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tetheredfeathers · 28 days

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A little something I wrote inspired by this line.

Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents, the way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods.

She always brought him something from the woods.

The first time she brought him a single dandelion.

It had been a long winter, and the sun had only begun to peek through the cold shadows. It had been a good hunt today, with 2 rabbits and a squirrel shot right through the eyes. Her short dark hair tickled her neck as she practically skipped back home.

That's when she saw it – the first spring flower, a lone dandelion lurking between the wet shadows. She scurried towards it and quickly plucked it, almost afraid it would run away if she wasn't fast enough.

"Peetaaa," her voice rang through the house as she peeled off her shoes and hung her father's hunting jacket on the hooks Peeta had installed for her.

"In here," Peeta called from the kitchen.

She found him all serious, wrinkle between his eyebrows as he kneaded some dough. She skirted towards him wanting kiss the lines between his eyes.

"Hi, bread boy," she whispered sweetly before kissing the frosting off his lips.

"Hi," he said in between kisses

"Mhm, vanilla." Katniss breathed licking his lips.

"Here, try this," he said, spreading a thick layer of icing on a cinnamon roll and handing it her.

"Mhmm, so good. Thank you baby," she said between huge mouthfuls.

"I got you something from town today," Peeta sang, reaching into his pockets.

"Show me, show me," Katniss almost begged.

"You know Thom's little sister, Darlene," she nodded. "Yeah, well, she was really happy with her birthday cake and wanted to give me something in return."

He pulled out a long strip of transparent lace.

Katniss' face broke into a huge smile. "A ribbon? What does she think you're 12 to go around wearing ribbons?" she teased.

"Be nice, Katniss, she's only five. I doubt she knows how to gift a grown man," Peeta said.

"You do know she has a crush on you, right?" Katniss said, grabbing another cinnamon roll, stuffing her mouth once again.

"Who doesn't?" Peeta sassed, swaying his hips.

"I don't," Katniss rolled her eyes.

"Oh really?" he eyed her mischievously before grabbing her arms, leaving all but an inch between their sugary lips. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

She shuddered involuntarily. Even after a year of being with him, just being near him made her weak in the knees. His warm hands slid down her arms before gently turning her around so that her back faced him. Slowly, he brought his hands up to her hair, bunching half her hair into a ponytail and tying the flimsy lace into a bow.

She turned around, beaming in his arms, peering into those blue eyes.

"Wow, birdie, look at yourself."

She blushed bright red before pulling out her dandelion from underneath the table.

"For you," she said shyly, holding it right under his face.

"Thank you, birdie," he said, delicately taking it from her hands as if it would slip from his grasp like water.

Her blush deepened. She loved it when he called her that. It reminded her of her father, that he was still a part of her, and just like him, she still sang wild and free. A bird that's what she was.

"You're my dandelion in the spring, you know that, right?" she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, burying her mouth in long, warm kiss.

After that, she brought him something every day. Sometimes it would be tufts of dill or rye. Other times, she would bring him shiny stones that reminded her of the color of his eyes. Sometimes a feather or a leaf, but mostly she brought him flowers. She brought him wild onions because it reminded her of the day she broke her heart. She brought him daisies because they were as pure and white like his soul. She brought him sunflowers because he was her sun and followed him everywhere he went.

He kept a whole shelf dedicated to her gifts and pressed the flowers inside his notebook. It helped remind him that all was not lost on the more difficult days when she could not get out of bed or talk to him.

And on the night they conceived their first child, she whispered into his arms.

"I'm going to call her Dandelion."

#everlark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #thg #thg mockingjay #post mockingjay #canon compliant #fluff #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #the hunger games peeta #thg series #thg fanfiction #catching fire #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games fanfiction

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thereareeyesinsidethetrees · 7 months

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i know most people really don’t like roadside attraction but it’s very interesting to me from a biological standpoint

does the spider peoples’ venom work like normal spider venom? why do they have teeth when they clearly drink from their prey just like actual spiders? is their human teeth just part of their disguise? is their human form just a disguise, a form of mimicry to lure in prey? do they just prefer to drink their meals?

does the acid darlene spits in stan’s face replace venom, or is it there in conjunction with venom? is it just venom that she’s able to spit as well as inject and stan called it acid because he simply didn’t recognize it as venom?

if she had actually bitten stan, would his insides have been liquified? would he have been paralyzed? what kind of acid and/or venom does she have, that it can blind someone, but only temporarily?

how does the change between forms work?? is there a trigger for it (especially considering that darlene seems to be able to pull the flesh of her human form back)?

how did they evolve in a way where it seems that humans have become their primary food source? or did they used to hunt large animals in general, and they simply saw an opportunity in creating a literal tourist trap? are there different species of spider people?

do they hatch from eggs? do they do the hatchling thing (whatever spider hatchling thing you just thought of is probably what i meant)?

i have a lot of thoughts about the spider people and half of them involve stan getting slurped like a capri sun

#gravity falls

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esoterium · 7 months

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top 100 characters statistical "which character" is similar to yours personality quiz

**picking five characters i know to add to the list while i take a couple!!*

Nomi Marks (Sense8): 83%

Marianne (Portrait of a Lady): 83%

Inej Ghafa (Shadow and Bone): 83%

Salvatore Romano (Mad Men): 82%

F o x M u l d e r (T h e X - F i l e s): 82%

Torvi (Vikings): 82%

Baby (Baby Driver): 82%

Ally Maine (A Star Is Born): 82%

Marie Kreutz (The Bourne Identity): 81%

Riley Blue (Sense8): 81%

Elisa Esposito (The Shape of Water): 81%

Buck Vu (The OA): 81%

Alice Cullen (Twilight): 80%

Abby Sciuto (NCIS): 80%

Ben Hargreeves (TUA): 80%

Andy Dufresne (The Shawshank Redemption): 80%

Floki (Vikings): 80%

Rogue (X-Men): 80%

Amanita Caplan (Sense8): 80%

Juliana Crain (The Man in the HC): 80%

Ola Nyman (Sex Ed): 80%

Willow Rosenberg (Buffy): 79%

Neo (The Matrix): 79%

Ariadne (Inception): 79%

Guinan (Star Trek: TNG): 79%

W i l l G r a h a m (H a n n i b a l): 79%

Bonnie Bennett (TVD): 79%

Monica Dutton (Yellowstone): 79%

Sam Button (The Perks): 79%

Frenchie (The Boys): 79%

Robin Buckley (ST): 79%

Marianne Sheridan (Normal People): 79%

W a n d a M a x i m o f f (WandaVision): 79%

Violet Parr (The Incredibles): 79%

Luna Lovegood (HP): 78%

Nymphadora Tonks (HP): 78%

Trinity (The Matrix): 78%

Jasper Hale (Twilight): 78%

Toni Topaz (Riverdale): 78%

Kalinda Sharma (The Good Wife): 78%

Han Lue (Fast & Furious): 78%

Amélie Poulain (Amélie): 78%

Maeve Wiley (Sex Education): 78%

Cassie Thomas (Promising Young Woman): 78%

River Tam (Firefly): 77%

Omar Little (The Wire): 77%

Morpheus (The Matrix): 77%

William H. 'Shakespeare' Hill (This Is Us): 77%

Jonah Byrde (Ozark): 77%

Chris Washington (Get Out): 77%

Lane Kim (Gilmore Girls): 77%

Céline (Before Sunrise): 77%

Ada Shelby (Peaky Blinders): 77%

Jonathan Byers (ST): 77%

Benjamin Button (TCCBB): 77%

Heloise (Portrait of a Lady): 77%

Lily Iglehart (Sex Ed): 77%

Naomi Nagata (The Expanse): 77%

Hester Prynne (The Scarlet Letter): 77%

Remus Lupin (HP): 76%

Maeve Millay (Westworld): 76%

Daniel Jackson (Stargate SG-1): 76%

Rosalind Walker (CAOS): 76%

Storm (X-Men): 76%

Hernando Fuentes (Sense8): 76%

Dr. Sean Maguire (Good Will Hunting): 76%

Mozzie (White Collar): 76%

Kinsey Locke (Locke & Key): 76%

J o h n W i c k (John Wick): 76%

Ekko (Arcane): 76%

Albus Dumbledore (HP): 75%

Inara Serra (Firefly): 75%

D'Angelo Barksdale (The Wire): 75%

Janis Ian (Mean Girls): 75%

Damian Leigh (Mean Girls): 75%

Dom Cobb (Inception): 75%

Michael Scofield (Prison Break): 75%

Jughead Jones (Riverdale): 75%

Darlene (Mr. Robot): 75%

Wyldstyle (The Lego Movie): 75%

Nairobi (Money Heist): 75%

Penelope (The Odyssey): 75%

Aunt Polly (Peaky Blinders): 75%

Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds): 75%

Joyce Byers (ST): 75%

Will Byers (ST): 75%

Angela Montenegro (Bones): 75%

Maleficent (Maleficent): 75%

Kang Sae-byeok (Squid Game): 75%

Jules Vaughn (Euphoria): 75%

Viktor (Arcane): 75%

Suzuha Amane (Steins;Gate): 75%

Natalie (Yellowjackets): 75%

Jyn Erso (Rogue One): 75%

S i r i u s B l a c k (HP): 74%

Elizabeth Bennet (Pride & Prejudice): 74%

Black Widow (MCU): 74%

Paul Smecker (Boondock Saints): 74%

Ciri (The Witcher): 74%

Kurt Hummel (Glee): 73%

#one from the writer's desk (ooc)#this was fun!

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xirayn · 9 months

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Stonathan Week Day 4: Fantasy AU - Jonathan's Great Aunt Darlene told him stories about their ancestors becoming ravens to guide warriors who fought as wolves, but they were just the ramblings of a mentally ill woman - right?

written by @xirayn

@aibhlynn and I do have a screenplay for an urban fantasy DnD inspired AU that can basically be summed up as 'Jonathan accidentally takes Steve as his (still human) animal companion to save his life', but I was unable to edit any of it in time, so have a ficlet

I'm on the Hunt, I'm After You

Getting driven from his pack meant a lean year. Hunting down large prey became scavenging, grabbing desperate mouthfuls from a carcass before the grizzly that had come moved in on the wolf's former territory arrives to chase him off. He trots through the brush in search of a meal. On occasion, he is quick enough to grab a rabbit or other small game, but his strength is better suited to harrying moose or holding down an elk while his pack tears into it.

The scratchy call of a raven catches his attention. The black bird peers at him from a fallen log, then swoops a bit ahead and calls again. He follows until the raven is standing atop a deer carcass at the bottom of a small drop. It's neck is twisted and some bones broken from the fall. When he tears into it, however, there are still traces of warmth in it's bowels.

The raven watches as the wolf eats his fill. Eventually, he swoops down to take his pound of flesh and the wolf keeps watch in turn.

Then, in the dreamy gold of the setting sun, the raven looks at the wolf and says, "You need me, so why haven't you come to me?"

Steve wakes up from a different reality. He feels the satisfaction of a full stomach and the safety of another watching his back. It fades as he wakes up more to be replaced with a longing he has felt his entire life. He knows what it means now.

He goes to the Byers' house the next day. Jonathan seems to be waiting for him.

"I had a weird dream last night," he starts awkwardly.

Jonathan nods in understanding and steps outside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, they don't do more than look at one another.

"Me too," Jonathan finally says. His eyes go to the woods. "My great aunt use to tell me stories from 'the old country'." He laughs softly. "I never actually learned where that was. They were basically rambling tales about us being descended from druids or some nonsense. Our ancestors would become ravens to guide warriors who fought as wolves. She said it was a deep bond that kept the warriors from losing their humanity."

Steve swallows. Something deep inside of him similar to instinct knew it wasn't nonsense.

"Did she say anything else about it?" he asks. He isn't surprised when Jonathan shakes his head.

"Dad didn't like us visiting her and Mom tried to keep her from sounding too crazy. I was pretty young, too. Will doesn't remember her at all."

Jonathan steps closer. His head is bowed slightly is the way he does to make himself seem small and non-threatening. It irritates Steve, and for the first time he realizes that feeling isn't directed at Jonathan, it is directed at everyone who has ever made Jonathan felt he needed to be less.

Steve reaches out. He tucks some hair behind Jonathan's ear and moves forward. A deep bond. It formed the night he went back and saved Jonathan from the demogorgon, when Steve picked up the weapon made by Jonathan's hand. He answered the call of the raven and made himself the wolf, if that hadn't been what he was all along.

Steve ducks his head to catch try and catch Jonathan's eye.

"I need you," he states, "so I came to you."

Jonathan's gaze meets his suddenly. He searches for any hint of uncertainty only to close the distance between them when he doesn't find it.

The embrace and kiss that follows embeds the bond impossibly deep in their psyches.

That night, the wolf runs through a field of wildflowers. There are howls in the distance, young wolves looking for a protector, but he doesn't hurry to reach them. For now, his raven is all the company he needs.

#stonathan #stonathanweek2023 #steve harrington #jonathan byers

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missshezz · 1 year

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Title: Omens

Rating: Teens and up (T for language)

Warnings: None apply

Word Count: 1100

Tags: Season 1, Winchesters x Reader, no romance, YOU is reader, Sam and Dean happen along to save reader, Original Supernatural monster, angst, drama, hunt of the week type story

Summary: You think Lady Luck is simply being a vindictive bitch when you experience a rush of bad luck until a freak encounter with Sam and Dean

If luck were a lady, well, she was a real bitch.

Why else would everything that happened that night, happen?

You tried to shrug it off initially.

Shit happened as your old man liked saying.

Plus, some things were just freak occurrences.

Microwaves go out.

Pipes bust.

Roofs leak.

Electronics die.

Cars break down.

All on the same day, though?

That was a bit much for even you to believe.

You rolled with the punches, though. Took it all in stride. Wasn’t like you had much choice really. Thought things would improve once you got to work.

Oh, boy were you wrong.

So, so terribly wrong.

Your key broke off in the padlock on your locker.

The ink ran out of your pen.

You dropped a tray of glasses.

One tray you could say oops.

Three?

No.

Luckily, your boss didn’t pitch the fit you expected he would.

“Shit happens, kid,” was all he said before he went back to his nightly poker game. “Cost to replace ‘em comes outta your paycheck.”

As if you could afford the deduction.

You ate it, though, because twenty bucks for a new set of glasses was far better than being unemployed and homeless.

Luckily, the bar was hopping that night. Playoffs and holidays always netted you extra dough. You picked up some serious change from a group of your regulars celebrating one of them retiring from their shit job at the steel mill and another becoming a first-time grandpa.

The tall, reed-thin man seated in one corner was the only other downside to your night.

You encountered a lot of weirdoes in your time at the bar but this guy took the cake.

He reminded you of Monsieur D'Arque from Beauty and the Beast.

Stringy black hair framed a pockmarked face with a scar zigzagging from the corner of thin lips to a pointy chin.

His eyes were what stuck with you the most.

They were an almost hypnotic shade of gold.

You shuddered whenever you passed his table.

You couldn’t refuse to serve him, though.

Not after you dropped ten more glasses, broke four bottles of beer, and sliced your finger open while cutting limes.

Closing time came and the bar emptied.

“How you getting home?” Darlene asked as you cleaned up. “Your brother giving you a ride?”

“Tommy left yesterday for school.”

“Forgot he left.” She grabbed a rag and started drying the glasses you washed. “I can ask Daria if we can drop you at your place.”

“That’s going out of your way.”

“Daria won’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you said. “But I’ll walk. I don’t live far.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Positive.”

You finished up and exited the bar with Darlene a half hour later.

“You sure you don’t want me to ask Daria to drop you at your place?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, well, night then.”

“Night.”

You spot an old car as you cross the parking lot and figure somebody else encountered Lady Luck.

It was a nice looking car, too. Shiny black body, chrome grill, shiny aluminum wheels.

Someone clearly loved it.

Making it strange they’d leave it in a parking lot instead of getting it towed home.

You hoped it’d still be there when they returned for it in the morning.

And be in one piece.

A chill snaked its way down your back despite the night being unseasonably warm. You reach into your pocket for the can of mace you carried for any sort of situations and quickened your pace. A figure came around the corner just as you reached it. Your instincts shouted at you to run but your feet refused to obey.

The man stepped into the light and you recognized him as Monsieur D'Arque.

“Good evening, my dear.” Unease slithered through you as a bone-chilling grin crept over his face. “A pleasant evening for a stroll, is it not?”

If luck be a lady, than she was a royally vindictive bitch, you decided as you backed away.

There wasn’t anywhere to go, though.

All the businesses around you were closed for the night.

The closest police station was over a mile away.

Firehouse twice that.

Still, you had to try.

Lady Luck wasn’t going to win that easily, after all.

“Where do you think you are going, my dear?”

“Not where you’re goin’, fugly!”

The sharp report of a gun blasted by your ear. Your heart slammed against your ribcage and your breath wheezed out from between lips that felt like they were frozen together as a strange yellow ooze seeped outward from a small, black hole in the middle of Monsieur D'Arque’s forehead.

Shock, agony, and rage twisted his face into a gruesome mask. He took a step towards you, long, bony fingers outstretched, but you were pulled out of reach by a tall, shaggy-haired man you remembered arguing with another earlier that evening.

“You’re safe now,” he told you as Monsieur D'Arque exploded into a cloud of black dust. “He can’t hurt you.”

“What… what just happened?” you managed around the ball of ice lodged in your throat. “Who was he?”

“Doctor Daniel Luckhaven.”

“Luckhaven?” A frown creased your brow as you recalled seeing that name on a plaque at the local hospital. “He died in 1891.”

“He discovered a way to extend his life.”

“How?”

“By drinking the blood of people who have experienced a rush of bad luck.”

Not exactly the weirdest stuff you’ve heard living in this town.

You heard stranger shit whenever Milly Jenkins went off her meds or Lewis Carmichael tied one on.

Still, even you found yourself a bit weirded out by this.

“Shoulda taken that other chick up on her offer of a ride,” the man with the gun rasped as he joined you. “Wouldn’t have almost become Liquid Delight.”

“Dean,” the shaggy-haired one hissed.

“It’s the truth, Sammy.”

“Sam and Dean?” You looked first at the man sliding the gun he used into the waistband of his jeans before angling your head back to look at the one who pulled you to safety. “Are you related to John Winchester?”

“He’s our father.”

“That’s why you’re in town,” you said as the pieces all came together. “You’re hunters. Like him.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Should’ve guessed.” At Sam’s inquisitive look, you added, “I always have a run of bad luck right after your dad comes through town.”

“He was here?” Hope added flecks of gold to Dean’s green eyes. “When?”

“Yesterday.”

Which was right about the time your streak of bad luck started.

Luck wasn’t a lady, after all.

It was a bad omen.

Named John Winchester.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #Sam x reader #winchesters x reader #no romance #just friends #platonic #you is reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #spn gifs #gifs #supernatural gifs #flashing gifs #scorp writes fan fiction

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raydiationpoisoning · 1 year

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Spoilers ahead for Gravity Falls and The Magnus Archives.

I don't think I've seen anyone do this before, but I could be wrong. The thought came to my mind of a Gravity Falls and Magnus Archives au. Naturally, Ford is an avatar of the Eye with Weirdmageddon being the Mass Ritual. Dipper serves the Eye knowingly or otherwise, searching for answers while feeling watched. And Mabel was taken by the Lonely after she fears losing Dipper to Ford. Fiddleford has been marked by the Spiral as he fears going insane, he forces himself to forget the horrors he's seen. I'm not certain if or what Stanley serves, but I feel he's been marked by the Web after his encounter with Darlene in the episode "Roadside Attraction". Gideon definitely serves one of the Powers, but I'm not sure which one yet. Wendy strikes me as Hunt. She has hunted and been hunted. This is just an idea and I might make more for this au. I enjoy the thought very much and it's been especially fun to illustrate.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #tma #the magnus archives

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docrotten · 2 months

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BEYOND THE TIME BARRIER (1960) – Episode 171 – Decades Of Horror: The Classic Era

“Sterile?” Yes, sterile! And they weren’t talking about surgical instruments. Join this episode’s Grue-Crew – Chad Hunt, Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff, Doc Rotten, and Jeff Mohr – as they blast off to the distant future of… 2024? The movie is Beyond the Time Barrier (1960).

Decades of Horror: The Classic Era Episode 171 – Beyond the Time Barrier (1960)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

ANNOUNCEMENT Decades of Horror The Classic Era is partnering with THE CLASSIC SCI-FI MOVIE CHANNEL, THE CLASSIC HORROR MOVIE CHANNEL, and WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL Which all now include video episodes of The Classic Era! Available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, Online Website. Across All OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop. https://classicscifichannel.com/; https://classichorrorchannel.com/; https://wickedhorrortv.com/

In 1960, a military test pilot is caught in a time warp that propels him to the year 2024 where he finds a plague has sterilized the world’s population.

Director: Edgar G. Ulmer

Writer: Arthur C. Pierce

Produced by: Robert Clarke (produced by); Robert L. Madden (executive producer); John Miller (executive producer)

Casting by: Baruch Lumet (uncredited), Sidney Lumet (uncredited)

Music by: Darrell Calker

Production Design by: Ernst Fegté

Makeup Department:

Corinne Daniel (hairdresser) (as Corrine Daniel)

Jack P. Pierce (makeup creator) (NOT the mutants!)

Special Effects by: Roger George

Costumer: Jack Masters

Selected Cast:

Robert Clarke as Maj. William Allison

Darlene Tompkins as Princess Trirene

Arianne Ulmer as Capt. Markova (as Arianne Arden)

Vladimir Sokoloff as The Supreme

Stephen Bekassy as Gen. Karl Kruse

John Van Dreelen as Dr. Bourman (as John van Dreelen)

Boyd ‘Red’ Morgan as Captain (as Red Morgan)

Ken Knox as Col. Marty Martin

Don Flournoy as Mutant

Tom Ravick as Mutant

Neil Fletcher as Air Force Chief

Jack Herman as Dr. Richman

James ‘Ike’ Altgens as Secretary Lloyd Patterson (as James Altgens)

William Shephard as Gen. York (as William Shapard)

John Loughney as Gen. Lamont

Russ Marker as Col. Curtis (as Russell Marker)

Arthur C. Pierce as Mutant Escaping from Jail (uncredited)

Malcolm Thompson as Guard (uncredited)

While testing the latest and greatest airship just above the atmosphere, Major William Allison (Robert Clarke) accidentally travels to the apocalyptic future of… 2024! Little did they know. Beyond the Time Barrier (1960) is a low-budget, sci-fi B-picture from director Edgar G. Ulmer (The Black Cat, 1934; Detour, 1945) and writer Arthur C. Pierce (The Cosmic Man, 1959; The Human Duplicators, 1965). To Chad’s dismay, the plot includes a lot of walking and talking across a set filled with inverted pyramids. Oh, and the mutants… sigh. Check out what the Grue Crew has to say about this B&W, time-travel trainwreck. Also, stick around for the usual batch of feedback from past episodes.

You might also want to check out these Decades of Horror: The Classic Era episodes:

THE HIDEOUS SUN DEMON (1958) – Episode 41: w/Robert Clarke as writer, director, producer, and star

THE BLACK CAT (1934) – Episode 67: directed by Edgar G. Ulmer, starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff

At the time of this writing, Beyond the Time Barrier is available for streaming from the Classic Sci-Fi Movie Channel, Amazon Prime, and Tubi. The film is available on physical media as a Blu-ray from Kino Lorber in the Edgar G. Ulmer Sci-Fi Collection, a trio of films that also includes The Man from Planet X (1951) and The Amazing Transparent Man (1960).

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror: The Classic Era records a new episode every two weeks. Up next in their very flexible schedule, as chosen by guest host Michael Zatz, is The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923), another silent scream starring Lon Chaney! Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Incidentally, this will be the Classic Era’s tenth discussion of a silent film.

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: leave them a message or leave a comment on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel, the site, or email the Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast hosts at [email protected]

To each of you from each of them, “Thank you so much for watching and listening!”

Check out this episode!

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polizwrites · 1 year

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Not Having Fun Down on the Bayou

Bucky is less than thrilled about exploring what’s supposed to be a deserted island off the coast of Louisiana. But letting Sam go alone would be worse.

This is a fill for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt [#FFF192 Sea and Sun] as well as my @allcapsbingo N4 - Deserted Island square.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Rating: General Tags: Falcon and the Winter Soldier compliant, mission fic, Louisiana, Bucky is not a fan of Nature Word Count: 355

Bucky was still getting used to this part of the country, where lakes and rivers and bays all sort of flowed one into the other and the ground under your feet couldn’t always be trusted. He was a city boy, born and bred, with Central Park and Coney Island beach being his touchstones of nature. Everything down here felt too wild and untamed, dangerous and unpredictable.

The two of them had stepped off the Paul & Darlene onto what Sam had called Lonesome Island but looked – and smelled – more like a gigantic heap of seaweed and mangrove with nothing making it worth more than a cursory visit. But that was exactly the reason they were here: to find out if this deserted island really wasn’t deserted after all.

Sam pointed across the water to a smudge of green just above the waves. “That’s the West Black Bay Seaplane base, but I’m pretty sure the guys we’re tracking are using this island as their base instead

“I still don’t know why we had to come out here,” Bucky complained, water already starting to ooze into his boots. “Isn’t that what your little drone-thing for? Remote surveillance and stuff?”

“Redwing can only do so much on his own, Buck. Don’t you want to take these smugglers down for good?”

“If they’re hanging out here, odds are the gators and mosquitoes will take them down first.” Bucky replied irritably, swatting at a cloud of bugs.

“Fine. Go sit your ass in the boat. But put a line in the water at least, so it looks like you’re fishing or something.” Sam shot back.

“Nuh-uh. We’re a team, Sam. Whither thou goest and all that jazz.” As if Bucky would let his friend hunt down their quarry alone. Besides, now that the sun was starting to burn off the fog, Bucky could admit there was a certain charm to the island, especially as a light breeze was blowing away the heavy scent of vegetation, replacing it with salt-laden sea air.

Bucky could still think of a hundred places he’d rather be, but he belonged at Sam’s side -- wherever that was.

#writing stuff #fanficlet #flash fiction friday #mcu/marvel #Bucky & Sam shenanigans #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Shameless Self Promo

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filministic · 6 months

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Dickinson (2019-2021)

#Dickinson #tv #дикинсон #Emily Dickinson #Hailee Steinfeld #Adrian Enscoe #Anna Baryshnikov #Ella Hunt #Gus Birney #Toby Huss #Jane Krakowski #Chinaza Uche #Darlene Hunt #Finn Jones #Pico Alexander #Will Pullen #Wiz Khalifa

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gunslinginnhogtyin · 6 months

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ABOUT DARLENE…

She may look like a cowgirl, and in some aspects she most certainly is but true to her heritage, Darlene is a witch. She and Butch met in their early 20’s in Massachusetts and as you can imagine, witch’s in that time in that specific area were demonized and brutalized if discovered. She kept her magic on the down low, Butch was the only one who knew…for a while.

One day while conducting a séance, a villager who happens to be hunting late at night spots the two miles away from the village in the middle of the woods and unbeknownst to the witch and cowboy, warns the whole town of the presence of a witch.

When they trek back to town the following morning, the both of them are met with an angry mob, intent on murdering the witch and the witch sympathizer. So they high tail it out of there, leaving all their worldly possessions behind, just the two of them living as refugees. Word was spreading throughout the state and surrounding states of demonic practices and witch craft so they knew they weren’t ever safe, Darlene knew she was never safe to be who she was.

They became wanted criminals and for a while had to steal what they wanted to survive as any place they would attempt to integrate into would somehow have gotten ahold of a wanted poster or had festering suspicions that couldn’t even be confirmed. The townspeople just wanted to stay on the safe side. On many occasions, they had actually both been tracked down by bounty hunters and almost killed. Thank goodness they had eachother, otherwise they would be dead.

They didn’t just traverse their world either. Darlene had a magic book she would write all of her spells down in, spells she had heard on her travels, her own spells she discovered as her magic improved, and aspects of the magic realm her and Butch both got to explore through means of the magic book. “The Otherworld” she called it. There they both became acquainted with many otherworldly and supernatural beings including but not limited to demons, chaos entities, peacemakers of magic, magical guides and much more. The more they explored this otherworld, the more it became a safe haven… but it wasn’t one they could explore for too long all at once. A consequence of being within this realm as a mortal meant one could be transformed into a demon or super natural entity over time and there was no telling how one’s personality may alter as well as their appearance, so to Darlene and Butch, this was terrifying. Time also moved differently within the book though they weren’t quite sure of the logistics so they decided not to risk it.

Throughout this time of fighting tooth and nail just to exist, they grew closer to eachother. Butch and Darlene have a complicated relationship. It’s clear Butch has always had very strong feelings for her but the feelings were never reciprocated. They had been together physically a few good times nothing else ever came from it, much to Butch’s dismay, so he kept his feelings to himself. He respected Darlene far too much to guilt her or make her feel bad for anything out of her control, he kept her on a pedestal in his mind. She was the greatest most powerful woman he had ever met and he was lucky just to know her. However, Darlene was completely aware of his feelings, and sometimes she would use them to benefit herself. The cowboy was selflessly devoted to her in every way—so why wouldn’t she? She also had quite the temper and Butch being the only one to take it out on didn’t make it easy for either of them. More often than not, it was Darlene’s way or nothing and Butch was seemingly content with this. It was also more acceptable in this time to have that sort of dynamic so he never questioned it.

One fateful day, Darlene approaches Butch in a panic. Upon questioning her, she assures him that everything is fine though he feels that something is off. Darlene tells Butch that he needs to trust her, and that he needs to visit The Otherworld by himself. Something he was terrified of deep down—why would he want to visit this dangerous world by himself? They had many run in’s with dangerous entities in The Otherworld and barely escaped by the skin of their teeth together. Clearly there’s something that Darlene isn’t telling him, something magic related that he’s sure she will tell him he doesn’t understand and he trusts this woman with his life— she hadn’t once failed him before, so going against his better judgement he decides to trust her without an explanation. She says it will all make sense later but this departure felt more like a goodbye.

Darlene tells Butch that he is her most trusted companion, her one true best friend in this world. She cups his face in her hands, tells him that she will see him soon, and gives him a meaningful kiss on the lips followed by the tightest hug they have ever shared. Then, she calls upon her magic to transport him inside of the book where he’s doomed to stay for the next 100+ years. He doesn’t age but time drags on. He knew time worked differently within the book and Darlene had told him she would see him soon so he doesn’t question how long it feels. Throughout his time in The Otherworld, he fights demons, becomes good acquaintances with some beings of chaos, even makes a good few mortal enemies while he’s in there, somehow surviving each dangerous encounter he becomes apart of. Things start to make sense… sort of. But he wonders when Darlene will come find him, when she will release him from the confines of this dangerous and confusing world. Over time, he feels himself beginning to change. Turns out the transformation process takes a lot longer than expected. The first thing he notices are small horns beginning to protrude from his head and following that, a spaded tail. What was happening to him? Was this transformation process Darlene spoke of? He felt the same… mostly.

It’s not too long after recognizing these changes that some other mortals enter the realm, for the first time since he had been transported there. Those mortals happen to be Edgar (Darlene’s great great grandchild), Saskia (Edgar’s best friend), and Daisuke (Saskia’s younger brother). And one of these presumed mortals have a book with them… Darlene’s book. What the hell?

Butch had built his whole world around Darlene, so when he’s released from the book only to find he’s in a completely different time period, standing there with her great great grandchild, well… he kind of loses it. It was supposed to be them. Butch and Darlene forever. Them against the world. How could this have happened? Did she forget about him? Did she LIE to him? Did she want a different life and just wasn’t honest with him? She had abandoned him and moved on with her life, atleast those are the thoughts that cross his mind. He was alone in an unfamiliar world now without the light of his life to guide him. Everything he had ever known or loved was gone forever and he had so many questions he would never get the answer to.

Without proper closure, Butch still holds Darlene in high regards. She’s still somehow the best thing that ever happened to him, the best partner he could have ever had, his light in a world of darkness, much to Edgar’s annoyance. As an outsider, they could really see the flaws in their relationship. Edgar assumes the worst, that she had abandoned Butch but doesn’t have the heart to tell him. The cowboy feels as though she had a reason for doing it, he just wished he knew what it was.

#LONG POST #about Darlene #haha wow this hurt my feelings to write 🥲#but yes all you need to know from Butch’s perspective #we don’t know why Darlene did what she did yet #😈

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shallowseeker · 1 year

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Everyone needs giftwrap, Cas

Little interlude-slash-setup for the overarching fic idea for - "And he wore SLIPPERS, Sam!" - a Dean embarrasses Jack fic

NOTE: The post office lady is named Marta, but I actually prefer her script name, Darlene. So you can overlook that if you like accuracy.

On Tuesday, Dean's fill-in trip to the Lebanon post office takes an unusual turn.

Darlene, usually thrilled to chat (and flirt) with Dean, looks troubled. She fiddles with her granny glasses and plays with her hair so hard that she unwinds a few strands from her tight, brunette bun.

"Hey, Darlene! Long time no see. How's that grandson Thomas of yours doin'? Still smokin' everyone on the 400 yard dash?"

"Oh, Dean," she says with forced enthusiasm. "Filling in for Sam this week?"

"Yup! Sam's out of town, so. Here I am!" He makes a little ta-dah! pose, hoping to lift her spirits. While she tends to harbor an irrational disdain for Sam, Dean can keep her on a baited hook with nothin' more than a wink, smile, and a few well-placed hand squeezes.

Guess it's not a coquettish kinda Tuesday for Darlene.

She smiles weakly as he ducks over and checks their P.O. box. Taking their few envelopes in hand and stuffing them in his jacket pocket, and gives her a jaunty wave before heading for the door. "Dean, wait," she calls, shifting uneasily.

That sounds weird. Bad weird.

"I, uh, not to be stepping in your business, but you're Jack's dad, right? Jack Kline?"

Instantly, Dean's on high alert. Darlene shouldn't know that name.

His mind races from scenario to scenario--from mind control, bewitchment, to shifter doppelganger switcheroos. He's got a blade on his ankle, and of course, Cas is in the car if it goes to real shit.

Dean doesn't answer her question.

"How d'you know Jack?"

She pulls out her phone and stabs at it, old-lady style in that way that Sam hate, like she doesn't know that pressing the screen harder won't make it go faster.

"I, uh, I've taken to secretly monitoring my grandson's Instagram," she explains. "There's a video."

Oh, Dean's got a bad feeling about this.

Darlene rounds the counter and shuffles over to where Dean's hovering just in front of the glass front doors.

"I think it's your Jack."

She shoves her phone in Dean's face, and he has no choice but to take it. It's a shaky video of a large group of raggedy-looking young people laughing together. Not to judge, but they look like a rough crowd (and Dean's technically from a rough crowd himself).

Dean spies beer bottles, cigarettes, and iphones waving in the air. But what's most concerning is, in between shaky blurs of trees and rocks, Dean makes out what looks like the edge of a cliff.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

The kids are egging each other on, to jump off the damn Lion King rock.

For crying out loud. First it's Tide Pods. Now, kids are jumping off cliffs to get social media views.

There's one blonde dumbass who blindfolds himself and does a backflip off the ledge.

Oh, shit.

That's Jack.

Dean's heart seizes up and Darlene tuts as she sees the look of recognition seep into his eyes.

"I thought so," she says sadly. "Did you know this is a rough crowd?"

It looks it.

"I heard my grandson and his friend Bea talking about it, too. Jack was okay, but I don't like how they keep goading him to do dangerous things. It's something of a past-time for the group."

What? What group?

Dean tries to make his brain work.

Number one, it's not hygienic. Dean is pretty sure this particular waterhole had been tagged as a SuperFund in the late 70s. (They'll be lucky if Jack doesn't sprout horns or mutant toe webbing in the next several days.)

Number two, Jack is practically human now, and doing a backflip off a cliff for a gaggle of teenaged dumbasses is just about the dumbest thing he could do.

The only stupider thing is point number three, which is recording said jump for the whole civilian and Supernatural world to see on the god-damned internet.

Jack knows he's been hunted since he was born.

Cas could see Sister Jo over a video feed, after all, and so Dean and Sam had made sure to hammer it into his head to never be recorded, must less posted on fucking Instagram.

God, Dean hoped he was human enough for it not to show.

God, please.

"I'm going to kill him," he whispers.

Darlene flutters her lashes at him and pets his elbow closest to her.

"I know how hard parenting can be, especially as a single parent. I've had to discipline my son and my grandson, countless times, just to keep them alive."

Oh, Lady. You don't know the half of it.

Darlene wants to be the December to his May, and in this moment, she's bartering her parenting skills.

Dean slowly tracks his eyes back to the horrifying iPhone video, and then Darlene is grabbing Dean's elbow and moving him out of the way of the door. The little ornament at the top ding-a-lings.

"Oh, goodness me! We're blocking the entrance. Excuse us!"

Dean feels the prickle of awareness before he turns around and meets Cas's concerned frown.

Whelp. There he is. Dean figures he was taking too long, and the thing with Darlene probably looks like a confrontation all the way over from the car.

Dean doesn’t waste a second before shoving Darlene’s iPhone video into Cas’s face.

“Good, you're here. Would you get a load of this shit?”

Dean’s not screeching. He’s really not.

He sounds maybe a little aggressive and maybe a little spun out, but overall, it’s a completely respectable response to seeing your recently powered-down, half-human hybrid foster kid do a backflip off a damn cliff.

I mean, good on Jack for being cool for once (booz, hot chicks, weed, etc.), but Dean draws the line at friggin’ cliff-jumping.

Cas immediately recognizes that it’s Jack in the video. He dislodges the phone from Dean’s grips and hums as he scrubs the timeline back and forth.

And he just keeps right on hm-ing, like he wants to keep 'em in an ungodly amount of suspense. After a beat, Dean bristles some more, “Well?”

He feels Darlene nudge in closer behind him, like she’s not sure what to make of Cas. Dean throws a backwards glance and sees her mouth set in a firm line.

Cas wets his lips and looks up guiltily through his lashes, like he maybe doesn’t think this is as big a deal as Dean does.

“We’re lucky. He’s safe. His nature is hidden, even from digital view.” With that, he pockets Darlene’s phone and makes to exit. “But we should talk with him. Let’s go.”

For her part, Darlene makes a strangled noise and rushes forward. “Wait! That’s my phone!”

Cas blinks, like he’s noticing Darlene for the first time. She puffs out her chest, and the ruffles on her cream-colored blouse flutter in the air conditioning.

On Cas’s impassive gaze, she overreacts. Her eyes trail up and down like she’s sizing him up. “I’ll call the police if you don’t give it back,” she warns.

“Oh?” Cas says, eyes shifting to Dean and back. “Apologies. I thought the phone was one of yours, Dean.”

“W-work phones. I got a lot of em,” Dean murmurs to Darlene under his breath, hoping the flippant explanation makes it sound less…criminal.

“And no, no. Phone belongs to Darlene here. Uh,” he clears his throat. “Darlene Dickerson. Darlene? This is Castiel. Cas? Darlene.”

She still doesn’t look too happy with him, so Dean grapples for better words.

“Cas is a friend. He wouldn’t steal your phone.”

She hmmphs. Peachy. Looks like Darlene is set to hate Cas as much or maybe even more than she hates Sam. After another few moments of stony silence, Dean reaches into Cas’s coat pocket and fishes her phone out. “Jeez, move it along. Here ya go, Darlene. Guy’s got deep pockets, you know? Ehehe.”

It’s not even a good joke.

But it’s something to break up the tension.

Darlene yanks her phone from Dean’s fingers and sneers, eyes trailing over Cas’s raggedy coat.

“Well, he doesn’t look like he has deep pockets,” she coos under her breath, rude.

Oh, she really doesn’t like him.

“Darlene Dickerson,” Cas says, squinting at her like he’s trying to puzzle something out. “I recognize your name.”

“Yeah, she sends us Christmas cards and we sponsor her grandson Thomas in the Fun Run every year,” Dean explains, in a hurry to move this along. “She’s worked here as long as we’ve been here.”

“Ah,” Cas murmurs quietly. “I remember now. I’ve heard Sam complaining about her.” The comment is meant for Dean, but it’s loud enough that Darlene overhears, and her nose wrinkles in displeasure.

At this rate, Cas is going to stay on her bad side forever.

While it’s totally hilarious that she hates Sam, Dean doesn’t really want her to hate Cas. For some reason. He tries to smooth it over.

“Sam didn’t say anything bad about you, Darlene. He was just uhm.”

At this point, Cas seems to clue in to his social faux paus.

“Oh. Of course. Sam didn’t say anything bad,” he fumbles to add, nodding to Darlene. “He’s simply jealous that you like Dean better than him.”

Not bad, Dean thinks. That one’s not even a lie.

Dean paints on his best Prince Charming smile and blasts it at Darlene. “You know Sam,” he chuckles. “He likes attention, but he doesn’t wanna do the bare minimum to get to know lovely ladies such as yourself.”

Darlene slips on a tight smile and throws Cas another wary glance.

“That’s true,” she says to Dean, frowning.

Maybe he'd laid it on a little thick. “I figure Sam puts his head down and barely says hi when he comes in. Sound about right?”

At Dean's estimation, Cas quirks his trademark smile—a crooked, sidewinding thing that usually works pretty decently on women. It seems to help Darlene settle.

“Dean's right. Sam can be very preoccupied, yes. He shouldn’t, because you seem very pleasant to talk with.”

To Dean’s relief, Darlene preens a little bit, hand drifting up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Well,” she huffs. “I try to be.”

Dean clears his throat and crowds closer to Cas, nudging him with his elbow for effect.

“Darlene here monitors her grandson Thomas’s social media accounts. She’s the one who clued me into the vid I showed you.”

“Oh,” Cas says, exaggerating his surprise like Dean had taught him to do, for politeness’s sake. “We’re very lucky to have you looking out for Jack.”

Darlene smooths a dainty hand down her blouse. Maybe it’s the air conditioning, but Dean notices she’s a little bit cold. Or she needs a better bra. Those nipples could poke somebody's eye out.

“I’m very Instagram-savvy,” she brags. She assesses Cas again, eyes shrewd. “Not to be nosey, Castiel, but you two got quite the resemblance. You and Jack, I mean.”

Oh. Crap. Darlene ain’t got much of a filter.

Before Cas can belt out something that’s entirely weird and entirely too honest about Jack’s origins, Dean beats him to the punch.

“Cas is Jack’s dad-dad,” he explains proudly, like that’ll settle everything.

Darlene’s eyebrows shoot up on her forehead.

“Oh.”

As if Dean’s claim requires proof, Cas scrambles to hold up his own phone and thumbs it to show the lock screen. (It’s a photo of Jack grinning cheekily at the camera.)

“I thought Jack was your son, Dean,” she accuses gently. “That’s what Thomas told me, anyway.”

“It’s a bit of a group project,” Dean coughs, trying to work out a cover story that doesn’t make them sound like a freaky religious cult.

“I’m a friend of the family,” Cas explains, borrowing a phrase from Mary. “Jack and I moved here permanently almost two years ago, but I can’t always be here…due to work.”

“Yeah,” Dean tacks on, “And we give Jack, you know. Stability. Boundaries. Here, I mean. We got a, uh, extended family situation.”

“Lebanon is a nice, quiet place to raise a troubled teen,” Darlene agrees. “Our family’s like that, too. We stick together. You know what they say…”

Cas tilts his head. “No. What do they say?”

Darlene clears her through, like she’s about to deliver Dalai-Lama level wisdom.

“It’s cliché, but it’s true: It takes a village to raise a child properly. Especially with how social media is these days. Kids get up to worse and worse, I swear.”

“I like that. It takes a village,” Cas says softly, like he’s never heard the phrase before. Maybe he hasn't. His eyes glimmer as he looks on Darlene with renewed gratitude.

“So,” Dean coughs, breaking up the moment, “So, could you tell us how to get to that video? We’re gonna need to, you know, do the discipline thing later. I guess.”

Cas holds up his phone, “You could ‘Share the Link’ via text if that’s easier.”

Hell. Dean doesn’t particularly want Darlene to have Cas’s number.

“Well, I’d prefer to send the link to Dean,” she complains with a mischievous smile, fluttering her lashes in a way that reminds Dean of Rowena.

“I can add you to a group chat with Dean and myself,” Cas offers. “For emergencies.”

And he does it before Dean can even stop him.

Dammit, Cas. Dean’s smile has a hard time not transforming itself into a grimace. Thanks for giving my number to the thirstiest GILF-wannabe in Lebanon, I guess.

“Thanks so much,” Darlene gushes, staring at her phone like she’s just won the lottery. She mashes her fingers against her own screen for a minute or two. “And here’s the link. Did you get it, Castiel?”

“I got it.”

“Do you know much about Instagram, Castiel?”

“Actually, I’m not very good with technology. Dean has an account, though. He’ll be able to follow your link.”

Dammit, Cas.

“Oh.” Darlene’s eyes are liquid and large as they flick over to Dean. “So you have an Instagram. Why, I’d love to follow you, Dean.”

“It’s uh,” Dean coughs again. “It’s just a private account. I don’t post anything.” Which, of course he doesn’t. He’s on too many criminal watch lists.

“Well, I’m LittleQueenDarlene57. Feel free to connect. I’m very active in the school PTO and over at Lebanon United Methodist. My spy account is the one I linked you from, though. That one’s top secret.”

She winks.

Dean blinks.

“Wait. You’re not catfishing your grandson, are you?”

Darlene titters. “Oh, I don’t target him. It’s just a sort of character I play to go under the radar with the kids.”

That’s a little disturbing, Dean thinks.

But also kinda. You know.

Genius.

“Don’t be too hard on Jack,” Darlene says now, moving closer to Cas and petting him sympathetically on the arm. “Most boys go through things like this—doing dangerous things to try and impress their friends.”

Cas gives her his little smile again.

“That would be very hypocritical of me.”

Despite how rocky this had started out, Darlene definitely likes Cas now. Dean rolls his eyes. “Okay, Casanova, I think Darlene’s had just about enough of you.”

She hasn’t. She squeezes Cas’s arm.

“Wait, before you go… Would you like to buy something from my grandson’s fundraiser? He’s selling giftwrap for his baseball team.”

“Why would I need—?”

“Everyone needs giftwrap,” she interrupts, striding across the room to her work station. She withdraws a glossy Charleston Wrap catalogue from behind the counter and practically skips back over to Cas.

Cas looks at a complete loss when she plops it into his hands, and the look he gives Dean is the priceless, deer-in-headlights kind.

“Uh. Dean?”

Dean thinks, You brought this on yourself, Buddy.

Darlene goes into full saleswoman mode: “This brand of gift wrap is the best I’ve ever had, to he honest. It folds and creases perfectly, and all of it’s double-sided.”

“I prefer using gift bags,” Cas says neutrally, inching towards the door.

“We can get you that, and there's tissue paper, too! Why, there’s a whole set on page 13,” she trills.

Cas swallows and looks helplessly to Dean again.

“But just so you know, my great niece runs a gift wrap service in November of every year. So, we can go ahead and order you some gift wrap, and then if you get overwhelmed trying to figure out wrapping, you can just drop me a text. Lacy’s hourly rates are very reasonable, and she doesn’t even charge extra for bows. She uses the real nice, wire ribbon, so the bows are to die for!”

“Hear that, Cas?” Dean laughs. “She doesn’t even charge extra for bows.”

It must come out a little too sarcastic, because the look Darlene sends his way is just shy withering.

After a solid five minutes, in which Darlene hardly breaks to take in air, Cas agrees to spend well over $150, and Dean about pees his pants trying not to laugh.

He has to bite his tongue on the prices, because on the one hand, yeah this is highway robbery. On the other, it's criminal money, so they sort of cancel each other out.

Besides, Cas’s terrified face is pure gold, and Dean’s gonna get to hold this over his head for ages.

Darlene talks Cas into a gift bag package, three colors of tissue paper, and two rolls of gift wrap (one pattern features Rudolph ice skating, and the other pattern features a "Christmas Zoo Safari"). From the accessories section, Cas selects four gray-and-red Tartan scarves, a Nordic snowflakes Pom-beanie hat, and a red snowflakes pom-beanie. For Claire,“ he explains hastily. "I can’t leave her out, Dean.”

Dean can see Darlene itching to ask about Claire, so he clears his throat to move things along. “Yeah, I’d say you got everyone covered,” he says, schooling his face and holding in a laugh.

Cas shoots him a glare, like it’s Dean’s fault for not rescuing him from this situation. Which. It kind of is.

“Don’t look at me,” Dean says. “I already sponsored the Fun Run, so it’s your turn.”

As Darlene tallies up the overpriced gifts, Cas fishes some bills from his pocket: a crumpled hundred-dollar, a fifty, and a ten from his wallet. Darlene jots down the item numbers, and then she asks for Cas's full name and address.

“Just put it all under Dean Campbell,” Dean says, rescuing him at last. “I’ll just pick it up here when it comes in. Or Sam can do it.”

Cas looks relieved, gives Darlene a stiff nod, and after the transaction is complete, they make to leave.

“It was nice meeting you, Darlene,” he says, perfunctory and obviously eager to be out of the building. He doesn’t wait for her reply before he’s out the door.

Hehe, coward.

She doesn’t seem to mind his abruptness. Instead, she actually giggles as she watches him stride to the car. She looks back to Dean.

“Well. He was a good sport about that,” she breathes, grinning big.

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Him and his deep pockets, right? I think he’d have bought more from ya if you'd made to the food section. Pret-ty calculated, Darlene. Pretty calculated.”

“Times are tough,” she sighs. “And Thomas’s team needs new uniforms.”

“Yeah, well. Guess we'll be bothering Lacy in November, too. I can't wrap for shit, and I think he'd probably rip the paper to shreds. Which would be a cryin' shame since we're springing for the fancy two-sided stuff. And thanks again,” he grabs the handle on the door, “for the Jack stuff, I mean. Uh, gotta go ground that kid now, yanno.”

Before Dean pushes out, Darlene grabs his elbow in a vice grip and yanks him back. “I like him, Dean,” she whispers, like she’s sharing something earth-shattering and very private.

Huh?

“You like him? Jack?”

“Castiel.”

Dean assesses her gleaming, rabid face and thinks, Yup. She's the thirstiest GILF-wannabe in Lebanon, and now she’s got the hots for Cas, too.

He purses his lips and rolls his eyes at the thought.

“Okay, whaddya want, Queen Darlene? Me to set you two up on a blind date or something? Cause you already have his number now—”

She huffs, then grins and shakes her head. Her gray eyes grow bigger and more serious now.

“You should bring him to Church, Dean.”

She’s never invited Dean to Church before. Something about the gravitas with which she says it feels…odd.

“Okay, sure. Yeah. Maybe.”

She breathes happily.

“I really do hope to see you both there. Bye now!”

Okay.

When Dean gets to the parking lot, he feels like he’s missed a step somewhere.

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