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COPING WITH GRIEF / DEAN – @pulledfromhell ❛ they say grief is like a hole in you that never gets filled. you just learn to build your life around it. ❜ ( hi! )
❝IMAGINE WHAT THEY DON’T tell you about it.❞ oh she knows; she knows it well. the was it can swallow you if you’re not careful, the way you don’t just build your life around it, but how it taints every aspect and haunts you something worse than a ghost.
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@pulledfromhell . . . . ♡’ed .
betty gave an impressed whistle as she came out from under the car. laying on her back, hair spilling out behind her in a long ponytail, she wiped a smudge of oil from her cheek and sat up. ❝ so –– I have good news, bad news, and great news. ❞ she grinned, pulling down her shirt where it had ridden up. no need to flash the customers. ❝ what do you want first? good, bad or great? ❞
a starter for @pulledfromhell
dean's vision swam the moment he opened his eyes. he instantly slammed them shut again and squeezed hard. his head pounded and throbbed with each breath and his mouth tasted like an ashtray. all he wanted to do was go back to sleep but the morning light shining in was making that impossible.
"shut the blinds, sammy," he groaned and rolled over. but no one responded. no scathing remark. no annoyed sigh. dean cracked open an eye and looked around. he was alone in the motel room.
well, that woke him up.
after hastily getting dressed he made another annoying discovery. his car was gone.
missing brother. missing car. okay, so he was starting to get really annoyed. he had a feeling sam was doing this to get back at him for going so hard at the bar last night. but hey, he deserved a little fun, right? he had to show that uptight standford boy how to actually party.
dean didn't have to go far before he spotted his car. he rolled his eyes. it was just parked in front of a diner. he expected sam to be more clever than that. but as he neared he noticed the trunk was open and he could tell it was not sam fishing around inside.
"hey pal, back away from my car real slow and i promise not to give you a second asshole. hands where i can see 'em."
@pulledfromhell said: ❛ the hell are you doing here? ❜
until dawn sentence starters
“i could probably ask you the same thing.” it was, after all, illegal to break into and enter private property (not that that ever stopped finn before and clearly didn’t stop this guy either). he shifts from his crouched position carefully, trying to keep the creak of floorboards underfoot to a minimum, and moves to boarded up window to peak outside. no lights and he couldn’t hear the sirens or shouting anymore. maybe they had finally lost him. he’d need to go back to the ditch and collect his bike later, if it was even still there, if it even still ran after that stupid crash.
he turns his attention back to the man and eyes him warily. now that he was, for the moment anyway, safe from recapture, he’s realized that he might be in a completely different kind of danger. what was this guy doing here? he hadn’t been in this little town long — he had actually just gotten there that morning — and didn’t know anything about it or the people here. just his luck...
my tag needs fixing
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❛ whatever the opposite of a celebrity crush is, that’s what zak bagans is to me. ❜
assortment of sentence starters—☼
“I don’t disagree, but can he actually be worse than the Ghostfacers? At least the ghost hunters on TV are all bad at their jobs.”
❛ What happened? ❜
meme || @pulledfromhell
“it feels like my head is going to explode.” the pain trickles into his words, every last one of them. he doubles over in anguish, immense pain throbbing in his temples. one arm helps to keep him stable on the side of the bed, both hands gripped into his hair. “dean help me.”
pulledfromhell replied to your post: “…..it’s weird to think i’m almost five...
“Subway train tall? That might be terrifying.”
“the SANDWICH, dean. not the train.”
