Latest Posts by aetherawasneverhere - Page 2
i wanna look pretty for my mom’s birthday party but i can’t fucking wear heels because I HAVE BIG ASS FEET AND THEY DONT MAKE HEELS AROUND HERE FOR SIZE ELEPHANT
reading the title "effects of smoking" in my biology text book with a fucking vape in hand is so ironic its like the universe is side eyeing me
happy 47th to daddy jens. hope our old man is getting spoiled rotten by his family today. i love him forever. <3
why are u chronically onlinjen go pay attention in class lil bro
i was having an exam while you were here so which one of us is chronically online (its still me)
thank you for the tag bb <3 @blossomingorchids
— TEN PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER
LAST SONG: paranoid - black sabbath
LAST BOOK: from blood and ash - jennifer l. armentrout (got recommended from a friend-)
LAST TV SHOW: supernatural bro grrr season 8 is killing me
LAST THING I GOOGLED: "whats the ph of pepsi" dont ask
LAST MOVIE: hereditary ehhehehehh
SWEET/SAVORY/SPICY: sweet :3
FAVOURITE COLOR: urple
LOOKING FORWARD TO: sending my hand written letter to jensen, jared, and misha (hopefully) and passing my fucking exams
CURRENT OBSESSION: spn, xmen, horror movie analysis videos-
no pressure tags mwah @rikiscupid @curly-fry-3 @rosenclaws
THEYRE THE SAME PERSON I SEE NO DIFFERENCE LIKE HAIRSTYLE + HAWAIIAN SHIRT
logan howlett
thats it. thats the post. i need him
idk how to phrase this but yk that feeling when you pride yourself on being a strong, independent woman but then you come across that one perfectly masculine man who just makes you want to melt into your soft, feminine side and just feel safe? yeah, that
BRO...
Spackle
pairings/characters: (pining)dean winchester x gn!reader, sam is also there
summary: in a desperate attempt to back burner his feelings for you, dean tries to fill the void with pointless sex. and goddamn does that hurt
warnings: miscommunication and clarification, not too much, ANGSTY THO and happy ending ^.^
word count: 3,265
A/N: this is a request!!! i had a blast writing this one, love me some pining winchesters heheh. to get added to my tag list just send me an ask!! <3
(p.s. i realize this story set up isn’t exactly how it was worded in the request and i’m so sorry i’m just now noticing this T.T,, if you want a redo, pls lmk and i’ll correct my ways. okay ily)
———————
Light conversation murmurs over a steady 80s country song selected on the jukebox of this oddly cozy dive bar. Another successful hunt, with the help of your beloved Winchesters, lead the trio to celebrate amongst a round of drinks. The past few weeks, you’ve been tagging along for hunt after hunt and have really enjoyed the time with the boys. However, the closer proximity to the older brother only worsens the ache in your chest.
You watch him now as he throws back an amber shot of burning whiskey. His face hardens in a subtle growl at the sting as he slams the empty glass down. You follow his lead, letting the pungent liquid scrape down your throat and settle into your stomach, already warming with alcohol.
“Damn, they’ve got some cheap whiskey,” Dean blows out air through tight lips, cringing at the lingering singe of the alcohol. You nod, eyes scrunched in disgust.
“Whiskey is all pain, next time it’s vodka,” you declare, shaking off the burn and taking a swig of your less threatening house ale.
“Vodka is a young man’s game. Weak,” Dean mocks, taking a few fries from the communal basket in the middle.
“Are you so insecure that you have to validate your drunkenness with the more painful whiskey? Vodka drunk is where it’s at, I’m sick of pretending it’s not,” you shrug, taking a few fries as well.
Sam just chuckles at your bickering, tapping his fingers with the beat for the song. After back-to-back cases like this, you’ve noticed Sam is more inclined to let loose and relax with you and Dean.
The waitress comes back to the table and your body tenses as Dean's eyes trace her curves, landing on her face.
“Hey, sweetheart, can we get another round?” Dean holds up his empty shot glass. You force your gaze away, trying to ignore the sizzling discomfort under your skin.
There’s a few lines exchanged between the two and you have to bite your tongue to keep your emotion off your face.
Soft footsteps echo away and you look up to see Dean's eyes lingering for a beat too long. You try to ignore the ache in your chest, it’s not your place to feel so strongly for Dean. He’s not yours to call you own and you have no right to feel as blindingly jealous as you do when he throws his fucking googly eyes at a girl you couldn’t beat in a lineup.
It doesn’t stop the way the pain halts your lungs though because you’re still forced to watch the man you love ogle the most beautiful woman in the room.
“God, I could use a night to just unwind,” Dean hints into his beer, taking a sip and setting it back down with a refreshed hiss.
You don’t respond, instead taking a deep gulp of your ale, trying to drown the words so close to crawling out of your throat. Part of the burnout you’re starting to experience has fallen victim to Dean and his goddamn charm. He can’t help but flirt with anything shiny, it’s his nature, but you wished he thought you were someone worth flirting with.
And unfortunately, what you didn’t know was that it killed Dean to have you around like this. The pent up tension of having you so close makes him itch. He wants so desperately to give into the pull he feels between you two but he’s scared. Actually scared of making you uncomfortable or messing it up. So instead he deflects all of his affection he pleads to shower you with and points at whoever else is in his line of sight. It barely keeps him contained.
Another hour or so passes and you’re drunk enough to feel the absence of pain for the man next to you. Dean is drunk enough to pretend the pretty waitress can spackle the crevasse you’ve cracked into his sternum.
As Dean bids a goodnight and charms the waitress into an early cut, you chug the rest of your ale and turn to Sam.
“Are you present enough to drive us back to the motel?” You ask, fluttering a toothpick between your fingers.
“You got it,” Sam sits up, pulling out a wad of cash and planting it on the table, taking one last swig of his water and- well, you don’t remember him ordering a water- leading you out the front door that Dean and the mystery woman disappeared through just a few minutes ago.
You toss Sam your keys, Dean having taken the Impala, and climb into your passenger seat, letting the soft hum of the radio melt your mind.
Sam helps you into the motel, you may have drunk past your feelings tonight. You claim Dean's bed as your own since he won’t be here tonight, it’s the least he owes you- soberly though, you knew that’s not true.
“You good, can I get you anything?” Sam asks, untying his shoes and loosening his flannel.
“Nah, ‘M good,” you shake your head, sitting up and taking off your uncomfortable layers. You successfully get down to your undershirt and jeans, stretching your sore muscles.
“You can always talk to me, yaknow,” Sam says passively as he digs in his duffle, pretending to look for something. He knows you, and he knows that you aren’t openly ready to ever share your deeper feelings so he tries not to make a big deal out of it but he wants to offer his support regardless.
“You’re too kind, Sam,” your breathy voice flows out as you settle in the bed. “Just a little frustrated. Don’t worry about it,” you say, settling into the cushion. Sam wants to press but leaves it be. He cares for you and he recognizes how stupid his brother is being, but unfortunately there isn’t anything else he can do other than offer his moral support.
With lack of overthinking anxieties for the bright green eyes that stain your lids, sleep takes you easy.
———
The next morning, god is kind as she doesn’t punish you with a hangover but instead a dry mouth and the need to piss like a racehorse. With such a quick dash to the bathroom, you don’t notice Dean passed out on the couch.
Handling your business, you follow up with brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your hands and face- readying yourself for the day.
You trudge to the kitchenette sink and go through two glasses of water before slowing down and turning to finally notice Dean on the couch and Sam’s absence. Your heart nearly stops at the unexpected placement of bodies in the room and lack thereof. Dean is snoring peacefully and you don’t remember hearing him stumble back in this morning.
Last night. Ugh, you don’t want to think about whatever Dean got up to last night after leaving the bar.
It’s almost 10 am at this point and if you wanna make good time, you should probably leave soon. You hope Sam will be back in time for you to say goodbye, but you need space, bad, and don’t think you can hold out much longer.
You set the glass in the sink and head over to pack up your items. The rustling wakes up Dean.
“What time is it?” He asks with a groan, rubbing his eyes. You look over your shoulder at him, his sleepy voice rubbing you like kindling, filling you up quickly with haze smoke. You shake your head, trying to exhale the heat.
“9:54am to be exact,” you clear your throat, stacking some books of yours you had shown Sam yesterday morning sometime.
“God, this couch sucks,” he complains, sitting up with a grunt. Your lips, against your will, curl in amusement at his inconvenience.
“I’m sure your hot date had a bed comfortable enough,” the words feel like poison on your tongue. Your comment is meant to be lighthearted and ‘wing-man’-y but the silence indicates that it didn’t land.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know,” he grumbles and you feel sick, thinking of how else they made it work. The Impala? A different motel? Hell, maybe the bar bathroom. Your thoughts full-circle back to the Impala and you’re bombarded with intrusive thoughts of how many men or women he’s taken in the back of his precious possession. In the same seats you’ve traveled in.
You start to miss the warm wave of alcohol in your belly. You need to be far from this man.
You don’t entertain the comment.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, looking lazily at your items as they’re shoved loosely in your duffle that’s on its last leg.
“Thinkin’ of heading west, maybe hit the strip, try and rack up some cash,” you say, trying to remain casual.
“Sammy’s got another lead,” Dean says, confused like you had forgotten about the suspicious deaths across state.
“And you two are more than capable, I believe in you,” you look over your shoulder and scrunch your nose in a joking manner. He’s not amused.
“You can’t just ditch us,” he stands, crossing his arms over his chest. That caught you off guard.
“Ditch you?” You scoff, turning to face him. “I’m not ditching you, I just have other matters to attend to,” you argue, tilting your head in anger.
“Oh what, betting your $200 and busting? We both know you suck at gambling. You’d be better off taking a handful out a damn wishing well,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
“Oh shut up, I’m entitled to time for myself,” you defend, attitude spitting off of you in waves.
“‘Entitled’- that’s one word I’d use,” he squints, seething in anger. You drop your jaw and spin around, slamming items into your bag with impressive speed.
The air is thick and if your own anger wasn’t buzzing so loud in your chest you’d be able to sense his regret. You zip the bag, avoiding him on your way to the bathroom to retrieve your toiletries bag.
He calls your name as you pass him but your feet don’t react like your stuttering heart does.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, annoyed with his own burst of anger.
“Whatever, Dean,” you deadpan, grabbing your smaller bag and walking around Dean again, his eyes stay on you like a sunflower in the presence of the sun.
“Just- slow down,” he practically begs, “what is up with you?” He asks, face softened and eyes warm as he tries to figure you out.
“Nothing of your concern,” you state simply, hooking the bag on your arm and slinging the other on your back. You turn to head to the door but Dean sidesteps your track and you bump into his chest. He hands land on your biceps, steadying you. His face is mere inches from yours and you can practically taste that half handful of mints Dean chowed on on his way back to the motel- whenever that was.
“Talk to me,” it’s more of a demand, but his voice is so sweet when he says it- he practically lures it out of you.
“I can’t stand it,” your voice betrays you. Fucking betrays you as it spills out your stupid little thoughts. You snap your jaw shut and turn away, trying not to let the pebbling goosebumps from his radiating heat take over your skin. As if you could even stop them if you tried.
His head tilts and his sparkling eyes search yours. They’re like green apple Jolly Ranchers. So crystal and so sweet. You’re in it now.
“Can’t stand what?” His first concern is that he’s made you uncomfortable in some way and it makes his hold on you loosen as his confidence drains in that fear. He’s tried so unbelievably hard to make sure his feelings for you weren’t overwhelmingly obvious. He had never felt for someone like he felt for you. He didn’t want to woo you and make you melt with a simple smirk- he couldn’t, as far as he could tell. Just like he couldn’t use his charm to cover his cavern of self-loathing from your view, and he couldn’t put on the façade that he would for any other interest of his. Maybe it was respect, maybe it was fear, he just hoped it wasn’t love.
“You,” the word takes an entire lungful of breath to get out, deflating you like an exhausted pufferfish, sick of pretending to be some big-bad to deter prying eyes. Especially the emerald ones that make you salivate.
Your single word hurts him. His grip on you vanished like he was stung from the touch and he took a step back. He’s wounded.
“I just need some space,” it’s still a lungful of breath but at least this puff is more efficient than the former. He’s speechless, he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to argue- he can’t. He knows the burden he is on others and for you, of all people, to outwardly admit it really puts him in his place.
Your eyes hold so much obvious raw emotion that if anyone else but Dean could see, they’d knock him upside the head for how dense and self obsessed he’s being.
His eyes hold so much pain at the unnoticed miscommunication on your end that someone should do the same to you. If you could both get your heads out your asses and just accept the heat- this spark between you- all would settle like sand in a calm lake.
Unfortunately, it’s hurricane season and you bypass him without a second glance as you get in your car and drive until your tears cloud your vision.
———
“And then they just left,” Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He sat on a squeaky chair supplied in the kitchenette of the generously rated 2-star motel.
“Did they say why?” Sam asked, arms crossed but one lifted to gesture as he spoke.
“It’s my fault,” Dean can’t keep the pain at bay, not even to hold up the big-brother-that-can’t- be-stung persona. He’s too distraught over your words. Well, word.
“Why? What did you do?” Sam says, his shoulders slumping with a sigh of grievance. Almost like he had expected this to be Dean's fault.
He’s quiet, shuffling through his memories, trying to pinpoint when exactly he had hurt you in such a way to cause the outburst. Was it his own words?
“Just said they couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand me,” Dean leans back, looking up at the ceiling. Sam’s eyes squint, a thoughtful look clouding his eyes. Once he seems to piece it together, his arms fall and he rolls his eyes.
“Dean, you’re so dense,” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.
“No need to hammer it in,” Dean shrugs with both his arms and a scoff.
“No, you-. Dean, think about it,” Sam presses, shifting on his feet. “Remember the officer you were talking up to get info for last week's case? How agitated they got? And what about last night- that waitress you took home. Dean, they care about you,” Sam lays it all out, hoping that Dean will actually take it how it's presented to him.
Dean just stared at Sam, not wanting to believe that all this time he’s been shoving down his feelings for you that have actually been mutual this whole time. That he had a chance and how he may have just ruined it.
Suddenly, he doesn’t seem to give his fear another thought. He needs to see you.
Dean doesn’t spare Sam an answer, jumping to his feet and darting out to the Impala, snatching the keys along with his jacket. He roars Baby to life and whips out his phone to check your location. Something the brothers made close friends agree to in case anything ever happened. Of course, this isn’t what was initially in mind when they implemented the rule.
Surprisingly, you’re only a 20 minute drive by now- some diner in the next town. He wasted no time.
Oh, by the way, one of the great skills in Dean Winchester's self-proclaimed ‘Ego Arsenal’? Cutting drives down by at least 20% in desperate situations, sometimes 30% if traffic is forgiving.
He sees your car on the far end of the lot. You’re rustling through the trunk and you look sporadic. Screeching tires alert you to the fresh presence of the Impala and your stomach flips.
“Dean?” You ask, straightening up from your trunk and hoping to seem calm and collected- as if you didn’t just get done crying your eyes out for a love that will never be in your hands.
“I’m an idiot,” Dean stumbles out of the barely parked car, not bothering with latching the door. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he’s breathing heavily but that doesn’t stop him from coming right up to you.
“What?” You ask, completely lost.
“The waitress- I couldn’t,” he shakes his head, breath hitting your face. Damn, he got close.
“Why would-?”
“I couldn’t- because of you,” his sentences are patchy but it almost seems like it’s because his thoughts are so disorganized and not due to the panting breaths.
You’re silenced. Is he blaming you? Is he upset with you? You did nothing- that you recall- that would’ve gotten in the way of him and her. You open your mouth to argue but he’s quick to eat your words as his lips crash into yours, holding you still with both hands on your face. His palms practically suffocate you with how much ground they cover but you couldn’t think enough to care.
He steps as close as he can, pressing his body into yours. His arms are at a more awkward angle for how he’s still holding you but he doesn’t seem to care. Almost afraid that if he lets go then you’ll melt through his abandoned hold and disappear from his life forever. He can’t risk it.
He kisses you until he’s breathless again, pulling away in time for his vision to not threaten giving out on him.
He plants his forehead against yours, breath dusting your face as he just takes in the way your skin ignites his own.
“Where the hell did that come from?” You finally ask, your legs a little weak and thanking god that he’s got a hold on you.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he scoffs a simple laugh with a smirk, his eyes still closed. “Just couldn’t stand it,” he teases, eyes still closed. Maybe if he doesn’t open them he won’t have to risk this being a dream.
You press your lips into his again, a sweeter kiss of adoration for his simple joke, as if you two already have your own bit.
“I’m sorry. I never even realized that-,” he sighs, finally opening his eyes and pulling away enough to fully appreciate your face. “I never realized what I felt for you was what it is.” He likes being close enough to admire the blemishes of your skin- freckles, hints of wrinkles, a scar along your temple.
“And what’s that?” You ask, face splayed with a teasing smirk but on the inside you feel like a preteen watching the bouncing bubbles that proceed a romantic text you were bold enough to send.
“Infatuation,” you’re almost convinced he invented the word on the spot with how much emotion he fit into a few syllables.
And although the look he’s dawning is pure and adorning, a neon spark behind his mossy glass shows a devious excitement. God, you’re really in it now.
———————
thank you so much for reading!! <3
>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest)
>>check out my other works here
>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere
THANK YOU FOR THE TAG SNOOKUMS @blossomingorchids
ares's dream playlist <3
two - bbno$
BIRTH OF VENUS - Banchee
Dominion/Mother Russia - Sisters of Mercy
Bats - Scary Bitches
Kiss The Go-Goat - Ghost (honestly all of ghost. i love them.)
B.Y.O.B - System of a Down
For Whom The Bells Toll - Metallica
Bloody Mary - Lady Gaga
Before I Forget/Snuff - Slipknot
FOR YOUR LOVE - Maneskin
Paranoid - Black Sabbath
WHAT YOU WANT! - asteria
Boogie Woogie Wu - Insane Clown Posse\
Venom/Hall of Fame - Stray Kids
All of Epic The Musical idc
no pressure tags mwah @curly-fry-3 @rikiscupid
ykw im adding the x men to the writing masterlist cuz young charles xavier and wolverine could get it
me and the bad bitch i pulled by being murderous
im bisexual so i think people forget that means im attracted to literally anybody who can either beat me up or give me puppy dog eyes. or both.
me when @studiogrimm810 @blossomingorchids
but sir that’s my emotional support mutual who’s way cooler than me that i can’t believe actually follows me
im gonna shove the bunsen burner down my chem professors throat i hate her
gonna put this in my wallet and tell people im a military wife who misses her husband
bro i love my mom sm
i saw this cake on tumblr and told her it looked nice
she literally baked one for me today.
(ps i already took a big ass bite off it that’s why it looks destroyed)
It's quite alright. I can still manage with those shows you listed. I'm just glad you know them at least.
Now are you over 18? I was interested in a request with nsfw themes but id only ask if you're an adult. You dont have to say your exact age if youre not comfortable. And are there any mha characters that you dislike? So I can avoid choosing them.
oh no i dont do nsfw either way hun, im not good at writing it neither do i want to anytime soon.
i may write tension and implied nsfw but wont write full blown smut.
i wont write for mineta or endeavor for obvious reasons. id much rather write for 1a but could make an exception or two to write for hawks, shiggy, dabi, or aisawa
if you have any more questions and not an actual request, type it out here in the comments of this post orrrr dm me
what did you say about my broothaaaa
thats not a stray thats my brothhhaaaaaaaaaaa
you stay away from my brotha cuz i say so :((((
Thank you for this. I can definitely work with those rules and limits. I also understand regarding the number and its okay if you decide not to.
So now, are you familiar with any of the following? Yugioh, the Disney movies, the legend of korra, dangan ronpa, akudama drive, my hero academia, hunter x hunter, koe no katachi, samurai jack, dbz, free iwatobi, gurren lagann, mob psycho 100, pokemon, gravity falls, jjk, one piece, chainsaw man, god of war, jackie chan adventures, voltron, urasawa's pluto, dandadan. I'll base the request on one or two of the shows that you know best.
okay that's a nice list!
im familiar with:
most if not all of the disney movies, my hero academia, jjk(roughly), and chainsaw man(also roughly)
i feel uncultured af now cuz i know most of these but never watched them :(
Thank you!
So first, do you have any rules or limits on what you can or won't write about? Also do you only write for the fandoms you listed or can you do other shows as long as you're familiar with them? And how many requests can I ask for?
WAHH sorry this is exciting.
I don't have many rules, just the basics.
I don't write about incest, underaged stuff, non-con, pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, or anything grossly illegal, no self-harm/suicide-focused stories (light hurt/comfort is okay, but no detailed depictions), religious or political themes.
I could write for more fandoms yes but only if i have an understanding of it and have watched it AT LEAST half way through-
the number of requests doesn't matter as long as you keep in mind that i will write at the pace i can. id say the limit is 3 so its fair to me.
if youre unsure where your request fits, just ask in my inbox again!
ill likely add all that im saying over here to my intro so thank you for asking this pooks <3
Hi there. I would like to place a fanfic request please. But first I have some questions I want to ask if that's okay.
ofc babes, ask away!!
GUYYYYYSS plsplspps request oneshots on my inbox bro, i have no zero inspo whatsoever to continue writing (also the fact that im studying like crazy)
yk i think putting media in the ps5 was mankind’s best invention (i found out that exists yesterday and haven’t stopped using it)
WOAHHH ily thank you for tagging me
eheh
color the sentence that's true about you >.>
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face(not by choice) / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
woaoaowha no pressure bbs but im tagging you mwah @studiogrimm810 @curly-fry-3
color the sentence that's true about you >.>
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
no pressure tags >.>
@snowyquokka @sungiesbbg
how do i have so little to do and yet so much?