and they were like brother and sister

It’s A Meta Crisis!

Anon: Hi first off I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could do supernatural story were the reader is obsessed with the show but one day she wakes up in the bunker and she finds out she’s Sam and Dean’s sister but starts to freak out and her ‘brothers’ thinks she may be sick or tries to calm her down. Sorry if that’s confusing <3

Nonnie, I need to apologize for taking so long to get this out, but I hope this was worth the wait. Like always, please message/leave something in my inbox with comments, questions, criticism, if you want to be tagged, etc. Enjoy everyone!

Summary: You are a Sister!Winchester writer and you wake up inside the Bunker one day.

Warnings: None (yes, I know the gif is a typewriter, but it’s hard to find good gifs!)

Tags: @the-third-winchester-warrior @winchesters-favorite-girl @jensen-jarpad @daughters-and-winsisters @lil-sister-winchester

Originally posted by mr-nikolo

“Aaaand, you’re done.” You say the final words of your newly written story aloud as you type them. You wrap your blanket bundle around you a little tighter and click the post button. “All right. You’re up for the whole world to see.” You sigh in relief, happier than ever to get this story out. School is about to start up, something you’re not looking forward to in any way, shape, or form.

You close your laptop slowly. You wish the magic of the holiday break didn’t have to end. The sleeping in, the bliss of not knowing what to do for a whole day, not being sure whether it was Monday or Friday. It was heaven.

You look at the clock. 11:08. Well, if you are going to get any sort of sleep for the early day tomorrow, now was as good a time as any to count sheep. You turn off your light and flop down on your bed. You don’t bother to change clothes or take off your shoes for that matter; you’d be wearing the same outfit to school the next day anyways, so why bother?

You turn your head to look around the sights of your room. A Supernatural poster from season 8 hangs on the far wall. Nearby that, you can see the different ‘hunting’ accessories you had collected over the years, scattered all around your bedroom. Some came from bygone Halloweens, others as holiday and birthday gifts. The old pocketknife with the Men of Letters symbol you carved into the handle, the iron sculpture you pilfered from a garage sale, your stashes of salt and homemade goofer dust, and the leather bag that you used for a hex bag in cosplay. A stack of plaid and flannel shirts sits piled under the poster. You’re particularly proud of the angel blade you had ‘forged’ from moldable plastic beads.

You smile, dreaming about your made up life of being the Winchester’s sister. It’s easier to gain story inspiration through dreaming fanfiction. Oh, the hunts, the magic, the creatures, the excitement, the strong sense of family. Every little aspect about it. Just, Sam, Dean, and you. Against the whole world…

Even before you wake up, you can sense something’s wrong. It’s cold. Colder than your room. You feel around for your blanket to pull up to your face. You freeze.

They’re not yours.

Your eyes open immediately. You sit up cautiously. Did I just get kidnapped? you wonder silently. A dark ceiling and plain walls meet your tired eyes that clearly do not belong to you.

You’re not in your bedroom anymore.

The walls are windowless, an odd bookshelf in the corner. Your eyes scan along the book titles: Mythology and Lore, The Official Book of Exorcisms, Shapeshifters vs. Skinwalkers Vol. 1. The entirety of the bookcase was covered with more scrolls and books like these.

“Okay…little creepy…” You glance around the room, suddenly feeling a sense of either paranoia or excitement. You’re not sure yet. The floor is made not of your soft brown-beige carpet, but a hard floor instead. The most off-putting thing is the smell; it’s a mix of air freshener and dust. Overall, pretty musty. Definitely not the smell of the scented candle at home.

Sounds are pretty much nonexistent. There was always some noise in your home. A passing car on the outside street, siblings arguing in the kitchen over who’s turn it was to use the toaster for Pop-Tarts, or the neighbor’s cat yowling in terror after being chased up a tree by a bullying squirrel.

You peer over the edge of a plain bed. There’s a large wooden chest with leather straps on it. Sort of a trunk really. You’ve never seen this before, but it’s familiar. You abruptly realize you have seen it before.

In your head.

Pieces of everything about this room fly together. The books on the shelf. The floor. The lack of windows and noise. The smell. Waking up in a different bed. Everything is how you’ve imagined it in your stories. You’ve pictured this room in your mind a thousand times, creating different story upon story in this setting.

This is the room you created for the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.

“That’s not possible…” Only one way for you to be sure. You rub your hands on the top of this mysterious box. If every other detail is right, then this would prove what was going on. Your eyes look down apprehensively, suddenly feeling a series of grooves on the lid of the trunk. You gasp aloud, trying everything to keep from screaming. A six-pointed star is burned into the top of the chest. A Star of Aquarius, better known to you as the symbol for the Men of Letters.

“Just like I wrote.” Your whole body is trembling. Jury’s still out on whether your shaking is from panic or happiness. You look down at yourself. You’re still in the same outfit you fell asleep in: black and white plaid shirt over a black tank top and ripped blue jeans. Your feet are still in the brown faux leather boots from Shopko. You’d tastefully nicknamed them your ‘Winchester Boots’. Little did you know that you’d actually be wearing them in the freaking Bunker.

You slap yourself. Ow. “Okay. Real. Not dreaming. I’m…in…the Bunker.” You turn around in place in a daze. A frightened happy smile stretches across your face. “I’m in the Bunker. The Bunker.”

You take a look at a wooden nightstand. You pull open the drawer cautiously, fearing what might be inside. Inside sits a knife, exactly like your knife in your bedroom. Your other bedroom The not Supernatural one. All the way down to the Men of Letters symbol carved inside. Which makes sense; you’ve based so much of your stories on yourself. Under that sits a small framed but faded photo. You immediately know who it should be, but your curiosity gets the better of you. You gently pick it up.

It’s happy photo of the little baby you sitting on your Dad’s shoulders. Not John Winchester’s shoulders. Your father. Riiight. The sister I created was adopted, not a Winchester by blood, you remind yourself. You stare intently at the picture, recalling the backstory you’d given your Win!sister.

A father turned into an encantado and the mom was a good friend of John Winchester so she teamed up with him in the hunting life. Y/N, became real close to Sam and Dean, helping out with research in her early years and later learning the trade. Teaming up wasn’t a constant thing, but enough to where the boys considered her their sister. John ended up killing Y/N’s dad when he showed up years later. Sam and Dean meeting up became less and less until it stopped completely when Y/N helped Sam get to Stanford. Contact resumed at Roadhouse with Ellen. Her mom died when the Gates of Hell were opened while Y/N was young. She’s been in Sam and Dean’s care since-

You’re cut off by a sudden, yet soft, knocking on the door. “Hey, Y/N.”

You know that mellow voice all too well. You gasp loudly and just barely manage to hold on the to the picture before it can shatter. Standing in front of the door is the freaking giant of a man Sam Winchester.

Originally posted by brothersinsync

He looks at you with mild concern. “You okay? Didn’t mean to scare you.” He finishes with a natural smile. “You didn’t answer your phone. Dean and I just finished one weird case. You’re gonna laugh your head off at this one.”

You back up into the side of bed, still not sure whether to be terrified or bouncing off the walls. You can barely hold onto your voice.

“S-Sam?”

“Yeah?”

Your eyebrows shoot like rockets towards the ceiling. “Sam??”

“Yeah…that’s me.”

“Sam Winchester??”

Sam steps towards you. “Y/N, is something going on?”

“Sam freaking Winchester. In front of me.” You run your twitchy hands through your hair. “Oh gosh, this is happening. This is real. This-this-i-i-it’s. Holy mother flippin’ Metatron. You’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam smiles unsure with a little laugh in his throat. “Y/N, you’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.”

You start gesturing frantically, as you usually did when you fangirled. “Yes yes yes yes, I know I know I know! This i-i-i-is. This is unbelievable. I mean, you’re right there and I’m right here in this room and-” You abruptly stop and take a look at Sam, who is slowly backing towards the exit. “I’ve gone meta, haven’t I?”

“Uh…Dean!” Sam shouts over his massive shoulder.

“What?”

The distant reply of another voice you know hits your ears and a dorky grin stretches across your face. “Oh man, Dean’s here too. Oh boy. Oooookay…”

“C’mere for a sec!” Sam gives you a funny look. “Just…stay right here for a minute.”

You sit down on the bed, beyond happy to comply. “Okay!” Your energy level is off the charts.

Sam walks out of the room with a slightly faster pace than you expect. You hear his footsteps recede to where they’re undetectable. You get up off the bed, a whole new strength coursing through you; in your sudden excitement to see the Winchesters, you ignored the fact that not only are you in a different place, but you’re different too. Your body is roughly the same height, maybe a little taller. But you’re extremely fit now. You feel muscles bulging out of your arms, calves, and torso. It’s a whole new thing. You’re still around the same size as you were, but more of a body-builder version rather than a light exerciser.

You run your hands along the slightly bulging muscles in your upper arms. “Cool.” Your eyes sidle to an unopened closet. A new thought hatches in your mind. “I wonder…” You walk over and open the door, adrenaline and adventure filling your energetic body. You smile. Inside, behind the rack of clothing, is the set of weaponry you dreamt of always having. Shotguns and rifles and swords and pistols and ninja stars and salt rounds and-

You lay your eyes on the two weapons you crave the most: the Enochian carved angel blade from your I See Wings series and three sets of throwing knives you imagined: One for demons, one for creatures, one for witches. Each knife set was enchanted with spells you had found in the Bunker, designed with silver or iron or salt.

At least, that’s how you wrote it. You still hope it’s true.

You pry one out from it’s meticulously crafted case. Oh, the glory of holding one of those babies is indescribable. The black leather grip, the smoothness of the knife, the simplistic beauty of the curvature. You never knew how long you waited for this moment. And your new body is just begging you to try the knife out. You curl it back almost daintily, aim and…

Originally posted by twoidjitsinthesalvageyard

Before you can let your blade loose, Dean himself comes striding into your room. He’s on guard instantly when he sees you with the knife. “Woah, Y/N.” He rushes over to your side and grabs your wrist. “If you wanna throw, we’ve got the shooting range, not your room.”

You stare at him in utter shock, that goofy fangirl smile coming back onto your face. “Dean?” you whisper. Your eyes grow wide. “You’re…real…”

Dean knits his eyebrows together. He scoffs and sits you down on the bed by your shoulders. “Course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You can see Sam standing in the door, hesitant to come in the room. Your eyes flick rapidly between the two of them. “I’m-I’m really here? This isn’t some sort of…prank or-or joke or…” You look into the Winchester’s eyes, ever growing concern stretching across their faces. “I mean…you’re both real…” you breathe out.

Dean sets your throwing knife on the bed. “Y/N, are you high?” The seriousness in his voice throws you off guard.

“No! No, no, nope!” you yelp. “Definitely not high.” You scan around the room distractedly, trying to ground yourself on something. “Not high…definitely…not…”

“Uh-huh…” Dean clearly doesn’t believe you. He turns to Sam. “And you just found her like this?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on-”

“What was the last thing that happened to you?” you interrupt. If you can figure out what just happened to the boys, then maybe you can figure out how you got here.

Dean takes a breath. “Well, you wanted to stay and get some research done. We just got back from some weird ass musical about our lives.”

Season 10 episode 5, you immediately think. “So, you’re not a demon anymore and,” you point to Sam, “you just killed Calliope then, right?”

Sam squints at you. “How do you know that?”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” The expression on Dean’s face just melts your poor little fangirl heart. The concern, the honesty. Ugh.

“I…I don’t know. I just woke up here and…” You struggle to find the right words when a lightbulb goes off. You stand up off the bed. “Do you remember when Balthazar zapped you two to an alternate universe?”

Both Sam and Dean groan. “Damn, that was bad,” Dean complains.

“Well, think of this as a reverse one of those.” You grin sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the room as it dawns on the boys. Sam speaks up first.

“You mean…you’re from…”

“Not exactly.” You rub the back of your neck. “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I write stories about the show Supernatural. Mostly about if Sam and Dean Winchester had a sister…” you fade out seeing as Dean’s head looks like it’s about to explode.

“Wait, you what??”

“In the show, it’s just…well, you two. But, I began writing my own stories imagining if you two had a sister. And I guess I’m having some kind of meta crisis right now, apparently. I woke up here in the world I created.”

“In the body of our sister.” Dean sounds more hostile towards you than before.

“Not exactly. It’s sort of a reverse Balthazar situation with a bit of Chuck mixed in.”

Sam looks the least freaked out out of everyone in the room. “Okay. So, you wrote about…us and if we had a sister? Why if?”

“In my life or universe or whatever, Y/N Winchester doesn’t exist except in the stories I write.” You take a look at Dean who looks like he could Hulk out on you. You raise your hands defensively. “I based her on me though. So, it’s not like I’m possessing her; I am her. Sort of.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You wrote her so you are her?”

“Pretend you rewrote the Lord of the Rings with you in them. But, you didn’t want to name yourself after you, so you came up with another name. Like…Jim. Then you find yourself in that story you wrote as Jim. But you based Jim off of you so it is you in it’s own way.”

“This is already making my brain sick.” Dean rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“No, I get it. That makes sense.” You silently thank Sam for saving your bacon.

“The only question is how I got here. I literally went to sleep and woke up here. Nothing different than normal.”

“Okay…if you were writing this, as a story, what would you explain it as?”

You put a hand up to the back of your neck, a habit when you try to concentrate. “Well, if I was writing this, I’d probably be dealing with a spell of some kind, but nothing crazy happened to me last night. So,” you begin to pace, “that leaves me with…oh. Great.” You sigh and purse your lips together.

“What?”

“Hex bags. I have one in my room.” The Winchesters continue to stare at you. You sigh. “Not a witch, it’s just for cosplay and Halloween. But, I didn’t sweep my room last night. Someone could’ve swapped it out for a real one.”

Dean tips his head up to the ceiling. “I freaking hate witches.”

“Well, it might not be a witch.”

“What do you mean?”

“A witch is only one idea. It might be a tulpa, or a really messed up spirit, or-” You stop, a new idea entering your head. You close your eyes. “Ah, crap.” You raise your hand in a ‘shut-up’ gesture, simply going over to a tv set in the corner of the room and turning it on.

Dean leans forward on the bed. “You gotta kidding me.”

“Perks of writing your own world. You get a pretty good hunch on who did it.” A Casa Erotica scene starts setting up.

Sam points to the screen. “But, he died.”

Originally posted by your-not-invisible-to-me

A very familiar waiter rips off his mustache. “Think again, boys. And girl.” Gabriel pops out through the tv screen landing in front of you and the Winchesters. A weird combination of a smile and an ‘exasperated-parent face’ hits your face. The archangel looks at you. “How do they do it on BBC?” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss me?”

I love that Eurus didn’t even plant bombs at Molly’s when she 100% easily could’ve. She almost killed her brothers via bomb, killed 5 people only in the course of that game she was playing with Sherlock, and killed his best friend when they were kids. I like to think that Eurus likes Molly, and this is her version of a seal of approval for Sherlock to go for it. 

Off Limits (Skam - Chris x OC) Part 4

Pairing: Chris x OC

Synopsis: Mara Magnusson has always had everything she ever wanted in life, except for one thing. The boyish charm of her brother’s childhood friend had wrecked her poor heart and ruined her for any other guy – you can trust her, she has tried. She could see the way he looked at her, though she knew there were rules about not hitting on your best friend’s little sister. Luckily for her, there were no restrictions when it was the other way around.

Word count: 1.8k

MASTERLIST

Part 3 <<<

Chris’ head has started spinning long before he downed his first bottle of beer, or the second. He watched Mara walk around the house like she was the one hosting the party, handing beers to people, cheering and drinking with them, laughing with strangers that the alcohol cursing in her veins turned into momentary friends.  She looked as joyful and careless as ever, no one would guess she just dropped the biggest bomb ever.

There was a certain lack of logic in his reasoning, but Chris figured that since his head was already a mess, the alcohol might do more good than bad, and maybe it would make him numb. Then it would hurt less to watch her go about like nothing at all happened, like she didn’t just wreck his world and put him in a very bad place. Mara forced Chris to make a choice he has been postponing for far too long.

Keep reading

4

Ginger’s first couple of days with the Rindle Rose were as predictable as clockwork. Though she was not a solitary creature at heart, there were bulbs to be planted, seeds to be sewn, and a garden was more demanding than even her gaggle of friends. Besides, the quiet bustle of Willow Creek kept her company while she attended her allotment, and the peace she found in it felt a lot like growing up.

Having always been close to her siblings, it was their racket she missed the most. Pineapple and Apricot were twin brother and sister, now gangling teenagers who were already excited at the prospect of visiting their eldest and her steadily growing life. “Watch and learn,” Ginger would tease them, because their futures were to be much the same as hers. 

Shadowhunters

Apparently there are people upset that there most likely won’t be the scene in the Seelie court where Clary and Jace are forced to kiss by the Seelie queen.

This was when they still believed that they were brother and sister.

In my opinion that is just weird, why would you want to watch two people who thought that they were relayed be forced to kiss.

That is kinda messed up, why would you want to see that 😦😝😨😝😳😨😦

histcries  asked:

☁ !

“Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.” -louise glück

hi there everyone! i’m arielle, one of the admins, and this is intro 1/9 for my characters (call me a victim of overexcitement bc i just couldn’t stop bringing characters in!) you can find annette’s stat page here, but i’ll include a little bit under the cut as well as some potential plots or connections!

Keep reading

8

“Cersei even undid your swaddling clothes to give us a better look,” the Dornish prince continued. “You did have one evil eye, and some black fuzz on your scalp. Perhaps your head was larger than most… but there was no tail, no beard, neither teeth nor claws, and nothing between your legs but a tiny pink cock. After all the wonderful whispers, Lord Tywin’s Doom turned out to be just a hideous red infant with stunted legs. Elia even made the noise that young girls make at the sight of infants, I’m sure you’ve heard it. The same noise they make over cute kittens and playful puppies. I believe she wanted to nurse you herself, ugly as you were. When I commented that you seemed a poor sort of monster, your sister said, ‘He killed my mother,’ and twisted your little cock so hard I thought she was like to pull it off. You shrieked, but it was only when your brother Jaime said, 'Leave him be, you’re hurting him,’ that Cersei let go of you. 'It doesn’t matter,’ she told us. 'Everyone says he’s like to die soon. He shouldn’t even have lived this long.’”

The sun was shining bright above them, and the day was pleasantly warm for autumn, but Tyrion Lannister went cold all over when he heard that. My sweet sister.

Like on the list of things I want to see in future Fantastic Beast films:

1) More beasts. There were not nearly enough Dragons or Hippogriffs.
2) Credence alive and well, and becoming Newt’s apprentice, finding solace with the beasts.
3) The real Percival Graves
4) More about Newt’s backstory. Leta Lestrange. His brother. Etc.
5) The Goldstein sisters getting to do more. There was a lot to cram into FBAWTFT, but Queenie is an insanely powerful natural legillimens, and Tina used to be an Auror! Show us what they can do!
6) A really fantastic young Dumbledore.
7) Can we at least get rid of Depp’s mustache? Maybe he it grows into a beard while he’s in prison?
8) Dumbledore vs Grindlewald being the most badass wizarding duel we’ve ever seen.
9) Young Ollivander. Just because it’s something I need to see.
10) The Niffler making off with the ring when Newt and Tina get married.

If there's an East Wind.. What about the other 3 directions?

Guess what? Like Eurus is the East Wind, there are three others - Boreas, Zephyrus, & Notos. The four major ones. All 4 were siblings. Born to Eos and Astraeus, I believe.

Boreas- is the Greek god of the cold winds from the North. (Cold. Ice. Iceman. Mycroft?) From what I have read Boreas is powerful, and sounds kind of like the big brother here. But that could just be my own perception.

Zephyrus- is supposed to be the gentlest and blows from the West. Here’s the catch, Zephyrus is said to have fallen in love with a man. In some stories, he is also known to play an instrument. (Hint hint. East against West. Sister vs Brother. Eurus vs Sherlock ?)

Zephyrus and Boreas are mentioned most often in the stories. (Sherlock and Mycroft)

Notos - Comes from the South and is supposed to be a destroyer of crops. (Idk where I am going with this, but a 4th sibling???) Notos is also said to have burnt stuff down, and the fights between him and Boreas are supposed to be the deadliest. Notus’ sculpture is shown to pour water from a pitcher.

Yeah I don’t know. But that was fun. Feel free to expand on this.

There’s a lot of material on the Internet about the four winds. Feel free to check it out. 


 P.s. This is a developing and evolving post and I’ll keep adding stuff to it as I find it. Update: One more (conflicting) theory here

8

Far off, he could hear his packmates calling to him, like to like. They were hunting too. A wild rain lashed down upon his black brother as he tore at the flesh of an enormous goat, washing the blood from his side where the goat’s long horn had raked him. In another place, his little sister lifted her head to sing to the moon, and a hundred small grey cousins broke off their hunt to sing with her. The hills were warmer where they were, and full of food. Many a night his sister’s pack gorged on the flesh of sheep and cows and horses, the prey of men, and sometimes even on the flesh of man himself.

“Snow,” the moon called down again, cackling. The white wolf padded along the man trail beneath the icy cliff. The taste of blood was on his tongue, and his ears rang to the song of the hundred cousins. Once they had been six, five whimpering blind in the snow beside their dead mother, sucking cool milk from her hard dead nipples whilst he crawled off alone. Four remained.

Vincent van Gogh
Almond Blossom
Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, February 1890 
oil on canvas, 73.3 cm x 92.4 cm

Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
Large blossom branches like this against a blue sky were one of Van Gogh’s favourite subjects. Almond trees flower early in the spring making them a symbol of new life. Van Gogh borrowed the subject, the bold outlines and the positioning of the tree in the picture plane from Japanese printmaking.

The painting was a gift for his brother Theo and sister-in-law Jo, who had just had a baby son, Vincent Willem. In the letter announcing the new arrival, Theo wrote: ‘As we told you, we’ll name him after you, and I’m making the wish that he may be as determined and as courageous as you.’ Unsurprisingly, it was this work that remained closest to the hearts of the Van Gogh family.

Vincent Willem went on to found the Van Gogh Museum.

Imagine being left behind during a hunt.

A/N: My freaking nieces went & got all adorable, inspiring yet another story. In this I see the reader at the age 4/5 whereas Dean is 16/17s & Sam is 12/13. Dean & Sam are going on a hunt with John, leaving the reader with Bobby. It’s the first time the reader isn’t going to have either brother with her.

“Go say bye to Y/N boys, we gotta hit the road. Thanks again Bobby.” John said aloud, “Peanut! We’re leaving!” John shouted up the stair well. Soon the sound of little feet running down the hallway were heard.

“Daddy!” You shouted at your dad while leaping into his arms from the stairs.

“Hey Peanut, you’re gonna be good for Uncle Bobby right?” John asked.

“Yes Daddy!” You giggled, rubbing your face on your dad’s, getting poked by his whiskers.

“Good,” He said, giving you a kiss and setting you down, “Say bye boys, I’ll meet you in the car.”

“Bye?” You asked, turning to face your brothers with a confused look on your face, “What’s he mean De? You guys aren’t gonna stays with me?”

Dean knelt down to your level and grabbed your chubby hand, “Dad needs both of us on this one Y/N.”

“But…one of you always stays wif me…I don’t wanna be alone.” You said, tears building in your eyes. You buried yourself into Dean’s jacket and he embraced you.

Sam and Dean shared a look before Sam spoke up, “Hey kitten,” Sam stroked your back, “You won’t be alone. You’ll be with Uncle Bobby. I bet if you ask nice enough he’ll even put on the Lion King for you.”

“I don’t wanna watch Lion King, I wanna be wif you guys.” You pouted, not removing your face from Dean’s jacket, resulting in a muffled noise.

Sam was about to respond before the sound of the impala’s horn blared. Dean let out a huff and gently pushed you off of him. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before standing to his full height, “I love you babygirl, but we gotta go. We’ll be back in a few days.” Dean said moving towards the door.

Sam made a sour face about being forced to leave but he pulled you into a hug and gave you a kiss on the cheek, “Be good Y/N, I promise we’ll call.” Sam stood and followed Dean.

“It’s not fair to leave her behind like this Dean.” Sam said to Dean.

“I know, but we don’t have a choice.” Dean responded in a sad tone.

You stood there for a moment before you processed that they were leaving you behind.

You bolted out to the front door to see them opening the doors to the impala, “Please don’t leave me alone!” You yelled to them as tears fell from your eyes. They both gave you a sad smile before getting in the car and shutting the doors.

The impala drove away as you sat down on the porch crying. “Hey now sweetheart, why are you crying?” Bobby asked you while sitting down next to you.

You looked up at Bobby with tear stained cheeks as tears continued to pour from your eyes, “They leaved me Unca Bobby.” You cried, leaning into him.

Bobby sighed and wrapped his arm around you, doing what he could to provide the comfort that he knew only your brothers could provide.


The Everything Tag

@allamericandaisy @jamies-supernatural-world @jensen-jarpad @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou  @adorable-assbutt @starswirlblitz @koeputkitatti @msdooos 

To all the LGBTQ+ kids in America tonight who are having trouble processing the shocking results of this election and feel like they cannot see a future for themselves, please please PLEASE know that you are LOVED by so many, and you are so important to our future. You are valid, you are important, and we can all come together to continue moving forward. There is a place for you here, and I will continue to fight every day for it along with so many of our other brothers and sisters. It will be difficult. The mountain of equality we thought we were close to summiting just got a lot bigger. But PLEASE stick around and continue to fight the good fight. I love you so much. Please take care of yourselves. ❤️

Voltron characters as shit I've done
  • Hunk: screamed and flailed so much I fell off my couch while watching tv cause one of my favorite characters was in danger
  • Pidge: put an entire gallon of milk in our plate cabinet and left it there without even realizing
  • Allura: screamed 'SHIT, FUCK--SQUIRREL' on my school bus when a squirrel ran into the road in front of us
  • Lance: dabbed at my old science teacher and screamed when he dabbed back
  • Keith: burst into tears at 4am because I realized I had a crush on Lance
  • Shiro: jumped down a flight of stairs to prevent my baby sister from falling off the bed
  • Coran: ran into my brothers room and threw an actual teabag I had just used and screamed 'YOU JUST GOT TEABAGGED'
  • Matt: jumped onto my bed and my pants were so big on me that they flew off
  • Zarkon: carried my baby sister under my arm like a briefcase (she loves it)
  • Rolo: had my friend talk me down from stealing my teachers stapler bc 'the opportunity is right in front of me'
  • Nyma: stabbed a child in the head with a pencil when I was five bc he made fun of my hair
  • Shay: 'Phoenix get out of the tree you need shoes'
  • 'I WILL jump onto the roof if you don't shut the fuck up'
Dreamland

Anon: Hi! Erm I was wondering if you could do a sister Winchester story were one of her brothers accidentally knocks her out during training and while she’s out she has a like a weird dream (completely up to you) and when she wakes up she’s face to face with her brothers and is slightly freaked out//just starts laughing but soon complains about the pain?¿? Sorry it’s long lol I love your writing!!

Nonnie, this was tons of fun to write! Thank you for the idea! As always, feel free to comment with your thoughts. I could really use some constructive criticism.

Summary: Sam Winchester, your brother, accidentally knocks you out during a sparring session. While unconscious, you take a very interesting trip to dreamland…

Warnings: None

Tags: @the-third-winchester-warrior @winchesters-favorite-girl @lil-sister-winchester @jensen-jarpad @sister-winchester-imagines

The air is pervaded with the lovely stench of sweat. BO wafts through the air of the simple training room Dean had set up. A mat lies in the center of the room serving as a safe sparring area. And on that mat, circling each other, are you and your brother, Sam Winchester, both of you holding taped fists in front of your faces. You are locked in yet another combat training session that had lasted for longer than you wanted. Covered in sweat and some new bruises, you’re ready to end this fight.

“C’mon, Sam. You’re not scared to hit a girl, are you?” you taunt.

“I’m not the one who’s been circling for the past few minutes,” Sam retorts back.

You grin peevishly. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you from down here. Your head’s too far up in the clouds! Watch out for any passing planes, Godzilla!”

“Look who’s talking, shrimpy.”

“Hey, Being fun-sized has its advantages. For instance, I can do this!” You dive between Sam’s legs, spring up behind him, and wrap your arms and legs tightly around his torso before he can react. You tighten your grip on his neck. “What’cha gonna do about that, huh?”

Sam’s voice comes out a little strangled. “Just this.” He rolls on the ground so suddenly, you release your grip in shock. Sam stands back up, placing a foot on your chest. “Take that, squirt.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that one, moose man.” You drive your hands into Sam’s ankle, twist, and throw him all in one motion. Sam loses balance and falls to the ground while you get to your own feet. You raise your fists again.

“Bring it on, Goliath.”

Sam does something completely unexpected. He launches himself up, throwing his whole body into a punch aimed for your face. You side step and respond with a pleasant right hook to his face. Sam staggers backward a little.

“How’s that for a taste of your own-”

Your cocky remark is cut off by Sam’s fist slamming into the side of your left temple: a perfect knockout punch. You feel weightless as you slam to the mat on the floor, watching everything go dark.

You start swimming up through bright green water. You see a bright sun just up above your head. Instinct tells you to start going in that direction. You break through the surface of the water, only you’re not up anymore. Rather, the water is the sky and the clouds and light are the ground. You drop down into a fluffy bed of a pink cotton cloud. You shred a piece and pop it in your mouth. Cotton candy. Yum. You look around to get an idea of your surroundings. Even in your dream life, your hunting skills kick in. Usually, your dreams were filled with faces of past hunts, nightmares of monsters, the normal PTSD-esque effects of being a hunter. The last time dreamland was like this, you were around 7 years old.

“BLAAAAARGH!!” You turn around suddenly, prepping your dream self to be chased by whatever fictional beast was after you. Right on schedule. But what you saw was surprising even for your mind. Up, towering above you, was a giant version of your brother, Sam, his long hair even longer than usual and moose antlers sticking out from the top of his head. Great big moose legs erupted from beneath his torso, like a Greek satyr. Only with moose legs.

Just when you think it couldn’t get any stranger, out on the shoulder of Moose-Man popped a mini version of Dean. Before you can even comprehend the obscurity of this new development, he starts chittering rather than talking. And a squirrel tail pops out behind him.

“Ooookayyyy…..this one is new.” You reach into your back pocket, expecting to find your normal dream weaponry. A knife, a gun, an angel blade, sword, you have a bit of a versatile inventory normally.

You got an ostrich.

But, hey. Whatever works. You chuck it at Moose-Man and Squirrel-Boy. It kind of explodes in a fury of feathers. You think. You heard some very indignant squawking followed by the sound of soft flapping, similar to when Cas appears. You turn and start running. Well, jumping from cloud to cloud, but same thing. You sort of lunar landing jump from blue cotton candy cloud to pink cotton candy cloud, hearing angry squirrel chittering and mad moose bellowing. You don’t dare look back, lest you start dying of laughter. Or getting squashed by Sam the Moose-Man’s giant hooves. Or dying of laughter while getting squished by Sam the Moose-Man’s giant hooves.

Either option doesn’t sound too good to dream you.

The heavy thudding of Moose-Man’s footsteps is louder than Kansas tornadoes.You keep running, fearing the prospect of falling behind. But it feels like you’re stuck in slow motion. Legs like jello, you try and try and try to move. Sprint. Crawl. Fly. Anything to get you away. More angry squirrel chatters tell you the mutant version of Dean is closing in on you. You turn your head an impossibly 180 degrees to see what-in-the-name-of-Chuck is going on.

As if it couldn’t get any weirder. Squirrel-Boy now has Wolverine claws erupting from his adorable little furry front paws. He raises one hand up, ready to shred you like a cheese grater. So, you react normally: talking your way out of it. You raise your hands in front of your body, saying the first thing on your dream-addled mind.

“I DON’T SPEAK SQUIRREL!!!”

Furry Dean chitters at you confused. The razor sharp blades from his paws shethe themselves. “CRCRCRCKRRK RKERKRRKCRKCEKR?”

“No hablo Squirrel-o,” you respond, a little desperately.

“KRCERCKEKRK.” Dean scurries up a newly appearing tree with…pie leaves? The towering plant has a trunk of stacked aluminum pie tins, sort of like a palm tree, and up at the top, spreading out from everything, sat steaming, fresh-baked pies of every kind. Squirrel-Boy curls up to where the ‘leaves’ meet together. He snatches the nearest pecan pie and starts munching on it happily.

You brush off cotton candy from your pants. “Well, that takes of Dean. So, what about-” A giant roar interrupts the rest of your sentence, but, hey, you get your answer. “There’s Sam…”

You look up. Sure enough, there’s the demented, furry version of your older brother. You do not hesitate to even try and throw a weapon at him this time. You just turn tail and RUN.

Dreamland really sucks. In the midst of your running, an orange, black winged, guinea pig with Cas’s face pops up in the middle of your path. Being the subconscious dream klutz you are, of course you trip on it. You twist your body and fall straight on your back. The guinea pig of Cas uses his miniature black wings to fly away from you.

Just as you turn your head to watch the fuzzy guinea pig leave, another noise snaps your head back to where it was.

“RAAAAAAARRRRGH!!!” Moose-Man Sam raises one of his giant moose hooves and slams it down on your face-

You sit up, cold sweat dripping off your face. You pretty much immediately regret it though. The pain on the left side of your head hurts to high heaven. You unintentionally gasp out, raising one hand to feel the damage.

“Y/N?” You’re pulled into a great big hug from a brother you hadn’t noticed sat beside you. You recognize who it is immediately.

“Sam.”

You notice you’re in your bedroom in the Bunker, soft blankets pressing against the bottom of your arms. Sam sits on the side of your bed.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to go full force on you.”

“Damn right you didn’t. I’m refereeing all your sparring matches from now on.” You hear the gruff, but caring tone of your other brother from elsewhere in the room.

“When you went down, I panicked. We couldn’t wake you up, so we brought you to your room. Dean and I were about ready to take you - what are you laughing about?”

You start laughing hard and loud. Your dream had been so crazy that to actually hear Sam and Dean sends you into a fit of laughter. You couldn’t have been laughing harder if you were sprayed with the Joker’s laughing gas.

“Y/N? What is it??” Dean sounds so confused in the corner of your room. You remember how he was up the pie tree. His voice only stirs you into a deeper laughing spree.

“What?! What’d I say??” Dean shrugs at Sam, both brothers past confusion.

“No hablo Squirrel-o!” you giggle out, quoting your dream self.

“That’s it. Sammy, we’re getting her to a hospital now.”

“Heheheheheh-owowowowowow.” Your laughing turns to painful wincing at the pain in your head. You rub your severely bruised head. “I’m fine, guys.”

Dean looks at you with more incredulity than a teacher who hears the ‘my-dog-ate-my-homework’ excuse. “Uh-huh. Sam, pick her up. I’ll warm up the car. We’re getting your head checked.”

“Ah, Dean. C’mon, man. It was one punch! I’m fine!” you protest. You start to get out of bed, but you immediately trip. Sam catches you before you faceplant on the floor.

“Woah! Yep. We’re taking you to the doctor. C’mon.” Sam hauls you up off the ground and wraps your arm around his shoulder. “Can you walk at all?”

You experimentally place one foot on the ground. “Maybe…” You slip again. “Nope.”

“All right.” Sam scoops your legs up. “What the heck was that about?” he asks you as he carries you up to the door outside.

Your head is lolling around a bit more than you’d like it to, still hurting bad. “I had the weirdest dream, man…” You half giggle when you remember bits and pieces. “I threw an ostrich at your Moose face.”

“Aaaand you’re done.”