So I just had Mark Pellegrinos q and a. While answering a question of mine about how he gets motivated for life it got very deep and resonated with me and I started crying. He noticed and took me up on stage and gave me a hug. He told me if I came to see him later he would give me a list of books that make him feel better about life. I think I’m going to die now.
Thought I’d add this since this post has been getting attention again recently, he did stop everything at autographs in order to write this list for me, followed by the sweetest, “hang in there”
(Almost) All my photo ops from SPNMont this weekend. It was absolutely amazing and the connections I made with the actors and with new friends was simply magical. The memories will last a life time.
So I just had Mark Pellegrinos q and a. While answering a question of mine about how he gets motivated for life it got very deep and resonated with me and I started crying. He noticed and took me up on stage and gave me a hug. He told me if I came to see him later he would give me a list of books that make him feel better about life. I think I’m going to die now.
I will be attending the supernatural convention in Montreal next weekend! If you want to meet up while I’m there just send me a message! Also, let me know if anyone is participating in Rowena’s witching hour on Saturday, as I will be there! Can’t wait to have another great weekend and meet more great people!
ABOUT: I should basically just call myself a sad blog now because i’m incapable of writing a happy ending. For @oneshoeshort birthday challenge.
“Omnipotent” - having unlimited power; able to do anything
When you were young you would have never thought your boyfriend would be God. Or well, Chuck, as he demanded everyone call him. However, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You wouldn’t trade looking into his baby blues for anything else in the world.
You used to constantly face judgement from your hunting partners, the Winchester brothers, for your choice in men. Though you eventually convinced them that having literal God on your side could only be a positive. You lived with them in the bunker, sharing your room with Chuck whenever he came to visit. He was often gone, but whenever you really needed him, he was there.
You sat in the backseat of the impala, heading to a hunt in Kansas City. The familiar rumble of the engine mixed in with Dean’s rock music easily put you to sleep like it did every time. Unfortunately, your dreams today weren’t the peaceful ones that you were used to.
The images that flashed behind your eyes were hard to make sense of. It was a blur, but once in a while you were able to make things out. Chuck’s blue eyes. Your (e/c) eyes. Dean and Sam watching from afar. All you could feel was discomfort and sadness until your body jolted awake, a hand on your shoulder.
“Get up (Y/N/N), we’re stopping for lunch.” Dean had been the one to pull you from your sleep.
You looked up and saw a little roadside diner. As your stomach growled you were more than happy to get up and go outside. Your happiness only grew, and you easily forgot your previous dream as you found Chuck inside the diner. You jogged up and immediately pulled him into a hug. He was slightly taken aback by your tight squeeze but melted into it.
“How’d you know we were gonna be here, babe?” You spoke up first, releasing him from your iron grip.
“I always know where you are. Kind of my.. Boyfriend duty I guess.” He grinned shyly. You often forget about his well, limitless power.
Soon you were quickly running out of the diner, food in hand. After Chuck had been told the diner didn’t serve nacho cheese he had threatened to ‘expose’ the waitress on his cat blog. You had all decided it was best to just get back on the road before anything got too out of hand.
Now you were leaned up against Chuck in the backseat. You gasped and grabbed a hold of you finger as you got a papercut from the paper wrapping on your burger. Chuck grabbed your hand, but you quickly ripped it away and sat up, knowing what he was planning to do.
“You know I hate it when you heal me, Chuck.” You spoke with a bit of a pout, wiping the blood onto your jacket.
He just sighed, expecting the argument like always.
“I don’t see why. I could save you a lot of trouble you know.” He countered. Once again reaching out for your hand.
“It’s not natural okay? I can deal with it, I’m strong. I just want to live a normal life. As normal as it can be when I’m dating God.” You chuckled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Truly feeling the desire for normalcy.
“Hey. You know I hate the G-word (Y/N).”
“You stop with the healing and I’ll stop with the ‘g-word’.”
“Deal.”
Now he wished more than anything that he hadn’t made that deal. The hunt had gone well. They killed what turned out be a ghoul. But not before it had gotten you.
The brothers prayed to Chuck as you begged for him. He’d left before they’d gone to the warehouse. Saying he needed to work on his autobiography. As he arrived he saw the worst possible thing he could have imagined. You lay on the floor in front of him. Blood gushing out from a wound in your chest as you stared up at him. He wanted to save you. He tried to save you, but you stopped him every time.
“Don’t you dare heal me Chuck.” You sputtered out, tears in your eyes.
“I could save you! You could live!” He was growing desperate, trails of tear flowing down his face, landing in his beard. Yea, he could see you in heaven but he didn’t care about that. He cared about you getting to live and see the world. With him.
“Just please don’t. Let me be normal. Let me die normal.” You voice was even weaker now. It brought tears to the eyes of the Winchesters who stood by watching. Knowing it wasn’t their place to get involved.
Chuck couldn’t bring himself to save you. Not when you begged him like that. He had the power to do anything. But he didn’t have the power to go against what you wanted.
ABOUT: I want to try and post fics more often so expect more of these little ‘shorts’! I also wanted to write something cute since my two fics on here are both sad as hell.
Your current position was cramped into a closet in the bunker with a german shepherd who happily wagged his tail as he attempted to jump up against you.
You’d seen him walking around the bunker on many of your outings and after determining he was a stray, you decided you’d adopt him. However knowing Dean wouldn’t approve of a furry friend within the bunker, you devised a seemingly fool proof plan to bring the dog in, and keep it a secret from your boyfriend.
Everything was going well until Dean arrived home early from grocery shopping. Now here you were, stuck in a tight closet in your bedroom with a dog who didn’t understand the concept of hiding. Your breathing stopped altogether as you heard footsteps outside the closet. You might have gotten away for it if it weren’t for your canine companion barking at your sudden loss of breath. The door swung open leaving you eye to eye with Dean as you tried to force a cheesy smile onto your face.
“(Y/N), what the hell is that?” He asked, a frown on his face as he gestured to the dog who happily sniffed at his legs.
“It’s a dog Dean, I’m sure you’ve heard of those before.” You responded lamely, trying to avoid the confrontation as best you could.
“Alright let me ask a different question. Why is this thing in the bunker?” He was growing increasingly frustrated.
“This quote on quote thing, is a living being with feelings. He’s gonna live with us.” You crossed your arms in front of him, lifting your chin and trying to look as big as possible.
“You’re adorable when you’re angry (Y/N/N).” A small smile crept onto Dean’s face, always unable to resist your charms.
“Speaking of adorable… just look at this fluffy little face!” You lowered yourself down to the ground, smushing around the face of the dog beside your own. Dean just looked on with an amused expression. You could tell he was giving in.
“Do you really want the dog that bad, baby?” He sighed, lowering his arms to rest on his hips.
“Oh yes, yes! Dean I do, please!” You jumped up excited.
“Then we can keep him. But you’re picking up his shit, and-” Dean’s conditions were cut short as you cut him off with an excited hug and kiss that you two melted into, before being interrupted by the dog jumping up and attempting to kiss the both of you as well.
“Does he have a name?” Your boyfriend spoke between chuckles.
“I was thinking… Snuggles.” Dean’s smile dropped immediately.
“Alright, I think I’m gonna name the dog.” You nodded in agreement before the door to the room swung open revealing an upset Sam Winchester.
WARNINGS: Suicide, Canon Divergence, Main Character Death
TYPE: Challenge. One Shot.
ABOUT: My first time writing for a challenge! Still getting into fic writing and thought this would be fun to try!
Leaves crunching under your boots, crisp air taken in to your nostrils, the full moon hanging overhead. You may have appreciated the scenery had you not been running for your life. Your chest was heaving as you continued down the forest path, trying to get away from the werewolf that you heard trailing close behind. You should’ve been able to handle it, you’d done dozens of werewolf hunts, but this time, well this time was different. This time the werewolf was someone that you’d cared about. Someone that you’d loved.
The first time you’d ever been part of a hunt you’d been thrown right into it. You weren’t ready for the situation you had been put it into, but hell if you weren’t going to put up a fight. You worked behind a bar in a little place on the corner, giving drinks to sad people who clearly needed a real therapist rather than a whiskey, neat. You provided them anyways, it was your job. You would say you felt bad for them but you had gotten used to it by now. One thing you weren’t used to however, were the two tall men who had just entered. That was the first time you ever saw Dean Winchester. They were clearly too well dressed and way too attractive to be spending their time in a place like this. As they approached the bar you knew they weren’t there for drinks, but you asked anyway,
“How can I help you boys?” you set down the glass you’d been drying and leaned forward. Your eyes widening as they flashed their FBI badges, trying hard not to seem impressed.
“FBI, huh? Cops were kicking around here earlier today, too.” you mentioned, though you figured they would already be aware.
“Yea, we think this might be an FBI matter so we’re going to ask you some questions as well. I’m Agent Lennon and this is my partner, Agent Hendrix.” The taller one spoke without fault, as the shorter, Hendrix, just looked at you with a smirk. Clearly trying to flirt with you. You made the choice to ignore him and focus on the, arguably more handsome, agent.
“Go ahead.”
As they asked questions, you answered just as fast. Maybe the strange questions they had asked you should’ve been your first red flag that things were a bit weird, but you figured it was just some weird FBI shit. You told them about Robert, the creep you suspected was behind the missing girls. Told them about how he frequented the bar, where he lived, his drinking habits, other rumours you’d heard about him. The three of you had talked for about an hour before the agents told you they had enough info. Agent Hendrix, chanced a wink at you with those bright green eyes on his way out, and you shot one back, never expecting to see them again. This didn’t go unnoticed by the taller, soft eyed, agent.
Three hours later and your shift was finally coming to an end. You said goodbye to some of your usual patrons and slipped your coat on before heading out the side door. As you walked down the sidewalk your shoes clicked against the pavement, the full moon hung overhead and you popped a headphone in your ear, humming along to your music as you made the trek home. When you think back on it, you should’ve known better than to limit your senses like that. Maybe then you would have heard Robert sneaking up on you, knocking you out cold as he dragged you away.
When you finally came to, you woke up tied to a chair. Instant panic filled your body but you tried to stay calm and take in your surroundings. Light coming in from a large shattered window, cement walls and floors, a single door about ten metres away from you. Yep. You were definitely in a creepy kidnapping situation. You were now one of the missing girls. Before you could throw yourself into a full blown freakout, you heard steps coming towards the door, and so, you tried to stay quiet. The door opened and of course, it was that bastard Robert. God he was a creep. He had tried to hit on you at the bar multiple times but you always turned him away with a slightly rude remark.
“Morning sleepy head.” his gravelly, deep voice filled your ears as he came closer and closer towards you. You tensed up and struggled as he took your face in his hand. In this moment you decided there was no way in hell you were gonna be some damn damsel in distress. It took all your courage but you did it, you spat right in Robert’s face. Hitting him in the middle of his reddish, round nose. It took no time at all for his soft grab to turn into a hard smack across the right side of your face.
“You fucking bitch.” he growled, as he wiped his face. You ignored the stinging, keeping your face straight. Unwavering in your decision to be brave. He took notice.
“Yea, you’re brave now. You won’t be real soon. You know what you will be? Dead. I saw you talking to those agents today and I know they’ll be coming for me. Figured I’d get in one last kill before they got here. Imagine my joy when I saw you walking down that street. So distracted, and so perfectly vulnerable.” as he finished his monologue he opened his mouth revealing fangs. Like a fucking vampire. Again, you tried not to look shocked. So this man was a vampire. A twilight style vampire. So maybe area 51 is real. It didn’t seem like that much of a stretch for you to believe, in all honesty. A universe this big, there’s bound to be weird stuff. So you regained your composure, remaining silent and staring him down. As he walked around the room, droning on about, the joy of murder or something equally as insane, you took the opportunity to further assess your situation. In this time you found your legs weren’t tied down to the chair. You formulated a plan in your head, ready to act as he got closer.
“You’re gonna taste so sweet” he moaned creepily as he got right in front you, exposing your neck for him to bite. In the millisecond before he made contact, you kicked him in the crotch, rendering him dazed and giving you a few seconds. You managed to force your hands out of the rope that had held you down and tried to make a mad dash for the door. However, Robert was larger than you and caught up to you easily. So, you did all you could think of, turned around and punched him right across the face. This provided you with the time you needed as you swung the door open and began your mad dash. However you quickly realized, you wouldn’t beat this guy in a footrace, and you weren’t just gonna let yourself get caught. So you searched the rooms of the place of what seemed like a warehouse, trying to find any sort of weapon.
For some reason, it must’ve been your lucky day. You assumed this room held a stash of things the other victims had on them. You found your coat, your phone, and some… stranger things. Guns, machetes, but you weren’t going to question why they were there just yet, all you know was you were grateful that they were there. You didn’t trust your ability to shoot a gun and so you picked up the machete. As you turned around, Robert was close behind you. You did the first thing you could think of, as per usual, and sliced his head clean off. As it fell to the ground you dropped the machete to the ground and stood in silence unable to take your eyes off his body. You’d just killed someone. A vampire sure, but it was still someone. You couldn’t even process it. Robert had a wife. What would she do now? You’d just ended a life. A real damn life. It felt like there was a storm going on in your brain as you ran through all these thoughts and feelings. When you heard more footsteps your attention was drawn to the agents standing in the doorway, machetes in their hands as well.
“Well I’ll be damned if that ain’t the sexiest shit I’ve ever seen. How about you Sammy?” Agent Hendrix spoke, all though you started to doubt that was his real name. ‘Sammy’ just scoffed, embarrassed yet used to his partner’s insensitivity, as he walked forward, seeing how scared and dazed you were.
“Hey, you’re the girl from the bar right?” he spoke softly, and quietly, as though you could run away any second. Honestly, you were thinking about it. But all you were able to do was just nod, as you took in his large frame coming towards you.
“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Sam spoke as he saw tears forming in your eyes. He felt like he had to keep you safe, and so he did what just felt right and pulled you into a hug, holding you close as you cried. That was the first time Sam Winchester hugged you.
After the run in with the vampire the boys had given you their numbers, explaining everything about the supernatural and hunting. Then they continued on their way. After coming to terms with what you had done you couldn’t deny that it had felt good to end the life of a monster who had been hurting people. You became addicted to hunting. Your life had gone from a poor bartender to someone who saved innocent people like some kind of superhero. You loved it. It had been a few years and you and the Winchester boys had worked a few hunts together here and there. You and Sam had even stayed in contact between them, talking about things that weren’t even related to what goes bump in the night. But one night you got a text that was just a little bit different from the others.
“Want to go out to dinner sometime?” you read out loud from your phone. You couldn’t even believe it. You and Sam Winchester on a date. Going out together without ending the night covered in blood and monster guts. You quickly typed back a yes and arranged a time and place.
The night finally came and god, you were excited. You decided that both of you being hunters, you didn’t need to dress up too much and so you just wore a nice top paired with some jeans. As you waited inside the restaurant you finally saw the impala rolling up outside. You were surprised that Dean had deemed the date worthy enough of Sam borrowing his baby. When you saw Sam walk in you waved him over eagerly, excited for your first official date. By the time he got to the table and sat down you were already flustered. You were amazed how that man could make a plaid shirt look so good.
“Hey (Y/N).” he spoke first. You smiled.
“Hey Sam.” You both chuckled at your awkward greeting. However once the dinner got underway, both of you found it easy to talk to each other. You talked about hunts that you’d been on, your favourite colours, your favourite songs, anything and everything was discussed. The two of you flowed seamlessly together. As the night wound down and you’d finished eating Sam cleared his throat, struggling to say something. You just waited patiently, watching how adorable he was when he was ruffled.
“I was wondering if you wanted to make us, uh, well, official.” he finally stammered out. You stayed silent for a few seconds and before he could panic too much you answered back.
“God yes of course Sam. I was starting to think you’d never ask.” you saw him let out the giant breath he had been holding as he was able to relax again. This answer gave him more confidence to ask his next question.
“Dean and I both think you should move into the bunker with us. I mean, you don’t have to stay with me or anything, or, or, you could if you want, I mean-”
“Quit rambling Sam, of course I will.” You grinned as he let out yet another breath that he had worked up.
Five whole years you’d lived in the bunker now. Sleeping in Sam’s room at night, eating a “healthy” breakfast of greasy bacon with Dean in the morning. You’d gone through everything together. Every up and down was shared by all three of you. Sam was always terrified of something happening to you. It served to make him extra protective and physical with you whenever the two of you were together, and you weren’t complaining. You constantly craved his warm hugs and loved wrapping yourself up in his plaid shirts. But everything wasn’t always great. To be honest, most of the time it was terrible. The brothers were close yes, but entirely dysfunctional. Throwing you into the mix had made their dependencies even worse. Dean would yell at you if you did something that put Sam in danger, Sam would yell at you if you did something that put yourself in danger. There were constant arguments. More than you thought were healthy. But everytime that Sam held you close at night and whispered in your ear that he loved you, you would forget all about it. Pushing all your issues back again to be brought up another day.
Soon enough, you were back on a hunt. A werewolf in a small town in Texas. You’d all fought werewolves before and so you went in cocky. Unaware of what might come. After a night at a bar, you and Sam got ready to walk back to the motel, as Dean had already run off with some blonde. You should’ve noticed the irony of it. You and Sam walking out of a bar, your shoes clicking off the sidewalk, the full moon overhead, each of you sharing headphones and humming along to music. You weren’t ready for them. What you thought was one werewolf turned out to be a whole pack. Sam had no chance as he yelled at you to run. You looked back as you watched him try to fight off the five or so werewolves. You should’ve gone back to help him. But as you made eye contact with him you just saw him shake his head at you, a tear running down his face as he mouthed the words, “just run”.
Back at the motel, Dean was livid. Screaming at you, throwing things. Telling you that you were worthless, that you should’ve helped Sam. You tried to explain that Sam had wanted you to go but Dean wouldn’t listen, just forcing you into the impala and racing away to go find Sam. The ride was silent and awkward. Dean would constantly send you angry glances, and in that moment you wished you could just fold into yourself and disappear forever.
When you arrived at the place Dean suspected to be the werewolves den, Dean stormed out of the impala. Grabbing weapons for himself without even sparing you a word. He just trekked inside, leaving you to fumble through silver bullets and jog inside after him. You mowed through the wolves that were inside, Dean tearing through them with an anger you’d never seen before from him. However, anger alone couldn’t keep him going and by the time the two of you had gotten through all the werewolves in there, Dean was knocked out cold. You leaned him up against a wall in an attempt to keep him comfortable before you began searching for Sam. You just hoped you would find him alive.
You did find Sam Winchester alive. But you didn’t find him human. That damn pack of werewolves had turned your Sam into a fucking werewolf, and he was trying to kill you. And so here you were, the leaves crunching underneath you as you ran for your life. You knew you had your gun, you knew it was loaded with silver bullets but you just couldn’t do it. Thinking about killing him made you want to vomit. Then he finally caught up to you, tackling you to the ground and in the commotion, you gun went off. Shooting him right in the heart as he fell, lifeless beside you. Hitting the ground with a loud thump. All you could do was scream. Sam was dead and it was your fucking fault. Sam Winchester was dead and you would never forgive yourself for it. You watched as the blood leaked out of the wound, a wound you wouldn’t just be able to patch up. With tears streaming down your face you hugged him. That was the last time you ever hugged Sam Winchester.
A few minutes later a man came running down the path who would never forgive you either, Dean found you crying over his dead brother. One look at his face and you knew, given the chance, Dean Winchester could have killed you in that moment. So you walked back to the impala, leaving Dean to mourn.
You were sitting in the passenger seat when Dean got into the drivers side. He had no emotion on his face.
“Get out.” He spoke harshly.
“What..?” you stammered. He looked over at you and you instantly knew that he meant it. You got out of the impala and started walking. That was the last time you ever saw Dean Winchester.
It was a few months later. You sat in an old dirty truck that you’d stolen. Blasting your music over the speakers as you sang along. You tried to live, but life wasn’t worth it without Sam Winchester. You mourned the loss of any chance at a normal loving life with him. Where you would make him breakfast in the morning, as he came down the stairs of your white picket fence property and kissed you on the cheek. You would never get to have that, so what was the point? You tried to focus on the lyrics of the song as you sang and drank,
“Should’ve brought you coffee in the morning light. Something about your t shirts always fit me just right. Should’ve paid attention when I had you by my side.”
You wished the two of you hadn’t fought as much. You wished the two of you had spent more time cuddling in the mornings, more time holding each other when you were tired. As the song ended you picked up the pistol you had sitting on the seat next to you. Dean had once told you he was going to die with a gun in his hand, and you’d decided you’d go down the same. Sam was in purgatory, and you knew you were going to hell. Maybe you’d get to see him again. As you pulled the trigger, nothing mattered to you anymore.
