Honestly, having two brothers who endlessly sacrifice everything for each other is great in and of itself
But making one brother a type 8 who wants to protect everyone and everything he cares about but has trouble trusting others or opening up emotionally, and never wants to be protected himself, and the other brother a type 2 who wants to help and care for everyone around him, both emotionally and physically, but never accepts help himself and doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love??
The Supernatural writers knew what they were doing, I’m just saying
So I planned to post this when I actually hit a 1,000 Followers but forgot, then I didn’t want Taking Chances Part 2 to get overshadowed by this... But then after that I pondered on how I wanted to do this exactly. But here it is!
I just want to thank each and every person who decided to follow me. No matter why you chose to I cherish each and every one of you. While I want to make a sappy post on just how blown away I am on reaching this number, I feel like it’s best not to post too much in the giveaway post. I don’t want everyone losing sight of what this post is and I don’t want it to be longer than what it needs to be. (Trust me I’d write a lot on just how amazed I am and honored I feel for it.)
Anyways, rules will listed below along with a photo of what you could win!
I also want to state that I’m sorry if the prizes don’t seem that amazing or great. I wanted to do so much more for you guys to show you just how much I appreciate you, however I got what I could with my budget. I hope you understand!
Since this is a follower give away I’d prefer if you followed me. If you already follow me and want to join than you can!
Rules
Do not like this post. I will consider it as a bookmark
Reblog this post to be entered. And to make it fun you can add why you followed me or even a comment on how I can improve my blog.
If you are reblogging the post and do not wish to join, please, please either tag it as a signal boost or state so in the reblog.
There will be three winners. (I will list the prizes soon)
The give away will end May 20th at midnight.
When I pick the winners and notify them, they will have 48 hours to respond or I will pick a new winner.
What you could win
First place will win a pin of their choosing, the Sam plushie, and a donation of $5 to their charity of choice.
Second place will win the Bobby artwork, a pin of their choosing between the last two, and a donation of $4 to their charity of choice.
And third place will win a pin, the two bookmarks, and a donation of $3 to their charity of choice.
Tagging to help signal boost or join if they’d like: @fonduegames, @growningupgeek, @abbessolute, @supernxturxl, @charlotteswinchester, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @super-not-naturall, @goldenolaf25, @addie4602, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @keelzy2, @sea040561, @nyghtshadow, @depressed-moose-78, @sleepless-sin, @smolstiel, @toriasaysso, @xi-i-i-whatsyouremergency, @timeforsmut, @itsyaboijozach
Written for Suptober20 day 18: Dark and Stormy Night
Word Count: 1.1K
As usual read below or on Ao3:
Lightning lit up the small motel room in a flash of white and thunder quickly followed in its wake. Dean looked up to see rain lashing against the windows, the wooden window panes rattling against the harsh wind. He looked over to see Sam sleeping soundly in his bed, hair framing his face as his eyes fluttered in a dream.
Dean glanced at his watch, it was just after midnight. “Dad was supposed to be here by now,” he muttered as he tried to ignore the worry gnawing at his stomach.
Dad was late sometimes, but he always came back.
Always.
Another clap of thunder sounded and Dean jumped slightly and reached for his gun out of instinct, but his fingers barely brushed the handle before he realized it had only been thunder and not someone banging on the door.
With a sigh, he slipped off his bed and moved over to the window, brushing the curtain away to peer out onto the rain-soaked parking lot. It was empty, the only other car in the lot was from another guest at the motel, but the window of their room was dark; the only light was the blinking red sign for the motel.
Dean stood there for a few minutes, waiting to hear the familiar rumble of the Impala over the storm, but the longer he stood there, the more he grew convinced that something was wrong.
“Dean?”
Sam’s small voice sounded from his bed and Dean turned to look at his brother, letting the curtain fall back in place.
“Sammy, go back to bed.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dean replied quickly, probably a little too quickly.
“Dean,” Sam said as he sat up, pushing the covers away from his small frame. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s nothing, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes flitted around the room for a second before settling back on Dean. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’ll be here,” Dean responded, it was such an immediate response, one he always had ready for Sam whenever he asked.
“Dean-”
“He’ll be here, the storm’s probably just slowed him down.”
“Dean you don’t think-”
“He’s fine, Sam,” Dean cut in. “Go back to bed.”
Sam hesitated for a moment before sliding back under the covers. “Wake me up when he gets back.”
“I will.”
Once Sam’s breathing evened out again, Dean flopped down in the chair by the window, and let his head rest on his hand while he watched the storm rage on outside.
The hours ticked by, and still no Dad.
Eventually he fell asleep to the distant rumble of thunder as the passing storm got further and further away, but he was jolted awake merely minutes after he’d dozed off to the sound of the doorknob jiggling roughly.
“Dad?” Dean called out in a whisper as he stood up to get closer to the door.
The doorknob twisted and turned a few more times as whoever was outside continued to try to get in but couldn’t. Hesitantly, Dean moved up against the door to look through the peephole and he instantly reeled backwards, nearly tripping over Sam’s bed in the process.
Sam mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake up and Dean lunged for his gun, quickly loading it just as the door splintered off its hinges, framing a dark bulky figure in the doorway.
The wind whistled through the open door, carrying rain on its back as the figure growled and lurched itself towards Sam’s bed. Dean reached for his brother, who woke up with a surprised gasp as he pulled him onto the ground, safely out of reach of long sharp claws.
“Get down!” Dean shouted and Sam ducked as Dean lined up his shot and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the chest of the monster in front of them.
The werewolf choked in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open as blood plumed across its chest before it slumped forwards, dead.
Dean dropped the gun from his shaking hands and moved over to Sam. “Sammy? You okay?”
Sam nodded numbly and Dean let out a relieved sigh just as their father appeared in the doorway, gun drawn.
“Sam!? Dean!?” he shouted.
“We’re here, Dad, we’re okay,” Dean replied.
John nodded. “Good.” His eyes fell onto the dead werewolf and then he beckoned for Dean to get up. “Help me with this, son.”
Dean checked Sam over again briefly before he got to his feet to help his father. Together they wrapped the dead werewolf in the bloodsoaked motel sheet and carried it out to the car where they safely deposited it in the trunk to dispose of later.
The rain had soaked Dean’s clothes through the second he’d stepped outside and he itched to change out of them, but his father shoved him towards the car door. “Get in, we’re leaving.”
Dean didn’t have time to protest before John was running back into the motel and reappearing a minute later with their bags and a shaken-up Sam.
John threw the bags in the trunk with the body and then climbed into the car, leaving Dean to help Sam into the backseat. Sam was shivering and there were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. Dean pulled him close, shrugging out of his jacket so he could wrap it around Sam.
“It’s okay, Sammy,” he said quietly in his brother’s ear, not loud enough for John to hear over the rumbling engine. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“What was that thing?” Sam asked.
He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and Dean’s heart ached for him. Sam was twelve years old, he should be worrying about school dances and first crushes, not being almost killed in his sleep.
“A werewolf,” Dean replied simply.
“Did you kill it?”
Dean nodded as he wrapped his arm around Sam’s quivering shoulders and pulled him close, trying to help him stop shivering from the cold. “Yes.”
“Where are we going?” Sam asked.
“Away from here, somewhere safe,” Dean replied easily.
“What if there’s more of them,” Sam worried. “What if they get us?”
Dean reached over to gently brush a wet strand of hair away from Sam’s face. “Don’t worry Sam, I’m not gonna let anything get you.” Sam nodded sleepily, he’d finally stopped shivering and his head was pillowed against Dean’s shoulder, Dean could practically feel his tiredness seeping off of him. “Just go to sleep, Sammy. I’ll protect you.”
Sam drifted off moments later and Dean looked up at his father, who’s eyes were just barely visible in the rearview mirror. John nodded at Dean once and Dean nodded back and then John turned back to the road. He then shifted against his brother, gently guiding Sam’s head into his lap before he leaned back against the bench seat and shut his eyes, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep of his own.
and now we wait....for the west coast to watch spn...cause thats when everyone comes out to live tweet and i stare at my computer screen like the addict i am, giggling every so often, favoring tweets from grown ass married men that i will probably never meet. but this is my life. for i have sold my soul. and there is no turning back now.
