It is a mistake to think that your “I”, self, atman are just one thing. You have will. Will says “stay in bed”. Then you have ego. Ego says “get up or you will get fired”. They argue back and forth until finally ego amps up the anxiety level to the point where you get your a** out of bed.
There is another quieter aspect to our personal trinity. The watcher. Unlike ego and will the watcher is entirely without emotion. It is just there. It often serves as a guiding voice but in a quiet manner. It does not compel. It just says “this is what is right now”.
The watcher never argues like will and ego. It just watches.
If you have ever been in a car accident or other traumatic event you know the watcher. It was there with you. It was the one aspect of your being which did not panic or react. It just says “this is what is”.
(16-21 are on a timer, so have your answer
ready, they aren’t strictly in this order. The ones I chose earned me a pat on
the back so I’ll mark them for you with a +, but feel free to choose what you want.)
It’s difficult being independent. I wish I were
still living with my parents.
Ehh, it’s been okay, I guess.
It’s been pretty good, actually.
I’m doing my best. +
Could be better, to be honest.
Well, I, uh, feel fine?
Thank you for your condolences. +
Sorry, but I don’t want to talk about that.
Excuse me, I need to go.
Do I? Uh…
Pfft, College. I don’t need that.
It’s kind of up in the air. We’ll see.
I mostly live in the present, so it’s not much of
a concern to me.
Yes, I do. +
There’s a possibility.
I really don’t care.
It will get back on track soon.
It’s hard to say. I’m not an executive or
That depends on who runs it, I guess. +
Don’t ask me, I have no friggin’ clue
If it were up to me, I’d be more concerned with
I don’t really pay attention to it.
It’s a policy that reflects my own values,
personally I think it’s great. +
It’s a toy company. Why?
I don’t think that makes any sense.
I’m gonna leave now.
It’s a possibility. +
(Timed questions end here)
Simply nod to him.
Place your hand in his.
(Timed questions end here)
Fuck off! +
Get out of my house.
Leave them alone.
(Is on a timer)
Work on homework. (Order)
Make some coffee.
Explore the house. +
Don’t disturb them.
Simple Chicken and Rice +
Cold Cut Pizza
Find one of the incubi. (Automatic to the one you
have most points with)
Stand up and walk away. (Order)
Glare into her soul. (Chaos)(Only available if
you went into the study earlier and decided to snoop)
Get her. (Chaos)
Let them stay.
Let them go.
Oh HELL No. +
It doesn’t matter what happens to the princess. +
That’s not true. +
Steal a kiss
Barge in and set her straight.
Hold your position.
don’t care. Get out.
DOES concern me.
doesn’t like you.
(The thing I love about this game is that you don’t have to have sex to get the happy ending, this is what should be the norm)
(If you accidentally click yes then you still have a second chance)
Imagine Sam always finding little excuses to touch you throughout the day...
“‘Scuse me, Y/N,” Sam said, slipping behind you in the kitchen. His hand landed on your lower back, fingers pressing ever so gently, and you couldn’t ignore the tingles that were left in their wake when they were gone.
A few minutes later Sam passed by you again and did a double take. You felt his eyes on you and caught his gaze. He laughed a little. “You’ve got flour on your face” he said.
“Oh,” you wiped at your cheek with your hand. “Did I get it?”
Sam laughed even harder. “Nope. You just made it worse. Here,” he stepped closer to you and gently wiped at your cheek with his thumb. Butterflies grew and fluttered in your stomach as his thumb smoothed over your skin.
He withdrew, giving you a small smile, and you hoped your expression wasn’t too much like a deer in headlights.
Imagine introducing your parents to Sam and Dean over dinner, and things getting awkward fast when your Father starts asking questions about you all living together.
Author’s Note: Sam x reader! Someone sent me this idea on anon and I just thought it was too cute and funny! You’ll see what I mean towards the end. It’s some nice comical fluff to make up for all the angst I write lately. Warnings: family conflict, suggestive humor.
Honestly I felt so weird writing this because it is just way out of my normal BUT I am a requests blog and I love that you guys are always surprising me with unique ideas. I don’t plan on writing a whole lot of humor (or dirty humor) but it was a nice change <3 Hope you enjoy!
I paced back and forth by the map table, stopping periodically to check the clock with darting eyes. It was half past five. I groaned in dread and tried to stop imagining every worst case scenario possible. I must have appeared fairly stressed because a deep, soothing voice broke the silence.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s going to be fine.” I looked up from my sweaty palms at Sam, who was smiling encouragingly. He leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed, seeming almost too bulky for the button down shirt on his torso. The starch blue fabric complimented his ironed pants and shoes. His hair was combed with more care than usual. I imaged he looked similar to how he had back during his Stanford days. It wasn’t often that I got to see him so… normal looking. I grinned and blushed, using a shaky hand to push my hair back out of my face.
“Thanks, I’m just a little nervous.” Sam nodded and crossed the space between us to rub my back in small circles. He always knew the perfect way to comfort me, even after the hunts we all had nightmares about.
“Don’t be. Everything going to go great, I promise.” I tried to agree with him but my mouth way dry and my mind wandering. This night was so important to my family, and to me. Sam frowned when he realized his efforts weren’t getting through. He gazed down at my face with furrowed brows and that familiar expression of deep thought. “Unless… You’re not embarrassed by us are you?” His eyes widened a little at his own suggestion and the hand on my spine stopped moving. I shook my head and opened my mouth to protest, when someone stomping towards us caught my attention.
Dean entered the room and Sam dropped the arm that was comforting me. My mouth stayed open wide, horror sinking my heart to the floor.
“Dean!” The older Winchester’s face scrunched up in surprise at my outburst. His mouth twisted as he glanced around incredulously to look for what caused my terror. Sam sighed and massaged his temples slowly. “That’s not what you’re wearing is it?” I pointed to his worn jeans and wrinkled plaid overtop a T-shirt. His jaw was still rugged with stubble and his sandy blonde hair sticking up at odd angles. I could feel my blood pressure rising faster than the pitch of my voice.
“What? You said your parents are hunters right?” He shrugged and tugged at his collar, as if to say what he was wearing was acceptable.
“Yes, Dean, but this is supposed to be a nice dinner!” Sam nodded in support of my rant, his head gesturing towards my dress and done up hair. I had been extra careful to look my best. My parents weren’t impressed with my decision to leave the house, let alone my living with two men. I had a lot to make up for.
“I look nice!” Dean mimicked the loudness of my voice and his forehead crinkled in annoyance. He almost appeared offended, his hands smoothing down his dearly loved red flannel with care. I buried my face under my fingers in utter exasperation. The sound of the clock ticking loudly on the wall only furthered my anxiety. I heard Sam clear his throat before he stepped forward and began ushering his brother back towards his room.
“Come on Dean, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiled back to me, his lower lip pushed out a bit in that sweet way. I just hoped his charm would work as well on my crazy family as it did on me.
Dean was disgruntled and mumbling to himself as we drove to the house. I kept telling him to move faster but he was too preoccupied with tugging at the tie Sam had made him wear. The younger Winchester was sitting in the back of the Impala with me, probably since he recognized just how nervous I was. He tried to distract me with conversation and the occasional touch on my leg. I thanked him by nestling my head into his shoulder, but my mind was too busy considering the impending events of the night to be focused on his words. When we finally reached the house my heart was racing and it took Sam several tries to get my attention.
“Hey, Y/N. Come on.” He flashed me his bright teeth and extended a hand to help me out of the car. Every step we took past the well groomed lawn was not in my own strength. I was amazed that my body continued to function despite the fear constricting my chest.
“Wow, this place is pretty nice… for a hunting family I mean. You didn’t tell us you were rich.” I scowled at Dean, but didn’t bother responding. He knew as well as I did that my family was not wealthy. The white picket fence home they lived in was just a drastic change from the motels we frequented. My father’s career as a doctor kept him and my mother afloat while they continued to hunt monsters on into their later years. Mom always joked that “a good, old fashioned salt and burn” kept her young. As we walked up the porch steps and stood in front of the door I felt Sam squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. Dean itched at his combed hair and cleared his throat . If there as any hope for this night going well, I prayed it would start now. I lifted a hand to rap my fist against the door just as it creaked open, two male faces greeting us.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the prodigal daughter come back from afar.”
The shorter of my two brothers crossed his arms and smirked. His voice was tinged with sarcasm, but good intentions. The other sibling next to him seemed less amused, his eyes darting suspiciously between the two men behind me.
“David! Teddy! I gave them both tight hugs, oblivious to the way they glared at the Winchesters when I wasn’t watching.
“Dean, Sam, these are my brothers.” I did my best to encourage introductions but the two in the doorway seemed less than interested.
“We’ve heard so much about you.” Sam raised his hand to shake theirs and it hung in the air, untouched. I cringed when a dry voice from inside responded,
“Really? Because we don’t know much about you.”
“Honey, it is so nice to finally meet your hunting partners!” By the time we were all seated around the table my mother was absolutely cooing with joy. She frequently reached out to pat Dean’s arm with a matronly smile. At first he shifted uncomfortably but soon he seemed pleased with the attention from the doting woman.
The table was adorned with fine china and glassware that made even Sam stare longer than he should have. My parents never knew when to say no to an event, especially not when other hunters were involved. Their extravagant tastes often scared away any friends they made in the field. The only thing more intimidating than my Father’s pension for elegance, was his militaristic mannerisms. His face was set in stone as he examined each Winchester with cold care. The muscles in his jaw flexed with disapproval and judgement, only softening for a brief moment as I touched his calloused hand.
“Daddy, please be kind.” He gave me the warmest smile, but something in his eyes suggested he wouldn’t be able to abide by my wishes.
Only 20 minutes into dinner conversation and my Father was easing into his well-practiced interrogation tactics.
“So… You all live together?” His stern voice made Sam swallow loudly and Dean lower his face to his plate a bit further. Silence filled with glances across the table ensued, till Dean finally finished his mouthfull of brisket. My face blanched when I noticed he still had something stuck to the corner of his lip.
“Yes we do!” His eager grin was completely out of place. Sam coughed and glared before Dean added another frantic explanation. “I mean, we live in the same building. It’s a very large building. Lots of different bedrooms” My Father raised his eyebrows high, earning chuckles from my brothers on the far end of the table. Sam attempted to make up for his brother’s lack of social etiquette but it was like steering an already sinking ship.
“I’ve heard about you Sir, you were a great hunter.” I immediately lifted my napkin to my mouth, positive that had only made the atmosphere more tense. My Father set down his silverware and leaned forward.
“Were?” He repeated Sam’s words with mechanical precision. My mother rolled her eyes at the inevitable tirade.
“Once a hunter always a hunter, boy. You’ll learn that once your old enough to have any experience.” Everyone in the room blinked in awkward stillness as we stared down at out plates. Sam looked horrified by his unseen error, his eyes wide as the glass he lifted to his lips. When Dean attempted to start conversation again I was ready to run out to the Impala and hide.
“So, does hunting run in the family?” I hurriedly said ‘yes’ and tried to pass the basket of bread down to my father to get his attention before anything else went horribly wrong. My peace offering was cut short by his harsh retort.
“No. Hunting is the family.” Now even my brothers were fidgeting in their seats.
This time it was my mothers turn to smooth over the palatable tension in the air.
“What George means to say is, he and I adopted other hunters who lost their parents, like Y/N’s brothers. So in that way, our family aren’t hunters, hunters are our family.” I nodded and grinned at David and Teddy, who were gazing proudly at mom. Their addition to the household had been exactly what my parents needed when I left. It did dad a world of good to have someone else to raise up in the ways of a hunter and we loved them like our own.
"Wow, the three of you are lucky to have such amazing parents.” For the first time that night Dean spoke with unmistakable honesty. There was something very raw and genuine about the bittersweet way he looked between my mother and father. His face spoke volumes about his own desire for a family. My Father was a good judge of character who prided himself in being forthright, so Dean’s sincerity seemed to satisfy him more than any other compliment could have. Unexpectedly, he smiled at our guests, his hand reaching across Sam to squeeze mine with approval.
The longer we all sat together, the lighter the conversation became. Dean’s praise of the cooking won him several pinched cheeks from the older woman at his side, and Sam discussed legal studies with my college age siblings. I reveled in how natural it all seemed. Maybe things would work out after all.
“Daddy, can you pass the butter?” I pointed towards the metal tray and knife that were just out of my reach on the table. In a swift reaction to my question, two hands fell to grab the butter tray, bumping into one another on the way down. The mistake would have been ignored, if it weren’t for who’s hands both responded to my question. Sam and my Father slowly looked up at one another, their fingers frozen over the dish.
Time seemed to stand still as they stared in initial confusion. I could feel my heart stop when I realized what had just happened, and what it implied. Dean was the first to act, a violent cough nearly sending the food in his mouth across the white tablecloth. He attempted to cover his shocked sputter but it was too late. All hell was already breaking loose. My Father’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared in immediate fury.
“George…” My mother’s coaxing was useless as dad began to shake with rage. In the short seconds this occurred in, Sam was turning more shades of red than I’ve ever seen on one person’s skin. From the edge of his collar to his ears was splotchy with dark crimson. One of my brothers shot up from his chair, arms raised high.
“I knew it! I knew it from the moment he walked in!” Mom jumped up alongside him to restrain the hunting knife he waved enthusiastically with his words. This was it, the worse possible scenario. I watched blankly as this all happened too quickly for me to even stutter an excuse, not that there was one. How do you explain away something like Sam responding to ‘Daddy’? There was no hiding our involvement now. It was bad enough that my parents knew I lived with the Winchesters, now this? My boyfriend turned to me with apologetic terror, his expression completely unsure of how to react. All of the calm reassurances he had given me just hours before were no where to be found.
The only one not actively involved in the conflict, Dean rushed to stab at the remaining food on his plate and push it into his mouth.
“Really guys? I haven’t even finished my dinner yet…”
And to think, I was worried about him being the one to mess things up.
Sam’s Note: All religion has its beginning in shamanism. Shamans were the original doctors, storytellers and priests for mankind. Wizards in stories are modeled on the druids who were ancient Celtic shamans.They used many tricks of the trade to work their magic.
This piece is intended to give the reader a sense of what the experience would have been like for our paleolithic cave dwelling ancestors. This was their Imax 3D experience.
It is southern France, 28,000 years ago. You are a young man, just out of adolescence. You are part of a hunting and gathering clan hunting the great Auroch, mammoth and bear. Tonight is a special night. Tonight you become a warrior of the clan. You will travel to the spirit world and see the land of the gods. You will become brave this night because in seeing the spirit world you will no longer fear death. Your guide is your shaman. An old man, maybe forty. His back bent where he was kicked by an elk as a young man. No longer able to hunt he became a shaman and learned the ways of the animals, the healing herbs and the plants which give visions.
He studied with another shaman who also taught him deceit and showmanship. Shamans were also the entertainers of their world. He learned sleight of hand, how to pretend to pull sickness out of a wound by pulling a piece of liver he secreted in his hand. He learned animal calls and could growl like the bear and roar like the lion. He learned spells and incantations. Mostly, he learned how to set the stage for his performances.