@twowaywardorphansjournal / twowaywardorphansjournal.tumblr.com
Hopefully I will get some time to do a little writing soon. I opened a word document that I had started last month, but I cannot remember what my inspiration had been so not sure if I will be able to finish it. We will see what happens this week! Thanks for following me! And welcome to all the newcomers in the last few months, I have noticed and appreciate all of you. <3
Have you ever been listening to an album and the lyrics just spoke to you, inspired a work of fanfiction in some sort of way? That’s been happening to me a lot lately, so I thought why not make a challenge out of it.
Thank you to @mamapeterson, @charliebradbury1104, and @sleep-silent-angel for your kind words and reblog! I had pretty much given up on getting any feedback for Never Again, so you all just made my morning! :)
Read Never Again here
Full-Length Stories Rocky Shores - Season 7 AU. Dean x OFC Ways of the Hunter - Season 1 AU
Reader Insert Ficlets/Drabbles Dean Arrivals (request by badwolfstoletheimpala) Break Time (request by mamapeterson) Burning (request by eyes-of-a-disney-princess) Could Be Worse (request by mamapeterson) Crashing Waves Dress Me Up and Throw Me Down Everything (request by havent-the-foggiest) Fair Grounds (request by spnjensenlove02) Fragile (request by mamapeterson) Girl’s Night (request by salvachester) Hotel California I Don’t Care (request by jackiefour) It’s Nothing (request by ancoowner) Journey Knock (request by eatit-twilight) Lord of the Lies (request by jessica-bones-winchester) Lullaby (annon request) Mama’s Plan (request by mamapeterson) Monster (request by mamapeterson) Morning Laundry Muffled (request by salvachester) Night Off (request by sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor) No (request by mamapeterson) Point of Interest (written for mamapeterson) Prom Night (request by mamapeterson) Red Resume (request by sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor) Seriously (request by mamapeterson) Shadows (request by deanwinchstrrr) Spa Day (request by eyes-of-a-disney-princess) Sam Blizzard (request by climbthatmooselikeatree) Candy Store (request by annonymous) Dancing in the Rain (request by climbthatmooselikeatree) Home Alone (request by climbthatmooselikeatree) Lazy Sunday (request by climbthatmooselikeatree) Listen (request by mamapeterson) Present (request by mamapeterson)
One-Shot Fics Hell Says Hello (request by sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor) Never Again Stake Out (request by SuperWhoBad) Tiger Lilly
This is centered around 1x09 “Home”. I was watching it while getting ready this morning and could not get the idea out of my head. There are headcannon aspects that fit in with the SPN storyline. Probably should have gone in a little early to work on paperwork at my internship, but instead rolled out this little ficlet. I’m super proud of it though and it felt really good to start writing again. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
He hadn’t been completely honest with Sam.
It had first started when he was 12.
They all were huddled in a moth-bitten motel room, supposedly sleeping. John had started snoring on the couch, a surefire tell that he had finally passed out, a glass of dark amber teetering on the edge of the table. After a screaming match earlier that day, Dean’s curiosity was at its maximum. He slipped out of the bed whisper soft, Sam’s breath huffing evenly next to him, and searched. Finally, he found it stuffed behind the TV, already layered with dust from the unmanaged room. Pouring over the first few pages, tears crept into Dean’s eyes, beginning to understand the pain his father was constantly tortured with.
He swore that he would never let Sam read that journal.
Sam found it a week later in that same motel room.
Christmas Eve 1991.
After everything was wrapped up, John traveled with the boys to Jefferson City, Missouri. Long car rides always worked up Dean because of all the time he had to sit and think. So by the time they reached the Kansas border, he had already figured out a plan. He whined and moaned as they shot through the empty highway, saying he had to barf. Please, could they just stop. It could all wait just one more night, couldn’t it? Eventually John caved and they tromped through the lobby and up into a room nicer than the one they had just left. The plan was working. Dean knew where to find everything else he needed, he just had to be patient.
The cab driver didn’t seem phased by his age, just told him it was an hour trip and demanded his money. John would have been impressed he still remembered the address. Dean tapped, drummed, and fidgeted his way through the trip, receiving more than one nasty look over the barrier. Just fifteen more minutes, kid, cool it would ya? They crested over the hill as the sky started to brighten.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Dean’s stomach dropped to the floor. He yelled. Stop. Take me back. I don’t want to be here anymore. The cabbie cursed like a sailor. What a waste of my time. Dean tossed him the wad of cash. Silently, they turned back.
When he got back to the motel, Dean actually did barf.
Over the next four years, Dean started to drive. John had never enrolled him in driver’s ed. Learning was always done in between hunts. During a brief stint in Dubuque, Iowa, Dean gave his teacher a heart attack. Driving was part of the curriculum, but performing a donut instead of a three-point turn was not.
As January approached, John asked what Dean wanted for his birthday. It only took a couple times before he thought of an answer. I want to take the car. I want to go on a trip by myself. John wouldn’t hear it. No. You are not going out alone. Is this is about you hunting by yourself? Sam hated listening to these arguments. But after weeks of persuading, Dean wore his Dad down. I promise I will be back by nightfall. I just want to pick the destination.
They were in Colorado Springs the week that he turned 16. He explained that he had to leave early but never sold out his plan. John reluctantly handed over the keys in the midst of his poltergeist research. Sammy pleaded to come along. Dean ruffled his hair. Later.
This time as he rounded the weathered sign, he was prepared. He was older now. He was going to finish what he had started.
Hardly anyone gave him any grief while he maneuvered through the Lawrence Department of Motor Vehicles. Dean had worked the whole thing out. Only one grouchy old lady demanded why there wasn’t an adult present. He’s working a double shift. We can barely afford to make rent. I need to drive so I can start working. There may have been a little mist in her eyes as he turned towards the waiting area.
Dean passed with flying colors. His proctor jotted down a couple notes on his clipboard. Haven’t seen car control like that in a while. Let’s go get your picture done. Dean couldn’t help but smile. Once the small piece of plastic was in his hands, Dean finally relaxed. Even three missed calls couldn’t sour his mood. He had finally done it. An official address in a city he hated to love.
When Dean got back that night, there was a blueberry pie and two presents waiting. John was already asleep. Sammy blearily wished him a happy birthday before zoning back out. Wrapped in the first box was a car air freshener that reeked of citrus. Lemon Perfection. In the second was another plastic card. Different picture, different address. Dean slid it under the clear portion of his wallet. Tucked into the smallest slot in the back was the one he had gotten on his own.
John never knew about Dean’s first driver’s license.
He had thought he was done. There wasn’t another reason to go back. Then Sam had started talking about college. Fighting with Dad. Wanting out of the life. Mostly Dean stood back while the two men argued. One night he tried to reason with Sammy. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Instead of acceptance and understanding, he was met with resistance. Don’t call me that. My name is Sam. I got a full ride. I’m not looking over my shoulder this time.
Dean was gone before the sun was up. He drove through the mid-day heat. Shadows followed his car until dusk settled. Driving helped. He had to focus on the road instead of everything running in his head. But he still couldn’t forget Sam’s shoulders as they turned away from him. How could he protect what didn’t want to be around?
It was nearly midnight when Dean finally saw the sign. He parked at the top of the hill, looking down at the dark landscape below. This small sleeping town didn’t know he was there. Or even who he was. He wasn’t considered a resident. Had never been to a school or library or restaurant here. Dean’s chest burned with ache. Slowly he pulled out his wallet. There had been a couple license changes since he had turned 16. But he still had his first tucked away. Nothing in his life held the truth more than this plastic card.
Dean Winchester.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Suddenly there was light at the bottom of the hill. Red and blue sirens. Pushing down the knee-jerk reaction, Dean watched with curiosity. The lights crossed in front of him. Lawrence Ambulance Service. He smirked. Just another night, trying to rescue some pour soul.
What if it was Sam? Or Dad? It wouldn’t be funny then. Was this what it felt when their house was attacked? When their lives were completely turned around? Dean felt his heart seize up. Nothing mattered more. Why hadn’t he said that? Sam had to know. Sam always knew what he felt without having to say it. Maybe that would make Sam change his mind. Dean spun the car around. Mrs. Winter in Dubuque would have screamed. He raced faster than he ever had back through the night. He had to keep trying.
But Sam hadn’t come back.
Sam had given up.
John roared and hollered, still stung by his youngest son’s betrayal. Why did you take the car? Why did you leave? Never do that again! Dean hung his head. That night he flipped through the calls he had ignored. All from John. He hovered over the constant contact in his phone. Pressed green. Ring. Ring. Ring. Hey, this is Sam…
So when Dean said that he would never go back there, he had meant never again.
This is centered around 1x09 “Home”. I was watching it while getting ready this morning and could not get the idea out of my head. There are headcannon aspects that fit in with the SPN storyline. Probably should have gone in a little early to work on paperwork at my internship, but instead rolled out this little ficlet. I’m super proud of it though and it felt really good to start writing again. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
He hadn’t been completely honest with Sam.
It had first started when he was 12.
They all were huddled in a moth-bitten motel room, supposedly sleeping. John had started snoring on the couch, a surefire tell that he had finally passed out, a glass of dark amber teetering on the edge of the table. After a screaming match earlier that day, Dean’s curiosity was at its maximum. He slipped out of the bed whisper soft, Sam’s breath huffing evenly next to him, and searched. Finally, he found it stuffed behind the TV, already layered with dust from the unmanaged room. Pouring over the first few pages, tears crept into Dean’s eyes, beginning to understand the pain his father was constantly tortured with.
He swore that he would never let Sam read that journal.
Sam found it a week later in that same motel room.
Christmas Eve 1991.
After everything was wrapped up, John traveled with the boys to Jefferson City, Missouri. Long car rides always worked up Dean because of all the time he had to sit and think. So by the time they reached the Kansas border, he had already figured out a plan. He whined and moaned as they shot through the empty highway, saying he had to barf. Please, could they just stop. It could all wait just one more night, couldn’t it? Eventually John caved and they tromped through the lobby and up into a room nicer than the one they had just left. The plan was working. Dean knew where to find everything else he needed, he just had to be patient.
The cab driver didn’t seem phased by his age, just told him it was an hour trip and demanded his money. John would have been impressed he still remembered the address. Dean tapped, drummed, and fidgeted his way through the trip, receiving more than one nasty look over the barrier. Just fifteen more minutes, kid, cool it would ya? They crested over the hill as the sky started to brighten.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Dean’s stomach dropped to the floor. He yelled. Stop. Take me back. I don’t want to be here anymore. The cabbie cursed like a sailor. What a waste of my time. Dean tossed him the wad of cash. Silently, they turned back.
When he got back to the motel, Dean actually did barf.
Over the next four years, Dean started to drive. John had never enrolled him in driver’s ed. Learning was always done in between hunts. During a brief stint in Dubuque, Iowa, Dean gave his teacher a heart attack. Driving was part of the curriculum, but performing a donut instead of a three-point turn was not.
As January approached, John asked what Dean wanted for his birthday. It only took a couple times before he thought of an answer. I want to take the car. I want to go on a trip by myself. John wouldn’t hear it. No. You are not going out alone. Is this is about you hunting by yourself? Sam hated listening to these arguments. But after weeks of persuading, Dean wore his Dad down. I promise I will be back by nightfall. I just want to pick the destination.
They were in Colorado Springs the week that he turned 16. He explained that he had to leave early but never sold out his plan. John reluctantly handed over the keys in the midst of his poltergeist research. Sammy pleaded to come along. Dean ruffled his hair. Later.
This time as he rounded the weathered sign, he was prepared. He was older now. He was going to finish what he had started.
Hardly anyone gave him any grief while he maneuvered through the Lawrence Department of Motor Vehicles. Dean had worked the whole thing out. Only one grouchy old lady demanded why there wasn’t an adult present. He’s working a double shift. We can barely afford to make rent. I need to drive so I can start working. There may have been a little mist in her eyes as he turned towards the waiting area.
Dean passed with flying colors. His proctor jotted down a couple notes on his clipboard. Haven’t seen car control like that in a while. Let’s go get your picture done. Dean couldn’t help but smile. Once the small piece of plastic was in his hands, Dean finally relaxed. Even three missed calls couldn’t sour his mood. He had finally done it. An official address in a city he hated to love.
When Dean got back that night, there was a blueberry pie and two presents waiting. John was already asleep. Sammy blearily wished him a happy birthday before zoning back out. Wrapped in the first box was a car air freshener that reeked of citrus. Lemon Perfection. In the second was another plastic card. Different picture, different address. Dean slid it under the clear portion of his wallet. Tucked into the smallest slot in the back was the one he had gotten on his own.
John never knew about Dean’s first driver’s license.
He had thought he was done. There wasn’t another reason to go back. Then Sam had started talking about college. Fighting with Dad. Wanting out of the life. Mostly Dean stood back while the two men argued. One night he tried to reason with Sammy. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Instead of acceptance and understanding, he was met with resistance. Don’t call me that. My name is Sam. I got a full ride. I’m not looking over my shoulder this time.
Dean was gone before the sun was up. He drove through the mid-day heat. Shadows followed his car until dusk settled. Driving helped. He had to focus on the road instead of everything running in his head. But he still couldn’t forget Sam’s shoulders as they turned away from him. How could he protect what didn’t want to be around?
It was nearly midnight when Dean finally saw the sign. He parked at the top of the hill, looking down at the dark landscape below. This small sleeping town didn’t know he was there. Or even who he was. He wasn’t considered a resident. Had never been to a school or library or restaurant here. Dean’s chest burned with ache. Slowly he pulled out his wallet. There had been a couple license changes since he had turned 16. But he still had his first tucked away. Nothing in his life held the truth more than this plastic card.
Dean Winchester.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Suddenly there was light at the bottom of the hill. Red and blue sirens. Pushing down the knee-jerk reaction, Dean watched with curiosity. The lights crossed in front of him. Lawrence Ambulance Service. He smirked. Just another night, trying to rescue some pour soul.
What if it was Sam? Or Dad? It wouldn’t be funny then. Was this what it felt when their house was attacked? When their lives were completely turned around? Dean felt his heart seize up. Nothing mattered more. Why hadn’t he said that? Sam had to know. Sam always knew what he felt without having to say it. Maybe that would make Sam change his mind. Dean spun the car around. Mrs. Winter in Dubuque would have screamed. He raced faster than he ever had back through the night. He had to keep trying.
But Sam hadn’t come back.
Sam had given up.
John roared and hollered, still stung by his youngest son’s betrayal. Why did you take the car? Why did you leave? Never do that again! Dean hung his head. That night he flipped through the calls he had ignored. All from John. He hovered over the constant contact in his phone. Pressed green. Ring. Ring. Ring. Hey, this is Sam…
So when Dean said that he would never go back there, he had meant never again.
Fluffy little piece that I had started to write a couple months ago, and finished in dedication of my friend KK who underwent surgery. Hopefully, thanks to @femmedplume and @coltsandquills this will help her heal and cheer her up!
“No.”
You lurched out of your sleep, feeling your stomach drop like it was on a roller coaster.
“Stop.”
Clenching your fist, you debated if you should turn over. It was rare for you to share a bed with Dean, but you were familiar with his nightmares. He had sat up and roared in agony the first night, nearly sending you careening off the bed. Of course, he had played it off as a leg cramp, kissing your shoulder softly before curling back under the comforter. You hadn’t brought it up again.
“I mean it. Stop!”
Now you were intrigued. He had never pleaded with his dreams before. You rolled over and immediately started laughing.
“Journey!” You chuckled.
Dean tilted his head back even further on the pillow, trying to get out of reach of your beagle who was assaulting his face.
“Just push her off,” You told him. “She tends to have boundary issues.”
“I tried,” Dean replied, his lips tight to avoid accidental tongue action.
You laughed, sitting up to grab your dog, who immediately froze with her tongue hanging out. She tried to give you a guilty look, but you gracefully dumped her onto the floor.
“So vampires and werewolves you can deal with, but not dogs?” You poked at Dean’s chest while he tried wiping dog hair off his face.
Dean scowled in return to your grin and pounced, his fingers wildly sliding up your stomach. You shrieked, pulling your knees up to try and get away from him. It only took a minute for Dean to desist his assault and instead just hold you tightly against his chest. He kissed your neck and cheek before you turned to meet his lips. As you shifted towards him, you were joined by Journey standing in the small space between you.
“Damn dog,” Dean grumbled as Journey licked his hand. You didn’t miss the smirk and scratch behind her ear.
“She’s just happy you’re here. And so am I.”
I loved the story tiger Lilly. It is sweet and well written. You should be proud of yourself. You did a great job here. Damn the haters. You are good at writing. Do more,ok. We're excited to see what you do next.
Thank you so much! I’m not sure how I never got notified about this....although it could have been the day I couldn’t get anything to load......but ANYWAY this is so incredibly kind! What a great boost of confidence! I hope I can get some writing done soon, I was having laptop issues so I couldn’t get to the drafts I had saved.
Ready your pens and word processors, because here we go!
Song: Click here Keys:
Challenge: A minimum of 3 characters. The third person can be mentioned or thought of; they don’t have to be present.
Word Count: OPEN! You’ve got nearly a full month for this one, so make it as long or short as you like. DUE: FRIDAY, MAY 27
TUMBLR TAGS: #CQCHALLENGE #CQCHALLENGE2
AO3 COLLECTION: CQCHALLENGE2 You must tag your fics if you want me to find and share them later! Also, I HIGHLY encourage everyone to track this tag so they can see submissions from everyone who’s taking part.
And remember! All fandoms, genres, and ratings are welcome, as well as non-fanfic. You do not have to sign up to join – just jump in!
Writing thing. W and L
L: What advice would you give to other writers?
Reread any and all work you have done. I’ve been writing fanfiction and original stories for almost 13 years now, and this has probably been my biggest ally. Why? Learning from yourself. My best friend and I wrote a Charmed story which she ended up turning into a smut fest. I still have our old notebooks, and I look through them and CRINGE at the writing. Sure, at the time we were young teenagers in the early 2000s just starting to write, but that’s how you grow as a writer. There are books that have stood the test of time you read over and over again. The same should go for your own writing. It helps you find what worked as a plot, a character, an idea, or even just the style. It also really helps for chapter fics so you can find inspiration again.
W: What’s your biggest pet peeve in writing?
Continuity errors. Most of the time I am a very observant person, so if there are confusing directional cues or I’m suddenly not sure how the character got from point A to point B, I’m gonna lose interest quickly. I know I’ve read at least one published novel where they switched names in the same scene, and it took me out of the moment. That’s honestly why it annoys me so much. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve been so excited to post something that I’ve done this myself, but I always try to address or change it.
M: How do you feel when somebody gives harsh yet constructive criticism? Thanks! BTDubs, I miss seeing your writing!
At first, I usually take offense to it. If it’s something that is just a disagreement, then I try to not let it bother me and stick to why I wrote it. If its something that I really should work on, I usually end of remembering to do it for a while
The one time I got seriously harassed was on my FictionPress account. I had written a story back in late middle school/early high school that can only be defined as a seriously dramatic soap opera. Maybe 2 or 3 years later, someone went through and commented on every single chapter and ripped it apart. I was furious. Looking back at it now, I do agree with what they said, but they also could have seen that it was an old story and not been so adamant to be right.
So, to shorten this growing story, first be nice in how you criticize. If it’s something that you personally don’t like, don’t try to be the hero and fix what isn’t yours. Come from a place of kindness in wanting to help them after asking if they want it. Secondly, try to turn it into a lesson and not a fight.
And thank you so much! I know I was so incredibly absent, between work schedules and family health issues, I had no time or even inspiration. I know I always say this, but I’m really going to try to get back into it. I did just post Hotel California yesterday for the CQ challenge.
Writing thing: F & G
F: Favorite book? Favorite Author?
I honestly don’t know if I have a favorite book. I have so many that I enjoy reading over and over again. The last book I truly enjoyed for the first time was Silver Linings Playbook. The book was amazing, but I have yet to finish the movie for reasons that people who read the book first will understand.
Favorite Author is Sarah Dessen. She writes mostly for teens, but I devour every single one of her books.
G: Least favorite book? Least favorite author?
Hmmmm. I’m not really sure if either of these exist. I’ve had books that I’ve stopped reading for various reasons, but I don’t think I’ve ever said “I hate this book” or anything like that. Same with authors.
A: What do you write? Fanfiction, original fiction, nonfiction, articles, songs, poems, essays, plays, what?
B: How often do you write?
C: Who is your favorite character of your own? Who is your favorite character created by somebody else? Why?
D: If you had the choice of going without writing forever or going without dinner forever, which one would you choose?
E: Have you ever participated in National Novel Writing Month or any of its variations?
F: What’s your favorite book? Favorite author?
G: What’s your least favorite book? Least favorite author?
H: How long have you been writing?
I: What grades do you/did you get in English class?
J: What does writing mean to you?
K: Share an old, embarrassing work?
L: What advice would you give to other writers?
M: How do you feel when somebody gives harsh yet constructive criticism?
N: Which writing blogs and writing help blogs do you follow?
O: What motivates you to write?
P: What are your goals for things to happen to your writing? (Getting published, getting a good review, having a fandom, etc)
Q: How do you get through writer’s block?
R: What genre do you write in?
S: Would you let a stranger off the streets read your first drafts?
T: What’s your favorite part of the writing process? Why?
U: What’s your least favorite part of the writing process? Why?
V: What do you listen to when you write?
W: What’s your biggest pet peeve in writing?
X: (Leave a prompt in the person’s ask box)
Y: How would you describe the perfect prose? How would you describe your own prose?
Z: How often do you read?
Ooooo, this looks interesting.
My first submission for the Colts and Quills Challenge, and one of the first pieces I’ve finished in at least 3 months. I had fun writing this!
Challenge #1 Song: “Hotel California” by The Eagles Key Ideas: Something misplaced, a secret, and time is running out Challenge: Takes place outside
Tags: @coltsandquills
“Hey, Y/N, uhh… come help me pull some weeds!”
Dean’s hand, which had been pulsing slowly along your tensed neck, paused as he looked at you. You prayed your face wasn’t flushed as you caught his gaze.
“Sam really wanted to make the front of the bunker look nice.” You blubbered.
“It’s a private entrance,” Dean replied slowly, his eyebrow coming up in confusion.
“I know, it’s just, what he wants.” You pushed away from the main table, your book falling shut without the weight of your hand. “And I promised I would help him, or else he would…no, for that time that he…” `
“Whoa, slow down, don’t hurt yourself.” Dean chuckled as he turned back to his own research. “Just promise me this is a really good birthday present.”
Now you were sure your face was bright red. Having no good response, you spun and ran up the spiral staircase.
“We are horrible liars,” you announced as you stepped into the sunshine.
“Maybe you are,” Sam answered. He was sitting in an old wicker folding chair, his laptop perched on his knees.
“Come pull weeds with me?” You mocked. “That was the only thing you could think of to get me out here?”
“Whatever. You need to give me your credit card, I got everything finalized.”
He tilted back the screen, showing you the reservation page for the Hotel California in Mexico. At first, you had been joking when you suggested the trip for Dean’s birthday. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized how perfect it was.
“Dean is going to love seeing you in a bikini.” Sam joked. You slapped his shoulder. “Card? This is going to time out in like fifteen minutes. ”
“Right, its inside.”
“Done already?” Dean asked as you started back downstairs. You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his mouth.
“Need gloves,” You retorted as you turned into the main hallway.
You dug around in your purse for a wallet, which you opened to find just one card missing. Running over everything the last couple days, you blanched as you realized where it was; in Dean’s wallet.
“Sweet-ums,” You called out as you took the steps back into the entrance hall. “I need my card back.”
Dean shifted back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“What for?”
“Your present,” You sighed, knowing admitting it wouldn’t be enough.
“Oh, so it’s not for pulling weeds?”
“Shut up, do you want it or not?”
“I think I need more information first.”
Desperate to not lose your reservation, you eyed him hungrily as you waltzed over behind him. Tilting his head back, you kissed his forehead and the bridge of his nose before pulling his lip into your mouth.
“I promise this will happen every night the week of you birthday.” You whispered in his ear. “Just give me my credit card.”
Ready your pens and word processors, because here we go!
Song: Click here Keys:
Challenge: Setting is outdoors.
REMEMBER: MAX WORD COUNT IS 500. (You can always continue it on your own outside of the challenge)
DUE: SATURDAY, APRIL 16
TUMBLR TAGS: #CQCHALLENGE #CQCHALLENGE1
AO3 COLLECTION: CQCHALLENGE1 You must tag your fics if you want me to find and share them later! Also, I HIGHLY encourage everyone to track this tag so they can see submissions from everyone who’s taking part!
@prettymessedupsituation , @sweetasscas , @200dollargod , @ladysaraharper , @nineismydoctor , @fighterflightwrites , @queen-icicle-fandom , @ooohesslimandalittlebitfoxy, @supernaturalpirate , @deanwinchsterr , @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog , @twowaywardorphansjournal , @femmedplume , @justmeandmyinnermostthoughts , @jessica-bones-winchester , @rizlowwritessortof , @aquaeryn , @thetruescarlettohara , @sammit-janet , @ancoowner , @snarky-fangirl , @mamapeterson , @anythingandeverything12 , @jessica-bones-winchester , @geek-librarian , @nova0418 , @anotherwinchesterfangirl , @obsessiontisanoblething , @diamond-thighs (just in case you’d like in!) , @wetsammywinchester
(Think I got everyone who requested to be in! There’s no deadline for joining. If you see this and would like to try the challenge, just jump in and tag your fic when it’s finished.)
Sorry to all of my followers for my lack of activity. I’ve had some family stuff going on along with trying to work two jobs and go to school part-time. I am also going to be in Nashville this weekend for the convention, so now I’m trying to get ready for that. I hope I can write some sort of drabble or update one of my fics while I am away on my vacation, but we will see.
Thanks everyone!
