khaki trench

anonymous asked:

Enough about all these, eugh, ANIMALS -- let's hear about the handsomest animal in your life! A silly story starring the LSB pretty please?

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned what my Long Suffering Boyfriend looks like.

As a new grad I moved interstate for my first job. I was living on my own, and after a few months I was pretty confident that I’d be staying there. So we organized for the LSB to come up for a romantic weekend.

It was a busy Friday and I was still at work. It was rarely not busy on a Friday and as you can imagine I was keen to get home. Dealing with severely unwell cases and owners who wanted treatment for a song is very stressful and their are always complaints about money. Complaints are stressful enough to deal with an an experienced vet, they’re worse to face as a new graduate.

So I was on edge when a nurse informed me that there was a ‘rough looking man’ wanted o see me, and he didn’t have a pet with him.

They felt like the situation looked like trouble.

Waiting for me, without a pet, was a young man in a khaki trench coat and a black beanie. His face sprouted at least a week’s worth of stubble and he carried a tattered backpack. He’d had a smoke outside and was now milling in the waiting room, making friendly nods at other clients waiting as muffled metal music escaped from his headphones.

Love of my life.

It was a long hug in that waiting room. It had been months since we’d seen each other. I know he does look like trouble, but he’s a sweetheart.

“He’s not what we were expecting for you,” the senior vet told me. Well, that’s the way these things work sometimes.

Hallelujah (Part 1) - Steve Trevor

Summary: Learning how to steal from a young age, you used this skill to help provide for your family. However, after trying to steal a watch from a certain Air Force Pilot/Spy, he comes to with a proposal.

Pairing: Steve Trevor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,080 (whoop im back in the +2k zone)

Warnings: stealing (dont steal kids), mentions of drinking

Tagging: @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape

A/N: it’s been a while, sorry guys. but we finally have an imagine other than marvel! this is gonna be a mini series, im thinking like three parts. i’ll try to have this series finished before school. remember y’all that imagines are open and so is tagging if you wanna be on the tag list!

Originally posted by spidersparkcr

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord.

But you don’t really care for music, do you?

Well, it goes like this; the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, and the major lift.

The baffled king composing: Hallelujah.


You didn’t care how dangerous your job was, it was important. Not many people, let alone women, would grow up to become a spy.

However, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), are different from other women.

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Of Use to You

“What the hell were you thinking, man!?”  Dean bellows, fist knotted firmly in the lapel of his trench.  “Disappearin’ off for three weeks, no phone calls, no texts, no nothing?  Again!?  Dammit, Cas, we already covered why you can’t do that!” 

Cas swallows, looking sheepishly down at his dress shoes.  He wishes he could make Dean understand the existential guilt he feels for not being good enough, for failing so often and causing so much trouble.  He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“I only wanted to help, Dean,” he argues softly.  “I wish to be of service to you, to the greater good, and the best way I know how is sometimes in Heaven.”

“Oh, so you want to help?”  Dean inquires, nodding sarcastically.  “Is that it, Cas?  Really?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas whispers.  He feels childish for feeling so close to tears.

Dean lets out an exasperate huff, releasing the lapel of his coat.  “Well, that’s just peachy, Cas.  ‘Cause from where I stand, you’re so desperate to get away from us that you’re willing to run back into your dick family’s open arms just to get there.” 

Cas stares at him incredulously, eyes wide.  “No, Dean!  That isn’t true.  I swear with every fiber of my being, on the name of my Heavenly Father, that I only want to be here with you.”

“So who the hell’s stoppin’ ya?”  Dean scoffs, arms folded dubiously.

I am!”  Cas cries, feeling frustrated to the point of tears that he can’t make Dean understand.  “I…I fail so much, Dean, at everything I do!  So often, you and Sam are forced to come to my aid.  I can’t be a burden to you, Dean!

Cas feels tears prick the corner of his eyes as he concludes his little tirade. Now it’s Dean’s turn to stare at him incredulously.

“The hell you talkin’ about, man?” he huffs, the hostility dropping slightly from his tone.  “Nobody’s a burden here.  You’re family.  Haven’t I told you that already?”

“So you say,” Cas sighs, fiddling with his cufflink.  “But you and Sam are so…useful.  You’ve saved the world on numerous occasions, and are of service to it with each passing day.  I…I can’t allow myself to be in the presence of two such heroic individuals without being useful to them.”

Cas expects Dean to make some other argument, to shout or contradict him.  Instead, he feels a gentle arm on his shoulder, guiding him to sit down next to him on the bed. 

“Look, buddy,” Dean sighs.  All hostility is gone now, and Cas hopes that means he understands.  “I know what you’re feelin’ right now, I swear I do.  But you gotta understand, Cas, you’re not a burden.  Not to me, or Sam, or anybody.”

“But-” Cas starts to protest, but Dean’s index finger pressed to his lips silences him.  

You pulled me out of Hell, Cas,” Dean says emphatically.  “And I don’t care if you only did it ‘cause God told you to:  you saved me, and I owe you everything.  Everyone I’ve saved since then would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for you.”  There’s a pause.  “You tried to do the same for Sammy, too, if memory serves.” 

“Well, I did a pretty piss poor job of it,” Cas points out.

“Yeah, but you tried:  he was in the Cage, man.  With Lucifer.  All the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t of touched that thing with a ten foot pole, but you still went down there and you tried to get my little brother out for me.  That means something, even if I couldn’t see it back then.”

Cas says nothing this time, so Dean continues, “And you’ve saved the world too, you know.”

“I helped,” Cas corrects.  “Yelled profanities at an archangel before setting him on fire.  It’s hardly comparable to what you and Sam did.”

“You sacrificed your life, like, three times over, but that ain’t the point:  Raphael was gonna re-open the Cage if he ran the show.  I didn’t take it too seriously then, but I should of.  Point is, you stopped him, Cas.  All on your own.”  A million arguments about Sam’s wall and the Leviathan jump to Cas’s mind, but Dean interrupts preemptively, “And yeah, I don’t feel all too good about the stuff you did to get there, but…at the end of the day, Cas, it needed to be done.  You…”  He shrugs his shoulders.  “…You saved the world.”

Cas stares down at his lap, expression unreadable.  Dean pivots his legs to face him fully. 

“Point is, Cas, you’ve already done more for us and the world than anyone could ask for.  Yeah, a lot of the time it blows up in your face, but that’s just the consequences of playin’ big:  hell, Babe Ruth struck out more than any player in major league baseball.” 

Cas looks up, brow pursed in confusion.  “Why was an infant playing major league baseball, Dean?”

Dean ignores the question, not wanting to get sidetracked from the matter at hand.  “And even if you weren’t, do you really think I’d care?  I don’t want you to be useful, Cas.  I don’t want your accomplishments.  I’m not your dickhead family.  I just want you, here, with me.  That’s all.” 

Dean’s sure this will get through to him, and feels hopeful when Cas appears to pontificate on it.

“You didn’t want me when I was human.” 

Dean blinks, taken aback by the statement, and Cas continues, “And moreover, in your own words, without my powers I am a ‘baby in a trench coat.’”  He encapsulates the phrase with air-quotes, but even that doesn’t detract from the sting of what he’s saying.  “I mean no offense, Dean, but all signs point to the fact that you don’t want me here unless I can be of use to you.” 

Dean gapes for a moment or two, jaw flapping silently open and closed like a fish.  “Cas, that’s not true,” he manages finally.  “I was a dick when you were a human, okay?  I made a lot of mistakes and I wasn’t all that considerate of your feelings, but I never didn’t want you.  I wanted you when I told you to go, I wanted you when I found you at the Gas-n-Sip, and I especially wanted you when I had to watch you leave again.  I just blew my chance, is all.”

Cas looks only moderately convinced, but Dean goes on, “And the same goes for the things I said to you about you not having powers.  If I was dick to you about being out of juice, it was because I was being just that:  a dick.  And I’ve always wanted you, Cas, as long as I can remember.  I swear I did.”  

Cas still says nothing, but his posture softens slightly.  Dean breaths a quiet sigh of relief when Cas’s hand finds his, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says softly.

“Don’t mention it.”  There’s a brief pause before Dean clears his throat, and adds somewhat awkwardly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There’s a long moment of quiet before Dean recollects himself, remembering why he was “angry” to begin with. 

In a sudden burst of passion, he reaches up and grabs Cas by the tie, pulling him in for a rough, aggressive kiss that makes him blink in (not unpleasant) surprise.  

“I’m still pissed with you, you know,”  he growls, breath hot against his angel’s lips as he aggressively undoes his tie.  “You left -”  He yanks his khaki trench coat off of his shoulders.  “-for three full weeks, without so much as a peep.  And by morning, your ass is gonna regret it.”  

Cas has no idea what to make of this as Dean goes for his buttons, pausing briefly to look him in the eye.  “Safeword?” 

“G-garrison,” Cas manages, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Good.  Mine’s Impala.  Tonight, for a change, I’m gonna be the one on top.”  

I’ve been thinking a lot queerbaiting on Supergirl…

Because I saw a post that goes really into it. And the thread talks how they don’t think the CW/the writers are queer baiting on purpose but that Kara and Lena/Melissa and Katie just have really great chemistry.

And I don’t disagree with this, to an exstent, but I think that once the writers/CW caught on to them chemistry, that they started doing things on purpose. Case in point: all the cenimatic parallels between SuperCorp and Clois.

However, I do genuinely think that the wardrobe/costume department does know what’s up. They regularly dress Kara and Lena in blue and red when they’re playing opposite one another and other matching outfits. Also the khaki trench coat, you know the one that they take turns wearing. And most recently the NCU sweatshirt. I know some people want to jump on the sweatshirt belonging to Sam, but consider this: Sam and Ruby just moved to National City and it’s far more likely that Lena and Sam met either at MIT or in Metropolis, so chances are very slim that the sweatshirt belongs to Sam. Therefore it is much more likely that sweatshirt belongs/belonged to Kara who we know from her resume for Cat Grant, went to National City University.

My Guardian (Part 6)

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1465

Warnings: swearing, mention of blood, kissing, angst, mild violence.

My Guardian Master List

(Not my GIF)

Cas’s cobalt gaze darkened at your words. “No!” he shouted as he struggled against the charmed ropes. His arms were bruised and bloody. “Y/N, please,” the angel begged.

You fell to your knees. “If Cas and the Winchesters go free, and you vow to never touch them again, you may have my soul. Not in 10 years… now.” Tears streamed down your face. There was no way you were going to let the son of a bitch take your family away.

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Soundtrack of Us (Part Three) - You Get What You Give/The Flashback

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Word Count: 2600+ words

Pairing: AU!Dean x musician!reader 

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Ellen & Jo Harvelle, Castiel Russell (OC), Dan (OC)

Warnings: Character Death (not main), marijuana and alcohol abuse, angst, little snarky reader and Dean, kinda fluff, more angst

Summary: Y/N is a local artist with standing gigs at a coffee shop and a bar in a small town in North Carolina. She’s run from some things at home, but life has finally fallen into place in Asheville. Music is her life and her only worry in life, until she meets a pair of hypnotizing green eyes.

Author’s Note: Bare with me, y’all. This one is kind of a rollercoaster. What happened with Russell? Do Dean and reader get a chance??? You’re about to find out guys. 

Flashback italicized, song lyrics bold and italicized.
Song used: You Get What You Give - New Radicals (I like the cover by the Maine as well!)


“Thanks for hanging out, guys,” you spoke into the microphone at the end of your set, “have a good night and drink safe.”

You scurried off your stage and hid yourself in the thick of the crowd. You didn’t want to talk to Dean. Not here, not now. You made a lot of tip, you loved the drunk money-blowers who would accidentally drop twenties instead of ones. You deserved some shots, you thought.

You spotted Jo and made your way to her with lemon drop shots in hand and balancing a beer between your chest and your forearm. When you spotted her, she was listening intently to the voice of a clean cut brunette. He had beautiful blue pools in his eyes and scruff that could have only been a few days old. He wore a khaki trench coat which made you cock an eyebrow, but his looks were more than enough to let it slide. Jo was mesmerized by the man. You knew this because this conversation was different; she was always the one who did the talking, never the listening. She glanced past the man and looked at you, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. That was your sign to keep distance, she was working him up to take her home. Go, Jo. Two shots for you. Go, you.

You aimlessly walked around the bar with the stout that Sam served you. It was getting warm and unbearable to drink, but you needed a buzz through all the small talk and compliments on your singing that the bar goers threw your way. You especially needed the buzz when you saw a pair of bow legged jeans make their way towards you.

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Sunset Proposal - Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Requests: 

Hi! I was the anon who sent you the suggestion for “Cosy Anniversary”. I LOVED IT a lot! The twist you added with the reader having powers was wonderful as well! That ending was real cute! Now I want to see the reader propose to Wanda, with both Pietro and her father’s help! Maybe someday we’ll get a sequel to it! Haha! Anyway, thank you so much for writing it! You’re a fantastic writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!!! ^_^

You should make a part 2 of Cosy anniversary where the reader proposes to Wanda and if you could set a wedding scene at the end. I love your Wanda x reader stories!❤

A/n: I hope this was okay and wasn’t too long or anything :)

You chewed your lip as you stared at the puppy calendar in front of you, the desire to rip it from the wall and scream shot through you. You were scared. Terrified in fact, luckily people couldn’t read your emotions, not even Wanda’s, you could read everyone else’s through. Pietro frowned as she watched you put down the empty china mug of tea. “You said you’d help me if I told you what I was planning right?” You asked hesitatingly. Pietro nodded then realised you had your back to him. “Of course but what is your plan?” Pietro questioned before Tony walked into the room. 

“Yeah when are you going to ask her?” He questioned causing you to tense. “Her birthday…” You replied causing Pietro to nod and Tony to look confused. “When is her birthday?” he asked causing you and Pietro to give him ‘are you serious’ looks. “Wait is it on the… oh wait its written on the calendar!” Tony squealed causing you to roll your eyes.

“So what are we going to do?” Pietro questioned before the three of you engaged in the planning of the proposal. 

Meanwhile Wanda, Natasha Maria and Pepper were watching romantic comedy movies in the lounge. “Do you think you’d marry Y/n one day Wanda?” Pepper questioned. “Would you marry Tony?” Maria retorted, sipping her red wine.

“Where are those three anyway? FRIDAY where are Tony, Y/n and Pietro?” Natasha questioned. “The three are working on a project in the lab….looking at brain patterns… Mr Maximoff is attempting to make Y/n laugh to mess up the scans.” FRIDAY fibbed although Wanda, Natasha, Pepper and Maria were unaware of this.

“So do you want me to rent out the entire park or?” Tony questioned. Pietro frowned. “No no no it vould be too obvious, so you go out to dinner then after to the park and bam, under the gazebo?” Pietro questioned causing you to nod in response. “You already got it though haven’t you?” Tony asked in response. You nodded. “Yeah I brought it a while back…damn I never got to give her the necklace on our anniversary…” You realised.

“Give her that as a decoy then propose?” Tony suggested causing you and Pietro to grin evilly.

Wanda’s Birthday: (A/n:I don’t know when it actually is? Anyone know?)

You smiled as the day went smoothly, nobody suspected a thing, shockingly not even Natasha (or she’s just hiding that she knows, who knows, she’s a spy…). You closed your eyes as you focused on everyone’s emotions, everyone was orange, they were all happy and energetic. Wanda smiled as she walked over to you, wearing the necklace you’d brought her as the two of you were about to leave for dinner. 

Tony grinned and nodded at you, drowning more whiskey whilst Pietro smirked, he was going to be recording and photographing the entire thing. 

Wanda had chosen to go to a Sokovian style restaurant which had branched out from after Sokovia was destroyed. Sokovian music filled the air as the two of you dined, you grew nervous. Wanda raised an eyebrow at you as you twirled your fork in your fingers. You smiled in response, feeling the calm emotions from the surrounding people.

“How about a nice walk in the park? We could watch the sunset under the gazebo?” You suggested as the two of you walked down the street holding hands. Wanda grinned and nodded, kissing your cheek in response. You linked your fingers with hers as the two of you strolled into the park, arriving at the gazebo as orange, red, purple and yellow flooded the once blue sky.

Wanda smiled as she stepped up onto the gazebo, you behind her as she watched the sunset. Your fingers latched around the ring box in the pocket of your khaki trench coat.

“Wanda, love, there’s something I need to say…” You almost whimpered causing Wanda to turn and look at you. “Ever since I first met you, you made my life so much brighter, I wasn’t just Tony Stark’s daughter… I felt like I belonged, you changed my life and each day it just keeps changing for the better, you are the light of my life and I was wondering if you’d do me the honour of becoming my wife?” You questioned, dropping to one knee in front of her.

Wanda’s hands automatically flew to her mouth in shock, Pietro smirked as he took photo after photo, as well as filming the whole thing. Tears trickled at the corners of Wanda’s eyes as she nodded frantically. Her voice cracked as she exclaimed “Yes, yes, of course prinţesă!” You grinned, tears almost falling as you slipped the ring onto her finger. Pietro grinned, he definitely approved of you.

Flash Forward

You chewed your lip nervously as you played with part of your dress/tuxedo. Pietro was going to be walking Wanda down the aisle whilst Tony was going to walk you down. “My father isn’t drunk yet is he?” You questioned Pepper who shrugged. “I’ve got Steve and Bruce on Tony Watch….” Pepper explained.

“If he’s drunk he’s sitting out, you know how he is when he’s drunk.” You complaining, flinching at the memories. “Y/n he’s not going to miss his only child’s wedding… even if he was drunk he’d sober up in an instant with enough glares from us all…” Pepper explained.

Natasha peered her head through the door, causing you and Pepper to turn around. “Its time, Pietro finally got Wanda to calm down… you don’t look nervous…how don’t you look nervous?” Natasha questioned. You grinned in response. “I manipulate and sense emotions, I’m using everyone else’s chilled vibes to calm myself down…” You explained before Pepper and Natasha guided you to Tony.

“Ready kid?” Tony questioned, tugging at his shirt cuffs. You glanced at him before taking a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be…” you replied as the doors opened and music began to play. You smirked as you sensed Wanda and Pietro approaching, you were first down the aisle and would be waiting there for them both. “As I’ll ever be…” 

Tagged: @marvel-wlw

12x22 and 23 thoughts

Okay from the new teaser (shaving people punting things “Two in One”) I feel like we’ve learned a few things, this got really long so more under the cut (speculation in italics): 

1.  They use a spell to try to get out of the bunker. After trying and failing to brute force their way out of the bunker’s concrete garage with a shovel. And some form of alcohol. Also, some right handed person (based on their watch) cuts their hand, which we all know is code for spell or sigil. Maybe for the get-out-of-the-bunker spell?

2. Toni is handcuffed and monitoring Dean’s brain for some reason.

3. There’s a house in a very desaturated color graded environment where a bunch of stuff goes down. We see an inside shot of the stairs (presumably of the same house), where there’s an old picture of a married couple on the wall. I think it’s the same house where we the first crib, based on the colors and the old tech in the room. Kelly is in full pre-baby mode, presumably staying in this old off the grid house, and Cas watches her (based on a vague silhouette) painting the baby’s (seemingly named “Jack” by what the wall says, did we already know that and I forgot?) room. Cas raises a finger to someone while outside the house too. Of course there’s the “Cas’s hand touching Dean’s head and glowing” snipit people are screaming about. This looks like it is in Kelly’s place at night, Sam is also there. There’s a bunch of other Kelly shots at night while she’s in a nightgown, but they don’t tell us much other than she’s very pregnant.

4. Cas standing at the edge of a lake in a mountainous region (looks like the same area-ish Lucifer is at at the end of 12x21). Probably near where the house is. (Reminds me vaguely of 6x20 when Cas talks about the ocean and his earliest memories).

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This Old Town

Word Count: 880

Warnings: kind of angsty?, smut (in flashbacks)

A/N: This was an Anon Request from a while back (I’m sooo sorry this took so long). Hope it’s okay. I didn’t quite know which angle to take on this, so I just went for it. Oh, and sorry this is kind of on the short side.

Request: “Could you write a Cas x reader based off of the song Heat Of The Moment by Asia”

Your hands gripped the wheel as a thousand different emotions rushed through you. The memories, both good and bad, flashed before your eyes as you struggled to focus on the road in front of you.

Welcome to Lebanon, Kansas

The sign flashed by you as you entered the city limits, the city you swore you’d never return to. But, there you were, running to the Winchester’s aid again. It wasn’t that the boys had done anything wrong. They weren’t the reason you left. You still kept in touch occasionally, comparing notes and hunts. But, you were usually calling from the other side of the country, alone.

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4
Words: 9,542
Dean x Reader
Warnings: some mildly graphic descriptions, some violence, language, suspense and intense situations
A/N: THANKS FOR ALL BEING SO PATIENT WAITING FOR THIS! I hope you like it. This is the final part of the Into the Woods series. Read Part 1 and Part 2 first!

Your name: submit What is this?


That was unexpected. Sam hung up and simply sat in strained silence for a moment. He rubbed his hands over his face and heaved a heavy sigh. It didn’t make him feel better. Seeing Dean’s number pop up on his phone had jolted him enough, but the news that some innocent bystanders had gotten sucked into the situation had him worried.

Dean would be alright; he was sure of that. But Sam was really hoping you would heed his advice and stay put until he arrived. Otherwise, you could be walking into something far more dangerous than you knew.

Sam slammed the book in front of him shut. It had been another dead end, but he refused to give up. Scouring the lore for solutions would have to wait, however, until he had sorted out this mess with the Wendigo.

He grabbed the bag he had packed as soon as Dean had gone off; it was always sitting ready by the door. A few minutes later and he was on the road, repeating a silent prayer over and over as the tires ground down the gravel and then leapt over the asphalt as he reached the major highway.

It was half a day, long after Sam had given up on the silent mantra, before there was a fluttering sound and suddenly the empty passenger seat was occupied.

Sam jumped and then let out a sigh that was halfway between relief and annoyance. “Cas,” he said in surprise. “I gave up on you about 700 miles ago.”

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Believer

Title: Believer

Pairing: None really

Word Count: 2,029

Theme Songs: Be Here Now by Ray LaMontagne

**Imagine the reader, a believer in angels, still being shocked when she meets Cas face-to-face**

Your name: submit What is this?

—————————————

Checking your reflection in your rear view mirror you gave a sigh at your tired eyes. It had been another long shift at work, having started with the early shift and made longer when you’d volunteered to stay a few hours over to cover a co-worker who had to go pick up their sick kid from school. But the day was over; you had the next two days off and you had some big plans for your forty-eight hour reverie. 

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Coming Up For Air - Part 1

Request: Can you make a story where the reader is a person that got pulled out of hell by Castiel and Cas has to “purify ” the reader. And they get a thing for each other and all that fuzzy stuffz

Words: 1533

Author’s Note:  It took me a bit to wrap my head around the story line on this one but I think I’ve got it now :) You’ll have to excuse me since this is my fist Cas fic and I haven’t written him very much.  Let me know if you think it should be different or if I have the characterization wrong!

  Thick black chains wrapped around my arms, heating up slowly as they pulled me in opposite directions.  They began to glow. First a subtle red hue, then a bright and molten crimson that seemed to sear itself into my eyes just as it did my skin.  I screamed out in pain, but no sounds came out.  There were large hooks embedded in my ribs, gnawing deeper into my flesh with each movement and each breath.  

  The chains around my arms wound the way down until they met my shoulders.  Then, snaking their way down my back, they wove together, scorching my skin as they did.  I felt myself melting.  The heat. The anguish. The torment.  And yet, no sounds escaped my lips.  The tears I was desperate to unleash never fell from my eyes.  The sweat that I knew should be beading at my brow was absent.

  Suddenly, my eyes jolted open.  A warm hand gently grasped my shoulder, and I shrieked. The contact didn’t seem to burn as I expected it to.  My skin wasn’t melting.  But my breath was ragged and I could feel my chest heaving as I brought my hands to my sides.  I found no hooks. No chains, no burning hell fire.  Just skin.  And sweat. And a crumpled up blanket at my feet.

  “Y/N,” a deep voice said.  Another hand grasped my shoulder and the two brought me to face him.  The owner of the dulcet tones.  “Y/N, you’re having a nightmare again,” he said with an air of disappointment.  Or was it concern?  I slowly began to nod my head as my eyes focused and his steely blue eyes rekindled my memory.

  “Castiel,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse. The angel’s short black hair was tousled and his khaki trench coat was laying crumpled on the floor.   The stiff but recognizable bed beneath me gave just a little as I set my hands down on it and pushed myself to the edge.  Swinging my legs over and facing the angel, I buried my head in my hands.  I felt the sweat dripping from my forehead and wiped it away with the back of my hands.

  “It was so real, Cas,” I confessed. “When are they going to stop?” I pleaded with him, wrapping my fingers around my arms, still convinced I’d find the chains there. I looked up at Castiel’s face, his eyes were squinted and his lips were tightly closed.  

  The tears that I’d been so desperate to shed just moments ago now fell down my cheeks unhindered.  I watched Castiel’s face drop from his normal stoic expression to a soft and endearing one.  His hand came up to my cheek as he pressed his thumb gently against it, wiping away my tear as he did.  

  “If I could heal you, I would.”  His face seemed sincere, almost desperate.  I smiled at him, as much as I could.  

  “I know,” I murmured.  “I’m just so tired.”  I hung my head, closing my eyes and wishing I could get a decent night’s sleep.  

  “Rest,” he whispered.  “I’ll stay with you.”

  I looked back up at him, meeting his gaze and knowing that he would.  I dropped my hands back down to the bed and shook my head, pushing myself up to standing.  “We both know that they’ll just be worse, Cas.  But thank you,” I reached out, grabbing his hand and entwining our fingers.  “For everything.”  He nodded, and within a moment, he was gone.  

  Walking out into the library, I saw Sam sitting at the table with his laptop and Dean hovering over him, looking at the screen intently.  I hadn’t gotten to know the brothers very well since being back among the living. Most of my time had been spent in the bathroom at first, hunkered in the corner, under one of the sinks, in the fetal position as I rocked back and forth.  Once Castiel convinced me that I was back, that I was no longer in that place, a room was made available to me.  Or at least, that’s what I had assumed in the last few weeks.  

  Each night, I would lay in bed and attempt to sleep.  Every now and again, I would drift off and find myself dozing.  Only to be interrupted by torturous nightmares.  Flashbacks really. And each always ended the same way.  Cast would gently rouse me, and after a few moments, I would remember him.  Castiel.  The angel who saved me. The one who had removed the hooks from my ribs and the chains from my arms.  The one who had saved me from the fire and the blood and the endless beatings I had been enduring for decades.

  I had died so long ago, I couldn’t even remember how it had happened.  Time had passed that had felt like eons.  Castiel had explained that I had been a hunter.  That my name was Y/N.  And that, to the best of his knowledge, a deal had been made for my soul.  He wasn’t sure what the terms were or why I had agreed to them; only that I had been bound to go to hell since the day I said yes.  And that I had only really been dead for eight years.  

  Walking into the kitchen, I opened the fridge and grabbed a soda.  Cracking the top, I quickly set my lips against the cold can, drawing the refreshing liquid to my lips.  My throat was scratchy and painful.   As though I had actually been screaming in my sleep when I hadn’t been able to do so in my nightmares.  

  “You doing alright?” Dean asked me as he peered up at me over the computer screen.  I nodded slowly, walking over to them and taking a seat at the table.  I ran a hand through my hair, which was evidently badly in need of washing.  

  “Hungry?” Sam asked, eager to help me in any way he could.  I shook my head. My stomach lurched at the thought of eating.  Of chewing.  I had heard the sounds of teeth gnashing at my skin for so many years.  I couldn’t imagine listening to my own mastication.  

  “It’s been over a week since you ate,” Dean observed.  “You’re wasting away here. You need to eat something.”  

  I looked up at the brothers, unsure what to say.  “Cas,” Dean called out. He looked around the room as if he would see him any moment.  “He left,” I informed him.

  “Cas, it’s about Y/N,” Sam spoke up.  There was a rustle of wind and Castiel stood beside me.  He knelt down quickly, bringing himself to eye level as his eyes squinted and he seemed to examine me as if he were a doctor.

  “I’m fine,” I told him.  

  “Yeah, you’re fine,” Dean quipped sarcastically.  “Cas, she hasn’t eaten in days.”  

  Castiel looked down at me as if to confirm Deans accusation.  I held his gaze, knowing that he had seen the tortures I had been through.  Hoping he had at least an idea of it all.  His eyes gave nothing away, but he stood quickly, disappearing yet again.

  “Somebody’s in trouble,” Dean sang out as he took his place again by his brother at the computer.  Sam smiled, shaking his head as he went back to furiously typing on the keyboard.  Less than fifteen seconds passed and I sat sipping my Sprite happily as it soothed my throat.  Without warning, a bowl of creamy chicken noodle soup was placed in front of me.  

  “Eat,” Castiel’s commanding voice rang out, catching me off guard.

  “What is this?” I asked him skeptically.  

  “Soup,” he answered pointedly.  “From China.  The woman said it cures all ails.  Eat.”  He thrust the spoon that he had held in his hand towards me.  

  I looked down at the creamy substance and, grabbing the spoon from Castiel, stirred it.  A chunk of chicken rose to the surface.  I sneered at it, as the meat swiftly changed in my site.  All I saw were dozens of floating bodies where there were previously vegetables and chicken.  The cream had converted to a lake of boiling blood and I could feel the heat from the flames surrounding it licking my cheeks.  The bodies floating in the lake were writhing, screaming in pain as the monsters just below the surface devoured their flesh.  I watched as each bite, each attack ended, and the bodies regrew their lost limbs and appendages.  Just in time for the vile creatures living below them resurfaced and clenched their jaws into them once more.  Over, and over again.  

  Shouts, screams and cries permeated my ears and I felt myself fall backwards, pushing the chair that I had been sitting on out from under me as I crab crawled away from the table.  The screams echoed through the room as they poured out of my mouth.  My eyes were clenched shut as I tried in vain to remove the visions from my mind.  

  “Shhhh, Y/N.” Castiel’s calm voice enveloped me as his arms pulled my in towards his chest.  My shrieks turned to sobs as my eyes opened and focused on the unassuming and perfectly innocent bowl of soup.  

Somewhere Before

Title: Somewhere Before

Pairing: Reader x Cas

Author’s Note: Ever felt you know someone you’ve never seen in your life before? Could it be that said stranger is your soulmate? Or perhaps someone you knew from a past life? There’s only one way to find out… (how’s that for an intro, huh?)

As always, your comments are welcome :)

Originally posted by supernaturaldaily

Your name: submit What is this?

You were being watched.

The familiar prickling sensation of someone’s eyes on you had settled on your neck and stomach for the past thirty minutes or so. If it weren’t for the ethics essay you had due for the following day, you would have left the library the moment you saw the blue-eyed man gazing at you.

Keep reading

Grocery Shopping with Castiel

Words: 308
Warnings: Fluff??


It’s on a rare occasion that you’ll take the angel to shop with you, normally you’ll get Sam or Dean to visit the grocers, but on days like today that wasn’t an option. Cas likes getting out of the bunker, he likes to see other people besides you and the boys everyday, he likes making conversations with any adults that come in his path, so when you ask “Would you like to go grocery shopping with me?” he was ecstatic.

He always wanders, one moment he’s at your side and the next he’s nowhere to be found. With a sigh you decide that it would take less time to finish piling food into the cart then go find Cas. Once you place the final item down you’re on a mission to find your angel, “If I were Castiel, where would I go?” you thought as you search down aisles for what seems to be an invisible man. You check the book area, the clothing, even the toy aisle for him, but everywhere you search you come empty-handed.

As you push the cart back towards the food you catch a glimpse of a familiar khaki trench coat, you stare at the angel who’s observing many colorful fish swimming freely in their glass homes. “I found some fish.” he notes when you stand beside him.

“I can see that.” You smile grabbing onto his hand.

“I thought you’d like this one.” his finger extends, pointing at a goldfish, you smile at his thoughtfulness refusing to bring up the fact that it was a generic fish.

“I love him.” you laugh leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“May we get him?” he looks down at you a slight smile beginning to appear.

“Yes, Castiel. We can get him.” You kiss his cheek swiftly before looking back to the new family member.

Spark's Fall (an AU fanfic by me)

credit to this post for the idea: http://praisezianite.tumblr.com/post/118344308899/sparkleychaos-fillmylifewithyoutubers-oh-god

It started out as a regular summer day. SparkPlug was sitting beside his beloved wife, Ianite, both of them simply relaxing on the front porch of the house they had recently built together. They finally had all the kids out of the house, with Helgrind running his new kingdom and Martha off exploring the world of Ruxomar. They finally had time to rest, or so they thought. All of a sudden they saw Mot running across the green that lay before their house.

Spark plug sat up. “Is that Mot over there?” he asked.
“I believe so,” Ianite replied “but what he’s doing here is beyond me.”
Mot had finally reached the front of the house, his chest heaving and he himself close to passing out from nonstop sprinting.
“What is it?” Spark asked, curious as to why on Ruxomar Mot would be here.
Mot caught his breath “I can’t find Dianite. He was last seen checking with his miners to see if operations had been going fine. That was five days ago.”
Ianite looked at SparkPlug, and they both knew that Spark would have to leave to help. Ianite however, could not join them, as she was bound to stay within this area or else her subconscious could reawaken and wreak havoc across the lands. So Spark and Mot set off to gather Sir Jeriah and CountryBat, for Mot had a strange sense they would be needed.

They had arrived at the mines under Dianite’s great dwarven city. Mot directed the group through the perilous caves, as he was the only one who knew the way through.
“Be careful down here, and follow my every move,” Mot directed, “if you don’t you’ll probably die.”
“Well thats very uplifting” CountryBat replied, sarcasm in her tone.
“Don’t be so snippy with me, little miss” Mot snapped at her. He very quickly realized what he said and stopped to apologize, “Sorry honey, I just…. I can’t stand to think what may be happening to lord Dianite down there.”
Bat reassuringly pats Mot’s back and says “Hey, its alright, I’m sure we’ll find him and it’ll all be alright.”

They move on deeper into the mines until they find a massive pitfall. The shadows around the pit seemed to move, as if alive. Mot secured a rope to a nearby stone and started climbing down to the bottom of the pit, the rest of the gang following behind him slowly. When they reached the bottom, they were standing on a substance they had never seen before. Spark pulled out his trusty pickaxe and tried to dig into it, but it wouldn’t break. Mot even pulled out his hammer and tried, still nothing.
“Strange…” Jeriah commented, “Its indestructible.” The rest nodded and looked around. They could hardly see around here, the air was permeated with some sort of thick, fog like substance, only darker. It was as if the shadows themselves were flying about the place. Mot placed some torches to see, however they weren’t much help.

They kept moving until they found Dianite at the end of a long corridor, battling a cloaked figure. The group stood and watched in awe as this mysterious cloaked figure traded blows with the mighty god. For a brief moment the figure stood still, his eyes glowing white, and surrounded by a dark lavender aura.
“Zianite! Surrender this abyss!” Dianite shouts. Mot mutters “Zianite…?” The cloaked figure stood still silently staring at the god. Oddly enough, the shadows seemed drawn to this “Zianite,” as if he commanded them.
“Do you give in to me yet, dark lord?” Dianite asked. The air hummed with power as a loud, anciently powerful voice came from all around them. “Never” it answered, as Zianite rushed forward, his cloak of coal making him move faster than light. He rushed past Dianite, ran up the side of the nearby cave wall, and came crashing down with a blade in his hands. The blade split right through Dianite’s chest.
“NOOOOOOOOO” Mot screamed, rushing over to Dianite. With Dianite’s last breaths, he says “My dearest, loyalest subject… Come closer.” Mot lifted Dianite’s head while keeping pressure on the fresh wound in his chest. It was gushing blood.
“What is it, my lord?” Mot asked frantically.
“You have been perhaps the greatest companion I have ever had,” he paused, hardly able to hold on to life, “With my dying breath, I give you this” Dianite leaned in an kissed Mot. Mot kissed back, tears streaming down his face. After a few moments, Dianite’s body went limp and fell out of Mot’s arms. Mot sprung up, looking for Zianite.
“YOU KILLED HIM” Mot shouted, hardly choking out the words, “I’LL KILL YOU.” Mot rushes at Zianite but before he can catch him, Zianite steps out of the way and lets Mot fall into a hole that had been broken in the floor. Screaming, then silence, as Mot falls through the endless void. CountryBat screams and jumps down after him, as Mot was her father in some way. Then followed by Sir Jeriah, as he loved Bat and couldn’t allow her to die alone. As SparkPlug tried to jump down after them, a barrier blocked his way.
The ancient voice spoke again, “Oh no, I have other plans for you.” Zianite extends his arms and floats up, and Spark gets to see his face as the cloak flies off. Zianite looked to be a young man, in his mid twenties. He had curly black hair, glowing white eyes, and a smile that was very similar. His chin was covered in a small, scraggly beard. He wore a long navy blue trench coat, Khaki pants, and a black shirt. Spark stares in awe, struggling to move but found himself unable to. In fact, he felt the sensation of weightlessness as the shadows of the void picked him up in the form of a large hand.
A small portal opened, and Ianite stepped through, wearing full battle armor, but she was immediately stopped and constricted by the hands of the void.
“You wont be able to stop me this time” Zianite spoke with his own voice this time. It was a very soothing voice, fairly deep and smooth, but no matter how soothing it was, it instilled fear within Ianite. Spark struggled more and more before the massive hand moved its fingers, and as Spark knew his life was to end he looked deep into Ianite’s eyes. “I love you” he said, right before the hand snapped his neck, and let his lifeless body fall through the void.

Ianite suddenly found herself back in her humble home. She hoped it was all a dream, but alas it was not so. Spark had been killed. Ianite didn’t know what to do with herself… she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She packed up her belongings, ready to leave her newly settled home, when a large portal appeared over Helgrind’s city. Four figures, each shaped like one of the heros that Ruxomar had just lost, fell from it and landed in the city. Ianite would’ve gone to see what it was, but she was too busy. She had to find Zianite. She had to restore balance to the world, and stop Zianite from gaining any more power than he already had.

Christmas Fashion 1964
George Segal and Maggie London walk down a city street, their arms wrapped around each other, he carries a small Christmas tree; she wears a white wool coat by Dani Jrs., black and white muffler by Einier Accessories, black bubble hat by Veaumont, black gloves by Hansen, and grey stockings by Berkshire; he wears a khaki trench coat with slacks. (Photo by Louis Faure) Mademoiselle magazine December 1964