inwire

[inwire]

—INWIRE.

main bobby singer ellen harvelle dean winchester medi cassie robinson pamela barnes mini lee webb rufus turner

MEMES \\ OOC

MOVED TO @m0tel

[inwire]

hey gang im moving from inwire -> @m0tel !!

i shook up my muse list a lil and dw i'm taking all my plotted starters/threads with me

i just needed a revamp + to refocus on plotting + more direction with what i want to be writing, so come plot with my barbies at the new house ((: verse lists & whatever soon <3

[inwire]

whispering at the dash bc no one is around rn ... but i might be makin some changes .. rq ...

um first of all love u and love love love all of the plots + threads i got in the works rn .. kissing all ur big brains ... so this isnt anything MASSIVELY different from what im already doing but ... i think im gonna revamp my muse list + shift to a preseason/season 1 focus for everybody and keep au leaning ... break down specific arcs and eras for each character that i DO decide to keep, so its easier on my brain + to step things up plotting wise with the people i been neglecting ...

i just feel like theres been sm more freedom in that timeframe for me and im havin fun w it. i want to keep havin fun. so also i might move my blog. MAYBE. idk ! just need declutter and clean house a lil bit and see ... what im thinking ... <3

[inwire]

you didn't say the goddamn rendezvous was in a fuckin' basement. for Dean <3 romance

@hidefire

"oh yeah, head's up. rendezvous's in a fuckin' basement."

best place he could organize on short notice. bite him. money's stupid tight.

his boots creak every rickety step of the stairway down into the dusty abyss, one hand swinging blindly to feel for the chain light. once the bulb's buzzing like it's fit to explode, he realizes he's solo down here. dean turns around, looks up at her at the top of the landing, and frowns right back.

"you coming or what?" the couple weeks since they've seen each other last have been brutal, so while he's got his priorities straight, rain's seem questionable. they could be making out by now if she would get with the program. "i swear it's cleaner than it looks."

[bulletsnblood]

#𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐍𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 selective & private multi muse that includes muses from stranger things, supernatural & DC. headcanon based and severely canon divergent.

written by aether 30+ they / them EST

[i-am-a-fish]

you don't get it bro. there's this song called we are the champions. adrenaline music. hypes you up kinda music. gets me in a frenzy. he says we're the champions of the world. the world dude

[hidefire]

now she nods her head. "i am being serious. well, i was the first time. i wanna help you out." he's acting as if this is a test run. she already has a feeling for how it might go. "so like, what do we do now? when do we kill him?"

[inwire]

she earns her phone back, plus the game plan. "fuck it. right now." he downs the last third of his beer in one go and stands to toss his card on the table. "you close out. i'll get the car."

[inwire]

"If everything's going to be alright, why are you taking a gun?" for Dean from @fgreene

@fgreene

"'Cause that's the alright part." He cocks it, demonstrative. "You know, like .. " What's the word for this kind of peace keeping? Precautionary? "Quality assurance."

For a split second he considers coughing up a second gun from the boot for Forrest to carry, but he can't see that ending well. The ghost whisperer gets a crowbar instead.

"Just in case they're, y'know." He slams the trunk shut, nods toward the house. "Feeling froggy up there."

[inwire]

@insectify

For a scary evil villain lair, the cabin is lacking a certain je ne sais quoi. He expected more steel, for one thing, white rooms and eyeball scans and a minion or two running around in lab coats. Less lonely woodsman weirdo than what he's picking up here.

Each plan previous has fallen through on one reason or another (inclement weather, spotty signals, a dirty bandaid, etc) so he's somehow landed on Plan Not-a-Plan-at-All, in which he's been talked into hearing the scary evil villain out. Instead of, say, shooting him with a gun. Which he could still do. Time-depending.

Point is Dean's being really fucking polite about it. Consider it a new leaf.

He sits where he's been invited to. Keeps his hands folded neatly in his lap. Perks up his best listening ears. And is very deliberately not staring anywhere other than Noland's eyes. Or, he would be, if the guy could stand still.

"Dude." Because he can only maintain so much patience and goodwill in one damp sitting. His clothes are getting itchy. This better not include a powerpoint. "Today."

[qapsiel]

                           JACK ALREADY DOZES OFF IN THE TRUCK ON THE WAY BACK, so Castiel lets Dean handle the groceries and carries the infant inside. He lingers longer next to his bed than strictly necessary; maybe because he really doesn't want to have this conversation with Dean, and maybe because he needs to collect himself a little. It's been over a year since he saw his best friend. This is a bit emotional for him, too.

                            When he gets to the kitchen (no baby alarm; his sense of hearing is far superior to any technological device), Dean has cleared away most of the groceries. Castiel walks to his most trusted kitchen appliance, the Thermomix, and activates it before turning around to his friend.

                            "I've wanted that baby dead since the moment we learned about its existence. You know I did. But then at the playground — he gave me the power to kill a prince of Hell, and he showed me what the future could look like. And it made me think — why would he deserve death? Just because Lucifer fathered him? This doesn't make him automatically evil. Just like Azazel feeding Sam demon blood as a child didn't make him wrong. Imagine a hunter killing your baby brother all those years ago just because he could potentially become evil."

[inwire]

Nobody likes a skeptic. Dean stays one, anyway.

"That's not the same thing at all." Except for the parts where it sort of is. He doesn't need the cue to picture the albatross of Sam's dark-side potential: beginning, middle, or what they can even quantify as an end. It's seared into his skull with every other mistake they -- Dean -- has made. And how many times has he argued from the other side, to Sam, against Sam, for Sam? Cas lands every hit below the belt and then some. Dean's head swims with deja vu and gut deep foreboding. He can't fold.

"He gave you an ego boost and a vision." Simplify the appeal. "Now you're all in? Sold American? Come on, use your head." That tapers off closer to a plea than a reprimand, which may be for the best. Dredging up the past is nasty work, but if the angel insists: "How many times are you gonna fall for that schtick?"

Twice, at least, when he considers. Crowley and the Leviathan. Metatron's bullshit. Same colossally stupid song, same abhorrently selfish verse. Worse yet, he can't even really blame him for it, not when he's this removed from the sales pitch. "Look. I get you're trying to do the right thing. I do. But this?" Helpless, Dean's gaze flits over the pottery barn fueled nightmare Castiel has appropriated. He's not even angry. Not really. "Tell me how it's different. 'Cause none of this ... none of this seems new."

[hcpewings-a]

Eyes roll around so hard that it's as if they threaten to pop out of his skull. "No, Dean, matter of fact—" He's cut off before he can continue, and his lips press into a thin line. Some of us have other concerns.

A dead stare fixes his brother as he talks, waiting until he finally shuts up to speak. "Fine. And when it's not her, I'm reserving my right to mine." He lets out a sigh, pulling the door to the Impala open. "Y'know, Dean, you don't have to be paranoid over every little thing," frustration edging his tone, making it harsher than intended, but he doesn't retract the statement. He needs to hear it—even if he won't listen, Sam needs to say it. "Sometimes people really are being honest."

[inwire]

Sure he does — it's right there in the job description.

Dean plants both hands on the wheel and sighs. And squints. "You hearing yourself?" Nothing outwardly malicious, like he's genuinely checking. "'Cause it's really important to me that you're hearing yourself."

Pissing on Sam's parade isn't high priority on his to-do list though, not when they've got a fifteen minute drive across town and more questions than they started out with. He surrenders with a one armed shrug, the not-so-universal signal for I hope you're right because you want to be and not because I think you have merit in any conceivable way. That's where he's at.

"Whatever, man. My vote's zombies."

[hidefire]

she would really like to say that she leaves once the door is closed, but it’s a total lie. of course she ends up leaning against the thing, listening and waiting. because yeah, she knows him too.

“…yeah, well, what if your dad calls in an hour? wouldn’t wanna wait around to hear you had to leave early.” it’s easier to sound hurt when she doesn’t have his eyes on her.

[inwire]

"that won't happen." too quick, maybe, to make that kind of promise, but she's breaking his heart with that. anger he can handle -- dejection rubs too raw. "not tonight. i'm serious. there's nowhere else i gotta go."

the motel room's already paid for and occupied. that's one flag in the ground. he just needs nothing interesting to come up on john's radar between now and checkout and they're golden.

assuming ... assuming.

reluctantly diplomatic, "look. if you want me to fuck off, i'll fuck off, okay? won't bother you again." and he can pretend to be cool about that, until he's saying it out loud.

he leans his shoulder in the jamb, stuffs his hands in his pockets. mental maps the jackass vs. levity tightrope he can balance on right now. even on a good day, it's a toss up, but it doesn't get more doghouse than where he's standing. feels worth the risk. he clears his throat.

"only problem is, we, you know. we got that thing. remember?" vague on purpose, he pauses to listen again. "you, me. pretty binding stuff we got going on."

[inwire]

squinting at my drafts .. someone should finish these

[chapeldean]

4x01 & 9x09

[narrativeworshiped]

"jesus said he'd go before, and come back when the house is finished..."

narrativeworshiped, a independent multimuse roleplay blog featuring religious horror ocs set in a rewrite of the cw's supernatural universe

an exploration of inherited shame, what it means to be “chosen”, who deserves to be forgiven, flipping the script and wondering what tradition really is

low activity - iconless - faceclaimless - 18+ only

"all this sin and wagin' war..."

narratively continued by junestar (28, they/them) - promo credit: @local-meme-source

"...my god's comin' any minute."

[fgreene2]

FGREENE. this is a story about seeing. this is a story about being seen. an original character by kc.

[inwire]

bodyswap. both of our characters swap bodies. | @fallenangelwings for Dean

@fallenangelwings

Dean's standing at the foot of the bed, fighting a silent war of overstimulation between the slacks and the trench. Too many ill-fitting layers at once is making his brain hurt, but none so much as watching his own body blink into consciousness. The bewilderment on not-Dean-inside-Dean's face is reassuring. Fucking weird, but at least he's not in a two-places-at-once situation.

"Better be you holding it down in there, Cas." He starts a little at the sound that comes out of his new mouth. He didn't get a whole lot of exercise with it beforehand, other than a silent what the fuck in the mirror five minutes prior. It's not Cas deep but it's not Jimmy, either. Some strange in between. He shakes his head. Coughs. Gets back to vaguely threatening. "I wouldn't even know where to look for Jamie Lee Curtis."