements. Whenever you get recognised for doing what you love and playing for your country, it’s an amazing honour.

“I don’t go out there wanting a pat on the back.

“I don’t see this as an individual award. I’ve had so many people, teammates and coaches help me along this journey.

“Who would’ve thought someone in the Matildas team would receive this?”

Despite all she’s achieved on the international stage, Kerr is hungrier than ever to continue shaping the soccer universe.

“There’s so much I want to achieve. I want to win more trophies with the Matildas and with my club but I want to continue to grow the game and change the game and reach different people in different walks of life,” the Chelsea striker says.

“There’s so many communities that don’t have the resources to have young girls and boys grow up and play sport, so I’d love to get into that.

“I’d love to tap into my heritage and help Asian girls grow up (playing sport), but in Australia I’d also love to help with more pathways for young girls and boys in football.”

Even opposition players have been swept up in Kerr’s star power.

After helping instigate an 18-0 win over Indonesia at the Asian Cup last week, scoring five goals, Kerr was mobbed by awestruck Indonesian players.

“It’s something I pinch myself about,” she says.

“I remember my first Asian Cup, I was looking at players, thinking I can’t believe I’m on the same pitch as them.

“To be on the other side of that is an amazing thing and something I’m really proud of.

“I know what it meant to me back then.”

Kerr also hopes her award will lead to more women in sport being recognised.

“Times have changed and we’re getting more and more recognition but we’ve got to keep breaking down barriers, which is what things like this are for. To give people belief and give females the confidence to do what they love and what they’re passionate about, and do it with conviction,” she says.

[lucky-dreamfisher]

The Illusion of Living Notes and Spoilers

I feel like enough time has passed for everyone who wanted to get the audiobook to get it, so here are all the notes I made while reading the book.

Please do NOT show these spoilers to anyone who didn’t give their explicit permission to be spoiled! And do not try to sneaky-spoil while being vague and pretending you’re not spoiling either!

TIOL was written in 1941 and published in 1942

Joey’s biggest dream is to become a God

Joey is explicitly not straight (reaffirms his distaste for dating women multiple times in the book, purposely avoids intimate gestures when meeting female friends, and reacts negatively to a straight couple kissing in his presence) but can be interpreted as either gay or asexual, and there’s evidence supporting both of these interpretations

Joey doesn’t think of people as real. He thinks of them as fictional characters in a show (well, he isn’t wrong)

He witnessed a murder at 10, but isn’t bothered by it, because everyone’s fictional anyway (watsonian perspective: little sociopath, doylist perspective: smartest character in the franchise). It was on that day that he started thinking of people as characters in a play, including his own parents.

He likes to throw peanuts in the faces of vaudeville performers he doesn’t like. Very proud of his aim

Joey’s dad sends him a pair of boots every year as a gift. Joey throws them out and buys himself better ones

Though it’s implied that the stories he tells about his parents aren’t true

While in the army, he was bullied for liking girl stuff, like reading romance novels and genre fiction

Nathan and Joey are very close. Nathan often gives him business advice and knows some of his secrets. Nathan looks down on artistic-type people. Joey is the only artistic-type person he admires, mostly for being business-oriented. Nathan is all about money.

Nathan wears a suit, has perfectly slicked back hair, and an elegant mustache. Smokes Cigars. Calls himself Nate

Nathan says that Lottie (the girl from the preview) isn’t real. It’s implied that there are more made-up people in the book. The epilogue implies that Joey intends to bring the made-up people to life one day, just like the cartoons

After leaving the army, and before starting an animation studio, he worked at a bookstore together with Henry for a few years

He took late-night art classes together with Miss Lambert

Bendy was named after Joey’s friend, who murdered a man to take a photo of his dying face for an award show. Joey finds it inspiring. In his words: "Thank god for dark paths, they lead all great artists to their greatest creations". Joey also likes the name Bendy, because it means someone who bends the rules

Nathan says that Joey had a genuine change of heart in his old age, and had “too much guilt and worry”. Nathan is not pleased with that

Abby Lambert is one of Joey’s oldest friends, and the one who introduced him to Henry. She and Joey used to perform vaudeville acts together. Joey played a Devil and Abby played an Angel

It’s implied that Henry created the Butcher Gang, and they were some of his oldest characters, even older than Bendy, Boris, and Alice

Henry left a year after the studio’s creation because he wanted “something that isn’t Bendy” (it’s either that he felt like his creativity was being stifled by being forced to work on the same project all the time, or that he wanted a real family, as opposed to the “studio family” that Joey was satisfied with)

Joey disses Henry a lot in the book. He paints him as untalented, unimaginative, boring, and a poor dresser on top of that. Nathan thinks that pretending to not care about Henry is Joey’s “greatest illusion”

Nathan hates Henry and thinks that Joey’s going too easy on him (if BATDR is Nathan’s world, Henry’s gonna be screwed)

Sammy used to play music at a movie theatre when he was a teen and Joey came to watch his performance every day

They met again a few years later and Sammy recognized him. Joey hired him and Jack on the same day

Sammy smokes

Sammy and Jack performed jazz songs at vaudeville together for some time before working at JDS

Jack gets upset when people ignore him and only pay attention to Sammy. He loves being the center of attention, and has a knack for showmanship. Very optimistic and good natured

Sammy was hired a year after Henry’s departure and has never met him (curious, given that he recognizes Henry in the game) Not true - turns out Sammy was hired in October 1930, so he still could’ve met Henry

As part of his deal with Joey, Sammy has full creative control over his department and people he’s working with (did Sammy replace Susie?)

Sammy hates being at the center of attention and is always very serious. Making jokes comes hard for him, but he plays along sometimes. His expression is very hard to read and he always seems suspicious of people he’s talking with. He’s dressed very neatly and appropriately (unlike Jack, who wears bright and flashy clothes), his hair is long and not slicked back. He’s a few years younger than Joey, but acts much older

Joey thinks that Sammy is his best decision and the man who comes closest to fully understanding him. He takes pride in the fact that Sammy sticks by him for all these years out of his own will, and not because Joey makes him. He thinks Sammy is a genius and deserves to be worshipped like a god (he doesn’t hesitate to tell him that). Asked him once whether there’s anyone Sammy worships, and it’s painfully obvious that he wanted to hear that it’s him (Sammy replied that a god of this magnitude hasn’t been invented yet, which is a nice foreshadowing) 

Allison is already working at the studio at the time of TIOL. Before that, she was a Broadway actress. Joey likes to watch her recording sessions. It’s not confirmed which character she’s voicing, but Susie wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the book, so there’s a possibility that Allison was already voicing Alice Angel in 1941

Joey’s meetings with Jack Fain and Grant are just an excuse to have a coffee and chat with them

On his first meeting with Bertrum Joey got drunk and flirty with him. Bertrum told him he’s “not that kind of date” and Joey played dumb (the scene is played for laughs though, so idk if it’s supposed to be seriosuly indicative of Joey’s sexuality)

Bertrum returned from retirement to work on Bendyland

Disney exists in this universe, Joey wishes he could be able to achieve the same with Bendy

Nathan wants to prove “very soon” that he is limitless

The moving ink was developed as part of the Sillyvision film process at some point around 1941. The purpose of Sillyvision was to make corrections to images that have already been created, without having to redraw them from scratch. The ink is activated through contact with a special paper

Joey describes Bendyland’s conception, and the Dark Land sounds eerily similar to the studio world in BATIM & BATDR

Light Land is Alice’s Domain, and as the name suggests it will have many lights. It’s designed to create an illusion of being lifted up

Tiny Land is Boris’ Domain and it gives an illusion of getting shrunk

Big Land is Butcher Gang’s Domain and has giant airplanes and battleships

Joey hates the real world and wants to escape to a make-believe one. He was hoping Bendyland would be that for him. His greatest fear is being unable to create that perfect world, and creating only its dark reflection (ironic)

Joey feels like he won’t be able to truly die and rest his soul until his dream fully comes to life. He calls art his “doorway into immortality” (is Dapper Joey?)

Joey believes a soul is needed to make a lifeless artistic imitation of the world into a real breathing world. He says that he’s been looking for a soul for a long time (he means it metaphorically, but it feels like a foreshadowing)

[lilyshadowwriter]

Sims Tag Game

Rules:

Pick a sim of your choice

Tell us about them

Tag someone else (if you want to!)

I was tagged by @nocturnalazure​ to do the Sims Tag Game. Thank you so much for thinking of me! I’ll tag @lateknightsimmer​ because I want to hear more about her awesome sims, hehe ♥ Though if you don’t want to do this, feel free to ignore it, LOL.

Anyway, I’ll answer these questions for Joanne because hers is the story update I’m currently working on, so she’s the one that’s been reappearing in my posts!

Name: Joanne Madeline Winters

When is your sim’s birthday? You know, I deliberated over this for the longest, and finally I’m just going to confess that I don’t have birthdays for my sims *sweat drop* I never paid attention or thought much about it. They age up when they age up, lol. I mean, I know stuff like Joanne is older than the twins by 13 years and Milo was born at the end of summer, but ehh, other than that....I’m a bad sim mom lmao

What is your sim’s zodiac sign? Don’t know because of above

Marital Status: Married to Gabriel ♥

Does your sim have any nicknames? Pretty much everyone who knows her calls her “Jo”

Do they have a job? Yes, she’s the co-lead singer in an alternative indie duo called Convergence

Where does your sim live? On the shores of Starlight Shores

Who does your sim live with? Her husband Gabriel and their new little son, Milo

What environment did your sims grow up in? Not a great one, honestly. I went over it in more detail in Joanne’s generation recap post, but Jo’s biological mom took her own life when Jo was a baby and her dad spiraled into a bad depression that had him turning to drinking to cope. The appearance of Candice (her future step-mom) protected her from the worst of it, but still some of Joanne’s first memories are of her father passed out on the floor and Joanne crying and screaming for him to wake up :/

What is your sim’s favorite food? She likes lots of different foods really—pastas and seafood dishes though probably

What is your sim’s favorite drink? Lemonade

If they have one, what is your sim’s favorite color? Cornflower blue

Is your sim introverted or extroverted? Extroverted, though she has her shy, unsure moments

What is your sims favorite woohoo position? She likes being able to see her partner’s face in order to gauge their reactions—and kiss! :)

Is your sim a pet person? Not really, no. It’s not that she doesn’t like animals per se, but more that she doesn’t want to deal with the clean up that’s often involved with them. Dog hair all over her expensive new sofa? She’d prefer not, lol. She’s fussy like that.

Does your sim have a best friend? Her husband and her parents are her best friends, honestly, though she has become pretty close to Gabriel’s friends too now—Ryan, Dante, and Sammy.

What is / was your sim’s favorite school subject? Music

Are they planning to go or have they already been to college? She went to college and graduated with a B.A. in Music

Does your sim have a favorite TV show? No. She’s more of a casual TV watcher since committing to watching shows usually takes up a lot of time she doesn’t have. For that reason, she prefers movies.

Does your sim like books? She doesn’t hate them or anything, but she’s never been a big reader besides reading the books her dad writes

What is your sim’s personal style? A bit cutesy. She loves wearing peter pan collars, polka dots, and dresses or frilly skirts. She also loves to wear her favorite color—cornflower blue 😊

Is your sim religious? No. She has a general belief, yes, but it isn’t a big part of her life

What kind of music does your sim listen to? Pop, indie, alternative rock

What is your sim’s favorite type of weather? Sunny with a nice cool breeze!

Does your sim have a dream job? She is living her dream job ♥

Does your sim have any siblings? Yup, lots! Well, half-siblings. She has the twins, Augustus and Gemma; Tobias; and Thomas, the youngest.

Does your sim get along with their family? She does, yes. In fact, she loves them very much.

What is your sims favorite hobby? Singing and playing the piano

What does your sim look for in a romantic partner? Trustworthy, shares a love for music, makes her feel safe, gentle and accepting. Handsome helps too :)

What is a flaw your sim has? She is quite self-absorbed and often dramatic in that she has the tendency to make a bigger deal of things than they really are. She’s also sensitive to criticism, and her confidence is often shaken by a single sharp word or raised voice—but, I don’t know, that part has connections to her trauma, so...I wouldn’t blame her for that. It’s probably the self-absorption that’s her biggest flaw. She’s gotten loads better with it over the years, but she still has this tendency to feel she should be involved in everything and always paid attention to. She sometimes gets sulky when others are paid more attention than she is.

Does your sim have a greatest achievement? Starting a mega successful band with the man she loves and, of course, little Milo :)

If they have one, what is your sim’s greatest regret? Becoming so obsessed with the pursuit of fame that she lost sight of who she really was and hurt the people she loves the most, even going through a period where she didn’t speak to her family for several years. The impact of that is still felt today, and those years are gone—there’s no getting them back.

Thank you again for tagging me! ♥

[coureirsix]

supernatural season 16 episode 4 - “lifeline” |  ao3 link

it's roughly 11 PM on january 23rd when dean gets a call from eileen. he'd been out of the bunker with jack and cas for nearly three days; they'd taken jack to an amusement park. something about never seeing one before which reminded dean the last time he'd ever been to one, he was three years old and didn't remember a thing. which was fine, except that jack had wanted to go to six flags. he'd said something about finding old commercials with a dancing old man and the closest one was in kentucky. naturally, this wasn't an issue with dean. he'd driven farther for less, but on the way back he'd begun to realize that as he got older, the drives took more out of him. 

they'd gotten back earlier that afternoon and had spent most of the day lounging around until the exhaustion got the better of them at around nine. well, except jack. who could have just driven back to kentucky if he wanted to. cas made sure he didn't want to. so, it's saturday night, cas is breathing deeply beside him, completely asleep, jack is probably watching TV in the dean-cave, and dean has been drifting in and out of sleep for the past 20 minutes when his phone buzzes to the tune of the Call Me Maybe song. it's the tone he'd set up for eileen because, well, she never calls. so, when she does call, it's usually an emergency flare that's followed up with an explanatory text.

dean's eyes shoot awake and he watches the call miss as he waits a second for eileen's message to come in. 

dean, sam broke the tub. he can't get the hot water to stop running. SOS. please, my hair is disgustingly humid. his too. 

and dean laughs. it was an emergency, but the kind that didn't have him spiraling into a depression. that was... almost nice, he thinks. they have normal people problems now. he leans over to where cas is asleep beside him and cas' trained as well as dean is. he stirs awake with the movement and opens his eyes in a half-awake gesture.

“sam’s in trouble,” dean says with a smile. cas’ eyes shoot open, but dean’s demeanour doesn’t change, instead he follows up with, “he.. broke his bathtub somehow.”

cas squints. dean laughs some more and gets himself out of bed. he’s gotta find the little duffel bag that they’d dedicated to tools that didn’t include weapons of mass destruction. it shouldn’t be too hard to find. the last time they’d used it was when sam actually broke a door off its hinges. 

“i’m going back to sleep,” cas says, turning over as dean redresses. and dean laughs again. cas was grumpy when he was exhausted. it was endearing. 

it doesn’t take him too long to get ready to leave the bunker. he finds the duffel bag underneath the bathroom sink and before he knows it, he’s pulling out of the bunker’s vicinity in the impala and headed toward sam and eileen’s place. the issue with them is they live roughly 45 minutes away. he texts eileen back, letting her know he’s on his way. 

and dean thinks, as he drives over. that it’s his birthday tomorrow. well- he checks his phone, it’s basically his birthday. sunday january 24th, 2021. he didn’t think he’d live this long. he was the answer to the universe now, technically. 42. he looks down at his hands on the wheel. they’re worn. they’re the hands of a tired man who fought multiple apocalypses, multiple archangels, god himself. and won.

he takes a deep breath and thinks about sam. he loves his little brother more than he can ever explain. it’s unhealthy, probably, how much he’d done to save sam from everything. death, despair, sam himself that time he lost his soul. dean was there and willing to bleed for whatever sam needed. and he knew sam would always do the same. it was comforting. and even moreso now that they’d decided to take some time to really asses what was best for either of them. sam let himself want his apple pie life again. and it was the happiest day of dean’s life to see his little brother decorating the house he’d leased with eileen.

dean doesn’t hunt fulltime anymore. he’ll do an odd ghost job here and there, but mostly he mans the phones. he’s now FBI Supervisor Agent Harkness, police chief Richard Grayson, at cas’ request Texas Ranger Dean Swift, and at jack’s request Marlo Bridgers.it’s a living, he thinks. he still helps out other hunters and he passes off the bigger jobs to the younger people that’ve unfortunately ended up in the hunting life. 

mostly, though, he and cas have been making up for lost time. they go out on dates. dates, like embarrassing 15 year olds. he’s taken cas to the movies, they’ve gone for walks at the mall. dean held cas’ hand under a tree and it was the most incredible thing in the world. 

it’s embarrassing, it’s enough to make himself blush at the memory of it, but it’s also nice in that same breath. it brings him a sense of peace like he’s never fully properly known. because it’s about trust. and not trust in cas, not trust in himself, hell, the trust has nothing to do with either of them. it has to do with the fact that dean has finally let himself trust that things are going to be okay. that no matter what happens, he’s going to be okay.

and that’s what he thinks about when he’s sitting across from cas at the baskin robbins. that they’re safe. that things are okay. because they are, dean’s earned that much through his own tears and blood.

the sound of wind hitting the impala as he drives down the highway closer to sam and eileen is the melody to the memories of his life as it has been since they got rid of chuck and jack put god’s power back into the universe.

he pulls into the driveway of sam’s cookie cutter house. he’s in the middle of the driveway but dean doesn’t care and he knows neither sam nor eileen would care either. besides, the impala outshines the two normal cars they drive. he grabs the duffel bag and heads for the door, waiting for a second before the door clicks and he sees eileen in a crack in the door. he smiles at her.

“dean!” she says, visibly excited. dean keeps his smile on his face and waves, unsure why she’d be so excited that he’s here at practically midnight to fix her bathtub. she reaches out to grab his wrist and pull him into the house. she leads him through dark down the little hall that dean knows leads into the bathroom. dean notices there is no humidity in the house.

“eileen? is everything-” dean starts to ask when the lights flick on, blinding dean for a second before it clicks that it’s a party. it’s a party at midnight for him. 

he sees jody, donna, alex, claire and kaia. sam and bobby among several other hunters dean had come to know. it’s a full house, yet dean notices the lack of jack and cas. there’s a stack of presents in a corner behind the kitchen, a cake with a single candle on the table. claire is approaching him with a party hat in her hands and an evil look on her face. dean glances over at eileen, who’s beaming at him. she knows what she did. led zeppelin comes through a little speaker in the corner, not too loud, but loud enough that its ambiance music now. 

dean lets himself get wrapped in a hug from claire and then lets her put the hat on him before sam approaches him.

“this your idea?” dean asks. sam grins, but shakes his head.

“no, actually. i wanted to do it tomorrow morning. show up at the bunker with everyone, but, i know someone with worse intentions than me who said that tricking you into coming here at the moment of your birthday would be something you couldn’t see coming,” sam opens his arms and dean lets himself fall in. he hugs his little brother back and the emotions from earlier come back. he and sam were alive. dean’s greatest achievement in life was keeping sam alive and now here he was, reaping the benefits.

he goes through similar motions with everyone. jody gives him a hug and then leans up to kiss him on the temple. donna squeezes him so hard he swears his insides are flattened. 

after a few moments of getting caught up with everyone, sam sits him down at the table where the cake is. dean rubs his hands, ready to light the candle in it when sam makes this “uh-uh” sound. dean looks up at him in confusion when eileen brings over a pie with those large novelty number candles set into it. 42 sure was a year. 

dean sits there in the obligatory hot seat as everyone gathers around and sings him happy birthday. it’s awkward, it makes him blush and tears well up in his eyes, although nobody can really see it through the dimmed lights. and he looks around and his smile saddens a bit. he should have told cas to come with him. did sam not think to text jack?

he goes through the motions and cuts the first slice of the pie for himself and passes off the pastry to sam and eileen who take care of passing out the rest of it and the cake that’d been there. dean looks around, hoping cas and jack had been right behind him as sam brings him over a whiskey. it goes down ridiculously smooth. sam mentions he ran one last credit card scam for $3,000 whiskey for this. dean laughs and asks for another.

the night winds down fairly quickly, given it’s nearly three in the morning by the time everyone’s settled down into a less partying mood. dean ends up sitting outside with sam in some lawn chairs from walmart in sam’s cookie cutter back yard. eileen’s gone to bed and most everyone has gone home by then.

“you ever think we’d live this long?” sam asks.

“nope,” dean says without hesitation, “sammy, you died when you were twenty two. i died at twenty seven? twenty eight? god, i don’t even remember.”

“and those were just the first times,” sam says with an incredulous laugh.

“shit,” dean laughs with him, “yeah.”

“and we got out,” sam says. there’s a satisfaction in his voice that makes every single time dean died or did anything stupid for sam worth it. it’s a tone that dean knows means sam is happy. and that’s it, that was dean’s goal.

“we did,” dean agrees, taking another sip of the whiskey, “we beat hell, we beat heaven, we beat purgatory, we beat god.”

“kicked god’s ass,” sam affirms, “we get to choose what we want to do now. we write our own destiny now.”

dean reaches over and outstretches his glass. sam meets him halfway and they toast to that. dean watches sam pull his phone out and send off a quick text message. probably eileen telling him to go to bed.

they sit in silence for a while. and sam’s phone vibrates. dean watches him check it and not respond. trouble in paradise? he doubts it, but he doesn’t really know every single thing about sam anymore.

“i know you’re gonna tell me to shut up, but i do have to say, dean. thank you,” sam looks over at him.

“for?” dean asks.

“for everything, man,” sam has this look on his face like he’s going to cry, “you raised me. you were always there for me. im thirty eight, nearly sixteen years overdue if you hadn’t sold your soul to save me. i’m who i am because of you, and i like to think i’m in pretty good shape. and you, dean. i’m so proud of you. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met. and i love you, and i’m happy that it was you that i got to have be my big brother.”

dean actually cries, but he turns around so that sam can’t see it. he composes himself in a second and turns back. he doesn’t have it in him to fight sam on the emotional distress this is causing him. instead he says, “thanks, sam. i’m glad i got to be your big brother, too.”

sam’s phone buzzes again. he checks it again and this time does respond. he sighs and looks over at dean again, “i gotta go. eileen says the bed is too cold.”

dean huffs a laugh and nods, “go fix that.”

sam nods and gets up. dean hears the door that leads back into the house slide open and then slide shut. and dean is left with himself at the end of it all. he sighs. he’s happy, he thinks.

and then he hears an unmistakable flutter. 

“dean!” he hears jack yell. it’s louder given it’s three in the morning and most people in this neighbourhood are asleep.

“i’m so sorry,” jack says, rushing up to dean’s side, “we were planning to be there for the cake but it wasn’t ready and we kept trying to fix things-”

“fix what?” dean asks, curiously. he’s not mad.

“the-” jack stops short, looking behind dean. and dean realizes the missing piece of his birthday puzzle has to be behind him.

and he is. the angel castiel is standing behind dean on the cement part of the patio a few feet back, wearing one of dean’s old band tshirts under his trench coat. and there’s a book in his hands. 

“happy birthday, dean,” cas says, a little smile on his face.

dean gets up. his foot nearly kicks the whiskey glass he set down with the speed he gets up at. and he doesn’t waste any time in grabbing the sides of cas’ face and pressing the most heartfelt, loving, tender kiss dean has ever given anyone in his life. there’s a warmth that always seems to be radiating from cas and dean wants to stick to it like a leech.

when he pulls back, cas keeps the little smile on his face and hands dean the book. it’s a photo album, he realizes, once he takes it and opens it. there’s- there’s baby pictures of him there. things that were surely lost in the fire in lawrence. as he flips through the album, he finds pictures of him and sam growing up. things nobody had ever photographed before, he’s pretty sure. at one point he finds a picture of him at age twelve, lying on roof of the impala.

“cas,” dean asks, in completely disbelief, “where did you get these?”

“i did!” jack says coming from behind dean in an awkward hug from behind, “i can still tap into the power of god if i want to. it wasn’t hard to pop into different points of your life and just take a picture.”

dean turns back and pulls jack forward to pull him into a better hug as he laughs. that’s somehow the craziest thing he’s ever heard. 

“happy birthday, dad,” jack says. and he tenses against dean.

“did you just call me dad?” dean asks.

“no,” jack lies. 

“right,” dean says, a grin on his face that he looks up and notices that cas shares.

“well, it’s kinda creepy that you existed for a second at different points in my life, but i love it, jack. a walk down memory lane, shit and all. i love it, thank you, son” and he leans down to press a kiss against the top of jack’s head.

“this what kept you?” dean asks cas as jack lets go and says he’s heading inside.

cas nods and he says with a little shrug, “it seemed like a kind gesture. i sort of gave him points to land on. that way he didn’t land in the middle of a hunt or something. i’m sorry, dean.”

dean shakes his head and goes to set the book down on the chair he’d been sitting in and he walks back over to cas. where cas is standing, there’s a cement step between the cement patio area and the grass that dean and sam had been sitting in. it makes it so cas is a few inches taller than dean. 

dean finds himself turning around so that cas can come around him, head coming to rest on dean’s shoulder and his arms coming around dean’s middle.

“thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” dean says with a mocking tone.

“and miss your forty-second birthday?” cas asks, turning to press a kiss to the side of dean’s face. they look up at the sky and dean wonders how exactly he got there. there’s a feeling in his chest that he doesn’t understand, but he knows what it is. it’s peace, it’s happiness. 

“i have a speech prepared for you,” cas says softly. his hands tap at dean’s stomach and dean brings up his own hands to cover them.

“right, right. something about how my eyes glitter like the moon?” dean asks, his tone is still jokey.

“something like that,” cas says, “and moreso how you’ve been the world’s lifeline and how i’m so happy you’re finally thinking of yourself.”

dean’s heart sinks a little as cas continues.

“you know sam loves you, you know your friends love you. you know that i love you with the wrath of heaven behind me. and somehow that doesn’t compare to the happiness i feel now that i know that you finally love you.”

dean’s face goes completely red. the warmth is different from the warmth of the next kiss that cas places against his cheek again. 

“thank you,” he chokes out, voice breaking because he’s started crying again, “i... i don’t have heaven. but i love you with the power of a guy who fought god.”

cas laughs, “and won,” he adds.

dean’s blush comes down a little and he leans back just a little, so he can turn and meet cas full on in another kiss before turning back to look out at the normal neighbourhood sam’s found himself in. 

“do you think we could do something like this? cookie cutter house. you me and the kid?” dean asks.

“if you think you’re prepared to let the bunker go, i don’t see why not,” cas responds. 

the thought of turning the bunker’s lights out for good makes dean feel a certain kind of way. still, though. now it’s a thought that’s popped into his head. who knows. 

for now, he’s content to stand there with his angel, looking out at the other backyards, at the stars while their respective kids sleep in the house. 

[samanthaa-leanne]

*Whispers* Do them all! (If you're okay with it)

YES THANK YOU!!!!!

3 Fears: Spiders, snakes, and death.

3 things I love: Moon, pizza, animals.

2 turns on: Anime boys and more anime boys.

2 turns off: Non anime boys and uhh non anime boys.

My best friend: oof I have a lot. Theres my HS bff Krista, as well as @handsoffmyfriends @shinsou-lovin-hours-anon @yeet-these-hoez @taepoppin & @asadgwen

Sexual orientation: Bisexual.

How tall am I: 5′5 5′6 ish.

What do I miss right now: Getting 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Favourite color: Blue.

Do I have a crush: On about a million anime boys.

Favourite place: Beach.

What am I listening to right now: I’m watching Criminal Minds 

Shoe size: Don’t make fun of me but 10.5/11. I have big feet.

Eye color: Blue.

Hair color: Brown with blonde highlights.

Meaning behind my URL: It’s my first name with an additional A and my middle name

Favourite song: At the moment? Brand New Vision by Point North

Favourite band: Way too many to count. 

How I feel right now: Happy

Someone I love: All of you

My current relationship status: Married

My relationship with my parents: Ehh okay..

Favourite season: Summer/Fall

Tattoos and piercing i have: My ears used to be pierced and I have a matching tattoo with my dad

Tattoos and piercing i want: I have an anime sleeve planned, a moon phase tattoo, and a few song lyric tattoos. 

The reasons I joined Tumblr: I honestly don’t remember

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: No :(

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?: Yes.

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: Like 20 minutes

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?: Nope

Where am I right now?: My house

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?” The louder the better

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?: Nope. I own my own house

Am I excited for anything?: I have a trip to japan planned for October

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?: My brother Alex is honestly one of the best people in my life.

How often do I wear a fake smile?: 8 hours a day M-F while I’m at work

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?: Tom Holland or Johnny Depp or Jim Carrey. Honestly so many people

What do I think about most?: Haikyuu and BNHA

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?: Behind

What was the last lie I told?: That I don’t smoke pot lol

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?: I prefer to text

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?: Yes and yes

Do I believe in magic?: Yes

Do I believe in luck?: Yes

What’s the weather like right now?: Its 92 degrees rn

What was the last book I’ve read?: I’m re-reading the House of Night series by P.C and Kristin Cast

Do I have any nicknames?: A lot. Sam, Sami, Sam I Am, Sammy Sosa, Bubbles

Do I spend money or save it?:  A little of both

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?: No :(

Favourite animal?: Penguins and Flamingos

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?: Sleeping

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?: Falling Like The Stars by Cole Norton

What is my favorite word?: Any cuss word. Probably fuck 

My top 5 blogs on tumblr: @myherowritings @handsoffmyfriends @akaashichigo @burnedbyshoto @gallickingun and so many more

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?: What’s up bitches

Do I have any relatives in jail?: Nope

What is my current desktop picture?: My Karasuno babies

Had sex? Yes

Bought condoms? Yes

Gotten pregnant? Nope

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Maybe? I don’t remember

Had job?: Yes

Smoked weed? Yes

Smoked cigarettes? No

Drank alcohol? Yes

Am I a vegetarian/vegan? No 

Been overweight? Yes

Been underweight? No 

Gotten my heart broken? Yes

Been to prom? No

Been in airplane? Yes

Learned another language? Kinda? I did 4 years of German in HS but I don’t remember most of it.

Wore make up? Yes

Dyed my hair? Yes

Had a surgery? Does oral surgery count? I had my  wisdom teeth taken out

Met someone famous? No

Stalked someone on a social network? Maybe...

Been fishing? Yes

Been rejected by a crush? Yes

What do I want for birthday? Anything anime related tbh or maybe another tattoo

Do I like my handwriting? Ew no

Where do I want to live when older? North Carolina or somewhere where there’s no snow

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? No

What I’m really bad at: Drawing

What my greatest achievments are: My SMAU’s

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: My dad called me a cunt one time 

What I’d do if I won in a lottery: Pay off my house and my car and buy my mom the house she deserves.

What do I like about myself: My eyes

My closest Tumblr friend: @handsoffmyfriends

Any question you’d like? I really like the swings

Are you outgoing or shy? A little bit of both

What kind of people are you attracted to? Anime boys

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?: Yes

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Nope

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?: My brother

What does the most recent text that you sent say? lol ok

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Me Against Myself by Wage War, Remembering Sunday by All Time Low, The Langdon House by Issues, Brand New Vision by Point North, Favorite Place by All Time Low.

Do you like it when people play with your hair?: AHHH YES

Do you think there is life on other planets?:  For sure

Do you like bubble baths? Yes

Do you like your neighbors? Yes

Where would you like to travel? Japan, Ireland, UK, Italy.

Favorite part of your daily routine? Leaving work lol

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My stomach

What do you do when you wake up? Go pee

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Nope

Do you ever want to get married? I’m already married

If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Sorta.

Would you rather live without TV or music? Neither

Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yes

What are your favorite stores to shop in? Target

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Depending on what they do

Do you smile at strangers? Sometimes

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?: Nope

Ever wished you were someone else?: Sometimes

Favourite makeup brand?: I don’t use makeup

Last thing you ate?: Pizza

Ever won a competition? For what? Nope

Ever been in love? Yes

Facebook or Twitter? Twitter

Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr

Are you watching tv right now? Yes, Criminal Minds

What colour are your towels? Multicolored

Favourite ice cream flavour? Cookie n Cream

First person you talked to today? My husband

Last person you talked to today? My husband

Name a person you hate? I don’t hate anybody

Name a person you love? Everyone of you

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Probably lol

Do you tan a lot? Not anymore

Have any pets? 2 dogs and a kitty cat

Do you type fast? Yes

Do you regret anything from your past?: Ohh boy yes

Ever broken someone’s heart?: Probably @handsoffmyfriends with all my angst

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?: Yes

Is cheating ever okay? No

Do you believe in true love? Yes

What your zodiac sign? Virgo

Do you believe in ghosts? Yes

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? (via catscuddlingandyou) “Beautiufl, see the cloud, the cloud appear. Beautiful, see the rain,  the rain draw near.”

[resilientsovl]

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME:  samuel  william  winchester. PRONUNCIATION:  pronounced  how  it’s  spelled. MEANING:  so  from   the  hebrew  name  שְׁמוּאֵל,  it  means  god  has  heard,  or  name  of  god.  it’s  a  little  ironic  considering  sam  is  lucifer,  god’s  fallen  son’s,  true  vessel.   REASONING:  sam  was  named  after  his  maternal  grandfather,  samuel  campbell. NICKNAME(S):  sam,  sammy,  little  winchester,  moose,  738273  other  height  related  nicknames. PREFERRED NAME(S):   sam. BIRTH DATE:  may  2,  1983. AGE:  honestly  he’s  not  sure.  he’s  died  3-4  times,  been  the  vessel  for  demons  and  archangels  which  probably  stalled  his  physical  aging  too.  i  say  he’s  probably  biologically  somewhere  around  35,  even  though  he’s  technically  47ish. ZODIAC: taurus. GENDER:  cismale. PRONOUNS:   he/him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  heteroromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  bisexual.  (  he  can  appreciate  that  men  are  attractive,  has  probably  even  slept  with  a  couple,  but  has  no  desire  to  be  in  romantic,  serious,  relationships  with  men.  ) NATIONALITY:  american. ETHNICITY:   wonderbread  white. CURRENT LOCATION:  san  francisco,  ca. LIVING CONDITIONS:   a  crappy  two  bedroom  apartment  he  rents  by  the  month.  it’s  small,  not  in  a  great  neighborhood,  but  it  does  the  trick.   TITLE(S):   n/a.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE:   lawrence,  kansas. HOMETOWN:  technically  lawrence  kansas,  but  they  moved  around  frequently.   SOCIAL CLASS:  blue  collar. EDUCATION LEVEL:   undergraduate  degree  from  stanford.   FATHER:   john  winchester. MOTHER:   mary  winchester  (  neé  campbell  ).   SIBLING(S):   dean  winchester,  adam  milligan  (  half  ).   BIRTH ORDER:  dean,  sam,  adam.   CHILDREN:  jack  kline  (  adopted  /  unofficially  ) PET(S):   n/a. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES:  bobby  singer,  pseudo  uncle.   castiel,  pseudo  brother  /  brother-in-law.   SIGNIFICANT  OTHER:   natasha  herrera,  wife.  (  separated  ) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS:   jessica  moore,  amelia  richardson,  meg,  sarah  blake,  ruby,  a  few  one  night  stands,  amy  pond  (  first  kiss  ),  etc.   ARRESTS?:  a  few,  yes.   PRISON TIME?:  minimal,  seen  in  folsom  prison  blues.  

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME:   credit  card  scams,  illegal  activity.   SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME:   n/a. TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME:   hunting,  but  it  pays  for  shit.   APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR:   unknown.   CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?:   this  is  never  the  job  he  wanted.  so  no,  definitely  not.   PAST JOB(S):   student.   SPENDING HABITS:  extremely  frugal,  only  on  necessities.   MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION:  john  winchester’s  journal.  

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH:   peak  physical  condition,  human,  in-shape.   OFFENSE:   extremely  skilled  with  weapons  and  hand  to  hand.   DEFENSE:  extremely  skilled  with  lethal  and  non-lethal  defensive  moves.   SPEED:  faster  than  average. INTELLIGENCE:  educated  and  above  average.   ACCURACY:   above  average. AGILITY:   above  average.   STAMINA:   above  average.   TEAMWORK:   below  average.  he  doesn’t  work  well  with  people  he  doesn’t  know  or  trust.  it  takes  time  to  develop  a  bond  /  ease  of  working  with  others.   TALENTS:   computer  skills,  digesting  information,  critical  thinking  skills. SHORTCOMINGS:   stubborn,  naive,  reckless,  deep  psychological  trauma,  suicidal  ideation,  a  nice  grabbag  of  issues.   LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN:   latin,  english,  probably  a  bunch  of  other  old,  dead,  languages  that  might  come  in  handy.  he  probably  also  took  spanish  in  school.   DRIVE?:   yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?:   yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?:   yes.   RIDE A BICYCLE?:   yes. SWIM?:   yes.   PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?:   no. PLAY CHESS?:   yes. BRAID HAIR?:   no. TIE A TIE?:   yes. PICK A LOCK?:  yes.  

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM:   jared  padalecki.   EYE COLOR:   hazel. HAIR COLOR:   brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE:   long  and  flowing.   GLASSES/CONTACTS?:   n/a. DOMINANT HAND:   right.   HEIGHT:  6′4 WEIGHT:   220  ish  lbs. BUILD:   slender  but  muscular.   EXERCISE HABITS:  rigorous.  he  jogs  in  the  mornings,  does  sit  ups  /  pull  ups  at  night,  and  lifts  weights  during  the  day  in  between  cases.  he  stays  in  shape.   SKIN TONE:   tanned.   TATTOOS:   anti-possession  tattoo  over  his  heart.   it  was  carved  out  in  2026  but  the  scar  has  been  tattooed  over,  replacing  the  original.   PEIRCINGS:   none.   MARKS/SCARS:   he’s  died  and  come  back  so  many  times,  it’s  hard  to  say  what’s  still  there  and  what’s  gone.   he  does  still  have  the  bullet  wound  from  where  he  shot  chuck  though.  it  never  healed.   NOTABLE FEATURES:   nose,  hair.   USUAL EXPRESSION:   smirk  of  disbelief,  concern.   CLOTHING STYLE:   lumberjack  lesbian.   JEWELRY:    he  wears  a  chain  with  his  wedding  ring  around  his  neck,  the  one  he  never  got  to  put  on  for  real.   ALLERGIES:   none.   BODY TEMPERATURE:   normal. DIET:   not  great.  hence  the  need  to  work  out. PHYSICAL AILMENTS:   general  fatigue  from  a  rigorously  active  lifestyle.  

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE:  INFJ JUNG SUBTYPE:  Introvert(47%)  iNtuitive (34%)  Feeling(31%)  Judging(38%) You have moderate preference of Introversion over Extraversion (47%) You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (34%) You have moderate preference of Feeling over Thinking (31%) You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (38%) ENNEAGRAM TYPE:   the  reformer  or  the  challenger.   MORAL ALIGNMENT:  chaotic  good.   TEMPERAMENT:   melancholic.   ELEMENT:   taurus  are  usually  earth  elements,  but  i  think  air  suits  sam  better.   PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE:   logical-mathematical,  probably.   APPROXIMATE IQ:   unknown.  we  know  he  scored  a  174  on  the  LSAT,  which  is  incredible,  but  that  doesn’t  always  translate  over  to  IQ.  i  would  say  he’s  got  a  pretty  high  IQ  even  if  he  lacks  a  few  common  sense  points.   MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS:   undiagnosed  depression,  anxiety,  PTSD,  imposter  syndrome,  and  survivor’s  guilt  —  and  that’s  just  the  tip  of  the  iceberg.   don’t  ask  me  to  psychoanalyze  the  winchesters,  it’ll  break  us  all.   SOCIABILITY:   he  doesn’t  seek  it  out  but  he  can  keep  up  with  the  joneses.   EMOTIONAL STABILITY:   not  good.  he  has  exhibited  severe  signs  of  codependency,  suicidal  ideation,  lack  of  regard  for  his  own  life,  and  believe  that  he’s  cursed.  the  boy  is  a  mess.   OBSESSION(S):  vengeance  after  significant  loss,  saving  people  (  even  if  it’s  from  themselves  ),  trying  to  make  up  for  all  of  the  blood  on  his  hands.   PHOBIA(S):   clowns.  not  a  fan.   ADDICTION(S):   demon  blood  (  previously  ) DRUG USE:   no. ALCOHOL USE:  recreationally.   PRONE TO VIOLENCE?:  can  be,  yes.  

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE:  casual. ACCENT:   american.  nothing  specific.   QUIRKS:   chewing  on  pen  caps,  tapping  to  songs  on  the  radio  against  the  steering  wheel  with  his  fingers.   HOBBIES:   reading,  researching,  pool,  morning  crosswords.   HABITS:   stress  pacing,  irritability  under  extreme  pressure. NERVOUS TICKS:   jaw  clench,  nostrils  flaring,  hands  curled  into  fists.   DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS:  vengeance,  restoring  order  /  protecting  people,  survival.   FEARS:  losing  the  people  he  loves,  hurting  innocents,  isolation.   POSITIVE TRAITS:   dependable,  loyal,  protective,  determined,  strong,  honest,  vulnerable. NEGATIVE TRAITS:  impulsive,  reckless,  guilt-stricken,  naive,  obtuse,  too  trusting.   SENSE OF HUMOR:   dry,  sarcastic.   DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?:   no. CATCHPHRASE(S):  damnit, dean.    jerk  /  bitch.  

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY:   long  drives.   ANIMAL:  hedgehogs. BEVERAGE:   monster  energy  drinks.   BOOK:   probably  the  classics,  or  something  by  neil  gaiman. CELEBRITY:   he  doesn’t  have  one. COLOR:   blue.   DESIGNER:   doesn’t  have  one.   FOOD:  philly  cheesesteak.   maybe  mashed  potatoes,  if  not  the  cheesesteak.   FLOWER:   sunflowers. GEM:   none. HOLIDAY:    none.   MODE OF TRANSPORTATION:   car.   MOVIE:   mallrats.   MUSICAL ARTIST:  none.  he’ll  just  listen  to  whatever  they  have  in  the  car,  or  is  on  the  radio.  before  i  think  he  was  probably  into  top  40,  maybe  even  classic  rock  as  much  as  he  complained  about it.   QUOTE/SAYING:   none. SCENERY:   autumn  leaves  falling  from  trees.   SCENT:   linen.   SPORT:   none.  he  doesn’t  care.   SPORTS TEAM:   see  above.   TELEVISION SHOW:   none.  he  probably  only  watches  soap  operas  every  now  and  then  again.  he  doesn’t  watch  anything  he  would  have  to  invest  time  and  energy  in.   maybe  pawnstars,  or  mythbusters.   WEATHER:  drizzle.   VACATION DESTINATION:  somewhere  warm,  tropic,  and  free  of  monsters.  

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM:   to  have  a  normal  life.   he  knows  he’ll  never  get  it,  has  come  to  terms  with  the  fact  that  he  was  never  going  to  be  normal.   GREATEST FEAR:   ending  up  alone,  watching  everyone  he  loves  die.   MOST AT EASE WHEN:  around  the  people  he  loves.   LEAST AT EASE WHEN:   on  a  hunt  that’s  starting  to  go  awry.   WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN:   turning  into  a  monster  —  the  very  thing  he’s  dedicated  his  life  to  hunting,  or  becoming  evil.  being  forced  into  killing  his  own  brother,  or  someone  he  loves  like  family,  would  also  make  the  list.   BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT:  in  a  really  soft  way,  i  want  to  say  it’s  becoming  a  pseudo  dad  to  jack.  it  might  not  have  been  what  he  saw  for  himself,  or  how  he  imagined  being  a  dad,  but  he  loves  the  kid.   if  not  that,  maybe  stopping  the  apocalypse.   not  that  it  lasted  for  very  long.   BIGGEST REGRET:   not  telling  jessica  the  truth.  he  will  always  believe  he  got  her  killed.  that  guilt  will  set  with  him  until  the  day  he  dies.   MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:   too  many  to  count.   BIGGEST SECRET:   he  remembers  a  lot  of  what  the  demon  did  when  it  possessed  him  in  2026.   he  fought  with  everything  he  had,  but  every  time  he  broke  through  they  pushed  him  back  down.   TOP PRIORITIES:  figuring  out  what  comes  next,  i  suppose.  

[phroyd]

Doris Day, the freckle-faced movie actress whose irrepressible personality and golden voice made her America’s top box-office star in the early 1960s, died on Monday at her home in Carmel Valley, Calif. She was 97.

The Doris Day Animal Foundation announced her death.

Ms. Day began her career as a big-band vocalist, and she was successful almost from the start: One of her first records, “Sentimental Journey,” released in 1945, sold more than a million copies, and she went on to have numerous other hits. The bandleader Les Brown, with whom she sang for several years, once said, “As a singer Doris belongs in the company of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra.”

But it was the movies that made her a star.

Between “Romance on the High Seas” in 1948 and “With Six You Get Eggroll” in 1968, she starred in nearly 40 movies. On the screen she turned from the perky girl next door in the 1950s to the woman next door in a series of 1960s sex comedies that brought her four first-place rankings in the yearly popularity poll of theater owners, an accomplishment equaled by no other actress except Shirley Temple.

In the 1950s she starred, and most often sang, in comedies (“Teacher’s Pet,” “The Tunnel of Love”), musicals (“Calamity Jane,” “April in Paris,” “The Pajama Game”) and melodramas (“Young Man With a Horn,” the Alfred Hitchcock thriller “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” “Love Me or Leave Me”).

James Cagney, her co-star in “Love Me or Leave Me,” said Ms. Day had “the ability to project the simple, direct statement of a simple, direct idea without cluttering it.” He compared her performance to Laurette Taylor’s in “The Glass Menagerie” on Broadway in 1945, widely hailed as one of the greatest performances ever given by an American actor.

She went on to appear in “Pillow Talk” (1959), “Lover Come Back” (1961) and “That Touch of Mink” (1962), fast-paced comedies in which she fended off the advances of Rock Hudson (in the first two films) and Cary Grant (in the third). Those movies, often derided today as examples of the repressed sexuality of the ’50s, were considered daring at the time.

“I suppose she was so clean-cut, with perfect uncapped teeth, freckles and turned-up nose, that people just thought she fitted the concept of a virgin,” Mr. Hudson once said of Ms. Day. “But when we began ‘Pillow Talk’ we thought we’d ruin our careers because the script was pretty daring stuff.” The movie’s plot, he said, “involved nothing more than me trying to seduce Doris for eight reels.”

Following “Pillow Talk,” which won Ms. Day her sole Academy Award nomination, she was called on to defend her virtue for the rest of her career in similar but lesser movies, while Hollywood turned to more honest and graphic screen sex to keep up with the revolution sweeping the world after the introduction of the birth control pill.

Ms. Day turned down the part of Mrs. Robinson, the middle-aged temptress who seduces Dustin Hoffman, in the groundbreaking 1967 film “The Graduate,” because, she said, the notion of an older woman seducing a young man “offended my sense of values.” The part went to Anne Bancroft, who was nominated for an Academy Award.

By the time she retired in 1973, after starring for five years on the hit CBS comedy “The Doris Day Show,” Ms. Day had been dismissed as a goody-two-shoes, the leader of Hollywood’s chastity brigade, and, in the words of the film critic Pauline Kael, ”the all-American middle-aged girl.” The critic Dwight Macdonald wrote of “the Doris Day Syndrome” and defined her as “wholesome as a bowl of cornflakes and at least as sexy.”

But the passing decades have brought a reappraisal, especially by some feminists, of Ms. Day’s screen personality and her achievements. In her book “Holding My Own in No Man’s Land” (1997), the critic Molly Haskell described Ms. Day as “challenging, in her working-woman roles, the limited destiny of women to marry, live happily ever after and never be heard from again.”

Ms. Day in fact was one of the few actresses of the 1950s and ’60s to play women who had a real profession, and her characters were often more passionate about their career than about their co-stars.

“My public image is unshakably that of America’s wholesome virgin, the girl next door, carefree and brimming with happiness,” she said in “Doris Day: Her Own Story,” a 1976 book by A. E. Hotchner based on a series of interviews he conducted with Ms. Day. “An image, I can assure you, more make-believe than any film part I ever played. But I am Miss Chastity Belt, and that’s all there is to it.”

An Aspiring Dancer

Doris Day was born Doris Mary Anne Kappelhoff in Cincinnati on April 3, 1922. (For years most sources gave her birth year as 1924, and so did she. But shortly before her birthday in 2017, The Associated Press obtained a copy of her birth certificate from the Ohio Office of Vital Statistics and established that she had been born two years earlier. After Ms. Day was shown the evidence, she said in a statement, “I’ve always said that age is just a number and I have never paid much attention to birthdays, but it’s great to finally know how old I really am.”) She was the second child of Frederick William von Kappelhoff, a choral master and piano teacher who later managed restaurants and taverns in Cincinnati, and Alma Sophia (Welz) Kappelhoff. Her parents separated when she was a child.

Ms. Day never wanted to be a movie star. At 15 she was a good enough dancer to win the $500 first prize in an amateur contest. Her mother and the parents of her 12-year-old partner used the money to take them both to Los Angeles for professional dancing lessons. The families intended to move west permanently, but Doris’s right leg was shattered when the automobile in which she was riding was hit by a train.

To distract Doris during the year it took the leg to mend, her mother — who had named her after a movie star, Doris Kenyon — paid for singing lessons. She was a natural.

Ms. Day told Mr. Hotchner that another important thing happened during her year of recuperation: She was given a small dog. “It was the start of what was, for me, a lifelong love affair with the dog,” she said.

That first dog, Tiny, was killed by a car when Ms. Day, still on crutches, took him for a walk without a leash. Nearly 40 years later she spoke of how she had betrayed him. During the last decades of her life, through her foundation, Ms. Day spent much of her time rescuing and finding homes for stray dogs, even personally checking out the backyards and fencing of people who wanted to adopt, and she worked to end the use of animals in cosmetic and household-products research.

After the accident, Ms. Day never went back to school. At 17, having traded her crutches for a cane, she sang in a local club where the owner changed her name because Kappelhoff wouldn’t fit on the marquee. After a few months as a singer with Bob Crosby and His Bobcats in Chicago, she joined Les Brown and His Blue Devils.

Singing was just something to do until she married. ”From the time I was a little girl,” she told Mr. Hotchner, “my only true ambition in life was to get married and tend house and have a family.”

But while Ms. Day was instantly successful as a singer and a movie actress, she was fated always to marry the wrong men. By the time she made her first movie she had been married and divorced twice.

Her first husband, Al Jorden, a trombone player, was violently jealous and had an uncontrollable temper. He hit her on the second day of their marriage and continued to beat her when she became pregnant and refused to have an abortion. She was married at 19, divorced and a mother at 20.

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But she was undaunted. “All my life,” she told Mr. Hotchner, “I have known that I could work at whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.”

Her second husband, George Weidler, a saxophonist, was a gentle man. She was happily living with him in a trailer park in Los Angeles when he left, after telling her that he thought she was going to become a big star and that he didn’t want to be Mr. Doris Day.

She was approached at a Hollywood party by the songwriters Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne, who had written the score for “Romance on the High Seas,” a movie planned for Judy Garland. But Garland had turned the role down and Betty Hutton, her replacement, was withdrawing because she was pregnant. Warner Bros. was desperate, and the songwriters insisted that Ms. Day audition for the part.

“Acting in films had never so much as crossed my mind,” she later said.

As candid in real life as her perky screen characters, Ms. Day admitted to the movie’s director, Michael Curtiz, that she had never acted before. But “from the first take onward, I never had any trepidation about what I was called on to do,” she said. “Movie acting came to me with greater ease and naturalness than anything else I had ever done.”

Reviewing “Romance on the High Seas” in The New York Herald Tribune, Howard Barnes wrote, “She has much to learn about acting, but she has personality enough to take her time about it.”

Playing the Wholesome Girl

Under personal contract to Mr. Curtiz, Ms. Day followed “Romance on the High Seas” with a series of musical comedies in which she played the pert and wholesome girl with hair and personality the color of sunlight. But even in the early 1950s she was nobody’s fool, and her characters had an unusual resilience, cockiness and competence.

In “By the Light of the Silvery Moon” (1953), about the trials of a small-town family, Ms. Day is first seen repairing her boyfriend’s car. If her fearless sharpshooting title character in “Calamity Jane” (1953) is finally induced to exchange her buckskins for a dress to wed Howard Keel’s Wild Bill Hickock, she still slips her six-shooter into her pocket to take along on the honeymoon.

And when Ms. Day opened her mouth to sing, the effect was magical. She had a perfectly controlled voice that brimmed with emotion. “It’s Magic,” which she sang in “Romance on the High Seas,” and “I’ll Never Stop Loving You,” which she sang in ”Love Me or Leave Me,” were nominated for Academy Awards for best song. The two with which she is especially identified, “Secret Love,” from “Calamity Jane,” and “Que Sera, Sera,” from “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” won Oscars.

“Doris Day was the most underrated film musical performer of all time,” said Miles Kreuger, president of the Institute of the American Musical. “If only she had been at MGM instead of Warner Bros., they’d have given her challenging roles.”

When Ms. Day did get a chance to stretch as an actress, she could be memorable. In “Love Me or Leave Me” (1955), she gave a stirring performance as the singer Ruth Etting, whose life and career were dominated by a violent manager-husband who had ties to gangsters. She held her own against James Cagney’s powerful performance as the husband and flawlessly sang Etting classics like “Ten Cents a Dance” and “Chasing the Blues Away.”

Ms. Day married for a third time in 1951. Although that marriage, to Martin Melcher, her manager, seemed happy, she discovered after Mr. Melcher’s death in 1968 that he and his lawyer had embezzled or frittered away the $20 million she had earned and had left her $500,000 in debt. She agreed to star in a situation comedy to earn the money to pay off her debts.

That proved to be a wise move financially; “The Doris Day Show” had an extremely successful five-year run. (It underwent a number of changes in that time. Ms. Day’s character, a widow who lived on a ranch with her two children, got a job at a magazine in San Francisco in the show’s second season, and by the fourth season her children had been written out of the show.)

James Garner, who co-starred with Ms. Day in two 1963 films, “The Thrill of It All” and “Move Over, Darling,” told Mr. Hotchner, “Marty was a hustler, a shallow, insecure hustler who always ripped off $50,000 on every one of Doris’s films as the price for making the deal.”

Ms. Day sued the lawyer, Jerome Rosenthal, and eventually won a judgment for more than $22 million in 1974. In a 1986 interview Terry Melcher, her son by Al Jorden, said that she eventually got some of the money from an insurance company but “nothing like that amount.”

In 1976 Ms. Day married Barry Comden, a sometime restaurant manager 11 years her junior. They were divorced in 1981. During her marriage to Mr. Comden, she moved from Los Angeles to Carmel, the picture-postcard town along the California coast where she and her son became part owners of the pet-friendly Cypress Inn. For the rest of her life she lived on a seven-acre estate with many more dogs than the zoning laws allowed. In the 1985-86 television season she was the host of “Doris Day’s Best Friends,” on the Christian Broadcasting Network, which focused on animal welfare.

Terry Melcher, her only child, who became a successful record producer, died in 2004.

In 2011, three years after she received a lifetime achievement Grammy Award, Ms. Day surprised a lot of people by releasing her first album in almost 20 years, “My Heart,” which consisted mostly of songs she had recorded for “Doris Day’s Best Friends” but never released commercially.

Ms. Day, who summed up her fatalistic philosophy in the words of one of her biggest hits, “Que Sera, Sera” (“What will be, will be”), never liked unhappy endings. She told one interviewer: “It upsets me when the hero or heroine dies. I would like them to live happily ever after.”

But, except in movies, nobody lives happily ever after. Ms. Day told Mr. Hotchner: “During the painful and bleak periods I’ve suffered through these past years, my animal family has been a source of joy and strength to me. I have found that when you are deeply troubled, there are things you get from the silent, devoted companionship of your pets that you can get from no other source.”

“I have never found in a human being,” she added, “loyalty comparable to that of any pet.”

Phroyd

[avyssoseleison]

when half spent was the night

Extremely sappy DeanCas Christmas fluff (Warning: Brief mention of John being abusive) | On AO3 | 2k

Castiel finds Dean in the living room, bathed in the light of the Christmas tree, sprawled out all over the sofa, his entire body loose and lax, and his eyes half-closed. He cannot help but want to kiss him as he is, this very picture of relaxation, and so he does: with quiet steps, he bridges the small distance between them, cards his hand through Dean’s hair, who does not rouse beyond blinking up at him and sighing softly, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

Dean’s eyes flutter closed at that, in that content and fulfilled way they used to only ever do once the two of them had found their pleasure in each other, especially so at the beginning of their relationship, when Dean seldom allowed himself any display of vulnerability or honest emotion. But, it happens frequently now. The sight of which never fails to elicit a sense of deep satisfaction within Castiel, and he simply has to lower himself to his knees to reach even better Dean and kiss him again.

The smile that curves Dean’s lips up at the unexpected gesture makes it just as worth it for Castiel as the scent of his hair, the feel of his soft skin, the taste of his husband’s lips. Dean’s mouth is slack, but not unresponsive; it is obvious that he did more than just lie here, probably had fallen into a state of rest, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, and is not fully conscious, yet is still receptive to Castiel kisses. He still wants them; wants him.

The heat that blooms within Castiel’s chest upon this realization almost wants him to take Dean back to bed, just not for sleep, and to enjoy him in this utterly vulnerable and incredibly beautiful state, in which he is conscious enough to consent, but not enough to even attempt to put up a barrier. Not that he does so often with Castiel, not anymore. Still, for Castiel not even having to coax him into letting his guard down, to instead just receive Dean’s sweet sighs and open kisses like this, must be the greatest gift he has received tonight.

He pulls away from Dean as he feels his own kisses to grow headier while Dean’s stay the same, without heat or hurry, and places his forehead against his to calm himself. In careful measures, he inhales and exhales again, willing his body and heart to be satisfied with this merely level of physicality without urging for more.

Dean gives a half-snort at that -- as always amused by how easy his mere presence serves to arouse Castiel --, closes his eyes as their foreheads touch, and breathes with him. That he does not push for more or less shows Castiel that he has made the right call; that Dean indeed wishes for merely this.

Castiel blows out a long, slow breath, and then opens his eyes again, although he does not even recall closing them. From beneath him, Dean is already looking back at him, his own gaze not quite as half-lidded as before, yet still far from fully awake. Maybe it is because of all the food and drinks he consumed today that he seems only semi-conscious still.

“You okay there, babe?” Dean murmurs so sweetly and sleepily that Castiel simply has to catch his lips in yet another short kiss. It is a peck more than anything else, for Castiel fears that he might not be able to hold himself back again if he received yet another proper taste.

“I missed you,” Castiel says honestly, “when I woke up, you weren’t in bed.”

“Hmm, I woke up and couldn’t fell back asleep, so I came down here.” He shifts minutely, the tip of his nose brushing Castiel’s cheek.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks, concern seeping into his desire and content. Just like Dean used to be prone to shying away from showing any sort of vulnerability when their relationship was a new and tender thing, so was he prone to nightmares and uneasy sleep. Throughout the years, due to many sessions of therapy and to some small degree probably also due to Castiel’s unconditional love and support, he has become better about both of these things, but every now and then, the demons of the past come back to haunt him. He is only human, after all.

“Hey, now, no need for that face,” Dean chides, his lips following the path that his nose took moments before in a soft line of kisses along Castiel’s cheek. Castiel does not even know what sort of face he must have made for Dean to attempt to -- by all intents and purposes -- kiss him bcretter, but he decides to simply accept his husband’s loving treatment. “‘m okay, no worries. I just got into thinking about the last few days, the entire Christmas time, really, ‘n wanted to see the tree again. And the decorations. And everything.”

Any other time -- not in the middle of the night, for starters --, Castiel might have simply found Dean’s actions adorable, smiled to himself at any excitement Dean might have had about the Christmas tree or the twinkling decorations in the window. But he could not shake off his concern nor could he ignore that wistful, preoccupied expression on Dean’s face. “Is this about your childhood?”

This time, Dean snorts fully. Probably, as Castiel belatedly realizes, because of the bluntness of his statement, and because Dean has long since given up on trying to teach him more tact. “Yes and no. But a bit, I guess. It’s about my childhood to the extent that it’s not about it. I mean, you know how we grew up, Sammy ‘n me, that we didn’t have all--,” he makes a tiny jerking motion with his chin, but it is enough for Castiel to know that he is gesturing towards the decorations, the house, himself, “that, and I found myself thinking about how I do have it now. The holly-jolly, the merry and bright, the goddamn silent night, and I was…” he drifts off for a moment, his gaze flitting away from Castiel and towards the Christmas tree, decked with red and golden baubles and ornaments, one of the most traditionally decorated trees Castiel has ever seen, “I was thinking about how lucky I was. As a kid, I always believed I’d never get anything like this, that not being hungry or-- or being beaten was all I should be asking for for Christmas. That it would be enough. Just Sammy ‘n me, some stolen snacks, a candy cane or two, and badly-wrapped gifts.  And look at me now: hosting a real Christmas dinner for Sammy and everyone else who’s family now, decorating the house that I bought with my own family and that belongs to me and that I only share with my husband, who supports me and loves me and makes me feel so good and…” Although the Christmas tree is the only source of light in the room, Castiel can still see the tears shimmering in Dean’s eyes. “So, yeah, I’m lucky.”

Castiel’s arms are slung around Dean’s shoulders before he has even made the conscious decision to do so. Simple kisses would not suffice; he needs to be as close to him as is possible, as close as he can get aside from entering him, which he could not do right now.

Dean is trembling in his arms, though only slightly so -- and his breathing is steady. He is not breaking apart like he used to; and it is Dean’s strength that has Castiel speak with his voice dipped as low and intimate as the cradle of them calls for.

“You’re not just ‘lucky’ , Dean. You have worked very hard for this. You did not let how your father treated you stump your growth, but instead, you worked for a good education, you worked for a rewarding job, you took up therapy, you worked on becoming a man capable and deserving of a fulfilling relationship, and none of it was luck. All of it was you. Surviving.” He places a kiss onto his forehead. “Persevering.” To the tip of his nose “Earning your reward.” And to his gently parted lips.

“Cas,” Dean whines into the last kiss, but Castiel accepts no objections. Instead, he takes Dean’s face into his hands and licks into his mouth, well-aware of how his own desire will flare up again for naught, but also of how content Dean is to just receive kisses like this, open and earnest, even -- and some days especially -- without any ultimate purpose.

As they break their kiss this time, Dean finally looks fully awake. There is still a shimmer to his eyes, but also something darker -- Dean’s desire swelling in kind --, the sight of which Castiel has grown familiar with over the years, longs for so often that is is pitiful at times.. For yet another time in his life, Castiel catches himself realizing how helplessly in love he is with Dean, that there is nothing he would not do for him.

“If childhood-you could see you right now,” Castiel says, a bit more breathless than he wants to be, “I am sure that he would be as proud of you as I am today. You are not the child from so long ago anymore.” Dean’s hands are on his neck and shoulders, pulling him back in, pulling him onto him. “You are a man now.” Castiel goes willingly. He twists himself from their rushed embrace to fully drape himself on top of Dean, one hand in his hair, the other on his chin, all of their bodies connected, one solid line, from head to toe. “You are truly yourself now.” Dean presses up against him, warm and willing, tempting and beautiful, making it almost impossible for Castiel to control himself any longer. “And an incredible husband, too,” he sighs into Dean’s ear, earning himself a shuddering moan.

“Cas, please, ” Dean begs.

“Please what, Dean?” Castiel asks, not as a tease, but a reassurance. Despite the evidence of Dean’s desire pressed up against his own, he needs to know that Dean truly wants him like this right now, whether this is alright. Because heat has been growing inside of Castiel ever since he had come downstairs, and he does not want to burden Dean with something he might not be in the right headspace for right now.

Apparently, though, he is not alone in his longing.

“I want you like this,” Dean whispers, sweeping Castiel with relief, “I want you here.” In the light of the Christmas tree, surrounded by the proof of everything he has achieved, everything he has become, he does not say, but Castiel hears it all the same -- understands.

Because the true meaning of Dean��s words is in his hands that stroke the shoulders and side of his husband, gently guiding Castiel into a rhythm; it is in the comfortable Christmas pajamas underneath which his skin still carries scars, but underneath which his skin is also growing warmer alongside his arousal; it is in his eyes, which are dark with memories and desire but which also reflect the lights of the Christmas tree, the fruit of his own labor.

“I will have you wherever you want,” Castiel promises, with nothing but truthfulness in his voice and heart, “I want you however you will have me.”

And when Dean responds with yet another sigh, this one even sweeter and softer than any before, Castiel muses that this is, after all, what Christmas is truly about. What it should have been about whenever John hurt Dean and what it was about whenever Dean wrapped yet another stolen present for his brother. And also back when Dean and Castiel met each other for the first time in their lives, one cold Christmas Eve, in a run-down bar at the edge of town, drunk out of their minds and seeking nothing more than another lonely soul to spend this most painful of nights with, to forget about what they did not have.

Yes, it is and was and will always be about love and peace, and finding home.

[spnsimpleman]

The Unknowns: Thirty Six

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  A one-shot turned into a long ass Prologue.  One   Two   Three   Four   Five Six   Seven   Eight Nine   Ten Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen   Fourteen Fifteen   Sixteen   Seventeen  Eighteen   Nineteen  Twenty   Twenty one   Twenty Two   Twenty Three   Twenty Four   Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight   Twenty Nine  Thirty Thirty One   Thirty Two   Thirty Three  Thirty Four   Thirty Five

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 3530

Dean Winchester stared down at his worst nightmare in horrifying technicolor. Her warmth had burst inside his chest blanketing him in a peace he only ever found with her. There was a familiarity to it, an echo of deja vu that he couldn’t place. It had settled his panic, but she was still bleeding, her eyes were closed, and she hadn’t responded since that weak reply to his own plea he wasn’t even sure she heard.

No matter how hard he pressed down on the wound, the blood leaked out and the pain, holy shit, the pain was fucking everywhere yanking his concentration from where it needed to be and draining his energy. Sonofabitch, I can’t do this.

“I heard her. She was… in my head. Fuck! She shouldn’t have… I heard her. I heard her.”

Dean glanced up at Sam as he lightly smacked her cheeks trying to coax her into opening her eyes with one hand pressed against her pulse point on her neck. He couldn’t tell if Sam even realized he was muttering out loud. “Sam. Sam.”

“She said my nickname… her nickname for me, it was her. In my head.”

“Sam. SAMMY!” Sam’s gaze snapped up and focused on him. “I need you right here, Sammy. It’s tugging me… the bond, I’m trying to stay above… pressure. Keep it here… in case.”

Sam’s eyes widened as he fully grasped what his brother was saying. He covered Dean’s hands and pressed, “I’ve got you both. I’m right here.”

They both jerked their heads in the direction of boots pounding the gravel but Dean’s gaze dropped back to y/n once he felt Jess. But it was Bobby who appeared down by Y/n’s side, immediately checking her pulse with one hand at her throat and the other under her nose.

“She’s not breathing, can’t find a pulse at all.”

Dean nodded and moved his hands to her chest finding the correct spot before starting to pump keeping the right rhythm in his head, “I still feel her, she’s not dead yet.” He caught the look of fear and concern plain on Bobby’s face before he masked it.

Dean turned his focus where it needed to be but his body was flagging worse now and he wasn’t sure he was doing it right anymore. His arms were too heavy, his hands not working as they should. He glanced at Sam who switched places with Bobby and stepped in right when Dean pulled his hands away.

Dean stumbled even though he was just moving to the side on his knees. Hands pressed down on his shoulders, steadying him. “Jess…” he breathed.

Pamela knelt down by Y/n’s head, her hands working before her knees hit the ground. Dean begged, “help.”

Pamela tore her gaze from Y/n’s face to look at Bobby who only shook his head. Pamela glanced at Dean but then did a double take. Her gaze was penetrating but haunted, her body suddenly rigid as she gasped. “No… damn it.” Pamela looked up at Jess, “get the blanket and the stones.”

“Keep going grumpy, we haven’t got all night,” Pamela snapped at Sam when he watched Jess move over to a bag behind Dean. Then she turned to Bobby, “how long?”

“A minute, maybe two.”

Her lips were moving again, chanting under her breath as Sam continued CPR. The earth pulled at Dean, drawing him closer with a comfort that swelled in his chest. He started moving toward it until he saw Pamela’s eyes snap to his chest, focused and narrowed, and then slid back to Y/n’s face.

“What?” He focused on drawing air into his lungs while he watched Pamela, “I know she’s still here, I feel her. Tell me what you...”

Pamela’s fingers rested on y/n’s pulse points on her wrist and throat, “of course, she’s still here. She’s with you.”

“Of course…” his brow furrowed then he dropped his head and focused more intently on breathing and watched Sam try to force the air into Y/n’s lungs.

Sam went back to his compressions with a glance at Dean, “what does that mean, Pamela? She’s still alive? I heard her in my head… she’s strong.” His voice hitched and cracked on the last word.

Jess glanced up at Sam, “we’re not going to lose her.” The heat and conviction in her voice stirred in Dean’s chest but he saw her wince and reach for the back of her head before she stopped herself. Almost like she could feel that throbbing at the back of his… y/n’s skull. But then her hands were working again, moving with a practiced ease over the wound in y/n’s abdomen.

He tried pulling at that thread but something else was pressing, words were in his head, his heart, “the witness, the martyr, the soldier’s sacrifice...” He could almost feel them hovering in the air, “will prove fruitful. She didn’t want to die but at the same time… she thought it was the only way to avoid something, something important, something key to the big picture.” Her warmth flared inside him then it cooled and settled like a comforting weight curling up in his chest.

“How does she feel?” Pamela glanced at him and he realized he was looking up at her. His hands were pressed into the dirt, his head tilted up to see Pamela hovering over Y/n, her hands still active, moving to whatever song was in her head.

He wanted to close his eyes but he was afraid, so afraid. “Heavy. And warm. And her.”

Pamela leaned down as Sam started pumping again, she whispered words in her ear that he couldn’t make out but then he thought he heard, “not you too. I forbid it.”

“I’ve got a pulse!” Jess whooped.

“She’s breathing!” Sam was right on her heels.

“Jess, the blankets! We need to get her to the jeep and you,” Pamela turned to Dean, “you stay right next to her, you hear me? You are not allowed any distance from her where you can’t touch.”

“I’m not going anywhere without her, it’s okay.” Dean looked down and realized he was holding y/n’s hand.

“You have no idea,” Pamela grumbled. Dean rubbed his chest with his free hand and she scowled, mumbling under her breath, “just like her damn father.”

Dean waited as she barked out instructions and everyone was moving. Dean looked down at the wound that was now packed with gauze and tightly wrapped with stones and other things in between certain levels of gauze. He scooped her up cradling her against his chest with the eerie feeling that she was too light and he was too heavy, his skin too tight.

Sam tried to intervene but Pamela stopped him. “Help him up then help Jess.” She glanced at Bobby and he took the other side, pulling Dean to his feet. “Dean, can you stand for a few minutes on your own?” Pamela was staring into his eyes searching for something he couldn’t even guess.

He nodded, “yeah, not long though.”

She nodded and waved Bobby off. Dean watched Pamela, her hand wrapped around y/n’s wrist, her lips silently moving. Once the others were out of earshot, he whispered, “what did you mean she’s with me?”

She met his gaze, “the bond, your tether to her, she… she took it to you.” Her gaze dropped to his chest, “Maybe it was the shock and she jumped ship, I don’t know but she’s done it to a certain extent before… but never like this.”

“What are you saying?”

She met his gaze with a grave seriousness he rarely saw, “her soul is not in her body, Dean. She’s with you. I never thought soul transference could be done without the right… materials but… you two are different and the bond only accentuates it. Did you not feel it?”

“I felt her... this burst of light and warmth as she told me she loved me and… I thought it was probably just me… but I heard her thinking she would never leave if she had the choice... like she’d choose to stay with me. That sounds crazy…”

“It definitely is crazy but not impossible. She wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

“You said…”

Her arm wrapped around him as his left leg shook, “you need to concentrate on you and I need to think without wanting to throttle her.”

“Do you think it’s a survival instinct? To escape the pain, without the shock… the body should have a better chance, right? Especially with your stones…”

“Why do you think I’m not chanting over your bodies and making her go back? This is our best option right now. We need to get her to the hospital, I can sustain the body but I can’t reverse this kind of damage. Did you get the asshole who did this?”

“No, she was my top priority. Bobby went after him though.”

She didn’t respond, only stared out toward the engine roaring to life.

Hang on, sweetheart. We’re going to fix this. We just need a little more time.

~~

My dad had told me once that everything I learn and retain has a reason. Maybe it's something I enjoyed or had someone important be a part of but there were some things that don't seem like they're important and yet we retain them anyway. They pop up in our consciousness every now and then and we think how funny what an odd thing to remember and we move on with our day. At some important point, that odd thing will show itself to have purpose and meaning that we didn't understand before.

He liked to call it the soul effect because the soul recognized its power, it's importance, and filed it away then kicked it out every so often to keep it as solid as possible for the moment when we’d need it most.

I could've remembered that poem moment when he died fighting against the dark for just a few moments to tell me he loved me and my mother, to tell me I was his greatest achievement, essentially he fought the dying of the light so I wouldn't feel as though I never got to say goodbye. But it didn't come to me then.

I remembered it at the exact moment I needed to get off my ass to save Sam. He had no idea Jake was coming and Jake would have hit him exactly where he wanted to, killing him within minutes. But I had the chance to throw him off, I had a better chance at surviving but to be honest, in the back of my mind, I thought I was already dead.

Hello, my sweet Honeybee.

Dad? I turned in the endless dark but light place. The one I could never forget.

That was very selfless of you. His voice was everywhere but I desperately wanted to see him.  

Just like you, daddy. I learned... Please let me see you. I’m here now. With you. I turned hopelessly not knowing if I was actually moving.

No, I’m here with you. He appeared, his face exactly as I had last seen him, that smile lit his eyes with such amazing strength and beauty. He opened his arms and I crashed into him.

It doesn’t matter. But my chest ached and I wondered if Dean, Sam, and Jess were okay.

But it does, very much. They need you.

I can’t change… I couldn’t let him die.

And you didn’t, but you are still not done.

What do you mean?

Honey bee, I’m here with you. You are not… you’re not gone yet.

But… how? I pulled back to look at his face and he smiled, but the sadness that tinged his features answered my question. You stayed. You never… why would you… It hit me so hard if I was in my body I might’ve been knocked to the ground. You bonded to her, I shook my head, you made the connection but she…

He shook his head, she didn’t complete it. Your mother was always so cautious, always trying to protect everyone.

You didn’t tell her. And… but how did she not feel you?

His hand brushed through my hair like he always used to do. She’s not like us, without the bond…

She couldn’t feel you but you… oh god. You’ve been with her this whole time! How did I…

I severed our connection to keep you from suffering. I knew you wouldn’t like me hovering about.

But you…  you were alone! I could’ve...

I wasn’t alone, I had your mother and…

Pamela! That’s why she couldn’t bear to be around mom too long and… that night at Bobby’s! I felt you… you… you took Pamela’s body, didn’t you?

He dropped his gaze and looked like a scolded child. She was pissed about that but she understood. Your mother never would’ve let you go and you needed to.

You stayed for her even though she despised what...

Don’t! He looked away, his jaw clenching reminded me so much of Dean. Don’t talk about her like that. She didn’t despise us and you know why, I heard her tell you. She was always so afraid for us because she loved us that much. She just wanted you to be safe. She may not have gone about it the right way, but we don’t exactly get a guidebook for... parenting.

Did you ever try to show yourself? Do something?

He grinned and I saw Dean, that wistful look he’d get in his eyes when he was thinking of some memory of ours. I have. Your mother… well, ignorance is bliss. Ever since that night at Bobby’s, I’ve noticed a little change but she’s still… She wants me to let go but I can’t, not yet.

Not… did you know this would happen?  The words from something flickered through my head, what if Azazel tells her? Would you rather he corrupted it for his own purpose? I tried to focus on them but they faded before I could get a grasp on them.

I know you. I knew you would put yourself between one of them and if there was any possibility that I could keep you… alive just long enough.

How?

This place… well, think of it like an induced coma. It lowered your heart rate to keep you from bleeding out and it will keep you from going into shock. Because you were meant for more than some family legacy, you were meant to live a life of your choosing, not as a piece in a  demonic apocalypse. I’m giving them time to save your life. When your mother got there, you were clinging to Dean, I told Pamela but she had already seen it. She said you did it before but not like that. We didn’t know how long your body would hold out without your soul fighting to keep it alive, so we had to make you go back.

Dad… what..?

He pulled me back to his chest and smoothed a hand down my hair, it’s time for you to rest.

But I can stay here, right? I clung to him knowing every moment was stolen and would be gone too soon.

Just for a little longer.

I love you.

With every stitch in the universe, honey bee. Always.

~~

I woke to a mostly dark hospital room. The moon shining bright through the window where the shades had been drawn up, a single chair sat next to my bed and Pamela was sleeping bathed in the moonlight.

“Pamela?” She didn’t budge. I sat up without a single ache or pain. The room reminded me too much of Dean’s time in the hospital, complete with the constant soft beeps from the machines on either side of the bed. I wanted out. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down before I lost it completely.

Something changed and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in the middle of the room. Pamela asleep in the chair and my body was still in the hospital bed looking too close to death for my comfort.

“Dad?” I glanced around but no reply came. Where was Dean? Sam? My mom and… I had heard Bobby at some point, didn’t I?

“Congratulations!”

I jumped and turned around drawing my fists in front of me. The Yellow-eyed demon stood with that annoying smirk on his face.

“You’re the last two standing. I’m a man of my word, I’ll allow you both to live.”  

Something tickled in my head but I couldn’t grasp it. “I’m waiting for the but…”

“No conditions. I just can’t guarantee it will stay that way if you don’t carry through with the task Jake was doing when his insides burned up from within and could no longer complete it.”

“What?”

“Ah, Princess, if only you allowed me to teach you.”

“Stop calling me that!” I snapped. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want him to know how much it bothered me but now I couldn’t take it back. He simply smiled and held up his palms.

“So much potential. I’ve been trying to get you to see that you are the brightest of them all. Strong, ancient bloodlines will do that.”

“Lovely. Except you forgot the part where I don’t kill or torture people for the fun of it.”

“Really? You did a pretty good job with Jake.” He stepped toward me, his face changing, softening, and I froze. “I’m following a plan for someone I care deeply about. Is that not what you live by? Everyone has a code. I keep mine, like most things, close. Not everyone needs to know why, they just need to follow.”

“Blindly. I don’t work that way, I know what I’m fighting for, who I’m fighting for. That’s my code.”

He turned away, his hands clasped behind his back, “Jake was carrying the colt with him, taking it to an old cemetery where I can’t go. He needed to open something for me and the colt is the only key. If you can finish that task, I can guarantee the two of you will be off limits to my demons for a century. Give or take a decade. That’s my price.”

“Why would I ever… a century? This is all a joke to you.”

“Your line will live on, I’m only able to guarantee your line’s safety for so long. Times awasting. Seventy two hours, the coordinates are in that beautiful mind of yours, if you choose to accept.” He snapped his fingers and it went through me like a drop from a second story window.

I snapped my eyes open and the room looked the same, but everything hurt. My chest was too heavy and breathing was almost impossible. I touched my chin, reaching for that hard edge pressing into my skin around my nose.

“Shh, honey bee, it’s okay. It’s just oxygen.” Pamela was standing next to the bed and helped me pull the mask down.

“What?” My throat was raw and my voice barely there.

“You have some severe injuries but we’re getting you there, don’t worry.”

“Dad..?”

Her eyes softened and she nodded, “I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you. That wasn’t something you needed on top of everything else.”

I shook my head or tried but the pain was too much.

“Just breathe, your body needs rest. You need to let it recuperate so it can rebuild. We’re doing everything we can to speed the process. Dean’s in the next room, they had to move him because he kept climbing in the bed with you and you’re just too weak right now. They had to sedate him.”

How was I supposed to rest? An old cemetery where the demon couldn’t go, the colt the only key. It had to be the graveyard from my dream. It was too close to be a coincidence. “Sedate?”

“Calm your mind. You’re never going to get any rest like that. I’ll sedate you too if I have to.” She picked up a cup from the bedside table and brought it to my lips, holding the straw steady. I took a few sips staring at her. She put the cup down, pulled the chair up to the side of the bed, and sat down with her elbows on the mattress.

“If you…” Pamela’s eyebrow crept up and I cleared my throat, “knew something bad brought... just one good thing, would you let it happen?”

She touched my hand, her soothing energy flowing through me, “Y/n?” She was feeling me out, sympathy pouring out of her.

“I saw him. I know what he did. But that’s not… there’s something I think I have to do. I just… I need time.” Why were my eyelids so damn heavy?

“You need to rest and then you can think about whatever insane plan you’ve got in that head of yours.” She squeezed my hand and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something in that water as her face faded.

Thirty Seven

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23  @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke, @captainemwinchester, @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @caitsymichelle13  , @escabell , @thealyana , @michellethetvaddict , @ashch , @rashinyx2002 , @tamtamlov

[brittywritesstuff]

Could you possibly write a destiel New Years fic?

Y’now, I think I can!

Dean has never been much for celebrating New Year’s. Every year, with the change of the clock came the promise of a new threat, more pain, and more of the same unending suffering. This year, though… this year is different. Sure, there’s always a threat on the horizon. As a hunter, there will always be pain and loss and suffering. But this year in particular, he has something new to look forward to. Because this year, Dean’s not alone.

In the week between Christmas and New Year, Dean racks his brain to devise the perfect plan. It’s his first with Cas, and it needs to be good. No, not just good. Perfect. Sam teases him, of course, but when he points out it’s Sam’s first with Eileen, he shuts up pretty quick.

Dean and Sam debate a quiet night at home, just Sam, Eileen, Cas, and himself. But then he thinks… why not go all out? Why not go big? He gets to ring in a New Year with the love of his life — the angel who defied Heaven for him — and a quiet night in the bunker just won’t do it.

He has to find something better.

On his various grocery, coffee, and beer runs, Dean perished the cork boards with local flyers for any ideas or possible leads. What the fuck could make New Year’s spectacular in the middle of Kansas. Every time, he came up empty. Until December 30th, when he came across an ad for a massive party over in Kansas City. It’s a little over four hours, but it’s close enough for them to make the drive and far enough away for a motel. And, to boot, its theme is Great Gatsby. Dean’s a sucker for a good theme, so he snatches the flier and heads home to inform everyone of the news.

+

“A what?” Sam’s incredulous, staring at Dean likes he’s speaking gibberish.

“A Great Gatsby party! C’mon, Sammy, I’m sure Eileen doesn’t wanna sit on her ass in the bunker on New Year’s! Let’s get dressed up! Get outta here. Do somethin’ fun!”

Sam sighs, and Dean can tell he’s mulling it over. Finally, he shrugs. “Fine. Yeah. I guess it could be fun.” He moves toward the hall, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell Eileen.”

+

Dean finishes straightening his tie, and takes a deep breath. “Not bad,” he says, giving himself a once over. He smooths his hands down the front of his wine-colored jacket and nods. “Not bad at all.” Lebanon might be the middle of nowhere, but at least it’s near civilization. A quick trip out of town yesterday evening produced a tux for each of them and a dress for Eileen. They’d all split up, picking their own things, before they headed home together.

With a deep breath, Dean opens the door, and meets Cas on the other side. His hair is only slightly disheveled, and he’s wearing the most ridiculous tux. But Dean’s damned if it doesn’t look incredible on him. “Hey, Cas,” he says softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hello, Dean.” How is it possible for his eyes to look that blue? It takes Dean’s breath away. “You look nice. That,” Cas is speaking and pointing to him, and Dean has to bring himself back, “is a good color for you.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes. He can’t help himself, and grabs Cas’s lapel, dragging him in for a heated kiss. “You, too.”

Sam arrives behind Cas a moment later, dressed smartly in a black tux. Eileen’s at his side in a shining, emerald gown, her hair swept back behind one ear. “Alright, guys, save it for the ball drop. Let’s get going.”

Dean pulls back, but keeps his hands on Cas’s hips. “Eileen, you look stunning. Way too good or my little brother, y’know.”

Eileen flashes Sam a loving smile, and nudges him gently. “I know.”

+

The location, Dean finds, is absolutely fitting for a Gatsby party. It’s a gorgeous, grand mansion, and they can hear the music from the street. The lights are shimmering as people mill around, coming and going.

Dean buttons his jacket as he steps out of the car, and he can’t seem to wipe the smile from his face. “Hell yeah,” he says. “This is awesome!” He doesn’t hesitate in reaching for Cas’s hand, and nods to Sam as they lead the way to the door.

Dean eagerly exchanges cash for tickets and the foursome step into the mansion. He watches Cas as the angel looks around in awe.

Dropping Cas’s hand long enough to grab two glasses of champagne from a passing tray, he hands one to Cas and turns to him with a bright smile. “Here’s lookin’ at us,” he says, clinking his glass against Cas’s. They knock back a swig of the champagne and Dean pulls him in for another kiss.

It’s a new thing for him, the publicity of their relationship. But if the way he feels right now is any indication, he won’t be subduing it any time soon.

“I love you,” he murmurs against Cas’s lips, and grins as he pulls back. He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond. “Let’s check out the rest of this place.”

The organizers of this party have, seemingly, spared no expense. Champagne seems to flow endlessly, the music is perfect, and the atmosphere is intoxicating in itself. He’d made a great choice, he thinks, looking on with a smirk as a guy is tackled into the pool by a girl in a flapper costume.

They meet up with Sam and Eileen once an hour later, and Sam grudgingly admits he’s having a great time. Eileen is elated.

It’s nearing midnight when the music slows to a ballad. Dean pulls a reluctant Cas to the dance floor and they sway together, lost in each other’s eyes. “You make it worth it, Cas,” he says, carding his fingers through the angel’s hair. “The miserable life we lead. The stupid new year. I’m excited for it this year. ‘Cause I have you.”

Cas smiles, his eyes lighting up. “You’ve always made everything worth it, Dean. Even before I knew what it was to love. You’ve always been worth it.”

Ten!

“Worth more than Heaven, huh?”

Nine!

“Heaven, Hell, creation itself.”

Eight!

“Now you’re exaggeratin’.”

Seven!

“I’m not, Dean. Pulling you from Hell… it was the greatest achievement of all.”

Six!

“Because through you, I learned more than just taking orders. I learned about hope.”

Five!

“And forgiveness. And joy.”

Four!

“Art. Love.”

Three!

“In you, Dean, I learned what Home truly meant. I learned what it’s like to be loved and to feel meaning.”

Two!

“Cas, I—“

One!

“I love you, Dean.”

Happy new year!

Dean sighs. “And forever beyond.” He leans in, capturing Cas’s lips in a deep, languid kiss, and they cling to each other, oblivious to the world as the partygoers cheer, and confetti rains down.

In the new year, in their life together, and all the possibilities of the future, they have each other to come home to — to quell each other’s fears and make the other feel loved.

With a smile, Dean brushes his thumb along Cas’s jaw. Happy new year, indeed. >

++

A note: They’re wearing the tuxes J2M were wearing in the Halloween Entertainment Weekly shoot!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVES!

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

More Like Daughter

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader x Sam Winchester

Warnings: Language, SPN cannon violence, nightmares, sibling abuse (Demon Dean), Angst, and then Fluff

Word Count: 3109

A/N: This was written for Katie’s AKA @winchesters-favorite-girl One Year Celebration. Congrats on the year girly. My prompt was “You’re the greatest thing that ever stumbled into my life.” This got a little angstier than I anticipated but I love writing fluffy Dean so you get that as well. Reader is 16 and this takes place in season 11 if you couldn’t tell so for the guys age you can do the math lol. No Beta and feedback always appreciated.

Summary: You’re sick of the distance between you and Dean and just want your big brother and best friend back. You figure the only way to do that is to confront Amara and break whatever link it is she has on your brother. Will it work or will you pay the consequences? Will you get Dean back?

You were sitting in the library reading, or at least trying to read, some new lore book that Sam had found in the basement. As your eyes scanned the page you couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have a clue what you just read. Your head was in another place and had too many thoughts swimming around to retain any new information. 

All you could think about was Dean, your big brother who you used to be thick as thieves with but was no more of a stranger to you. It has been almost 2 years since he started pushing you away. It all started when he got that god forsaken Mark of Cain. The fucking thing started to change him and slowly but surely, he saw it and pushed you further away. Then Metadouche killed him, he became a knight of Hell, and the shit really hit the fan. 

Dean had escaped the dungeon in the middle of being cured and was on the hunt. You had your blade gripped tightly in your hand and quietly stalked through the halls. You had all your senses on high alert. You knew this monster wasn’t Dean meaning you were most definitely in danger. 

However, when Sammy knocked out the lights it knocked you off your game. In a single moment, you felt a warm breath on the back of your neck and before you could turn around his hand was on your mouth dragging you into the nearest room.

He let you go and you fell forward onto the ground. You knew it was Dean and you knew you were screwed.

“Dean, please-,” you said.

“Dean, please,” he mocked. “Little y/n. What to do. What to do. You know I think I will enjoy killing you.”

You stomach turned at his words and you lifted your blade to at least try and defend yourself.

“Really, y/n? Do you actually think you are going to use that? Can you actually kill the man who has raised you? Go ahead. Here I won’t even fight back,” he said as he stepped forward with his arms behind his back.

You held the blade to his throat and tried to push but you couldn’t. He was right, he was the one who raised you. Your father died when you were still a toddler and your mother never wanted you so Dean took over. You loved him with every fiber of your being. He was much more than your big brother. Demon or not you couldn’t kill him even if you wanted to.

You dropped the knife and let the tears you were holding back fall.

“You don’t have to do this, Dean. I know you are still in there somewhere. My big brother. The only person in my life that ever truly wanted me and stuck around to raise me. Please,” you begged.

“You see y/n, I know I don’t have to do this, thing is I want to,” he said as he rushed towards you and punched you in the face. He smiled and began to kick you.

You curled up on your side begging him to stop but that inly seemed to egg him on. He grabbed you by your hair and stood you up straight and dragged a knife across your abdomen eliciting a scream from your lips.

“Princess, you have been nothing but a burden since the day you walked into my life. I was only 21 I didn’t want to take care of a kid. I already had to raise Sammy, why should I have had to raise you too?”

“D-Dean, Pl-please stop. I love you.”

“Well, I don’t love you,” he said as he dragged the blade across you skin a few more times across your skin. He let your hair go and you fell to the floor. He gave you another kick to the stomach and then one last one to the face to knock you out.

You don’t know how long you were out, but you came to when Sammy was lifting you from the ground telling you that you were going to be alright.

Sam was able to cure Dean, but only after he cleaned and bandaged you up. Your recovery however took much longer.

Since then you barely ever saw Dean. Sammy became your rock. Your everything. He became what you needed to get through this trauma, especially since the person you usually went too was avoiding you like the plague. You didn’t blame Dean, not one bit but he still avoided you. You felt like he didn’t love you anymore.

When the nightmares started Sam was right by your side to soothe you through them, but you couldn’t help but want Dean. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Sammy, you did with all your heart, it’s just you were closer with Dean and he knew exactly what you needed in times like this even when you didn’t know you needed it.

So here you were sitting in the library wallowing. You knew this all had to do with the Mark. Dean losing control, the angry outbursts, the demon thing, and now the darkness, it was all the damn Mark. For the last couple of years Dean has had something that has had a hold on him and you were sick of it. Now there was Amara who was stirring the pot in his head and messing with him.

You figured it was this lack of control that began the deterioration of y’all’s relationship and the fact that you weren’t strong enough to handle any of it. But, that was all about to change. You wanted your brother back and just some normal peace for one fucking minute with the only two people you have left for family. So, the only way to achieve that would be to confront Amara and that would be what you did.

The next day you let the guys know you were going out and would be back soon.

You arrived at the abandoned salvage yard and started to call out for Amara praying that she could hear you. To your surprise, she did and showed up.

“Look, I don’t know what your deal is with my brother, but I need you to leave him the hell alone. He has already been through enough in one life time and doesn’t need you adding to it. He is one of the few people I have left that I love so I need you to back the fuck off,” you said with such ferocity that you shocked yourself.

“I can’t do that. We are linked through the Mark and are destined to become one. He is a part of me now so I won’t let him go,” she replied back only managing to infuriate you.

“If that’s how it’s going to be,” you said as you lunged at her but to your dismay she manages to throw you back with barely lifting a finger. You lifted yourself up only to be thrown back down again causing you to groan.

You reached behind you and grabbed your gun from your waistband and shot her with a bullet that had been enchanted by a spell you made Rowena give you. To your disappointment, it didn’t kill her but it did weaken her a bit.

However, that only seemed to piss her off more. For a woman who pretty much relied on her powers to do her work for her she was pretty strong. She punched you in the gut causing you to hunch over. She grabbed your hair and lifted your head and punched you in the face. She kneed you in the stomach causing you to drop. 

You however were a Winchester and got right back up and threw a few punches yourself knowing a blade wouldn’t help you here. You managed to give her a bloody nose and a busted lip. She wasn’t too happy with that and was able to muster up enough power to throw you into your car knocking you unconscious.

Once you were able to regain consciousness your whole body felt stiff. You had cuts everywhere, blood was seeping through each, not all of them shallow, and you were pretty sure your right arm was broken by the purpling of your skin and the excruciating pain coming from that area.

You reached into your back picket to get your phone to call Sam to come get you only to discover it was shattered. You looked back at the car you had driven to the location had been the one Amara so graciously threw you into rendering it useless now. So, you had no choice but to walk the 5 miles back to the bunker.  

Back at the bunker both men were starting to panic and worry about your whereabouts. You said you’d be back soon but that was 8 hours ago and you weren’t picking up your phone. Both men filled the answering machine with worrying messages. They sent you dozens of texts that went unanswered.

At that moment Dean had had enough. You were his little sister and if you were gone this long it meant that something was wrong. So, he grabbed his jacket and his keys and headed towards the door to start looking for you.

Before he could make it out the door you entered the bunker all bloody and bruised and literally fell into his arms exhausted from the fight, the walk, and all the blood loss in between. The last thing you heard before you completely lost consciousness for the second time that day was Dean saying, “Everything is going to be alright baby girl, I got you.”

Dean picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bedroom. He called out for Sam who came running and followed you both to Dean’s room.

Dean and Sam began to get to work. They picked all the glass shards out of your skin, stitched up some of the deeper gashes, wrapped up your broken arm, wiped up all the blood, and patched you up.

“What did this to her, Sammy? The last time I saw her this beat up I …” Dean trailed off knowing her was the last person to hurt her this bad.

“I have no clue. She hasn’t said anything to me about tracking anything but Amara. But, Dean she’s strong we both know that. She’ll be fine,” Sam said as he left the room to head to his for the night to hopefully get the images of his sister all bloody again out of his head and get some sleep. 

Dean, however, did move an inch. He sat at your bedside holing your hand and watching you to make sure you kept breathing. He couldn’t help but think back to when he hurt you. After Sammy cured him and he saw what he had done he wanted to die. After getting physically ill, he knew he had to stay away from you no matter how much that hurt it was the only way to keep you safe with the Mark still affecting him.

Dean was pulled from his thoughts when he felt you stir. He was instantly by your side. But before he could get a word out you started mumbling.

“ ‘M sorry, De. ‘M so sorry,” you managed to get out for him to hear.

Dean wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Why were you sorry? You hadn’t done anything wrong. You never did anything wrong. He was the one who should be apologizing. He was the one that hurt you not only physically, but emotionally when he decided to basically sever all ties with you.

“Why are you sorry, baby girl?”

“ ‘Cause I went after Amara alone and she was the one who did this to me and I barely knocked her down half a notch.”

“Y/N, why would you go after her alone? That was dangerous and reckless. You’re never reckless. You’re always yelling at Sammy and I for that. Why did you do it?”

“For you De. I went to her to get her to leave you alone. I miss my big brother and my best friend De. The last couple of years you have shut me out and I know it has to do with something always having a hold over you so I figured if I could get Amara out of the picture that was half the battle. I could work on being stronger and being able to handle all this better and make you love me again. I’m sorry I haven’t been strong enough and I know that’s probably why you pushed me away, but I’m working on it. I-I just need you back De. You are the only person in my life that has truly wanted me and I can’t lose you. I-I just can’t,” you spouted as the tears started to roll down both yours and Dean’s cheeks.

“Stop! Just stop,” he said. “Baby girl, you being strong was never an issue. You are strong, probably the strongest one in this bunker. You’ve had to be. Sure, it takes guts to step up to the plate and sacrifice yourself for the greater good, but those who have to deal with the aftermath are a hell of a lot stronger. You have been left behind to deal with the aftermath of all of mine and Sammy’s dumbass decisions, including mine taking on the Mark, and have handle them all with grace and maturity that you shouldn’t have had to.”

“Dean-“

“Let me finish. You are strong. I’m the coward. I felt so damn guilty for hurting you last year that I couldn’t handle it so I just pushed you away thinking it would keep you safe not thinking about how it would make you feel. You are the greatest thing that ever stumbled into my life, y/n. Those things I said as a demon weren’t true. They were things I knew would hurt you so I said them. The day I met you I was in awe and watching you grow up into the amazing young woman you are has been the greatest joy of my life. Y/n, you may be my little sister, but to me your much more than that. You’re more like a daughter to me always have been. I know it may be weird to think of me like dad but-“

“It’s really not since that’s basically the way I have seen you since I was 6.”

Dean smiled at that comment and continued. “Well, that’s why when I saw what I had done to you, I couldn’t forgive myself and pushing you away seemed to be the best option so I wouldn’t hurt you again, no matter how much it hurt me to do that. I love you kiddo and just seeing you hurt breaks my heart. I know you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done but can we move forward?”

You sat up and put your hand on his stubbled cheek. “You were forgiven the moment Ii woke up. I knew it wasn’t you, it was the demon acting in your worst fears. I love you De. That is never something you’ll have to question. Like I said you were the only one that wanted me and for me that’s everything.”

Dean looked at you in awe. How did he raise such an amazing girl? You were everything he wanted to be so good and innocent and just kind to your very soul. He knew he would die protecting that. He let the tears he had been holding back fall and carefully grabbed you into a hug and held you relishing in the feeling he had missed.

He let you go and kissed your forehead. “I’ll let you get some rest,” he said as he got up and moved to go to the door.

“De, wait.”

“Yeah, baby girl?”

“Can you stay and lay with me at least until I fall asleep, like we used to do when I was little?”

He looked at you with concern. You knew his answer was yes but you also knew you had to tell him why.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your fingers. “It’s nightmares. I’ve been getting them off and on since the incident. Sammy was helping but they started up again a few days ago and you always seemed to know what I needed before I knew I needed it.”

“Of course, baby girl. I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you like I should have and I promise that’s all gonna change,” he said as he removed his boots and removed his top layers so he was just in his pants and t-shirt and laid down next to you. “If you don’t mind me asking what are your nightmares about? Are they about me attacking you?”

You snuggled into him and spoke. “Some are, but they are just a culmination of things from over the years. Some are Sammy jumping into the cage, some are of Crowley, some of are you and Sammy hurt, and some are of people we have lost like Bobby and Charlie and Kevin. But I think the one that happens the most and sticks out the most…” you paused trying not to choke up.

Dean cringed thinking your answer was going to be him as a demon slicing you up. God, knows that’s the nightmare that keeps him up the most.

“The worst one was watching you die. When Metatron killed you and Sammy and I were helpless to do anything about it. I’m assuming that’s what it feels like to lose a father because I was to younger to know what was going on when Dad died,” you confessed as you let the tears fall freely.

“Well, I’m right here now so get some rest and let that body of yours heal.”

You nodded and not soon after you were dead asleep. Dean was sad that you had nightmares from this life and that you have had to watch everyone you ever cared about die, but he was glad to hear the one thing that haunted him most didn’t haunt you nearly as bad as he thought it would.

He squeezed you one last time and placed a kiss on your head and closed his own eyes to get some much-needed shut eye. The last thoughts before peaceful slumber took him away where he was glad that he hadn’t lost you completely through everything and he was more determined than ever to catch Amara and put an end to her madness.

Tag List: Let me know if you want on my general SPN list 

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[the-record-columns]

Jan. 22, 2020: Columns

Jerry Lankford writes his obituary every day...

Ellen Lankford at age 16

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

Note:  The following column is taken from remarks made by Ken Welborn at memorial services this past Saturday for the late Ellen Kay Lankford, sister of The Record's Jerry Lankford.

  Good afternoon folks, my name is Ken Welborn and I work for The Record, a newspaper in North Wilkesboro. 

I am sad—yet honored to be here today to speak with you about Ellen Lankford, who died very unexpectedly this past Monday morning at the young age of 57.  Speaking at a service like this is privilege I do not take for granted, and today is no exception, but for some reason, this one feels different.  I will just do the best I can, speaking from my heart.

As I mentioned a moment ago, I work for The Record in North Wilkesboro where I have had the pleasure of working with Jerry Lankford, The Record's editor, for over 20 years. We spend more time together than most married couples do.  I personally value loyalty above all else, and in working with Jerry through these years, I have come know and trust him like very few people in my life—and thanks to him I have had the opportunity of getting to briefly know his relatives.  I never met his brother Gary, who died as a young boy.  Sadly, however, in our years of working together, I have watched him lose his entire immediate family; first his mother Willa Mae, then his brother Mike, and now Ellen, his sister and last sibling. This is the third funeral he has honored me by allowing me to speak.

Jerry Lankford is sad today, I can only imagine how sad he must be, but he sits on that church pew down front today with a clear conscience, because he knows he has spent his entire life caring about—and taking care of—his family.  And a clear conscience is a soft pillow.

I do not profess to have gotten to know Ellen Lankford nearly as well as many here today.  Most of what I know about Ellen came from conversations with Jerry.  He was proud of her—how smart she was, how well she did in school, earning a master's degree in Biology from Appalachian State University and continuing her education further at Wake Forest University School of Medicine.  She made a career as a laboratory scientist at various institutions in Guilford County where she spent most of her adult life.

He also spoke of Ellen with great respect and pride for her willingness to be such a loving aunt to his daughters, and, when Ellen, Mike, and Jerry's mother, Willa Mae, died in 2009, Ellen seamlessly transitioned to a grandmother figure to those girls. She took on the same role for Jerry's grandsons, Sammie and Charlie, years later. 

When Jerry's own health issues prompted his moving in to live with Ellen at her apartment in the Mulberry Community, he will tell you that her medical background, her “Mother Hen” nagging, and her “Fear of God” proclamations, helped get him on the straight and narrow, and has made a substantial difference on his own road to better health.

Again, I cannot profess to knowing everything about Ellen Lankford, but, some months ago, circumstances worked out in such a manner that I was able to do a favor for her regarding some things she had left stored for some time in Guilford County. It really wasn't that big of a favor as far as I was concerned, but Jerry said Ellen was truly grateful and wanted to do something for me. Of course I told him no, that nothing was expected, but she persisted.  Then one morning at work Jerry told me that Ellen had decided she wanted to take me to lunch—and wasn't going to take no for an answer.  When I said no again, he told me I was going to hurt her feelings and would I please meet with her for lunch, as she really wanted to say a special thank you to me.

Well, the lunch went fine, and it turned out I was really glad I went.  Ellen Lankford spent practically all of the entire hour and a half we were there talking about one person—her baby brother, Jerry.  She spoke of his love and kindness for her and of how he had taken such wonderful care of their mother, and everyone else in their family.  She told stories about growing up with Jerry, about the warm feeling of security he gave her just knowing that he was always going to be there for her.  As she continued to speak, it was with tears in her eyes—tears of love—tears comfortably shed in front of what amounted to a perfect stranger—because Jerry meant that much to her. I told her what I could in the way of “Amens” to what she was saying, reminding her that I trusted Jerry with anything I had, and of the countless times he has covered my rear end so to speak, and how I knew he would always keep my confidence. Ellen and me had a Jerry Lankford love fest, and I was a proud participant. 

After that lunch I felt as though I knew Ellen a lot better, and felt better about her. 

We would have an occasional visit if I answered the telephone when she would call to speak with Jerry. I always noticed the little lift in her voice as she would ask “...has my baby brother has made it down there yet?”  It is totally appropriate that when Ellen was in distress this Monday past, Jerry immediately stopped his work and went to her side.  He talked with her, he comforted her, he told her—and once again showed her—that he loved her. 

And he held her hand as she died. She was not alone in her hour of greatest need. Jerry saw to that, as he always saw to everything.

I hope you folks are following what I am getting at. 

I noted earlier that this funeral felt different to me, and it still does. While we are here today to honor the life and memory of Ellen Lankford, I would also like to note the obvious, that funerals are for the living as well. 

As I noted earlier, this is the third Lankford funeral at which I have spoken—I do not want to do a fourth. Jerry Lankford should be there to conduct my funeral. To that end, I would ask, as an appropriate way to honor the life and memory of Ellen, that this family continue to take Jerry into their arms. Hold him close and give him the love, the kindness, and the respect he deserves—simply put, that which he gives every one of you, every day of his life.  He needs it.  He appreciates it.  And I know in my heart that Ellen would certainly approve. 

  Thank you.

Terror and Murder for political gain

By AMBASSADOR EARL COX and KATHLEEN COX

Special to The Record

The United Nations designated Monday, Jan. 27, as International Holocaust Remembrance Day. 

This day also marks the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau; two World War II Nazi extermination camps located in Poland where millions of Jews and others suffered and lost their lives. 

Next week more than 40 world leaders will gather in Jerusalem to participate in special events and ceremonies called ‘Remembering the Holocaust: Fighting Antisemitism.’  Why? Because humanity is obligated to make certain that ‘never again’ will there be another Holocaust. 

Recently it was revealed that an official Palestinian newspaper published an article calling for murder on Holocaust Remembrance Day in Jerusalem.  Their goal is to disrupt, and perhaps even cancel, the ceremonies.  We’ve heard nothing of this from mainstream U.S. news outlets but that’s because what Arab leaders say to their people in Arabic is very different from what they say to the English speaking world. 

Contained in the article is the statement, “One shot will disrupt the ceremony and one dead body will cancel it.”  The implicit message is that one of the 40 world leaders slated to be in attendance will be a target.  This is unacceptable.

The Palestinians are deeply opposed to the Holocaust Remembrance ceremony taking place for several reasons.  First of all, most Palestinians have been taught that the Holocaust never really happened. In fact, the president of the Palestinian Authority, Mahmoud Abbas, promotes and perpetuates the lie that the Holocaust is a myth. Secondly, the Palestinians believe that Jerusalem, both East and West Jerusalem, belongs fully to them and that it is a place where Jews do not belong. In plain language, Palestinian leaders are promoting murder to further their political agenda.

The international community must reject the Palestinian Authority for promoting terror and murder. They must not be given a free pass. Terror and murder cannot be used, or threatened to be used, in order to achieve political goals. These are the people with whom the world wants Israel to make peace.  It’s outrageous.

Miles and Miles of Hotdogs from an Igloo

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

How do you eat a mile-long hot dog?

One foot at a time or at least that’s how Linda Green approaches the process.

Linda Green stopped in at the Igloo shop in Millers Creek to pick up her order. Linda likes her hotdog all the way which includes a split grilled hotdog on a toasted bun with mustard, chili, onions, and slaw. Linda is a loyal customer who has been getting her hot dog, and ice cream fix at the Igloo for the past 40 years.

When I ask her how many she had ordered over the years, it seemed to work out to average two or three for most weeks. With a mile having 5,280 feet it has taken 40 years, but Linda is close to either side of a mile of delicious hot dog bliss.  

Matt Maston was also in line, he has been placing his Igloo order for more than 30 years, he’s another fan of the all the way dog, and he is well on the way to his membership in the Hotdog Mile Club. Matt recalled attending Millers  Creek Elementary   School across the highway from the Igloo and making regular trips.

Nowadays the menu offers up a variety of other options, however the hot dog rules supreme at the Igloo. The business opened in 1976, and was owned and operated by Chancie and Ruth Ashley, who were chicken farmers. The chicken business was changing, and the couple wanted to look at other income sources.

The building was a mail-order novelty concept. When the Igloo opened for business, the people in the surrounding area enjoyed visiting for ice cream. After two years the hotdogs were added to the menu, and over time the chili and slaw were perfected and become a favorite for loyal customers.

Kay Call is the daughter of Chancie and Ruth Ashley, and is now the owner. She recalled the opening days, when for the first two years, ice-cream was the only offering. Hotdogs were the first non-ice-cream food added; the boiled hotdogs were a favorite, however when the grill was added customers loved the extra flavor profile of grilling the dog to finish it off. The chili was, and still is, made from scratch with a slight sweetness and a nice texture. The slaw is made fresh and not complicated.

Cindy Dillard has been employed at the Igloo for 28 years and was working the grill during my visit. Cindy moved around the kitchen and filled order after order with the greatest of ease.

Debbie Whitley has been employed for a few years and said she enjoys being part of the seven-to-eight-person team that keeps the food flowing.

Cindy said the chili and slaw are so well-liked that a lot of the regulars order their dogs sloppy, which is double the amount of an already generous portion.  “It’s sloppy alright, and it’s good,” she said.

I do not doubt that there are many unofficial members of the hot dog mile club. It’s easy to lose track over the years, but one thing is for sure. The modest hot dog has a way of bringing people together and producing a lot of smiles.

Kay has done an excellent job of giving the hot dog its place of honor and respect. She has also preserved a piece of our Americana landscape.

Most of the Igloo buildings have been taken down. However, the one in the Millers Creek Community is standing and is home to a revolving door leading to miles and miles of tasty hot dogs.

You will need a napkin!