{ prompt: weecest + last day in school | requested by: @golly-god | tagging: @corrupteddean @policeofficerdean @angelicmeg @purgatoan }

Sam knows he should just get used to it– always moving, always being the new kid in school but he hates it. And he knows he’ll hate it even more when Dean graduates next year because he’ll be all alone and… warm fingers slip into his, and then Dean is holding his hand like there’s no else in that bus but them. Sam enjoys the contact, but the entire school knows they’re brothers and this is wrong and–

“Hey.” Dean smiles, his thumb running through Sam’s skin gently, comforting. “Cheer up. It’s our last day here.”

Sam wants to complain, to tell Dean that he’s tired of being the new kid again and again but it doesn’t matter. Dad always has the last word and maybe things can be different when they grow up. Maybe he can convince Dean to have a normal, safe life and they can be together just as they want. That’s a good plan.

The bus finally stops and Sam sighs, trying to tug his hand away from Dean’s but his brother just doesn’t let him go. Okay– this is weird. Dean is always the one pushing him away when they’re at school. Sam doesn’t care about it. They have to play normal here. It means Dean will flirt with girls and Sam will just study and ignore the other kids calling him a nerd.


“It’s our last day here.” Dean repeats, eyes shining in a different way– in a way that says he’s about to kiss the soul out of Sam. “Let these fuckers think whatever they want.”

“They know we’re brothers–” Sam hisses, because it’s the right thing to do, because they don’t want to get caught

But Dean ignores him and pulls him up, hands still connected as they step out of the bus and into the school building. Sam gulps and tries not to look around, tries not to see if everyone is just staring and whispering and hopes they’re not, because his brother will get in trouble trying to shut them up– because Dean is just like that. Sam enjoys it, he loves to feel Dean’s hands in his, but… Dean must be drunk, he wonders. There’s no other reason for this sudden behavior.

They stop at the door of Sam’s classroom and for a second Sam thinks Dean will just drop his hand and leave like he always do– but then Dean is kissing him. He’s pressing Sam against the wall and kissing him like they do when they’re in the Impala or alone in the motel. Sam panics but Dean doesn’t give up until he’s kissing back, hands gripping at the old leather jacket because there’s no way he’ll be able to stand by himself after that.

“I don’t give a fuck about ‘em–” Dean whispers and smiles as if he hadn’t just kissed his baby brother in the middle of a crowded hall. “I love ya, Sammy.”

Sam blushes hard, gasping when Dean kisses him again– his big brother is just crazy, that’s it. He’s sure there are people staring now, there are surprised and disgusted whispers reaching his ears now– but when Dean moves away, he’s smiling so brightly that Sam forgets he should be mad at him.

When the day is finally over, Sam is too dizzy to care about Dean holding his hand all the way back to the motel, pressing kisses to his cheek whenever Sam is too distracted to escape his lips.

Sam quite likes the gestures, anyway.

anonymous asked:

Its one of those photos that Phil will cherish for the rest of his life. Like one day when he's in his old age home and he has it framed and the nurses will ask who the cutie in a hat is and hell say "oh that was my husband, wasn't he so cute?" I hate myself I'm sorry.

max and the way after midnight visitor (bmw 1)

So last weekend I decided to check back in on Paranatural for the first time in years… such a good move. Still my favorite by far. And hey, I’m apparently back just in time for bullymagnet week, which wasn’t even a thing before. My timezones may be a little off, not quite sure, but this is for day one - night.


Max wakes up at 4:17 AM to the familiar sound of ol’ Hissin’ Pete freaking out. He groans, rolling over to put a pillow on top of his head, only to bolt upright when he rolls right onto his fractured arm.

“FLIPPIN’ HECK,” he screams through gritted teeth, curling over it.

“Mister Max! Are you okay?” PJ inquires, looming out of the darkness with a nightmare grin. Max means that literally. He’s had nightmares about that grin.

It does look a little more nervous than usual this time, though. He squints, honestly just to get a better look in the darkness, but PJ immediately quails before his face, admitting, “I’m sorryyyy, it was me that got Hissin’ Pete going but I only did it because a weird kid on your roof threatened to punch Lefty!”

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