@ghstfacr || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

“I broke the lock. You were screaming.”

no matter how many time's he's tried to save him. he keeps getting the same outcome. every door he opens and runs through? sam's dead on the other side. he's killed the fucking demon three different ways. out ran it twice. and dean just can't do it. the door opens. sam's bloodied and limp. torn apart and gone. hanging and staring down at him with vacant eyes. burnt and a shadow blazed into the fucking concrete. make that make sense! you can't! cause DEAN can't!

the more he finds him broken, bloodied and dead--the more panicked dean gets. and he can't wake up. there's no waking up and he's starting to think he's not dreaming anymore. maybe he really is awake and this is some kind of fucking hell he's ended up trapped in with no escaping.

this time the door's still bloody with his handprints. crimson that's not his own. and this time sam's standing there. neck twisted. eyes rolled white and then they fill with black. teeth gnashing together with thick black dripping through them spilling between his lips, "you did this.." he hisses. wet vitriol. laced with hisses and gutteral noises in languages that haunt him from the dark. dean screams. and then there's a bang.

round, wild eyes stare at the face that comes into view. 'i broke the lock. you were screaming.' and dean's scrambling up out of bed. half dressed and his palms brushing wildly at his face. "i..uh..yeah.. wow," one swings to cup the back of his neck and he jerks the other one towards the bed puffing out a hasty laugh. brush it off. don't let her see you sweat. literally. "spider! whew... thank god. you busted the lock--wait--you what?" he jerks an impressed brow up. anything to get that vision out of his head. ANYTHING!

@ghstfacr || prompts for playful affection || accepting!

i'm going to do everything in my power to make you laugh.

dean's been quiet for most of the night. a pensive mood's settled around the hunter who's perched on a set of rocks piled up outside the hotel where the three of them are staying. sam's decided to take a shower. order some food. get something in their system cause it's been "too long" since they had something to eat. dean (of all people??) didn't seem particularly involved in picking out something, so it was up to his brother and jules to figure out what they were having.

what set him off? it's the usual. he feels like he let someone down.

the case was one of those townsfolk versus secret that should never have been a secret because then people might not've kept dying for as long as they have sorta cases. a haunting that ended up with a dead grandfather of six, a beloved cheerleading coach, a banker who was just doing her job and had three cats she took care of like kids. all collateral damage. main target? a dad of two young girls that were never going to see him again. that one stuck. and stuck deep. cause dean swore they'd get it done before he was gone. that ghost? no matter what they did. or what turns they took. wasn't going without taking him with it.

banker's husband wanted the dad's wife. only she wasn't budging. they were happy. she was the psycho's high school sweetheart. years ago. lifetimes ago. he never gave up the hope they'd get together. some high school reunion set him off on the idea all over. got himself some love spell off the internet. didn't care how real it was. only that he'd get her. in the end? he wound up getting dragged away, too. both men. gone.

'i'm going to do everything in my power to make you laugh.' her voice comes from behind him and draws dean's attention up from the label of an empty beer bottle. brow arched. she slinks into his lap and makes the DUMBEST, CUTEST face he's ever seen. cheeks puffed out. lips puckered. eyes CROSSED. a grin spreads over his mouth. he can't help it. "that so, huh? looking good. can't say i've ever seen you look this good." and then both middle fingers shoot up in the air and that's all he can take when it's attached to whatever she's doing with her face. and he's laughing. eyes squint at their corners and teeth bared. "okay, okay. just---what ARE you? damn weirdo." and his eyes flare, then roll before he captures those middle fingers and uses them to pull her in for a kiss.

@ghstfacr || high pain tolerance starters || accepting!

“Hey, why are you walking like that?” { danny torrance ? }

happened a little over two days ago and the damn swelling just won't go down. danny sprang out of bed so fast that his ankle decided to go one way while the rest of him? went the other. sure, some of what he was drinking might've been part of the reason why. but that's what happens when the wagon wheel gets a little wobbly and you fall off for a night. it's something he's desperately not proud of. he's been beating himself up for it ever since he woke up with a bottle of scotch gone and his dignity somewhere between i'll just have a sip and toss it out to shit, i think it's tossing me out.

but the nightmares? those were back so bad he couldn't turn it OFF. and, thus, the boulder on top of the hill in the direct path of his wagon came rolling down the hill to a stop right as he was rolling by. here we are now. with a sprain. bruising so purply black and now bordered by a disgusting green that he gets sick looking at it.

now. she noticed.

a sharp smile. one that wrinkles the corners of his eyes. he's doing his best to reassure as he plops down on the nearest chair. one that happens to be right in the middle of the coffee shop. thankfully. not too many steps from her pointing out his limp. voice a soft, touched key. he does appreciate concern. it's sweet. sweet's something he doesn't get most often. has a bad habit of gravitating towards toxic. or turning it that way. "it's nothing. made an idiot mistake jumping out of bed to make my shift the other day. turns out if your feet decide to go right? the rest of you should, too."

his coffee's placed on the side table after a sip. "didn't think it was bad enough for anyone to notice.."

@ghstfacr || a meme continuation || from here!

they're getting nowhere.

they've been getting nowhere on this case for hours now. face it. these books? aren't doing shit. it's about time to pack up, grab what they got left to go over and go back to the motel. dean's STARVING and none of them are really giving the effort all of their attention anymore. he knows he isn't. cause jules walking past catches his eye and an idea comes a poppin' right into the back of his brain. then goes crawling to the front of it.

..before he knows? he's giving sam a glance, standing up and wandering off after her. moseying past the dusty old librarian who gives him a cursory look then goes back to her computer. weathered fingers tapping at some sorta data entry he doesn't really care about.

his hands graze bare skin just underneath the hem of jules's shirt when he comes up behind her. lips find the spot on the back of her neck that he knows presses buttons that make her knees fill with water and her arms go like wet spaghetti noodles. she chides him. gives him an exasperated half-lecture and he only grins and buries the tip of his nose into that spot even further. "fine. so we can go home. i'm failing to see the bad." fingers spread over her belly. so warm. so soft..

he's playing a convincing game here. and winning! cause the fuck it's all he needs before her mouth's all his for the taking. yeah. they aren't gonna go crazy. sam would lose his shit if he walked in on that. or. they ended up getting busted by the crypt keeper lady back behind her desk and caught an indecent exposure charge (at last. time's ticking on that one!) but it's fun to tease and make her squirm as blunt nails trace the skin above her navel and he nips her bottom lip upon pulling away. she's flat against him. doesn't do him any favors either but a breath in and he swallows that building burn up before it gets the best of him.

"so.. what were you over here to do again?" another sweep of his fingers as his chin rests on her shoulder. "don't let me interrupt.."