yes i still think hannah is lying about not enjoying killing

And We Made This House A Home

A/N: Not sure why this has never been done, or if it has, I haven’t read it so kindly send the link my way! Hello beautiful humans, I will be gone for six days on a beach trip with friends so I wanted to leave you a little something before I left. It’s short, around 1,500 words and it’s mostly sweet so get your dentists ready. 

P.S. wordharvest should have a permanent place on my A/N. (Should be a thing)

Dedicated to the anon and aloneinablackandwhiteworld, who wanted some Goose, Ollie and Hartbig sweetness and snippets of daily lives. 

She grumbles softly under her breath as she holds up one of her favorite raglans, tired fingers digging into the soft, familiar cloth that was now decorated with rips and tears from sharp teeth and eager claws. This was the third shirt this week, maybe almost the tenth one this month, and she wonders how they could still have clothes to wear when she’s almost sure that most of it has been shredded to pieces by hyperactive dogs.

“Goddammit.” Grace mutters, fingertips brushing against the loose threads that adorn the edges of each hole. She knows that there’s no fixing this one.

She tosses the ruined shirt straight into the bin, cursing as she pads around the house to try to find out which of the two did it this time.

Keep reading

Red carpets and unexpected journeys

Hey kids. 

The cool @yesthatjess sent me a prompt a few days ago and I was still thinking about writing it or not (because I have 6 projects I’m working on) when she text me saying she had written it herself. I begged to read the thing and she sent it to me, saying she didn’t know if she would finish it because she felt something was off and also didn’t have free time to do it.

Well, we talked and decided I’d change some things and finish it. And here is its first part (a second and final one is coming soon.)

Hartbig. All lies and all that jazz. SFW. SFF. 4961 (’unbetaed’) words.

Hannah’s alarm goes off and she groans, throwing the blanket over her head and hopping the forced darkness delays the starting of her day. Her head is pounding and she groans again, trying to remember why drinking way too much sounded like a good idea in the night before, especially when they knew they had important meetings to attend today. 

Keep reading

aletheia. 11x06 coda. (ao3)

They stand in tense silence, glaring at each other across the table, as they wait for Sam to leave the room.

It’s always like this between them, Cas thinks: constantly waiting for the right moment.

“So,” Dean says, as soon as he’s sure Sam is out of earshot. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on here?”

Cas sighs, shoulders sagging. “I already told you,” he says. “Metatron isn’t a threat. He isn’t going to–”

Dean slams a hand on the table. “That’s not the point,” he says, punctuating the last word with a jab of his finger. “The shit he pulled, Cas…How are you not angry as hell about what he’s done to the angels? To you? How could you just let him go?

Cas bristles at that. He is angry. He’s furious about what Metatron has done to him and to his siblings and to Dean. Especially, he thinks sometimes, about what Metatron has done to Dean. He can’t keep the trembling rage out of his voice as he says, “I was angry, Dean. I was so angry that it was the only thing that managed to get me out of the bunker. I couldn’t manage it until I saw his face on TV. That’s how angry I was. I still am.”

Dean pushes himself up off the table, straightening suddenly. Something in his expression shifts, like he’s recalibrating. “Wait,” he says, after a few beats. “When we talked, earlier, and I said you didn’t sound good. Was that. Was I right?”

Bad weird, Dean had said. Cas had thought it apt, at the time. But he had felt good weird about that–about Dean asking after him–for a few glorious moments, before he realized the real purpose of the call. He laughs bitterly at the memory, the excitement and the subsequent disappointment. He says, “For a minute, I thought you called just to see how I was doing. But you were seeing if I was ready to throw myself back into the fray. If I could be useful to you again.” He takes a breath, tilting his head back and rolling his eyes heavenward, as if there’s anyone there willing or able to help him. “But yes,” he adds, looking back down, pinning Dean with his gaze. “You were correct.”

Keep reading