to the moon

11x11– Into the Mystic

a drink to gather courage

i drew this thinking about an idea for a fanfic (though i haven't been able to fully develop it yet)

i imagined the first kiss would be complicated; a little alcohol makes things easier, but no one is obligated to do anything, they're not even drunk (you don't have to be drunk to kiss). Dean just took a huge swig while sammy waited for his kiss, and everything else flowed

Here are some crazy grasshopper mouse facts for those who are not familiar with the most badass mouse species on the planet

- They are fully carnivorous, and their diet is made up of not only bugs but also snakes, lizards and other mice.

- They hunt like true predators, slowly stalking and creeping up on their prey before ambushing them. They will sometimes let out a screech as they attack.

- Like wolves, they howl to establish territory and have a specially developed throat to produce louder vocalizations. They will stand up on their hind legs and throw their head back to howl- a sound that can be heard from 100 meters away!

- Grasshopper mouse behavior is linked to lunar cycles and they are more active during a full moon.

June is National Men's Health Month so I decided to make this post somewhat health related in that they focus on Sam and Dean's physical health although not with male specific health conditions. The illnesses in these fics are not supernatural in nature but good ol' fashioned, garden-variety coughs, colds and wound infections; this means no Sam-is-sick-from-the-trials fics or spell/curse-induced illness fics or a bite-from-supernatural-creature fics. If you want a bunch of fics focussed one brother looking after another, look no further. Enjoy!

pairing: Sam/Dean rating: E length: 12k tags: Season/Series 07, Post-Episode: s07e17 The Born-Again Identity (Supernatural), First Time, New Relationship, Former Prostitute Dean Winchester

summary: Sam's not crazy anymore. This day may prove otherwise.

Completely unexpectedly, Dean sleeps like a rock. Been long enough since he had a restful six hours that maybe his body's cashing in on a bitter debt. His eyes slit to grey light coming through motel blinds, tangled warm in blankets caught somewhere around his waist. Snow falling, past the blinds. Coffee smell. He licks dry lips and stretches and reaches to scratch his nuts and—he's naked, and his mouth tastes like—and his brain apparently decides to kick out of idling in first and reminds him, coffee smell. Which means—

He lifts on his elbow. Sam's standing with his arms braced behind him on the counter. Wearing a black t-shirt and grey boxer-briefs, which puts him one up on Dean, and his hair kinda screwed up, and stubble heavy on his jaw, and his eyes slanted to the cold morning. Mr. Coffee burbling behind his back. Dean drags his hand over his face, doesn't quite get it past his mouth. His stomach's weaving itself into a bowline and something sour's crawling up his throat and maybe he's going to hurl. They mostly had booze for dinner, last night. Could be an excuse.

"I wasn't drunk," Sam says. "Neither were you."

And sometimes fanfiction is, ‘Watch me do a fucking KICK FLIP off this cool sentence!! Also here's some sex'

just gotta throw my all-time favourite Giles scene into the mix