Based On A Conversation Amongst Friends.

“my daughter is completely fine!”

ma’am your daughter has to read fanfics about fictional characters just to maintain a healthy mental state

So if you look in that mirror really REALLY REALLY EXTREMELY closely you’ll see me crying

i think we as a fanbase moved on way too quickly from the fact that the first ghosts lockwood ever saw were his parents

vehicular manslaughter chappell roan be like you can hit a hundred boys with cars

scatters these in front of you all like birdseed

Quilted Portraits No. 1 of Baby, the Impala

17” x 17” cotton fabric (primarily Cherrywood Fabrics)

Like my first portraits (x) and second portraits (x) of Sam and Dean, these quilts use a technique called paper piecing, where you print the pattern on paper and then sew through both the paper and the fabric. This method allows for very precise piecing and tiny, tiny pieces of fabric.

See the finished tote bag here.

I also submitted this for the @spnreversebang 2022! See the accompanying story I Think I’ll Go for a Drive by iamianweareme here.

Safety

Word Count: 1,398 Pairing: Dean x Reader Summary: After being rescued from a terrifying ordeal, you struggle to come to terms with the trauma of your captivity. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and captivity, Panic attacks, Trauma response

Masterlist

The world felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. You were conscious, but barely. Your mind raced, heart pounded, and all you could hear was the echo of your own ragged breathing. The darkness around you was oppressive, and even though the danger had passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of terror that gripped your entire being.

You didn’t know how long you had been in that place. Hours? Days? It was all a blur. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, cold and unwelcoming. The ropes that had bound your wrists left angry red marks on your skin, now freed but still tingling with the ghost of their restraint. You had been trapped, powerless, at the mercy of someone with no mercy to give. And then, just when it seemed that there was no hope, he came.

Dean Winchester.

He moved like a force of nature, tearing through your captor’s defenses with a precision and ferocity that would have terrified you under different circumstances. But now, you barely registered his presence. The moment the ropes were cut, and you were free, your body crumpled to the ground. You weren’t thinking clearly. Everything was a hazy mix of fear and confusion.

Dean’s hands were on you, gentle yet firm, guiding you to stand. He spoke to you, his voice low and steady, but the words didn’t register. You were too far gone, too lost in the echoes of your terror. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for threats that no longer existed, unable to focus on the one person who had brought you to safety.

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice was sharp, pulling at the edges of your fractured consciousness. You flinched but didn’t respond. You were hyperventilating now, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. The walls of the room seemed to close in on you, and you could feel your pulse throbbing in your ears. The shadow of your captor lingered in your mind, more terrifying now that you were free than when you were under his control.

Dean grabbed your shoulders, his grip grounding you even as you trembled. “Y/N, listen to me,” he said, his voice more urgent now. “You’re safe. You hear me? You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it was as if you couldn’t hear him. Your mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the worst moments over and over again. The fear was paralyzing, consuming every rational thought you tried to muster. Your gaze darted to the shadows in the room, convinced you saw movement, convinced he was still there, watching, waiting.

Dean’s fingers gently gripped your chin, trying to direct your attention to him, but you kept looking away, still searching for a threat that was no longer there. His voice softened as he called your name again, “Y/N, hey, look at me. Don’t look at him, look at me.”

His words broke through the fog, but only slightly. You looked past him, still not really seeing him, eyes wide with terror. Dean’s jaw tightened with concern, his own heart aching as he saw how deeply the experience had shaken you. He didn’t know all the details, but he could see the toll it had taken.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved closer, positioning himself directly in your line of sight, blocking out everything else. “Hey, look at me,” he repeated, his tone both commanding and reassuring. His hands moved from your chin to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.

You flinched slightly at the contact, but Dean didn’t let go. He kept his grip gentle, but firm enough to keep your focus. His green eyes were locked on yours, filled with an intensity that cut through the haze. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

You blinked, the first signs of recognition starting to filter through the panic. His presence was like a lifeline, something tangible and real to cling to in the sea of chaos inside your head. Slowly, your breathing began to slow, the frantic gasps easing into more controlled, albeit shaky, breaths.

“There you go,” Dean said softly, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions against your cheeks. “That’s it, just keep breathing with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow.”

You nodded faintly, your eyes finally locking onto his. The connection steadied you, anchoring you back to reality. Dean’s face was a mixture of concern and relief, his gaze unwavering as he guided you back from the brink.

“There you are,” he murmured, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve got you, Y/N. You’re safe.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight, but you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “He… he was going to…”

Dean’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly pushed the anger aside, focusing on you. “But he didn’t,” he said firmly. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Not ever.”

The conviction in his voice was comforting, and you felt a tiny bit of the weight lift from your chest. You nodded again, more assuredly this time, and Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said softly, his hands still cradling your face for a moment longer before he let them fall to your sides. He stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring as he helped you to your feet. Your legs were shaky, but Dean kept a steady hand on your arm, guiding you out of the dark, oppressive space that had held you captive.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The world seemed brighter, more alive, and with Dean by your side, you felt the fear begin to ebb away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief.

Dean led you to the Impala, his hand never leaving yours. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid into the familiar seat. The leather was warm, the scent of the car instantly calming your frayed nerves. Dean rounded the car quickly, getting in beside you, and for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence.

Finally, you turned to him, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Dean. I… I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t…”

“Don’t think about that,” Dean interrupted gently, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “You’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in return, the warmth of his touch grounding you further. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you whispered.

Dean’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Just take care of yourself, okay? That’s all I need.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the last of the fear start to melt away. Dean was right; you were safe. With him, you always would be. And as the Impala roared to life and the road stretched out before you, you knew that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers

“Cas! What the hell are you doing in here?!” Dean practically yelped. Castiel stood frozen, phone in one hand, the other half-raised and immediately forgotten. His mouth hung open as if every functioning brain cell had spontaneously vacated the premises. His eyes were growing to a worrying size with each passing second, steadfastly fixed at waist level. He unabashedly stared at the frilly pink lace peeking out of Dean’s ripped, borderline-offensive cut-off jean shorts. Both men stopped breathing. An entirely awkward second later with Dean's face color shifting through exciting undiscovered shades of red, Castiel swallowed audibly.  Dean stared daggers. “You know what, Cas? I own it." A wet sponge hitting Castiel square in the face pulled him back into reality. "Now get working and help me clean Baby!"

I HAD SO MUCH FUN DRAWING THIS!! I should draw more ridiculous things in the future :D

Prints available here!

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I smile like an idiot when I see my man, who’s not my man, on my television screen.