baby stash


While Kelpie is stashing babies we have to spend the day refilling our stashes of bedding and other supplies. There are some great sales on Amazon so if you feel like helping us out you can find our wishlist at

Thank you so much for everyone who supports us. We couldn’t do this without you! #rat #petrat #blackfriday #stash #love #rescue #501c3

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current fav thing to draw is lil Allura with young Coran


i have fallen hard

。:゜☆。 ・゚゚・。. it’s been a long time coming and i’ve been so selfish/possessive over these babies but finally !! here are [ 665 ] gif icons of twice’s dubu and my precious baby angel, kim dahyun !! they are in size 70x70. some of the gifs i made from scratch but most of them i just cropped and edited !! feel free to use them, a like or a reblog would definitely mean so much to me. [ LINK ]

Best Laid Plans

SPN FanFic

~Dean tries to go all chick-flick on you but fails miserably~

Dean x Reader, Sam

2,464 Words

Warnings: Gratuitous Fluff. Smidge of Smut (Barely)

A/N: This is for @lizmalfoywayland​ who sent me the amazing idea this morning. And for @bringmesomepie56​ in trade for Sammy (we’re even now)

~Feedback is the Crack that keeps the writing coming back!~

“So any big plans for tonight?” Sam asked his brother as they both reached for the coffee pot at the same time.

Dean beat him to it and let out a victorious chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he lied; a mischievous sparkle overtaking his green eyes.

“Good morning!” Y/N appeared in the archway, bouncing into the kitchen and running to Dean. Careful to avoid the hot mug of joe in his hands, she leaned up on her toes to kiss him hello. Dean closed his eyes as her lips distracted him, so much so that he didn’t notice Y/N had stolen his coffee until she pulled back and took a sip.


Y/N cringed. “You forgot the milk.”

“I did not. That was mine,” Dean laughed, watching her float over to the fridge with a smile. She was adorable, even right out of bed, especially right out of bed. Her hair was a mess of tangles and unruly slept-on waves, her eyes were bright but sleepy, and her voice was crackly and low. Also didn’t hurt that she looked hot as hell in his old t-shirt that hung down to her thighs, almost completely covering the tiny sleep shorts she wore.

“I would have thought you’d at least make me coffee this morning, Dean.” Y/N poured a splash of milk into the mug and turned to give Dean a chance to defend himself.

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Lumberjack Fantasies Alt. End #2 "Impregnate"

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Alt End 1

            That last pregnant frat member gives birth, right there in the clearing, in the arms of the gigantic lumberjack who knocked him up. His baby hits the ground running, so to speak, getting bigger and bigger in his father’s arms, and every time the kid hits a growth spurt, the crowd of lumberjacks cheers and claps like they’re watching their kid at a talent show. You’re too drunk to pay attention to the details, but by the time the “adult” lumberjacks send the newest additions into the woods to start their own lives, that last little boy has already grown to be the size of your average teen.

            Hazy and blurred, the hours pass you by quickly. You talk to some of your fellow frat members, gauging their reactions. Most seem to be ok, at least one of them is seething with indignity, but… overall nobody acts like they’ve been traumatized. The moon is high above the clearing when Hunter and the other jacks of all sizes gather around you and your bros, and herd you into a circle around the fire.

            “To show our gratitude for the new life you’ve helped bring into our forest,” a massive white-bearded old lumberjack rumbles, “ONE of you shall be chosen to receive a gift. He whom the leaf chooses. Let it fall.”

            You all stand there waiting, looking across the fire at your frat bros. Hunter’s hands massage your shoulders.

            “What’s goin’ on?” you whisper back to him.

            “Shhh… relax, buddy,” he whispers back. “Just hold still.”

            Your body clenches with tension.

            And then you see a brown maple leaf, drifting from above. The closer it gets to you, the better you see it against the deep blue night sky and the black silhouettes of enormous trees, glowing in the orange light of the bonfire you’re all encircling.

            It flits this way and that in the gentle breeze. The crickets and frogs have all gone silent. Only the hooting of the occasional owl can be heard. The leaf drifts above your heads, back and forth.

            As a whole, the lumberjacks step back away from you all, turning their backs to the fire in unison. You look around at your frat brothers.

            The leaf slaps into your chest. You touch it, hold it in your fingers.

            “He has been chosen,” the elderly lumberjack says, and he pumps a fist into the air. Simultaneously, every lumberjack in the clearing cups his hands to his mouth and emits a wordless primal roar into the sky. It sounds like a tribe going on the warpath.

            The leaf seems to jump out of your hand and lands in the fire, disappearing in the glow. You look around at the others, who are all staring at you. You give a little nervous shiver; your face tingles with the heat of the fire.

            “Dude.” The brother closest to you says only that word, and then his mouth is left just hanging open in awe.


            “It chose you?” Hunter jerks your shoulders back and looks at your face, your eyes. “YEAH! It chose you! Awesome!” he claps your shoulders and ruffles your hair and then steps away like you’re contagious. “That’s great, buddy!”

            “You didn’t see it?” you ask. “I thought you–”

            “Well we’ve got to turn away from you guys, so the leaf can choose. So no, I didn’t see.” Hunter reaches up and brushes a hand on your face. “Check you out, bud!”

            His knuckles rasp against thick stubble. Your eyes widen and you reach up with both hands and feel a bushy beard where you’d been mostly clean minutes ago. You look down at your hands, which are noticeably bigger. Past your hands, to your feet, aching in your shoes.

            Your frat brothers are gaping at you as they all shrink in unison. Your chest and arms and legs and belly all feel like they’ve got balloons inside, being filled with thick rising dough. The fabric of your t-shirt stretches over your body as you swell in great, bursting spurts of testosterone-soaked growth.

            And yes, you too undergo the odd transformation of your clothing into woolly flannel and soft, warm, comfortable denim. Even your shrinking shoes turn into tough work boots that fit your growing feet perfectly.

            You flex your arms and back as you bulge outwards and upwards like a monster in a B-movie. “Holy fucking SHIT,” you growl. Your voice deepens as you speak. Your pants are still getting tighter around you and a slick drooling glob of precum coats the insides of your boxers as they turn into long john underwear.

            Your hands are fucking huge. HUGE. Your arms are getting massive. You look down at your bulging pectorals and watch a bushy crop of chest hair explode into being. You grunt and chuckle and look left and right at your biceps pumping under red flannel, just like Hunter’s.

            You’re seeing the world in a new light. The trees all have a certain beauty to them that you didn’t notice before. They glow and vibrate with life and loveliness. The maple syrup smell now has nuances you wouldn’t have picked up on, and you fancy you can almost tell which is the most finely aged and which is from freshest youngest trees, like a wine connoisseur.

            Each of your frat members now has a certain glow about him, too.

            Ooo, they’re all so TINY…

            Yes, a glow, or perhaps an ‘aura,’ like… you’ve detected that each one might be a good place to stash a baby. Your boner is thrusting very uncomfortably against your pants and you want to let it OUT.

            Your bros. So small! All of them! And you feel so wonderfully BIG. Being big is the best. You wish you’d always been this big. You take a few steps around and you think you can actually feel the ground quiver under your feet.

            I’m. So. BIG.Ohhh yes. Yes you are. You look down your arms, where they bulge out of your rolled-up flannel sleeves like mighty trees forcing their way out of the earth.

Ahh, what a wasted life, spent being so small all the time.

            And what… oo, what nice-looking little frat bros.

            Maybe… you could fuck one of them.

            Maybe I SHOULD fuck one of them.

            Jason looks plenty fertile, what if you spread him open like the slut he is and pumped him full of seed?

            Brad, what about Brad grunting and groaning and his rock-hard muscular belly swelling like a balloon with your babies?

            Or maybe if you wrapped your brawny new arms around happy, skinny little Shane and turned him into a ball full of baby…

            Ooohh, what if Nate, with his cute barely-noticeable junior-year beer gut, what if you reached out, grabbed Nate and dropped him on your wang like a ring toss and made him fat with FETUS…

Your frat bros quail as your horny gaze lingers on each one of them. It’s like they know. It’s like they expect it from you. One of them even kinda smiles, like… like he’d gladly let you. You don’t even really recognize who it is, you’re too horny to focus on identification. You need to BREED someone…

You wonder about the origins of the word “wood” as sexual slang. Certainly it had to have been coined by these lumberjacks in ages past. Your boner feels like a mighty redwood…

            “A tree,” one lumberjack says quietly to your right.

            “Yes, a tree. He’ll need to fell a tree to make the transformation complete.” The elder jack stands once more. “Draw your axe, brother.”

            “… how?” you ask in your newly deepened voice.

            Hunter speaks up behind you. “Feel for it, buddy. Find it.”

            You make a show of patting your pockets, front and back. “Uh…”

            “No, find it,” Hunter says again. He closes his eyes, then flicks his arm out to his side and there in his fingers, a gleaming axe appears, ready to be swung.

            You don’t understand. Is it a willpower thing? You can hardly think with all these muscles and this boner. You close your own eyes and think about axes for awhile. Is there perhaps, one close by, that belongs to you? A great hefty axe, with a beautiful head sharpened to perfection, and a handle made of the finest hickory…

            You don’t even know what hickory is!

            Do you?

            What’s this in your hand? AN AXE. MY AXE. You gaze at it, and you feel like you just bought a new car.

            “Now go pick a tree,” Hunter whispers in your ear.

            You can hear your frat brothers making comments about how utterly massive you’ve become. You’ve got to be in the upper ranges of six feet tall, and have gained hundreds of pounds of solid beef and bone. A tree stands before you. It looks as good as any. With a growling yell you swing your axe and cleave a deep gouge into the trunk. In your smaller state you might’ve never retrieved that axe again, but your strength is now immense, and you yank it out with ease and swing again, directly into the same crack.

            Just like when you watched your new son chop his own tree down, you blast the forest with the mighty sound of your axe slamming home. You roar in triumph after a few more swings, when you hear the wood cracking and splintering, and raise your axe as the tree toppled away from the clearing.

            The tree’s vitality fills you with joy. Your boner has not left.

            You face the group, who claps for you, and you focus on Hunter, who’s clapping the loudest and smiling the widest, and you allow yourself to smile just as wide. You walk right up to him, smirking down at his…

            His slender figure…

            Ooo he’s so tiny. He’s looking up at you. His spiky brown hair. His sweet-looking boyish face and his smooth skin and slim body…

            “… C'mere,” you rumble in your gruff, manly new voice.

            His eyes go wide and his smile falters as your gigantic hand clutches the back of his neck and pulls him close. “Uh… bud?”

            You hear a lumberjack chuckle knowingly behind you.

            “C'mere,” you say again, louder this time, and you wrap your arms around him so he can’t escape. Reflexively his hands try to come up to push away from you.

            You lift him up off the ground. You squish him against your chest, mashing his face into the hair. You love having all this chest hair. Only the manliest of men have chest hair like you.

            Hunter’s just strong enough to push away from your chest to look up at your face. “How’s it feel? You like it?”

            “… I do. I really do,” you say, and you mean it. You’re marveling, relishing in your brawny new self. You didn’t even have to work for it! Well… ok, maybe you sorta did. The memory of being pregnant still flips your gut around from time to time. You let Hunter slide down your front, and he lands squarely on your massive tent like the middle rod on a bicycle and his eyes get huge.

“Uh-oh.” His face goes very red. He stares at the lush valley between your mountainous pectorals.

            “Ohh. Yeah.” You make absolutely sure there’s no escape.

            Some of the other lumberjacks are starting to laugh with the first. Your frat bros are just staring. You’ll have to impregnate them some other time. You have other priorities right now.

            You slide Hunter close to you, his legs straddling your dick.

            He whimpers. He glances up at your face. “Uh oh.”

            “Ohhhh yeah.”

            There’s a nervous little smile forming on his lips as he looks around semi-frantically. “Uh… uh. Guys?”

            “Ooooo Hunter…” you grin down at him and your fingers wrap around his neck and lift him up and you hook one finger in his track paints and tug his waistband down with a slick motion… and you seat his bare ass carefully on your shaft.

            “Uhhhh guys??? haha…” Hunter twitches and squirms in your grip. “Guys, uhh… help?”

            He’s got that same barely-discernable glow about him that your frat brothers do, but he’s your target, not them. In the other “normal-sized” lumberjacks, you see a similar aura, fainter than the frat boys, and the big “transformed” lumberjacks—your fellow manly studs—don’t have that aura at all.

            But that’s ok. Surrounded by so many fellow creatures to breed, Hunter’s sitting on a shaft of sturdy oak. You angle it upwards and push him down slightly.

            “Guys help–! heheh… heh…” Hunter’s writhing like a stabbed snake as you begin to slide inside him. He grunts and tries to push you away, but he’s laughing the entire time. “I think, I think I’m about to get pregnant again!”

            “AGAIN,” you bellow.




No wonder this feels so right! This surprising knowledge sets you on fire and you carry him forward to a table and slam him down on top of it. The other lumberjacks are roaring with laughter now.

            “Such a little slut Hunter!” one of them chortles, an incredibly full-bodied and hirsute blond.

            Hunter’s voice pitches up and down as you start railing him. “Youuoo SHUT your FAT BASTARD mouuthhh aaahhhh-hahaaaa…”

            You peel his shirt up to his neck. You don’t even remember getting your own clothes out of the way. Your smile is utterly wicked. “I’m going to watch… you… bloat up…”

            Your hips rock him like a boat. Cups and plates and utensils get knocked about by his flailing limbs. You grab his smooth arms and pin them to his sides and watch his giddy face blushing bloodred. Turning the tables on him must absolutely be the right thing to do. None of the other lumberjacks try to stop you. Vaguely, you wonder if any of them were like you, once. Coerced into pregnancy by Hunter or another jack, and then “chosen” by the leaf, and then…

            “Oooooo Hunter… ‘little buddy,’ heheh… do you have any idea… how pregnant. I’m about to make you.” It seems only fitting to throw his own words back at him.

            “Ooohhh nooo guys heeeelp meee!” he yelps. Everything he says mingles with his hysterical laughter. It doesn’t seem like he minds what you’re doing to him. Maybe he feels like he deserves it.

            You begin to gush, like a firehose, deep into his belly. The mental image of artillery being fired floats just behind your eyes. Hunter’s eyes cross and his cheeks puff out like he’s being inflated. And he is, of course, and true to your word, you make sure his shirt doesn’t get in the way of the sight of his sleek, lithe body becoming firm and round and filled with hot cum. The delicate lines of his skinny-boy abs quickly fade away into his soft skin. His smooth little belly bulges out and up and forces its way out from under his ribcage. His own cum splashes against your navel.

            “Heh. Little. Buddy.” You rub Hunter’s belly as it bloats bigger and bigger with each pulse of your manly seed.

            “HhHaaahaaa…ha… aaahhhhh…” Hunter slowly melts underneath you into a contented puddle, letting out a few whines and moans as his body continues to fill with cum. When you finally pull out, he looks full-term. His bellybutton is tight and ready to pop up.

            “Look, Hunter,” you rumble in his ear. “Look how pregnant I’ve made you.”

            “Ohhhh……. very pregnant,” he groans with a delirious smile, his hands slowly clutching at his distended figure. “Ohhh nooo… SO pregnant…”

            “HUNTER YOU ARE A FUCKING SLUT,” another lumberjack roars at him, and that sets the entire crowd ablaze with more tree-shaking laughter.

            “HEY!” Hunter calls back when he finds his voice. “I still made… a bigger kid… than YOU did…”

            You pull out quickly and Hunter spasms from the sensation, white cream bursting from his rear end and pooling under him. He wriggles on the table under the weight of his engorged gut. He manages to prop himself up on his elbows.

            You smile smugly at him. He gazes up at you in awe.

            You quickly swivel your head towards your frat brothers, who jump back in fear and you start laughing just as loud as the other jacks.

            “Relax, guys,” you say. Though you do get a mental image of them all writhing on their backs with bulging baby bumps burgeoning with your batter… “There will be… heh… PLENTY of time… for me to breed you all, back at the frathouse.”

            You grin down at Hunter once more. “I think. Little buddy. Heh. LITTLE.” You scoop him up and give him one of his own body-squishing bear-hugs. His legs kick and he grunts and you hear a wet splattering on the ground as you squeeze him. “I think we’re going back to your place.”

            “Ohhhhh nooo…” he squirms playfully.

            “Ohhh yeah.” You pat his belly as you start to lumber off in the direction of his cabin with the cheers and wolf-whistles of the crowd of jacks behind you. “Cuz. You’re not pregnant yet,” you murmur in his ear.

            “Uh yes, yes I am!”

            “No you’re not.” You pat his inflated belly again. “Needs more cum.”

            “Oooo no I can’t fit more cum, buddy!”

            “Yes you can. Little. BUDDY.”

            He’s not about to pull that shit on you—your flannel-clad alter-ego may have just been born minutes ago, but your instincts know better. Hunter himself told you that it takes a lot of cum to impregnate another lumberjack and your loins are already brewing up another batch in preparation for attempt number two. You effortlessly transport him over branches and mossy rocks and through the dark woods, remembering without issue where his cabin is, and it seems so much smaller than you remember! and you carry him inside and bend him over the bed. Watching his ropy body round out with thick cum has awakened a beast in you and you can tell he’s not yet pregnant and that’s a PROBLEM.

            A problem you intend to fix.

            Hunter looks back at you piteously. “Take it easy there buddy!”

            “Don’t worry. Lil buddy.” You chuckle in your throat, in your gut. “I’m going to put. The biggest baby in you.” You thrust inside him and his fists pound the bed and his fingers dig into the sheets. “That this forest has ever seen.”

            And you do. You fuck a gigantic baby into him. You hump him until he passes out and lays there limp and wrecked, until you have nothing left inside you, until his belly is so fat and heavy with cum that it’s lifted him off the bed. When you finally finish up and pull out and turn him over, his glazed eyes stare at you blankly and he belches and you see a bubble of white form on his lips and pop with his burp.

            You feel yourself beginning to shrink and revert to your original self. It doesn’t hurt or ache, it just feels like letting out a deep breath, really. You lean in and kiss his reddened, engorged navel. “Attaboy. So nice and pregnant.” He’s getting firmer, his skin tighter, his spherical cum-gut solidifying into a taut globe cradling your new baby…

            Hunter tries to smirk at you, that fucking infuriating smug little SMIRK like he knew all along. He only succeeds in burping again and letting out a white trail of drool, which trickles down his cheek onto the bed.

            So… you smirk for him.

AN: haha ok so I’ll admit this one’s a little more indulgent of some other kinks of mine besides pregnancy but it’s still a major topic and there IS actual mpreg right there at the end so I hope this doesn’t violate the “stories must focus on pregnancy” rule… but if it does and the mods decide not to post it, I’ll understand. It’s probably time I delivered something else besides lumberjacks anyway, don’t want anyone to get sick of me now 8-) hope you all enjoyed…… 

mino; in every lifetime

Originally posted by choiseunghyunn

Based on a prompt for a Soulmate! AU: The last words you’ll ever hear them say are written on your skin, meaning that you’ll never know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

Sidenote: Angst, scenario of 3.2k words. 

They weren’t childhood friends, high school sweethearts or anything like that.   

“I wish I met you sooner.” he’d say, prompting a walk down memory lane of the first time they met –her favourite story out of the infinite they shared.

It was the July that fell on her last semester of college, a night that was never supposed to be but of thesis revisions and brain wrecking flash cards for finals that were just around the corner.  

“Oh have a bit of fun!” her friends disapproving her safe choice of plans, practically dragging her out through the dorm’s hallways in a midst of hushed giggles and careful footsteps.

She liked to think that she was socially acceptable for pretentious-frat-boy hosted parties and they weren’t all that bad if she managed to keep up with her group of friends, with the aid of a cup of cheap beer, or two. However, it wasn’t what she had in mind when they pulled over a beach house, already crowded by muddy four wheelers and huge SUVs parked by the vast perimeter of the property.

Her curiosity, spluttered out as a series of worried questions were dodged away by, “He’s our senior, remember? Of course you don’t. We’re all invited, now stop worrying will you please.”

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anonymous asked:

Was I'd rather have you cursed or not also in a barn? Or a barn like structure?

YES IT WAS. It was in the barn where Dean had stashed Baby for most of s7 since the Leviathans were using her against them after 7.06. Cas booped them to the barn to fetch her when it was time to storm the Death Star and take down Dick. :D

So many good barn moments for these two dopes. :)

serenousphantasm  asked:

Because Hawoo is a good big brother I am giving you the two special cans of Saba. Does the other lil darlings want something too?

You can’t see it but, Hawoo is smiling on the inside being given two special cans of saba. If you look closer, you can actually see his eyes twinkling! He nods a couple of times at you as a thank you and pitter patters his way to go find Makoto–he needs help opening the cans! ♡

Meanwhile, Nagisha requests chocolate to which Rinrin says no.

“Nagisha–Makootoh said no choocohlate!” Rinrin scolds. Nagisha frowns at this but then smiles and asks for a strawberry ice pop instead.

“Rinrin too!” Rinrin exclaims. That sounded delicious! He knows for sure Makootoh won’t mind if they had an ice pop instead~!


Will we ever be over the fact that this was only their second coffee date (in under a week? - excluding the breakfast), and Stef had oh so subtly, yet not so subtly, asked Rash to move in with him? Will we ever be over the fact that their smiles and gazes weighed with meaning throughout this conversation?…… So in love it HURTS.

This was never about finding a place to stay. This was them finding HOME.

Fic: Storage War

Based on a prompt by @kat-har. Archive post will follow shortly!

“You really don’t have to do this,” Phil said, hovering in the doorway.

“It’s really fine, babe,” Clint said, pulling out another box and coughing at the cloud of dust that billowed off it.

“I promise I didn’t ask you here intending to pawn off all the work. Maybe you could take a break until I—”

“Phil. It’s fine. It might just as well have been me getting called in.” Clint smiled at him, hoping it was reassuring. “I came to help, I’m gonna help.” He waved a hand at the storage unit, piled high with the detritus of Phil’s childhood and teenage years. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about just throwing it all in a U-Haul and driving it to New York—”

“Ugh,” Phil said. “No. We’d end up storing it for another decade before we found the time to deal with it.”

“Then let me help you,” Clint said. Reaching out, he snagged Phil’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, scraped a little from where he’d barked his hand on the wall trying to get the rusted padlock open. “That’s what marriage is all about, right? For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, for clearing out thirty-year-old storage units…”

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Big Baby(BTS React)

//how will BTS react to you finding that secret stash of baby pictures?//

~here you go, Abby, my purple unicorn, enjoy~//

Jin- when Jin comes home early and catches you red handed with that secret box of pictures his mom had given him when he moved out, he’d be calm, but surprised at the same time.  

“Yah! Jagi! How did you find that?” 

Originally posted by koweans

Suga- Yoongi I don’t think would have a reaction, he’d be a little pissed as to how you found that box, but would probably just brush you off, more pressing matters, like sleep, first on his mind. 

Originally posted by saence

J-Hope- Mr. Reaction King here would freak the fuck out, running over and completely going nuts when he saw you had his baby picture. The one of him naked in the bathtub with shampoo in his eyes, the ugliest expression ever. 


Originally posted by heatherxseong

Rap Monster- “Um, what are you doing?” He’d narrow his eyes as you hurried to cover up what you were looking at. “You found them, didn’t you?” He guessed. 

“You were so cute, Joonie!” You hurry to say so he didn’t get mad. 

“We’re going to have to do something about you going through my things without asking, jagi…” horny namjoon is horny for punishment

Originally posted by absivthe

Jimin- Would be a cocky little shit, coming up behind you when you thought he was sleeping, scaring you half to death before snatching the picture out of your hand. 

“How do we look? We’re pretty cute right?” 

Originally posted by ineedjimin

V- You would probably be the first one he brought the box to when he discovered it again, excitedly showing you all the pictures of him being the most adorable fetus ever. 

“See how cute babies are! Let’s have one, jagi.” 

Originally posted by pinkjonginie

Jungkook- Kookie will fight a bitch. He’ll jump and wrestle you out of embarrassment when he sees you sorting through the pictures of him as a baby, horrified you’ll discover all the things his mom had put him in to be funny. 

He’d play an intense game of tug of war until the pictures either ripped or he won, in which he’d commence to burning them at the first chance he got. 

Originally posted by idkexoandbts

//I feel like this was kind of boring, but eh I hope you enjoyed as this will probably be the only thing I put up today…// 

Well That Explains That

SPN FanFic

~Sam sends Dean to the library for a book. Dean finds the book, and just maybe… a new friend.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

1,550 Words

Warnings: This is just fluff. If you do not want pointless, make the reader feel good about herself fluff, hit the road. ;)

A/N: A request from my darling @plaidstiel-wormstache, who, incidentally has one of the best handles I’ve ever seen! Hope you like it! Also, this continues my streak of horrible titles. (oops)

“Sam are you seriously telling me that we live in the middle of the world’s largest collection Supernatural knowledge and you don’t have the one book that you need? Seriously?”

Sam threw his head back and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Yes Dean, that’s what I’m telling you. Will you please just go to the library and get it? I already called and they have it waiting. Just go pick it up.”

Dean crossed his arms indignantly and pouted, “Come on Sammy, I hate the library you know that.”

Sam closed his mouth and looked up at Dean; his hazel eyes were wide and sad.

“Oh no, don’t you give me the dog eyes. Not over this. You need to save those for when you need them.” Dean shook his head, trying to ignore Sam’s classic ‘please’ face.

Sam was relentless, he added just a tiny twitch to his down-turned lips as he continued. “I need that book Dean. You want to figure out how to stop the Strigoi? Then go get the book. I can’t leave right now.”

Dean took a deep breath and firmly declined to go on the errand. “No.”

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Current stash without already opened shower gels and bubble bars in my bathroom cabinet and my facemasks and lipsticks. Promised I’m going to use the majority of this up before I get anything else so I best get taking some baths!