Emi

She/they || multi fandom || I like to draw, write, and talk to people :DD

[emixuz]

[emixuz]

Finally able to truly start digital art

[emixuz]

𝙀.𝙏. (𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙄𝙡𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨)

𝘈 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘢𝘮 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘪𝘤

Summary: After a hunt, Dean wakes up feeling the worst he's felt in a long time. Sam then takes it upon himself to take care of his older brother, even if it's making Dean feel worse.

Disclaimers: This is a PLATONIC oneshot about Sam and Deans sibling dynamic. Wincest DNI

A/N: Heyyyyy sorry I disappeared I started college and life became a lot. but I aint dead yet so... :D

Word count: 1.7K

Dean hated being sick.

Despised every part of it—the coughing, sneezing, snot, fever spells—and would do anything to make sure he didn't get sick. Call him a germaphobe, but he’d rather be annoying about keeping everything sanitized than becoming bed-ridden and away from hunts.

But lady luck wasn’t on his side this time. 

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

Dean was feeling… off. 

Something was wrong as he drove baby back to the motel where he and Sam are staying. They just got done with a simple haunting, it wasn’t too much trouble, thankfully, and they were able to quickly kill it. But throughout the hunt, Dean could feel himself getting slightly worse and worse with every passing day. Every step had more weight to it, his mind felt sluggish and groggy, and there was a small tickle in his throat when he spoke too much. He knew damn well he was getting sick but refused to acknowledge it. 

Suddenly, a cough rattles his lungs, breaking his train of thought, and he brings a leather-clad elbow to his mouth. His grip tightens around the wheel and he shakes his head slightly as he leans back once more to continue the drive. Sam’s eyes seem to bore into the side of his head, scrutinizing every bit of movement his face made to suppress his uncomfortability.

Dean then decides to break the silence between them. “Need something Sammy? You lookin’ at me like I did something wrong.” His gaze flickers to Sam with a lighthearted air as Sam furrows his brows.

“Are you okay man? You’ve been off this entire hunt.”

“Pfft, I’m a-okay Sammy. Just had something stuck in my throat.” He assures his brother with a small smile, albeit half-heartedly. Sam just sends him bitch face number 6, the more worried filled one, and Dean chooses to ignore him for the rest of the drive. He just wanted to get back to the motel, throw himself into his bed, and never get up. 

The motel finally comes into view and Dean hastily parks Baby and dashes out of her. Dean had buried himself in the covers of his bed as Sam walked in with a snort. “Dean you’re clearly not okay, you ran out of the car like someone set fire to your ass.”

“Can’t a man crave some bedrest bitch?” Dean mumbled into the pillow, curling up into a dreamless sleep as he heard Sam scoff.

“Yeah whatever, jerk.”

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

Dean felt like shit.

Scratch that, worse than death.

It felt like an 18 wheeler ran over him, a Djinn strung him up for weeks, and a banshee wailed in his ears for hours straight all at once. And quite frankly, he wanted to die. He slowly rolled over with a groan, the mattress creaking from his weight and the springs digging into his already sore body. He shot a glance over at Sam’s empty bed and noticed the time in bright red. 6:45 am.

“You’re shitting me.” Dean muttered in disbelief before coughs racked his body. He never woke up this early on his own volition, not unless he was sick. His body felt like lead and his wrists ached as he shoved himself up into a sitting position. However, his head had qualms about that and pounded behind his eyes relentlessly. A hiss breaks free from a sore throat while the heel of his palms pressed harshly against his eyes.

And now the one person who could help him—though he’d rather take on a Wendigo by himself butt-ass naked before he asks for help—had gone off to probably get some wack-ass leaves for breakfast. He groaned in frustration and coughed again before flopping back down on the bed. Dean debates his options for a moment, he could try to get up and get something done, or admit defeat until Sam gets back…

It doesn't take long for Dean to fall into a restless sleep.

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

“Oh my god- You’re sick aren't you?”

Shit, Dean didn’t even hear the motel door open, or Sam walking in for that matter. Dean glares at Sam, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “Ladies and gents we have a winner, you want a prize Sasquatch?” The green-eyed male couldn’t help but cringe at his own voice, it was raspy and barely audible over the hum of the rattling vents of the room. 

 Sam approaches Dean's cocooned form and puts the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead. “Damn it Dean, you should’ve told me last night.” Dean growls and smacks his hand away and harrumphs.

“I don’t need my baby brother coddling me over a simple co-” A violent cough erupts from Dean’s throat, cutting off his sentence as he doubles over to continue his coughing fit.

“Dean this isn’t a simple cold, just…lemme help out man. You always take care of me.”

Goddammit. Sam was pulling out his puppy eyes. That wasn’t fair, Dean is at his weakest right now as he sighs softly. “Fine, whatever makes you sleep at night, Sammy.”

Sam practically lights up and grabs the keys to Baby and tucks Dean into the bed—much to his discomfort. “Okay, I’m going to grab some stuff to make you feel better. Make sure you don’t move. I’ll be back shortly.” And with that Sam left a cranky Dean in the motel room.

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

Was it safe to say Sam had no clue what the fuck he was doing?

Dean always took care of Sam when he was sick growing up, and never got sick around Sam. Even at Stanford, his roommates or Jess took care of him. But he just wanted to do something nice for Dean, so he just blindly begged to take care of him.

Sam found himself at a corner store staring at the shelf of cold medicine in despair. They all looked the same and yet… so different. What was he supposed to pick? Was there really a big difference between all these different medicines? Sam quickly found himself regretting rising up to the task of taking care of Dean when an old lady appeared behind him.

“Sorry young man, I need to grab something from this shelf.” 

Sam whipped around to see her standing behind him—he mentally kicked himself for allowing an old lady creep up behind him. He then panicked and blurted out, “Yeah, all good. Sorry Miss.” He shot her a quick smile and blindly grabbed at the shelf beside him, he then quickly moved out of her way and headed off to the canned goods aisle. 

The rest of his shopping trip became a blur, grabbing items he thinks will aid in Dean’s recovery and driving back to the motel. 

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

Alright, what was taking Sam so long?

A blanket wrapped around Dean’s weary form perched on the edge of the mattress. Boredom settled deep into his bones as the room swam around him. His parched lips were parted for him to breathe due to tissues shoved up both his nostrils to hold off the snot leaking out of them. 

‘I should’ve gone shopping with Sammy. Just what is taking him so long anyway?’

Dean’s dry eyes desperately scanned the dim room in a sad attempt to find any source of entertainment. The thought of research just worsened his headache, even the methodical simple task of cleaning his guns became monumental and annoying. But then his green eyes halted on the small box tv across the room, that became his oasis in the desert of boredom that consumed him. 

He took a deep breath before slowly getting up on weak legs. Dean shuffled over to the small couch and slumped down with a pained grunt. “Alright, let's see what type of movies are showing.”

He clicked the tv on and began surfing, yet nothing really stuck out to him. Dean was about to give up when the doorknob twists and in walks Sam with a bag in hand.

“Fucking finally Sam, I nearly thought you were dead.” He grumbled, tossing his head back against the couch to watch Sam sort himself out.

“Yeah, well you sound like death Dean so…” He throws a shopping bag down on the table and begins to sift through it. 

“Okay, so I got some pre-made sandwiches for you, soup, extra tissues, and…” Sam hesitated before trailing off. Dean coughs while raising a brow. “And what?”

Sam pulls out a small box and flushes darkly. “Well… umm… don’t make fun of me okay?” He begs.

Dean scoffs and straightens up with a loose grin. “What is it Sam? Did you get a box of extra large condoms or something?”

Sam remains silent, looking like he might die of embarrassment as he shows the box to Dean.

Birth control. Sam accidentally got a plan-b knockoff.

Dean looks at him in shock before erupting into laughter. Sam looks mortified and begins desperately saving his dignity, “L-Look man, I swear I got cold medicine. There was this creepy old lady who scared the shit out of me and-” He blabbers on, trying to justify himself yet Dean was too busy laughing to care. 

“I just- I can’t believe you mistook that for cold medicine.” He stutters in between laughter.

Sam’s face bursts into a deep red of shame and he scrambles to grasp his coat. “Here, I can go and actually get the medicine.”

Dean shakes his head, waving Sam off. “I don’t even care at this point or even really need it Sam.” He freshens his nose tissues before beckoning his brother over. “Just bring over the food and let's watch some tv alright Sammy?” 

He nods reluctantly and flops onto the rickety couch, tossing Dean a sandwich. Dean channel surfs for a bit longer as Sam remains silent, barely touching his veggie sandwich. “Now there’s no need to mope Sam, I don’t care. Really. I just appreciate the thought more than anything.”

Sam glances over at him through his bangs before a meek mutter escapes his lips. “...Really?” And just like that, Dean went straight into big brother mode.

He tosses the remote to the side and nudges Sam's shoulder with a grin. “Of course, it’s always great to have my little brother watching over me.” Dean slumps back onto the couch and motions at the TV. “Now let’s watch some E.T. so I can get better.” 

The tension seems to melt from Sam’s shoulders as he smiles at Dean and nods. “Sure thing Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

[emixuz]

My Supernatural OC Sebastian!!

He’s my pride and joy please be kind🙏

[emixuz]

Western Winchester…

Winchester…

Like Sam and Dean Winchester😼

[condors-safety]

happy pride month from dean winchester and castiel!!

[emixuz]

Early season Sam Winchester

I’m on a roll with my art rn, it’s crazy what finally being free from ap art does to a man😮‍💨

[emixuz]

Castiel my beloved

Did this with my finger, phone, and a dream (my hand hurts😔)

[emixuz]

Baby the Impala

Made this once I was finally done with my AP art portfolio—war is over🥹

[emixuz]

Winchester brothers spread

[emixuz]

Dean and Sam Headcanons

Sam is a huge health nut, he goes on and on about protein and fiber and watches everything he eats. He trains as much as he can with his busy lifestyle in order to stay fit. But Dean does none of that, he doesn't give two shits about what he eats and does. Yet without fail, Dean is always a bit more in fit than Sam and it annoys the hell out of Sam.

Speaking of eating, they both have different eating patterns. Dean will mix everything, he doesn't care how he eats it since it's all going through him the same way. But Sam keeps all his food separated or unmixed. If element of his meal is touching each other on his plate he'll start tweaking out internally and immediately gets icked out by the food.

Dean and Sam have wildly different music tastes, however there's only one artist they'll both listen too happily 24/7 and its Prince.

They both regularly argue with each other about comic characters. usually about who would beat who and it's how they spend a good amount of time on the road when super bored. (they once had a superman versus wolverine argument that lasted hours)

Dean is really talented at sewing and often sews mindlessly on his well worn jackets and such when he has down time. He also tends to sew Sam's clothes often due to Sam being really good at ripping and ruining his clothes.

Sam is super jumpy, and Dean is gullible under the right circumstances. so more often then not, Dean scares the soul out of Sam, and Sam pull elaborate pranks on Dean (Who falls for it every time)

Something quick and cute, I needed to get these out of my head :P

[condors-safety]

Let Me Be Part of Your World - Castiel x Mermaid!Reader

thank you @chevroletdean for letting me do one more. we gotta get all of team free will in, don’t we?

and thank you my love @cevans-is-classic for the plot idea. i knew cas was gonna be a struggle, and you came in clutch, babe. 💖💖💖

warnings: mentions of sex (not explicitly written)

genre: fluff

Castiel didn’t understand why humans loved the beach so much. It smelled interesting, but the sand hurt and it was loud and there were too many birds and-

“Cas,” Dean repeats. “Come on! Sam’s already in the water.”

He chews on his lip, shivering from the breeze. He misses the trench coat. In fact, he feels naked without it.

He sighs and slowly walks to the water. As soon as he touches the water, though? His brain short-circuits. One of the speakers nearby playing classic country tunes explodes just a bit, and the waves grow. Both Winchester brothers rush to Castiel, trying to calm him down so nothing else happens.

Castiel only snaps out of it when he hears the voice in the distance. Beautiful singing.

“I… I’m okay,” he mutters. He keeps his eyes in the direction of the voice.

“What’s goin on over there?” Dean asks, seeing the way Castiel is staring in the distance.

Cas shakes his head and looks back at the brothers. “I think it was just a figment of my imagination, Dean,” he smiles.

Dean nods, not really believing him, but then he rushes to the water once again which Sam, splashing around and playing in the water.

But he hears that voice once again.

And he starts to head towards it.

—

You sit in your cave, singing a tune to yourself. You don’t really know what it is; it’s just a tune at this point.

Your beautiful, shimmery gold tail splashes in the water as you sing, your fingers fidgeting with the new trinket you found. It’s a black cord with a little golden amulet on it, and it has horns and a face. It’s absolutely fascinating.

And then your ears pick up the discernible sound of somebody walking up to your cave. You quickly stop singing, listening closely.

“Hello?” a gruff voice calls. “Is somebody here?”

You press yourself into the dark shadows when a man walks in. “Hello?” he asks again. He seems… different than the others to you. He had that beautiful light blue hue that…

No.

Hell no.

A goddamn angel?!

Why was an angel in your cave?

And why the hell was he wearing… bumblebee swimming trunks? You’ve never seen an angel dress like that before.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued.

You quietly swim over to where he can see you. “Who are you?” you ask, your voice a sweet melody.

He spins around and faces you. “I’m Castiel. An Angel of the Lord. You are… a mermaid,” he breathes out.

“That I am,” you smile. It’s no secret that he’s attractive. You introduce yourself, and he repeats your name with soft smile.

“…that’s pretty.”

You watch as he sits on the rock, dipping his feet into the pool of water, and you heave yourself up to the rock and sit next to him. He doesn’t seem to be like the other angels. He seems… sweet. Innocent. For the most part, at least.

You talk to him for a while, and as your tail dries off, it splits to a pair of two legs. He watches in fascination as your tail disappears, and instead a shimmery golden dress appears on your body.

“…woah,” he mutters.

—

Castiel comes that next Thursday. He shows up with a smile and a small flower bouquet. “…My friend Dean says girls like flowers. I tried getting blue ones… You know, like the water?” He blushes and looks away, worrying his lip as he holds them out to you.

You giggle softly and take the flowers, putting them in a random large glass bottle you found a couple months before. “Thank you,” you smile as he sits down. You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek (which he blushes at, but you don’t see) before grabbing a small bumblebee keychain that had fallen into the water from the boardwalk. You would’ve bought it for him had you been used to using your legs, but you haven’t used them in years, so that would’ve taken a lot of time. Instead, you found it deep in the water beneath the bridge.

“…I figured you’d like it, since you were wearing bees last week,” you giggle. He smiles and takes it.

“…Thank you,” he whispers. You cross your arms on a flat rock and you rest your cheek on your forearms as you look up at him.

After a moment, he finds his words. “…your eyes are a beautiful color,” he murmurs. You blush softly, and he hesitantly reaches out and brushes your hair out of your eyes. His hand moves to your cheek, and you sit like that for a while as he tells you about his life, and you tell him about yours.

You learn about these brothers named Sam and Dean Winchester. They’re his best friends. You tell him about the merpeople and their kingdom, and he smiles as he intently listens.

—

You meet like that for a couple weeks. It’s no doubt that he’s attracted to you. You’re just unsure on if he’s aware of it or not.

He’s supposed to visit today. And you decide today that you’re going to give him the necklace you found.

And when he gives it to you? He says he recognizes it. It used to belong to his friend Dan, he says.

And then he kisses you.

And that leads to more.

Things you can tell he’s never felt before, but you’re more than willing to guide him through it.

And now, you sit against the wall, your head on his chest as his fingers comb through your salty hair. You press a kiss over his heart.

“You’re beautiful,” Castiel murmurs.

“Will I see you again next week?” you ask. Castiel nods. You tear off a piece of the shimmery fabric of your dress, and you hand it to him with a pearlescent shell. “Take this. If i ever go elsewhere, just tap the pearl stuck to the shell, and I’ll answer.”

He nods and presses a kiss to your head. “I will, love,” he murmurs. “But for now, I’m gonna stay here with you.”

god, was cas hard to write. he’s so complex, and i couldn’t do him justice i feel like, but i still had a lot of fun doing this!

liane, my love, congrats on 500! i’m so happy for you! (and once again, thank you for putting this writing challenge on. it was super fun!)

taglist

@cevans-is-classic

@keircat7

@peoplewatching-notstalker

@yftmaifky123

@jeff-da-killer1995

[emixuz]

Stylized and realistic Sam sketches

He’s so fun to draw I dunno why😭

[emixuz]

Dean Winchester Headcanons

Dean is a massive Twilight fan (team Edward)

When in high school, Dean was always jealous of the skater kids, finding them super cool. Once he stole a skateboard and practiced in the parking lot of whatever motel they were staying at while Sam was sleeping. He never got that good at it however and had to leave the skateboard behind when they skipped town.

Dean wears guy-liner, he loves the way it makes his eyes pop. He also is really good at gothic makeup because he had an old goth fling who dragged him to concerts and forced him to wear a full face.

Dean has chronic pain in his wrists and shoulders from hunting, sometimes when driving the Impala or when carrying his gun his wrists pop and ache. No matter how much pain medication he takes, the pain still lingers so that's one of the many reasons why he drinks.

When Dean drinks, he makes sure he never gets truly drunk. He may get tipsy, but he wouldn't forgive himself if he ever became super drunk and or violent.

Before Mary died, John would watch baseball with Dean all the time. John would also play catch with Dean as much as possible, but when Mary died all of that ceased. Yet Dean still held onto those memories and so he has a huge love for Baseball. At every single school they were dropped off at, Dean would sneak and watch any baseball practice or game he could. So in turn, Dean knows a shit ton about baseball and whenever he plays a little bit he's damn good at it. Every once in a while he wishes he could've gone pro.

Dean is dyslexic, that's why he hates the research part of hunts. He feels bad having Sam doing it most of the time but he's very embarrassed at the fact he can barely read so he just deflects.

Dean isn't one for labels, with between hunting and saving the world every other day he can't bring himself to really put a label on sexuality. If someone is attractive he's gonna flirt with them, he does have a preference towards women.

Dean loves rom-coms (Obviously) and pouts when Sam disses on rom-coms.

Dean can cook literally anything but pie, he doesn't understand why but something always goes wrong. Whether it's the crust, filling, or both, he just can never get it right.

I wanna get into the spn community and talk to people, but I just don't know where to start. Everyone is so cool and it's intimidating to try and talk to them T-T

[emixuz]

Sam Winchester Headcanons

Sam loves olives to a freakish degree. He would eat two cans of black olives in a single sitting then reach for a couple more cans of green olives. When he was younger, if Dean could get his hands on some, Sam would eat olives till he got sick.

Amazing at braiding hair, finds it therapeutic

Sam is secretly the biggest theater nerd ever, listening to classical musicals like Oklahoma is what got his through the rough parts of growing up. Once when John had a job in New York City, and Dean decided to surprise Sam and snuck them out to see Phantom of the Opera on broadway. That night was singlehandedly one of Sam's favorite nights ever.

Sam has the voice of an angel and dreams of being on broadway, but knows it'll never happen.

Sam's slightly allergic to citrus, not enough to really do anything but gets a slight tingle on his tongue and throat. He drinks some sort of citrus juice everyday to 'build up his immunity' (he's just lowkey embarrassed that he's allergic to citrus of all things)

Sam tweaks out at the sound of pots and pans clanging together, like genuinely starts crashing out because it feels like his ears are bleeding.

An old Stanford friend forced him to take a salsa class once and he secretly loved it.

Sam despises rom-coms or any romantic media in general, he goes on and on about how saturated the market is and makes fun of Dean's love for the genre. When watching anything and there's a random romance sub-plot he genuinely gets so mad (because he deems it 'unnecessary') and lets it sour his mood for the rest of the day.

Sam takes eons to order food because all the items on the menu reminds him of all his old Stanford buddies. Like what they would've gotten and the such.

I love writing little stuff like this, so imma try to get more into one shots and drabbles/headcannons :D

[emixuz]

Quick Sam sketch from stats

[emixuz]

Stat Sam sketch pt 2

[emixuz]

HELP WHYD I PEAK WITH THIS ART PIECE FROM TWO YEARS AGO😭