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Recent Statuses

11 days ago
Current The election is stressing me the hell out. The cycle exhausted me and now I wanna puke. Hopefully, a big win comes soon.
15 days ago
Marathon training started today, and it's just as painful as I expected. Wahh. But I do feel a bit better than I do on my normal run. Pain - Bad. Runners high from a long run? Great.
1 like
16 days ago
So, it looks like I am training for the Austin Marathon, starting tomorrow. RIP my calves lol
2 likes
17 days ago
Twisters is my new comfort movie. As someone who grew up a weather nerd in Tornado Alley, I am in love.
2 likes
29 days ago
I twisted my ankle on my run because of a damn pecan and now I think pecan trees in parks should be illegal T_T Good news, it's not broken. Bad news, I have to rest it for a day or two.

Bio

Hi!
You can call me Anna!
I'm a veteran of the old Guild, before the shutdown.
I love Supernatural, and currently, all of my RPs are Supernatural related. Feel free to message me with ideas!

Dean Winchester is me. I am Dean Winchester.

A mom. A wife. A very protective best friend. Pathological People Pleaser. Intimidating due to my patience and general ability to be unbothered.

I'm addicted to working out, running, and generally having an endorphin high. I also tend to be very annoying talking about it, but I'm way more annoying when I'm depressed.

I'm a hopeless Swiftie. So, if you hate her, I wouldn't RP with me, if you like OOC banter. 90% of songs I use as fuel are Taylor Swift deep cuts. Not really any exceptions.

If I currently RP with you, you're basically my best friend and I will protect you with my life. <3

And also, also, because I have super severe ADHD, I tend to ghost on accident. Never be shy to send me a reminder message. I don't get offended!

@FuriePhoenix owns my soul.


Current Favorite Song


Literal Loves Of My Life












Love Yourself First

Most Recent Posts

Dean kept his hand over his eyes, still not wanting to hash all of this out, after last night. His mind hadn’t even come to terms with the fact that he left, that they ‘broke up’, and here Bobby was, making them hash this out. His bottom lip quivered as Mika spoke, every bone in his body wanting to go over to her, and to hug her. He wanted to tell her it was all okay. He wanted to take her back, and just ignore everything. But he couldn’t do it. They both needed space…right?

As she spoke about being the one in the wrong in this whole thing, and not wanting him to leave, he let a small sob escape, which he choked back as best he could, catching Bobby’s attention. Bobby sighed, standing from his chair and stepping over to Dean, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Neither of you is shouldering this whole mess…”, Bobby muttered, gripping Dean’s shoulder and pulling his head against his side, “Mika, you reacted the way you reacted, and I don’t see him runnin’ do you? And you, son…I ain’t seen you like this since you were a kid…That’s enough.”

“I don’t know what to do…”, Dean croaked out, pulling his other hand up to join the hand over his face. He didn’t want either of them to see him losing his shit. But everything from the last couple of days, along with Mika blaming herself for all of it, was hitting him all at once, “I can’t…”

Dean stood, and started walking toward the kitchen, causing Bobby to step forward and grab his shoulder once again. Bobby knew exactly where Dean was going. He was going to run straight out the back door, and to God knows where.

“Dean…”, he started, “I don’t know if you noticed, but the only person who is beating you up, here, is you. Sit on the couch. I need to run out and grab some tools out of the van, and you can help me with that old Corvette out there. Alright.”

Reluctantly, Dean stopped when Bobby touched him, and he didn’t nod. His shoulders dropped, knowing Bobby wouldn’t let him just leave, and turned to sit at the far end of the couch from Mika, his face blank but his eyes were puffy from crying.

“I’m not saying make up. It ain’t none of my business if you do, other than where you go while your daddy wants you here…but mingle. I’ll be back.”, Bobby finished, not actually going anywhere but the garage, to leave them alone.

Dean was shaking, nearly vibrating as he sat there, staring at the floor.

“I can barely look at you, after last night…”, he whispered, his voice cracking, “I’ve never felt so horrible about anything in my life. I’ve never felt so disgusting, in my life. I shouldn’t have left you there…”

He broke the sentence, realizing he was going over the same points all over again, but didn’t know how to truly apologize for what he had done, since he only had a slight grasp on why it hurt her so bad. As he thought the whole situation over again, he leaned his elbow on the end of the couch, and covered his face again, his lip quivering.
Dean sighed, taking in Mika’s words as badly as he didn’t want to listen. He rolled his eyes at her first few words, seeing them as just another reasoning for being aggressive over something he could have easily explained to her. However, when she spoke the next words, his face softened a bit, and his eyes hit the floor. He regretted bringing up the time that they had spent apart, or the lies that he had almost killed her over, in the past. It was something he had promised himself he wouldn’t relieve anymore.

At the question as to what they were, Bobby raised his hands, nodding his head as Dean also agreed with his small nod. No one in the room knew what they were, other than together…but not official. It was a confusing dynamic that sometimes complicated things.

“I said that I wouldn’t let you out of my sight, because I didn’t plan to. I didn’t plan for you to trust me so little, regardless of what we were…which is damn confusing, by the way. I didn’t plan for a psycho bitch with a grifter fetish to jump me, in the most aggressive way, and practically rape me in the middle of the bar…”, he explained, before holding his hands out in front of him, exasperated.

“And I didn’t expect you to not understand that I can’t let stuff like that go. She gave me a free room. I was afraid she would call the cops and with the money that place had, we could have been screwed! And instead of letting me explain what had happened, you exploded on me, and her, which I care less about.”, he finished. He looked up as Bobby sat forward to say something.

“Dean’s ability to say ‘no’ to offers of vice are limited. It’s something I’ve worried about, for him, for years…especially since he turned 18. I’m not speaking for the boy, but that’s something that needs to be discussed. You guys have no titles, no boundaries, no limits…but you both seem to want something out of the other…”, Bobby explained, sitting back in his chair and grabbing the scotch from his end table, “And I can tell you from experience, that relationship ain’t gonna work long term. You’ll always be possessive, because you’re scared to lose what little you have.”

He pointed at Mika with the bottle.

“And you’ll always be a whore, because you don’t know any other way to be. When that girl jumped you, you had a decision to make…and you didn’t, because you couldn’t, in your mind. Set…boundaries…”, he pointed to Dean with the bottle, and then took a long drink.

“I left the note because I didn’t plan to see you again…”, Dean muttered, leaning back in the chair and placing his hand over his eyes, “I didn’t ask to be here.”
Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer


Dean nodded to Mika, glad to have the company as he went up the stairs slowly to go fetch blankets. He noticed the front door open, hearing Cason’s voice and feeling a familiar presence he couldn’t quite pin down.

He stepped over to the linen closet Bobby kept downstairs for himself, since he often passed out on the small bed in the window, and his room was nearby. He opened the closet and was relieved at the piles of blankets inside, “Bingo…”

He grabbed an armful and dropped them on the floor behind him, reaching in for another as he waited for Mika to help him cart them downstairs.

Bobby grumbled on his way up the stairs as well, “Damn house full of kids and not a single one understands the basic concept of closing doors. It’s not like we’re waiting for an apocalyptic attack or anything…and you better clean up your damn mess…”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Bobby as the older man went to close the door, before realizing it was open because Esme was outside with Cason. Bobby grumbled again, sitting down at his desk, clearly stressed.

Cason


Cason smiled a bit brighter at Esme’s sudden acceptance of the Hellhounds being near her. He had hoped that she would warm up to them quickly, but hearing her thank them, already was reassuring. He stepped back into the house, the dogs following him slowly. Violet sat patiently outside the door as Sarah followed him inside, just ahead of Esme.

“So, what’s the plan here?”, he asked, as the door shut behind Esme. However, a knock at the door caused him to raise his eyebrows, as he had just walked through. He turned, at the same time that Bobby stood and Sarah began growling. If Sarah was worried, why wasn’t Violet attacking?

Bobby opened the door, looking surprised as Benjamin stood in front of him. He had only briefly met him, before, and couldn’t for the life of him understand how the boy had slept so long in a car, but he stood aside and let him in.

“Shh…”, Cason hissed at Sarah as she continued to growl at Benjamin. She ceased her growling, and stood a bit closer to Esme. He turned to her, “With her in the house, I recommend staying near the center of the house…or maybe there’s a room that you can chill in. I don’t mind you fighting with us, but if you don’t have to, don’t. The game plan will likely involve all of us, at certain points around the house. Center for you…so I can find you, and she doesn’t break anything.”

He smirked and winked to her.

Annabeth


Annabeth sighed, staring at Sam’s lip as she brushed it with her finger. Her sigh was that of relief as he confirmed that he would let her go, if he was forced to. The thought of him making a decision to keep himself safe, if the demons managed to get to her caused her shoulders to drop a bit of their tension.

However, when he confirmed that they had met before, the flashbacks that she had pushed aside as daydreams came flooding her mind.

Them meeting beside the vending machines, and how badly he wanted to get away…
The running and laughing through the woods.
The moments in the cabin that were interrupted by Dean, who now made sense in his familiarity.
Then the moment that she was kidnapped.

“I was kidnapped…”, she whispered, her stomach flipping a bit as their noses touched, pulling forward that familiar calm that Sam’s skin gave her, “I don’t remember anything in between…but I remember you. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. If I go…I’ll do whatever I have to do to get back to you, like I should have done the last time we met.”
She glanced up at his eyes, taking a deep breath of overwhelm as she did so, “You’re the only person in this house that could talk me out of it, and I’m locked up with you…how appropriate.”

She smiled softly, soaking in the feelings from simply touching his nose, and barely able to contain the urge to relive those memories in the cabin while she had him so close. But she knew if she kissed him, she would never leave…and chances were, that wasn’t an option.
Dean had just sat in the desk chair, as far away from Mikas he could get. At Bobby’s words, he rolled his eyes, leaning back with his hands on his lap. He had figured Bobby was planning something like this, when they were in the kitchen.

However, at Mika’s words, his ears perked up and he sat forward in the chair, rubbing his eyebrow roughly. Bobby noticed, and took a deep breath, “Oh boy…”

“Me?!”, Dean nearly erupted, losing his temper a bit. He leaned forward, pointing his finger at her, now sober enough to not only defend himself, but seemingly to attack. Bobby leaned forward as well, ready to moderate the argument, “Who the hell was it that said, no matter what we go through that she would always be there?! Who’s the one who said that she wouldn’t throw everything I’ve ever done in my face, if I agreed to do the same?!”

Bobby closed his eyes, knowing Dean was going to go for the jugular out the gate. It was what he was hoping for. Clear the room, and get it out, but he had to slow him down, “Dean…”

“AND WHO WAS THE ONE WHO MANIPULATED ME, TWISTED ME, AND…”, he took a deep breath as the tears started to form from pure rage and hurt, and dropped his hand, “And made me believe that I was crazy for MONTHS! You got to walk away from all of it. You could have come back to me…and you didn’t…”

Bobby sighed again, his eyes moving to Mika as Dean erupted, “Okay. That’s enough…”

“I’m not used to all this. I made one…ONE mistake, and you have the nerve to say that you wished you were dead?! Do you have any idea what that means, in my head?”, Dean asked, finally settling from his eruption, his eyes finally meeting her as he glared, and Bobby cleared his throat.

“I think what we’re failing to address here, is who you both have become, since the attack.”, Bobby explained, trying not to feed into Dean’s insecurity by commenting on the statement Mika had made that hurt him so bad.
Dean finished emptying his stomach, flushing the toilet as he continued to hug it and heard a voice that caused his eyes to close tightly. Why would they bring him here, with her? She lived here, but it felt like a cruel joke to make him face her, this soon. He stood slowly from the toilet, his head spinning as he grabbed the door facing, and crept around into the living room.

Bobby stood in the kitchen, making Dean a plate of food for when he woke up. He had also fixed him up a bloody mary, to take some of the edge off his hangover. He heard Mika chime in from the living room, before Dean stepped out of the bathroom, “Um. You could say that. Don’t be mad at me…”

Dean walked across the living room, avoiding any contact with Mika as his eyes quickly glanced to her and then away, confirming his anxiety. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a coffee cup. Bobby quickly snatched the mug from his hands, and sat it heavily on the kitchen counter, before handing him the tomato juice cocktail he had prepared. Dean made a face, but Bobby just scowled at him.

“Go ahead and ask…”, Bobby muttered, as he stepped around and pulled Dean’s chair out, pointing to the plate of food he had sat in front of it.

“Okay. What the hell am I doing here? Dad picked me up.”, he groaned, taking a drink of the Bloody Mary with a scrunched face.

“Well. John was working a case when you called. He drove your ass here, dropped you off instead of using you as bait, and told me to keep an eye on you, like the good old days.”, Bobby quipped, an odd smile on his face. He then pulled a chair and sat beside him, “Mika told me everything.”

Dean’s heart sank as Bobby said those words, and he instantly felt sick to his stomach again. He swallowed his drink heavily, raising his eyebrows and closed his eyes, “So you know why I can’t be here, right?”

“I know why you don’t want to be here. That don’t mean you shouldn’t be. I know how you are, boy. I know how much like your daddy you can be, too. Object permanence isn’t your style. You’re Dean Winchester…”, Bobby said his name with emphasis, before standing again, and stepping toward the living room, “But you know what I think about all that? It’s a load of horse shit. You’re better than your daddy. You do something stupid…you fix it. You don’t run from it. Now…no one is leaving this house, until you join us in the living room, and talk to me about this.”

Dean sighed as Bobby left the room, knowing that he would keep his word in not letting him go. He wasn’t angry at Mika. He was devastated. He stood from the chair, grabbing a piece of bacon and shoving it in his mouth as he stepped into the living room behind Bobby, still not making eye contact with Mika.

“Now. We’re going to sit here, until you’re ready to talk.”, Bobby muttered, sitting in his chair near Mika, and giving her a look.
Cason


Cason smiled at Esme’s reaction to touching Sarah’s head. Sarah groaned in appreciation of her new friend, nuzzling her smoky head into Esme’s hand. Violet, almost seeming jealous of the attention her sister was getting and strolled over, herself, offering herself to Esme without a prompt, which caused Cason to smile wider.

“While it will be these two who follow you around, any hellhound on this property knows the rules…”, he explained, patting his best girl on the back as she nuzzled Esme and sat on her rump in front of her.

“If you need private time, tell them. They can understand you, for the most part. They will just sit outside whatever door you’re behind. No salt lines, unless they are inside, or they can’t protect you…”, he explained, “And they can’t come near the vault. So, I would stay away from it, as well. Other than that, they’re yours until you decide to give them up. I think you’ll find it relaxing, once you get used to it.”

He looked out over the foggy junkyard, seeing the other hellhounds around the perimeter, patiently waiting for the worst to come. He could feel it in the wind that the demons were probably not going to play by the rules, but why would they? It wasn’t Alastair’s style. He heard the others entering the living room, as they stood with the door open, Bobby grumbling a bit about him wasting the air conditioning, despite the cool air coming through the door.

“We should probably see what the plan is, yeah?”, he said to her finally, nodding toward the open door.
Dean drank at the bar until John showed up, clapping a hand on his drunk shoulder and pulling him off the barstool. John shouldered his bag, and threw one of Dean’s arms around his shoulders, walking him out of the hotel. He hadn’t seen his son such a mess, since Mika’s attack, which worried him.

Dean was a wreck. His t-shirt was damp, his hair disheveled and there was still a stain of lipstick smeared around his mouth and nose. John sighed as he practically drug his oldest son to the car, dropping him heavily in the passenger seat of his 1967 black Impala. Dean groaned, instantly leaning his head against the seat, and closing his eyes.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened in the last few days, but I’m hoping it’s not what I think.”, John muttered as he sat down in the drivers seat, and slammed the door. Dean groaned at the loud noise, and then let out a loud drunken laugh.

“It’s ex…actly what you think…”, he slurred, as a sad look took over his features and he started to drunk cry, “Dad…am I a bad person? Like…do I deserve the shit I get?”

John didn’t answer, letting the question linger in the air as he listened to Dean’s breathing slow, as a tear fell from his chin and onto the leather seat. After a few seconds, Dean was fast asleep, causing John to sigh again, and start the car.

——

When Dean finally opened his eyes, he smelled the familiar smell of Bobby’s house, jolting from the pillow as if he was electrocuted. He peered around the room, not recognizing this particular part of Bobby’s house, but quickly realized it was Bobby’s bedroom. He narrowed his eyes. Why the hell was he at Bobby’s house?

He stayed on his back, staring at the dusty ceiling as he processed why John would leave him here, after what had happened. Then, he slightly caught a glimpse in his mind of the night before and his stomach cramped violently. He rolled over, falling from the bed with a ‘thud’ and scrambling to run to the bathroom, outside the bathroom door. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, without shutting the door, and emptied his stomach of the contents leftover from the night before.

His nausea wasn’t helped by the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen.
Dean heard her words echoing in his mind, as he sniffled away a couple of tears, trying to bring back his stoic nature enough to go through with grabbing his clothes and things. If he thought the words over long enough, he would run back to her, and the cycle would start all over again. He pressed the elevator button, pressing it harder and faster, wanting to punch it to make the elevator go faster.

As the doors finally opened, her last words played over in his head again, and he pulled out his phone, flipping it open and texting John.

“Trouble in Minnesota. I need you to pick me up at the Castle Rock hotel, outside Minneapolis.
-Dean


He flipped the phone closed, and leaned against the elevator wall, closing his eyes as another round of tears decided to escape onto his t-shirt, making dark blotches. There was no way he wanted to leave, after all this time. But it was obvious that what she wanted, was something he couldn’t realistically give her. No matter how hard he tried to explain it, she had a different view of life, than he grew up with. Nothing is permanent. Not friends. Not women. No matter how much you care about them.

He stepped out of the elevator, dragging his feet as he stepped across the hall and unlocked their door. He looked around the room, with cloudy eyes, quickly spying his bag on the floor. Within a few minutes, he had reluctantly packed all his clothes back into the bag, leaving hers in a neat pile on the couch.

Dean stopped at the bedside table, seeing the pad and pen there. He leaned down, picking up the pen, and wrote a simple note that she would understand.

“Come find me, when you figure out what home is.
It’s not that simple, for me.
-Dean”


Blinking away one last tear, he turned and left the room, not wanting to linger too long. He made his way down to the bar, knowing John would take a while to get to him, or even to answer his text. His best bet was to relax, and grab a drink. As he pulled up a stool, he dropped his bag with a ‘thud’ and held up his fingers, pointing at a top shelf bottle of whiskey.
Madison and Castiel


Madison nodded to Castiel as he mentioned she needed to be somewhere safe. She didn’t understand how she wasn’t an angel. Her powers were angelic and there were angels after her. That made her mind swirl with ideas of being an angel, and romanticized emotions about flying through the heavens and helping people.

“The house I was born in…is it safe?”, she asked him, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to think of a way to tell her ‘no’, and simply shook his head, “Then where?”

“I have been preparing a building, not far from here, since before you were born.”, Castiel explained simply, turning his eyes to check on Dean. He then turned back to her and gave a small smirk, “I had a feeling you would be, how do you say it…a handful. So I warded the place from everything short of God himself, and you’ll be safe there until we figure out our next steps.”

Madison turned excitedly to Esme, “We have a house to go to! And I…”

As she spoke, another angel’s wings could be heard fluttering, as an angel blade pierced her back and the tip shoved through to appear from her stomach. She didn’t react, really. She simply stood, staring down at the blade tip, “Esme?..”

Castiel reacted, stepping forward without hesitation, and stabbing his own angel blade through the angel’s chin, and skull. The angel’s eyes lit up with a long scream, before he collapsed, his wings burned into the sidewalk.

“Madison. Are you?”, he started to ask, watching her not falter, just stand confused.

Dean Winchester


Dean nodded his head to Sam, processing the thoughts he was already having himself, with Sam’s confirmation. He knew that hiding Madison was their only choice, and that there was a good chance that they would fail, and Dean would be forced to kill her. Like Sam, he wondered how that was even possible, considering Angels were damn near impossible to take out on their own, much less their offspring.

And with all of the buzzing going around on Angel radio, about her powers, he had to assume she was godlike, if that’s what the angels believed. Seeing Castiel land, and speak to Madison caused his heart to flutter and a relieved sigh to leave his throat. He had hoped Castiel would come around sooner rather than later, but he was here now, and Madison recognized him, judging by her reaction.

He started walking over to them slowly as they spoke, stopping and furrowing his brow at Madison not being an angel. On one hand, they already knew that she wasn’t just an angel, but a hybrid between an angel and a human, but she seemed more angel than human. He didn’t speak up about the observations, only watched Cas explain their safety plan.

As Madison turned and was instantly impaled, his fatherly instincts took over, causing him to run to her, “Nooo! No. Hey kid…”

He grabbed her, his hand cradling her head in case she collapsed and his other hand coming to hold the blade in her back. As Castiel dispatched the angel behind him, causing his body to nearly fall onto Sam’s legs as he collapsed, Madison swatted Dean’s hand away from her back. She grabbed the handle of the blade herself, slowly pulling it from her back.

Dean looked to Sam, asking him to chime in as he attempted to stop her hand from removing the blade. She finished and dropped the blade with a loud ring onto the sidewalk, the wound not even bleeding.

“That hurt…”, she whispered, her eyes angry and scared again, glowing amber and bright. Castiel stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off, a slight wind surrounding her again. Dean desperately looked to Sam for answers, as Sam had been through this with her before.
Dean sighed as she completely rejected his explanation for what happened. He knew, at that moment, that he was screwed. She hadn’t been around him, enough, during the time that he was mourning, or even just before they met. It was in his nature to let women use and abuse him. Hell, it was in his nature to reciprocate, to the point that he didn’t even know how to tell them ‘no’ anymore.

He pushed her into a small meeting room, wanting to get some of the worst of the conversation overwith, before he tried to ask her for the room key. He had forgotten to grab his own, with his alcohol level being so high. He stopped the wheel chair, engaging the brake and began pacing in front of her as she lit into him about what had happened.

Even now, sobering up, he had trouble with why she was so upset. Yet, part of his brain completely understood the outrage. It’s not like he had never witnessed a girl being upset with him over someone else, before. As she finished speaking, his eyes were clenched shut, his jaw tight and he was panting, and barely realized it.

“I…um…”, he started, not knowing how to address the anger that she was showing, “This had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

He let out a long sigh that he had been holding in, his chest feeling the relief instantly. He then shook his head, still going over her words.

“How could you say that to me?”, he asked, as he processed her saying she should have died, and that she was some sort of burden to him, “How could you even think to say that to me? I never intended for this to happen, regardless of how I am, normally. I wouldn’t betray your trust, willingly. I never thought that coming down and telling a woman to go away, because I’m not alone would cause me to practically be assaulted! I stopped her, which is more than I would usually do! I…”

He was beginning to feel frustrated tears well up in his eyes, and he still avoided her eyes. Dean paced, running a hand down his face slowly, “I’ll um…I’ll call Bobby. I’ll tell him what happened, everything. He can come pick you up in the morning with the tow truck, and I’ll just…I’ll just wait for my dad. It was honestly stupid to think this could work…”
He dropped his hand roughly to his side, with a low growl, and turned toward the door of the ballroom, where the nice concierge guy was standing, his back turned, attempting to give them privacy.

“And for the record, I was never going to sleep with her, even after all that. It’s stupid to try and explain that, now. So…”, he muttered, before stepping through the ballroom door. He was doing what he always did. He was running away from a problem he didn’t have a solution for. The concierge guy simply stood in the doorway, handing Dean a spare room key and waiting for Mika to decide what she wanted to do next, as Dean passed him, a sad and unfortunate look on his face.
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