watch your step

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳˢ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳ. ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿʸᵐᵒʳᵉ, ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ.

[themonstersamongus]

“𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚍, 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 . . . 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙼𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎/𝙷𝚎𝚛.

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚍. 𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜. 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜.

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑: @stanfordprepped @righteouslysin @ofblackskies @occxltis @bleakfated @retriibutions @held-heart

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑: @theoneswithoutpacks @rpsocsandcanonohmy

[themonstersamongus]

continuation with @xthedevilyouknowx from here

Sam didn’t answer right away. He just sat there on the edge of the motel bed, elbows on his knees, watching Dean through the cracked-open bathroom door while the early morning light filtered weakly through the stained curtains. Then, quietly, he reached over to the nightstand and slid the untouched cup of coffee he’d grabbed earlier toward Dean’s side of the room. Still warm. An offering.

“You were yelling again,” he said finally, voice rough with sleep. Not accusing. Just honest. His eyes flicked over the dark circles under Dean’s eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightened around the toothbrush like he expected a fight from it, too. “You don’t gotta tell me what it was about.” A beat. “Just…” Sam shrugged one shoulder slightly, trying to make it casual even though the worry was written all over him, “wanted to make sure you were still with me this morning.”

[xthedevilyouknowx]

"I'm fine, Sam..." The words tumbling out before he even had time to think about them. It was the same lie every time his brother broached the topic. Shoving the toothbrush in his mouth, he brushed a bit too aggressively to be comfortable. Causing his gums to bleed. There was an anger settled in his very being that seemed to always be seeping through his pores. Hell had done Dean Winchester no favors.

Spitting into the sink, he sighed, glancing up into the mirror only to see his brother's gaze hadn't strayed. "Listen, why don't you do us both a favor, and just forget it okay? You worrying about it isn't gonna do either of us any good. Can we just get to work please? What did Bobby send over?" He questioned, doing his damndest to change the subject. They'd just finished a case, and originally had been planning on hitting the road this morning, but Bobby had sent something else along the line, so it seemed like maybe they were staying put.

@themonstersamongus

[themonstersamongus]

Sam's jaw tightened almost immediately. Dean wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. The nightmares, the anger, the way he snapped whenever anyone got too close to the truth. Sam had spent too many years watching his brother carry things alone to believe the act. He let the silence hang for a moment, studying the back of Dean's head while the coffee between them slowly cooled.

"Yeah, okay," he said quietly with a slight eye roll, though neither of them believed it. He pushed himself up from the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, for somebody who wants me to forget about it, you spend a lot of energy making sure I notice it." There wasn't any accusation in his voice. Just tired honesty. The kind that only came after years of having the same argument in different motel rooms.

Sam glanced toward the case file Bobby had sent over, grateful for the distraction even if he wasn't ready to let the subject die completely. He picked up the folder and flipped it open, skimming the first few pages. "Looks like three people missing in the last month," he said. "Same town. Same stretch of woods. Local cops think it's animal attacks." He snorted softly. "Which usually means it's definitely not animal attacks."

For a second, his attention stayed on the papers. Then his eyes drifted back to Dean. The dark circles were still there. The tension was still there. None of it had magically disappeared because Dean wanted it ignored. "We'll work the case," Sam said finally, his voice softer than before. "But if you start yelling again tonight, I'm waking you up." He shrugged one shoulder. "You can be mad about it tomorrow." With that, he tossed the folder onto Dean's side of the table and grabbed his coffee. "Now hurry up and finish getting ready," he added, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. "The sooner we solve this thing, the sooner you can go back to pretending everything's fine."

[themonstersamongus]

continuation with @xthedevilyouknowx from here

Dean stared at him for a long second like he was genuinely considering murder. Then he snorted softly through his nose and dropped his duffel beside the ugly motel armchair in defeat. “First off,” he muttered, shrugging out of his jacket, “she laughed at my jokes. That practically obligated me to buy pie.” He pointed a finger at Sam without any real heat behind it. “Second, you’re six foot four. You fold onto couches like a dying spider. Last time we shared a room you kicked me in the kidneys three times.”

Dean grabbed one of the flat motel pillows off the bed before Sam could protest, tossing it toward the chair with practiced annoyance. Or, well… his chair now. “Besides,” he added, already settling himself against the armrest with the long-suffering sigh of a man who’d accepted his fate years ago, “you get bitchy when you don’t sleep.”

A beat. Dean glanced over just long enough to make sure Sam actually looked okay after the drive before immediately pretending he hadn’t checked at all. “Don’t make it weird,” he grumbled, waving him off. “Just shut up and take the bed before I change my mind.”

[xthedevilyouknowx]

"I do not get bitchy," Sam scoffed, knowing it was a lie even as the words slipped from his lips. He pretended not to notice his brother actually checking on him. He was tired, but.....overall he was fine. For the most part anyway.

"Trust me, I'm not complaining. I'll see if they had any other vacancies tomorrow if I can hustle a few games of pool..."

He didn't particularly like doing it, but it was necessary. They needed to make money somehow. "I'm setting the alarm for first thing in the morning. We need to get cracking on this case so we should get about a solid four hours."

@themonstersamongus

[themonstersamongus]

Dean barked out a laugh before he could stop it. It was short and tired, but genuine. "Four hours?" he repeated, looking at Sam like he'd just suggested a luxury vacation. "Look at Mr. Optimism over here. What, did somebody hit you in the head on this hunt?" He stretched out further in the chair, boots propped against the edge of the motel desk. The springs underneath him groaned in protest, which only earned the furniture an offended look. "And yeah, you absolutely do get bitchy. You get that wrinkle right here—" Dean pointed vaguely between his own eyebrows. "—and then suddenly everybody's an idiot except you."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched Sam settle onto the bed. There was something familiar about this. Same crappy motel room, same impossible case, same argument about sleep they'd been having for over twenty years. For all the monsters and apocalypses and near-death experiences, some things never changed. "Also," he added, crossing his arms behind his head, "if I wake up tomorrow and find out you hustled some poor trucker out of his gas money playing pool again, I'm taking your fake FBI badge."

The amusement faded slightly as he glanced over at his brother. Sam looked exhausted. Hell, Dean knew he looked just as bad. Neither of them had gotten anything resembling decent sleep in days. Still, seeing Sam on an actual bed instead of folded in half on a motel couch made something in his chest unclench.

"Set your alarm, Samantha," he muttered, already closing his eyes. "But if that thing goes off in four hours, I'm haunting you." Another pause. "And if you snore, I'm smothering you with that pillow I gave you." His lips twitched. "Consider that brotherly love."

[crispyblonde]

@themonstersamongus asked: [  breath  ]  sender  stares  at  receiver  in  disbelief,  forgetting  how  to  breathe from the reunited meme !!

her heart is racing at least double the rate of the seconds passing by. she feels the rhythmic pulsing in her throat. thinking about seeing him nearly every moment since she'd found herself alive didn't actually prepare her for it. dumb luck on an attempt to take down a werewolf led her to meeting another hunter. soon she would learn it was even luckier that the give her a number active for the winchester brothers, rather than scrunch his face up in disgust at the mention of them. however, her being alive wasn't exactly news that could be shared over the phone. so she paid some kid one of the last ten dollar bills she had to say that his mom had been saved by them and he thought the town he was in needed some of their expertise. couldn't hurt that the signs of a werewolf were so obvious that even she'd picked up on them, right?

now that he's standing before her she's not sure this was the right move either. easier for him to believe this is all a trick when he's already here under false pretenses. there are countless things he could believe her to be besides herself, ones that she still has no idea about. best she can do is wait patiently until he's able to convince himself of the truth. especially since she can barely string together a coherent thought at the moment. ❝ sam. ❞ her voice cracks on one simple word. when did her mouth get so dry? the blonde purses her lips, a few moments passing before she tries again. ❝ i — i don't know why i'm here. ❞

[themonstersamongus]

Sam forgot how to breathe. One second he had been walking into another hunt with another lead in another dead-end town that looked exactly like every other dead-end town they'd ever driven through. The next, the world had tilted sideways. His feet stopped moving. His mind stopped working. Everything just... stopped. Jessica. For a horrible second, he thought he was hallucinating. Maybe a trickster or a shapeshifter or some monster wearing the face he'd spent years trying—and failing—to forget. His pulse hammered against his ribs hard enough to hurt. Every instinct screamed at him to reach for the knife tucked beneath his jacket. Instead, he just stared.

"Jess..." Her name came out rough, barely more than a whisper. Sam swallowed hard, but it didn't help. His throat felt like sandpaper. His eyes searched her face desperately, cataloging every detail without meaning to. The curve of her smile, the way she stood, the crack in her voice when she said his name. They were details he'd spent years carrying around like old photographs in his head. Details he'd been terrified of forgetting. Yet seeing them here felt impossible. "You died." The words escaped before he could stop them. Not accusatory. Not angry. Just stunned.

Sam took a step forward and then immediately stopped himself. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to grab her shoulders, to hug her, to make sure she was real. At the same time, he wanted to run because none of this made sense and things that didn't make sense usually got people killed. His voice dropped lower. "I watched you die.

The memory hit him like a freight train. Fire. Smoke. Screaming. Helplessness. Dean dragging him out of that dorm room. Years of guilt packed into a single moment he'd carried that night with him for so long that it had become part of him. It was part of the reason he'd become who he was and part of the reason he'd never really stopped hunting. Then he looked at her again. Really looked. And for the first time, the suspicion started losing ground to something else. Hope. Dangerous, reckless hope. His eyes burned.

"Tell me something only Jessica would know," he said quietly. "Anything." A shaky breath escaped him. "Because if this is real..." His voice cracked before he could finish. He looked away for a second, struggling to get control of himself. "If this is really you, Jess, then I don't know what to do with that."

[picksmusic]

@themonstersamongus said: put that fucking thing down before you hurt someone.

✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐖HAT 𝐃OESN'T 𝐊ILL 𝐘OU ...

" relax, little brother. " dean's smile jaunts, certain & unserious, to slant on one side. his hand doesn't lapse around the artifact he just unceremoniously plucked from its hidden resting place. " i've got it under control. "

sparks fizz & erupt from the thing he's holding. it renders scalding, white hot against his plam. yelp splitting his lips, dean drops it & hops back, away from the item where it clatters to the floor.

he gives his blistering fingers a shake.

lips pursing. " okay ... maybe i don't. that thing hurt like a mother --- "

[themonstersamongus]

Sam stared at Dean's hand for a long moment. Then at the artifact. Then back at Dean. The silence stretched just long enough to become judgmental. "Uh-huh." He folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow so hard it practically deserved its own ZIP code. "You know, every single time one of us says 'I've got it under control,' somebody ends up bleeding, cursed, possessed, or dead." Sam nodded toward the artifact lying on the floor. "And congratulations, Dean. You managed to speedrun the first step."

The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself as he stepped closer. "Seriously, are you okay?" His eyes dropped to Dean's hand. "Because that looked less like having it under control and more like getting into a fistfight with a toaster." Sam crouched carefully beside the artifact, pointedly not touching it. "You ever notice how every bad decision we've made starts with one of us picking up the obviously evil glowing thing?" He glanced up at Dean. "Actually, don't answer that. We'd be here all night."

Another look at the artifact. Another look at Dean. "I'm gonna need you to sit down before your next brilliant idea is to pick it up again and see if it hurts less the second time."

[crispyblonde]

@themonstersamongus asked: "i just want to live a peaceful life." from the kind meme !!

it will always break her heart to know that all he's ever wanted is to be normal and safe. quick footsteps erase the distance between them, her arms snaking over his shoulders. her hands gently grip the back of his neck, one thumb brushing over the nape. ❝ i would do anything to give that to you. you deserve it. it's not fair that you've never had a moment where you didn't feel like you should be looking over your shoulder. ❞ she'd had nearly twenty-two blissful years of that and while she isn't confident either of them will ever get more. she doesn't care what heaven's bogus prophecies or the yellow-eyed demon's cruel plans had to say about him. sam winchester cared so much and was given so little. in fact, the universe seemed to want to do nothing but take from him. the reasons she stood before him now weren't altruistic. at least it was a thwarted attempt to use her against him in the end.

❝ if you think there's an opening, we could try to cut and run. maybe there aren't as many monsters in portugal. or a little cabin in iceland under the northern lights. ❞ these are surely pipedreams, but the idea of running away doesn't sound half-bad at the moment.

[themonstersamongus]

Sam's laugh was quiet, breathless, and full of disbelief. Not because the idea was ridiculous, but because for one dangerous second, he could actually see it. A little cabin somewhere nobody knew their names. No demons. No angels. No prophecies hanging over their heads like storm clouds. Just Jessica. Just normal. God, he'd wanted that once. His arms slipped around her waist almost automatically, holding onto her like she might disappear if he let go. For a moment, he buried his face against her hair and closed his eyes. He could almost pretend they were back at Stanford. Back before everything went wrong. Back before monsters and blood and destiny had taken a sledgehammer to every plan he'd ever made.

"Portugal, huh?" he murmured, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "That's your escape plan?" His hand rubbed slowly across her back. "Not gonna lie, I always pictured us somewhere with less... international airfare." The joke faded as quickly as it came. Because that was the problem. Every time he let himself imagine it, reality came crashing back. There was always another hunt. Another apocalypse. Another thing waiting around the corner with his name on it. Sam's grip tightened slightly before he forced himself to relax.

"I used to think that's all I wanted," he admitted quietly. "Normal. A house. Maybe a dog and a couple of kids running around driving us crazy." His throat tightened around the words. "And then after a while, I stopped letting myself think about it. It hurt less that way." He pulled back just enough to look at her. The sadness in his eyes wasn't just for what they'd lost. It was for everything they never got the chance to have.

"But if there was an opening?" Sam asked softly. "A real one?" His thumb brushed against her cheek. "I'd take it in a heartbeat, Jess." A small, bittersweet smile appeared. "Portugal. Iceland. A cardboard box behind a gas station. I wouldn't care where." His voice dropped lower. "As long as you were there."

[themonstersamongus]

continuation with @rpsocsandcanonohmy from here

Delilah laughed once. Not because anything about the conversation was funny, but because she knew exactly what he was doing. That soft voice and patient look. The one Sam Winchester pulled out whenever he thought he could fix something with enough understanding and a well-timed heartfelt speech. It worked on a lot of people. Unfortunately for him, his daughter had inherited the Winchester stubborn streak from both sides of the family.

"You always do that," she said, shaking her head as she looked away. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, nails digging into her sleeves. "You say something like that and suddenly I'm supposed to forget the actual argument." The frustration in her voice cracked around the edges. "I know you love me, Dad. That's never been the problem." She paced a few steps before turning back toward him. The hurt was easier to hide when it came out as anger. She got that part from Dean unfortunately. "You say you want me to be happy, but every time I make a choice you don't like, you look at me like I'm making a mistake." Her jaw tightened. "You talk about letting me decide what I want, but you already decided what my life was supposed to look like years ago. And it wasn't this."

For a moment, her expression softened. The anger gave way to something smaller. Something sadder. "I know this isn't what you wanted for me," she admitted quietly. "Trust me, I know." Her eyes dropped to the floor. "You wanted normal. Mom wanted normal. But normal stopped being an option the second I started seeing things." Delilah swallowed hard before meeting his gaze again. "I'm not hunting because I think it's fun. I'm not doing it because I'm trying to rebel or prove something." She took a shaky breath. "I'm doing it because people get hurt, Dad. Because I can help. Because every time I try to walk away from this life, somebody dies and I spend weeks wondering if I could've stopped it."

The silence stretched between them before she finally spoke again. This time, her voice was much quieter. Much younger. "You keep asking what'll make me happy." Her eyes glistened despite her efforts to stop it. "What if I don't know?" A pause. "What if I'm just trying to do the best I can with the life we got stuck with?"

[themonstersamongus]

continuation with @rpsocsandcanonohmy from here

Delilah's grin was downright smug as she kept the training knife pressed lightly beneath Sam's jaw. Not enough pressure to hurt him, just enough to make her point. A few loose strands of hair had escaped her ponytail during the sparring session, sticking to the sweat on her forehead. Her chest rose and fell with exertion while she looked down at him where he'd landed on the mat.

"Oh, that's cute," she said, trying—and failing—not to laugh. "I finally get you pinned and your first response is basically, do it again." The knife spun easily in her hand before she pulled it away and offered him a hand up. "You know most dads would be at least a little concerned their daughter just got them at knifepoint." The second Sam took her hand, she used the opportunity to yank him the rest of the way up with a little more force than necessary and satisfaction flashed across her face immediately afterward. She'd spent years trying to catch up to the impossible standard that was Sam Winchester and actually winning, even once, felt pretty good.

"And for the record," Delilah continued, pointing the training knife at him accusingly, "I know for a fact you were holding back. I've seen you fight actual monsters. I've seen you throw grown men through walls, and that includes Dean." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "If you're doing that annoying parent thing where you let the kid win so they feel better about themselves, I swear I'm gonna be offended."

Her expression softened a little after that. The teasing faded just enough to reveal the pride underneath it. Because the truth was, getting praise from her dad still meant something. More than she'd probably ever admit out loud. "So yeah," she said, resting the knife against her shoulder with a crooked smile. "I can do it again." Her eyes sparked with challenge. "Question is, Dad... can you?"

[themonstersamongus]

Got two more drafts queued up to post later today. Gonna work on the rest after work

[entangledmuses]

@themonstersamongus asked: ❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜ (dean to lisa)

Lisa turned from the pancakes she was making and smiled as she looked at Dean. "Didn't think you would mind, its not like you were currently wearing it." She teased lightly as she turned back to the pancakes.

"Grab a seat, pancakes will be ready soon." She then said, and turned her head to look at him "There is butter, syrup, fruit. unless there is something else you would like on top of them?" She asked. "I probably have it in the fridge. Also there is fresh coffee, and orange juice."

[themonstersamongus]

Dean paused in the doorway of the kitchen, still half asleep, hair sticking up in about six different directions. His eyes dropped immediately to the flannel hanging off Lisa's shoulders, and a slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself. For a second, he just stood there watching her move around the kitchen, the smell of coffee and pancakes filling the house. It felt normal. Weirdly normal. The kind of normal Dean never really trusted because it always felt like it could disappear if he looked away too long.

"Yeah, okay," he said, finally stepping farther into the room. "I'm not sayin' you can't wear it," His eyes lingered on the shirt for another second before he pointed at her with a lazy smirk. "Just saying, I spent twenty bucks on that thing and somehow it looks better on you than it ever did on me. Feels a little unfair, honestly."

Dean crossed the kitchen and stole a strawberry from the counter without asking permission. He popped it into his mouth and immediately earned himself the look he knew was coming. "What?" he asked around the bite. "Quality control. Somebody's gotta make sure breakfast isn't poisoned." The smirk widened when he caught her expression. "Occupational hazard."

At the mention of toppings, he pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah. Butter, syrup, stack 'em high enough to violate several federal breakfast laws, and we're good." His gaze drifted toward the coffee pot, and he grabbed a mug before leaning against the counter. "Coffee, though. Definitely coffee. Pretty sure I'm running on about three hours of sleep and stubbornness."

For a moment, his expression softened as he looked at her standing there in his shirt, making breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world. The smile that followed was smaller this time. More real. "Thanks, Lisa." He shrugged one shoulder, like he hadn't meant to say it out loud. "For all this. For... y'know." Dean took a sip of coffee and looked away almost immediately. "Just don't get used to me being sentimental. Ruins my reputation."

[entangledmuses]

@themonstersamongus asked: ❛ you’re about as intimidating as a butterfly. ❜ (sam to Lisa)

Lisa rose a brow and crossed her arms across her chest as she looked at him. "Be glad that you think that Sam, I can promise you, you go after those I care about, and Momma bear comes out and she is not a pleasant person to know." She told him.

"Lucky for you, because of Dean, you fall under that Category, but if you hurt him, there will be hell to pay." She said.

"Besides, you know there are poisonous butterflies right?"

[themonstersamongus]

Sam stared at her for a second before a reluctant laugh escaped him. He shook his head and leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. Lisa always had a way of catching him off guard when he least expected it. Most people would've backed down or gotten defensive after being called out like that, but Lisa just doubled down and somehow made it sound completely reasonable.

"Okay, first of all," he started, holding up a finger, "the fact that you immediately had a comeback for the butterfly thing is honestly a little concerning." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself. "Second, I wasn't planning on testing this whole 'Mama Bear' theory you've got going on." He paused briefly before adding, "I've seen Dean when somebody he cares about gets hurt. One Winchester is enough, thanks."

His expression softened a little at the mention of Dean. Sam knew how much his brother cared about Lisa, even when Dean tried to pretend otherwise. The guy had spent most of his life carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but somehow Lisa always managed to make him put some of it down. That alone earned a lot of respect in Sam's book. Anybody who could get Dean Winchester to slow down for five minutes had to be tougher than they looked.

Then she mentioned poisonous butterflies, and Sam blinked. "See, that's exactly the kind of fact that makes me think you've got a list somewhere," he said, pointing at her suspiciously. "Normal people don't just have butterfly-based threats ready to go." His grin widened as he shook his head again. "But for the record, message received. Don't hurt Dean. Beware of butterflies. Got it."

For a moment, his teasing gave way to something more genuine. He looked at her and offered a small nod. "Seriously, though? You don't have to worry about me hurting him." His voice was quieter now, carrying a weight only another Winchester could really understand. "Dean's my brother. Trust me, nobody gives me more hell than he does, but nobody means more to me either." Sam's smile returned a second later. "Besides, if I did somehow manage it, apparently I'd have you to deal with afterward, and honestly? That sounds way scarier."

[themonstersamongus]

Y'all I finally have a queue tag because my drafts are up to 20 as if that's a lot

[themonstersamongus]

Had my glucose test today and I just slept for 4 hours and I'm still still tired

[themonstersamongus]

@thewiickedones like for a soulless!Dean starter!

Dean was cleaning blood off a knife when Sam walked into the motel room. Not because it needed cleaning and not because he was checking for damage. Just because he was bored. The blade caught the yellow motel light as he turned it lazily between his fingers. There was a corpse cooling three towns over, the case wrapped up neatly with a bow, and yet Sam was staring at him like he expected something. An explanation, maybe. An apology would suffice.

"You're doing the thing again." Dean spoke without looking up from the knife. "The staring." Finally looking up, he pointed the knife vaguely in Sam's direction. "Usually people do that when they're trying to figure out if I'm a serial killer or if I just look like one." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Good news. The answer's both."

Dean tossed the knife onto the bed and leaned back in his chair, his boots landing on the motel table with a dull thud. Somewhere in the room, the TV droned on about a missing dog nobody cared about. "We got the monster and nobody died." A pause. "Well, nobody important." Another pause. "...Too soon?" Not that he cared. At least, he didn't think he did.

Dean grabbed a beer from the six-pack on the table and popped the cap off with his lighter. "You know, most people celebrate after a hunt." He took a sip. "Eat a burger. Get drunk. Hook up with somebody who'll regret it tomorrow." His eyes flicked toward Sam. "You just keep looking at me like you're trying to solve a math problem." A grin. "Which is weird, because you're usually the math problem."

Dean settled deeper into the chair before gesturing vaguely around the room. "So go ahead." Another drink. "Ask whatever's rattling around in that giant forehead of yours." The grin sharpened slightly. "Or keep staring." A shrug. "Honestly, this is the most fun I've had all day."

[themonstersamongus]

Like this for a starter with soulless!Dean mutuals only pls I have yet to use this verse

[themonstersamongus]

Gonna be getting a new monitor for my computer tomorrow!

[themonstersamongus]

I ordered the Gfuel x The Boys Compound V collectors box months ago when it was on pre-order and it finally arrived to my house! I'm so excited!