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excerpt from 'white oleander' by j.finch; for @helenoftroysam

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That moment that you realize that all Sam has ever wanted was to impress his family. To be a good brother. To prove himself. That the longer the seasons go on, the most he seems to have given up little by little. 

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finally watched moon knight yesterday and i dont remember the last time i was this obsessed with the soundtrack of a show

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biggg fan of post cage sam moaning and screaming incomprehensible stuff when dean's fucking into him. it all sounds like gibberish to dean, he's doing so good that his baby brother can't make words anymore.

6 months later they're working a case where dean's made to learn enochian and that's when he finds out that sam was screaming satan worship. he was screaming for lucifer to come and take him apart.

and sam would have no memory of doing so

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im seeing gilmore girls pilot jared and thinking that dean perhaps is a stronger man than me cause if that baby deer told me he's walking out and never coming back, I'd fall to my knees soap opera style and never get up again

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the pre-series sam vs. sammy complex is sooooo delicious to think about like. sam is independent, disobedient to john and dean, too smart for his own good. sammy is sweet and trusting, their pet, their kiddo, and they would sammy sam to death if they could, until no sam remained

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they're the same picture.

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lately my favourite part of spnblr is that on posts i made ripping into dean, there are people in the notes being "that's right! i love him like that!" i see you and i respect you. like, i do not feel you but i see you for sure.

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which evil dean moments made u go DAMN

okay so my usual disclaimer that until my friend and I watch s12-15 together my memory of them remains spotty and another disclaimer that there are sooooo many good Evil Dean™ moments so I chose to focus on the ones which watching for the first time gave me the tails.jpeg reaction (and still do <3)

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tearing out hair, clawing my face, gnawing at my cage. dean became john sam became dean ..

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wait uhhh in the supernatural universe adam and eve were God's creations and the forebearers of human kind , right?

but castiel said he remembers an older brother telling him to " not step on the big fish, big plans for that fish" which seems to be a reference to vertebrates coming to land and eventually evolving into humans.

so which is it? in spn universe were human created or did they evolve?

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look i know castiel made a lot of mistakes, messed up a lot of things but ever since 06x20 when dean went "well why didn't you come to me?" after he found out cas was working with crowley i cannot be mad anymore bcs at the least his decisions are autonomous at the end. like, dean telling a being who existed before vertebrates walked on land that he should've been consulted on heavenly warfare is funny enough, the show reinforcing that all those unconsulted decisions being wrong/bad/disastrous is even funnier. but at the least he keeps fucking up completely on his own, we still have that.

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@seanwinchester so obsessed with this

there's an unique necrophilia angle you can use while writing angel or demon sex where it's not really necro but there's enough awareness to create the horror

like imagine sastiel. theyre naked, on the bed. sam under cas but castiel getting called on urgent heaven business and its easier for him to just exit his vessel and come back in a minute, he doesn't even really think about it and sam, who had his eyes closed from how good he was feeling, had to look at cas again cause what's wrong, why'd he stop moving sudden- and there's a pair of blank, lifeless eyes staring at him, neck that can't support the head so it's lolling to the side, skin clammy and rapidly getting cooler and than cloying smell of dead is suddenly everywhere and sam's about to be sick, wanting to move this dead weight off of him but his arms are frozen. he feels like a spectator standing on the doorway now.

and then cas comes back in his vessel and kisses sam like nothing even happened. sam spends the rest of the day trying to come back to his body

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mary campbell winchester who doesn't necessarily regret her demon deal, because she loves john, she does, in a deep and intense and preternatural way that scares her, sometimes, if she looks at it head-on for too long, but sometimes....

sometimes she just misses what she lost. what she traded in exchange for john. to have his snapped neck put back to rights and the breath put back in his lungs; what has to stay dead because she wanted john alive more.

she misses her parents when she has to clean out the house without him. she calls her cousins, campbell kids semi-settled within a day's driving distance, and four of them descend on lawrence to gut the house of everything hunting related before john gets it in his head to help her. she misses her daddy when she puts her hands on john's chest and looks up at him with real, actual tears trembling on her waterline and tells him she needs to be alone to pack up her parents' things. she misses her mama when john tucks her hair back from her face like she's something delicate and worth protecting, something that wouldn't trade two lives already lost for his.

it all has to go, everything hunting.

they pack it up into cardboard boxes and plastic milk crates -- the books, the journals; the cb radio set in the den and the armory behind the false wall in the bedroom; thousands of rounds packed in ammo cans labeled with her daddy's neat draftsman's hand printed on strips of masking tape: CONSECRATED IRON. SILVER -- PURE. SILVER -- ALLOY. COPPER -- STANDARD. her mom's correspondence book of every hunter they've ever known, the names and numbers and home addresses of people who sat at the campbell's dining room table and bled with them and died for them all throughout mary's entire childhood.

most of the clothes in the closet get donated, but mary keeps the box of baby clothes her mama had kept tucked up high on a shelf in their bedroom closet, in case she someday has a little girl with john's dark hair and the winchester name. she keeps the memory box with her first lock of hair and the jar of her baby teeth and the tattered scrap of her crib blankie. she keeps her dad's letterman sweater and her mama's canvas jacket with the padded shoulder where a rifle's meant to rest. she wants her daddy's wristwatch, but it goes into the pyre with the rest of his effects. their wedding rings, her mother's engagement band, all of it; mary watches it all burn down to smoldering cinders with her parents' shrouded corpses.

mary keeps what she has to -- her knives (one for every birthday since she turned ten), and a few handguns. john knows she and her parents were big into "target shooting", so it's not implausible she'd keep a couple. but most of it goes to her family downstate, redistributed amongst the campbell clan. she keeps the slim leather-bound volume printed in 1932 with detailed runic symbols and protective sigils, the sort her mama used to draw with magic marker on the underside of the insoles every time mary got a new pair of shoes. (she misses her mama when she does the same thing to the tiny shoes she puts on the baby boy mary named after her.)

she misses her daddy, who never gets to walk her down the aisle. he's not there to give her grief about "that goddamn nightgown of a hippie wedding dress; jesus, mare, you gettin' hitched today or you just roll outta bed?" or do his best to scare john shitless "as is a father in law's prerogative, damnit!" but then make sure his tie's on straight, 'cause john hasn't got a dad to do it for him.

she misses her mama worst when she's pregnant -- the first time with her little angel, her baby boy with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes and two-thirds of his grandmama's name on his birth cert. and almost worse with sam -- john stayin' nights on a cot in the back room of that damned garage and herself to blame for it (he shouldn't'a said that, but she shouldn't've drawn her pistol on him like that, either; not with dean in the next room, sprawled out on his belly on the rug in front of the tv), eight months pregnant and huge as hell, dragging the garbage cans to the curb at five o'clock in the morning with dean on her hip 'cause he'll scream if he's set down even for a minute, and her housecoat coming open at the front and mary wants to sit down in the new-mown grass and weep, she's so goddamned tired, she wants her mama, she wants her daddy, she wants to go back and change her mind and have them flanking her on either side at john winchester's funeral. she wants her mama to brush back her hair and give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her everything's gonna be alright, and she wants her daddy to admit that john was a decent boy even if he was a civilian, and she wants to trade all of them -- her husband and her son and the baby rolling like a hoopsnake inside her -- for her family back.

(she'll feel different in a few hours. after she and dean have gotten a little more shut-eye, and she's made breakfast that caters to the demands of a bacon-obsessed toddler but doesn't also make her wanna hurl, maybe they'll go see john. see if she can't win john's forgiveness with the guileless screams of delight her sweet boy will no doubt give his daddy, and a few kicks from baby to the hand john will inevitably rest on her belly. but for the moment she thinks, oh, god; I should've let him die.)

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SUPERNATURAL -> 1x1 ❝ pilot ❞