Jared was a pretty good roommate, Jensen had to admit that. He hung up his bathroom towels and rinsed off his dirty dishes and most importantly, he took Jensen to parties that had liquor - the good kind, not the piss-water beer Jensen’s friends always served.
It was a car backfiring. The woman in the apartment above hers dropping a pan on the floor. The kids down the street setting off fireworks. Anything that sounded like a gun going off. Anything that made his voice slither back inside her head.
It’d been seven months and thirteen days since Jared had seen Jensen last.
The tree-line was too thick and they could barely see their hands in front of their faces for the dense fog around them.
“I hate this,” Castiel says, half into his pillow, head turned to look at Dean.
Chris grimaced at the TV. “Wankers,” he declared.
It was too damn hot. Like, end-of-days kind of hot.
He didn't know how he got here, like this, on the floor of his own tent, sprawled out in every direction like a drunk who's passed out in the doorway of his apartment because that's as far as he could make it.
“And you have your cell phone charger?” Melissa asked, still gripping both of Scott’s shoulders in a pretty impressive hold.
Jared went through the toll-gate five days a week, at 8:15 am, almost to the minute. He had an EZ-Pass, so for the first several months of commuting to the new job, he just swiped and went on his way. Then one day, in late August, he forgot his card and had to wait in line with the other amateur slumps at the tollbooth.
It had been a bad case with an even worse ending. They’d spent three days looking for the girl - snatched from her fourth grade school field trip - and none of them had gotten more than four hours of sleep since the case started.
“Whoa,” Roller Girl said, looking at all the presents under their Christmas tree.
The snow came out of nowhere. They’d crossed the state line into Jersey, following up on a lead that had, in fact, led nowhere and now Martin didn’t think they would make it back into the city.
It was happening again, just like it had years ago, when they were still young and their scars were pink and new.
Jensen slid out of bed and pulled on the closest pair of sweats and the first shirt he came into contact with, thrown across the floor like Jensen couldn’t have cared less where it had landed.
It was the adrenaline from the case, the pushpushpush and then the bottom drops out and all they are left with is a broken family and a woman behind bars.
Giant alien ants had attacked the city once. The Avengers had fought them off by killing the queen ant and making all the other ants run home again.
They had to keep him in restraints. They didn’t have a choice. There was no telling what those skitters had done to Tom while they had him.
They arrived during the third week of June, six days after school let out for the summer. The cabin was situated on a lake in northern Michigan, though as Dean found out, there were a lot of lakes in northern Michigan.
Stiles was seventeen, so he didn’t think anything about it when he had an itch that needed to be scratched. Or an itch that need to be rubbed out. Or, whatever, when he needed to jerk off.
I may have had to re-read some of these as I was doing this meme. Like idk what it says about me, but I really like my own stories a lot. Have a go, if you like!