“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”


Finally getting around to this lol

From this list of dialogue prompts. Feel free to send in more!

What just happened?

That thought swirled on repeat in Stan Baker’s head as he returned to his flat, a place small enough for the 21 year old to afford on his own humble salary. He leaned against the door after it shut, stunned.

“Rough day?”

Deep green eyes widened and darted to the side. Sitting idly on the hooks on the wall meant to hold keys or coats, hooks Stan rarely used for such things, was a tiny woman no taller than a finger.

After a moment of staring, Stan let out a huff of a sigh that ruffled the woman’s short hair. He recognized her. Hard not to,she hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he saw her.

“Don’t people normally outgrow their imaginary friends?” he asked dryly.

She shrugged. “Suppose so. I always did think we had a special something, though.”

He shot her a flat look. “Well, thanks for dropping by, Tinkerbell, but I’ve grown up.”

“Zepheera,” she corrected, pushing herself up to stand balanced on the metal hook, hands on her hops. “Bit childish to resort to name-calling, don’t ya think?”

Again Stan huffed. “I don’t need to listen to this. You’re not even real.”

A moment passed between them.

“Well?” Zepheera prodded.“You’ve got long legs. Go ahead and leave if you don’t want me around.”

Stan’s brow furrowed, but he couldn’t look Zepheera in the eye. When he still didn’t make a move to leave, he sighed.

“Not a rough day,” he admitted, answering her initial question. “Just…kind of a weird one.”

At last he met her much smaller gaze, tiny pinpricks of violet that once had Stan convinced she was a faerie of some kind. With those eyes as kind as ever, Zepheera offered a small smile. “I’m up for tea if you wanna chat about it.”

Stan couldn’t refuse.

As always, Zepheera was a good listener. She sipped her tea evenly (from a cup Stan could swear she materialized out of thin air, unless she simply carried it around all the time in her tiny rucksack) and waited patiently for the end of Stan’s story.

“Sounds like you’ve got a new job lined up,” she commented.

“I haven’t accepted the offer yet,” Stan reminded her.

“And why not?”

Stan ran a hand through his hair.“Because… It’s a big decision. Punching out the occasional creep on the street is one thing, but this… If I make good here, I’ll be dealing with serious criminals. Terrorists, too. I could die.

The words hung heavy in the air for a few breaths, a solemn silence broken after Zepheera finished off the last dregs of her tea and got to her feet.

“Well,” she sighed, making her way slowly closer to Stan as she stowed her cup away, “the Stan Baker I know never could sit back while bullies were running rampant.”

Stan chuckled and found his chin lowering onto his folded arms the closer Zepheera came.

With a smile, she gave a small shrug.“And, not saying you will, but if things do get hairy out there, at least you’ll die doing what you love. Walking into danger.”

Stan blinked at Zepheera’s phrasing, feeling hope creep up on him. Then he heaved a world-weary breath, slumping his shoulders and burying his face in his arms.

A feather-light touch patted against one of his knuckles, and from that same direction Zepheera said, “See ya ‘round, Baker. Do what you think is right.”

The next time Stan looked up, Zepheera had vanished. Just like she always did.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grinned.

Hershey Kisses and Salt Lines Epilogue

(( To avoid confusion, this is a submitted fanfiction, not BT canon. Please enjoy this story written by a fellow reader!))

Hi, I just had to do something about all those feels that you left us with from the ending of Hershey Kisses and Salt Lines, so I channeled them all into this fanfiction about your fanfiction 😛 I hope that you like it and approve

It had been years since they left. Since he’d had company. Or friends. Or safety. Or a full stomach.

Don’t get it wrong, though; Oscar was more than used to wandering through the empty, chilled motel walls, scavenging for food in an effort to ward of the perpetually impending claws of hunger, dealing with the solitude that encompassed his life.

He’d thought about finding a different home for himself more than once, a place not haunted by the memories, both good and bad, of the brothers and his mom. He’d even half-heartedly scouted out other areas of the motel, but he could never bring himself to go through with it. Oscar told himself it was because finding a new home wasn’t a necessity, and he couldn’t waste the time nor energy in making one, but, in all honesty, it was because of that faint whisper that still lingered in the back of his mind. Just in case they come back.

But Oscar knew that they wouldn’t. He’d long ago recognized the fact that the Winchesters had more than likely forgotten all about the small boy they had befriended all that time ago, before he had grown into the strapping borrower he is now. Yet, in spite of his surety, Oscar could never quite crush his lingering hope that one day, one day


Today, the borrower found himself traipsing through the memorized, cobweb riddled passageways of the walls to return to his humble abode after another unfortunately unsuccessful scavenging trip. Oscar dragged a weary and well-calloused hand over his face, a forlorn sigh escaping his lips. It looks like he’ll be going without dinner tonight. Again. Oh well. He’ll just go straight to sleep, even though his hunger will undoubtedly leak into his dreams, resurrecting ancient memories of popcorn and chocolate and fresh food.

Finally, Oscar arrived at the entrance of his home, only to freeze in his tracks. The door wasn’t in place, and he always made sure to secure his house; he couldn’t afford for any animals or insects to find their way inside and take what meager belongings and supplies he possessed. Hand finding the small needle that he kept at his side ever since the squirrel incident, Oscar drew in a deep breath, readying himself for whatever may lie ahead of him.

Stealthily creeping forward, the borrower listened intently for any clue as to what had broken in. When he was just outside the entryway, Oscar was able to make out the scuffling sounds of muffled … footsteps? Peering inside, his eyes widened as they beheld the figure before him. The stranger’s back was turned to Oscar, but he could make out that the intruder was very well built, had shaggy brown hair, and was considerably taller than Oscar.

Biting his lip, Oscar lingered in the shadow of the entrance, unsure about how to deal with the situation at hand. There was no way of knowing what this stranger wanted from him, and while Oscar wasn’t incompetent, there’s no doubt that the intruder before him would have the upper hand if it all came down to a fight.

Then, almost as if he sensed the eyes upon him, the stranger stiffened, only to relax after a beat. Pivoting in place, the stranger turned to face the door, squinting to try and see through the darkness. When his bright hazel eyes found Oscar’s surprised face, a wide, beaming smile with a set of dimples to boot was directed down at him. It was then that Oscar began to make the connections, see through the small changes that time had made to the other’s appearance, even though the borrower could now recognize that this was not just any stranger breaking into his home.

“Hey, Oz,” Sam said.

Oscar’s mouth worked soundlessly, suddenly unable to articulate or make any sense of anything as he was flooded with an overwhelming wave of emotion. Sensing the younger man’s struggle, Sam stepped forward, and enveloped the smaller man in an earnest embrace.

“S-Sam,” his voice cracked under the pressure behind it. His hands held tight to his friend’s shirt, clutching to the Winchester like a drowning man to a lifeboat. “I can’t believe- after all this time, you finally- You came back for me, Sam, you-”

Sam’s arms briefly tightened around the slim form before gently breaking away from the hug while continuing to hold the other’s shoulders at arms-length away. His brows were furrowed, eyes glistening as he intently looked at Oscar, who couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of the same exact puppy dog eyes he remembered from years ago once again appearing before him.

“Oz, I’m so sorry that we had to leave like that, that we left you behind, but we never forgot about you. And, yeah, it’s been a long time- too long -but Dean and I never stopped-”

“Dean?” Oscar questioned, his heart soaring at the thought of seeing the friendly giant once more.

“He’s here, too, Oz.” Came the heartfelt reply. “We’ve both missed you, you know?”

And as Oscar looked up into those big puppy dog eyes, he realized that, yeah, he did know.

“Hey, Sam?”


Oscar’s lips twitched, a mischievous, playful gleam dancing in his eyes for the first time in far too long. “Race ya.”

At those words, Oscar leaped out the door, elation finally triumphing over all the other emotions that had been waring inside of him. A shout of surprise echoed after him, before he heard Sam’s laughter joining his own as they ran through the walls to the very same room that the Winchesters had rented all that time ago to reunite with the big brother. After all of these years of waiting, his friends had finally returned, and Oz couldn’t be happier.

Ant Man

BA Canon: No

Timeline: 2015 (10 years after they reunite for the first time)

(Part 2 of 2)

Dean pulled the Impala up to the movie theater at half past nine. He couldn’t stop himself from sending a fleeting glance down at his pocket, where Sam had agreed to go in order to keep their final destination a surprise.

He got out of the car, eager to get a move on. The ticket for the movie had already bought online, that way Sam wouldn’t overhear Dean ordering it when they got in. It only took him a few minutes at the ticket kiosk to figure out how to print the thing, and he was now getting the hang of the newer technologies like that. Sam took every advantage he could to tease Dean about his stubborn insistence on keeping things simple, but there were certainly perks to the more modern innovations.

With the ticket in one hand, and a massive container of popcorn and a extra large soda in the other hand (along with candy shoved into an unoccupied pocket), Dean headed for the theater. He tried to ignore the look one of the women there gave him, pushing it away as best he could and sending a You better appreciate what I’m giving up look down at his chest pocket.

Once in the theater itself, he took stock of their surroundings. So far, there was just a couple sitting near the front of the rows, involved with each other so much they never even noticed him coming in.

He immediately went to the top row, finding himself a secluded spot in the corner. He covered the nearby seats with his snacks and sat with his boots stretched out as obnoxiously as he could manage on top of the seats in front of him. Rude or not, he wasn’t planning on anyone sitting nearby. That would completely ruin his idea for the night. That was why they were at one of the last showings of the night, after the movie had been out for over a month. More than once, he’d caught Sam watching the movie previews longingly when they came on, and he’d slowly realized that it was one of the only superheros that Sam actually had things in common with.

And so, movie night to see Ant Man.

The next ten minutes waiting for the previews to start was more stressful than he’d expected. Anytime someone strayed near the seats he’d taken over, they were treated his trademark glare. Not many people could stand up to it, especially if they didn’t need to. Sam was one of those rare few who was unaffected, of course, along with most of Dean’s close friends.

The movie previews started and Dean deemed it safe to bring out his brother. Sam’s peaceful relaxation in the pocket was interrupted by three fingers snaking inside to lift him out without warning. He didn’t voice a word of complaint, too distracted by the sights around him. After ten years, he wasn’t bothered by the way Dean could haul him around on a whim. They both had a deep trust of the other that no one had ever managed to break.

Not for lack of trying.

As Dean brought him over to the arm of the chair, Sam finally broke his amazed silence. “Dean, are we actually…”

“What?” Dean cut him off gruffly. “You don’t think I’d forget to bring my little brother to see Ant Man, do you? What kind of brother do you think I am?” He shook his head with a smirk, glad to see the growing smile on Sammy’s face. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. If you feel anyone looking at you, give me a nudge. I’ll take care of everything.”

He settled back into his own seat and left a hand next to Sam. Sam used it as a backrest, stretching out his legs along the armrest he was sitting on.

The movie started up, casting the entire theater into darkness. Sam jolted at first at the volume of the speakers but was too enthralled by the screen the moment it started up. He didn’t even have to ask when he wanted a kernel of popcorn, Dean already prepared to hand it off. The buttery goodness coated both of his hands. Sam wrinkled his nose as he hefted it up and found a napkin shoved in his direction, Dean’s eyes glued to the screen even as he held it out.

By the time they reached Ant Man’s first time shrinking and the sight of giant, stomping feet, Dean’s eyes were wider than Sam’s as he saw what his brother saw everyday in a larger than life screen. Sam barely even flinched at that part, more disturbed by the thought of the swarming ants.

Eventually, the salty popcorn had him digging out his tinfoil cup from his satchel, getting a drop of soda from Dean. It took Dean a few tries to manage it, eventually just using the straw to funnel a drop into the bitty cup.

No one caught sight of Sam the entire time. His shoulders only stiffened up once, the feeling of a distant gaze only lightly touching him before it settled on Dean. A woman was sizing up the older hunter with consideration in her eyes. Dean didn’t acknowledge her, merely cupping his hand so Sam was out of sight until she turned to watch the movie again.

The ending credits came on and the lights turned on. Sam slipped up Dean’s arm, hiding between his neck and the collar with the new brightness around them. Like that, they waited patiently for the ending scene as other moviegoers strolled by and left the theater.

A small voice piped up near Dean’s ear. “Not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Sam told him.

Dean smirked and shrugged his shoulder just enough to make Sam tumble against him. “You can be jealous of my awesome ideas. We’ll have to try this one again sometime. Maybe get a slushy or something.”

( Part 1 )

Ask’s Open! || Prompt’s Open! || Submissions Open!

Ant Man

BA Canon: No

Timeline: 2015 (10 years after they reunite for the first time)

(Part 1 of 2)

Sam ignored the rhythmic thudding that came from outside his small bedroom, trying to concentrate on the smartphone he had propped up along the wall. Dean had been getting ready for whatever he had planned for ages, and must have walked past the entrance nigh on ten times so far.

Sam swiped down on the screen, loading up the book he was reading at the moment. Words covered the page, carefully scaled down so he wasn’t trying to read from words that were the size of his hand or bigger. Technology had made his life easier than ever, even at his size.

“Sam, get a move on, we’re gonna be late!” came a grumble from outside his small nook.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You won’t even tell me where we’re going!” he shot back in reply, but he did stand and grab his well-worn satchel. It had been through hell the last ten years he’d lived with Dean, but it was still in one piece, the loving workmanship from Walt showing through in the durability of the leather and the stitching.

A shadow fell over the entrance as Dean peered in. “What’s the fun in giving away the secret?” he asked with a grin. He put a hand down on the edge of the shelf, already ahead of Sam there. “You’ll just have to wait and see!”

Sam had to hide a smirk at his giant brother’s enthusiasm. Dean almost never got worked up about anything these days, so it was a welcome change. Considering what they’d gone through the last few years, Sam couldn’t say he was surprised that his brother had started to slip a little into the clouded darkness in his mind, but Sam was determined to keep him away from the edge of despair.

Even if it meant going along with Dean’s insane plans. Whatever the hell he was up to.

He came up to the edge of the shelf, stepping onto the back of Dean’s hand and walking over the raised knuckles. A tendon flexed under his boot, and Sam had to shift his weight to avoid getting thrown off balance, something he had practice at after spending ten years with a brother almost twenty times his size. He quickly hauled himself up Dean’s flannel shirt, smirking at the fact that some things, at least, never changed.

Once Sam was settled on his shoulder, Dean swept the keys off the top of the nightstand, heading out into the night.