scrolling back up the fanfiction because you didn’t expect this part to go the way it did so now you have to direct the entire scene in your head with different camera angles and voice acting
People who look at characters who are specifically designed to be gross/disturbing/scary and decide that they're friend shaped and/or boyfriend material are the best kind of people
As a problem arises, an awareness of it grows; until, as if by accident, that awareness is infected by the problem and its anxieties. Did the problem pre-meditatively choose to allow itself to infect that awareness, and the individual it belongs to? Is the anomaly sentient?
How far one allows this conjecture to extend is the duty of the individual themselves to constrain. However, when an antagonism is hidden by the assumptions that it is inanimate, an enemy might grow in might and power, and slip unseen into those interior territories (that often go entirely undefended) of an individual. Thus, conflict emerges.
Those who decide upon survival awaken to the threat, and choose to begin constructing defensive measures.
A junction emerges. Does one imagine a castle, with a bastion wall, a moat, and a drawbridge?
The donjon was where the occupant of the castle would retreat during a siege. Awaiting psychological siege is a practice that becomes habitual to the mentally damaged.
It is easy to add to this fortification.
Does one, (in contradiction) imagine a computer firewall, with the greatest core depths of the brain an encircled kernel?
Would the human then become vulnerable to infection by computer viruses? The first thoughts of the very worst people would be to begin calculating how to build viruses that can infect humans.
Are offensive attitudes and manoeuvres viable? Training is required. But, who should we ask for this training?
Training to combat insurgent activity takes years. Most would select the ways of the warrior; but, there are other pathways; other roots to an eventual victory.
To select to train as a healer means to reconcile that one must learn to heal by first healing others.
In the annuls of the ancient history of psychosis, there are individuals who stand apart from the majority. They are the unsung heroes of great psychic conflicts that, truthfully, effect the global populous to every corner of the world. As a Golden Age is about to initiate, a huge upheaval often preempts it – from which, the people must then resume what was paused during this elongated span of turbulence.
It’s been a fairly long while since I’ve posted any stories on here, which is soon going to change. I’m determined to give my draft box a good rummage through and post the creations that were never brought to light.
Fics coming up shortly:
Poking the Bear - A Crowley x reader fic, full of smutty smut smut and confined spaces.
Close encounters part 8 - the epic finale to the series, including the long-awaited love scene with our boy Castiel.
Now that I think about it, all I've been writing is smut.
Or maybe not. Here's some other fics to be posted:
Just a scratch part 2 - The story deepens with Mick and the search for a cure. Ooh, drama.
Marvelous misunderstandings - A cheeky Metatron fic, cause who doesn’t love this little A-hole; especially when he’s human.
Witches be crazy parts 2 and 3 - The crossover series with The Originals. This is purely because Vincent Griffith makes for an epic character and I can't get enough of him. Guilty pleasures and all...
Last but not least, I'm diving into a new set of short stories to shake the 2019 blues. I'm calling it the Supernatural spectator collection. Each one will portray an event within the supernatural universe but from an outsider's perspective. Absolute crack and chaos.
These include:
Dental care - Garth’s first case, but from the patient's point of view.
Sandbox shitstorm - An angel/demon fight at heavens gate, from the perspective of a random jogger in the park.
The Significance of the Grapefruit (or Pulp and Grind)
Summary: You’re avoiding Cas. Dean explains why. You go fix it.
Pairing: Cas x Reader
Warnings: Smut. Nothing y’all haven’t seen in gifs on this hellsite.
Word count: 2997 (Damn, I wanna go write a 3-word sentence, now.)
A/N: This is primarily for the @spnfanficpond‘s Galentine’s Day Exchange, written for @trollhunter94! My muse, however, took a powder, hence why this is late, and I’m officially THE WORST. Last night, I decided to beat her (my muse, not Lisa) over the head with prompts from the Pond’s S14 Weekly Episode Challenge, and she one-upped me by spitting out this fic, which includes one prompt from each week, weeks 8 through 13. Instead of listing them all here, I’m just gonna bold them in the text. (If nothing else, I now have ONE story to add to all of those masterposts.) Special thanks to Tiffany @butiaintgonnaloveem, who read over this and came up with the alternate title!
You stuck your head into the kitchen, and upon seeing the person you were actively trying to avoid, you pulled it back out and proceeded to beat a hasty retreat. Unfortunately, Dean saw you and chased after you.
“Hey! Y/N!” he called, running after you until he caught up, which didn’t take much since you were trying to look nonchalant and he had such a long stride. “Haven’t seen you in days! What’s going on, kiddo?”
“Nothing!” you replied, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“Then, where’re you goin’? You don’t want to hang out with us, anymore?” Dean looked a little sad at that, and you regretted making him feel that way. After all, he wasn’t the one you were trying to avoid.
“It’s not that, Dean. You know I always love hanging out with you,” you said, leaning into his side affectionately. “I’m, uh, just going on a supply run! Need, ya know, supplies… food… and stuff.”
“We’ve got plenty of food in the kitchen, and it’s snowing outside, so are you sure?” Dean’s face flushed. “I mean, if you need supplies….” His face found an even darker shade of red.
“Not really. I just want food that isn’t burgers and pie, you know?”
Dean grimaced at you, positively aghast. “Not pie?? How dare you?!?”
Whoa nelly! This has everything. Sweet ol’ Castiel and his drunken ramblings, awkward displays of affection and some epic lovemaking. It’s perfect! Thank you <3
Warnings: Demon fight, feelings, mutual pining, declarations of love, kissing.
Summary: It only took Sam Winchester 4 months, 7 cases and one close call to fall hopelessly in love with you.
A/N: Happy Galantine’s Day @oneshoeshort! A little gift of love-struck Sammy <3 Sorry it’s late, I’m the worst.
[Yesterday]
The seconds were running out.
The hunters had become the hunted. The slippery Demon had ambushed you and Sam before a decent plan of action could be made. With a clench of it’s fist, the Demons power pulled you away from Sam’s side and slammed you against the wall.
Organs crushing and twisting inside your chests, the seconds counted down before your untimely demise. As you looked over to the youngest Winchester and saw his equal immobilization, only one option was left.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus-”.
The Demon flinched and glared at you with absolute hatred. Focusing it’s painful hold, it diverted more pain to your churning insides. Sam was quick to catch on to the plan of action, picking up where you left off. “Spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-”. His interrupted groan of agony passed the baton back to you.
With each line of incantation that was spoken, the deadly hold began to fade, allowing the two of you to plant your feet firmly and take control of the situation. Sam’s face was full of determined radiance as he delivered the final blow. “Te rogamus, audi nos!”
A plume of black smoke flew out of the vessel’s mouth and circled violently around the room, taking with it a whirlwind of dust. After it shot through the window, Sam wafted the hair out of his face and looked over to you, seeing the beaming smile and delight that illuminated your features. At that exact moment, the preoccupied Hunter experienced a feeling of clarity.
You were the definition of perfect. Someone who not only cared deeply for him, but is able to accept his lifestyle. Not to mention the fact that you have a thorough understanding of the lore. The perfect partner to hold his hand and walk into a fight; to help him hold the line.
How had he not realized this sooner?
[Today]
The sound of crunching entered Sam’s dream. It was out of place, certainly not the noise that would naturally accompany the serenity of his sleeping mind. When a pair of eyelids flickered open to focus on the audible intrusion that disturbed his slumber, the crunching became louder, more localized.
Slow and unfocused, his sight adjusted to the morning light that filled the hotel room. A turn of his head on the pillow revealed that he wasn’t alone. That’s when he discovered the source of the crunching; he saw you.
She’s sitting at the table with her legs intertwined around the wooden chair. Jaw moving gracefully as the light shines upon her gentle features. Gripping the spoon that’s hovering mid-air, her expression is blankly fixated on a section of the wall. Her mind seems to be caught up in some kind of inner debate or serious reflection.
Turning away to gaze up at the ceiling, his thoughts pondered on the events of yesterday. How amazing it felt to beat that Demon alongside you and the way it made you smile. That moment of pure happiness had ignited a spark of hope inside.
To strive for such happiness in the face of so many untold dangers is the ultimate pipe dream. Even if it was possible, would he be enough to make you happy? With a deep breath and a little push of courage, he decided to suck it up and accept these new feelings.
Long legs folded over the edge of the bed as Sam sat upright and prepared himself for the interaction. Would it be possible to act normal? To pretend as if his feelings hadn’t changed towards you, or that all he wanted was to see you smile that way again. There was only one way to find out.
“Hey”.
Sam’s distinctively gentle tone easily diverted you away from the inner workings of your mind, eyes coming into focus on the tall silhouette that came traipsing into view. He stood opposite the table for a moment, giving you a half-smile and a friendly nod.
You swallowed the mouthful of food in order to greet the youngest Winchester. “Good morning”.
To avoid any suspicion of his new-found feelings, he looked away and started walking. Your eyes followed him across the room as he headed for the counter to pour a cup of coffee. You couldn’t help but notice the way his bed clothes clung to his frame with perfection.
Little did Sam know how you felt. After spending four months with the Winchester brothers, it was impossible not to notice and admire the qualities that Sam held. He was thoughtful, intuitive and super cute. Of course, you naturally assumed that he would never be interested in being anything more than friends.
When Sam turned around with a cup in-hand, your direct gaze only served to disarm him of any confidence previously held. A nervousness held his form as he side-stepped towards the empty chair and sat down. “So, uh. What’s your plan for today?” he asked, directing any focus away from himself.
“Not much” you responded casually, stirring the spoon around the cereal bowl. Holding the cup to his face, a slow succession of sips held the perfect distraction as he studied the softness and beauty of your face. Even the sound of your voice seemed to be more enticing.
“We could check for any cases nearby or just head back to the bunker”.
A thick swallow of liquid came as a result of your reply. Going back to Kansas was not the ideal option. Dean would suss the change in him immediately. “Yeah” he coughed abruptly. “Let’s, uh. Let’s stay and look”.
Oh crap, he inwardly facepalmed. Had he just let his insecurities give him away? Sam was quick to gauge your reaction: She’s looking at me with such a curious nature, brow cocked with a small hint of confusion. It’s as if she knows. She can tell and it’s going to drive her away.
You watched as Sam’s face reacted to his inner thoughts, the lines that formed between his brows, all the while looking directly at you. His prolonged staring was highly unusual. This behavior certainly couldn’t go unquestioned.
“Okay, what’s with you?”
He mirrored your question in a defensive tone, eyes darting to the side and back before squinting slightly as if trying to hide a secret. “Nothing. What’s with you?”
“Nothing”. You mused heartily at your own reply, wondering why this had turned into an awkward word game. “But something’s definitely wrong... What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing’s wrong” he dismissed with a vague hand gesture. “I’m fine”.
He took this moment to retreat from any further interrogation, picking up his cup and kicking back his chair. Before he could escape the subject or the room, you stood up and reached out, taking hold of his arm and tugging against his hasty retreat.
“Please, Sam. Talk to me. Maybe I can help”.
Eyes falling to the floor, the sweetest smile grew across his face and a small huff left his chest. You were the only one who could help. It seems that keeping this revelation from you was going to be impossible. So, here goes nothing.
“You” he admitted quietly, feeling cautious about how you’d react to any declaration of affection.
“Me?” The instant feeling of somehow disappointing him spread through you. “Sam, I’m sorry. If it was something I did-”
“No”.
His head shook softly in amusement. Only you could feel responsible for something that never even happened. It’s one of the many qualities that made you so special. Maybe his approach was too indirect. He needed to do something bold.
Reaching out slowly, his fingers skirted down your palm and interlocked hands with you. It definitely gained your attention, his warm fingers encasing yours and pressing down with just enough pressure to send an unspoken message. Looking back up, his eyes were soft and directly focused on you.
“You” he assured, this time with an uplifting tone and a look of utter endearment on his face. It was unusual for Sam to be like this, so attentive and physical. He must truly feel this way. This was your moment of clarity.
“Sam” you said timidly, almost bursting from the feeling of overjoyed excitement. “If you like me, then... say you like me. Because, that would be kind of awesome”. The smile that escaped with your words didn’t go unnoticed. His reaction was one of relief and complete astonishment.
“I, uh... I like you, Y/N”.
Now that he had said the words, it felt so easy to continue expressing them. “I like you a lot”. His head dropped slightly, showing his response to something funny. “I think you’re awesome”.
As his eyes lifted to meet yours again, you couldn’t think of anything to say. There were no words to describe how you felt in this moment. The only way to express these feelings were through action.
Sam watched your facial expression, waiting and hoping for some kind of similar response. He wasn’t expecting you to grip his hand tighter and step forward, closing the distance between you. He certainly couldn’t believe it when your hand lifted to cup his cheek, holding his face with the softest touch. Your amusement rang clear in the only thing you could think to say.
“Awesome”.
Sam chuckled in response, taking in the pleasure of seeing you smile again, whilst discarding any remaining doubt. You liked him too, how did he not see it?
His smile faded as he continued to watch you. Something about the way you looked at him was mesmerizing, eyes so still and full of want. The more he looked, the more it drew him in, locking you both into a deep connection of stares.
The seconds passed by and Sam’s mind melted into mush. Nothing was going to distract him from this moment, from being happy. Your close proximity had unleashed this new feeling, the need to be closer, to touch you. Some unknown force was pushing his head lower, pushing him closer to you.
When his lips landed against yours, all previously lost thoughts came rushing back to his head, blurring any intake of senses. It wasn’t until you started moving your lips, that he came back to the present moment, embracing your action and increasing the pressure of his touch in response.
The deepened intensity of his kiss felt incredible, so warm and welcoming. Like home. It ignited a blazing fire inside of you, an assured determination to keep him close.This inspired your hand to fall to his neck, attempting to hold him closer if it was even possible.
It was obvious that he felt it too when his free hand moved up to rest gently on your waist, fingertips pressing lightly against the fabric of your shirt. When the rush of warmth began to grow inside, something strange happened. Sam pulled back to break the kiss, breath heavy with overwhelming emotion. How did this happen? Another huff of amazement left his chest as he looked at you.
“Is this really happening?”
You couldn’t believe it either. After pining over Sam for weeks now, he was here, in your arms and kissing you. It was a dream come true. You couldn’t help but smile as you responded.
“I hope so”.
That was it. That smile. That moment of clarity. He could make you happy.
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