#bbofspn

“Whoa, hey there, sorry about that,” he speaks, the words jumbled together as he firmly sets you on your feet. He bends down to pick up your clothes. He’s dangerously close to your bare legs, still dripping with water. You lay your hand on your stomach to keep the towel pulled tight and closed.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you out in the living room with everyone else?” you question him, eyeing him suspiciously. “Were you going through my underwear drawer?” Dean chuckles as he hands over your clothes.

“Well I can’t exactly say that had I’d found your room, I wouldn’t have been tempted.” You scowl at him and that just makes the grin on Dean’s face grow wider. He likes pushing your buttons. “I was just wandering around. Wasn’t snooping, I promise. You just disappeared when we came in, so I was...looking for you.”

“Well you found me,” you say, starting to walk to your room five feet away. Dean follows.

“Yes I did. And in a towel no less.” You sigh and try to ignore the seductive tone of Dean’s voice behind you. The deep rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You lean against your door, one hand on the doorknob.

“Mhmm, and I’d love some privacy to get dressed,” you suggest. Dean looks you up and down. He dares to reach out to touch the hickey on your neck which hasn’t faded in an hour’s time. He’s apparently very good at them; you’re still baffled by the fact that he was able to give it to you so quickly on stage.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he purrs.

“And something you may never see again,” you retort and playfully scowl at him. Dean throws his head back to laugh and that’s when you slip into your room, closing the door in his face.

You come out maybe ten minutes later in a pair of sweats and a tight green top that stops maybe an inch above your waistband. Your hair is tossed up in a bun on top of your head. Dean is actually leaning on the wall by your door when you exit.

“Hey Tink,” he greets you. You whirl around, surprised.

“What did you call me?” Dean shakes his head as he pushes off of the wall. He squeezes the top of your bun when you’re not looking. “Hey!” you protest.

“Why are you walking funny?” he asks, following you into the living room where everyone else had congregated on the large couch in front of the TV. It looks like they’re starting a movie.

“My feet hurt from the concert,” you answer him. If Dean was going to say anything after that, he doesn’t get a chance.

“Y/N!” Gabe shouts, jabbing a fork at the plate in his other hand. “Pie!”

“I’m good,” you decline. Sam’s long arm extends over the back of the couch to hand a plate of the pecan pie to Dean, who accepts with stars in his eyes.

“What are we watching?” you ask. Balthazar finally answers you, saying it’s Moulin Rouge. You roll your eyes because Gabe knows the two of you can’t resist singing along. He did this on purpose.

You walk over to the kitchen, glancing at the screen; the open floor plan makes it easy to watch from there as you prepare to make popcorn and grab everyone drinks. Dean’s still following you around like a puppy. You kinda like it, though you notice he’s staring at your ass.

“Are those my sweatpants?” he asks you, amused. You wiggle your ass as you reach for the popcorn in the microwave.

“Maybe,” you chuckle. “They’re pretty comfy.” You feel Dean’s hand touch the exposed skin at the small of your back.

“Will I ever get them back?” He’s behind you now, pressing his body to yours and whispering in your ear. You press your ass into him, making him step back and allowing for space for you to escape.

“I don’t know. We’ll see.” You take everything over to the couch, distributing beers, water and soda, and some popcorn. Dean follows you and plops down on the couch beside you. You pull your feet up on to the couch to curl up and lean against the armrest in your usual position. As the movie begins, you’re mumbling along to the opening song. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that Dean is watching you. You scowl at him, elbowing him in the ribs.

Dean smirks at you and then grabs your ankles. He straightens out your legs and lays them across his lap. No one seems to notice or care, except for Sam, who gives you a look of encouragement. You reciprocate the glance because it looks like Sam and Gabe are working their way up to inching their hands closer and closer to each other.

Hopefully by the end of the night, their fingers will have at least touched. You know for a fact that Gabe is over-confident until he actually knows someone is interested in him. Knowing how new Sam is to all of this, Gabe is probably gonna be extra shy and slow now.

Having your legs on Dean’s lap feels intimate; you’re sharing personal space as if you’re friends, or maybe more than that. You suppose it’s just all about the comfort while watching the movie.

And then Dean’s resting his hands on your shins. He starts to rub circles into your calves with his thumbs. You give in to his touch, your eyes drifting shut. You know the movie well enough to listen to it. His hands slide down to your feet. You snuggle deeper into the couch as Dean massages your aching feet.

“Do you know every word to this movie?” Dean whispers. You push your heel into Dean’s thigh as a response if he’s trying to mock you.

“Mmhm,” you nod.

“Oh yeah, that’s why we started the band,” Gabe adds and you groan with embarrassment. Sam grins and looks at everyone around the room. Balthazar, Castiel, and Gadreel are ignoring the conversation, eyes trained on the screen; they know the story.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks for clarification.

“When we were younger, we’d watch this movie all the time and crank the soundtrack in the car. Y/N was a star! Had it all memorized and could sing the duets without my help,” Gabe chuckles. You cover your face with both hands. Dean squeezes your foot. “That’s how we decided to do a cover band. She could sing Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman’s parts. She had a range just like she does now, only now it’s better. Just wait,” Gabe says.

Sure enough, with everyone goading you, when “The Elephant Love Medley” comes on you let loose.

“Love is like oxygen! Love is a many splendored thing. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love,” you mumble, mimicking Ewan McGregor’s voice. “Please don’t start that again,” you say like Nicole Kidman. “All you need is love…All you need is love...all you need is loooove. Love is just a game.”

You switch back and forth between the two characters with ease and familiarity. You keep your eyes closed to stave off any embarrassment but one peek at Dean and you find him fascinated and amused. Does he read into your couch-side performance and lyrics? Any shame you have is washed away when Gabe joins in.

Throughout the movie, everyone sings along when they choose too. Balthazar and Gadreel particularly enjoy the “El Tango de Roxanne.” Castiel chuckles lightly at the “Like A Virgin” scene and “Come What May” is your favorite song. Dean tries to mess you up by tickling your feet.

When the movie is over and Sam and Gabe are picking out a second movie, you go back into the kitchen and choose to sit on the counter, munching on a bowl of grapes you pull from the fridge. Now that Dean has finished his second piece of pie, you offer him some. He chuckles, probably because pecan pie and green grapes don’t go together but he still takes a couple. They’re tart and he grimaces.

Dean leans against the counter across from you; the two of you engaged in a stare down as if there’s something to be said or an action to be taken. You offer him some more grapes but he declines, opting for another bag of popcorn.

“So….” you finally mutter. Dean’s ears perk and he looks at you, expectantly. “I...um...I owe you an apology.” Dean looks confused.

“What? What for?” You look down at the bowl of grapes in your lap and then set them aside on the counter so that you can properly wring your hands and look ashamed. You’re not used to this, apologizing for something like this...

“I used you. That one night…the first night...” you trail off, letting Dean fill in the blanks. “I didn’t even get to know you before I jumped your bones.” Dean chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but let your gaze be drawn to those tanned and strong forearms. Dean shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s okay. I’m used to one night stands.” His voice is low and you don’t know if it’s because he’s hurt or if he’s just trying to be mindful of the five other men in the loft. You frown and furrow your brows.

“But a one night stand entails that you don’t see each other again. You keep coming to the shows.”

“I like your music,” Dean mutters as he pushes off the counter and approaches you. He rests his hands on your knees and parts your legs slightly so that he can stand between them. Your breath hitches in your throat the closer he gets. He stares up at you with those dazzling green eyes; sitting on the counter makes you taller than him.

“Oh I seriously doubt that. I know you’re a classics kind of guy.”

“How do you know that?” Dean smirks at you. “You hardly know me, Y/N.”

“Hmm...that’s true…” you reach out to caress the hair at Dean’s temple. Dean leans into it.

“So how about we actually get to know each other?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Dean purses his lips and shrugs. Damn, how is he so ruggedly sexy and adorable at the same time?

“Maybe,” he whispers and winks at you. You take your sweet time answering him. He pinches your legs, making you squirm and giggle.

“Alright, alright! I actually know a place we could go to. Do you remember that night when we went to the nightclub? And you said you hustle pool?” Dean nods. “Jo’s mom runs a bar off the highway. It’s called the Roadhouse, it has good food,” you suggest.

“Pool and bar food? You’re speaking my language. When do you want to do it?”

“How about tomorrow night?”

Dean agrees.

You slide off the counter. There’s little space between your bodies, Dean is caging you in with his hands on either side of you. It’s when Cas clears his throat that the two of you spring apart.

“I’m going to go home,” Castiel announces, shirking on his trenchcoat and grabbing his car keys. You walk over to Cas and give him a hug which he reciprocates. “You did amazing tonight,” he mutters in your ear.

“Thank you,” you say graciously. “Thank you for the talk before the show,” you refer to conversation everyone had about your behavior on stage while ignoring Dean. Castiel looks over your shoulder at Dean, who’s still standing in the kitchen.

“Uh...be safe,” Cas finally warns. “I didn’t mean to suggest you should date Dean, I just meant that ignoring him wasn’t the best way to handle things,” he whispers. You squeeze Cas’ bicep to reassure him.

“Don’t worry. I knew what you meant. I just...I dunno...I think I like him,” you whisper back, though you’re both out of Dean’s earshot. “I’ll see you later.”

Everyone else bids Castiel goodbye. Gad and Balthazar call it a night; the movie Sam and Gabe picked out wasn’t of interest to them. Nor is it to you. Dean walks over and rubs shoulders with you. He doesn’t seem too interested in the movie either.

“I think I’m going to go to bed too,” you mumble to yourself, unsure of the protocol when a guy is at your place and you want to go to bed. Are you supposed to invite him with you? Would it be so weird? After everything that’s happened?

“Then I should probably go,” Dean sways from side to side, looking down at the ground. You notice that it’s almost 3 in the morning.

“It’s late, though. You could stay here if you want. You and Sam. Wouldn’t want you to get in an accident because you’re tired.” Your excuse is as lame as it is valid.

“Alright, I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“But I have a bed. With plenty of space for two people.”

“Well that’s backwards. Sleeping together the night before our first date. Y/N, I’m really trying to be some sort of a gentleman!” Dean scoffs. You bump his shoulder again and take his hand.

“That’s not what I was suggesting! We would actually sleep.”

Dean chuckles, “Okay, sure.”

“Hey Gabe, we’re turning in for the night too. Dean is staying over.”

Gabe waves off your statement, completely disinterested. Dean tosses Sam the keys to his car. Sam’s unprepared and startled. Did Gabe pick a horror movie? You’re not sure. The keys in Sam’s hands are his option to stay or go. He seems invested in the movie so he doesn’t make that decision right away.

Once in your bedroom, it takes about ten minutes of Dean looking around and being awkward for him to finally settle in. He removes his shoes like it’s a no brainer but when it comes to undressing anymore, he hesitates. What’s appropriate for an adult sleepover without the sex?

You approach him and slowly lift up his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. You can’t help but let your fingers roam over the expanse of his chest and abs.

“I don’t think I got to enjoy the sights that first time,” you murmur. Dean chuckles as his hands move to his belt. You inhale sharply.

“Relax, I’m gonna sleep in my jeans. Just wanna take off the belt.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed,” Dean smirks at you and it’s enough to make you turn away in spite, crawling onto your bed like an immature child.

“I can keep my hands to myself...now.” You get under the covers and peel them back for Dean who climbs in beside you. He settles into the mattress, lying on his back. Without giving it a second thought, you curl into Dean’s body, cozying up and resting your cheek on his chest and one hand on his abdomen.

When you look up at Dean, he smiles at you, then cranes his neck forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. You both feel like you want to keep going, to kiss more and more until it’s not enough and Dean is craving your touch. But somehow you show restraint by pulling away and resting your cheek on his chest.

“You know, I forgot to mention…” Dean speaks into the darkness of your room. “I really liked the cover of The Beatles you did tonight.” You hum your appreciation of his compliment. Your eyes are already shut and Dean is stroking your hair in a soothing manner. “Do you sing The Beatles often?”

You answer him by sleepily but coherently beginning to quietly sing “Hey Jude.”

You have no idea how much the song means to him. You don’t know that his mom used to sing that song to him as a lullaby. You don’t know much about him at all...but you guess that’s what the date is for tomorrow night.

I love pens and pencils! Though I hate it when pencil smudges. I like pens because I can color code my writing; I used to keep a single notebook for all of my current stories and I color coded the pens so that I could stop and start working on different stories with a simple bullet point. Plus, I think most of us would agree that there’s something so satisfying about finding a pen that writes so smoothly over the paper and makes your handwriting look perfect. There’s something nostalgic about writing on paper but sometimes my mind can get ahead of my pen so I prefer the computer and even still sometimes I can’t type fast enough. 

You probably want to think about what works best for your and your lifestyle. Are you always on the computer at work? Do you always have your phone with you? Do you use the memo pad on your phone? Or do you like to carry a notebook in your purse? Even if you prefer to computer to paper, I would suggest incorporating working on paper sometimes. Writing on paper is an excellent way to slow yourself down to think about the story. Perhaps make a to-list or maybe write out your outline on paper. 

That brings me to my next answer. I like to use outlines! Those books I was talking about...they can give you worksheets to plan out your story and characters. But you don’t always need that. Even just a simple bullet point list of ideas and storylines can be useful! For us fanfiction writers or anyone who ever deals with writer’s block, outlines can be particularly helpful in keeping the story going. For the people writing a fanfic series, outlines can help you plan out each part so that you know where to break and then you can even tell your readers, “Hey this series is a 10-parter!” However, remember! Even if you have an outline, that doesn’t mean you can’t let the story take you in a different direction and develop different parts of the story. You would just get to say, “Hey now this series has 15 chapters!” Your readers would definitely be happy to know if their favorite story got an extension. I don’t know about you guys but plain and simple, I like having a plan. It’s less stressful, which is important when you’re writing fan fiction. Bottom line, you are writing for yourself but yes, you have readers too and you can ease the pressure if you have a plan.

Choosing what point of view you want to write in can depend on your characters and subject matter. One of the popular categories in fanfic writing are reader inserts. This is one of the few places where a writer can get away with writing in the second person, using the word “you” rather than “I” (<<first person) or “he/she” (<<third person). There are pros and cons to all POVS but I’ll save the point of view discussion for another Badass Bitch at a later date. ;) I’ll just say that aside from my reader insert fanfics, I prefer third person omniscient. Past and present tense is all up to the writer’s choice too. However, most books you read these days are in past tense and that’s the preference for most readers and publishers. Simply put, past and present tense is either “says” or “said.” I’ve read before that present tense it limiting because it doesn’t give the characters any hindsight. It puts everything in the moment. It’s action oriented and similar to screenwriting.

I think those last two questions are very important! 

Keep it to yourself or share it?? Most writers are plagued with low self esteem for their writing. In a world saturated with stories, it’s hard to be original. And also some writers--maybe even the same ones--are perfectionists. They don’t want to share their work until it’s perfect. But that’s nearly impossible isn’t it? A writer is their own worst critic. I personally believe in sharing your work. Share it with a beta, a friend or a fellow writer, and you’re opening yourself up to improvement. How can you improve your craft if you won’t let someone else read it? Besides you might be surprised! They may enjoy it and a reader patiently waiting for your next story becomes your motivation to keep going.

Speaking of craft and motivation...let’s think about my namesake, Rowena. Writing is a craft just like witchcraft. Rowena has spent centuries honing her craft and while we obviously don’t have centuries to learn, we need to understand that writing takes time. And it takes practice! While we all have our muses and source material, we can’t always wait around for that. If you want to be a better writer...if you want to improve...you have to want it. You have to be willing to practice just like you’d practice any other skill. If you want to write, you shouldn’t let anything stand in your way. Hell, you should schedule your writing time if you can. It can take a couple of weeks to form a writing habit but once you do, you’ll feel the urge to stick to it--enough so that if you skip it, you’ll be sad or feel guilty. Having a routine or writing habit also eliminates the need for a muse all the time, though it may eventually show up. Not only will a writing routine leave you satisfied and provide an emotional outlet for you but your readers will thank you too. Practice also definitely pays off too when you have someone to keep you in check, to support you, bounce ideas off of, and share their own wisdom. That’s what betas or writing friends are for! Rowena knows that a coven benefits her and makes each witch stronger and the same goes for a writing group! 

Every writer has a different process, different experiences, and different backgrounds to pull from and having a writing support group can only benefit you and make you a better writer! Being a writer is not a lonely task if you don’t want it to be. Making friends on Tumblr is relatively easy and since fanfiction is so common, it’s definitely possible to find or create this invaluable support group.