#Dean and Cas forgetting that they aren’t the only people in the room

[superawesome40]

Imagine this:

It starts with Bobby John. Dean can't let the baby go, he reminds him too much of Sam, way back when Sam was this age, and Daddy was always sad (or drunk), and when Dean tried to speak the words got stuck, and he could not make a sound. He can't let the baby go, so he doesn't.

Over time, they gather more. Bobby John, Ben, Joe and Ryan, Emma, Alex, Krissy and Aiden and Josephine, Magda, Claire, Jack. They find Jesse again, 16 years old and alone and scared of himself. They find Charlie and Kevin, and even though they aren't quite their kids, they treat them with the same care.

Somewhere in between the always rising tide of children, they find the Bunker. It's perfect - dozens of rooms for everyone to spread out, to have their own space. Bobby doesn't die, but he does move to the bunker "To keep an eye on ya' idjits,”. The modifications they make to the Bunker for his wheelchair are worth it to see the pride in his eyes. Linda Tran moves in, and she and Dean have an ongoing war over who's in control of the kitchen.

Of course, things aren't perfect. Chuck is still a problem, and eventually he must be dealt with. They win, but the cost is heavy. Cas and Jack are gone, and Dean... well he's as good as gone. He never leaves his room anymore, except to get a drink. Their dysfunctional family is mourning, both for those who they've lost and for themselves. Disappearing and coming back is much more traumatic than you'd expect.

Eventually, in an attempt to cheer him up, they convince him to go on a hunt. Just a small thing, a nest of vamps. They've killed a man and mutilated his wife, as well as taken their kids, two small boys. Someone (later, no one will remember exactly who) jokes that they can take in the boys. Sam and Dean leave, looking more cheerful than they’ve been in weeks.

They get the call a few hours later. Sam tells them over the phone, barely understandable through his tears, that Dean was hurt in the fight and that the doctors aren’t sure if he’ll pull through. Using the variety of cars in the bunker, they break a handful of laws and probably the sound barrier on their way to the hospital. Bobby pulls Sam aside and he explains, in detail, what happened. They wait for hours before a doctor finally enters the waiting room, asking for the family of Dean Fletcher* (Millie Winchester’s maiden name).

Dean survives, barely. Recovery is an uphill battle, and the damage done to his spine, muscles, and nerves leave him wheelchair-bound and in near-constant pain. Eventually, he’s able to move around for short periods of time using forearm crutches and leg braces, but it’s only after a few years and a lot of physical therapy. At the very least, the Bunker needs no new changes to accommodate him, having been updated for Bobby ages ago.

A year passes. The two boys from the vamp hunt are moved into the Bunker after their mother succumbs to her injuries in the hospital, and quickly adjust and thrive in the new location. Sam and Eileen quit hunting, permanently. They move to town, only fifteen minutes away, and visit every Saturday for family dinner. When they get married, Sam Winchester becomes Sam Leahy. Jody retires, and moves her hoard to the Bunker. They’ve got the room, after all. Donna follows not too long after. Miracle is officially trained as a service animal, to help Dean with his panic attacks.

One night, Dean can’t sleep. He hauls himself into his wheelchair and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. He stops at the sight of three people sitting at the table.

The reunion is a tearful one. Dean cries from relief, and guilt, and of course the burning pain that rips through his back as a result of him temporarily forgetting he can’t stand and launching himself out of his chair. Cas also cries, sobbing apologies into Dean’s hair from where they are curled on the floor. Jack, pressed between the two of them and both overwhelmed and overstimulated, can only beg for Dean’s forgiveness. His dads wipe away his tears and press kisses to his cheeks, assuring him that he has nothing to apologize for.

The only one who doesn’t cry is Adam, sitting slightly stony faced at the table. Later, once the commotion of the reunion has died and Sam has been woken and summoned to the Bunker, the three sit down to chat.

Adam tells them that he’s not angry anymore, and begs them to explain everything to him, starting from the beginning. He is especially curious about their father, and realizes through their stories that John badly mistreated them. Dean invites Adam to stay in the Bunker, but Adam declines. He says that there’s a lot he needs to do, but hesitantly suggests that they stay in touch. Their relationship is tentative at first, but eventually he becomes a permanent fixture in the family.

Cas and Jack are filled in on what they missed. Dean pulls them each aside and apologizes privately for the things he said and did before the end. He assures Jack that he is part of the family, and always will be. He tells him he’s willing to be Jack’s dad, if that’s what Jack wants. Jack enthusiastically agrees.

He can’t quite bring himself to say “I love you” to Cas, but he says something along the lines of “maybe one day.” He also implies to Cas that John was extremely homophobic, and the combination of that and the sexual trauma he has experienced through his life (getting money for food/rent as a teen, Hell, Lydia) makes him hesitant now to form romantic relationships. Cas, understanding as always, agrees and comments on how he has improved at opening up, to which Dean replies that there wasn’t much else to do when he was trapped in bed and couldn’t escape Sam and his relentless therapy-talks.

Jack tells them as a group that he has decided there doesn’t need to be a God, and has stepped down after reforming Heaven. He says that he used his power for the last time to bring back Castile and find Adam. He confesses to his parents that the power is not gone, and likely never will be. He also says that he would like to grow up as human as possible, and promptly shrinks to the size of a toddler, much to the bewildered amusement of his parents. They discover that he no longer has his memories, and Bobby suggests that they may come back when he’s older, and that forgetting is his young mind's way of protecting itself.

As time passes, Cas and Dean open the Bunker to other hunters as a research facility and safe space to stay for a few nights. Neither of them hunt anymore, but they offer support and badly needed organization. With Charlie and Kevin’s help, they set up a system like the one Sam originally had.

When Eileen and Sam announce they are expecting, Dean is ecstatic. When they reveal the baby is a boy and that they are naming him “Dean II”, he cries for a solid hour. He’s the first, outside of Sam and Eileen, to hold the baby, who he affectionately nicknames “Junior”.

In the end, they are happy. They live together peacefully.

Would anyone be interested in reading this on ao3? I miiiight be planning to write this… also any suggestions/question/concerns are welcome! Also, if I missed any kiddos (canon only, please), feel free to tell me! I’m perfectly open to expanding their hoard.

Also, I cannot take complete credit for this story. Quite a few elements are inspired by foolondahill17’s stories, Dean Winchester’s half-way house for orphaned half-monsters (and humans), and the miracles ‘verse by the same author. Both are absolutely amazing stories, and I highly recommend.

*According to the Supernatural Wiki, Adam Glass wanted the actress Louise Fletcher to play Millie Winchester should she appear on screen.

[klarriel]

Nimrod

Chapter 11 / 27 - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Soon, Dean will be a distant, uncomfortable memory. In years to come, they’ll say ‘Remember that crazy guy that lived in our building, that was always super bummed and totally ruined Thanksgiving one year?’

He hurt them - Cas especially. He’s doing them a service by not saying goodbye.

He slams the Impala’s trunk closed, and pulls out Alistair’s card.

(Please check TW’s for this chapter on ao3)

Story summary:

It's 1979, and the world is at the cusp of a new decade.

Dean Winchester lives in the small town of Smith Center. He keeps himself invisible, his father's words in his head a never-ending reminder of the past he'd rather forget.

When the mysterious musician Castiel Novak becomes his next-door neighbour, Castiel will see him, and save him, in more ways than one.

Dean will have to learn that people don't always leave - if you ask them to stay.

Start from Chapter 1!

Chapter Text

The oxygen stutters in Dean’s lungs, with a tightness that constricts his chest like he’s just been winded. 

This isn’t like the times where his heart is racing and his breathing is a sticcato as he tries to calm himself down - he’s had plenty of those times to know the difference.

His lungs seem to have simply forgotten how to work. 

“H-how long?” He finally manages.

“Dean…” 

“How fucking long Ellen?” He repeats himself, and if Ellen’s face is anything to go by, he’s not the only one who’s surprised at his tone.

When Ellen doesn’t answer, Jo steps in.

“The doctors say… they’re not sure, but it could be months…  it could be weeks-“

“Why the hell aren’t the doctors that are telling you all of this actually doing anything about it? Isn’t there a pill or an inhaler or something - a guy I went to school with used to have trouble with his breathing and he got an inhaler, dude was the fastest runner in the track team, it’s-“

“It’s not as simple as that, Dean.”  Ellen half whispers, “Don’t you think they’ve tried?” 

Dean shakes his head slowly.

“You’re giving up.” 

Now it’s Ellen’s turn to get mad.

“Don’t you dare, Dean Winchester. ” Her brow draws, “You have no idea what I’ve been through these past years - how much my body’s been through. Sure, if you know anyone with an extra heart and, I don’t know, half a million in dollars for medical expenses, I’d be happy to take it from them, but…. That just ain’t the world we live in. Sometimes things don’t work…. and we just- we just have to accept that.”

Dean swallows, and tries to stop the fury of it all from eating him up.

The pain and injustice boils in the pit of his belly until he feels it erupting upwards. It takes all of his strength to muster up a few words.

“Thank you for a beautiful dinner Ellen.” He spits through gritted teeth, and pushes past her.

“Dean-” Ellen murmurs, but he’s already thrown the door open and moved halfway across the maroon carpeted floor of their living room.

The remaining dinner party jump in their seats, startled by his sudden appearance. They all turn to watch in silence as Dean throws on his jacket. He adjusts the collar, throwing a pointed look at Cas, who is slowly rising from his chair as he tries to read Dean’s expression. 

“Happy?” Dean lets some of the venom in his tone slip through, because it’s completely Cas’ fault that he feels like his heart has been ripped right out of his rib cage.

Cas locks eyes with him, but Dean storms out before he can get a word in. 

For the first time in years - he needs a stiff drink.

He slides into the Impala - the others can make their own way home as far as he’s concerned - and speeds off, tyres screeching.

If he’s going to drown his sorrows, he needs to get out of Smith Center. He knows Ellen will come looking for him, and he knows the first place she’ll check is the Roadhouse. Billie’s isn’t safe either - stumbling home late at night and being found in a ditch by any one of the people sitting at that table isn’t a pretty thought.

And so for the first time in a long time, 

Dean drives out of Smith Center, alone.

—--

He doesn’t get far, settling on the first bar he sees on the outskirts a couple towns away - a modest shack, paint peeling off the exterior walls so much that the once bold nameplate has all but vanished. A wooden sign promising beer is hanging slightly off of its hinges, and the gravel cracks under the Impala’s wheels as he parks up outside. 

The two heavyweights standing by the front door eye him warily, as they take a drag of their respective cigarettes, cowboy hats covering their eyes. He steps out and makes his way to the door, slowly and unassuming, eyes down. Only when he gets closer does he nod to them, placating, and pulls the door open. They don’t seem to take too much notice of them, too busy reminiscing about the glory days that gave them the badges nestled on their chests.

The thick fog of cigarette smoke is the first thing he notices.

The second is the way everyone’s eyes turn to train on him, conversations tailing off as the twang of a country musician hums over the speaker. The small room is filled with older men, and the sea of camo makes it clear that most of them are vets. 

Dean’s no stranger to scenes like this - hell, places like this were a dime a dozen in his time on the road. He’s got the perfect formula nailed - order a drink, don’t speak unless spoken to, flirt with a lady and hustle enough for a night in the nearest motel. 

He parks himself at the bar, and the pretty barmaid flashes him a smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving handsome,” She casts a glance over him like she’s surveying him, eyelids drooped, “What’ll it be, darlin’?” 

Perfect.

His mouth contorts to the familiar facade he’s had in his back pocket for years, and suddenly the hollow pit in his stomach is taped over. 

“Whiskey - make it a strong one.” 

She nods, curling a strand of hair behind her ear, and moves to grab a glass when a hand slams down onto the bar.  

“You got some ID?” 

Dean looks up, startled, to see the man’s eyes pressed at him. His arms flex in a show of intimidation, his snake tattoo dancing on his arm,  and Dean swears he can see the steam shooting out of his fucking ears. He can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the request - he hasn’t been ID’ed for years, especially not in run down shitholes like this. 

“Man, what the hell-” 

“Show some ID, or you’re out.” 

Dean tries to hold his stare, but he feels the silence in the room, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at what must be a wave of darting glances.

Then the barmaid sighs and reaches over to take the guy’s wrist, seemingly to try to calm his outburst. That’s when Dean notices their matching rings.

Go figure.  

He sighs, but he obliges - he’s not drunk enough to make a scene in a place where he’s outnumbered. He slides off of his stool and makes his way back outside. He chances a wink at the brunette as he passes the barrel stacks, and the reaction that gets from the Incredible Hulk back there does make him reflect on the wiseness of that decision, but he shrugs it off. 

The two men he passed a few moments ago are gone when he exits. Looking around, he really can’t see what else would be enticing nearby - there’s nothing much of anything in this place. 

He reaches the Impala, swinging open the door and leaning in. He stretches out his arm as he rummages through the glove box for his wallet, his knees indenting into the upholstery. His fingers touch on calloused leather, and he smiles in triumph as he pulls it out. 

Something else follows, and Dean watches as it falls to the floor of the car. 

It’s a small, off-white rectangle of cardboard adorned with black text. The mere sight of it makes Dean’s stomach sink further, as if that’s even possible after everything that happened. 

But Dean doesn’t have time to wallow right now - there’s a whiskey in there with his name on it. 

He quickly bats the card, making it slide under the passenger seat. He clambers out and brushes himself off, bracing himself for round two. 

The two cowboys emerge from a shed round the back of the bar, tightening their belts. 

[soullessjack]

okay for the two people who said yes: (hello gang) (also Sorry this is gonna be really disorganized I’m doing it in between some irl stuff)

so the basic gist of it is

• “Jack faked being God to run away because he couldn’t cope with literally anything” to

• “Jack basically used ‘becoming God’ as a way to effectively safe guard himself from ever losing control again”

• “something something chuck won and jack is stuck in the narrative as a tool/weapon”

and I think it’s all connected to jacks s15 arc and possibly his decision to leave and “become god.” though it isn’t really given a lot of focus in the actual season because the pacing was really fucking bad, Jack’s entire arc is just about him wanting to kill himself, and throughout some of the episode scripts we get this established:

15x12 ↳ apprehensive, ill at ease among his old room, his old things. anxious, pacing….unsure if he really should’ve come back here. -on jack, uneasy in his own skin.

(which is also This scene btw)

↳ —feeling nostalgia for his old home. but mostly—feeling uneasy. estranged.

//

15x14 *not in the show unfortunately*

↳ Jack: “This is my fault. Maybe she’s right. What if I lose my soul again, or…lose control, or—. I’ve done it before. Since then…nothing’s been the same. You, Sam…”

//

Jack has also confessed his actual feelings/intent to Cas twice; first in 15x13 with him admitting that he’s going to die as part of Billie’s plan and as a way to amend/atone with Sam and Dean, then in 15x18 with him telling Cas that he doesn’t even know why he’s still alive [without the purpose Billie gave him]. Of course, Cas tells Jack that he’s loved for who he is and not because he’s part of a grand scheme, but we may as well go fuck ourselves with that entire sentence, because how does Jack’s story end? With him becoming part of a grand scheme and ultimately leaving the only family he’s ever known or had.

** i will tack on the rest of of last holiday, also, just because I think it’s an overlooked element/trauma in jacks character. like, here’s this kid and two men who are all grieving the same mother, and suddenly they’re visited by the magical embodiment of a traditional grandmother—a staunchly maternal figure—who feeds them and cleans for them and offers support for them, and throws traditional celebrations for them too. She’s filling in the Perfect Mother idea that Sam and Dean never got, while sharing the apple pie picket fence life that none of them ever had. Before her intentions are revealed, Mrs. Butters tells Jack this—

↳ “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. But, life gives us second chances…and it’s our obligation to hold on to them.”

—which is completely antithetical to when she later states that Jack is a bloodthirsty, dangerous monster who’s infected Sam and Dean into loving him because he’s Lucifer’s son (and he’s only kept in the bunker as a prison)—all of which can be traced back to Jack’s established fears about both his “true” nature and place within the Winchester family, btw, and is currently being reinforced by the new Mother Figure (the guidance Jack had previously cried for in 14x18). **

additionally ²:

the episodes Ouroboros and Absence both showcase an internal struggle Jack has with his sense of morality and selfishness. in Ouroboros, he directly tells Cas that it’s selfish of him to not use his powers to help the people he cares about when he’s capable of doing so, and then in the following scene completely and intentionally destroys his soul.

In Absence, while it’s more implicit, all of the “advice” Hallucifer gives to Jack — to forget about his life with the Winchesters, forget about fixing his mistake and only trust himself from here on out— is all selfishness, particularly as a means for self-preservation, which Jack is previously shown to have a complete and reckless disregard for, especially when protecting others, or doing something for them.

Furthermore, Jack has also been characterized as extremely determined (if not wholly stubborn). as dean said in 14x07, “when he gets like that, there’s no stopping him.” IE: once jack decides he wants to do something, he will not let it go or back down from it unless he absolutely has to—or, like in most of his cases, unless he’s forced to let it go. He had to be physically restrained by Sam and Dean to stop from chasing Kaia after she ran off, and then shot in the back six times to let go of Nate. his failure to go through with killing Michael when he had the chance literally haunts him to the point that he’s restless, and in Absence, Jack pretty much just kidnaps Rowena (someone he’s shown to genuinely admire, mind you) and forces her into helping him resurrect Mary—all the while being incredibly volatile and impatient with the process, and then violently shoving her back into her flat when she goes against him because of the spell’s risks. Between bullets, total systemic failure and a botched resurrection, it takes a lot for Jack to finally give up on something.

//

Sorry this is taking genuinely forever to finish or even keep organized, so TLDR. I don’t think Jack would have given up on Mary that easily or quickly, and whether I trust it or not (it’s the latter), he’s now God and has full access to all the other worlds with all the other Marys out there…so who’s to say he wouldn’t do a little multiverse jumping trying to get her back still?

i know we’re balls deep in destiel again But since revival talk is upon us again can i possibly pitch to anyone my jack guesses . Pretty please

[winchester-cas]

Can we just take a moment and appreciate how gay episode 13x14 was

[castiellesbian]

i feel like i need a glossary of terms or a contact list for all these people involved with the show. i have shit memory and dont pay attention to the credits who is sera (sara??) and why does everyone hate her!! why is he Bobo!!!!!! please... has anyone posted about this im desperate

lol well including everyone involved with the show would be difficult, but I’ll give you some highlights

Eric Kripke: creator of Supernatural, showrunner for seasons 1-5. People have differing opinions about him but general people enjoyed his run and he’s considered the best showrunner in the series overall. Not much to say because there’s a lot to say lmao (notable episodes: “Pilot,” “Lazarus Rising,” and “Swan Song”)

Sera Gamble: writer who was involved from the beginning of the show, became showrunner after Kripke left. Her seasons, 6 and 7, are typically regarded as the weakest seasons. She was a huge brothers-only supporter, and was responsible for Misha being written out of the show (as well as Jim Beaver, Bobby) in order to get the show to just be about the brothers again. There’s a lot of drama regarding her treatment of Misha/Cas, but more recently she’s known for the Magicians debacle, a horrendous example of the Bury Your Gays trope. She’s also involved with (the showrunner of?) You on Netflix. She was a pretty good writer, but overall fans dislike her because of her showrunning tenure (notable episodes: “Faith” with Raelle Tucker, “Death’s Door,” “The Born-Again Identity”)

Jeremy Carver: writer from season 3 that was promoted to showrunner from seasons 8 through.... some time in 12, the timeline has been a little murky to me. He was the one who brought Cas back into the main plot, as well as allowing the deancas storyline to become genuine subtext (we can argue whether it was queerbaiting or what he was intending to do if he had been running the series finale, but yeah). Unfortunately, he was also the showrunner when Charlie was killed off brutally, which dampens his legacy. People are conflicted about his seasons, but generally he’s looked upon favorably (not related, but the picture that comes up when you search him on google is NOT him, he’s really like a typical white nerdy looking dude lol) (notable episodes: “The Rapture,” “Sacrifice,” “Do You Believe in Miracles?”)

Andrew Dabb: writer from season 4, promoted to showrunner during season 12 and is the last showrunner of Supernatural (he wrote the finale). He was well-liked by deancas fans for awhile because of how much screentime they were allowed to give, and because of the focus on extended/found family. Sam and Dean only fans didn’t like him for the same reasons. Unfortunately, HIS legacy has been marred by the awful series finale, though it’s debated whether that was his fault or because of network meddling. (notable episodes: “Dark Side of the Moon” with Daniel Loflin, “The Prisoner,” “Moriah”)

Robert Singer: executive producer since the beginning of the show (he’s also co-showrunner throughout Supernatural, but I don’t think he typically was involved with the plotlines too often). He’s directed quite a few episodes, including the infamous wire fight episode (s13 finale) as well as the series finale. Married to Eugenie Ross-Leming, writer of the show

Eugenie Ross-Leming/Brad Buckner: writing partners TECHNICALLY from season 1, but they only wrote one episode until they were brought back in season 7. They are regarded as the worst writers in all of Supernatural, responsible for tactless death scenes of fan-favorites (and typically minorities) like Kevin, Charlie, and Eileen. They also feature a gross amount of dubcon/noncon, racism, weird unnecessary sex stuff, and are SUPER into Lucifer for some unknown reason (they have a crush on Mark Pellegrino I guess). They’re also just kind of bad writers in general, their pacing is weird and their plots convoluted. To be fair, though, they have written some good moments, like Dean trying to reach Cas in Hell’s Angel and Dean’s confessional scene in Paint It Black. But overall, they suck. Why are they still on the show even though BOTH sides of the fandom (who never agree on ANYTHING) dislike them? Well, because Eugenie is married to Singer. Nepotism. (notable episodes, the ones I can stand to watch lmao: “Holy Terror,” “Hell’s Angel,” “Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven”)

Ben Edlund: writer from season 2 who left after season 8, but people STILL talk about him simply because he is arguably the strongest writer of the series. Cas fans particularly like him because he did most of the heavy-lifting regarding Cas’ characterization. He also wrote the famous bi!Dean scene with Aaron in season 8, where Dean is flustered after being flirted with. (notable episodes: “On the Head of a Pin,” “The French Mistake,” and my all-time favorite “The Man Who Would Be King”)

Robert “Bobo” Berens: writer from season 9, his first episode was “Heaven Can’t Wait,” which is all you really need to know about his influence on the deancas storyline. He’s also gay, so people particularly enjoy seeing how he approaches destiel in his episodes since it’s not just another straight guy potentially just catering to fans. He was also the one who was meant to go off and run Wayward Sisters, and is responsible for a lot of their development in recent seasons. I believe he also created Rowena? He wrote the episode this season where Cas confesses his love to Dean (along with other heavy deancas episodes like “The Trap”). Sam fans typically don’t like him because he doesn’t give him much focus. (notable episodes: “Heaven Can’t Wait,” “Who We Are,” “Wayward Sisters” with Andrew Dabb)

Steve Yockey: writer from season 12 through the beginning of season 15. Also gay, and also responsible for deancas moments in recent years. Generally loved for his deancas subtext but ALSO because he is an amazing writer who came out with iconic episodes. (notable episodes: “Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox,” “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets,” “Peace of Mind” with Meghan Fitzmartin)

Robbie Thompson: writer from seasons 7 through 11, and wrote some fan favorite episodes in the meantime. He is also the creator of fan favorite characters like Charlie and Eileen. He was also one of the few writers who was vocally supportive of destiel during his tenure rather than just later. I’m not implying anything about his intentions, but it was validating for him to encourage fans during a time where most of the cast/crew ignored or actively dismissed it. Plus his episodes are just fun! (notable episodes: “LARP and the Real Girl,” “Fan Fiction,” “Baby”)

Meredith Glynn: writer since season 12, has worked closely with Bobo during their seasons together. She and Bobo cowrote “The Future,” which is the mixtape episode, so she has been taken in by deancas fans haha. She also wrote the episode where Cas makes the deal with the Empty, so it’s pretty safe to say she and Bobo had worked on the deancas plotline together :) She’s also liked some deancas-related tweets on twitter, so she’s being subtly supportive (notable episodes: “Regarding Dean,” “The Future” with Robert Berens, “Byzantium”)

Davy Perez: writer since season 12 (a lot of the ones I’ve mentioned are, since this is when Dabb became showrunner and made changes in the writers room). His episodes tend to either be horror or bizarre. I mention him because he’s responsible for episodes like “Stuck in the Middle (With You)” (Cas’ first “I love you”) and “Tombstone” (aka Brokebacknatural lmao). I don’t know much about him otherwise, but that’s why he’s brought up usually (notable episodes: “Stuck in the Middle (With You),” “Tombstone,” “Atomic Monsters”)

hopefully this helps, and hopefully I didn’t forget about anyone major. There have been a LOT of people behind the scenes so it’s hard to say who to include. Like, I didn’t mention Jerry Wanek, Jim Michaels, Kim Manners, Thomas J. Wright, or others who might be mentioned from time to time.

[lulu-zodiac]

Title: Car Crash

Prompt: “Sex hair and bedroom eyes (somewhere innocuous)” (for @winchester-reload’s prompt roulette)

Summary: Cas attempts to seduce Dean. Dean (not so) slowly loses his mind.

Note: I’ve had a few people asking me about a tag list for my fics, so if that’s something you’d like to be a part of then pls let me know <3

Cas has always looked a little devastating. Rumpled dark hair that makes him look like he’s just been thoroughly fucked, and those intense, deep stares that make Dean forget his own name. But lately – lately, Cas has become a whole other thing. The dishevelled hair has acquired an artful, tousled look, and he takes off his trench coat sometimes, showing off the strong, lean lines of his torso and the slender angles of his hips. Sometimes, if it’s warm, he even rolls his sleeves up. It’s driving Dean a little bit crazy.

But, worst of all, is the way Cas has started looking at Dean. Having Cas staring into the depths of his soul was always a bit of an overwhelming experience, but this is something else. Cas’s gazes have evolved into something that’s borderline seductive, all smitey and smouldering and deep blue. It’s the kind of intensity Dean has only come close to experiencing in the middle of fucking someone, and honestly, it’s a bit more than he can take. He’s not sure when Cas stopped looking intently serious and started looking like he wants to fuck Dean all the time. He assumes it’s some kind of misplaced angel interpretation of how humans interact, because, based on Cas’s past transgressions, that just seems like the most logical assumption.

Regardless of what’s causing it, it’s starting to get under Dean’s skin. Cas turns up everywhere now with this sex hair and these bedroom eyes, like it’s totally acceptable to look like a steamy movie scene at a morgue or a diner or unannounced in Dean’s motel room in the middle of the night. Like he has now idea how wildly inappropriate or inconvenient it is, how fucking distracting it is. How much it’s making Dean slowly lose his mind.

Up until now, Dean has managed pretty damn well at completely ignoring any less than platonic feelings he has for Cas. But trying to maintain that kind of front while Cas has been eyeing him seductively him at every possible opportunity has – been taking its toll, to say in the least. Last week, Dean accidentally stabbed a tree instead of the irate werewolf he was hunting, all because Cas showed up in a dramatic flash of light, all rumpled hair and protective glare. Later that same day, Dean had been forced to abandon his pie in the diner because, honestly, having Cas eye-fucking him across the table with Sam right there was all just a bit much. Two nights ago, Dean, flustered from hours of Cas staring at him like he wanted to jump him, attempted to take a drink from a lamp on his bedside table instead of the bottle of beer.

It’s getting to the point where Sam will intermittently make mildly distressed sounds and leave a room, and, more concerningly, Dean keeps accidentally stabbing things that aren’t meant to be stabbed (walls, a fridge, a rosemary bush, and in once unfortunate moment of inattention, Sam). He knows it’s reached a point where he needs to talk to Cas and make him understand what he’s doing. People’s lives are at stake. Dean had nearly run over an elderly lady last week just because Cas was in the passenger seat staring at him.

But Dean has been struggling to bring himself to speak to Cas, because, although he’d never admit it aloud, he kind of likes it. Being able to live – however briefly – in the illusion that Cas wants him as much as Dean has tried not to want him for so long. Dean knows Cas doesn’t really want him, that it’s just some muddled up angel-to-human mannerisms that have got confused, but it’s still surprisingly let go of.

Read more on Ao3

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 6: Firsts

24 fics under the cut

Sometimes Things Just Work Out | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 1,027 Main Tags/Warnings: arranged marriage, angel Cas, royalty AU, mistaken identities Summary: Castiel is not looking forward to being forced to marry this Prince Dean person. The angel had never met him, never even laid eyes on him. For all he knew, the marriage would be miserable. Now, this human who's trying to hide in Castiel's room? It made Castiel wish that he wasn't going to be part of an arranged marriage, because he was really starting to like this green eyed stranger.

Through the Night | @smokerdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,147 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel Out of the Empty, Soft Epilogue, First Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sharing a Bed Summary: The motel is the same as thousands of others Dean has stayed in over the course of his life, but it's different, it's better, because he is here with Cas.

The Report Card | @fpwoper

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,211 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Crack Fic, Blow Jobs Summary: The morning after Dean and Cas first fool around, Dean finds a honest to god report card.

Dragon's Den | @fpwoper

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,280 Main Tags/Warnings: First Date, Dragon!Cas Summary: Dean and Cas's first meeting is in a coffee shop they randomly chose. It's just... a little dragon heavy.

Taking one for Team Free Will | @fellshish

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,560 Main Tags/Warnings: First kiss, pov dean winchester Summary: There’s a spell that requires an angel’s kiss to work. Dean takes one for the team.

Cannibal Queen | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,683 Main Tags/Warnings: creature!Castiel and creature!Dean, first time, porn with plot, virgin Castiel, mild gore Summary: What's a zombie to do when he finds out his (pretty hot) roommate and best friend is a vampire? In the case of Dean Winchester, the plan is to convince said vampire that they should team up and heist slaughterhouses. But when a run goes wrong, there are some unexpected consequences...

A Sign of Affection | @clarrisani

Rating: General Word Count: 2,159 Main Tags/Warnings: First Kiss, Fluff Summary: Castiel learns that different kisses mean different things.

9x06 coda : I'm sorry | @allofmystudentsrunaway

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,288 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Angst with a Happy Ending, AngstEmotional Hurt/Comfort, fanfic gap Summary: fan fic gap first time.

The blonde-haired witch and the little push | @chaoticdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,830 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Witches, Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed Summary: It’s not the first time Dean’s ever had to listen to someone referring to Castiel as “his boyfriend”, but it sure as hell is the first time he has to sit through a diner listening to a witch referring to Cas as his husband without even batting an eyelash, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Which would be fine if it didn’t cause actual shivers to run down his spine. (or the one where a friendly witch gives Dean the little push he needs)

Every Part of You | @the-communist-unicorn

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,097 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Panty Kink, Married Dean/Cas, Explicit Sex (but non-penetrative so there's no top or bottom), References to Homophobia Summary: Cas discovered his husband's secret completely by accident, but now that he knew, he wasn't just going to let Dean shove it back in that shoe box like it was something to be ashamed of. Every part of Dean was perfect and beautiful, and Cas might have just discovered a kinky side of himself too.

Whiskey and Wifi | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,401 Main Tags/Warnings: Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean, Dom Sub Undertones, Neighbors, Castiel Has A Panty Kink Summary: Cas may have lost a WiFi connection, but when he makes his way over to his neighbors house, he ends up gaining something much better.

At Last! | @chaoticdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,617 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Airports, First Kiss, 5+1 Things Summary: Five times Dean kept his mouth shut, and one time he didn’t.

OUR FIRST TIME | @cooloddball

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,920 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff and Smut Summary: Dean & Cas' first time together

Ghost Town Saints | @nothing-but-dreams

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,010 Main Tags/Warnings: College, House Party, Beer Pong, Marijuana, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Trans!Castiel, Supportive Dean, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: College is out for summer vacation, and that means Cas is back home with his family. Ever since he came out as trans, things have been tense, to say the least. After yet another argument with his parents, Cas needs to clear his head. Luckily, his best friend Dean is just a text away. Dean suggests the two of them escape reality for a bit and hit up a party being held at Ghost Town. As they drink and get high, they realize their feelings for each other run deeper than friendship.

It Started With Arousal | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,260 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, angel Cas, alpha Cas, omega Dean, soul bonds, virgin Cas, porn with plot Summary: It was when Castiel violently slammed the demon into the wall mid-fight that he felt it. The bond he had with Dean ever since he pulled the omega out of Hell had been getting stronger lately, but this was the first time that Castiel truly experienced an emotion that wasn't his own. He had expected something like this to happen eventually, but there was no way he ever would have expected such a feeling at a time like this. Dean was… aroused? He spared a quick glance at the hunter, meeting green eyes but seeing nothing that might cause said arousal. When three more demons kicked through the door to enter the room and the fight, Castiel promptly forgot the confusing emotion. For the time being, at least.

Kiss Me | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,285 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Humor, Friends to Lovers Summary: Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake. Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this.

Kiss at the Drive-in | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,380 Main Tags/Warnings: fluff and smut, getting together, drive-in cinema, semi-public sex, car sex, non-penetrative sex, handjobs, shy!Dean, dirty dancing, implied Bottom!Dean Summary: When Dirty Dancing airs in a Drive-in Cinema near the Bunker, Dean really wants to go with Castiel. Of course only because Castiel’s education about movies is still bad. Not like it’s a date. Sadly.

Swayze Always Gets A Pass | @kingdumbass

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,766 Main Tags/Warnings: Bunker Fic, First Kiss, Drunk Dean and Cas Summary: After Dean and Cas get into an argument over a case, Dean tries to apologize by asking Cas to Netflix and chill. Featuring: Cas the movie critic, his drunk friend, Dean, and Dean's tired brother, Sam.

Y Tu Dean Tambien | @a-mandala-rose

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,909 Main Tags/Warnings: High School AU, Geek Dean, Closeted Bi Dean, Pan/Possibly Demi Cas, Referenced Homo/Biphobia, Low/No Angst, Implied/Referenced Consensual Underage Non-Penetrative Sex, Nothing Explicit, Happy Ending Summary: Dean Winchester has a crush. A great, big, secret, gay crush. Okay, more like a great, big, secret, bisexual crush, if we’re being technical. Either way though, the relevant word here is secret, because Dean lives in Kansas, which isn’t exactly known for its thriving LGBT community. In fact, he’s pretty sure most of his neighbors don’t actually know what LGBT stands for and he’d be willing to bet that if asked, at least a solid 10% would think it’s a sandwich. So yeah, nobody knows that Dean’s spent the past six months crushing on Cas Novak, the sexy junior in his Spanish II class, and it’s damn well going to stay that way. “Hola, Señor Winchester,” murmurs a gravelly voice in Dean’s ear, straight out his dirtiest fantasies and close enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck, as Dean suppresses a shiver. The smirk on the mouth housing that goddamn sinful voice tells him that while he may have resisted the full-body shudder, his red cheeks did not go unnoticed by the boy sliding fluidly into the desk directly behind him. “Hey, Cas.” Nobody knows about Dean’s crush except for Cas, that is. Cas definitely knows.

Game of Survival | @sorajinsei

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8,317 Main Tags/Warnings: Suspense, Alternate UniverseThriller,Alternate Universe - Purge, Demonic Possession, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies Summary: Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play? Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey? There's no surrender and there's no escape.

Talk Therapy | shara (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,309 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Rimming, Communication Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, ALL the issues Summary: "Alright fine, you can put a finger in me," Dean says one night while watching Cas go down on him. Cas pops his mouth off Dean’s dick and stares at him. "I never said I wanted to put a finger in you," he says slowly, and then stops and tilts his head. "Do you want me to put a finger in you?" ~~~~ Dean comes to terms with this thing with Cas, and with himself.

Bind Me To You | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18,184 Main Tags/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Public Blow Jobs, Mild Kink, Condoms, Mutual Pining, Switching, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Light Bondage, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation Summary: Dean and Cas meet in a one night stand, but lust, chance and eventually more bind them together.

Tempered Desires | @mattzerella-sticks

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 20,013 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pandemic, Baker Dean, Dean has ADHD, Recreational Drug Use, Meet Cute, First Date Summary: Dating, sex, and finding love were the farthest things on the minds of both Dean and Castiel. There were more important things to worry about - namely the pandemic that swept across the globe and changed everything. Navigating this new environment was hard enough without adding romance. But fate never intervenes when you expect. From first meetings to first dates, we'll see how Dean and Castiel's relationship blossoms despite the circumstances.

Put That On A T-Shirt | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21,524 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean’s First Time With A Man, Blowjobs, Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas, Semi Public Sex Summary: Getting blindfolded and blown by a random dude his girlfriend knew didn’t exactly sound like an ideal Sunday for Dean, until it actually happened.

[unforth]

Why does everyone always recommend Twist and Shout for destiel? Like what happened in fandom at that time to make it so popular that it's now a staple? I haven't read it. I refuse. I know there is major character death and people complain it is OOC so I'm just wondering why do people love it so much? I have read so many long fics written by immensely talented writers in this fandom that end hopefully and tackle difficult subject matter while maintaining character voices that it seems a shame that T&S is always recommended

So, I also haven’t read it - I don’t do MCD, no matter how highly recommended a fic comes. However, here’s what I’d say in answer to this question.

Twist and Shout came out, it was during a period when the fandom was huge, and exploding. Season 8 was something of a Destiel renaissance (it’s when I started shipping it, for example) and it’s not a coincidence that a lot of the best known fic came out in 2012 and 2013 (for reference, T&S started posting on October 15th, 2012, according to AO3). I wasn’t active on AO3 Destiel fandom at that time (I started reading fic on FF.net in early 2013) nor was I active on Tumblr or in fandom circles where shipping was a big Thing, so I don’t know what the general fandom reaction to it was at the time, but presumably it met with a fair degree of popularity. People liked it. People recced it. I have no idea if it had the MCD tag at that time, but presumably it did. People read it knowing that. And presumably, some people didn’t like it, and some people didn’t rec it, but like any other fic it went through a process of developing popularity.

Why did it get to be first?

In my honest opinion?

Utterly random chance. If you look at ANY developing fandom, some of the trends are in fact totally random, at least to begin with. Once the avalanche starts, though, it’s self-perpetuating.

Think about it. You’re in a brand new fandom. You don’t know anyone. You haven’t read anything. You’re desperate to read something. What do you do? You go to AO3, find the ship you want to read, and you sort by most hits, or most kudos, or most comments, and decide - I’m gonna start by reading these. You see the first fic...okay, MCD, a little off putting...but it’s got SO MANY HITS and SO MANY KUDOS...just take the chance!

So, you (my hypothetical fan) read this fic. One of two things happen - you either love it or you hate it. If you hate it, you may not even finish it, but regardless, you’ve added to the stats - your views count, and maybe you liked the early chapters and kudosed, or maybe you remember everything you’ve heard about authors liking comments on early chapters of fully posted works, and you commented. So those stats have gone up, even if someone HATED it. And on the second, you love it - and you come out gushing! You kudos! If you’re super enthusiastic maybe you log out and give it a second guest kudos! And, as you start getting into the fandom and meeting people, you want to spread this love - you tell your friends - hey, I just read this great fic, and yeah, it’s MCD, but just give it a chance!

And so it begins again - if you tell four people, and they read it, and two hate it, and two love it, and those two tell four people, and two hate it, and two love it, and it just cascades.

Why is Twist and Shout the most popular fic in this fandom? Because Twist and Shout is the most popular fic in this fandom. Yes, it’s a tautology, but it’s entirely self-perpetuating. People read it because it’s listed first. People read it because they like it, and re-read it and re-read, and re-read it, to get that high. People hate read it. People read it just to find out what the big deal is. In a fandom with coming up on 100,000 posted stories, Twist and Shout has almost twice as many kudos as the fic in second (by the, in my personal opinion, far more deserving Annie D, though it’s also not their best work in my opinion, and the reasons it’s up there are likely the same), and almost four times as many hits. By any measure on AO3 surveys, it’s number one when people sort, and lots of people will read it simply out of curiosity.

That kind of popularity is self-perpetuating. And of course lots of people love T&S - it has 1.2 million hits, and almost 35000 kudos. Even if we go extremely conservative and say, 35,000 people have read T&S, that’s simply a shit ton of people, and if even only 10% loved it, that’d still be 3500 people gushing about that single fic. I’ve been writing for 5 years and I don’t have a single fic with even 3500 kudos, and I’m considered a relatively successful writer in this huge fandom.

But here’s, to me, the most important thing - I truly believe any fic can be a Twist and Shout. It’s a confluence of events that makes a fic such a juggernaut, and the vast majority are simply luck. Random drift means one fic is gonna end up on the top of the heap - and once a fic is there, reading tendencies, confirmation bias, and exposure guarantee it’ll STAY on the top of the heap.

I started the Destiel Favs Survey because I felt that the “top 20″ fics by hits in the Destiel fandom didn’t reflect the fics people actually like. I got curious, so I made a list.

In February 21st, 2017, the top 20 fics on AO3 by kudos were:

Twist and Shout by gabriel and standbyme (which, at the time, had 25,507 kudos)

Dean Doesn’t Listen to Eurythmics by Annie D

An Exercise in ‘Worthless’ by beastofthesky

Revealed by Valinde

Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseofthefallenone

Into Your Hideaway by thepinupchemist

How (Thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel (Accidentally) Raised Each Other (and Sam) by Vera_DragonMuse

A Room of One’s Own by NorthernSparrow

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone

Grey by Valinde

Convenient Husbands by Annie D

Forget-Me-Not-Blues by noangelsinthegarrison

When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone

Real Slick Dean by trilliath

In This Secluded Spot I Respond as I Wouldn’t Dare Elsewhere by RhymePhile

The Breath of All Things by KistmetJeska

Unfamiliar by riseofthefallenone

Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) by kototyph

A Hole in the World by AnnelieseMichel

A Beginner’s Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight

Today, 1/9/21, four years later, the top 20 fics by Kudos are:

Twist and Shout by gabriel and standbyme (no change in rank, now has 34,907 kudos)

Dean Doesn’t Listen to Eurythmics by Annie D (no change in rank)

Revealed by Valinde (+1 in rank)

An Exercise in ‘Worthless’ by beastofthesky (-1 in rank)

A Room of One’s Own by NorthernSparrow (+3 in rank)

How (Thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel (Accidentally) Raised Each Other (and Sam) by Vera_DragonMuse (+1 in rank)

A Turn of the Earth by microcomets/mishcollin (not on the old list by kudos, but it was on the list by 2018 when I did another check in)

Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseofthefallenone (-3 in rank)

Into Your Hideaway by thepinupchemist (-3 in rank)

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon (the first work to break through, and it’s in tenth)

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison (+1 in rank)

Grey by Valinde (-2 in rank)

Convenient Husbands by Annie D (-2 in rank)

Professional Couple Only by saltyfeathers (our second new work)

Real Slick Dean by trilliath (-1 in rank)

A Beginner’s Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight (+4 in rank)

When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone (-4 in rank)

Unfamiliar by riseofthefallenone (-1 in rank)

The Breath of All Things by KismetJeska (-3 in rank)

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone (-11 in rank)

In 4 full years, only three works managed to break into the top 20, even though - based on my original data, which you can view here - most of these works have nearly double in the number of kudos they’ve had in that amount of time. Further, the most recently written fic on EITHER of these lists is from 2015 - A Turn of the Earth and Professional Couple Only are from 2015 - and all the rest is older.

These fics aren’t the top 20 because they’re better, and if there was even an ounce of objectivity in this list, it would have actually shown any change in 4 years instead of looking virtually identical. 

Twist and Shout, and the other “most popular” and “most recommended” works in the Destiel fandom have that distinction because they’re the most read, so more people read them, so they’re the most read, so more people read them, so they’re the most read, so...ad infinitum.

And that’s not a judgement call against them! There are fics I LOVE on that top twenty list. But, dear anon, you ask me why I think Twist and Shout is the most popular?

All of this is why. Twist and Shout is the most popular because popularity in fic culture is the only perpetual motion machine in the universe. It is self-perpetuating, and as a result, Twist and Shout will always be the most popular fic in this fandom.

And that’s why I do the faves list - because the tops on AO3 tell us abso-fraggin’-lutely nothing, and I thought we needed a list that actually meant something for what fics people active in the fandom truly love - which DOES include some of those top 20 fics by AO3 data, and includes lots and lots of others that are just as or more wonderful.

*steps off soap box*

(sorry this is stupidly long, I have Opinions.)

[idreamofplaid]

Stronger

Square Filled: Sung to Sleep for @spnfluffbingo & Hurt/Comfort for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Moc!Dean x Reader; Sam and Cas mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean thinks there’s only one thing he can do to protect the woman he loves from the Mark of Cain, but Dean doesn’t know everything.

Word Count: 2949

I felt it as soon as I held that thing in my hand. Rage. Raw and burning, demanding to be released. It was fueled by everything I buried so deep down inside me, and I somehow thought all that regret, disappointment, and frustration would never see the light of day. I could keep it buried out of sheer willpower, or it could magically go away if I wished for it hard enough.

That’s not the kind of magic that’s in the world. That’s not the magic I know. The magic I know curses, manipulates, and hurts people. It twists things up into something they shouldn’t be, and it’s all the things that shouldn’t be that make me so mad. They create the anger that’s in me for the mark to draw upon, all those things that never should have happened. All those things that still sit so heavy on me and Sam. 

Mom shouldn’t have died when I was four years old. Dad shouldn’t have tried to drown his grief in a bottle. He shouldn’t have left Sam and me alone like he did. I shouldn’t have watched my brother fall into a hole to hell and try to live a normal life while I knew he was in a cage with Lucifer being tortured. I shouldn’t have had such a good idea of what was happening to him in that cage because I’d been to hell myself.

Everything that’s pent up inside me gave The First Blade its power when I held it, the same way the mark gets its power from me. Those two things combined forces when the blade was in my hand, and I could feel the energy surging through me. It isn’t something I’m going to be able to control, not with silver bullets, rock salt, or a devil’s trap. Nothing I know about fighting is going to help with this thing. 

The day is going to come when this mark is going to take over my mind and everything I do. You can’t be here when that happens. I have to protect you, and that means getting you far away from me. 

I finish off my third glass of whiskey. It still isn’t enough. There isn’t enough whiskey in this bunker, or all of Kansas, to numb me so much that when I do what I have to do it’s not going to hurt worse than anything I’ve experienced in what has, more or less, been a lifetime of pain with brief moments of happiness.

Most of those moments have been with you. Anything I know of true happiness is because you showed it to me. You didn’t grow up the way I did. I’m thankful for that every day. You don’t know what it’s like to sleep with a gun under your pillow, but you’ve slept next to me plenty of times when there was a gun under mine.

That’s bad enough, but I will not let you suffer what this mark is going to do to me. You deserve better than that. You always deserved more than me, but this is where I draw the line. 

I think about pouring myself some more whiskey, but there’s no point. There isn’t anything in that bottle that’s going to give me the courage I need to do what’s right for you. The only thing that can make me strong enough is how much I love you. 

I’ve never even told you. Those aren’t words I know how to say, and it’s better now that I didn’t. That would only make this harder, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to. I never wanted to hurt you. I would go to hell again in an instant if it meant sparing you pain. I guess I am; it’s just this time my hell is going to be on earth, and the thing that will torture me the most is being without you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have to go.” You’re standing in our room with a look of disbelief on your face like you can’t comprehend what I just said, so I try again. “It’s time for this, whatever we’ve had, to be over.” Still you say nothing, just look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours that could make me lose my nerve and not go through with this, so I turn my head away. I can’t look in your eyes.

I’ve got to get through to you. You can’t be near me. I will not let this anger that’s going to consume me consume you too. This situation calls for something else. I still can’t look at you. I cannot look at you when I do this, or I’ll break.

I grab my duffle from the corner where I left it after the last hunt and throw it on the bed, then I open the drawer in the chest where you keep your clothes and start emptying it. I’m stuffing them into the duffle, trying hard not to really notice them because then I’ll remember. 

I’ll think about the last time you wore that shirt, or how this is the one you always wear when we curl up on the bed to watch movies together and end up wrapped around each other, making out and forgetting all about the movie. 

I’m managing to keep it together until I find one of my shirts in that drawer. It’s my black t-shirt you like to sleep in. I can picture the way it looks on you, the way it falls on your thighs and how good your legs look when you wear it; and then I remember the way it feels when your legs are wrapped around me. I take a deep breath.

I have to stop packing the duffle. I can’t touch your clothes anymore, and you see your opening. “Dean, what are you doing?”

I push the image of you in that shirt with your head on my chest out of my mind because it feels like a fist squeezing the life out of my heart. I zip the duffle closed. Whatever is in there will have to do. I pick it up and throw it on the floor. I never faced any monster that tested my courage the way this is. “I told you. We’re done, and you need to leave.”

“Dean, stop it and look at me.” You reach out and put your hand on my arm. It looks so small, and I want to feel it in mine so bad. It’s the hand I thought about holding for the rest of my life, however long that may be. 

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing again before I turn around to look at you. When I do, I feel my knees go weak. Stay focused. Do what you have to do for her. “Don’t make this harder or more complicated than it has to be, Y/N.”

I’m waiting for you to say something. Anything. But I’m not expecting what you do say. “Dean, you’re full of crap.” Now, it’s my turn to look confused. I have no response for that, but you have plenty more to say.

You let go of my arm, stand back, and cross your arms over your chest. “You think you’re doing something noble, and you’ve done plenty of noble things in your life, but this isn’t one of them. There’s no way you’d be saying any of this if that mark wasn’t on your arm. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Dean. I’m not blind, and I’m not stupid. You looked at me that way last night, and I know what it means even if you won’t say it.”

I fumble for something to say, and the best I’ve got is “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your arms fall to your sides. “Like hell you don’t, Dean. You try to stay hidden behind that wall you’ve made around yourself, but before you got the mark; I broke through it. You let me in, and it’s not going to be so easy to push me back out.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down. My eyes follow you; I’m watching every move you make. You’re staring at me, and just as much as I couldn’t look at you before; I can’t help but look at you now.  Your voice sounds steady and determined. You aren’t finished with me. You’ve decided I’m going to hear everything you have to say. 

“I could leave the bunker, but it wouldn’t mean I’d leave you. I’d still be in touch with Sam all the time, asking him about you, keeping tabs on you, doing everything I could to save you. I’ll never stop trying to save you no matter how many times you tell me to go because I don’t believe any of it, and because I love you. You can’t stop me from loving you, and I won’t. I can’t now even if I tried.” You wrapped your arms around your middle and hugged yourself. It was nothing like when you’d taken your defiant stance with your arms folded over your chest.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and all the air had been knocked out of me. All I wanted to do was sit down beside you, take you in my arms, and give you all the comfort you were trying to give yourself. It was true. You wouldn’t give up. That’s who you are. Stubborn. Willful. And the kindest, most loving woman on this earth.

Fuck no. There are tears in your eyes. Not tears. I can’t handle tears. I can’t just watch you cry and do nothing to stop it. The next thing you say blows my plan to pieces. 

You hug yourself tighter, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I need you, Dean. Our...baby needs you.”

I sit down on the end of the bed because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up anymore, and I’m trying to read your face, trying to will you to look at me. “Our...Wh...What?”

When you do look at me, your eyes are sad. Your eyes shouldn’t be sad. More tears are streaming down your face. I can’t just sit here. I slide down the side of the bed until I’m next to you, and I wipe the tears from your cheeks. You let me. You don’t pull away, and I’m relieved for that. Just forget what I said before. I was an ass. I didn’t know.

“We’re having a baby, Dean. Don’t make me go.” Your tears have turned into sobs, and I take you in my arms, my earlier act forgotten. 

I put my hand in your hair and hold the back of your head while I whisper to you and try to calm you down. You shouldn’t be upset like this.  “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I wouldn’t send you and the baby away. I would never do that.” I’ll leave if I have to. You’ll be safe here in the bunker with Sam. He’ll protect you, and this place is warded against anything that might want to hurt you. Sam is so smart; he’ll find a way to keep me out if he needs to. He knows what I would want.

After a few minutes, you stop crying and lift your head from my shoulder. Your eyes don’t look as sad as before, but they’re still sad; I hate that, hate that I did that to you. “Dean, why would you tell me to go when it isn’t what you want? I know it isn’t.”

I take your face in my hands and try to memorize how beautiful you are, in case the day comes when I can’t see you anymore. In case you and Sam can’t save me, I know you’ll try, but…. “Because I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared I’ll hurt you, and….” Wait. “The baby. When did it happen? Did I have this thing on my arm? Is the baby….?”

“It was before,” you tell me. “The baby’s okay.” I let go of you and scrub my hand down my face. Then I turn and brace my hands on each side of me on the bed. This is why I shouldn’t have kids. All this fucked up shit that is my life should never come anywhere near a kid. 

“What if it hadn’t been, Y/N? I could have infected our child with this evil that I’m carrying.” I can feel my own eyes filling up with tears. I could have hurt our baby, just because of who I am. I lower my head and cover my face with my hand. I wish I could hide from you. I feel so ashamed.

All that shame is mixed up with something else, a fierce protective love for you and the baby you’re carrying. I don’t even know what’s right for you anymore. I don’t know what to do.. 

I feel your arm go around me, and your voice is still the sweetest sound I could possibly hear. For some reason, you’re still here talking to me even though I’m a danger to you and the baby. “Dean, you won’t hurt me; you won’t hurt either of us. We’ll find a way to get that mark off your arm. We will.”

I want to believe you, but I can feel it burning. That goddamned mark is burning now. This should be one of the sweetest moments of my life. You just told me I’m going to be a father, and I can feel the mark. It won’t let me forget about it, not for an instant. It has intruded on something which should have been between us.

You put your hand over mine that’s still covering my face and move it to rest in your lap. “Dean, do you want to feel the baby?” Your voice is full of hope; I hear it.

Feel the baby. How can you trust me so much? “Can...can I do that? Isn’t it too soon?”

You smile for the first time since I walked into our room. “Well, it’s too soon to feel it move, but you know it’s there.” You lift my hand from your lap and put it on your stomach. My baby is in there. I can’t help it. I smile too. 

Knowing there’s a life inside you that we made makes me feel something I can’t begin to explain. This feels like an even greater responsibility than saving the world from an apocalypse. How do I fulfill that responsibility with this fucking mark on my arm? It’s too much.

I leave my hand where it is on your stomach, lay down, and put my head on your lap. You have something so precious inside you. I move my hand a little so I can kiss the center of your stomach. “Sweet baby, I love you.” Just like that, I said the words I thought I couldn’t say, and everything I’ve tried to keep pushed down inside me came pouring out.

I cried there with my head on your lap, cried because I’ve dragged you both into this mess with me, cried because I need to be a father to my child. I want to be, but what if I’m not here for him? Or her? What if I’m not even here to see the baby born? What if the mark has taken me already?

Cas will take care of it. I told him to kill me if it came to that. Sam can’t do it; he won’t ever do it. A sob rips out of me. I want to see my baby grow up.

I feel your fingers running through my hair. I never wanted you to see me like this. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Dean, it’s okay.” You’re still running your fingers through my hair. Your touch is so soft, just like you, soft and good. “You don’t have to do this alone, Dean. You never had to do it alone. We love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” I circle my arms around your waist and hold on. I don’t ever want to let you go. 

You take your hand out of my hair and slide it down my back, rubbing back and forth. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I finally stop crying; and your hand stops moving.

“C’mere, Dean.” I can feel you shifting your position, and I sit up so you can move. You lay down on the bed, your head on the pillow, and hold your arms out to me. “C’mon.”

I lay down next to you with my head on your shoulder. You start stroking your fingers through my hair again. “Close your eyes, Dean.”

So close, no matter how far

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

I want to stay here like this forever with nothing but the feel of our arms around each other and the sound of your gentle voice singing.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours; we live it our way

Oh, these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

You make me feel calm. I believe you when you make me feel like this. I believe it can be okay.

Trust I seek and I find in you....

I dream about you, and in my dreams there is no mark. There’s only us and a little girl with green eyes and a smile like yours. We’re happy.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

[sritzthefirefly]

The Not-so French Mistake

Pairing: Slight Dean x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Any and all comments on this are appreciated. I’m sorry for any grammatical errors that I might have made. This is my first fanfiction (as a one-shot, I've written a few earlier in poetry form) so please go easy on me.

“You are going to die.”, he states nonchalantly, as if three men entering your house and telling you that you are going to die is an everyday occurrence.

“I…WHAT?!”, I shout, my eyes round as saucers.

Well, today was a seemingly normal day. Until the seemingly normal day wasn’t as seemingly normal as I thought it would be.

                                2 hours earlier

“Hey, I’ll be leaving now”, my best friend said as she packed the small handbag she always carried around with her.

“Don’t forget the pickle jar and then come back 15 minutes later telling me you forgot the one thing I reminded you about”, I shouted to her from the top of the stairs.

She turned around to pick up the jar from the centre table when her eyes landed on me and she whistled. I pulled the drawstrings of my silk dressing gown tighter as I walked down the stairs.

“Ooooh, would you look at that, someone’s looking good. So, are you going to sleep after I’m gone, or are you going to have some company tonight?”

“I…..I just can’t……not so soon after...ummm……I know I’m stupid but I just wanted to feel good about myself”

She closed the few steps between us and hugged me tightly.

“Hey, you know he’s an asshole. His words don’t count, ok? No guy has the right to make you feel bad about yourself”, she said, pulling away.

“But he…….”

“No missy, you listen here, he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. He should feel lucky he’s not in town or I would’ve kicked him so hard in the balls that impregnating a woman would’ve been a foreign concept to him.”

I gave her a small smile.

“Thanks for hyping me up, love. I’m now going to have ice cream and cry my heart out to sad rom-coms.”

“Bitch, you hate rom-coms. You’re just going to binge-watch Supernatural and you’re not telling me that because you won’t admit that you’re obsessed with the show”.

“Okay, okay whatever……Aren’t you getting late for your train?”

 She looked at her watch.

 “Oh shit! Bye, see you later.” she said as she ran out of the door, slamming it behind her. I sighed to myself and walked over to the TV, switching it on.

“Self-care time for me now!”, I said to myself, as I opened the fridge to get my favorite ice-cream when suddenly, the doorbell rings. I immediately turned my head towards the centre table and sure enough, the pickle jar was there.

Shaking my head, I picked up her precious jar and walked over to the door, pulling it open.

“I knew you……..”, I stopped short when I saw who was standing outside.

There, standing on my porch were, none other than, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki.

And then I woke up.

Yeah, if only it happened that way.

I knew I was looking like an absolute fool in front of them, opening and closing my mouth like a fish, my eyes wide and my breath short as I stood there, taking in the two handsome men adorning my doorstep. They were dressed in their Sam and Dean outfits -plaid, over layers of plaid- it seemed like a scene straight out of a set.

“Hi! You’re Y/N right?”, Jared said in his usual husky voice while Jensen stood beside him, strangely staring at me with something akin to awe in his eyes.

“W…what? I…uh…yeah…I…I am Y/N”, I somehow managed to choke out.

“You’re awesome”, Jensen Ackles breathed out with a sigh with literal heart-eyes in my direction. He cleared his throat and blinked twice and then seemed to step out of his reverie. He gave me a small smile and looked me up and down with a small smirk and I blushed furiously. Wait, was Jensen Ackles checking me out?!

Okay, so there were either of these two things going on- either I was dreaming or I had completely lost my mind. But since I had already pinched myself and well, that damn pinch did hurt, so the situation pretty much tilted towards the latter side. I mean, Jensen Ackles knows me and he thinks I am awesome?!

“Yep, definitely not a fan”, Jared whispers somewhat sarcastically to Jensen to which he replies under his breath with a “Shut up, Sammy!”

I would have paid more attention to what Jensen said had I not had my whole focus on Jared’s last words.

“Ummm…..excuse me? No offense but I’m standing right here and you can rest assured that I am 100% a fan, of both of you. If you don’t believe me, ask me anything about Supernatural.”, I say, crossing my hands across my chest.

“Wha-Supernatural? Like the book Supernatural? You have that here too?”, Jensen asks seemingly surprised.

Alright, is this a game for their show? I thought to myself, utterly confused and dazed. They seem to know my name and well, address too and that can be the only logical explanation as to why Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki are here, on my doorstep. But I couldn’t see any cameras nearby. Maybe they were hidden? Maybe I was meant to be taken by surprise? Oh shit, did I just challenge them right now? Was this being filmed? My mind rushed with a million things- ‘Oh god, I must be looking so stupid right now, acting like a blobfish instead of doing anything!’

I opened my mouth to say something, anything at all, when Jared cut through. 

“Ummm I’m sorry, Y/N, but it’s not really a good idea to be standing outside and talking. I promise we’ll explain everything. Can we please come inside and talk?”

“I….uh…..yeah sure. Come inside please.”, I was about to ask what their deal was but changed my mind when I saw Jensen nervously looking around and then back at me, pleadingly. 

I closed the door behind me as they settled on the plush red sofa. I walked across the room and sat on the chair facing them.

“Y/N”, Jared started. “There’s no easy way to say this but I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. Like, from Supernatural.”

“Ummm…. I’m aware? Despite your contrary belief, I told you I was a fan.”, I said, confused.

“You’re our fan?!”, Jensen asked, somewhat stunned. “Haha sweetheart, am I living my dream!”, he added, his emerald eyes twinkling.

I stared at him through my eyelashes.

“Hold up, quick question, are you a Dean girl or Sam girl?”

“Dean, not now…..”, Jared sighed.

“Dean girl!”, I blurted out, immediately blushing deeply. Jensen’s entire face lit up and I hurriedly added, “No offense to Jared here.”

“Jared? You mean Jared Pada-whatshisname?”, Jensen asked incredulously.

“Padalecki, Dean”

“Son of a bitch! Fake us lives in the same universe as her!”

I started laughing and the both of them turned towards me quizzically.

“Ummm what is this? Some spin-off of The French Mistake?”, I asked.

“The French what?”, Jared looked at me, his eyebrow raised.

“That’s not important right now. Y/N, I know, it’s hard to believe us right now, but we are not your TV actors-we are not Jensen and Jared. I am the actual Dean Winchester and he is my brother, Sam Winchester. The trickster, the archangel Gabriel, owed us a favor and he let us travel into your universe.... Sweetheart please, you have to believe me. I umm uh, I have been a-”

I stood straight up from my chair, angrily.

“I’m sorry but what kind of prank is this? Going to people’s houses and-”, I started angrily when suddenly the entire room got spontaneously flooded with an immensely bright light.

“Cover your eyes!”, a deep, somewhat robotic voice filled the air and I immediately did so to lessen the risk of my precious peepers being completely burned out by an unknown source of dazzling light in my seemingly normal house in the middle of a seemingly normal (absolutely weird) day.

Slowly, the light faded.

And there stood Misha Collins-

No, that could not possibly be Misha. Unless Misha had suddenly evolved to be able to exhibit bioluminescence or had sprouted long black wings from the back of his trench coat or had learned to hover like a bee in mid-air. No, definitely not Misha. 

That means, this must…this must be-

“Holy mother of God”, I gasped out.

“I….am….not….the….I am the son of God”, he said, walking across the room to sit beside Jar-no, no......Sam.

Holy shit! CASTIEL?! That means that all this time, Jens- Dean, had not been lying. I collapsed on my chair, my mind, not being able to form a single coherent thought. Dean leaped up from the sofa and rushed to my side.

“Darling….darling, look for yourself, that-”

“He is Castiel.”, I said, boring into Dean’s green eyes, they brought me comfort. “I believe you…… Dean.”

A look passed between Sam and Dean and Dean immediately held my hand and squeezed my palm as an act of reassurance as he beamed at me.

Sam got up from his chair and smiled at me, “Thanks to Cas here, you believe us. At last. I thought you were two seconds away from throwing us out.”

I snorted. A really ugly snort through my nose. In front of three delicious-looking men, especially Dean, who was somehow still looking at me like I was God’s gift to mankind. Hah, no wonder I was single.

I cleared my throat to relieve the awkwardness and continued,

“Well, in my defense, you guys were acting real creepy.”

Yeah sure, not even in my wildest dreams would I actually throw Jensen and Jared out of my house, no matter how creepy they act, but they didn’t need to know that.

“But how…why……..”, I started asking the questions bothering me.

“Umm well, yeah, about that…”, Dean started, gulping.

Castiel walked over and looked at me with downcast eyes.

“You are going to die.”, he stated nonchalantly, as if three men entering into your house and telling you that you are going to die is an everyday occurrence.

“I…WHAT?!”, I shouted, my eyes wide.

                                        Now

“CAS!”, Sam and Dean both exclaim at him at the same time.

“She was asking.…..”

“No Cas, not like that!”, Sam tells him prickly.

“Please tell me what the hell is going on! Why….How am I going to die? What’s happening?!”, I say, hiding my face with my hair.

“Darling, promise me you won’t freak out.”, Dean says, staring straight into my soul. “You are a character from a book in our universe. My favourite book. And trust me, this...you…. I am a huge fan of you. Have been, since I was a child. Now you see, few months ago, we stumbled into your universe when Gabriel pranked us. And then I saw you. I met you. The real you....just….perfect….And I just wanted to.....I mean..... I came back...I came back because…..”

“Because?”

“I know everything. I know how the book ends and I have come back here to save you, darling.”

Tagging -  @thatmotleygirl @msmarvelouswinchester @athenapotter @mvdeanw​ @bts-spnlvr12​ @holylulusworld @jensengirl83

[riddleblack246]

For @scoobydean and @destielsecretsanta2020

“This could be nice for Jack.”

“’My First Christmas’. Cas, this is meant for babies.”

“It’s still his first Christmas with us.”

“That mean we should get one for you too?”

“If you’d like.”

Read below for some Team Free Will 3.0 holiday head canons~!

After everything goes down with Jack makes use of his new abilities, Sam and Dean are much more willing to fight to keep him with them. He initially wonders if it is because he’s “useful” to them now. The brothers promptly inform him that no, it’s because this is the first time where they can all feel safe enough to take a breath. Sure, they’re still hunters. But after everything they’ve been through, they all deserve a chance to enjoy life without constantly looking over their shoulders. And so Jack stays.

As promised, he brought back those that were loved and lost. Obviously everyone is relieved and thankful, but that is most clearly seen in the return of Eileen and Castiel. Sam and Eileen are quick to pick up where they left off. Castiel, however, is a bit more hesitant. He didn’t expect to ever see Dean again. He truly thought he wouldn’t have to know Dean’s feelings and when he confessed, he felt he could live with that. But now he’s suddenly back in this world, aware of his existence and the knowledge that he told the man he’d been in love with for over a decade how he felt. But Dean doesn’t allow him to panic for long. Enveloping Cas in his arms, he’s squeezing the angel’s vessel so tightly that he can barely get out the words. Nonetheless, he does and finally returns the sentiment that Castiel never expected to hear.

“I love you too, Cas.”

And now to dig into holiday centric joys!

By the time Christmas rolls around, the bunker’s primary couples have developed a sense of routine. Eileen has finally moved in and Dean and Castiel have eased into a comfortable romantic domesticity. And for the first time in a while, there are no hunts to investigate or major threats to take on, and the Winchesters found themselves able to celebrate the holidays in a way that they hadn’t had a chance to in some time (save for the Mrs. Butters stint).

On the first of December, Dean sits down in the library and begins to make a list, trying to figure out exactly what was expected of a traditional Christmas. When Sam catches him, he expects scoffs of disagreement or just bored indifference. Instead, he supplies the idea of inviting some people to the bunker.

“What, Sammy? You want to throw a Christmas rager?” (The statement does earn him an eye roll)

“No. I just thought it might be nice. See everyone together.”

Neither of them explicitly say why it would be nice, but they know the relief that would come with seeing each person they never expected to see again. Dean tasks his brother with making a guest list and sending out an e-mail to those on it (because Dean draws the line at trying to make actual invitations).

The response is overwhelmingly positive and soon enough, they’re fielding constant texts from Garth, asking if it would be okay to bring his kids, and e-mails from Donna, offering to bake a multitude of requested holiday treats. 

Amidst holiday planning, the group allows themselves to give into expectations of the season. Jack and Castiel are largely in the dark of what is or isn’t part of the holidays and while Dean, Sam, and Eileen aren’t the most immersed, they do have an idea of what is to be done and are admittedly eager to dive in.

One of the first things on Dean’s list is to decorate a tree. He even insists on cutting one down himself, as aside from various times he had to cut and sharpen his own stakes, it’s something he’s never had a chance to do. Sam, reluctant to join him, tells his brother to have fun. In the spirit of “giving”, Dean bring Cas and Jack along, assuring Sam and Eileen that they’ll “be a while ;)”. They return some hours later with a tree that rivals the Rockefeller Center and relief in the fact that they have two celestial beings to transport something of that size. Decorating it is another story.

After digging through the bunker and finding that, no, the Men of Letters did not hoard Christmas ornaments or wreaths or any such things among their piles of artifacts and cursed objects, the groups decides to get a little shopping done. They initially hit a big box store for a bunch of basics - lights, tinsel, various colored balls (Dean makes several jokes about this), but as the month goes on, all of them are guilty of picking up random items to decorate with while out.

Eileen delightedly shows her boys a Christmas pyramid she bought and is quick to tell Jack that he can’t light it whenever he wants, as forgetting about it could result in burning down the bunker.

Sam buys all of them advent calendars, each dedicated specifically to every member of the bunker. Dean doesn’t comment on Sam’s shift toward the holiday spirit, not only because he’s happy that his brother has allowed himself to be more joyfully invested in things, but also because every day for the month he gets to appreciate a new and weird specialty bottle of hot sauce. Sam’s own contains different types of tea, Eileen’s has jam, Jack’s has little LEGO figures, and Castiel’s has coffee.

Jack nearly gives Dean a heart attack one morning when the man wakes up to find a nutcracker as tall as he is in the crow’s nest. Jack tells him all about finding it in a shop he and Castiel passed when getting supplies and insisting that it was a perfect thing to have for the bunker. Dean looks to Castiel and knows the angel would have been too soft to say no. Then again, he knows he would have been just as guilty.

Castiel begins buying ornaments for people in the bunker. Even with Dean teasing him about it, he does buy a “my first Christmas” ornament and puts a photo of Jack inside that Eileen helped him print out. He finds that he is particularly fond of ornaments that contain photos and begins to buy ones for that explicit purpose.

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a type of decoration that he finds himself buying outside of what they have, but he is fond of the lights. He usually insists they stay on as long as allotted, urging whoever is the last to go to bed to turn them off (though it’s usually himself).

When it does snow, Dean is eventually irritable about it with Sam and Eileen in a similar boat, though to a lesser degree. Shoveling snow out of the way of the bunker’s entrance is a pain in the ass and none of them love the chore of getting treads on their respective tires. But seeing Jack’s fascination with it - and realizing that it’s his first time encountering snow, they find themselves softening.

After getting help in clearing access to the bunker, the group spends much of the day outside. There is an unspoken agreement that they want Jack to experience all the great enjoyments of snow and it honestly brings out the kid in them too. They build a mediocre snowman (Sam takes the heat for his poor artistic skills), make snow angels (the jokes about Castiel doing so get old within five minutes), have a snowball fight (Eileen is fucking ruthless and not above putting snow down jackets), and creating makeshift sleds to race. The sledding is what ultimately makes them go back inside. Garbage can lids are hard to steer and after Dean eats it by running into a tree and loosing a tooth, even Cas fixing it doesn’t resolve the choice to go in. Nonetheless, the accident doesn’t stall the mood, as Dean insists on introducing Jack to one more awesome component of the Traditional Snow Day - the hot chocolate at the end. Said hot cocoa almost results in a fight when, after Dean makes enough for all of them, Castiel reluctantly admits that he doesn’t care for it, and Dean and Jack nearly come to childish blows over who gets his mug. Later that evening, Castiel makes sure to thank Dean privately for allowing Jack to have it. ;)

Now, when it comes to cooking, Dean likes to consider himself pretty well-versed. Baking is another story. The preciseness that’s required is what gets him. Sure, he can be meticulous, but he’s always been more of a “little of this, a bunch of that” kind of guy over exact measurements, which leaves a lot more room for error when it comes to baking. But after going on a “Gilmore Girls” binge with Castiel (the couple constantly debates the superior show of the former and “Dr. Sexy, M.D.”), he can’t help imagining a scene of tenderly showing Cas how to roll out dough and mussing some flour in his hair and watching the angel lick the spoon in a way that borders on pornographic. The day after watching, he’s searching for cookie recipes and telling Castiel to dig out some aprons.

As is the Winchester way, this expectation does not come to fruition. Cas, as he thought, didn’t know a thing about cooking or baking. But Dean pictured being able to guide him, to do all the romantic shit you see in Hallmark movies. Instead, the angel is complaining about not being able to just will the baked goods into existence, standing in the way when Dean needs to get any kind of ingredient, and getting flour on every fucking surface in the kitchen. Things reach a boiling point when Cas pulls the cookies out of the oven, sans oven mitts, and for a brief moment, Dean’s brain operates on a panic reflex and snatches the tray from his hands. The result is their hours of baking scattered all over the floor, a dented baking sheet, and second-degree burns on the hunter’s hands. He’s huffing and cursing and he fully expects Cas to scold him and point out the obvious fact that he’s an angel and such temperatures have no effect on him. But instead, he watched Castiel pulled his hands from the faucet (having immediately shoved them under there after he burned himself) and tenderly brushes his finger tips over the wounds. Dean feels the familiar sensation of healing flesh, something he hasn’t felt in a bit and he’s silent as Cas brings the newly healed skin to his lips and presses a kiss to his palms. The irritability baking had brought them is gone. Dean lets Cas wave the kitchen clean and they decide to just go out and buy Christmas cookies instead. Later that evening, Cas’ lips taste like ginger and Dean finds that the reality is way better than the fantasy.

They ultimately end up hosting the party that started their shift into the Christmas spirit a few days before the actual holiday. After all, they know most of their friends prefer flying over driving and it might be a lot to ask them to come out on the actual holiday. But their concerns of traffic and irritated guests soon fly out the window in the face of so many familiar… well, faces. Hugs never stop coming and despite everyone’s claim that gifts would not be necessary, everyone knows that’s bullshit and a pile beneath their ridiculous tree grows with every teasing comment and expression of happy holidays.

Speaking of the tree, Castiel is quite pleased with his holiday crafting and the other members of the bunker share that sentiment. Since the angel discovered the photo-insert ornaments, he had taken it upon himself to spend random periods during the month finding photographs of each important person in their lives that he could and putting them into such items. Everyone takes joy in searching for their own picture. Claire comments that he picked a terrible one of her, but Cas hears her quietly asking Dean if she could take it home with her, as it features her and Kaia pressed close in a hug. Charlie adores her’s and insists that she wants to make the same craft, but only if they do it together. Everyone quietly appreciates the ones made for those that aren’t present to appreciate them. Jack ensures that Mary’s ornament has prime placement. Eileen hugs Sam when she catches him looking at Kevin’s for a while. Dean makes a point to kiss Castiel privately after finding Bobby’s nestled among some tinsel. Everyone agrees that their the best decorations in the place.

Hunters and those that know them have never been known to operate on a normal schedule, so it is nearly three in the morning before the bunker clears out. Some have elected to drive home if the trip was relatively easy. Others have settled into the many spare rooms that the bunker holds. Once all the gifts have been opened, the eggnog’s been drunk, and everyone has eaten their weight in treats, only Dean and Cas remain in the quiet bunker. They sit together in the library, positioned on one of the many extended seats they’d brought out to fit their guests. The lights of the enormous tree are still on at Dean’s request and Castiel can’t help staring at the way the different colors still look so beautiful on him. He glances up at the other decorations strewn about. The bows, the poinsettias (Garth had brought something like ten of them), the holly, the- He spots a familiar item of decor. He’d seen Sam and Eileen equally position themselves under it in wait of their partner, always stopping them with the insistence that a kiss must be administered before they continue on their way about the bunker. Lazily, he nudges Dean and points to the archways between the crow’s nest and the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Is standing beneath that a requirement for kissing?”

Dean follows his finger and huff out a laugh. Even though they hadn’t been dating long, they’d been together for so many years that he knows the angel is teasing. He turns to meet his eyes, smiling at the way the lights almost change them from blue to a rainbow of color.

“What, you want to kiss under the mistletoe? Now?”

For a moment, it seems as if he’s considering the offer. But instead, he shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He knows that he could have kiss Dean under there the same way Eileen and Sam do. But he knows they’re different. Dean is a lot of thing and as much as he would deny it, one of those things is private. Their relationship is simultaneously new and so so ingrained into their life. Affection was always something there, just beneath the surface. And while he had the thing he desired for so long, that doesn’t mean he feels the need to push Dean into a realm of affection that just isn’t fitting of who they are together. Leaning forward, he captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. He tastes like eggnog and candy cane.

Castiel understands all the more that happiness is in the being. And he no longer fears his joy. Because he can’t imagine being happier than holding Dean beneath these lights and knowing that they still have tomorrow and so many days to come. There is no better present than that.

[perfectlyelegantdelusion]

Hey, @atomicdetectivehideout I’m happy to be your  @destielsecretsanta2020

Merry Christmas! Please, accept my humble gift for the holiday. It’s a 3k of fluff and stuff (well, when I say fluff, I mean, I really tried!). I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 

Thank you to the most awesomest people to ever awesome @campchitaquamemories and @amyoatmeal for offering to beta this little thing. You guys rock!

Here it is on ao3 if you prefer

Those Things That Couples Do

Come to think of it, it wasn’t such a lame idea. Not lame at all, Dean thought, to the extent he might even have to thank Sam later. Well, maybe not outright thank him, but definitely bake a cherry pie for Eileen (her favorite; the woman sure knew how to enjoy life). It felt nice, lying on the bed with Cas in the semi-darkness, Christmas lights on the dresser and a couple of the apple cider and cinnamon scented candles Cas liked so much (and Dean grumbled about but secretly enjoyed too) being the only source of light. It felt cozy. Safe. They talked in hushed voices so as not to disturb the quiet magic of the bubble they had created in that moment, and dammit, but Dean was grateful to his brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law for this particular chick-flick.

“So, you sure you want this to go on your list as the first item?” Dean nudged Cas gently with an elbow. “Sick of my cooking already? I’m hurt, man,” he added, only half-jokingly.

The idea Eileen pitched to them was to write down three items each to reflect their hopes and plans for the upcoming year. At first, Dean laughed when Sam handed him a blue envelope with four blank craft paper cards to be written on. He had been about to suggest Sam find someone more age-appropriate to participate in that particular brand of cute (Dean could almost see the faces Claire and Kaia would make at the suggestion), but Cas’s quiet ‘It’s a lovely idea’ made him silently accept the package at the last second. This provided Sam with the pleasure of witnessing his older brother biting his tongue and smiling reassuringly at Cas who’d been busy searching Dean’s face for a reaction.

Per the rules Sam had explained to them, they were supposed to write down their plans (which they were encouraged to discuss, because that’s apparently what couples do) and complete a bonus task – individually, this time – describing where they see themselves next year at Christmas. Then, they were to seal their envelope and give it to Sam and Eileen for safekeeping, accepting theirs in exchange. That way next year there would be an additional reason to spend Christmas together and see which things have come to pass.

“Stop fishing for a compliment. You know your cooking is delicious.” Cas turned to look at Dean. “I want to be able to do nice things for you, Dean. Like you do for me. Cooking for people you care about is how you show affection and those small, but meaningful gestures go a long way. I’d love to be able to surprise you with a breakfast pie in bed, or make soup for when you catch a cold, or-“ Dean interrupted him with a chaste and gentle kiss on the lips. “You had me at the breakfast pie, Cas. Cooking and baking: 101 it is.” Cas smiled, reached for Dean’s hand, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Laying back on the pillow, he rested Dean’s hand on his belly, gently stroking the fingers. Dean closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

“What will you put as your first item?” Cas asked a moment later.

“That’s easy,” Dean murmured into Cas’s shoulder. “Beach vacay. Never had the time for that before. What do you think about some sand between our toes? Maybe even skinny-dipping with enough margaritas?”

“You do look extremely hot in those aviators of yours,” Cas replied in a thoughtful voice, as if mulling it over. “And skinny-dipping does sound promising. A beach vacation certainly belongs on that list.”

“Cas, if you want me naked and in sunglasses, that can be arranged anytime, anywhere.”

“I want you in those cut-off shorts of yours, and then I want you out of them,” Cas continued in a low voice, and Dean felt the hairs on his arm stand up under Castiel’s fingertips. “I want to explore your sun-kissed skin and count the freckles on your back. I want you to enjoy yourself in all the ways that appeal to you, so yes. You’re writing that down. I’m taking you to the beach.”

“Just like that?” Dean asked, teasingly. “Pretty goal-oriented, aren’t you?”

Cas glared at him; Christmas lights caught in his dark blue eyes. “I was a Seraph, Dean. Goal-oriented was in the job description.”

“Bossy,” Dean suggestively wiggled his eyebrows.

“You like that.”

“Touché.”

Cas turned on his side, facing Dean. They were lying so close now they breathed the same air, noses just shy of touching. Dean took Cas’s hand and laced their fingers, nudging a knee between Cas’s thighs. “What else is on your list?” Dean asked.

Cas didn’t answer right away, and Dean closed his eyes to bask in the warmth of their bodies.

“There’s a small plot of land behind the bunker,” Cas began, “I was wondering whether it’s okay with you and Sam if I make a garden there?” He sounded uncertain, for some unknown reason, and Dean frowned at that. “It wouldn’t be anything fancy, just some flowerbeds with sunflowers or maybe lavender-“

“Cas,” Dean interjected, still frowning, “why would you even ask? You don’t need anyone’s permission to do what you want to do, come on. The bunker belongs to you just as much it does to me or Sammy or Eileen or the rest of our extended family.” He propped himself up on one elbow and gently freed his hand from Castiel’s hold to cup his cheek. “If you want a garden, I’ll help you make one. Or just as happily will mind my own business if it’s something you want to do on your own. Okay?”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas whispered, earnestly. And it wasn’t about the garden, really. It was about being reassured he belonged, was wanted. Accepted.

“You should definitely add the garden to your list, Cas. And, while we’re on the topic, there was actually something I wanted to ask you about.” Dean cleared his throat, his heart rate quickened. He’d been thinking about this for quite a while, but never seemed to find the right moment to broach the topic. Frankly, he’d never felt brave enough to do so. Why mess up a good thing? But the idea lived in his head rent free, and there was no lying to himself, no tricking his mind out of it. “What would you say about a real garden, though?  With an apple tree, some benches, maybe even a gazebo? Where you can plant all kinds of flowers to appease those honeybees of yours?”

“That- That sounds lovely, Dean,” Cas replied, obviously a little bit at a loss. “What do you have in mind?”

Dean was grateful it was dark in the room because he could feel himself blushing, chest burning as if someone had put a hot iron on it. He took a deep breath that didn’t do much to lessen the anxiety.

“Remember, back in Sioux Falls, Bobby’s old property?” Dean paused, waiting for Castiel to nod in agreement. “So, it’s all still there. It’s a pretty big plot of land, and the house burned down, obviously, but I was thinking,” the words kept jumping one in front of the other, and Dean felt the blush deepen, desperately hoping Cas would understand what he was trying to say. “I ain’t that bad at rebuilding things, and, of course, it’s gonna be quite a lot of work, but who doesn’t like a fixer-upper, right? There’s the salvage yard, too, we can do something with that. I’m sure Bobby wouldn’t mind, and there shouldn’t be any problems with the documents, given who’s the sheriff in town. And that way you and I get to be closer to Claire, and Donna, the whole gang-“

“You and I?” Cas asked quietly, and Dean took a deep breath, grateful for the interjection.

“You and I. And some bees, apparently,” Dean gave Cas a weak smile, searching his eyes.

Green met blue, and for the better part of a minute (eternity, really) Cas just kept looking at him silently. Dean’s heart was hammering in his chest so loudly, he wondered if maybe he just couldn’t hear Cas’s answer because of the pounding in his ears. But Castiel’s lips didn’t move, and Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he needed to get out before he went into a full-blown panic attack. It was too much. Why would Cas want to leave the bunker? It was way safer there. There were other people, hunters, coming and going, Sam and Eileen lived barely an hour away, why would he even consider moving in with Dean, let alone-

Suddenly, Cas was on Dean, left hand on Dean’s pillow for support, right hand cupping Dean’s face. Cas pressed kisses everywhere, holding on to Dean like it was the last thing on Earth worth doing. Cas moved his hand into Dean’s hair, gripping tight, and Dean moaned, capturing Cas’s mouth with his own, deepening the kiss. Dean’s anxiety turned into exhilaration, because that was very clearly a yes, and somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered if maybe he’d just suffered a mild heart attack. In mere seconds, though, his body went pliant under Cas’s weight, the kiss grew even more urgent and heated. Dean’s brain short-circuited, the only thing that registered was the press of Cas’s groin to his own, the sounds Cas was making, the texture of his tongue, the softness of his palms, his smell, his taste, the overwhelming need to be closer, to become one, to forget there ever was an outside world at all. But as Dean slipped his hands under Cas’s T-shirt, Cas groaned and broke the kiss, panting. He pressed his forehead to Dean’s, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

“I believe we’ve gotten carried away,” Cas said, hoarsely. “We still have to finish the lists before Sam leaves for Eileen’s.”

“Screw Sam,” Dean rasped, “I don’t care, just take off your clothes and keep kissing me senseless.”

Cas growled and bit his lip to keep himself from grinding.

“There will be no screwing Sam,” he said in a low voice. “We finish the lists, give Sam the envelope, bid him goodnight,” Cas took a deep breath, his body looming over Dean. “And then we pick up right where we left off.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean whined.

“Patience, Dean,” Cas pressed a kiss behind his ear, where he knew Dean was especially sensitive. “All in due time.”

With that, Castiel got up, went to click his bedside lamp on, fluffed his pillow, propped it against the headboard, and took the writing supplies from the nightstand. When he got back on the bed, he made sure to leave a few inches of space between them.

Dean groaned. “Fuck my life,” he muttered, but took a couple of deep breaths, willing his heart rate to friggin’ slow down already.  He sat up and reached to switch on the lamp on his side of the bed. He watched Cas for a moment before clarifying, “Yes to the house, though?”

Cas looked at him, pen pausing in the middle of a sentence. “I love you, Dean. Yes to the house.”

Dean grinned. “So, two down, one to go. Item number three for 2021?”

Castiel chewed on the cap, thoughtfully. “This one is less specific, but I’d like to try things I haven’t tried before. Unusual food, new experiences, all kinds of activities – with you.”

“Cas, I swear, if you hadn’t stopped just now, I’d have given you a thing or two to cross out from that bucket list,” Dean smiled, cockily.

Cas grinned. “I should think so.”

“Just say the word,” Dean winked, “and we can go baptize the library.”

“Noted. Let’s just not traumatize your brother any further.”

“He’ll live.”

Cas sighed, a mix of fondness and exasperation. “We’ll get back to this conversation as soon as we’re finished with the task at hand. What’s your item number three for the list?”

“Well,” Dean sat up straighter to get himself into business mode, “I’d love to spend more time with family. Get to know them better, maybe set up some family traditions? I don’t know if everyone will appreciate the idea, but it would be kinda awesome.” He glanced at the framed photos proudly sitting on his shelf.

“I think it’s a wonderful thing to put on your list,” Castiel reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “and I don’t have a shadow of a doubt, everyone will be thrilled.”

“They’d better be. Otherwise, they’ll be missing out on the greatest feasts humanity’s ever known.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed easily, “among other things.”

Dean smiled and reached for his own supplies.

For the next five minutes the only sound that filled the room was rustling of paper. Having finished writing, Dean clicked his pen off. “So, what’s with the bonus task? The one where we describe where we see ourselves this time next year?”

Cas bent the card he was writing on in half and slid it into the envelope. “We’re not supposed to discuss it, but, seeing that we will be exchanging our predictions next year, I figure we just address it to each other?”

“Let’s do that,” Dean nodded. “So, no consulting, huh?”

Castiel hummed. “If we were to respect the rules. You know, though, my prediction doesn’t make much of a secret,” he shrugged, smiling. “This time next year, and all the years to come, I see myself watching a Christmas movie with you. I can’t keep up with the plot, really, because mostly I’m watching you watching the movie, watching you smile, listening to you laugh. And I am overwhelmed by how grateful I am for everything that has led me there, in that moment. I’m happy. I’m with you.”

Dean’s throat felt tight and his eyes started prickling with tears somewhere between ‘all the years to come’ and ‘watching you watching the movie’. Cas was looking at him with such adoration, reverence even, blue eyes glistening, pen and paper forgotten.

“Yeah,” Dean said, wrapping Cas in a bear hug. “Yeah.” He hid his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck and felt an awkward kiss being pressed to the side of his head. “You’re such a sap, man,” he breathed a somewhat wet laugh. “You’re such a sap, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Cas mumbled, “I know.”

“You should still put all of that in writing. You know, for posterity.”

“I will. Will you write yours?”

Dean withdrew a little to give Cas a kiss on the cheek. “I will. But I’m gonna need you to bear with me, ‘cause for once in my life I would actually like to stick to the rules.” He caught Cas’s eyes, “Is that okay with you?” he asked, with a hint of a mischievous smile.

“Of course, Dean.”

“Good. Good.” Dean grinned. “And Cas? I love you, too.”

***

Eileen was supposed to pick him up in about an hour, so Sam sat at his desk browsing true crime documentaries on Netflix when Dean burst in his room without knocking.

“Would you appreciate it if I barged into your room like that?” Sam asked flatly, not looking up from the screen.

“We both know that’s an empty threat,” Dean replied without missing a beat. “Not with those delicate sensibilities of yours.”  He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Sam bristled, “You guys were doing it against the kitchen sink! A man should expect the kitchen to be a safe space!”

“Yes, yes,” Dean nodded vigorously, “he should. But it’s still ill-advised.”

Sam closed the lid of his laptop with a click . “Please, tell me you’ve got the envelope and I can go see my girl and bring home the victory of getting you and Cas to participate?”

“Sure thing, Sammy,” Dean dropped the envelope in question on the desk. “Take good care of that for us,” he winked at his brother mischievously. “Cas has already stashed yours in some dusty old book. And hey,” he added in a more serious voice, “tell Eileen thank you?”

“Wait, really?” Sam started, but Dean was already out in the hall.

“Can’t talk, gotta run, Cas says he wants to try new things, and believe me, Sammy, I am gonna deliver!”

“TMI, jerk!” Sam yelled after him, leaning his chair back on two legs to try and catch sight of his older brother.

“Drive safe, bitch!” Dean yelled back from down the hall.

Sam sighed and picked up the blue envelope titled Dean & Cas: 2021 Edition in Castiel’s neat handwriting. The envelope wasn’t sealed properly, and as soon as Sam turned it over in his hands the contents slipped out onto the desk.

“You’re so whipped, Dean,” Sam muttered under his breath picking up the papers. One of the cards fell onto the floor, and as Sam leaned to pick it up, he recognized Dean’s handwriting. Not his finest hour, he would figure later, but the eyes started skimming the text before the brain could actually approve the action.

Hey, Cas. So, we’re talking this time next year, huh? Let’s see. I’m most probably sitting on the couch with you, and we’re in the middle of binge-watching one of those shows you like or watching a documentary. I can’t really tell, because I’m having trouble focusing on what’s going on on the screen. The reason probably being that I have this ring in my pocket, and I keep thinking I should come up with more fitting words. I keep overanalyzing things, wondering if this is even something you might want. And then, we open the envelope, and I’m giving you this little piece of paper, and you start reading it. And I- I can see you frowning in concentration, and it’s been a year since I wrote this, and I still haven’t found the words, because really there are no words to even begin to describe what we have. So- So I take your hand, I kiss your knuckles, and I slip the ring on your finger, and I hope-

Man, I hope I get to spend the rest of my life with you.

With a dopey smile, Sam slipped the card back into the envelope, sealing it carefully. “So whipped,” he repeated quietly, but proudly. 2021 was going to be one for the books.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 3

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

Word Count: Ch 3 - 1637

In case you missed it: Chapter 2 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 3

One month is not enough time to get used to nights in the bunker, she thinks as she stares at the back of Dean’s door. It’s too sterile, too unnatural, with the quiet permeating every crevice and recess.

There must be some sort of muffling spell or noise cancellation technology… or maybe just really good insulation. She’s used to the chatter of customers, the ding of the door chime, the clatter of plates, and the sloshing of the dishwasher. She’s never had to listen to herself think this much before, and she freely admits she is not a fan.

It’s been about four hours since Dean stormed out. “I’m done,” he said, but she doubts she’ll have to wait much longer. Those last words he shouted before Castiel came in, the way he gripped her and she had to force herself not to cling right back, tells her they aren’t finished, either with their argument or each other.

Muffled footsteps, the only sound besides her heart beat and non-stop internal monologue, let her know moments before the doorknob turns that Dean is back. The door swings open, not with the angry force she’s expecting, but with the same weary resignation that bows his shoulders as he steps into his room and shrugs off his jacket.

His eyes meet hers for an eternity, then he deliberately takes two more steps forward and closes the door firmly behind him.

She’s in his arms without a moment’s hesitation, her mouth on his, devouring him with every bit of desperation she possesses. He tastes of scotch, and she can picture him sitting despondently at the local watering hole, glaring balefully at a single glass of liquor for hours.

His arms constrict automatically until she’s equally breathless from his embrace as she is from the kiss. Just when she thinks he may have to physically hold her up, Dean pulls away just far enough to stare hard into her eyes, his expression daring her to challenge his next words.

“We are not done talking. You are going to tell me every detail of your deal, whether you like it or not. And don’t think for a second I’m going to let you go through with it. Choices be damned, Andy, this isn’t just about you anymore, and you know it.”

She refrains from telling him how much of a dad vibe he’s giving off as she shoves his flannel from his shoulders and pulls his face back to hers, clenching a handful of his t-shirt in a death grip.

Neither of them is gentle as they remove clothing and stagger their way to his bed; she knows they don’t have the time to be, and he suspects as much but doesn’t say so aloud. Neither is willing to ruin their precious remaining moments together by bringing up something as distasteful as reality. Nails score flesh, fingers bruise limbs, even their lips come away with faint traces of blood from accidental clashes with teeth.

“How long?” he rasps, his lips ghosting over her sternum. Her nails dredge shallow furrows across the backs of his thighs as he pulls back before thrusting hard, driving her into his mattress. “How long have we got?”

She tugs his mouth down to her breast, hissing as his teeth scrape and tug. Her fingers thread into his hair, holding him in place, silently willing him to let the subject go. She can’t answer him. She’s had a month with him, and while she’d rather have something closer to a lifetime, all she’s asking now is two more uninterrupted, untainted hours.

If she tells him, then the shortness of their time becomes real, everything becomes devastatingly real. Here in the bunker that is far too quiet for her own peace of mind, she can pretend the outside world and all it’s insane occultists and apocalypses and demons and deals don’t exist. She can pretend it’s just her and Dean, and nothing else bad is waiting on the other side of the horizon.

And he’d try to stop her. And probably succeed. So, no. She can’t tell him.

It’s some time before both of them are sated enough to lie relatively still. She keeps her back to him, knowing if she looks in his eyes she is liable to spill every bit of information she has left, and she does not want a repeat of the scene from earlier. Once was more than enough.

“I’m waiting, Andy.”

We all have to learn to live with disappointment, hun, she thinks. Aloud, she sighs and pushes herself back until her shoulder blades press against his chest. She’s been cold since they first brought her to the bunker, and his warmth is almost enough to make her forget that she’s chilled to her marrow. She shivers, forcing a partition up in her mind to keep out thoughts of her impending departure. She’s going to wait until he’s asleep, then head out to make the last rendezvous.

Sunrise, Dean, she thinks, despite her best efforts. I’ve got til sunrise. We’ve got less than that.

Luckily, she’s had enough caffeine to give a draft horse the shakes, and he’s running on three hours sleep for the last couple of days, so he should pass out pretty soon. The last thing she needs is the infamous Winchester Interference with her plans.

With the confidence that comes from knowing she’s right at the end of everything, Andy rolls over and pulls Dean’s head down so his cheek rests between her breasts, cradling him like a child and stroking his hair just as she’s longed to do since he strolled into her diner and winked at her over a stack of pancakes. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t even pretend to resist, instead nuzzling deeper in her embrace, and that’s when she really knows she’s wounded him far more deeply than she should have been capable.

“It was only supposed to be a fling,” she remarks to the top of his head as she runs her nails over the base of his skull. He shivers, pulling the blanket over them up to his chin and sliding his arms around her waist. His shoulder lies on her stomach, its weight sitting comfortably against her belly. “The first time I met you, you declared your love for me because I brought you bacon, for God’s sake. At four in the afternoon. You were supposed to be a good time, Dean, one good night, and then ride on out of town like a good boy.”

“You’d already be dead if you hadn’t given me your number,” he points out. For once, his lascivious nature is dormant, and he doesn’t so much as sneak a stray lick or grope, despite his optimal position. She strokes her thumb down the side of his jaw, scrubbing over several days’ worth of stubble that covers his cheeks. He turns his face into her touch, sliding his nose against the sensitive skin under her breast, and then it’s her turn to shiver.

“Andy, before you do anything stupid, anything else stupid, I need to tell you...I need you to know that I...”

“No, you don’t,” she chides, cutting him off before he can choke out any more ill-advised words. She can’t hear them right now, they would break down every barrier and barricade she’s constructed to hold herself together for these last hours. And, anyway, he can’t possibly mean them. They barely know each other. “But you could. I think both of us might have, eventually. So, we have that, at least.”

Her ribs creak at the sudden tightening of his grip, and she squirms until he relents enough to allow her breathing to return to normal.

“It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

His words end on something that she would never in a thousand years tell him sounds like a crack. She silently strokes the velvety hairs on the back of his neck, waiting for him to finish clearing his throat.

“Don’t try to be the hero; it never works out for anyone involved, even the people you’re trying to save.”

“Don’t start with me, Dean Winchester. Here we are, having a nice moment, and I will not let you ruin the time we have left with arbitrary things like depth and honesty.”

The air system hisses soothingly in the background, but she won’t let herself be soothed. This time left is for him, she’s not fooling herself about that any longer. What does she have left but Dean, anyway? She’s got three, four hours left at the most, and this is how she chooses to spend them.

She rolls once more, pulling Dean underneath her until she lies atop him, flush from collarbone to ankles. He watches her, his face soft and open for once, golden and warm in the dim light of the little bedside lamp. His hands move slowly, reverently, to glide over the curve of her jaw and mouth, and she can feel the faint tremors that run through his hands. She kisses his fingers one at a time before lifting her eyes to his.

“No, you don’t,” she repeats, “But you could.” The world needs the Winchesters around a hell of a lot more than it needs her. And while she might make people happy, saving people and hunting things is the Winchesters’ family business. This is her only chance to make sure they and the world stick around long enough for that to keep happening. ...

Chapter 4

[thiscastielhasflown]

day three of day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: movie night or baking dean just wants to watch brokeback mountain in peace and cas is there to enjoy the emotional roller coaster ride. (2.1k) [does contain spoilers of the movie's plot, you have been warned]

"Okay choose — Midnight Cowboy or Brokeback Mountain?"

Cas looks directly at Dean who is standing in front of him holding two DVDs and smiling wide with eagerness. To celebrate and commemorate their first Pride Month official out together, both collectively decided to watch a different LGBTQ+ themed movie every night during June (if at all possible).

Rather than the Winchester/Leahy family's normal Tuesday night movie routine, Sam and Eileen were more than willing to change up their usual viewing schedule — even helping to prepare and order movies unavailable to be streamed. But sadly this night coincided with their short weekend getaway trip up to Donna's cabin for a needed change in scenery from the bleak walls of the bunker. No matter how good the movie choice was going to be for those nights, nothing compares to either couple getting some alone time together.

Cas and Dean are left alone to watch a movie in the newly renovated 'Dean Cave' — now including a larger sectional couch (to fit everyone more comfortably), an LED monogrammed neon light of Dean's nickname from Cas, 'Titan', along with new pictures hung up from a recent family photoshoot, and a new stereo sound system all set up by Dean earlier that day.

While Dean was busy with that, Cas was in the kitchen trying out a homemade sourdough pretzel dough recipe — made with his own fermented starter — along with a batch of double-chocolate chunk brownies with lines of caramel crisscrossing across the top as their movie viewing snack for the night.

"I thought we were watching the Trixie Mattel documentary."

"I know we agreed on that, but I'm more into a gay cowboy sort of mood tonight. You feel me?"

Cas blinks, "I haven't felt you yet."

"Cas, it's a figure of speech. Stay on track. Which one do you want to watch?"

"Isn't Trixie a gay Western icon as anyway?"

Dean hesitates, "Well, I would say not exactly. Maybe because of her music style and love for Dolly—"

"Parton, we've listened to her music before," Cas interrupts.

Dean smiles, "Yes we have. We've listened to Trixie too. So I guess it depends on who you ask if they’d categorize her as a modern gay Western icon in the drag business. We're sidetracked, please just pick one."

"Okay, sorry. How about the one with the happier ending."

Dean pauses to think, "I don't think either end up happy."

"Then the one where someone doesn't die."

Dean pauses again, "I...do believe someone dies in both of them."

"Then what are the differences?"

"To be honest, there really aren't that many," Dean laughs it off, "They both take place within the same 1960s setting, even though Brokeback was made in 2004. There are two main male characters in both, who aren't close in the beginning but end up so by the end. Um. The biggest difference is that Brokeback actually takes place in Western-type locations, where Midnight Cowboy setting is in New York. Is any of this helping in your decision process?"

"To be honest, not really," Cas stands up from the couch and adjusts his shirt, "Well, you go ahead and make the final decision, okay? Let me go grab the pretzels and brownies from the kitchen while you get it set up. Want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Can you bring extra cheese sauce too?" Dean answers.

"Of course, nacho or cheddar?"

A sparkle glazes over Dean's eyes as he looks at Cas, a smirk making its way across his lips, "How about both?"

"Sure can," Cas leans in to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, brushing his hand up against the other man's shoulder, "Be right back."

Dean watches Cas walk out of the room with a smug look on his face, admiring his love before bending down in front of the TV console and turning on the DVD player to give it time to boot up. He looks back and forth between either movie case, still unable to pick one over the other. Sighing, he ends up picking Brokeback Mountain, knowing deep down that Cas would most likely end up enjoy watching it more.

As he stands back up holding the DVD player remote in his hand, he hears the sound of Cas walking down in the hallway near the mancave’s door. They've been together so long at this point, but even the slightest presence of Cas will still make a butterfly giddiness erupt inside of Dean.

"Right on time as always," Dean puts down the remote after pushing 'play', grabbing the plate and beer held out to him by Cas.

He holds it up to his nose and breathes in the mingling smells of delicious food, "You really outdid yourself on this one."

Cas blushes from the compliment before pulling his own plate closer to him, breaking off a piece of the brownie and slipping it into his mouth, "Glad to know you approve."

Dean winks and takes a bite of his own, letting out a tiny moan of satisfaction from the taste, "Did you put sea salt in this?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, it was one of my secret ingredients I added in. Thought it would go well with the caramel."

"Your intuition was right, this is delicious," Dean takes another large bite and lets the flavors melt over his tongue.

At this point in the movie, Jack and Ennis sit at the bar drinking together, getting the chance to have the last bit of freedom before heading up to the mountain to work. This reminds Dean of the many times he's shared a drink with Cas before they assumed the worst would happen, losing each other. Yet those moments have now become ones he'll never forget.

The soft touch of a hand against his face pulls Dean's eyeline from the movie, Cas reeling him into a deep kiss, their lips melding into each other creating a familiar yet comfortable feeling.

Before letting anything escalate Dean pulls back and faces his head back towards the TV, reaching up to wipe off his bottom lip softly, "Watch the movie, you're going to miss a good part."

Cas pulls away and pouts, giving him one last peck on the neck before returning fully to the boundaries of his seat.

Dean turns his head back again to Cas and reaches out for his hand, weaving their fingers together, "Hey don't do that, all I wanna do is watch the movie. We can do plenty of that later."

"Fine, fine," Cas mocks, grabbing a piece of the soft pretzel and dips it in the cheese, shoving it in his mouth with a hint of annoyance.

They manage to in silence to watch the movie a little longer before Cas speaks up again, "So...what exactly is going on?"

Dean clears his throat, "Well, Jack and Ennis got their orders to go up to the mountain to go work with the sheep and they're still trying to get used to each other. Testing out the ropes, trying to work together as a team."

"Are you sure they fall in love? They definitely don't very seem into each other at the moment."

Dean takes a sip of his beer, "Love happens in mysterious ways Cas, just like us. It is never as easy as we think, especially when two people don't really get along, to begin with."

"We got along just fine, what are you talking about?"

The only thing Dean does when he hears Cas make that statement is laugh, downing another large gulp of his beer.

Cas tilts his head, "Why are you laughing?"

"Your memory must be skewed now that you're human. Don't you remember threatening my life multiple times? Trust me, you and Uriel were a couple of dicks for the majority of that early time."

"I've changed a lot since then."

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas' hand, "We've both changed a lot. Us, being here like this, is the ending we both deserve. For them, it was much harder of a situation. Their free will isn't as fluid as the ones we take for granted."

"You're not telling me—" Cas sits back with wide eyes, trying to formulate the future plot points in his head.

"I'm not going to spoil anything from the movie, you're going to have to watch it yourself to find out yourself," Dean mimics zipping his lips and turning a key to lock it, "My lips are sealed.”

A sudden vibration erupts from Dean's back, shoving his hand into it and pulling out his phone to see Sam's picture contact picture lit up (from a drunken Halloween night dressed up in a Chewbacca costume, minus the head, with a herbal cigarette dangling between his lips), swiping to answer, "Hey Sammy, what's going on?"

"Hey-uh-hi, are you busy right now?" Sam asks in a mildly frantic tone of voice over the phone.

"Well—" Dean signals to Cas to pause the movie, "It is movie night like you know, but I can talk. Everything going okay?"

"No, yeah, everything is fine. Do you know how to treat a spider bite?"

Dean coughs slightly in surprise, "Are you telling me you already managed to get a spider bite?"

Cas, overhearing the conversation holds a hand up to his mouth to help suppress the giggling he's unable to prevent himself from doing.

"Yeah, um, neither Eileen and I can remember if it's supposed to be a cold or warm compress."

Dean shakes his head and lets out a chuckle, "Did you just drunkenly call me, to ask me, how to treat a spider bite less than 24 hours after leaving here?"

"Yes Dean, do you have the answer or not?"

"Go get some ice and makeshift ice pack. For the swelling. Any other questions?"

Sam pauses not answering right away, Dean hears the sound of rustling and clanking of ice in the background, "No that should be it. Thank you."

"Yep, you're welcome. Bye," Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else.

"I'm sorry for all of the distractions tonight Dean, I really am. I know how much you wanted to watch this movie," Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, slightly massaging at the tense muscle underneath Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

"It's fine Cas, we can stop the movie if you want. Maybe pick it back up tomorrow?"

"Why can't we continue watching it? If we have to pause again, then we pause again. Anyway, you have me interested in learning what will happen.”

“Alright, we’ll continue.”

Thankfully, no one else bothers them for the rest of the movie. Even when Cas was confused in certain sections, he reminded quiet and attentively watched, quickly becoming attached to the characters and the blossoming (and losing) love between them. When the credits begin to roll, Dean looks over to see Cas crying, tears streaming down his face, and biting on his bottom lip to possibly contain his emotions.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"The jacket...Jack was the one who took the jacket that Ennis thought he forget on the mountain. He took it and kept it for all those years. And now...with Jack gone..." Cas leans in towards Dean, who wraps his arms around his shoulder in comfort, pressing little kisses on the top of his head. He lets Cas cry, holding onto him tight.

When Cas feels ready enough to pull away, Dean reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "What’s wrong Cas?"

"It just reminds me of us. When you kept my coat, the symbolism of keeping an article of clothing when your loved one is gone. In this case—" Cas sucks in a deep breath, bottom lip quivering, "Ennis lost Jack, his soulmate. But no matter how many times you've lost me, I've always come back. I wish that could have been the same for them."

"Oh, babe..." Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, strong and supportive, "They got to share their love while they could, and even though things could have been different, that was the ending destined for the."

"Why couldn’t they have ended up together?"

"Just how their cards were played, nothing we can change about it.”

Cas sighs, rubbing away his remaining leftover tears, "This really is a goddamn bitch of a unsatisfactory situation."

Dean can't help himself from laugh out of happiness, "That was a pretty good usage of that phrase, glad to know you picked up on it."

"Oh, it's going to be my go-to now, along with 'I wish I knew how to quit you’."

"Sounds to me like you liked the movie. Well, I do have an idea," Dean stands up from the couch and reaches for Cas' hand, pulling him up to a standing position, "How about we go start something? Sound good to you?"

[moonykat]

So deancas reached 100k on AO3, as they are one of the three pairings I love with my entire heart, I think it's only natural to share my favorite fics here.

Btw, if you aren't in the spn fandom, or haven't read any of these I highly recomend to give them a try. They're amazing, could be books, and some of them don't require you to have any previous knowledge about the show.

Emojis for guidance:

😭 angst, please end this suffering. And happy/hopeful ending.

💟 fluff/humor/everything is nice.

💫 could be canon, y'know what they are canon.

🌏 Au / Not previous knowledge required

🌟 absolute favorite shdksjdkdkdjkd

💀 killed me, in the good way, but left permanent scars and haven't been able to read them again. Absolutely recomend, amazing writing, could be a book but they hurt <\3

The sawdust men by Linoresearch 😭🌏

Castiel Novak is an inmate at a labour camp. Life is brutal and no one ever gets out. Castiel’s only goal is to go unnoticed by the barbaric guards, and the violent inmates. Dean Winchester is a soldier without a purpose since the civil war ended. 

Hautley's bend by coldinthestudio 😭💀🌏 (check the tags)

[...]He's never felt this way about a bully, or anyone for that matter, before. Maybe something's wrong with him, that he could feel so attracted to someone who makes his everyday life hell. But then again, he sees the way Dean looks at him sometimes. And there's a lot more to Dean Winchester than meets the eye.

Any port in a storm by microcomets 💟💫

The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)

Then and now by komodobits 😭🌏

On Christmas Eve, 1988, Mrs. Novak's car stalled on an intersection and was hit by a truck. Her son, Castiel, was nine years old when he woke up the next day and realised that he wasn't going to have a Christmas anymore. Luckily for him, however, Mary Winchester across the road invited him over to have Christmas with them that year - and every year after. Traditions were formed, friendships were built, and Christmas would always be a time for love, even if life sometimes happened along the way.

So says the sword by komodobits 💫💫😭💀🌟🌟 (this definitely happened)

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

Ad astra - Latin; to the stars by nhixxie 💫💫😭💀🌟🌟 (and this too, this is canon all right)

One day Cas says, "Stars died for you, Dean Winchester", against ruffled hair perched atop sun kissed skin and sleepy eyes. Dean stirs, moving to spread his palms against the contour of Cas’ back, tips of fingers languidly strumming the indentations of his spine. One, two, three, four, he counts, the closest he could get to scientifically studying the anatomy of the human body. "Is this some physics crap again?" He frowns with eyes closed. Cas smiles softly. "Far from it." Dean’s fingers play at the base of his back, ninth thoracic vertebrae, Cas notes. "Then tell me all about it."

C-S-T-L by Komodobits 🌏😭😭💀💀🌟🌟🌟

(If you are not in the fandom, and want to try one pleaaaase this is the one, just holy shit it's fantastic)

LJ DCBB 2013. It’s been nineteen years since the beginning of the Last War [...] Their hope is the synthesis of Android Angeles, a series of humanoid machines designed without the capacity to feel, and thus enabling them to be the perfect super soldiers. In order to check their battle suitability, the first prototypes are sent down with a landing party of the men they will later replace, and Sergeant Dean Winchester is paired with Unit 5284-C-S-T-L for the assignment. Cas, as Dean nicknames him, is easy enough to work with - once you get past the emotional vacancy and blatant disregard for human life, that is - but as the squad's tour goes on, Dean gets to wondering whether the Android Angeles are really as unfeeling as he's been told, or if the fear of a reality in which malfunctioning prototypes will be shut down is too great for them to exist any other way.

By your ancient names by microcomets 😭💫

In the ancient days, he had no name. Not to humans, anyway.

And this, your living kiss by opal_bullets 🌏😭💟

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

Turn on the earth by microcomets 😭😭🌟🌟🌟

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run. Frigging fantastic. (Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

Ninety one whiskey (series) by komodobits 🌏😭🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟💀💀🌟🌟🌟🌟

(My all time favorite supernatural fic, it's simply incredible, the writing is phenomenal, everthing, all of it. Could very easily be a book, it has two sequels. Just, wow, I am so glad I read this. Wow. It's not an easy read though, so check the tags but wow)

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again. WW2 ETO infantry AU.

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - Supernatural-Jackles

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Jen

Age: 24

Location: Ontario, Canada

URL: @supernatural-jackles​ 

Why did you choose your URL:  I wanted a Supernatural theme for my blog when I started watching it and Jensen Ackles just happens to be my favourite on there so it became that.

What inspired you to become a writer: I’ve always enjoyed stories. I’ve loved the aspect of taking your mind to a whole other world and living in it. As I grew up and continued reading, my love for stories became stronger and stronger. I fell in love with characters and places. I wanted to always have a way to go back to those places and take other people to those places. I wanted to create stories for others to fall in love with the way I fell in love with them.

How long have you been writing:  I have been writing since I was 8 or 9.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc?  Right now, my Nintendo switch is a good friend of mine. Due to the virus, I spend a lot of my time inside when I’m not at work. I’m either writing, working, sleeping or playing switch.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom?  Since 2012

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? I am in the Harry Potter fandom, and Marvel. I don’t write for them though. I don’t feel the same way about the characters as I do with the SPN Fandom. 

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? I have been working on my novel for the last two years on and off. I just find a lot more joy in writing Supernatural fanfiction at the moment, so my soul focus has stayed on that. 

Favorite published author:  Margaret Atwood or John Green

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?:  There was this one book I read. I was about 18 at the time I believe. All The Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. A very triggering book, just so you know. I remember sitting there reading it and wondering why I’m putting myself through something so draining and daunting. The book was very upsetting and I found it didn’t tackle the issues at hand in a very tasteful and realistic way. As someone who writes fanfiction about mental health, it influenced me to be open and honest about the way reality is, but in a way that would shine more positively towards mental health struggles. I never wanted to be that person who ruined every mental health book for someone else like that author did for me. It was a negative impact, but I think it had some positive results.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc):  I enjoy all genres to be honest. It really all depends on the mood I’m in that day. It’s fun to switch it up every once in a while and enjoy the mixed emotions you get when you read or write said genre.

Favorite piece of your own writing: One and One Make Three or Just Want to Be Loved.

Most underrated fic you have written:  I might have to say More Than a Fling. It was the sequel to Summer Fling and everyone was interested in a second series. It soon went on permanent hiatus due to lack of interest.

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show:  Owe You One

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s):   @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @kaz-2y5imagines​,  @jawritter​ @mariekoukie6661​, @torn-and-frayed​

Favorite fic from another writer:  Breathe by @luci-in-trenchcoats​

Favorite character to write: Dean/Jensen

Favorite Pairing to write:  Undecided. I love reader inserts and I haven’t done many pairings other than that. I have toyed with Jensen/Reader/Danneel before and I enjoy writing them.

Least favorite character to write (and why):  Castiel. We only see so much of Cas and there aren’t as many complex layers of him so he’s harder for me to explore.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor?  @luci-in-trenchcoats

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing?   Finish everything I start, and be proud of every piece I create.

How many work-in-progress stories do you have:  Ummm probably upwards to the mid 60’s I want to say.

What are you currently working on?  I am in the very early stages of writing a Jensen x Reader Bodyguard AU series. Twisty and turny and very different from what I usually write, but still very me.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing?  I have the biggest influence on my writing for the most part. I always stick with what I want to write and what I’d love to read. That’s what gets me started on most pieces. My dear best friend who shall remain anonymous, has an influence on me as well. She mostly inspires me to write what I want to write and reminds me on a constant basis that I am doing good and to keep going with my ideas.

Best writing advice you've been given:  Don’t be afraid to get a little out of your comfort zone.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing:  Time management mostly. Deadlines are not my best friend, that’s for sure. I am often filled with a lot of self-doubt when it comes to getting things done on time. Then I wonder if it’s good enough for publishing or if I should wait.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? The research process for certain fics can be daunting. Especially if you don’t know where you need to start looking. Then fact checking, and making sure it works in the story. I have to remind myself that it will be worth it in the end. 

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why):  I am pretty open with writing most of the things I want to. Getting out of my comfort zone is something I regularly do. It’s always fun to challenge yourself into writing something you’d never think of doing. I certainly have enjoyed the things I was scared to try and it was worth it in the end.

What inspires/motivates you to write:  Any selfie/picture posted by Jensen. My best friend and the lovely people around me. @luci-in-trenchcoats is a big influence on me and she always keeps me going!

How do you deal with self doubt:  I constantly have to remind myself to get out of that headspace unless I am writing about being in that headspace. It’s a hard cycle to break. Reminding myself that what I am doing is making me happy. I’m making the rules. I’m writing this for me. I have to please myself first and that’s what matters the most. I know myself and the way I write, and that is enough. That’s what I keep on repeat in my head.

How do you deal with writer's block: Cry profusely? I’m kidding. Writer’s block for me, usually comes from something I don’t like that I have written. If it’s minor, I go back to the point where I was happy with where the story was going and delete everything after that. Give it a fresh new start and prospective. If the block is more severe, I take a break. Watch a movie and don’t stress myself about it. I get ideas anywhere, and it will come back eventually. Sometimes it’s just your brain's way of saying “hey, you need to take a break. Do that.”

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: Generally yes. I like to know where my story is going. Most of the time my outlines are more extensive rough drafts. It’s a way of processing my thoughts and writing them down so I don’t forget later. It’s a lot more fun for me to build on stories.

Do you have any weird writing habits:  I either have to sit in a silent room, or I have to listen to music. Lately it’s been more silent. It depends on the subject.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it?  I’ve received my share of hateful comments. Each one sucks, I’m not going to lie. Knowing that there is someone out there that hates the way you wrote something so much that they had to tell you isn’t nice. It kind of comes back to the self doubt thing. You have to remind yourself that this is one person’s not so kind opinion. You are the writer, you are in control of this story. This is you and you’re proud of this.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic?  Any feedback is my favourite feedback. Every heart, every “I love this”. Every “You’re my favourite.” I can’t pick a favourite. If someone can take the time out to say they’ve loved something I have written and that it meant a lot to them, then that's the best reward I can get.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be?  Keep writing everyday! You don’t see it now but the more you write, the better you get.