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stillwintering · 7 months

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All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: A modern AU set in the throes of a political campaign. Rhys is running for president. Feyre asks her estranged sister Nesta to join the campaign team. Nesta couldn't turn down a front-row seat to one of the most compelling political stories of the year: a promising upstart with a dream, running a long-shot campaign for president. Little does she know that she's going to have to work closely with Cassian, one of Rhys' top deputies, who infuriates her to no end.

Of course, Nesta and Cassian fall for each other despite themselves. There is drama and politics and idiots in love.

(Nessian focused but lots of Feysand to keep things interesting.)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Nesta took a moment to consider the job offer.

"Well?" Feyre asked, her eyes hopeful. "What are you thinking?"

Nesta knew she couldn't refuse. It was a golden opportunity, too good to pass up. She weighed the pros and cons in her head. Joining the campaign would mean she worked for Rhys and Feyre. Nesta loved her sister, but their relationship had been strained since their father passed. Nesta hasn't been an active part of Feyre's life for years. She didn't know how to relate to Feyre as her sister, let alone as her boss. A wave of guilt hits her.

"I don't know," Nesta finally offered. "I'm flattered Rhys wants me as his communications director."

"But?" Feyre prompted.

Nesta picked up the porcelain cup and saucer in front of her, swirling her tea around. Professionally, this was the best offer she had in years. But personally, it was a minefield. She had never taken a liking to her brother-in-law. Rhys had been born with a silver spoon, practically political royalty -- too privileged, too arrogant. They tolerated each other, at best. She's not sure how well he will take it when she has to challenge him in order to do her job as his campaign's communication director. She wasn't going to be another Washington sycophant.

"Feyre, I --"

"We -- I need someone I trust on the campaign," Feyre offered. She chewed her lower lip. "Nesta, please. I don't think we can do this without you."

Nesta hesitated. "I'm just not sure if we should," she gestured between them, "make things more complicated."

"Nesta, I haven't seen you for 2 years," Feyre said softly. "I know things aren't... great between us. But we both know you are the right person -- the best person for this job. Why do you find it so hard to believe that I trust you?"

Nesta winced. She looked at her little sister, once so small and doe-eyed, now radiating power. She nodded, back straightening, and looked away.

"When do you need me to start?"

---

Rhysand Starborn was running for president. He is entering the race as the long-shot candidate: a young 3-term congressman, still green. But the Starborn name held sway. Rhys had grown up part of a political dynasty: 2 senators, 3 governors, and at least 2 Secretaries of State. Rhys' father had served over 30 years in the Senate and had been one of the most influential power brokers on Capitol Hill.

Rhys had fought against his family's expectations all his life. His father, while beloved by the public, had been a cruel man in private. Rhys understood, better than most, the price politics exacted on one's soul and saw firsthand how his own father traded his decency for power.

His father died many years ago, from a long illness that he hid from his constituents until the end. Never show any weakness -- that was one of his father's lessons. Rhys had been a disappointment, too soft, showed too much weakness. His father died full of disdain for his only son.

"For those of us climbing to the top of the food chain, there can be no mercy," Rhys can still hear his father say. "There is but one rule: hunt or be hunted."

Rhys was running for president. Because he has a dream for the country. Because his father's ghost still weighed on him. Because Rhys wanted to be a better man, a better husband, a better father. But not because of power, never just for power. Rhys tells himself.

---

It took Nesta two weeks to find an apartment in Washington DC, a small one-bedroom in a renovated Art Deco building. The move was easy enough. Nesta had never put down roots, opting to live wherever the story she was writing was going to take her.

Nesta worked as a writer, reporter, and political commentator. Her writing was witty and sharp -- always discerning. She had a way of reading people, seeing through everyone's masks and lies. She can spend 10 minutes with someone in a room and know exactly what made them tick, and what buttons to push. It was a skill that was both a blessing and a liability.

Last year, Nesta wrote a searing profile of the British Prime Minister for The Economist that was credited for torpedoing his re-election campaign. She had spent a week shadowing and interviewing him and by the end, saw him exactly for the power-hungry viper he was. She had made a name for herself as a political truth-teller, always holding power to account. Nesta was really good at her job.

Her years of reporting on and writing about politics have made her cynical of politicians. In journalism school, everyone has been taught Lord Acton's axiom: all power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Nesta believed that when she first started out, at her first reporting job, but after all these years, she doesn't believe it's always true anymore. Power doesn't always corrupt. Power can cleanse.

Now, what Nesta believes is always true about power is that power reveals.

Nesta waits by the door of Starborn's congressional office. It was her first day on the Starborn campaign. She was eager to find out what power would finally reveal about Rhysand.

---

Feyre's face lit up when she spied Nesta by the door.

"Let me introduce you to the team!" Feyre gestured for her to come inside.

The office was bigger than Nesta expected. Most junior congressmen were relegated to the cramped basement offices of the House office buildings along Independence Avenue. Space was always scarce on Capitol Hill. The size and location of Rhys' office indicated that he had some influence in the House, no doubt helped by his family connections.

Nesta surveyed the front room, which had several rows of desks for the half dozen staffers buzzing about -- no windows. In the back, a pair of French doors open to a decent-sized office with an imposing desk in front of a tall window. Several people stood around Rhys, leaning against his desk, sitting by the chairs flanked on either side. They were deep in conversation when she stepped inside.

Rhys stood up from his seat behind the desk to greet her. "Nesta," he held out his hand to shake hers. "It's good to see you again. Thank you for joining us."

Nesta took his hand and noted the firm squeeze he gave her. "Rhys," she said, pointedly not returning the welcoming smile he flashed her.

Rhys was devastatingly handsome: striking violet eyes and a face that was not easily forgotten. He had an effortless grace about him -- something Nesta knew took other politicians years on the campaign trail to hone and perfect -- but Rhys welded his charm like it was second nature. It put Nesta on edge, made her apprehensive.

If Rhys noticed Nesta's wariness in his presence, he didn't let it show. He turned to a beautiful petite woman standing next to him and said, "This is Amren, my campaign manager."

Amren gave Nesta a perfunctory handshake, her sleek black bob swayed with her movements. Her eyes were silver and cold. Nesta liked Amren immediately.

The two men sitting in the pair of chairs flanking Rhys' desk both stood. Nesta was startled by their height and size as they rose. They must both be over 6'2", all rippling muscles underneath their suits. They looked more like bodyguards than political operatives.

"Azriel," the man on the right introduced himself, extending his hand. He was classically beautiful: sharp jawlines and high cheekbones. If she didn't know better, Nesta would have guessed that he was a runway model for Paris Fashion Week.

"Nesta," she introduced herself again and took his hand. She tried to not react to the long deep scars that she felt and saw across his hands, up his forearms, and disappearing beneath his shirtsleeve. She knew those scars had a story to tell.

"Nesta Archeron," the second man addressed her, a smirk in his voice. "The Prime Minister slayer."

Nesta stiffened and met his gaze. A pair of golden hazel eyes held her. His hand slipped around hers, firm and warm. Nesta's breath caught.

"This is Cassian," Feyre cut in. She rolled her eyes at him.

His eyes seemed to pin Nesta in her place. "I'm a big fan. The hit piece you wrote about the President's last Supreme Court nominee was brilliant. I can't believe you got a hold of his tax returns."

Hit piece! Nesta's temper flared. She pulled her hand away. "He was corrupt," her voice was clipped.

Cassian chuckled -- it was a warm, affectionate sound. "Rhys, you got to look out for this one," he said, turning towards the desk.

Nesta had rarely ever been rendered speechless. When he looked back at her again with those golden hazel eyes, she met them boldly and assessed him.

There was something entirely wild, but still very handsome about Cassian. His features were more rugged, weather-worn, like the north face of a mountain -- a scar notched one of his eyebrows, his skin golden brown. He had long dark hair that he had pulled into a knot, almost bordering on inappropriate for otherwise stuffy and conservative Capitol Hill fashion. Something about Cassian both thrilled and disturbed her.

"Welcome to the Starborn presidential campaign," Feyre said, wrapping up their introductions. Her voice pulled Nesta's attention away from Cassian.

"Feyre, darling," Rhys turned towards her, his eyes softening. "Are you sure you want to do this? This is the last exit before our lives change forever."

Feyre entwined their fingers together, giving her husband a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, darling. I am sure."

Amren smiled, taking her cue to begin, and then nodded toward Nesta. "Tell me, girl, what do you know about the Iowa caucuses?"

#fanfic #nesta x cassian #acotar #a court of silver flames #cassian #nesta #nessian #nesta archeron #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #all's fair in love and politics #acotar fanfiction

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alexsoenomel · 2 years

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That Summer Dress (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You have to wear a dress for a case and Dean really likes it *wink*

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: psychotic ghost and sexy times (BJ’s and big O’s)

Word count: 3104

Note: I wrote this in 2019. Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

“Do you really have to use me as bait?“ I asked while my will to live was slowly leaving my body and soul.

“Hey the ghost likes to kill girls and since both of us have dicks...” Dean said but I cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Case in a nutshell: Not so long ago a serial killer named Ted Bundy existed and he liked to kill women, saying hardcore pornography made him do it (Dean to that: “Yeah right.”). Well, turns out the world is even more fucked up than I thought; he had a fan. A fan so dedicated to keep his notorious legacy alive, he made sure not to cross over when he dies; and he died 10 years ago. He liked to kill pretty girls in fucked up ways, the similarities between his MO and Ted’s were uncanny. His main preference, were girls who wore pretty dresses. After he would kill them, he would keep the dresses, sick bastard. Some say he would put on the dress of his first victim, his wife, every time he would kill. We burnt the body but he was still in his house. So, naturally we decided to go there and see what’s keeping him here, in Tacoma, Washington.

It was 6pm and time for us to get to work. This shitty motel room was slowly driving me mad; I was ready to kick something.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked putting on my backpack.

“(Y/N) are you forgetting something?” Dean then asked me.

“What?”

“You said it yourself he likes girls in dresses.” Sam said.

Oh shit.

“You really want me to wear a dress? REALLY?”

Dean jokingly told me I would have to wear a dress and also added how hot I would look before we came here; turns out he wasn’t joking. Dean and I were kind of more than just friends. We weren’t together either. Ever since I’ve first met him one night in a bar back home (Lebanon, Kansas) we were drawn to each other. He, of course typical Dean, tried to flirt with me and get in my pants but I wasn’t in the mood. I lost my friend to a vampire that day and I was grieving, with whiskey. He started with small talk which I hate more than anything, but because I was attracted to him I gave him a pass and soon after we found common ground. We were in the same business, liked the same music and overall been through a lot of similar crap. Plus he was SO lucky in the gene department; those green eyes and full pink lips were enough to make me want him under/on top of me. That night we talked for what it seemed like forever, about hunting, life, everything...that night I saw his true colors and he saw mine, which was strange for both of us, considering the fact we don’t open up easily and to just anybody. We didn’t fuck that night though. Oh no, after that I haven’t seen him in 3 long months. He was busy trying to find his angel friend Castiel and nephilim named Jack; and I was busy hunting werewolves in Los Angeles. We would text each other every once in a while but that was it, before, he one day called me asking if I want to join him and his little brother. Of course I said yes. That was and still is one of the greatest discussions I have ever made. Ever since my friend died I’ve been hunting alone and the loneliness was killing me. I still miss her terribly. It was nice having company like Sam and Dean. Sam soon became that friend everyone wishes to have; the one who takes care of you and is always there if you have a problem and Dean, well Dean was your friend’s hot brother you desperately wanted to bang. And I did...one drunken night when we were left alone. Sam was the one who needed to clear his head so he went for a long walk and Dean and I were left to do research for our next case. We were a little hard on that bottle of whiskey Dean had bought that day so we did anything but that. When Sam got back he found us both collapsed in Dean’s bed naked (thank god we were covered with a sheet). The next day was pretty awkward for him. Poor Sammy...

I don’t even remember what we did; I just know he gave me the most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had. It was mind-blowing. We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about it since we have been working 24/7, so this brings us to now... I get jealous every time a girl even looks at Dean in a way I don’t like, and Dean is the same. One time when a guy bought me a drink, Dean just drank it instead of me. So we were friends but there was something more to it...

Back to reality...

“If you want us to get rid of that son of a bitch yeah.” Dean said with an obvious smug on his face.

“But I don’t have one.” I said giving him a bitch face. “I don’t wear dresses.”

“We will go and buy one then.” Sam said.

“Great.” A sarcastic comment was a necessity for me.

Because I was going to wear a dress I decided to put my hair in a pony tail and do my makeup. Well, mascara was the only thing I carried, so put mascara on. We went to a nearest shop where I found the most beautiful summer dress. A little above the knees, white with flowers all over it, covering all the right places, it suited me perfectly. Dean approved as well. When he saw me leaving the shop his jaw hit the floor. He was waiting with Sam outside drinking coffee and almost choked on it. My ego was rising faster than the bulge in his pants.

“What do you think?” I asked them.

“It suits you.” Sam said.

“Nice.” Dean added swallowing nervously. “Okay let’s get to work.”

While Dean was driving I could feel him eyeballing me in the rear-view mirror as much as he could. That man was slowly going mad and I loved it. I hoped this dress lands me a naked Dean Winchester after this case.

When we finally arrived to his house I got chills down my spine. I felt his presence and I was still in the car. When we went inside on the other hand, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, he was there waiting for me. Maybe that’s how he killed all those girls over the years, he was calling for me to go to his bedroom.

“He’s in the bedroom.” I whispered.

“How do you know?” Sam asked tightening the grip around his shotgun. Both, him and Dean had shotguns with rock salt shot rounds while I was stuck with an iron crowbar.

“He’s telling me to come there. Sick bastard.”

“What a ladies’ man.” Dean added.

Because I was the bait in this whole operation I was the first to enter the room. It was one of those typical bedrooms that you see in horror movies; all wooden, unreasonably tidy and clean with...so many dolls in dresses watching your every move. It was a room of nightmares. Just being in there made the Winchesters and me uncomfortable.

“Now, this guy had a lot of issues.” I heard Dean say, and he was right.

In that moment I felt someone or something grab my throat which resulted in me dropping the crowbar. He was here. He was old probably in his sixties, gray hair, and psychotic written all over his face and in old dirty clothes. He was tightening the grip around my neck as I felt oxygen leave my brain. “Pretty dress.”- Was the last thing I heard followed by a gunshot before passing out.

****

“Hey (Y/N) are you okay?”

“(Y/N) wake up!”

Dean said a little bit louder as I opened my eyes completely oblivious of what went down.

“Where’s the ghost?”

“We took care of it.” Sam said.

“For real? Is he going to come back?”

“No, turns out the bastard was attached to the dress of the first girl he killed, his wife.” Dean stated.

“Figures. But where did you find the dress?”

“Sam found it in a glass box in his living room.”

“Oh...wow...Okay, you’re never using me as bait ever again.” Still a little disoriented I gathered all the strength I had in that moment to get up. Dean helped me of course, being a gentleman, not taking his eyes off me.

“Gotcha!” He said.

*****

When we finally got back to the motel Sam decided he was going to go grocery shopping for the trip back home and later go to a bar. I thought Dean was going to go as well so I can shower and hit the sack (the trip back home was going to last 24 hours and I wasn’t not much of a sleeper while being on the road because I could never get comfortable) but he decided to stay with me. Maybe now we can finally talk about that night and establish what we are.

When Sam left I couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. I have wanted to talk about this with Dean for so long, constantly thinking about what I will say and how I will approach the subject and now that moment was here and I was scared shitless. I didn’t do that kind of shit, at all. I would usually just sleep with a guy and leave. I don’t have time for relationships nor commitment and Dean was the only one pushing those barely touched buttons (last real relationship I had was back in high school and it didn’t end well; the asshole cheated).

“I thought you are going with Sam to get drunk?” I asked nervously wanting to start a conversation.

“Nah, I can do that here...” He said smirking. “With you.”

Oh...

“Are you trying to tell me something, Dean?” I asked trying to act confident. God, he was driving me crazy.

“You know what exactly I’m trying to tell you babe.” He said after he took a sip from the beer bottle he opened seconds before. I on the other hand was standing inches away from him leaning against the wall because I was too afraid my knees would give up and I would hit the floor. His voice, his face....his everything....UGH. He was making me feel like I’m 15 and hormonal again. He then proceeded to get even closer to me, eyeballing every inch of me in that dress; practically stripping me naked with his eyes. He put the bottle on the table and went towards me, he was so close I could see every line, freckle and bump on his face. Plus those green eyes...not possible to describe the beauty of them. His right hand was above me while the other found a way to my thigh slowly but surely dragging his fingertip across my skin, slowly lifting my dress. He pinned me down against the wall while I was trying not to completely lose it and tear his clothes off.

“That dress looks perfect on you.” He said.

“You’re not subtle with your eyeballing at all, you know?” As I said that his hand went a little higher slowly brushing his fingers across my already wet panties making me gasp a little and spread my legs. He knew how to open “the gates of heaven” as he called them. Cheeky...

“I couldn’t help it; I was barely controlling myself back there.” He stated as he pressed his forehead against mine. “My dick was so hard when I saw you, it hurt like a bitch.” And then boom, his fingers went in my panties immediately finding my clit and slowly rubbing me with his thump. Holy shit...I forgot just how much I missed his touch. I let out a moan while my eyes never left his. The air was filled with lust and nothing but lust. I couldn’t wait for him to devour me whole.

“Glad you enjoyed the view.” I managed to say. I decided today was my day to play though. I wanted to be in charge so badly so I took his hand out of my panties, kissed his cheek, barely touching the skin, and went to my bed. He followed me like a puppy. I took off my dress reveling my white bra and white panties (and no there were not matching but who cares).

“Is it just me or did you get even hotter?” He asked eyes wide open. He was like a child after Christmas morning. I smiled as my confidence was sky high and pushed him onto the bed. Positioning myself on his lap I pulled on his shirt telling him to lift himself up so I could kiss him. As soon as he did I crashed my lips onto his, and my tongue entered in his mouth, exploring, biting and teasing the shit out of him. My hands were in his hair pulling slightly as his hands went onto my hips desperately trying to tell me to move. I started off with little trusts as my lips attacked his neck. Pretty sure I left many love bites.

“God, I want you.” He said pulling my pony tail to look at me. “You’re driving me crazy woman!”

“Just doing my job, sir.” I said playfully.

Suddenly I found myself in Dean’s arms in the air before he dropped me onto the bed. Wasting no time he took off his clothes, boxers included and boy oh boy how my lungs stopped working. I was in a trance looking at this perfect man who was about to sin with me.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?” I asked while my eyes were on his hard dick scanning every vain and practically drooling.

“Why are you still dressed?”

“Oh...”

Taking off my underwear he took my face and kissed me as he his body was on top of mine. It looked like he thought he was gonna be in charge...oh honey. My hand went and grabbed his dick as I broke the kiss to look at him. He looked at me with confusion all over his face as I said: “My turn.”

He melted instantly. I knew he liked it when someone bosses him around in bed and gives him “sexy rules”-not so long ago we got drunk (like we usually do on a Sunday night) and talked about sex. Before I completely blacked out I remembered him saying something about him being a sub while his brother was laughing his butt off. Poor guy was too drunk to see his brother sitting sober as a bird in the library reading a book.

“Oh...” He managed to say as I pushed him back onto the bed. I kissed every inch of him; lips, neck, collarbones, biting here and there; stomach, going lower and lower. He was breathing heavily, before I reached his dick and licked the tip first; then he lost his mind. He grabbed my pony tail as I took him all in my mouth, moving slowly up and down. Because I didn’t have gag reflex I could take him whole with ease. Every time I reached the tip I would vacuum slightly making him moan. Those moans were the hottest thing I have ever heard.

“God, that feels so good.” He said trying to stay sane but failing.

I did that a few times before going back up and kissing him again. He was in shock, it looks like he didn’t expect for me to stop. “I don’t want you to cum just yet.” I said.

“Ugh.”

“I love when you’re frustrated.” I giggled.

“I hope it amuses you because it’s killing me.”

I decided to stop playing around and positioned myself on top of his tip as I sat down with ease. His facial expression changed immediately as I slowly started to move, riding him.

“ Fuck.” He cussed.

Deep breaths and moans filled the room, his hands were on my hips and mine were on my boobs cupping them; preventing them from jumping up and down (It hurts like a bitch after). He begged me to speed up soon after moaning my name over and over again. I could see he wasn’t going to last much longer which exited me because I was close too. Considering the fact I prefer when a man is on top of me this was AMAZING. He was hitting all the right places and I was in heaven.

“Dean I’m close!” I yelled.

“I’m too...oh god.”

Jumping up and down on him I could feel my orgasm approaching. I felt like million bucks as he came first after hitting my g-spot so hard I lost my shit and came after him. I was shaking and couldn’t feel my legs as I collapsed next to him.

“Holy shit.” I said panting.

“What was...” He was still trying to catch his breath.

“Mind-blowing?”

“Best sex I ever had.” He added.

“I think I came so hard my body is dead. I can’t feel my legs at all...nor arms.” I said smiling like an idiot.

“I was that good, huh?” Dean asked with a big ass grin on his face.

“Yes.”

It finally hit me that we still haven’t had the talk. I really wanted to know where I was with him.

“Hey, um...what are we?” I finally spilled out.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we are friends but we also fuck like animals and get jealous if someone flits with our fuck buddy but-“ I was cut off by his lips on mine. This kiss was different though. It was like he was trying to show me just how much he cared about me; it was much more loving and not driven by lust.

“You’re not just my fuck buddy.” He said breaking the kiss. “I really like you. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time, and I’m scared with the life we live what’s gonna happen but I’m willing to try if you’re too.”

“You know my answer.” I just said and kissed him.

Too bad we didn’t have time for round two because Sam came back early for some reason and found us both naked in my bed. Poor moose was traumatized for the next 2 weeks.

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nothing-but-paisley · 21 days

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Ooh what's Bad Bones?

It's a short story I'm kicking around. This baby's got it all:

generational trauma

nature-as-gothic

heavily symbolic dead steel mills

a shit ton of rivers

just rust belt things

goth lesbians

a murder mystery

home remodeling (i learned it from you, anne)

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it's not vc related 😅

Excerpt:

These Appalachian foothills are older than the Atlantic Ocean, which sundered them from what are now the Scottish Highlands. Older than the moon, maybe. They might have been taller than the Himalayas once, worn down over unthinkable eons, and the fossils inside them are ancient and strange. I used to go hunting for them in the shale, a serious and lonely child, splitting rocks to find the ghosts of ferns. Seeing the skeletal ridges of land again after months or years away, I can always feel their age.

Anna looks over at me from the driver’s seat and grins at the song that’s just come on the radio (Tom Petty's "American Girl"), her black hair caught in the hot green-smelling wind. Soon we’ll be poking around the hundred-year-old rooms of all the little houses we can maybe afford in the city, old frame constructions of the kind realtors call good bones.

As we crawl up the winding tree-lined way to Mt. Washington for a showing, Anna points out a derelict red brick house crawling with weeds and honeysuckle, the rotting front porch sagging like skin, a blue tarp hanging from the upper window like the tattered sail of a ghost ship.

“Good bones,” she drawls in a vampire voice and bites at my shoulder through dark denim, making me laugh.

“Mm, yeah.” The weather is unusually sunny, and the scent of grass and hot pavement is making me crave a cigarette, an old adolescent vice. “Meat’s a little stringy though.”

Just past this neighborhood, at the western peak of the ridge across the river from the lean dark skyscrapers of downtown, is an area called Duquesne Heights, once known as Coal Hill. Its houses are notorious for foundation issues caused by mine subsidence. My grandmother’s house was built in a similarly precarious place, on top of abandoned coal pits that could swallow a house without warning. Once after a lightning storm, the old strip mines caught fire underground and coal smoke rose up from unseen holes in the ground like the mouth of hell was open. I remember being terrified of falling through the sweet grassy earth and into the burning coal. It was a fear that never really went away.

My dad always avoided the basement of his childhood home—bad bones down there.

#ask paisley #i feel like it's a little trite idk #this one's very rough still

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spectrewavesllp · 1 year

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Spectrewaves Paranormal Laynee & Don in Washington Iowa USA at The Victorian View Venue Mansion conducting a Private Paranormal Investigation Encounters Paranormal Activity during the investigation

Paranormal Kinect Figures were caught in the Attic on Video with a 3D Mapping Camera by Laynee & Don of Spectrewaves

Laynee & Don of Spectrewaves Paranormal were setting up equipment in the Attic of the Victorian View in Washington Iowa USA they began a Spirit Box Session when they captured unseen figures on Spectrewaves SLS Kinect Camera

(Here’s the Video Link)

https://youtu.be/9BVfShlKljg

#Paranormal #Kinect #ParanormalFigures #HauntedAttic #spiritbox #hauntedlocations #Spirits #VictorianView #hauntedbanquet #TheVictorianView #HauntedBridalstore #ParanormalVideo #hauntings #mappingcamera #LayneeLoy #Don #SpectrewavesParanormal #hauntedhall #haunted #Spectrewaves #Spectrewavesllpparanormal #Spectrewavesllp #ParanormalInvestigation #ghosthunters #ghosthunt #HauntedMansion #ParanormalEncouter #Washington #Iowa #USA #TheVictorianViewVenue #VictorianMansion #ghoststories #HauntedAdventures #ghostadventure #PrivateParanormalInvestigation #Encounters #Paranormalactivity #investigation #Paranormalequipment #Attic #Victorianghost #WashingtonIowaUSA #SpiritBoxSession #paranormalstudy #paranormalresearch #paranormalresearchers #Paranormalcaptured #unseen #Paranormalfigures #hauntedvenue #hauntediowa #ghosthuntiowa #GhosthuntWashington #HauntedJourney #SLSKinectCamera #SLS #Ghoststop #Paranormalevidence #Paranormalsightings #Paranormalinvestigators #paranormalinvestigator #haunts #afterlife #energy #Parapsychology #phenomena #apparitionalexperience #documentedParanormalEvidence #ParanormalVideos #ghostbusters #soul #ghosthuntersequipment #Paranormalunsight #melmeter #spiritbox #franksbox #tempest #Intelligentinteraction #paranormalinteraction #paranormalnews #spiritcommunication #otherside #metaphysical #ParanormalInvestigationlowa

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spookyagentfmulder · 8 months

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This X-File wasn't going anywhere, and judging by the way things were shaking out if he didn't get his hands on something soon he and Scully were on a flight back to Washington. Agent Fox Mulder didn't want to admit that all of this had been a waste of time and so of course desperate times usually called for desperate measures.

And boy, was he feeling pretty desperate.

Now, Mulder wasn't a stranger to roaming around and peeking his curious little head into the local palm reader's. It gave him something to do when he didn't feel like going back to the hotel right away. In this case, this wasn't just some person with a crystal ball and a suspiciously stereotypical idea of what a fortune teller looked like; this seemed like at least someone who was a bit more eccentric, if not original.

"Mr. Scout?" Mulder called out, preparing his FBI badge just in case, "Mr. Doyle Scout? Are you in the room with us?" Nothing like a little ghost hunting humor to liven (ha) up the mood.

@thedipshits

#thedipshits #hope this is alright #wasn't sure how ya boy's place was set up so I left it pretty vague #;on a case -IC

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kummatty · 6 months

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hello. I think you have a great blog and amazing tastes and I was wondering if you had any book recommendations? fiction or non-fiction, though I tend to read more fiction. I'm afraid I do not read enough books that were written outside North America/Europe and I would love to change that. anyway, sorry for the disturbance, I hope you are well <3

hi dear anon, i hope you're well too <3 im so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever! i hope you see it. thank u for ur kind words, i'm happy to share some recs! they'll be a mix of authors from north america/europe as well as outside those regions, and most will be writers of color bc that's who I tend to look for and read, i also gravitate towards fiction but ill try to do both. * = i've read it and would definitely recommend, and the rest are on my tbr that ive heard good things about and/or really want to get to myself.

I would also look out for presses that publish specifically translations and non-Western stories - two lines press, europa, transit books, open books, greywolf press - and you can look to who they're interacting w as well to expand your search for these kinds of books. happy reading <3

fiction:

vagabonds! by eloghosa osunde*

annie john by jamaica kincaid*

if an egyptian cannot speak english by noor naga*

the remainder by alia trabucco zerán, trans. sophie hughes*

sula by toni morrison*

scattered all over the earth by yoko tawada, trans. margaret mitsutani*

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhader*

a passage north by anuk arudpragasam*

the hour of the star by clarice lispector*

an unkindness of ghosts by rivers solomon*

the umbrella country by bino a. realuyo*

the unpassing by chia-chia lin*

aquarium by david vann*

bright by duanwad pimwana, trans. mui pooposakul

hostages of memory by haitham hussein, trans. jona fras

mother of 1084 by mahasweta devi, trans. samik bandyopadhyay

on a woman's madness by astrid h. roemer, trans. lucy scott

the wild hunt by emma seckel

ornamental by juan cárdenas, trans. lizzie davis

i stared at the night of the city by bakhtiyar ali, trans. kareem abdulrahman*

men in the sun, and other palestinian stories by ghassan kanafani (various translators)*

funny boy by shyam selvadurai

violets by kyung-sook shin, trans. anton hur

afterparties by anthony veasna so

nonfiction:

a map to the door of no return by dionne brand*

out of the sun: on race and storytelling by esi edugyan*

uncommon measure: a journey through music, performance, and the science of time by natalie hodges*

from a native daughter: colonialism and sovereignty in hawai'i by haunani-kay trask

braiding sweetgrass: indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge, and the teachings of plants by robin wall kimmerer

care work: dreaming disability justice by leah lakshmi piepzina-samarasinha

don't forget us here: lost and found at guantanamo by mansoor adayfi

the jakarta method: washington's anticommunist crusade and the mass murder program that shaped our world by vincent bevins

a still life: a memoir by josie george

#i would love to know if you read any of these!

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bookgeekgrrl · 10 months

Text

My media this week (23-29 Jul 2023)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰 The Rift (seapigeon) - 53K, modern college no powers AU - there's witchcraft and ghosts and curses and art student steve and science nerd bucky and it was all very good!

😍 Six Kids and a Winnebago series (Oddree13) - 91K, omegaverse Steddie - this series is a thoroughly delightful domestic omegaverse(lite) set post s4 - excellent characterizations, great sense of time/place & really fantastic music references

🥰 Longing and Belonging (enjambament) - 44K, geraskier - governess!Jaskier, lots of great family stuff with Ciri & Yen [reread, a definite fave]

😍 if I'm gonna get back to you someday (napricot) - 46K, post Endgame fixit with "a clusterfuck of Steves" from different multiverses - so many good emotions!

😊 Roommate Wanted (Lihhelsing, tinkerbclla) - 66K, modern Steddie roommates-to-lovers, part epistolary with a dash of identity porn

💖💖 +110K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

the premature awakening of Bucky Barnes [at the hands of stupid, sexy, Post-run Steve] (MaddieWritesStucky (Madeleine_Ward)) - MCU: stucky, 3K - modern no powers stucky, several months on in the relationship between stripper!Bucky & architecht Steve [reread]

Galatea (saltandbyrne) - Inception: Arthur/Eames, 16K - a very good and delightfully melancholic modern myth telling

Shelter Case (Coragyps) - Suits: Mike/Harvey, 7K - futuristic dark dystopian omegaverse [reread]

Let Me Keep You (LeeHan) - MCU: stucky, 4K - Steve's oral fixation PWP [reread]

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

D20: Adventuring Party - s1, e15-18

D20: A Crown of Candy - s5, e15-17

Good Omens - s2, e1-6

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

What Next: TBD Plus - Why Tech Lays Women Off First

⭐ Wiser Than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus - Julia Gets Wise with Jane Fonda

Fire Island: The Tea - Thomás Matos

50 Years of Hip-Hop - 1991: "Mind Playing Tricks on Me" by Geto Boys

50 Years of Hip-Hop - 1993: "Hip Hop Hooray" by Naughty by Nature

Hot and Bothered - Live from Pemberley: The 2005 Movie (with Helen Zaltzman and Jenny Owen Youngs)

Re: Dracula - July 24: There Will be Some Trouble

Rachel Maddow Presents: Déjà News - Episode 6: “Hello America, this is Addis Ababa.”

50 MPH - 7 MPH / A Crash Course in Jan De Bont (with Bilge Ebiri)

⭐ Endless Thread - Best of Summer: The Loudest Sound

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Mapping the Gay Guides

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Spaces for Spies

Switched on Pop - Barbie and the plasticity of pop

Shedunnit - Cricket and Crime

Re: Dracula - July 26: Just Starting for Home

Ologies with Alie Ward - Sciuridology (SQUIRRELS) with Karen Munroe

Stuff The British Stole - The Fever Tree Hunt

The Waves Plus - How a Drag Queen Recreated the American Dream

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Knight’s Spider Web Farm

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Amazon Night Hikes

Our Opinions Are Correct - Encore Episode: We're in the wrong timeline, with Connie Willis and R.F. Kuang

99% Invisible #546 - The Country of the Blind

50 Years of Hip-Hop - 1981: "Rapture" by Blondie

⭐ Decoder Ring Plus - A Brief History of Making Out

Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Zelda: A Beep to the Past

Dear Prudence Plus - My Boyfriend Hid His Hobby From Me—Civil War Reenactments. Help!

⭐ Into It - Country Music’s Race Problem

What Next: TBD Plus - Washington vs. A.I.

Rivals: Music's Greatest Feuds - Robbie Robertson vs. Levon Helm: Broken Band

Re: Dracula - July 28: Four Days in Hell

Re: Dracula - July 29: Another Tragedy

Hit Parade Plus - The Bridge: Don’t Believe Me, Just Watch

⭐ Strong Songs - "Killing Me Softly With His Song," as sung by Lauryn Hill, Roberta Flack, & Lori Lieberman

Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me! - WWDTM: Randall Park

Fire Island: The Tea - Bambi Sue: Dredging Up the Past

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Presenting The Who

People Just Wanna Have Fun [Kool & The Gang] {2023}

The Beach Boys Radio • Popular

"One Thing Leads To Another" [The Fixx] Radio

Dream Theater

Presenting Bruno Mars

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

So Long Version 2 Chapter 2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: If version 2 is the first time you're reading this, I hope you enjoy! If you've read version 1 and are reading this also, thanks for the support! Let me know which version you prefer.

Series Masterlist

Ages 12 and 16 July 23, 1995

Dean’s POV

The beds at this motel were probably some of the best quality I’d ever seen. The mattresses weren’t lumpy or too hard and they didn’t smell musty or like cigarette smoke. There weren’t any questionable stains on the blankets either. It was actually a comfortable bed, and I didn’t take that for granted. I would undoubtedly be sleeping on a bed that was much less comfortable and much more sketchy in the next day or two.

We were in Washington right now, but we’d just finished the job last night. It had been my second official hunt, and I was still thrilled that I was finally allowed to be involved, to actually get to chase down and kill the monster instead of being stuck at home doing research.

It was only a simple salt and burn case, but I’d still had a lot of fun. Things had gotten exciting when the ghost showed up as we were searching the abandoned house she used to live in for the object she was tied to – it turned out to be the knife she had been killed with, still covered in her blood – but other than getting a little bruised up from being thrown across the room, nobody had gotten hurt.

It had been a long night though, and so, exhausted, I hadn’t been able to do more than strip down to my t-shirt and boxers before collapsing on top of the bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

I had slept deeply. I was slowly making my way towards consciousness, clinging to the dream I was already forgetting. It was about me and Jenna. We were… out with friends? On a date? The details were hazy and fading quick. I think we were at the movies maybe. I was startled into alertness by Sam’s gasp.

I grabbed the knife from under my pillow, rolled onto my back, and sat up, scanning the room for a threat. There was nothing though. Dad was gone, probably either talking with Ben or gone out to grab breakfast and coffee. There was just Sam standing at the foot of my bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, staring intently at my ankle. Staring at the name that was tattooed there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He cried out in the voice of a little brother outraged at being left in the dark.

“Shit,” I muttered as I got out of bed and started getting dressed to hide the evidence. But the damage had already been done.

“Dean!” Sam protested.

“Let it go Sammy,” I ordered, rifling through my duffel bag for some clean clothes, deciding a shower was in order.

“Let it go?” Sam echoed, trailing me towards the bathroom. “Dean, this is huge! I thought we didn’t have secrets. You guys should have told me!” he insisted.

I set my clothes on the counter and was ready to threaten him to keep his mouth shut when something seemed to occur to him.

“Wait,” he said, backtracking a little. “Jenna does know, doesn’t she?”

“I’m only going to tell you this once Sam, so listen up. I don’t care if you’re my brother. If you ever tell anyone, especially her, I will end you,” I warned before slamming the door in his face.

Great, I thought. I’d been able to keep this thing a secret for less than a year. I wasn’t at all sure that I could trust Sam not to say something. Sure, he could keep a secret if he wanted to, but I didn’t know if I would be able to convince him that this needed to stay between us. Anxious thoughts swirled in my head throughout my shower, but by the time I got out I had a persuasive argument ready to go.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Sam was on the couch, restlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood to face me.

“I won’t say anything,” Sam rushed out at the same time I said, “We need to talk.”

“What?” I asked, not having heard him over my own statement.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “But… why haven’t you told her?”

I sighed. I should have expected this. Should have, but didn’t. I’d planned out how to persuade him not to tell anyone, had considered potential arguments he might throw my way. I hadn’t anticipated him immediately complying or the simple question that followed. I ran a hand through my hair as I considered how to answer.

“You know why,” I finally said, deciding that the argument I’d planned out would work as an explanation to his question. He just stared at me expectantly.

“I haven’t exactly made a secret of the fact that I don’t want to know my soulmate. That I don’t want her stuck living this life,” I told him.

“You love this life,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. I do. But it’s dangerous and it means never having a home. I won’t force her into that,” I explained.

“But she’s already a part of it. You won’t be forcing her into anything,” he responded.

“Just because she’s in this life now doesn’t mean she has to be in it forever. She’ll be able to make her own decisions in a few years. She can find somewhere she likes and stay there. She can get out of hunting.”

“Who says she wants to?” Sam asked.

“Well then that’s her choice if she doesn’t want to quit. I’m not going to be the reason though. I don’t want her hunting with me out of a feeling of obligation. I won’t do that to her.” I told him.

“You keep talking about her being able to do what she wants. What if what she wants is to be with you? Did you consider that?” he argued.

I had considered it. I decided that until I had a reason to think that she was interested in something more, I would leave things the way they were. I was happy just to have her in my life, in any way. I wasn’t going to push for more when what I had was already more than I could have ever hoped for. My soulmate was with me every day. And I didn’t have to worry about scaring her away. She already knew the whole truth about me and my life.

Frustrated that he kept pushing, I snapped, “I thought you weren’t going to say anything.”

“I’m not,” he insisted.

“Then why won’t you let it go?” I demanded. He scowled at me.

“If I’m going to be keeping this a secret for you, you can at least tell me why it has to be a secret. I told you I won’t say anything and I won’t, but I still don’t see why you don’t just tell her.”

“I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’ll understand,” I told him. “Can you just believe that I’m doing what’s best?”

He thought about it for a while.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine?” I asked, relieved, but surprised he wasn’t putting up more of a fight.

“Yeah. Fine. Because you have less than a year before Jenna turns 16. You know she’s going to find out then,” he said confidently.

I hadn’t been letting myself think that far ahead. I wasn’t sure what to expect when her birthday came around again. Would she find my name somewhere on her body? Would she be happy or disappointed? Would she want to be with me or would she rather stay away and have a normal life? Would it even be my name she found?

“Maybe,” I said, humoring him for the moment. “But until then, this stays between us. Actually, this stays between us until I say otherwise,” I told him.

"Fine," he agreed. He wasn't happy about it, but he felt secure in the knowledge that he had less than a year before it would no longer be a secret. I both hoped he was wrong and hoped he was right. "Jerk," he added a little frustratedly.

I just smirked at him.

"Bitch."

Ages 15 and 16 September 13, 1995

I was sitting at the table in the Winchester’s motel room with John and my dad, discussing the case they were working on. Sam was in our motel room studying for a big test and Dean was just getting back from his afternoon out with the sister of the latest victim, trying to get more information.

“Hopefully Dean learned something useful so we can go in more prepared,” John was saying as we all heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. He had come up with a plan to catch the monster, but though we had theories, we still weren’t 100% sure what it was.

When the two of them had caught wind of this case, finding a newspaper article about a 14 year old girl who had gone missing – the third missing girl in this Colorado town this month – they’d immediately packed us up. The latest girl’s body hadn’t been found at the time, but the previous two were found a few days after their disappearances, covered in deep cuts, bodies drained of blood and dumped in rarely used alleyways. The girl from the newspaper article was found a day after we got to town.

My dad and John were able to find out almost immediately that the girl had an older sister and instructed Dean to start trying to get close to her. They figured the teenage girl might spill a little more information – especially when a mysterious new boy with a handsome face and charming smile was asking the questions – than her parents would.

“Well?” John asked as soon as Dean had the door closed behind him.

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing,” Dean admitted disappointedly. “She didn’t say anything different than what everyone else has been saying. And she was more than happy to answer my questions so I don’t think she was hiding anything. Maybe I just didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Alright. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We knew she might not know anything. I’m sure you did just fine,” my dad reassured Dean.

“Maybe. I’ll try to figure out if there’s anything else I can ask her that might give us something useful,” Dean said.

“No need. Jenna, why don’t you go get ready to head to the library,” John said. I stood up to follow his instructions and he turned to the array of weapons on the table.

“The library?” Dean asked. “You guys are doing research? We don’t even have enough information to go off of to know where to start.”

“Don’t we?” John countered, already irritated. I froze where I was. He never handled it well when Dean questioned him, no matter how innocently. He always expected instant compliance, a “Yes, sir!” kind of attitude.

“Ok, well I’ll come with then,” Dean replied.

“No you won’t. You’ll stay here with your brother,” John told him.

“Why? What’s the point in me sitting in a motel room when I could be with you guys doing something useful?” He argued. “The more people we have looking, the more information we can get through.”

“We don’t need more people. Jenna’s going alone.” John told him, the “end of discussion” clear in his voice.

“What?” Dean spit out through clenched teeth. I looked at him and saw him looking disbelievingly between the two men.

“You heard me,” John said, daring his son to question his decision. “We made a plan while you were out.”

“While I was out?” Dean said incredulously. “You mean while I was working the case? While I was doing what you told me to, you ‘made a plan’ to send Jenna out by herself?”

I’d never seen him argue like this with his father. With jerks at school, sure. With me and Sam, occasionally. But with John? I’d never seen him truly question his father, and I was worried where this might be headed and how ugly it might get.

“Yes, we did,” John said. “And the plan isn’t going to change just because we don’t have all the information.”

“Did the three of you somehow forget that this… this thing is taking teenage girls? Did you forget that all three of the girls he took had dark brown hair, pretty much exactly the same color as Jenna’s? What about the fact that he’s taking these girls from the library? That he only goes after them when they’re alone? Tell me how this isn’t enough information to know that sending her in is a terrible plan!”

“We’re not discussing this any further Dean,” John said with finality, moving to usher me from the room. Dean stepped between us, back to me, breath heaving.

“You can’t use her as bait!” he yelled. He ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign that he was beyond stressed. I set my hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. He took one quick look at me, his eyes wild, before he turned to look at my dad.

“Ben, how could you be ok with this?” He asked.

“I don’t like the idea either,” my dad said as he looked at me.

“So why-” Dean started.

“Because it’s the only plan I can see that catches this thing before another innocent girl is taken,” he said firmly.

“Jenna is an innocent girl,” Dean said.

“But not an ignorant one,” John countered. “She knows what she’s getting into. We have no leads on this thing other than it being in the library. It’s managed to avoid all security cameras so we don’t have any idea what it looks like. We don’t even know if it managed to sneak around so well because it works there or if it was just that careful about scouting out the place ahead of time.”

“Exactly! That’s why you can’t just let this thing take her, Dad! How bad do you think it’ll hurt her before we manage to find her? Who says we even find her on time? You can’t do it.”

John stiffened.

“Excuse me? I can’t do it? You’re giving me orders now?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“You heard me,” he said, repeating his dad’s earlier words. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Sensing that the situation was about to escalate to a point of no return, my dad stepped in.

“We’re not going to let it take her, Dean. Of course not. We’ll be there, waiting for it to try and grab her. And when it does, we’ll be ready.”

“You’ll be ready?” Dean said with an edge to his voice, never taking his eyes off of John. “You don’t know what the thing even is. How can you be ready?”

“We’re bringing everything. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll have what we need to kill it. I’m not going to risk my only daughter,” Dad said, trying to reason with him.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Dean finally turned to me.

“And you?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet through this whole thing. Are you ok with this? They can’t make you if you don’t want to.”

“Dean,” I started, trying to decide the words to say that would calm him down, ease his nerves. “I’m ok with it,” I finally decided on. There was nothing more I could really say.

“You’re ok with it? You’re fine with being bait? Jenna, I know you. You try to hide it, but I can see how scared you are every time you come on a hunt. You’re telling me you’re not scared now?”

“No,” I said, and was surprised to realize I meant it.

“No?” He questioned disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “Because I know you’ll be there,” I told him confidently, looking at John to see if he would contradict me and insist Dean stay behind. That’s what the plan had been originally, both John and my dad thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle it. When he just shook his head – not in denial but in irritated acquiescence – I continued. “Because I trust you. Because I’ve never had to worry about not being safe when you’re around. Because I know you would die before you would let anything happen to me.”

He looked at me for a few moments, processing the words I’d spoken with such conviction.

“You’re sure?” He asked one more time.

“I’m sure,” I told him. He nodded, resigned to the plan if not happy about it.

“Alright,” was all he said.

“Great,” John said sourly. “Now that that’s settled, we’ve got a job to finish. Get moving.”

~~~~~

An hour later I sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the library I could find. My biology textbook was laying open in front of me and the rest of the table was scattered with my notes and some old assignment sheets. We’d only been at this school for a few days, but I tried to carry all my notes from previous schools. It wasn’t uncommon to cover the same topic multiple times with all of the school-hopping we did.

Dean, John, and my dad were hiding behind one of the big bookcases behind me, waiting. I was actually doing homework, partly to keep myself calm and pass the time, partly because it’s what the monster would be expecting.

We were covering the digestive system currently and the teacher had assigned the class an essay taking her through the full digestive process from the perspective of the food that was being digested. It was definitely one of the weirdest assignments I’d ever been given. Unfortunately, I let myself concentrate a little too hard on my work, not paying attention to my surroundings the way I should have been.

“Excuse me,” a voice said to my right, causing me to jump a little in my seat. He was a man, probably in his 40s, wearing a little name tag identifying him as Trevor. “Sorry to startle you. I’m just letting you know the library will be closing soon, so if you could please finish up, that would be great.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, a little flustered. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. I started packing up my stuff, already mentally preparing myself for having to come back here tomorrow to try again, when I realized the man wasn’t leaving. Tense now, I looked at him. “Was there something else?” I asked.

“Actually, now that you mention it.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and grabbed me, moving the needle towards my arm. He was quick, but I was quicker, reflexively swatting the incoming hand away with the arm he wasn’t holding in place, knocking the syringe out of his grasp and onto the floor where it rolled away.

“You little bitch,” he spat as he caught the fist I threw at his face. “Hard way it is then. You’re going to regret that. I enjoy a fight.”

I threw my knee straight up towards his crotch and he dropped one of my arms to block it. In blocking this attack, just as I’d anticipated, he’d dropped his head down to see. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer as I rammed the top of my head as hard as I could into his nose.

Momentarily stunned, he let me go and I ran in the other direction, wondering where the guys were. I meant it when I said I trusted Dean with my life. I obviously trusted my dad just as much and John too. But that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened to them. Trevor took only a second to recover before he lunged forward and grabbed me. He wrestled my hands behind my back and started to force me towards the back exit but he was stopped by my dad stepping out in front of him, gun pointed at his face.

“Let her go,” he commanded.

“How cute,” Trevor said. “I suppose you guys figured you’d set an easy trap for me in what I can only guess is some misguided revenge attempt. I’m afraid you’ve underestimated your opponent though. Those bullets won’t kill me. So now you both die.”

“I suggest you listen to the man,” John said from behind and slightly to the left of us. He also had a gun trained on the man. And then I understood. They’d taken so long to intervene because they were getting into position, sneaking around behind the bookshelves to surround us. I knew where Dean would be, behind and slightly to the right, but I didn’t look. Didn’t let this monster know we had a fourth person on our side.

“I don’t think so. Like I said,” Trevor said, still unconcerned about his odds, “It’ll take more than a bullet to kill me.”

“You mean because you’re a shapeshifter?” John asked as if he were having a casual conversation. “That’s why all three of our guns are loaded with silver bullets.”

That’s when I heard the gun cocking directly beside me. John had been the distraction, the way to get Trevor to turn his back so that Dean could get close.

“You’ve got one more chance to let her go,” Dean warned, gun pressed up directly against the man’s head.

“And why would I do that? I let her go and you kill me.” He breathed out, afraid now that he understood the guns were a very real threat to his life.

“If you don’t let her go, if you hurt her in any way, you can be sure that you’ll be wishing for death by the time we’re done,” Dad said. Dean grunted his agreement.

I could feel the hands on my wrists minutely tightening and loosening as he made a decision. The next thing I knew I was being shoved into Dean and the monster – shapeshifter, apparently– bolted for the door.

Dean and I fell in a heap on the floor, him flat on his back, me on his chest. I heard a gunshot, only one, and knew it was over. I didn’t know which of our dads had been the one to fire the shot.

I took a deep breath, letting Dean pull me into a seated position and hold me against his chest while murmuring into my hair, “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I didn’t respond. He knew I would do it again if it was ever needed the same way he would always offer himself up for the sake of others. I just listened to the sound of his elevated heartbeat and let myself enjoy the feeling of being held by him.

“How did you know it was a shapeshifter?” I asked once Dean had let me go.

“The real guy is dead behind one of the bookshelves,” John answered. “We knew what he was the second he came over to talk to you. Now let’s get this cleaned up and get out of here.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at his order, but I knew he was right. The real Trevor’s body would be left for the police to find. We needed to take care of the shapeshifter though.

We drove to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. It was mostly empty inside and everything was made of concrete or metal. It was the closest and safest place we could find to burn a body.

Once it was taken care of, we piled back into John’s truck and drove back to the motel.

Ages 15 and 17 March 18, 1996

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call from down the hall as he stalked towards me. He sounded annoyed. I knew how it looked, Tony casually leaning next to me, arm braced against the lockers. The halls were mostly empty as everyone went home for the day. I knew I had a big smile on my face too, knew the conclusion Dean had undoubtedly come to, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him playing overprotective big brother. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him as he stopped within inches of me.

“What’s up, Dean?” I asked calmly. I didn’t fail to notice the way he angled his body slightly between the two of us.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered. “I thought you were going to meet me and Sam outside.”

“I was. I am.” I corrected myself. “Tony was just telling me about all the horses his family owns and he said I could come over and ride if I want.” I told him, getting excited again. I looked at Tony who looked slightly nervous. He was a fairly attractive, semi popular guy. A sophomore, like me, he was still growing into his long legs and widening shoulders.

“You really think your dad is going to let you go to some guy’s house?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” I answered defensively. “You and Sam go to your friends’ houses all the time.” I noticed Tony wince a little and pushed Dean away, only able to do so because I took him by surprise. He still only backed away a single step.

“That’s because our dad doesn’t care what we do and you know it. Your dad is way more protective,” he countered. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do something as stupid as go to the home of some random boy by yourself.”

“You mean before you let me go,” I retorted. “Well news flash Dean, you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do. And what do you mean ‘stupid’? I want to go ride horses with a friend, not bungee jumping off a cliff above a shallow lake.”

“You’ve never ridden a horse before, Jenna! What if something goes wrong? You could fall off and hurt yourself!”

I was surprised he wasn’t backing down. He never used to have these kinds of arguments in public. He’d always been protective, but for the past year he’d been even worse. While deep down I appreciated his concern, right now I was just irritated.

“I have to drop my stuff off and let my dad know what’s going on, but I’ll try to be there by four if that works for you.” I told Tony, ignoring Dean for the moment.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tony said warily. “Whenever works for you. And if you don’t come, I’ll just assume your dad said no.” He told me, eyeing Dean before making a hasty escape. I huffed and turned to punch Dean in the shoulder.

“Really?! Why do you have to do this to me? You know how much I love horses! Why can’t you stop scaring away everyone I make friends with?!” I ranted. Dean just started walking for the door.

“I don’t scare away all of your friends. Only the jerks that are making moves on you. I mean, really Jenna? You think all he wants is to show you a few horses?” He mocked. He held the door open for me and, choosing to ignore his jab, I made a beeline for Sam, who had started walking once he saw us come out. Sighing, he closed the door and jogged a couple steps to catch up to me.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me! Did you think of that? I’m not an idiot, I know he’s hoping for more, but I also know he’ll back off if I tell him to. And even if he didn’t, don’t you think I can handle one teenage boy? My dad doesn’t have me train for nothing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I asked him, exasperated.

I watched as he physically reigned in the automatic response that wanted to shoot past his lips. He worked his jaw back and forth and took a breath as he thought of the best way to say it.

“Guys suck. Ok? And I can say that with absolute certainty seeing as I am one.”

“Dean-” I tried to interject.

“No, let me finish. I just don’t want to see you get involved with some guy who's only going to end up hurting you.”

I waited to make sure he was finished before answering.

“Yeah, but did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t interested?” How could I be? There wasn’t a boy in the world who stood a chance of gaining my attention when the most perfect one was already in my life, completely oblivious to how thoroughly he had ruined the chances of me ever being interested in anyone else. Of course I couldn’t tell him this, so there was no real way to assure him that I was telling the truth. “Zero chance of me being hurt. I promise.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly not sure if he believed me or not. “You could still fall off a horse though. I’m sure that would hurt.”

“Because the risk of falling off a horse is so much greater than getting hurt on a hunt?” I asked pointedly.

“Okay. You’re right,” he sighed after a moment of deciding whether or not to argue. “I’m sorry. You still have to get your dad to agree to it though,” he pointed out. I groaned and squared my shoulders, readying myself for the upcoming argument.

~~~~~

I was practically vibrating with excitement as Dean pulled into the driveway of Tony’s home. It had been one of Dad’s conditions, that Dean drove me. I could see several horses already and knew I’d be on one of them soon.

“Thanks Dean!” I said as I moved to get out of the car.

“Just a second,” he said, putting a hand on my knee to stop me. I paused with my hand on the handle and turned to him. “Just… promise you’ll be careful.” He finally got out. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when he worried. I knew it was only a brotherly concern no matter how much I might wish it was more.

“I will.” I told him with a soft smile. Then I jumped out of the car and headed towards where I saw Tony at the barn.

Chapter 3

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #original female character #original characters #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x soulmate!ofc #soulmates #soulmate au #so long v2

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