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crackinglamb · 1 year

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I haven’t read your DAI stuff so (no dunk on you, I just can’t get into the game) pick out a piece of a favourite scene and give me a break down!

🥰 I know you're not a fan of the games, and therefore probably not a fan of Solas. So I very much appreciate the ask. Thank you so much. I'll keep as much of the shippy-ness out of this as possible but it is the lens I dissect him under, so to speak. Hope you're strapped in and/or reasonably comfortable. This is long.

I picked a very short snippet for a little context and setup:

“Can you walk?” she asked. He nodded once, pushing on the wall to use its leverage to gain his feet. He wavered there until she sighed and wrapped her arm around his waist. She didn't speak again until she'd half dragged, half led him back across the courtyard to an unassuming wooden door, crooked on its hinges. She kicked it behind her once they were through it, and turned to him, a stern expression on her face. “I shouldn't let you in.”

“No, you shouldn't,” he rasped out. “You cannot know what danger I have brought to you.”

Lark lifted a sardonic eyebrow at him, then huffed in exasperation. She hauled his arm back over her shoulders and led him deeper into what remained of the compound. “Foolish wolf.” (From A Fallow Season)

So...first of all, I never intended to go down this rabbit hole. I know I say it a lot, but it's still true. Before I played the game, all I knew of Solas was some spoilers and fanon. It painted a very polarized picture. It wasn't until I did some research (for another DA fic) that I discovered why. He's trying to fix a mistake. He's doing it completely the wrong way, with a head full of pedantic arrogance and misguided ideals. He's a disaster on legs. But at his core, this is who he is: a man trying to atone for something he did.

And suddenly I was fascinated. I do understand why people dislike him, especially on a surface level. I have Opinions about it, but that's not what you're asking for. I wanted to know, what makes him tick? What possible inducement could get him to not destroy the world?

After writing hundreds of thousands of words on the subject, I got deeper into the lore and history of Thedas and started wondering if there was another perspective to bring into play other than my usual Modern Girl In Thedas. Thus, Lark Cadash was born. Dwarves in Thedas are interesting in that they are depicted as a dwindling race, not from their own doing, but by the doings of others. Leaving out MUCH of the endemic problems BW has with trying to create races other than humans, dwarves are equally as fascinating to me.

They've lost almost all of their culture too, just like elves. They're divided as a people. They have long memories. Lark was designed to defenestrate canon (my specialty), and be one of those that was trained to keep the history of her people alive rather than just be a Plot Relevant Thug(tm). I mean, she is that too, just reluctantly. In brief, she and Solas find they're very alike, actually want the same thing, although by different means, and they knowingly fall in doomed love. (As far as they know. Since I'm the author, I know what will actually happen at the end.) Someday I'll get the longfic finished.

This fic takes place at some vague future date when he's 'succeeded' at his plans. It's the classic 'I had nowhere else to go' protag/antag dynamic. It was both a chance to dig into what might happen down the line and to bring two old lovers back together a final time before it ends in tragedy. It's a favorite because it came out of my head as this almost lyrical series of scenes building towards a climax of mutual sacrifice. 'All is lost, but for one moment, we had each other.'

That's not normally my cup of tea, I like happy endings. But every now and then I get in a mood where I just want something angsty. I tend to keep it in oneshots, where it's over pretty quickly. 😆

The prompt it came from was 'they are together, but only for the winter'. And it grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go. It's both beautiful and despairing. It exists in a time of bleakness, on many levels. Originally it was roughly 300 words long, very direct and to the point. I kept getting more and more details and ideas for it, though, so I just started writing them. There's a bit of stream of consciousness in its layout that still bugs me a little, but otherwise I'm happy with it.

One of the things I've discovered about Solas as a character/narrative foil is that who he is set against brings out a lot of different facets to him. Like I said, I get why some people don't like him. He's incredibly complex and for the most part well written. It's fun to deep dive into his psyche. Ultimately it's what keeps me writing about him. And if you read this far, thank you. 😊

From this post. Askbox is still open.

#asks #writer's commentary #a fallow season #lark cadash #solas

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batbirdies · 1 year

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just feel like making a post today because I have been working on penny drops!!! it's been a whole year since my last update I think. But I finally have a solid direction for the next chapter. I think it will be the second to last if things go to plan but you know how I am hahahahaha.

but with that in mind, I really want to finish penny drop soon because I have a collaborative fic I reeaally want to work on with my bff @coyote-nebula :3

just throwing that out to the world and sharing my excited mood<3

#the penny drops the penny dreads #penny drops #fanfiction #batfam #batbirdies writes #new ideaaas #am I coming out of the fallow season??? we can hope lmao

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ndn-craft · 11 months

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What’s a fun seasons au thing you’ve wanted to share but haven’t?

I added CaptainSparklez into this au specifically for my friend cause I love them

#answered #fallow-foot #it was meant to be a silly thing but uh now he's pretty important to the plot #seasons au

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adventure-alex · 10 months

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🦌🎶 The Voice of Nara: Exploring the Unique Sika Deer Sounds🎶🦌

🦌 Step into the enchanting world of Nara, Japan, where ancient culture meets the mesmerizing language of Sika deer. 🇯🇵🌸...

🔍 The Whistle of Caution 🔔 As the sun casts a warm glow over Nara Park, the Nara deer's keen sense of alertness is evident in their gentle whistles. 🌞🔉...

😊 The Snort of Curiosity 😄 One of the highlights of visiting Nara is the heartwarming interaction with the friendly Sika deer! 🥰🦌...

🎶 The Whistle of the Rut 🦌🍁 As autumn arrives, Nara Park witnesses a captivating transformation within its deer community. The rutting season begins, and the park comes alive with melodious whistles of the male Sika deer! 🍂🍃...

Don't miss this incredible journey through the captivating language of the Sika deer! 🦌🗣️... Check out my blog for more information about Nara and the Deers!

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lathrine · 1 year

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friends and companions the holiday spirit simply is not there this year. i put our tree up last week and still havent put lights or ornaments up. i didnt buy stuff for my usual goodie bags or stocking stuffers. i only got a handful of gifts for a couple people. im not making my usual winter feast. im not even buying a new candle for my family's solstice tradition-- im reusing my favorite from year's past.

this is me giving you permission to change things up and break tradition. this time of year can suck for a lot of reasons, and sometimes everything thats going on makes it hard to feel festive. if thats your reality, its okay to do things a little different. you arent failing anyone, or somehow celebrating wrong. your health and happiness is more important than the expectation of the Correct Way To Observe The Holidays.

#okay to rb #every solstice for the last six years ive made a whole feast spread with roast duck at the center #this year we're gonna buy nice ramen from our favorite ramen place.#i absolutely love this season but my hearts just not in it this year yknow?#and thats okay. and its okay if yours isnt either #everything else in the world around us is resting and laying fallow this time of year #and its okay if its our turn to rest too

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mirai-shihaisha · 2 years

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(via fall is my second favorite f word Graphic T-Shirt by shihaisha)

Funny yet True

#findyourthing #redbubble #fall #fall fashion #fall colors #fall2022 #fallowme #fall weather #falltime #fall vibes #fall style #falldecor #fallow #fall leaves #fall season #fall in love

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f1 · 2 years

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Aston Martins potential feels very similar to Red Bulls early days Fallows | 2022 F1 season

Aston Martin’s new technical director Dan Fallows, who has joined them following a long stint at Red Bull, says they remind him of the early days at his previous squad. Fallows has arrived at Aston Martin following a lengthy dispute between the two teams over his services. He said the attention his move attracted was “really embarrassing.” “Especially when you’ve got friends sending messages with links to articles about you,” he told Aston Martin’s website. “I’ve never really been interested in this sort of thing – I’m not in it for the publicity. All I’m interested in is making fast cars.” He has arrived at a team which was taken over by Lawrence Stroll in 2018 and rebranded as Aston Martin last year. Fallows sees strong similarities to Red Bull’s transformation when it took over the Jaguar team at the end of 2004. “One of the most exciting parts of the Red Bull journey was when the team evolved from Jaguar,” said Fallows. “A small team with a very limited budget suddenly had significantly more budget, more resource, and more technical strength right at the top of the organisation. “Watching the team grow, being part of that growth, being part of the success, even making mistakes along the way and learning from them, it was incredibly exciting. What’s happening at Aston Martin F1 right now feels very similar to what happened at Red Bull then.” Fallows worked for Jaguar from 2002 until its takeover by Red Bull two years later. Following a stint at Dallara, he returned to Red Bull in 2006, and was with them throughout their championship-winning successes of 2010-13. Before leaving the team Fallows worked on the “initial stages” of the Red Bull RB18, which has become the car to beat this year. “Roughly half the aero development work had been done by the time I left,” he said. “I have a pretty good understanding of what they’ve done and how they’ve approached things.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free However he had no involvement with Aston Martin’s AMR22 upgrade, introduced at the Spanish Grand Prix, which bore a close similarity to Red Bull’s design. “The upgrade had already been designed before I arrived,” he said. Major Aston Martin upgrade drew comparisons to Red Bull “I completely understand why the team did it. The car was always designed with two concepts in mind and from very early on the feeling was that it had gone in the wrong direction. “The decision to switch actually helped me get up to speed quicker: I understood more about the concept we introduced at the Spanish Grand Prix than I did about the previous concept.” The team will bring further upgrades to its car at next week’s race, which Fallows says are partly aimed at their plans for next year. “As part of a programme to reduce the weight of the car, and improve the aerodynamic performance, we have some new items for Singapore,” he said. “It’s about making the car faster but it’s also about next year’s car. It’s so important to keep bringing developments to the car and not waste any opportunity to test them on the track. You can have as much faith as you like in your wind tunnel and CFD tools, but the real answer is what happens on track.” Although Aston Martin has endured a difficult 2022 campaign, falling to ninth out of the 10 teams in the championship, Fallows is encouraged by the progress they have made with their car. “For us to build confidence in what we’re doing for ’23 – in the direction we’re going – we need to keep bringing updates to the track,” he said “The response from the drivers about the changes we have made this season has been good and we’ve seen improvements in the performance of the car too, so it shows we’re on the right trajectory.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2022 F1 season Browse all 2022 F1 season articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net

#F1 #Aston Martin’s potential feels very similar to Red Bull’s early days – Fallows | 2022 F1 season #Formula 1

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gothhabiba · 6 months

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It's striking how frequently you can take a Zionist claim, exactly reverse it, and arrive at something much closer to the truth.

Zionists claim that the majority of Palestinian land was unproductive, that Palestinians were neglecting the agricultural potential of the land, and that the مشاع (musha') system of shared landholding (wherein plots were swapped around within a large family unit rather than belonging to one owner and their descendants in perpetuity) held back the land's potential—because the "Arabs" (of course, naturally selfish) would not want to make long-term improvements or allow standard maintenance (e.g. letting it lie fallow) of land if they could not expect the sole long-term benefit from doing so.

I expect that this system, like all systems, had its disadvantages, but Palestinians were demonstrably making long-term changes to the land which their whole unit would benefit from. Terracing, for example, must be accepted to be a long-term project which does not merely immediately extract the maximum yield from the soil year after year?

Meanwhile, while Israelis have invented and instituted developments in agriculture (drip irrigation and irrigation with wastewater as tools of water management, for example), these developments are ones that they have actively prevented Palestinians from making themselves by depriving them of land, water, electricity, capital, the ability to import or export anything, or anything else you would need to technologically innovate anything, since the late 19th century—

—and Israeli methods of agriculture often fall into the ethos of "immediately extract the maximum yield from the soil year after year," with nitrate pollution from their constant use of fertilizers poisoning well water (mostly to the detriment of Palestinians), pollution of soil with salt buildup, use of pesticides leading to high rates of breast cancer, overpumping aquifiers and causing them to fill with brackish water in pursuit of water-hungry crops that should not be grown in the south of Palestine, &c.

And meanwhile the agricultural methods that many Palestinians are now forced to use frequently approach "only think about this season's yield," because they have no faith that they will be able to reap the benefits of their investments (constantly being bombed and driven from their lands and having their farming equipment banned or destroyed) and because they cannot let their land lie fallow for a moment without Israel using that as a pretext to "legally" expropriate it. Zionism is what creates these habits.

Yet even in these adverse conditions, Palestinians use eggshells and fish excrement as natural fertilizers, grow plants without soil, return to the use of historical crops, &c...

#Palestine #Israel #Zionism

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falcoworks · 8 months

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Day 4 -- Rodent

Goreberries were a common forage in the Fallows during the warmer seasons, so named because of the deep red juice contained within the tiny fruits.

#rodent #drawlloween #Drawlloween 2023 #Halloween art challenge #scribble

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najia-cooks · 6 months

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[ID: Sweet potatoes with black, charred skin on a decorative plate. One has been opened to show bright orange flesh, sprinkled with sugar. End ID]

بطاطا حلوة مشوية / Batata hiluwa mashwiyya (Roasted sweet potatoes)

Sweet potatoes are considered a traditional and nostalgic food in Palestine—a gift from the land, a seasonal delicacy, a potentially profitable crop, "red gold." Every fall and winter, as they are grilled in taboon ovens throughout Gaza, their smell fills the air.

This recipe uses a method of preparation common in rural Palestine, which applies direct heat to char the potatoes; the black, crackly skin is then peeled off, leaving tender, steaming, sweet flesh with a roasted aroma. The peeled sweet potato is eaten on its own, or sprinkled with sugar.

The recent history of sweet potatoes in Gaza is a microcosm of Israel's economic control of the region during that time. Though they grow well in Gaza's soil, they are a risky commitment for its farmers, as the seeds or seedlings must be imported from Israel at considerable expense (about 40 shekels, or $10, per plantlet), and they need to be weeded every day and irrigated every other day. Water for irrigation is scarce in Gaza, as Israel drains and contaminates much of the supply.

Nevertheless, the crop would be a profitable one if Gazan farmers were allowed to export it. In the shmita year of 2014, for the first time since the Israeli military's deadly 51-day invasion two months prior, restrictions briefly eased to allow Gazans to export some agricultural products to Europe; the first shipment contained 30 tons of sweet potatoes. However, an estimated 90% of the sweet potato crop was at that time unsuitable for export, having been damaged by Israeli shrapnel. The Gazan Ministry of Agriculture estimated that damages of this kind cost the agricultural sector about 550 million USD during this year.

Gazan economist Maher al-Taba’a holds that Israel temporarily allowing export of a token amount of sweet potatoes “is nothing more than media propaganda which is meant to confuse international audiences" by giving the impression that the siege on Gaza was looser than it had been before the 2014 ceasefire agreement; meanwhile, the number of allowed exports had actually decreased since before the invasion occurred. Gazan farmers, in fact, were not even allowed to export produce to Palestinians in the West Bank until 2017.

The next shmita year (an agricultural sabbath during which ultra-Orthodox Jews allow their fields to lie fallow) began in September of 2021, around the same time as the beginning of the sweet potato harvest. In anticipation of the shmita year, and in keeping with the trickle of Gazan exports that had been allowed into Israel in the intervening years, many farmers had planted more than they otherwise would have. But Israel delayed accepting the imports, leading many farmers to throw away rotting produce, or to sell their produce in the local market for far lower prices than they had been expecting.

Israel's habit of closing off Gaza's exports arbitrarily and without notice recurred during the harvest season of 2022. When Israeli former MK Yaakov Litzman called on Minister of Agriculture and Rural Development Oded Forer to import sweet potatoes from Gaza due to a shortage of the produce in Israel, Forer refused, citing Israeli soldiers whom Palestinian resistance fighters had taken hostage as rationale for his decision. Other officials were surprised at the linking of an agricultural matter to a political one.

Farmers had no choice but to enter the harvest season hoping that the decision would be reversed and that their time, labor, money, and scarce water resources would not go to waste. With these last-minute decisions that cause Gazan farmers to be unable to fulfill their contracts, Israel damages the future viability of Gazan exports to European markets.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord and donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund.

Equipment:

A fire, wood-burning oven, gas stove, or broiler

A baking sheet

Ingredients:

Sweet potatoes. Choose a variety with red or orange skin and orange flesh, such as garnet or jewel.

Sugar, cinnamon, date syrup, or tahina, to serve.

Instructions:

1. Wash sweet potatoes. Place them at the bottom of a taboon oven, or on a baking sheet or griddle laid over a cooking fire or gas burner. You may also place them on a baking sheet or cast-iron pan inside an oven with a broiler setting.

2. Turn the gas burner on medium-high, or the broiler on low. Heat the sweet potatoes, occasionally rotating them, until their skin is blistered and blackened in multiple places and they are tender all the way through.

3. Remove potatoes and allow them to cool slightly. Slice each potato open lengthwise, or peel away its skin, and eat the interior.

Roasted sweet potatoes may be eaten on their own, or sprinkled with sugar or cinnamon-sugar, or drizzled with date syrup, tahina, chocolate sauce, etc.

#sweet potatoes #gluten free #Palestinian #cooking

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duckdotcom · 10 months

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ah shit I accidentally hit the fallow button that's so embarrassing. now my fields will lie barren for yet another season

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samantha-rae-velcher · 7 months

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Frozen Treat

Jschlatt x Fem reader

Requested by: none

Warnings: Smut! Swearing, teasing.

A/n: 18+ NSFW! If you don't like the warnings please don't read! PLEASE KEEP MY COMMENT SECTION AGGRESSION FREE!

Tag: @goldenstarofthunderclan ❤️

@ogelizasoot 🩷 @youngcreatorlady 💜

___

Y/n and Schlatt were in their kitchen filming themselves making different flavors of ice cream, when she pulled out a bottle of Gatorade.

"Fruit punch Gatorade!" She cheered. "This is gonna be the first item and flavor of ice cream.

"Gatorade?"

"Yeah, baby. I didn't wanna go too crazy on the first one, like you and Ted did with the fuckin Cheeto dust. And no snorting this, I don't have a crisp twenty on me,"

They pulled out the Ice cream maker and a bowl, Y/ n poured in the heavy cream, Gatorade, Sugar, and egg yolks. She mixed it together and poured it into the ice cream maker, clicking the power button.

"How long did you guys have it in there?" She asked.

"About an hour."

Y/n rested her elbows on the counter and leaned on it, Schlatt stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

"I have an idea on how to pass that time." He whispered, his hand running down between her thighs.

"Not now, J."

"What?" He asked. "Since when do you say no to me?

Y/n tumed around, pressing both hands against his chest, "We're filming, not fucking,"

"I can edit it out."

"Nooo!" She said in a sarcastic tone. "I thought you'd fuck me on the counter, then leave it in."

Schlatt chuckled, watching her step past him and go into the livingroom. He took one last look at the ice cream before fallowing her, they plopped down onto the couch and snuggled together. Schlatt turned on the TV and switched it to something they both felt like watching. A devious smirk spread over Y/n's face as her hand slowly made it's way across his thigh, and down to his cock. She began palming him through his sweats before he took her hand. moving it away and holding it against his chest.

"We're filming not fucking, remember?" He asked.

Y/n looked around, "Do you see a camera facing us."

Schlatt smiled, leaning close so his lips were touching her ear. "You're gonna regret pushing me away in the kitchen."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, causing her to blush and snuggle her face into his neck.

___

1hr later

"Well we're back!" Y/n said, scooping ice cream into two bowls. "And it's done...I think, it sure looks done."

Schlatt sat on his stool next to her and grabbed one of the bowls, "Let's see what this tastes like. By the way, she picked Gatorade.

"Yeah, it's better than fuckin spinach and hot Cheetos!"

Schlatt nodded, taking a spoon full of ice cream and savoring the flavor once it was in his mouth.

Y/n shrugged, setting down her bowl.

"It's good. It wouldn't be my go-to. I like that it's not over powered with flavor."

Schlatt nodded again, "Yeah, it's alright. Nothing special."

"Now you pick a flavor."

He closed his eyes and pulled a paper bag out from under the sink, taking the new flavor out. The two of them groaned when they saw it was chicken seasoning from ramen.

This is gonna be fuckin gross." Schlatt said.

"You never know till you try it."

Y/n grabbed the large bowl off the counter and brought it over to the sink. As she began to rinse it off, Schlatt stepped behind her and slid his hands up her sides, making his way to her breasts.

Y/n whimpered when she felt his thumb brush against her nipple, and his lips trail hot kisses down her neck.

"Babe-"

"You tell me to stop and I'll bring you upstairs, tie you to the bed and fuck you till you cry."

"...Stop"

Schlatt pulled away, grabbing her arm and taking her upstairs. Y/n let him push her onto the bed, tie her down and watched as he began unbuckling his belt.

"You didn't wear a bra, full knowing i'd touch you. You wanted this to happen, didn't you?"

Y/n simply bit her lip and kept watching as he slid his belt from its loops, wrapping it around her neck so it was not too tight and not too loose.

Schlatt smirked, pulling her forward with the belt.

"I asked you a question, pretty girl." He whispered.

"Yes, daddy. I wanted you to touch me."

A shiver ran down her spine as Schlatt slid his hand up her shirt and cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger.

"Yeah, you like that huh?" He whispered, watching as arched her back into his touch.

Schlatt pushed her back against the bed, climbing on top of her and pulling his cock from his jeans. He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching her ear and he rubbed his cock against her thigh.

"You want this, baby girl?"

"Mhm...y-yes please."

"What nice manners for such a pretty little whore."

Schlatt pulled her shorts and panties down he legs and threw them across the room, he lined himself up with her entrance and planted a kiss against her jaw.

"Hold on to me, baby."

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him push in and immediately begin thrusting hard. Schlatt held the back of her neck as her head was buried in his shoulder, the sound of her whimper everytime he hit that special spot drove him crazy.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He growled.

Schlatt suddenly flipped her over, pressing her head down into the mattress. He pushed back in and pulled on the belt that was still buckled around her neck.

"You like that, princess? You like it when daddy uses this little pussy?"

"M-mhm."

"Lemme hear you say it." He whispered.

"Y-yes, daddy. You fuck me so well."

An arrogant smirk spread over his face as he took out his phone, he when to messages and clicked on Ted's name. Schlatt turned on the voice recorder as his hand slid under her and began rubbing her clit.

"You want me to go harder?" He asked.

Y/n was nearly sobbing at how ruthless his thrusts were, it felt so damn good that she could barely speak.

"I- fuck, J. Y-yes I need more, p-please don't stop."

Schlatt chuckled, his pace speeding up. The phone picking up the slap of skin on skin, Y/n's moans and Schlatt's grunts.

He clicked send, waiting for Ted to reply.

___

Ted was sitting on the couch, munching popcorn and watching TV. His phone binged and without hesitation, he picked it up and clicked play on the voice message.

"You want me to go harder?"

Schlatt's voice asked, fallowed by Y/n moaning. Ted's jaw dropped when he heard just how fast Schlatt was going, his imagination running wild and wondering what she looks like, tears running down her face and her body shaking from overstimulation.

He started thinking of what to say back...

___

"She sounds so pretty." Ted texted.

Schlatt could feel his orgasm approaching, his legs started to shake and his thrust became sloppy.

Y/n cried out as her liquid ran down his cock, pushing him over the edge right after her. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck.

"You're so beautiful, baby girl." He whispered, peppering her neck in soft kisses.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, both of them trying to catch their breath.

"J."

"Mhm?"

"W-who did you send that to?"

Schlatt chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to her collarbone. "What are you talking about?"

"It was Ted wasn't it?"

He smirked sucking a dark spot into her skin, making Y/n moan.

"Yeah, he says you sound pretty."

"J, we have to get back to the video." Y/n's voice came out shaky, the feeling of his lips trailing feather light kisses down her stomach made her shiver.

"It can wait, princess. Daddy just wants to taste you."

THE END ❤️

Hope you enjoyed

Reblogs are welcome 🤗

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thedegu · 11 months

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Tag yourself, what you bring when you go out:

Bard: Alongside the necessities, you always bring either a musical instrument and/or a full makeup set. You never know when a party might start! Your bag is either $2 or $200. You make it work either way. Essentials? eh, if they're in there, they're in there.

Barbarian: phone wallet keys. Pants have pockets for a reason. If you're feeling spicy, you'll have a multi tool on your Keychain

Cleric: At LEAST one first aid kit, two lip balms snacks and drinks, bug spray and sunscreen for you freinds who forgot to put it on. Your purse weighs as much as a neutron star, but at least it's cute!

Druid: same as cleric, but you, instead of a purse, use one of those huge reusable grocery bags. More emphasis on snacks than the first aid kit (someone else will probably have that coveted, right?) But you might also have some loose dog treats in the bottom of your bag, so pay attention when snacking.

Fighter: You carry a backpack or over-the-shoulder duffel, but your phone wallet and other essentials are kept in your pockets because it's easier to access. What do you keep in your bag? Well, at least one knife and assorted tools and emergency supplies. You keep on forgetting to put in that first aid kit, but then you'd probably need to take out that 75 piece screwdriver kit, which, tbh is more useful in more situations.

Rainger: Look, you HAVE a bag, or... had one... you just leave it at home more often than you remember it. Look, you don't really need your phone when you're on a hike, right? And the trail mix in your pocket should be enough, too. Or you have a fanny pack that is more akin to a benign tumor. There is no in between.

Rogue: Just.... so many pockets. Like, sewing extra pockets into the inside of your jacket. Like "How did you fit that sub sandwich inside of there" pockets. Like you somehow have all of the tools you need for any reason on your person at any time without a bag amount of pocket. When you're fully suited up, your clothes work as a weighted blanket. It's honestly impressive and slightly terrifying.

Paladin: Like.... a bag?? Over the shoulder with RFID protection. Nothing too fancy either, phone, wallet, keys. Snacks and a small tube of sunscreen and maybe a hand warmer in the winter. Just get the job done, if you need something more you'll take it when you need it.

Wizard: You got the backpack on sale. That's what matters to you. Never mind how it makes your back hurt or that it's falling to pieces. It holds your books and laptop and.... ah, hm, everything else you need. Oh! It does have a cool wallet compartment... just let me... oh, it's so hard to get to give me one second... really, I do have the cash for this coffee. I swear one... oh, there goes my thesaurus.

Warlock: bags are meant as a fashion statement over their utility. Yeah, I can only fit my phone or my wallet in it, but I look good doing it, so what does it matter. Black is always in season, and so are chunky boots and spiked collars. Well it's not like you'll be going out without your freinds, you might as well have them hold your things, they honestly shouldn't trust you with your own credit cards anyway so it's a win-win

Sorcerer: You have one of those electronic bags that fallows you, and you've never looked back. Yes, it might be risky. Yes, taking a full luggage bag everywhere is a bit excessive. But if it does get stolen, the glitter bomb inside will make everything worth it. Hm? Where do you keep essentials? Oh, front pants pocket and brest pocket nbd.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #tag game #tag meme #bag #purse

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 28 days

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The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?”

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times.

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion.

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep.

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow.

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well.

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning.

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together.

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time.

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure.

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away.

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.”

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.”

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide.

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later.

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good.

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp.

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now.

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space.

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone.

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home.

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured.

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside.

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!”

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him.

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it.

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm.

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly.

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer.

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed.

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly.

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss.

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything.

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully.

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door.

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice..

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard.

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath.

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.”

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.”

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly.

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had.

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to.

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working.

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working.

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful.

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet.

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen.

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together.

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso.

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her.

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean fan fic series #endverse

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