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What good would that be? Who here could need proof that he ever existed? Who needs his boots traipsing around and leaving marks that mean… nothing, really.
Because Dean stands, ghost on the shore of this grief, and the silt is undisturbed on his tongue. Dust of the ages speaking for itself the length of his silence.
But Dean is alive, and Cas is not, and it’s November.or... dean grieves, four years later.
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these sentimental teardrops (need to fall from time to time) by SewingNatural
Fandoms: Out of Place (Podcast)
01 Oct 2023
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"I talked with Lola about her mum for the first time last night. She said she misses her, but that she wishes she could cry properly. And I told her not to worry, that she would cry eventually and it would help her feel much better. That it would be diffucult, but there were people who loved her, who would always listen if she wanted to talk or would let her cry if she had to.
"I didn't say I was one of theose people— I-I'm not quite there yet. But I hope she realises... I am." -
Takes a Whole Lotta Medicine to Feel Like a Little Kid by SewingNatural
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
02 Aug 2023
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Eddie considers his anger. How the shake in his hands felt better when it was from pain and exertion instead of his hyper-vigilance. How joining a fighting ring felt nice not just because it was a way of purging himself of this sharp-tooth jawed feeling in his chest, but because it made the thing he was wrestling with into something real. Something that could be beaten bloody with his own two goddamn fists.
The hospital tiles stare into him and Eddie cracks his knuckles again and again, until they’re sore under his insistence, refusing to give in anymore. Eddie thinks of swallowing himself down. Thinks of the military efficiency of packing up a box so tight that nothing shifts inside. Thinks of holding back this, this howling inside of him so hard that it held everything back with it.
What have you got, if you do everything and never experience it at all?
Or:
Eddie takes Buck home, afterwards.
Series
- Part 2 of When The World Turns To Monochrome
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I'm a Resonant Body (With Knuckles and Lungs) by SewingNatural
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005)
31 Jul 2023
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But oh, Dean surprises Cas then, surprises himself maybe by the way his eyes go wide. Almost like he's pleading. Like he's asking Cas to accept not because Dean is kind, but because he is selfish.
"I could do it," he says, fast, stumbling over the words like they climbed out of him without him meaning them too. "I'm handy with a pair of clippers, and it don't need to look too fancy just to keep it outta your face. If you— if you don't want it to be a stranger," Dean pauses, voice soft as the hide of a rabbit, whispering like the Sun can't hear this thing he is admitting to Cas. "If you don't want it to be a stranger, I could do it."
How much is Cas supposed to accept? How much is he allowed to take?
Or...
Cas is still learning how to be hungry. It is not always kind to him. Dean is learning how to be gentle. The second part to the haircut fic.
Series
- Part 3 of Starvingdognatural Oneshots
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So he doesn't mention it, until one day when the sun hangs heavy like a sailing vessel in the sky. Sunk in the waves. He doesn't mention it, until he does, because it feels like they've finally hit the culmination of it all. The make-it-or-break-it moment, where they're too tired to side-step it, and, like a broken leg mostly healed, they've become strong enough to put weight on it. Probably. Most likely, at least.
OR
Dean cuts Cas' hair, and they ache.
Series
- Part 2 of Starvingdognatural Oneshots
Recent series
Recent bookmarks
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you'll always have this (a soft place to fall) by Purple_Starflower
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005)
11 Apr 2025
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He has little to do this morning — he has little to do most mornings, these days — and so the indulgences. The eggs, and the peaches, and the newspapers he doesn't read. He presses his palm flat against his stomach. Too many indulgences, if he is to be honest. Still, he does not quite have the mind to stop. The world has taken its fair share from him, and then some. He does not have the strength to fight the want in him anymore, what little of it there is left.
From somewhere beyond the kitchen, a song. It is soft, and jazzy, and unlike the music that Dean used to think of as his. He thinks of this music as his, now. Things are different from how they used to be. It is all so very sad. Or so very good, depending.
Or;
Dean has a home. Dean has been waiting. And grief comes knocking.
Bookmarked by SewingNatural
28 Apr 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
the glory of grief and the soft wound of hope
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“Is it possible,” Chimney says, breaking the silence. Buck looks up from his phone and sees him sip from a mug, eyes glinting. “For two people to get even closer after one of them moves away?”
Buck flushes. He locks his screen, the text thread between him and Eddie fading, but it just lights up again with a notification.
...or, Eddie moves, Buck pines, and they are both very normal about it.
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“You’re kidding,” Ravi mutters in the waiting room as Bobby discusses things with the vet tech and Buck holds this incredibly large mutt in his arms like a baby and Eddie looks at Buck like his world is imploding inwards. “Great. What do we do with Cancer Dog?”
“Ravi,” Hen hisses. “We are in public.”
ravi begins, or something
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"Your room's on the right – Or, uh, of course, take your pick! I just, uh, I'm in the left and I, I guess I sorta thought you'd be in the next room over, but of course you don't have to take it, there's a spare room downstairs too if that seems more to your – "
The left door whines and groans as Warren pushes it open.
Warren takes a nap in the farmhouse.
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Summary
Dean gives in on a Wednesday night.
Series
- Part 2 of kinktober 2023
- Language:
- English
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- 3,143
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- Collections:
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Bookmarked by SewingNatural
15 Feb 2025