Anon:Hi first off I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could do supernatural story were the reader is obsessed with the show but one day she wakes up in the bunker and she finds out she’s Sam and Dean’s sister but starts to freak out and her ‘brothers’ thinks she may be sick or tries to calm her down. Sorry if that’s confusing <3
Nonnie, I need to apologize for taking so long to get this out, but I hope this was worth the wait. Like always, please message/leave something in my inbox with comments, questions, criticism, if you want to be tagged, etc. Enjoy everyone!
Summary: You are a Sister!Winchester writer and you wake up inside the Bunker one day.
Warnings: None (yes, I know the gif is a typewriter, but it’s hard to find good gifs!)
“Aaaand, you’re done.” You say the final words of your newly written story aloud as you type them. You wrap your blanket bundle around you a little tighter and click the post button. “All right. You’re up for the whole world to see.” You sigh in relief, happier than ever to get this story out. School is about to start up, something you’re not looking forward to in any way, shape, or form.
You close your laptop slowly. You wish the magic of the holiday break didn’t have to end. The sleeping in, the bliss of not knowing what to do for a whole day, not being sure whether it was Monday or Friday. It was heaven.
You look at the clock. 11:08. Well, if you are going to get any sort of sleep for the early day tomorrow, now was as good a time as any to count sheep. You turn off your light and flop down on your bed. You don’t bother to change clothes or take off your shoes for that matter; you’d be wearing the same outfit to school the next day anyways, so why bother?
You turn your head to look around the sights of your room. A Supernatural poster from season 8 hangs on the far wall. Nearby that, you can see the different ‘hunting’ accessories you had collected over the years, scattered all around your bedroom. Some came from bygone Halloweens, others as holiday and birthday gifts. The old pocketknife with the Men of Letters symbol you carved into the handle, the iron sculpture you pilfered from a garage sale, your stashes of salt and homemade goofer dust, and the leather bag that you used for a hex bag in cosplay. A stack of plaid and flannel shirts sits piled under the poster. You’re particularly proud of the angel blade you had ‘forged’ from moldable plastic beads.
You smile, dreaming about your made up life of being the Winchester’s sister. It’s easier to gain story inspiration through dreaming fanfiction. Oh, the hunts, the magic, the creatures, the excitement, the strong sense of family. Every little aspect about it. Just, Sam, Dean, and you. Against the whole world…
Even before you wake up, you can sense something’s wrong. It’s cold. Colder than your room. You feel around for your blanket to pull up to your face. You freeze.
They’re not yours.
Your eyes open immediately. You sit up cautiously. Did I just get kidnapped? you wonder silently. A dark ceiling and plain walls meet your tired eyes that clearly do not belong to you.
You’re not in your bedroom anymore.
The walls are windowless, an odd bookshelf in the corner. Your eyes scan along the book titles: Mythology and Lore, The Official Book of Exorcisms, Shapeshifters vs. Skinwalkers Vol. 1. The entirety of the bookcase was covered with more scrolls and books like these.
“Okay…little creepy…” You glance around the room, suddenly feeling a sense of either paranoia or excitement. You’re not sure yet. The floor is made not of your soft brown-beige carpet, but a hard floor instead. The most off-putting thing is the smell; it’s a mix of air freshener and dust. Overall, pretty musty. Definitely not the smell of the scented candle at home.
Sounds are pretty much nonexistent. There was always some noise in your home. A passing car on the outside street, siblings arguing in the kitchen over who’s turn it was to use the toaster for Pop-Tarts, or the neighbor’s cat yowling in terror after being chased up a tree by a bullying squirrel.
You peer over the edge of a plain bed. There’s a large wooden chest with leather straps on it. Sort of a trunk really. You’ve never seen this before, but it’s familiar. You abruptly realize you have seen it before.
In your head.
Pieces of everything about this room fly together. The books on the shelf. The floor. The lack of windows and noise. The smell. Waking up in a different bed. Everything is how you’ve imagined it in your stories. You’ve pictured this room in your mind a thousand times, creating different story upon story in this setting.
This is the room you created for the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.
“That’s not possible…” Only one way for you to be sure. You rub your hands on the top of this mysterious box. If every other detail is right, then this would prove what was going on. Your eyes look down apprehensively, suddenly feeling a series of grooves on the lid of the trunk. You gasp aloud, trying everything to keep from screaming. A six-pointed star is burned into the top of the chest. A Star of Aquarius, better known to you as the symbol for the Men of Letters.
“Just like I wrote.” Your whole body is trembling. Jury’s still out on whether your shaking is from panic or happiness. You look down at yourself. You’re still in the same outfit you fell asleep in: black and white plaid shirt over a black tank top and ripped blue jeans. Your feet are still in the brown faux leather boots from Shopko. You’d tastefully nicknamed them your ‘Winchester Boots’. Little did you know that you’d actually be wearing them in the freaking Bunker.
You slap yourself. Ow. “Okay. Real. Not dreaming. I’m…in…the Bunker.” You turn around in place in a daze. A frightened happy smile stretches across your face. “I’m in the Bunker. The Bunker.”
You take a look at a wooden nightstand. You pull open the drawer cautiously, fearing what might be inside. Inside sits a knife, exactly like your knife in your bedroom. Your other bedroom The not Supernatural one. All the way down to the Men of Letters symbol carved inside. Which makes sense; you’ve based so much of your stories on yourself. Under that sits a small framed but faded photo. You immediately know who it should be, but your curiosity gets the better of you. You gently pick it up.
It’s happy photo of the little baby you sitting on your Dad’s shoulders. Not John Winchester’s shoulders. Your father. Riiight. The sister I created was adopted, not a Winchester by blood, you remind yourself. You stare intently at the picture, recalling the backstory you’d given your Win!sister.
A father turned into an encantado and the mom was a good friend of John Winchester so she teamed up with him in the hunting life. Y/N, became real close to Sam and Dean, helping out with research in her early years and later learning the trade. Teaming up wasn’t a constant thing, but enough to where the boys considered her their sister. John ended up killing Y/N’s dad when he showed up years later. Sam and Dean meeting up became less and less until it stopped completely when Y/N helped Sam get to Stanford. Contact resumed at Roadhouse with Ellen. Her mom died when the Gates of Hell were opened while Y/N was young. She’s been in Sam and Dean’s care since-
You’re cut off by a sudden, yet soft, knocking on the door. “Hey, Y/N.”
You know that mellow voice all too well. You gasp loudly and just barely manage to hold on the to the picture before it can shatter. Standing in front of the door is the freaking giant of a man Sam Winchester.
He looks at you with mild concern. “You okay? Didn’t mean to scare you.” He finishes with a natural smile. “You didn’t answer your phone. Dean and I just finished one weird case. You’re gonna laugh your head off at this one.”
You back up into the side of bed, still not sure whether to be terrified or bouncing off the walls. You can barely hold onto your voice.
Your eyebrows shoot like rockets towards the ceiling. “Sam??”
Sam steps towards you. “Y/N, is something going on?”
“Sam freaking Winchester. In front of me.” You run your twitchy hands through your hair. “Oh gosh, this is happening. This is real. This-this-i-i-it’s. Holy mother flippin’ Metatron. You’re Sam Winchester.”
Sam smiles unsure with a little laugh in his throat. “Y/N, you’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.”
You start gesturing frantically, as you usually did when you fangirled. “Yes yes yes yes, I know I know I know! This i-i-i-is. This is unbelievable. I mean, you’re right there and I’m right here in this room and-” You abruptly stop and take a look at Sam, who is slowly backing towards the exit. “I’ve gone meta, haven’t I?”
“Uh…Dean!” Sam shouts over his massive shoulder.
The distant reply of another voice you know hits your ears and a dorky grin stretches across your face. “Oh man, Dean’s here too. Oh boy. Oooookay…”
“C’mere for a sec!” Sam gives you a funny look. “Just…stay right here for a minute.”
You sit down on the bed, beyond happy to comply. “Okay!” Your energy level is off the charts.
Sam walks out of the room with a slightly faster pace than you expect. You hear his footsteps recede to where they’re undetectable. You get up off the bed, a whole new strength coursing through you; in your sudden excitement to see the Winchesters, you ignored the fact that not only are you in a different place, but you’re different too. Your body is roughly the same height, maybe a little taller. But you’re extremely fit now. You feel muscles bulging out of your arms, calves, and torso. It’s a whole new thing. You’re still around the same size as you were, but more of a body-builder version rather than a light exerciser.
You run your hands along the slightly bulging muscles in your upper arms. “Cool.” Your eyes sidle to an unopened closet. A new thought hatches in your mind. “I wonder…” You walk over and open the door, adrenaline and adventure filling your energetic body. You smile. Inside, behind the rack of clothing, is the set of weaponry you dreamt of always having. Shotguns and rifles and swords and pistols and ninja stars and salt rounds and-
You lay your eyes on the two weapons you crave the most: the Enochian carved angel blade from your I See Wings series and three sets of throwing knives you imagined: One for demons, one for creatures, one for witches. Each knife set was enchanted with spells you had found in the Bunker, designed with silver or iron or salt.
At least, that’s how you wrote it. You still hope it’s true.
You pry one out from it’s meticulously crafted case. Oh, the glory of holding one of those babies is indescribable. The black leather grip, the smoothness of the knife, the simplistic beauty of the curvature. You never knew how long you waited for this moment. And your new body is just begging you to try the knife out. You curl it back almost daintily, aim and…
Before you can let your blade loose, Dean himself comes striding into your room. He’s on guard instantly when he sees you with the knife. “Woah, Y/N.” He rushes over to your side and grabs your wrist. “If you wanna throw, we’ve got the shooting range, not your room.”
You stare at him in utter shock, that goofy fangirl smile coming back onto your face. “Dean?” you whisper. Your eyes grow wide. “You’re…real…”
Dean knits his eyebrows together. He scoffs and sits you down on the bed by your shoulders. “Course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”
You can see Sam standing in the door, hesitant to come in the room. Your eyes flick rapidly between the two of them. “I’m-I’m really here? This isn’t some sort of…prank or-or joke or…” You look into the Winchester’s eyes, ever growing concern stretching across their faces. “I mean…you’re both real…” you breathe out.
Dean sets your throwing knife on the bed. “Y/N, are you high?” The seriousness in his voice throws you off guard.
“No! No, no, nope!” you yelp. “Definitely not high.” You scan around the room distractedly, trying to ground yourself on something. “Not high…definitely…not…”
“Uh-huh…” Dean clearly doesn’t believe you. He turns to Sam. “And you just found her like this?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on-”
“What was the last thing that happened to you?” you interrupt. If you can figure out what just happened to the boys, then maybe you can figure out how you got here.
Dean takes a breath. “Well, you wanted to stay and get some research done. We just got back from some weird ass musical about our lives.”
Season 10 episode 5, you immediately think. “So, you’re not a demon anymore and,” you point to Sam, “you just killed Calliope then, right?”
Sam squints at you. “How do you know that?”
“Y/N, what’s going on?” The expression on Dean’s face just melts your poor little fangirl heart. The concern, the honesty. Ugh.
“I…I don’t know. I just woke up here and…” You struggle to find the right words when a lightbulb goes off. You stand up off the bed. “Do you remember when Balthazar zapped you two to an alternate universe?”
Both Sam and Dean groan. “Damn, that was bad,” Dean complains.
“Well, think of this as a reverse one of those.” You grin sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the room as it dawns on the boys. Sam speaks up first.
“You mean…you’re from…”
“Not exactly.” You rub the back of your neck. “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I write stories about the show Supernatural. Mostly about if Sam and Dean Winchester had a sister…” you fade out seeing as Dean’s head looks like it’s about to explode.
“Wait, you what??”
“In the show, it’s just…well, you two. But, I began writing my own stories imagining if you two had a sister. And I guess I’m having some kind of meta crisis right now, apparently. I woke up here in the world I created.”
“In the body of our sister.” Dean sounds more hostile towards you than before.
“Not exactly. It’s sort of a reverse Balthazar situation with a bit of Chuck mixed in.”
Sam looks the least freaked out out of everyone in the room. “Okay. So, you wrote about…us and if we had a sister? Why if?”
“In my life or universe or whatever, Y/N Winchester doesn’t exist except in the stories I write.” You take a look at Dean who looks like he could Hulk out on you. You raise your hands defensively. “I based her on me though. So, it’s not like I’m possessing her; I am her. Sort of.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You wrote her so you are her?”
“Pretend you rewrote the Lord of the Rings with you in them. But, you didn’t want to name yourself after you, so you came up with another name. Like…Jim. Then you find yourself in that story you wrote as Jim. But you based Jim off of you so it is you in it’s own way.”
“This is already making my brain sick.” Dean rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers.
“No, I get it. That makes sense.” You silently thank Sam for saving your bacon.
“The only question is how I got here. I literally went to sleep and woke up here. Nothing different than normal.”
“Okay…if you were writing this, as a story, what would you explain it as?”
You put a hand up to the back of your neck, a habit when you try to concentrate. “Well, if I was writing this, I’d probably be dealing with a spell of some kind, but nothing crazy happened to me last night. So,” you begin to pace, “that leaves me with…oh. Great.” You sigh and purse your lips together.
“Hex bags. I have one in my room.” The Winchesters continue to stare at you. You sigh. “Not a witch, it’s just for cosplay and Halloween. But, I didn’t sweep my room last night. Someone could’ve swapped it out for a real one.”
Dean tips his head up to the ceiling. “I freaking hate witches.”
“Well, it might not be a witch.”
“What do you mean?”
“A witch is only one idea. It might be a tulpa, or a really messed up spirit, or-” You stop, a new idea entering your head. You close your eyes. “Ah, crap.” You raise your hand in a ‘shut-up’ gesture, simply going over to a tv set in the corner of the room and turning it on.
Dean leans forward on the bed. “You gotta kidding me.”
“Perks of writing your own world. You get a pretty good hunch on who did it.” A Casa Erotica scene starts setting up.
Sam points to the screen. “But, he died.”
A very familiar waiter rips off his mustache. “Think again, boys. And girl.” Gabriel pops out through the tv screen landing in front of you and the Winchesters. A weird combination of a smile and an ‘exasperated-parent face’ hits your face. The archangel looks at you. “How do they do it on BBC?” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss me?”
The things you want are not always easy to get. Obstacles arise, Silly fights. Old flames and unfortunately even your own thoughts at times. Even with all the happiness it still leaves the question: ‘How can two people who are perfect for each other be so fucked when it comes to being together?’
You’re night was even more depressing than you intended, wrapped in a blanket on your couch, drowning your feelings in a tub of ice cream and the latest gossip show. Your phone rested on the kitchen counter as it illuminated the dark room with a text message.
“Will you allow me to see you tomorrow?”
His message remained unanswered, ignored even. You were being held hostage by your own thoughts, torturing you with ridiculous thoughts. You can feel your eyes begin to water as you drift away from the television trying to calm yourself down.
“God, I was so stupid.” You say, slamming your spoon into the ice cream tub. “Why the hell would I think he would be interested in me. It wasn’t even a real relationship.”
You scoff at your stupidity, “Of course, he would be interested in her still.” You shake your head, “She’s beautiful and plastic. Every guys dreams, A big ass, Big Boobs and Tall and she cakes on the make up.” You complain. The rant went on and on, abusing your self image. Pointing out every flaw to justify the situation, it was easier to believe that you were less attractive than ‘Barbie’ than Chris didn’t care about you.
The next morning, you wake up on the couch, the melted tub of ice cream resting on the cushion beside you. Dried tears and swollen puffy eyes claim your face. You had a long day ahead of you even worse that day would inevitable that you would come face to face with Chris. He was an actor on the movie you were overseeing.
You’re job as a costume assistant didn’t mean you’d have a lot of interaction with the actors because the head of the department was in charge of that area but there were moments where you’d come face to face with them. Exactly the same way that you came face to face with Chris.
Today, you were in a different mindset. Completely normal as if the night before you didn’t cry yourself to sleep.
“There’s flowers for you on the table.” Mary says, hidden from behind the stack of costumes.
“What?” You say, signing your name on the sign-in sheet.
“On the table near the hats, there’s flowers for you.” Your eyes trail the room landing on a bouquet of flowers resting on the small table. A bright bouquet of red roses. You walk towards it hesitantly picking up the card and reading it silently.
Jisung didn’t get plastic surgery. What we saw on Gayo Daejun was just a job of extreme contouring. You can see in these before and after pics that his nose still looks the same. Plus, Jisung’s a growing guy, at 14 years old it’s expected that his looks are going to change, and I’m pretty sure all of us are familiar with losing a bit of baby fat here and there?
I probably sound like a petty fan here lol but I felt the need to clear up these rumors because frankly, even though we’ve all heard bad stuff coming from SM, I think it’s ridiculous that they’d give plastic surgery to a 14-year-old boy.
With plastic surgery, there are so many things to consider. It could effectively make him look strange growing up with a nose job–it could not end up fitting in with his grown face at all. Being an industry known for being superficial, where looks supposedly nearly matter the most, I don’t think it’s a risk they’d be willing to take.
Plus, when would Taeyong ever allow such a thing to happen to his bby Jisung ???
(note: the pictures on the right are all pictures of Jisung during Gayo Daechukje, after Gayo Daejun when the rumors started)
Simon gets the surprise of his life when his roommate, Baz, asks him to
pretend to be his boyfriend. Everything is going according to plan until
the line of what’s real and what isn’t starts to blur, and they both
have to make a decision.
I stand in front of the school gate and I think to myself, this is it.
I’ve done it. Ever since that day when I was eleven and I went off and
the Mage came and brought me here, I’ve been on this amazing adventure
and now here I am. Eight years later and I’ve fought dragons and
chimeras and goblins and Baz, and I made it through.
But the real eroticism of Simon Snow is, like the devil himself, in the
details – the moles on his right cheek hiding in a bath of red skin,
blue eyes heavy with lust, bronze curls tangled between Baz’s dark
fingers, lips parted in invitation. Which Baz eagerly accepts. Fucking
When Baz had been younger, he’d
imagined how his leaver’s ball would go. Due to his secret love to
high school teeny movies (though he mostly just laughed about all the
clichés, he still liked the romances) he had always thought of
horribly corny scenarios. He’d thought of pink balloons and red
plastic cubs. In his dreams, he allowed himself to think about his
mother and how she would hold a speech.
Over her nearly 60-year life, Barbie has taken on many forms, but she’s never been a hologram.
Now, though, she is having a truly out-of-body experience, showing up in her first holographic figure, Hello Barbie Hologram. Barbie parent company Mattel unveiled the semi-translucent and chatty AI figure, which lives inside a pink plastic box, on Friday at the New York Toy Fair.
This is far from Barbie’s first brush with AI. Mattel introduced Hello Barbie artificial intelligence inside a physical Barbie doll in 2015. She was a particularly powerful digital assistant, engaging in conversations about interests, favorite foods and telling jokes. A year later, the AI showed up in Barbie’s first smart home, The Hello Barbie Dreamhouse, where, using voice commands, you could ask the house to give Barbie a ride on the elevator and customize the lights.
Unlike previous Hello Barbie AI’s, Hello Barbie Hologram is designed to be a true digital assistant and will engage on the trigger words “Hello Barbie.” The AI offers speech recognition and is designed to answer questions about the weather, news and is ready to do “anything a digital assistant can do,” a Mattel representative said.
As we approached Hello Barbie Hologram, it was quite clear that she isn’t a true hologram. What we were seeing, a Mattel exec told us was a prototype using “just an effect, there are no lasers.” I could clearly see a 4-inch tall hologram-like Barbie dancing in the box, but it looks like a projection against a diagonal piece of semi-translucent glass. The final product will also be a faked hologram without lasers. To demonstrate Hello Barbie Hologram’s capabilities, they had us shift our gaze to a giant box on display next to the little box.
Out of the darkness emerged a person-sized Barbie hologram, which used the same technology to display as the smaller prototype. While much of the interaction between the Mattel spokesperson and the holographic Barbie appeared to be scripted (at one point, the hologram didn’t even wait for the spokesperson to finish her line), it was also clear how a child might engage with their night-stand-dwelling personal assistant.
When asked “What’s the weather in Malibu today?” the holographic Barbie walked over to a window that suddenly appeared, looked out, gave us a weather report and added that it was perfect flip-flop weather. A child can even use Hello Barbie Hologram to set reminders. When asked to do this, the hologram takes out her virtual phone and makes a note.
Hello Barbie Hologram is also just as diverse as real-life Barbie, and Mattel demonstrated how, with voice commands, you can change Barbie’s skin tone, ethnicity and body type.
They also showed how Hello Barbie Hologram could act as a sort of playmate, dancing on command and, yes, even dabbing.
Having a Wi-Fi-connected always-listening digital assistant in your child’s bedroom might be cause for concern, and Barbie is no stranger to controversy. In 2015, watchdog groups took Mattel to task for the way it was handling the audio recordings it used to interpret and answer queries. At the time, Mattel told the Washington Post they were “committed to safety and security, and Hello Barbie conforms to applicable government standards.“ They also made it clear to Mashable that they expected children to turn off Hello Barbie when not in use. This time around, the company does not plan to store any of the conversations with Hello Barbie Hologram.
The Hello Barbie Hologram assistant, though is intended to stay on and listen for “Hello Barbie.” Mattel wasn’t clear on how long Hello Barbie Hologram will listen before she turns off.
"We are still exploring how long the listening window will be to provide the optimum conversational experience for kids,” the Mattel rep said, adding that Hello Barbie Hologram is not always listening.
But that leads us to wonder how the hologram can hear the trigger phrase. In addition, nothing will be sent to the cloud unless it’s preceded by “Hello Barbie,” according to Mattel. Hello Barbie Hologram relies on PullStrong for its AI, natural language processing and IoT connectivity to, according to Mattel, “create a safe, cloud-based platform for girls.” They will also use 256-bit encryption for all the data the AI does manage.
Parents, who set up Hello Barbie Hologram via an app, will have some customization control, but it’s too early to say if they will be able to set a listening schedule (for example, “Stop listening or responding after 8 p.m.”). Mattel says parents can turn the device off at any time via the power switch.
Hello Barbie Hologram will ship this fall. Pricing has yet to be set.
Ride 'em, Barbie
The Barbie Dream line is also expanding in the physical realm with a new animatronic horse naturally called Hello Dream Horse.
Large enough for a typical Barbie doll to ride, the white stallion with a long-flowing golden mane can walk and even dance on its own to three different songs. The Dream Horse, which you get to name, features realistic horse sounds and can even fake eat plastic carrots (you hear a chewing sound). It’s also touch- and voice-sensitive (ask the horse if it’s having fun and it will nod its plastic head).
Hello Dream Horse has attitude.
Image: Lili Sams/mashable
That mane is insane.
Image: lili sams/mashable
We got a quick demonstration in which a few things became immediately evident: Dream Horse doesn’t move all that smoothly and it lacks any kind of visual sensors to keep it from galloping off a table.
Even so, it’s probably the most active toy horse Mattel has ever created for Barbie. It also arrives this fall and will list for $99.99.