#I mean i was very sad when dean became an asshole

[maipareshaan]

The Dean loves kids is such a THING lol, i mean its so cute how he was with kids, its so adorbs but i don't mind how he is with Jack at all when it comes to his characterisation, not even from a 'it makes sense given the setting' thing, hmm like a lot of actual Dean stans seem to be fine with it because they like Dean's individuality more than wanting to like him, if that makes sense, and his parentification is part of it, obvs Dean mistreated Jack severely and that's beyond him having to or being told to parent but like Dean says he doesn't want to mother and that's fine.

Dean said i am not raising a satan child again and he was valid, just saying.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Dean & Cas Are In Love

A hopefully one day conclusive study of these assholes, hopefully told as briefly as I can.

[it went fuckin canon? Rendered useless in my own job. Posting these gifsets from my drafts for @mittensmorgul​ who can make better use of them than me.]

-------

I think I giffed the first 4 just because no one can resist that hug and “nice peach fuzz” boop. The raw affection while Cas stays stock still because he’s living an entirely different genre of survival horror to Dean. You know, Dean in an action RPG with one clear objective (handily these are often like, Find Wife, for a generic action guy). And Cas is in some sort of indie psychological horror where the very concept of Wifey is poison and he must resist the temptations of Save Wife to paradoxically Save Wife. 

I think Gif 5 is right after “we’re getting out of here” just to seal Dean’s pride in having accomplished his objective and heard the quest completion music. 

Then a gif of Benny cutting in because this nonsense has gone on long enough and he can see Cas is resisting all this and Dean after a minute of this conversation is wilfully blind to what is plain to Benny: Cas is resisting all this good cheer, and to Benny this is suspicious because you SHOULD only want to get out of Purgatory. Benny is being used here to show the absolute blinders Dean has on when it comes to Cas: to have a straight guy to the dynamic (ironically) simply to display that Dean is NOT on a simple emotional level here, and if he wasn’t already proving to be compromised over Cas in getting here, now they’ve arrived it’s become abundantly clear he’s on a whole other level with Cas to Benny when we’re talking Brothers In Arms.

(I mean Dean has a whole subtextually gay thing with Benny too, who comes across incredibly queer and in like a sad gay movie with Dean in the Benny-centric episodes, so when I say they exemplify Brothers In Arms and Benny is the straight guy, I am talking by Supernatural standards.) 

The I Prayed To You line then drops one of the biggest bombs in all of Destiel, and in later years will be amplified by the Longing Retcon two seasons later, which implies all prayer to a specific angel doesn’t need a whole formal letterhead and stamp and mailing address carefully written on it before it can be sent, but can just be a quick drunk text from your heart with no conscious intent. Making this entire year 1000x worse from Cas’s survival horror game perspective. Even before that, of course, this was the most dramatic statement of emotional intent from Dean we’d gotten thus far and as with the “has too much heart” statement being a thesis on Cas, this became basically the tentpole evidence for Dean’s point of view on Destiel, proving how much he cared.

Cas then reveals a sliver of how rough it’s been for him, and shattered Dean’s bubble with the explanation of where he went on arrival in Purgatory and why. That it was another self-sacrificial gambit, and a forbidden star-crossed lovers type thing of Cas being near Dean would doom him simply by proximity. Nom nom nom tropes.  

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Soldier Boy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader spends the day with Dean getting to know him some more when she catches him in a lie and discovers one of his most dark secrets...

Masterlist

Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“So how old are you, Solider Boy?” you asked the next day as you walked around the park. 

“Thirty,” he said with a smirk.

“Solider Boy’s been around since the second world war. So. How old are you really?” you asked.

“I was eighteen when I was injected. I’ve aged very slowly. I do age, but it’s slow. They...I shouldn’t talk about this stuff,” he said, kicking at the ground with his boot. “Ah, fuck it, it’s in the news anyways.”

“The compound V?” you asked and he nodded.

“First successful try right here. I was still going through puberty so it took,” he said. “I guess. The science is very complicated they said. They just said you want to serve your country and I signed up.”

“What year were you born?”

“January 24th, 1926,” he said. You paused and he chuckled. “I know some women aren’t into older men.”

“I must seem like a child to you,” you said, walking again and crossing your arms.

“You’re twenty nine. I’m thirty. What’s such a big deal about that?” he smiled.

“You’re sweet,” you said. You dropped your hands by your sides, Dean taking one of them in his. “Old man ain’t wasting his time.”

“Keep it up, kiddo,” he laughed. You laced your fingers together with his hand and smiled as you looked at him. A flannel and t shirt. Jeans and boots. A baseball cap on his head. He looked so ordinary and yet he was the first superhero in existence. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I ever had a family.”

“A bit. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you said. 

“No, I want to. I don’t talk to anyone anymore. Aside from the people at Vought to try and get in The Seven but that’s like beating a dead horse at this point,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently I’m too similar in the market sector as Homelander. Go ‘merica and color scheme and that shit. I didn’t ask to be the leader or anything. I just...want to get off the kiddie squad, go do real shit out there, help people, not the stupid stuff I do now.”

“Maybe that’s why you don’t fit on The Seven. You want to help people, you don’t care about the photo op,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he said. “But to answer your other question you didn’t ask, no, I never had a family. I had parents and a brother but they’ve all passed away. All my friends are gone. It never seemed right to love a girl and have a family and watch them all grow old and...honestly I didn’t want to watch my children grow older than me and die. I can’t imagine anything worse than outliving them.”

“You’re a good man, Dean.”

“I had the occasional acquaintance, don’t get me wrong. But it was always casual, no titles, nothing formal.”

“Is this casual?” you asked. He shook his head and you bumped his shoulder. “What’s different this time?”

“A chemical made me this way. Maybe a chemical can unmake me this way. We are so advanced now compared to back then. Maybe I can age normally with some other combination. Maybe I’m stuck like this forever. I just know that the numb pit inside of me woke the fuck up when I met you and it has been quiet for a very, very long time.”

“My mom’s quiet a bit older than my dad. Age gaps don’t scare me,” you said. He chuckled and you held onto his arm. “You don’t sparkle like the twilight guy though right?”

“Oh my God, no,” he laughed. “No sparkles here. I do make sparks when bullets bounce off of me though.”

“Well now you’re just bragging,” you said. You rested your head on his arm, thinking back to a movie you used to watch as a kid, Solider Boy the lead in the thing. “Dean.”

“Hm?”

“Why did you just lie about not having a family?” you asked, pulling away from him. You knew you could have let it go, should have let it go for the sake of the mission but damn you were pissed off at him for lying to you. You crossed your arms and he frowned, going over to a nearby bench. You sat down next to him, Solider Boy rubbing his hands together. “You were in this movie my brother loved so I watched it all the time. He was a huge fan and he would never shut up about you. I never paid much attention but I remember. You had a wife and kids once.”

“You’re gonna leave after I tell you this part,” he said, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m gonna leave if you don’t tell me the truth right now. You will never see my face again. You promised you would not lie to me. Out with it Dean.”

“I wasn’t always a good person. It’s very...difficult to stay good when there’s so much bad around you. When there’s no consequences.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

“My son and daughter died hating me, thinking I was a monster. They died because of me. That was the breaking point for me. I walked away after that, I started over. I’d turned into this thing I didn’t recognize. I became Soldier Boy. Dean Winchester...he died back in that war. Not until the nineties did I realize what had happened to me. So I left. Went away from the world. Brought Dean back to life and Soldier Boy came back but different. Good this time. Greed, corruption. It’s not happening this time. Then you said...you made that comment about me being naive, that I’d turn eventually into an asshole supe like the rest of them. I’m terrified of that happening to me again. Maybe that’s why I like you, cause you’ll remind me not to be a monster again.”

“Why do you call yourself a monster?” you asked quietly.

“The first time I killed someone, I was mortified. The last time I did it, I laughed. It made me happy. I hurt him before I did it even. I stopped caring about people. My wife wanted a divorce. I thought she was hot, she fit my image. I told her I didn’t want one so she took some pills and told me she’d rather die than live with the devil. My kids were young adults, late twenties. I snapped at them when they blamed me for their mother’s death. My son hit me so I pushed him and he hit his head. My daughter ran out, afraid of me and was hit by a car. They died because I didn’t want to lose my image. I wasn’t even that upset at first. I thought a widow superhero, that’ll boost my numbers.”

“If that didn’t…” you said, Dean running his hands over his thighs. “What made you change?”

“I found a drawing my daughter had made me when she was small,” he said. He took out his wallet and unfolded a laminated sheet of paper holding it out to you. It was done in crayon, a few stick figures with one of them wearing a superhero outfit and the word “daddy” written above it. “She loved me once. I ripped it away from her. I found that cleaning out the house and I realized what I’d done. I’m worse than any bad guy there ever was for doing that to them. I stopped caring. When you stop caring is when you lose those bits of your soul. They break off until there’s nothing left. I am a monster, Y/N. Nothing I ever do can make up for it and save whatever shattered pieces are in there. But I owe it to my kids to be good and stay good.”

You handed the sheet back and he tucked it away, his wallet going in his pocket as he stared out at the trees across the path. 

“I understand if you would no longer like to see or speak to me again. Or if you want to slap me in the face. That’s also acceptable,” he said.

“What year was all of this?” you asked.

“They died in ‘92. Then I ran away to Kansas, worked as a farmhand for a while,” he said. He rubbed his palm and stared down at his lap. “Just...be careful at night and try to stop walking down alleys for me, okay?”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I’m never going to see you again after you get up from this bench.”

You stood up and he let out a sigh. You took a step to your left and sat down closer to him, turning your head as Dean looked so horribly confused at you. You couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t an option. But while you knew you couldn’t walk because of the mission Butcher had you on, you didn’t want to. There was so much self-hate inside of Dean he hid well and part of you ached that he considered himself sub-human.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Dean. What happened to your family was horrible but they were accidents. Your daughter, your son. Your wife, did she even let it sink in for you before she did that? If I was married to someone and they suddenly asked for a divorce my gut reaction would probably be no too. I’m not saying you didn’t play a part but those were her actions that trickled down and affected the rest of you. Letting yourself become corrupted means you’re human. We all make fucking mistakes. Yours are a little big, I admit that. But you try to make up for it. All you can do after the fact is try and you’re doing that. There’s a soul in there Dean. If there wasn’t this wouldn’t be eating you alive. Cut yourself a break. I gotta process everything you said but I’m not walking away. Promise you will never lie to me again and I can promise you that I won’t judge you, no matter what you’ve done.”

“I’ve been around 95 years and I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “That’s a good thing. I will never lie to you again. I swear. I’m sorry. I was...frightened of telling you who I was deep down. I like you. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time and I don’t want it to go away just yet.”

“It’s okay that you were scared. Maybe on our third date we can have a less intense conversation. We can talk about how you’re older than sliced bread,” you teased. 

“You youngin’s don’t know how good you got it,” he chuckled. You took his hand into your lap and he smiled. “Not a monster to you?”

“No. Just be a good guy and I’ll be happy,” you said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, Dean looking you up and down.

“I wish I knew you when I was a dumb kid that let them shove that stuff in me. I never would have said yes if I had a girl back home.”

“Well, from now on, maybe just ask if you think I’d be proud of what you were doing. If the anwer’s no, maybe don’t do it,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep that one,” he said. “Also did you subtly drop that I’m getting another date despite all of that?”

“You told me the truth, even though it was hard. That’s why I like you too,” you said. “Plus you’re really old so you must have like, sex down to perfection by this point.”

“Gonna blow your fucking mind,” he teased. “Eventually. I know things are different nowadays but…you’re special. You’re not a hookup.”

“When you’re ready, you let me know and we’ll go from there, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a hug, Dean hesitant at first but he quickly relaxed into it. “You alright?”

“Been a long time since I had a hug is all.”

“You need one, just come to me,” you said. You sat back and he smiled. “So. Let’s go do something fun. You look like you could use it.”

“Night,” murmured Dean as he kissed you at your doorstep that evening.

“Night,” you said, not moving away from him just yet. His ears perked up and he forced himself away. “Trouble?”

“Yeah. Nothing major. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Bye Dean,” you said, watching him take off running far faster than any human man could. You smiled as you locked up, a loud thud coming from your kitchen. You unlocked the door and looked around. “Hello?”

“For such a nice house you have an incredibly small kitchen,” said Butcher as he walked out with the bottle of your nicest bourbon.

“Oh come on, that was a housewarming present,” you said.

“I swipe you some more,” he said, taking a long swig. “How’s it going?”

“Good. We got close today but Butcher you seriously can not come back here again. Dean was this close to coming inside tonight.”

“Dean. I thought he was Solider Boy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You want to wind up like his last broad did? You give him the puppy dog eyes and then we make a move,” he said.

“I’m starting to think we might get further with sugar over spice. Billy he wants to make up for his past. If he gets into The Seven he could be a serious asset.”

“Are you going soft on me?” he asked, an edge in his voice. 

“Let me work him the way I know best. Trust me,” you said.

“Don’t forget what this is for. You call when you’re ready,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”

He left out the back and you sighed, running your hands over your face. Sure, Dean had done some bad things in the past but who hadn’t? He wasn’t playing you, he had no reason to. The part of you that wanted revenge was still there but he didn’t cause your brother to die, not really. He was simply a prime target at the moment.

You swallowed and went to the kitchen, taking the bottle of alcohol to the family room. You sat on the couch and took a swig, letting it burn your throat.

You didn’t want him to get hurt. You liked him. A lot. Maybe you could convince him to go away, be someplace safer. Your head turned when you got a text, the alert saying it was from Dean and him asking you if you wanted to get out of the city and go hiking tomorrow.

Maybe that’d be a good time to tell him the truth. He was bound to find out eventually and if he got mad, at least you’d be the only one in danger. Billy’s voice was at the back of your head but you ignored it. He’d been angry for too long, couldn’t see the good in people anymore. Dean wasn’t what you thought he was at first. He was good deep down.

You’d tell Solider Boy the truth tomorrow and hoped you lived to see the next day.

______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[annikasafternoonread]

So. That’s The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Thoughts. I have them. This is going to be a long one, folks, so buckle in.

I guess my overall report would be... better than expected. That might sound like faint praise, but I had serious reservations coming into this book. I think a lot of people were concerned when it was first announced. And I certainly think those reactions were warranted and valid and I don’t regret them -- this book could have been a mess. 

It wasn’t. It didn’t try to rehabilitate Snow, didn’t try to make him relatable or sympathetic or misunderstood or a victim. It didn’t do any of that. Snow was a privileged, bigoted, ignorant, self-centered asshole with a superiority complex the size of a planet. Collins got that much right at least. We can see some of the forces that conspired to make him that way, but they don’t make him any less of a terrible person who did terrible things for terrible reasons.

But. That kind of character... is not the most fun to read, honestly. I don’t love spending this much time reading a book that just makes me angry. I don’t love spending this much time with a person I hate. I think I’m glad I read it, to know more what it was and to gain some interesting context about the world, but I don’t think I’d read it again. And I don’t know that I’d recommend it. If I did, it would come with some heavy caveats on there. 

So that’s my overall impression: better than expected, worth reading once and no more. On to some more specific hot takes.

So first off, Lucy Gray. I love her in a lot of ways, but she also confused me and I was a little disappointed by other aspects. She’s fun and talented and sweet, but girl what the fuck do you see in Snow he’s a shithead I mean less of a shithead to you, at least compared to the rest of the Capitol, and he did sort of save her life so like Florence Nightingale Syndrome or whatever, but ugh. Gross. I really really really wanted her to be playing him. And I’m not entirely sure she’s not.

As she says when talking about Billy Taupe being a possessive jealous asshole, flirting with people is part of the job description when you’re a performer and entertainer. It’s what she does. It’s what she’s always done. It’s what’s kept her alive for years, being charming and sweet and desirable and making people love her. And now in the Games, she’s relying on Snow to keep her alive. So the more he wants to keep her alive, the better. And if he’s in love with her, and thinks that she’s in love with him, then he’ll be very invested in keeping her alive. As Snow notes at the end, she killed quite a few people, in ways that could have been self-preservation or happenstance or mercy, but could also have been calculated as fuck. It’s hard to say.

I can’t tell you how much I hoped that she’d be cool towards him after the Games, that it would have been all for show and Snow would run back to the barracks with his tail between his legs. She didn’t, which is a big part of why I don’t think she was playing him. Her joy, her kisses, her invitations to spend time together, her song, it doesn’t seem like a lie. But on the other hand, maybe thumbing her nose at a Peacekeeper and Capitol high muckity-muck wouldn’t have been a smart move. Maybe having a Peacekeeper on your side, and someone with Capitol connections, would have been very handy. After all, he kept bringing them ice and baked goods and such. If they could keep him close, he might stand up for them if the Peacekeepers wanted to ban them (which they eventually did a few months later, so the Covey probably knew it was a possibility). He might or warn them if something bad was coming. 

The thing that swung me back to “maybe” is how fast she went from “let’s run away to the woods together and be free” to “I’m gonna sic a snake on this motherfucker.” Like, yes he deserved that, but he always deserved it. That’s a hell of a swing for a few hours. Was it just realizing he might have sold out Sejanus that swung her opinion? Was there something else instead or as well? Did that push her to make new connections, or finally tip over the pile of reservations she’d been ignoring? Maybe. But it just seems... like it might have been more than that. Like maybe she was planning to ditch him anyways, though I can’t imagine why. Idk, the theory doesn’t hold together terribly well, but neither does Lucy Gray’s infatuation with another shitty possessive abusive man. Or maybe that’s just patterns. 

The question of what happened to Lucy Gray honestly doesn’t interest me that much. I’m sure there’s plenty of speculation and opinions and headcanons about whether she returned to District 12 or escaped to the wilds or died there in the woods, but frankly I don’t care. Oh, I hope she lived, but it’s not relevant. There isn’t an answer, so I’m not terribly interested in figuring it out. 

What I do find interesting is Dean Highbottom. He’s a very ironic character, in my opinion. He tells us at the end that he thought up the Hunger Games in a class assignment “to create a punishment for one’s enemies so extreme that they would never be allowed to forget how they had wronged you.” He didn’t actually want the Hunger Games to be real or think they ever could be, and he felt terrible about even submitting the assignment (against his will). He turned to drugs when the proposal was brought forward and became real, because he was so horrified. He didn’t believe in that kind of vengeance, didn’t want to keep that hatred alive. He didn’t think that was what humanity was or should be. 

And yet. His response to Papa Snow’s betrayal in submitting an assignment about punishing innocent children for a crime they didn’t commit was to punish Snow for a crime he didn’t commit. So maybe he’s wrong about humans, or at least about himself. 

I don’t think Dr. Gaul is right about human nature being inherently evil and violent and selfish, though. Put us in the right circumstances and maybe, sure, but we don’t have to be in those circumstances. She’s so caught up in the eternal war, and obviously you can’t stop a war if you believe it’s still going. And maybe eventually if you’re not hardass there’ll be another one, but maybe there won’t! And goodness knows being hardass didn’t stop the next war! It’s impossible to say for sure that if the Capitol/all of Panem had been more fair and just and kind, the next war wouldn’t have been sooner, but it’s also impossible to say that it wouldn’t have been later, or never. That seems worth fighting for. Dr. Gaul terrifies me, obviously, but she also kind of just makes me sad. What a depressing worldview. She doesn’t see it that way, I’m sure, just sees it as a challenge and a game, but it is sad. 

The rest of my thoughts are less expansive, so let’s just bullet point them:

Propaganda works terrifyingly well. Be careful of your internalized biases and the messaging being fed to you.

The effects of pride and honour and position are wild. Snow was simultaneously crushed and elevated by them, as was Sejanus. 

Speaking of Sejanus, he deserved better. I love my son. 

The fuck was up with Clemensia? They never really resolved that. Is she actually okay? Did her skin grow back? How the hell did that happen? Could she have turned into a snake? Why was she so cutting and mean and unlike herself? Was Gaul controlling her somehow? Why did they refuse to tell her parents anything? But also how could she manage to escape from her room to sneak in on Snow? What the fuck? 

I love the full circle of a Mockingjay bringing Snow up, as Lucy Gray’s voice and fame helped him to rise and bloom, to gain Dr. Gaul’s favor and the Plinths’ money, pulling him out of his , and then a Mockingjay tearing him down, when he crossed Katniss and put her family in danger and she decided he had to die. 

This was a fucking essay, which I feel a little bad about, but I had a lot of thoughts and feelings okay? XD For anyone who actually read this whole thing, you are a saint, you deserve several cookies, I don’t have a way to give you any so here is instead a picture of my kitten using TBOSAS as a pillow.

Have a good day! See you soon for Mockingjay Part 2.

[tomhardysteeth]

u wanna say anything for spn ending? Today's their last day of filming

Yeah sure! I love how you worded this ask, it makes me want to give a very serious answer. I’ve been rewatching random episodes the past few days and thinking about how much of my life was shaped by this random lil tv show, both positively and negatively, so here we go. 

I started watching Supernatural during my junior year of college, when I was grappling with being gay and religious, and had a pseudo-girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. I remember I started watching the show because I had been on tumblr for a while and thought, well this is a popular show on tumblr and looks like something I’d enjoy, so I might as well try it. I remember barely paying attention to the first season and thinking it was kind of silly, and I distinctly remember making fun of it right up until the season 1 finale when that truck slammed into the Impala and I said oh.

I remember sitting in the dining hall between classes, hiding in a corner with my pink headphones and my laptop, watching one episode after the other, completely consumed by it. My personal life was a mess at the time and I was angry and sad and frustrated, but I could forget about everything for a little while when I watched spn. I remember falling in love with Dean Winchester, season 3, when Sam gave him the amulet. 

Because I had already spent a lot of time on tumblr, I knew about Castiel. I couldn’t wait to get to season 4, the anticipation killed me. I didn’t really have a choice in shipping destiel, I literally shipped it before I even watched a single episode of the show lol. My first time watching seasons 4 and 5, I remember how mad I would feel every time the opening credits scrolled at the bottom of the screen and Misha Collins wasn’t listed. I cared about almost nothing but Dean and Cas interacting with each other. I was totally enamored by them, by their potential. At some point I got over that and watched the show because I liked the show, but boy did my heart and brain break for destiel. 

I broke up with my abusive girlfriend. I started coming out to more people, including people involved in the Christian campus ministry I was heavily involved in, and it was very very hard. It was 2013. The first episode of Supernatural I watched live was the episode where Dean turns into a fucking dog. 

I don’t remember when I started reading fanfic, and I had no idea how to read fanfic. A friend invited me to ao3, what is ao3? I didn’t know. I used my email address as my username. I read Twist and Shout and Pie Without Plot and other very popular fics that I knew about because everybody knew about them. I vividly remember the first fics I read because I was 21 years old and had never had an orgasm in my life and believed sex was sinful and so when the sex scenes in fics turned me on, I felt guilty about it. 

I quickly got over that and started writing explicit destiel fanfic. 

I still had no idea what I was doing. I know the very first fic I ever wrote was a mess, I’ve completely erased all traces of it, but other than that I began posting with abandon. Pretty much everything I’ve ever written for spn is still on tumblr and/or ao3. I was running a Hannibal blog at the time and started posting more Supernatural content than Hannibal content, so I created a sideblog, @deancasheadcanons​, and things very quickly got out of hand after that.

I was depressed, I was confused, I was spending my last couple years of college trying to figure out my sexuality, trying to hold onto a religion that was rejecting who I was becoming, trying to find my identity while picking a career path and being sad and being pulled in a hundred different directions. Sometimes I was working three jobs at once, on top of 17-credit-hour semesters. I was getting a degree in a field I did not care about, and I spent every class reading and writing fanfic, scrolling through tumblr, making internet friends, letting my life be consumed by Supernatural. I projected myself completely onto Dean Winchester and partially onto Castiel and did not even realize it. 

I started dressing like Dean, and my sister and brother-in-law noticed and assumed I was gay. They were extremely unsubtle in their attempts at getting me to come out by pointing out the flannel and army jackets, and I did not have it in me to admit to them that I was dressing like a fictional character, but I DID tell them I was bisexual. 

I went to therapy every week during my senior year of college, and I was embarrassed about how often I talked about my “internet life,” as I called it. I remember having the arbitrary goal of getting 1,000 kudos on a fanfic, and I remember the day it happened for the first time and I remember going to therapy that week and saying that I didn’t feel any different, that I thought getting attention for my writing would make me feel better, somehow, but I still felt the same, and my therapist asked me if I would still be writing if I was the only one who got anything out of it and I said yes. But I was still obsessed with writing things that were meaningful, and despite the fact that I would receive 10 negative/mean anons per day, I never turned anon off because I desperately wanted people to tell me that my writing meant something to them, that it mattered to them. I was fighting with myself every day over my sexuality and my identity and my purpose, and I put all of that on the shoulders of Dean and Cas. 

There was also chubby!dean. I had lived my entire life with this inexplicable thing, this shame that I knew I could not share, that I knew I would just have to suffer with for my whole life, and then I joined the spn fandom and found that there were others like me, others that had a fetish and had similar experiences as I did and were drawn to Dean Winchester because there’s no other character that could make eating and gaining weight be as enticing as he makes it (in fanfic). For the first time in my life I had a community of people that I could relate to about a thing that I never thought I would ever be able to talk about with anyone in my life. I don’t remember if I consciously chose to start posting publicly about it, but at some point I did, and I started writing kink fic, but I was still so uncomfortable with myself and so scared of the things I felt, and I tried so hard to temper myself and not offend anyone and not go “too far” and not be too weird and I was so sexually repressed and pent up and full of guilt and shame, and so now when I go back and reread some of the stuff I wrote it feels like reopening an old wound and letting myself bleed out. 

I was constantly comparing myself to others and wondering why I wasn’t getting as much attention as so-and-so, and I always made excuses about how maybe my writing was too weird and I was too much and maybe I just wasn’t good enough and I hated myself and wanted to delete everything I ever wrote, but also I’m awesome and receive a lot of attention and get a lot of good feedback but maybe that means I’m just a narcissist! I acted like an asshole online and justified it by saying it wasn’t really me, that I could be someone totally different on tumblr than the person I was in “real life,” but in hindsight, now when I think back on my early 20s, I cannot separate what I was doing in “real life” from what I was doing in the spn fandom. I shared so much of myself with the spn fandom without even recognizing that that’s what I was doing. 

And I made mistakes, god I made mistakes, and I tried to be so careful about everything I said but I was also presenting a certain version of myself to the spn fandom so that people would like me (for instance: running a destiel blog and trying my best to hide the fact that I also ship wincest) and still I got in trouble constantly, and I grew bitter and mean because you can only receive the “when are you posting the next chapter?” comment so many times before you want to bang your head into a wall. I became defensive and unkind, afraid to check my inbox because it was a nightmare, and yet unable to turn off anon because, like I said, I desperately needed that feedback, I needed people to tell me that they felt what I felt, that they understood what I was writing and why I was writing it.

I expected Supernatural to give me everything I needed. I fantasized about Dean Winchester being canonically bisexual because I thought it would confirm something in me, that it would somehow make my life a little bit easier. I didn’t want to watch other shows that could maybe help me, I wanted Supernatural to do things for me that it had never promised and would never deliver, and it’s because I was defined by it for so many years. Now that I’m back on tumblr, I’ve been going back through some of my old posts on deancasheadcanons and it’s like reading a stranger’s words. Even so, I find myself telling people “I was deancasheadcanons” instead of “I ran a sideblog called deancasheadcanons” because it really was such a huge part of my identity. What’s wild is that every time I’ve tried to explain it to someone in real life, they just look at me like I’m not making any sense. 

It was easy to stop watching Supernatural. I didn’t have cable, and I had been driving to my dad and stepmom’s house each week and watching it on their tv after they had gone to bed. I was in a new relationship with a woman I nearly married, I was back in school for a new career, I was working full time and absolutely did not have time to continue writing fanfic as prolifically as I had done for so many years. I finally reached a breaking point in 2017 and haven’t watched any new episodes since then (I don’t remember the last episode I saw). But now, as I rewatch some old episodes, it is easy to feel the way I felt the first time I watched the show. It’s easy to see why this campy little heartfelt show was a lifeline during my formative adult years.

So it turns out I have never reckoned with any of this, have never written it down, hence the 2k jumble of words you see here. And it’s like, I know that a lot of this may seem silly, trivial, especially for a show that in itself is not very serious, but as it comes to an end I have to reflect on it as a person who put so much of my heart, my creativity, my pain and my floundering identity into it. I am somewhat embarrassed and wish I could respond to this ask with a joke instead, but we’re in a pandemic and I live alone and have had way too much time to think and reflect and become a lot more self-aware, and part of that reflection has definitely been about my time in the spn fandom. I remember thinking the show was never going to end, yet here we are at the end and I felt compelled to type all this out with a desire to, I don’t know, get some closure? Convince myself that I was a whole person, that I wasn’t just a faceless URL posting destiel fics into the void, that my real life was not at all disparate from the time I spent online? In any case, I’ll always think fondly of the time I devoted to Supernatural, and I’ll take the good and the bad and everything in between. Thanks for the nice ask, anon, apparently I needed to get some things off my chest.  

[nekojitachan]

For some reason I was inspired to write more of ‘The Real Thing’. No clue why....

I thought this was going to be really short, too. Ha.

We’re starting to move things along, time-wise and plot-wise. Seriously.

Last part can be found here.

*******

“So, uhm, how are things going there? I mean, outside of the games, you Ravens are on the usual winning streak and they’re already talking about you making Court with the way you’re shutting down the goal whenever you’re playing, but with classes and… uhm, well, with Nathaniel?”

If Nicky didn’t sound as if he expected Andrew to yell at him at any moment, Andrew would tell him to fuck off and hang up. However, Nicky insisted on sending him care packages (and sappy A/B/O books, which Nathaniel continued to ask him about and allowed Andrew to invent ridiculous answers in return) and checking up on him, so… so Andrew humored his cousin.

(Or something like that.)

“I should make the dean’s list this semester and Nate’s fine,” Andrew said as he fought the urge to tap his fingers against the top of his desk.

“Hmm, just fine? He’s your soulmate.”

Once again, Andrew wished that he could have slit Riko’s throat before the prick had announced to the world that Nathaniel was his soulmate, even as at the same time he felt a deeply buried hint of satisfaction over knowing that everyone referred to Nathaniel as ‘his’.

He needed a drink.

“He’s fine,” Andrew repeated. “Still breathing and has all of his limbs.” All of his very attractive, very flexible limbs.

“That’s not- oh fine.” Nicky was definitely sulking on the other end of the line. “You could be a bit more romantic about finding your other half, you know.”

“Why? He’s my other half.”

“Exactly.” Nicky’s tone softened as he spoke that word. It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Uhm, you hear from Aaron lately?”

Andrew didn’t say anything as he thought about how his twin continued to avoid him.

“Ah, yeah, okay.” Now Nicky sounded sad. “He’ll… he’ll come around. It’s difficult, not knowing where one’s soulmate is when everyone else has found theirs,” he tried to explain. “He’s feeling a bit jealous right now.”

Why would Aaron feel jealous? Andrew had moved away from California and given up any chance of a family he might have with Cass because of his brother (even if it included Drake), had gotten rid of Tilda for Aaron (who really should pay attention when making bargains), had joined the Ravens… well, partially because of the scholarship extended to Aaron (and partially because of the north star mark on his left forearm).

“It’s time for practice,” Andrew lied, unwilling to talk anymore.

“Oh, okay. Tell Nathaniel I said ‘hi’! I can’t wait to meet him, maybe during the holiday-“

Andrew hung up on his insane cousin before Nicky could go any further with that ridiculous plan, then completed his English homework. Ben had gone off to one of the study rooms to talk to his family, and returned a few minutes before the afternoon practice started (for real) with a disgruntled expression on his face.

When Andrew arched an eyebrow over the way his roommate slammed his books onto his desk, Ben huffed and shook his head. “Riko’s being even more of his ‘I’m the captain, do what I say or else’ self.” When Andrew’s drug-induced smile flattened, Ben shook his head again, that time with more vigor. “Nate wasn’t involved! He went after Jordon because of his performance this morning, and then got even angrier when Kevin tried to step in.”

As long as Nathaniel was all right. “What else is new?” Riko had become a nagging little bitch (more of a nagging little bitch) as the season progressed, as he became obsessed with ensuring that the Ravens led not only their district but the entire Class I division in points, as he excelled in both the collegiate and professional leagues.

Which meant that he became a bitter little bitch whenever he felt that he wasn’t given his due as the best striker in all of Exy, whenever someone stole his thunder (especially if it was his own partner) or if he believed that his teammates were lacking. Which meant that the Ravens had to put up with the psychotic prick’s mercurial moods.

Had Andrew said moods? More like tantrums.

At least as long as Andrew continued to either shut down the goal entirely during his time on court (not always possible) or limit the other team to one or two points, then Riko left him (and Nathaniel) alone. Well, the prick wasn’t happy when he ‘politely’ (meaning didn’t shove a knife in their ribs) reminded people to keep their fucking hands off Nathaniel, but it was still possible to play a game with a concussion or broken fingers.

Ben managed a weak chuckle at Andrew’s statement, then they left for practice; Andrew didn’t see Nathaniel or Jean in the locker room, which meant that they were already out on court. That wasn’t too much of a surprise since as part of Riko’s ‘perfect court’, they were expected to put in extra effort (to live up to the ‘perfect’ part), but it also meant that a certain prick expected more of them.

Andrew didn’t exactly run out of the locker room, but he managed a fast-paced ‘saunter’ that got him to the court before the rest of the team. He was just in time to notice a very familiar flush to his soulmate’s cheeks and gleam in those startling blue eyes as Nathaniel watched on while Riko tore into Kevin about – well, Andrew didn’t really give a shit about what, just stopping Nathaniel from getting into trouble.

“Why don’t you-“

“There’s my sweetpea!” Andrew called out right before he used his racquet as an improvised hook to draw Nathaniel towards him; Jean jumped at the loud noise then scoffed at his actions. “Got a kiss for your honeybun?”

“I’ve got a knife for your belly,” Nathaniel gritted out, yet he allowed Andrew to ‘reel’ him in. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Andrew pretended to think about the demand for a moment. “Okay, snugglewoogums.”

Behind them, Jean tried to turn a chuckle into a cough while Riko finally stopped berating Kevin. Nathaniel gave Andrew an incredibly pained look before he shook his head in defeat. “Fine, stick with the first one,” he spat as he ducked his head.

Aware of Riko’s attention on them, Andrew allowed his grin and tone to take on a salacious edge. “I told you I always get my way.” He smacked his soulmate on the ass with the handle of his racquet, well aware that he’d get an earful (and more threats about being filleted) later on, while Riko grinned in approval.

“It seems we finally found someone to tame our wild #3,” Riko taunted; for a moment, Andrew worried that it would set off his soulmate, but Nathaniel glanced over at Kevin, who had hurried to get the rest of the team ready for practice (and away from Riko), and seemed to decide to let the snide comment slide since things had settled down.

It was the usual Ravens’ practice after that (of which Andrew was So. Damn. Bored); going over the Ravens’ drills (and being caned by Tetsuji for any mistakes), followed by learning a new play or two (and being caned for not paying attention) and then a few scrimmages (and more caning for mistakes). Riko was quick to pounce on any players he felt weren’t up to the team’s demanding standards, to the point that Andrew was certain that he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the next time the asshole left for a Wildcats’ game.

As expected, Nathaniel dragged Andrew off to a table in the far corner of the dining hall after practice; no one paid any attention to him eating with his soulmate and Jean anymore, while Ben was fine having his meals with Leif and Toby (who actually said more than two words at a time to him). Jean sat with his back to the other Ravens, which helped to block any curious gazes, while Nathaniel glared as he jabbed a chopstick at the grilled tofu lying on top of his bowl of seasoned rice. “Laying it on a bit thick earlier, weren’t you?” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry very far. “Honeybun?” There was enough malice in the ‘nickname’ to choke a horse (too bad it didn’t choke Andrew and give him an excuse to skip dinner).

Andrew grunted as he contemplated flinging his own piece of tofu as far across the dining hall as possible. “Oh, did you and Valjean want to be beaten for pissing off Riko today?” It was a bit of a low blow to drag Jean into things, but the best way to prove his point.

Nathaniel appeared guilty while Jean gave him a warning look for such dirty tactics, which Andrew ignored. “He’s being a real asshole to Kevin lately for no reason.”

Other than being a jealous, insecure prick, but what else was new? “Kevin’s a big boy, let him take care of himself.”

“Kevin can’t fend for himself once off an Exy court or outside a press conference,” Nathaniel muttered, which made Jean chuckle. “But whatever,” he said when Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You done with your homework for the day?”

“Yes, you?”

Nathaniel nodded. “You… uhm, coming back to the room with us?” He kept poking at the disgusting slab of tofu while a hint of blush spread across his sharp cheekbones.

Despite the fact that Andrew basically went to Nathaniel’s room every night after dinner (unless it was a game night), he nodded and forced his attention on his own dinner while Nathaniel murmured ‘good’ and Jean looked as if he was about to get up and leave the table in disgust.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Once they reached the relative peace and safety (relative) of Nathaniel’s room, he pulled out the German language books which Nicky had sent Andrew (oh how his cousin had been delighted to know that Nathaniel had wanted to improve upon his slight knowledge of the language) so they could work on it that night; they’d taken to alternating between German and French in the last few weeks. Between Andrew’s eidetic memory and Nathaniel’s almost uncanny ability to learn languages, they were progressing rapidly between the two.

(Andrew wanted to know what the hell his soulmate and Jean were saying all the time – and to be warned by Jean if necessary – and to talk to Nathaniel privately.)

Andrew sat on Nathaniel’s bed, all too aware of how close they were to each other, as they went through the lessons that Nathaniel had worked on earlier that day and his pronunciation (which was damn good). They were in the middle of a short dialogue (asking for directions) when Nathaniel’s phone pinged, which was a rare occasion; almost everyone he knew was in the Nest, and his father certainly didn’t bother to talk to him.

Nathaniel’s brows drew together in a puzzled expression as he looked at his phone; Andrew noticed how Jean paused in reading a book to give his partner a worried glance. “I won’t be able to watch the game on Friday,” Nathaniel announced after texting back a response. “Ichirou wants me in the East Tower to translate.”

Andrew felt a wave of… of something dark and possessive and primordial slam into him as a wide smile spread across his face. “Oh, how wonderful, fun Moriyama time. Will Nathan be there to play as well?” He could easily (oh so easily) remember the bruises which had littered lovely ‘Nat’s’ face after his last father’s visit.

Nathaniel twitched at the response, which earned a muttered curse from Jean. “I… no.” Nathaniel shook his head, which caused the workbook in his lap to slip onto the bed and his dark auburn curls to flash through the air. “He doesn’t… not when Ichirou… no.”

The incoherence was a sign of how upset he was, as was the way his hands twisted in the hem of the overlarge black sweatshirt he wore; aware of how he was the cause of such disturbance, Andrew found himself reaching to thread his fingers through those mussed curls without a thought, to leaning forward until he felt his soulmate’s breath warm against his face, until he could see the flecks of pale grey swirl in those icy blue eyes….

A manic part of him urged him on to kiss his soulmate, to feel something, to take whatever he could – for a moment he almost gave into it, too. Then he noticed the naked emotion on Nathaniel’s face, the odd mix of trust and confusion, and found himself leaning back even as his hand wrapped around his soulmate’s nape.

(NathanielwasapipedreamwasmaybetooperfectforhimbutifhetookhimnowlikeTHISthenhe’ddefinitelyneverknowifadreamcouldbecomereality)

“Be certain,” Andrew said, his voice thick for some reason. “Because I feel that I’m due an introduction with your father for some reason, an introduction where I have a very sharp or heavy object in my hand which I make very familiar with him many, many times.”

His soulmate gazed at him for several seconds as if trying to make sense of the words before he gave up and rested his forehead on Andrew’s shoulder. When Andrew glanced at Jean, the French bastard shook his head. “I’m putting my money on the Butcher, not a runt like you.”

“He’s an old man,” Andrew sneered.

“An old man who’s used to fighting off overreaching fools. Up your game, Minyard.”

Andrew gave him the bird while he combed the fingers of his other hand through Nathaniel’s hair; once he realized what he was doing, he forced his hands away from his soulmate. Nathaniel blinked at the loss of contact then slowly rose from the bed. “Aah, it’s late,” he said as he walked toward the bathroom.

Jean waited until the door closed behind him and there was the sound of water running to lean forward and gaze at Andrew. “He doesn’t say much about what happens up in the Tower, but I know that Ichirou doesn’t let Nathan touch him,” he told Andrew, his deep voice quiet in the small room. “Kengo doesn’t stop the bastard at all, but Ichirou does.”

Andrew thought about that as he gathered up the German language books then placed them on Nathaniel’s desk. “Why?” Why did Ichirou protect Nathaniel?

Jean shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t think Nat does, either.”

Yet another question to add to the growing pile of them, but at least Andrew knew that Nathaniel should be safe that Friday. Should. He’d have to wait for a better answer after their game with the University of Vermont’s Catamounts.

(When he was alone, with his soulmate, without any drugs in his system….).

Except things didn’t exactly go that way – Andrew should be used to life fucking up his plans by then. After all but shutting down the goal except for one point during his time out on court, he’d dealt with the usual post-game bullshit, showered, changed and was about to head to Nathaniel’s room (well aware of the clock ticking down on his drug-free moments) when Akagi insisted that he follow the assistant coach to Tetsuji’s office.

He was ready to ignore the man, except Aaron’s name was mentioned.

Well aware that he hadn’t seen his brother in class that morning, Andrew pushed aside the urge to tell the Moriyama lackey to ‘fuck off’ (along with the growing sense of nausea) and tagged along; the rare burst of true anger helped to push back the withdrawal that sunk vicious claws into his nerves until they sizzled with an aching itch that wasn’t quite pain.

Not yet, at least.

Andrew found his twin, bleary-eyed and reeking of alcohol, standing hunched over as to make himself appear even smaller in Tetsuji’s office with some middle-aged man who turned out to be the Dean of Science. He stood there and listened while Tetsuji basically talked the man out of evicting Aaron from Edgar Allan because of the stupid prank he and his ‘friends’ had done due earlier that evening to the stabilizing effect (what a fucking joke) he had on one of the Ravens’ most promising players, and that Tetsuji was certain that he could find something to keep Aaron busy so such an incident wasn’t repeated.

From the look Tetsuji gave Andrew, he knew that such a thing better not happen again, and that he’d be paying for the ‘Master’s’ intervention.

“How could you be so stupid,” he hissed in German while the two men hashed out the details of Aaron’s new ‘work study’ position.

Aaron wavered on his feet while he shook his head. “I didn’t- why the fuck do you care?” he whispered back.

Because the Moriyamas never did anything for free. Because the price better not involve Nathaniel. Because Andrew was always cleaning up for his twin. “You were supposed to stay out of trouble.” Andrew had done what he could to keep track of his brother while on campus, but that task had grown almost impossible between juggling classes, being a Raven, Nathaniel, and Aaron ignoring him the past few weeks. “Not break into-“

“You have everything,” Aaron turned to give him a look that was pure jealousy. “They’re already talking about you making Court, you found your soulmate, what else is there? I’ve got nothing.”

He certainly didn’t have any brains, Andrew thought with growing bitterness. He had a scholarship to pursue his dreams of being a doctor, he had the brother he’d begged for along with the second chance of a future. ‘Nothing’ indeed.

However, it seemed that Tetsuji and the other guy were finished, so away Aaron went, leaving Andrew to find out what he owed for his brother’s latest folly. “I suggest making him clean the bathrooms,” Andrew said as he struggled not to fidget from the growing drug withdrawals.

Tetsuji regarded him in that flat, ‘you are worthless to me’ manner which made him such a cheerful fellow for a few seconds before he leaned back in his big leather chair. “I know about the deal you made with my nephew, both about Nathaniel and being off your medication while on court.” His thick brows drew together very slightly, the only hint of disapproval on his usually mask-like face; if it were during a practice session, Andrew would expect the bastard’s cane to be brought down on him at any moment. “You shouldn’t need any incentive to do your best during a game, but one can be… irrational in regards to their soulmate.”

One could also be irrational as fuck in regards to their psychotic nephew, but Andrew (for once) kept his mouth shut, considering what had happened in the past few minutes, and considering the reference to Nathaniel.

(Oh, was it difficult, though.)

Tetsuji nodded once, as if pleased by his silence. “Your performance on court is exemplary and has helped the team to have one of their best seasons in years. Upon comparing it to how you play during scrimmages, I believe you were correct when you told Riko that you play best when off your medication. That’s why I’ve had Dr. Gale submit a recommendation that you’ve improved enough in the last few months and no longer need it.”

That… was not what Andrew had expected to hear. “He can do that?” He was supposed to have weekly sessions with the psychiatrist, per the whole court sentencing thing, but one of the very few good things about having signed with the Ravens was, due to the hectic practice schedule, after attending a couple of them, the weekly visits had just… stopped. Dr. Gale would swing by the court once a week to technically ‘see’ Andrew, but that was that, and nothing else was said about the matter.

“He already has; along with the recommendations from your professors and me, it’s expected to be approved.” Tetsuji gave him an intent look. “You’ll be checked in to a local rehabilitation center over the winter break and return in time for the spring semester to play unmedicated.”

On one hand, Andrew felt an odd fluttering in his chest at the thought of being off the damn medication early, in no longer having to take it (in being done with it earlier than expected after he’d found Nathaniel). On the other hand, he was being told to do something, and while he wasn’t the twin studying medicine, he could do a quick bit of math and realized that winter break didn’t give him a lot of time to come off an additive drug.

(But Aaron had done it, so why couldn’t he?)

His innate nature to do the opposite of what he’d been told struggled with the fact that this was what not only he owed to keep Aaron at Edgar Allan but was what he wanted as well; after several seconds, he gave the ‘Master’ a curt nod.

Tetsuji nodded once in return. “Prepare accordingly,” was all he said before he motioned for Andrew to leave.

Andrew didn’t waste any time doing just that.

Nathaniel appeared anxious when he reached his soulmate’s room but didn’t ask any questions. He took one look at Andrew and got out of the way as Andrew went straight to the bathroom so he could take the damn medication (only for a little longer) and get ready for bed. When Andrew came out several minutes later, it was to find that Nathaniel had switched out the sheets for him on Jean’s bed.

“Uhm, everything okay?” Nathaniel asked, his expression uncertain.

Andrew took a moment to check that his soulmate was unharmed (at least physically), that the only bruises on him were a couple fading ones from practice earlier in the week. “Long day.” He was too tired right then to talk about Aaron, Ichirou and winter break, too… it was too much. It would wait until morning.

Yet all Nathaniel did was give him a slight, earnest smile and went to fetch something from his desk. “Okay. Ah, here.” He handed over a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth napkin, a hint of pink on his cheeks. “There were snacks and since it was Ichirou… I was able to bring something back I thought you might like. Good night.” That done, he hurried over to his bed.

Andrew stared after him for moment before he unwrapped the napkin to reveal a large chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting drizzled with caramel, topped with a chocolate raven. Despite the slight upheaval to his stomach from before and the fact that he’d just brushed his teeth, Andrew felt his mouth begin to salivate and sat down on the bed so he could spread the napkin over his lap.

The cupcake was delicious, was the best thing he’d tasted in weeks, was a chocolate overload that made him want to groan in delight. Once he was done licking the last trace of buttercream from his fingers, he glanced over at his soulmate, who was pretending to be asleep. “Thanks, sweetpea. Next time, grab at least two.”

Nathaniel made an adorable growling sound before he spoke. “Sure, the more poison, the better,” he grumbled before he jerked the bedding higher up his narrow shoulders.

Andrew began to count the days left until winter break as he crawled beneath blankets.

*******

Excited for what happens in the next few parts. I always knew how this was going to end, but had a flash of actual dialogue the other night and... YES.

[spnwriter]

Okay. Okay?

Summary: The reader got used by Lucifer now she’s trying to pick up the mess, can she be honest about what truly happened? Will the guys understand? 

Warnings: Mentions of being used, Smut, Oral (Female receiving) Flash backs 

It wasn't uncommon for us to hang out after we finish a hunt. If we were close enough to the bunker, we'd drink there. We were all sat around the library table drinks in hand. I don't know how we ended up talking about sex. It was probably Dean who brought it up. Dean said he needed to get laid. I seconded that notion before I could think of what I was saying. To be fair, it had been a while. Hunting didn't leave a lot of room for intimacy. The boys had always been better at one night stands that I have. Maybe it's because I'm awkward. Possibly it's because of my weight.  The real reason is because I'm too busy pinning over a guy way out of my league. Not that I'd ever tell the boys about my little crush on a certain angle. He's an angle. He doesn't have the same needs us humans have. He doesn't feel attraction like I do. He doesn't that the need for sex. Even if he did, I highly doubt he'd be attracted to me. I carry weight in all the wrong places. My thighs are too big compared to my hips. My waist is too small for my chest. My stomach extends beyond the waist of my jeans.  

That's just physical. Don't get me started on the whole Lucifer thing. Before I met the boys, I made the mistake of trusting Lucifer. He said Micheal was coming. He seemed concerned about this world. I trusted him to do the right thing. When it came down to it, he failed me. The boys since then had forgiven me. Sam and, Dean took me in after my disaster. Dean didn't trust me for a long time. Sam knew I thought I was doing the right thing. Cas, however, didn't have an opinion about me. He seemed to want to keep his distance. The first time we worked together, he kept a close eye on me. I don't blame him. I did help Satan himself. He still doesn't trust me. Whenever we worked together, he insisted that he wanted to be pair with me. He didn't like me working on any part of the case alone. I know I shouldn't be hurt by this. I did it to myself. I got fooled by Lucifer. I fought against him in favor of Lucifer. I fought against all of them. It didn't help that Lucifer became everything I wanted. I never told them that I slept with him. I figured it just makes things worse. Somehow I think Cas knows. I can't deny the sex was amazing. I try not to think about it anymore. It was something that shouldn't have happened. The sad truth is, Lucifer was the best sex I'd ever had. I feel guilty even thinking that. I'd only had vanilla sex. No safe word is needed. I never got off until him. I shouldn't be thinking about this right now. I'm supposed to be helping Sam with research. It's been a while. God, I need to get laid. More accurately, I need to spend some quality time with my vibrator. I hear the sound of someone adjusting in a creaky seat. I look up. I forgot that Cas was even here. Right, focus on the ancient text before me. Scenes kept flashing on my mind. It was like I was reliving having sex with Lucifer.

Lucifer was angry. The Winchester's were interfering with his plans. When he walked through the door, I knew what he needed. He sat at the table of the motel we were staying at. I stripped down and keeled at the foot of the bed. I waited for him. He stared at me for what felt like forever. He finally stood. He leans down to me.

"Look at you. Already ready for me? A little slut for her Daddy."

He grips my throat tightly. He drags me to my feet. He slams his lips against mine before he throws me on the bed. I spread my legs for him. He groans as he presses his body against mine."Tell me what you want, Little girl," Lucifer whispered in my ear.

"Want you, Please Daddy," I whine at the feeling of his fingers caressing my cunt.

"You want Daddy's cock? I think I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy first." Lucifer informs as he dips down to rest in between my opened thighs.

"So wet." He hums as he licks a from my asshole to my clit. I reach to thread my finger through his hand. He slaps the side of my thigh hard.

"No touching, Little girl." He warns.

Lucifer was always so good at eating pussy. He rolled my clit on his tongue. He takes the nub in between his lips and, sucks. He dips down to fuck me with his tongue. He back away enough to speak.

"Are you gonna cum on Daddy's tongue?" He says before he starts sucking on my clit.

"Fuck, Daddy," I whine as I cum.

He works me through my high. I try to pull away but, he wraps his arms around my thighs. He's forcing me to feel the pleasure.

"You'll take whatever I give you," Lucifer demands as he brings me to the edge once more.

I bite my lip as I remember cumming six times that night. I came on his tongue, his fingers, his cock, and even because of his grace. Someone says my name. I look over to see Castiel. "Your thoughts are very distracting." Cas says loudly.

Dean sets his feet on the floor at Cas' sentence. "What thoughts?" Dean smirks. "She is thinking about sex with- "Castiel!" I yell. Cas is staring at me intensely.

"I need a break." I announce as I stand. I walk quickly to my room. I lean against the shut door. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about Lucifer going down on me? It felt so real. My thighs are sticky with my arousal. I hear the sound of fluttering wings. Castiel is in my room. He's staring me down. He steps forward caging me in between him and, the door. Is that lust in his eyes? "I knew you had a thing for Lucifer. I didn't think you'd sleep with him." Castiel frowns. "You could see that memory?" I ask. "I was the reason you remembered it. I wanted to know why you fought for him."

I open my mouth to speak. "I always wondered why something so beautiful was with that bag of dicks. Now I know." "It was more than just that, Cas." "What was it? Hum? What could possibly justify fighting with Lucifer?"

I feel tears pooling in my eyes. "There isn't." I whisper. Cas looks at me with surprise. "You cared for him." I nod. Cas cups my face gently. His facial expression softens. "He manipulated you. He used the fact that you cared for him...Y/N,"

The tears start falling. He takes me into his arms. "You never told anyone about that." He whispers. "I thought it'd make it worse." I admit. "They would have understood." "Would they?" Cas pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. "Yes, they would have. They wouldn't judge you for that." "I miss him." I finally admit to myself. "I know, I can feel it. And, you're going to for a while." "I feel so stupid for believing that he cared for me." "Y/N, you aren't stupid." He brushes my hair behind my ear. "You got caught up in him."

He presses a kiss on my cheek. "You deserved more than he gave you." "I deserved exactly what I got." "No, you didn't. He used you. He saw how giving your soul is. He took advantage of that.”

"I was dumb and, let him. I really thought I was doing the right thing." "I know you did." Cas lifts me effortlessly. He sets me on the bed. He brushes my hair away from my face. "You aren't stupid. Lucifer used you. He broke your heart. It's okay to miss him. It's okay to hurt. What isn't okay is blaming yourself for what happened. I got fooled by him as well. Do you think I'm stupid?" "No, you thought you were doing the right thing." "So did you. We're all here if you need us." He starts to turn away. I grab his hand. "Can-Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep?" "Of course." I lay down. He slides against me. As Cas hold me, I realize this is what caring for someone looks like. It isn't using someone body for their pleasure. It's staying with someone when they need you. I feel Cas' grace wash over my body. He's lulling me to sleep. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

When I wake up, Cas is still lying beside me. A soft knock fills the room. Sam and, Dean peek into the room. Sam offers a soft smile. They know. "Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asks as he steps into the room. "I thought it'd make things worse." "It doesn't make things worse. It helps us understand." Dean frowns. "I'm sorry." "You don't need to apologize. I've been there with Ruby. I get it." Sam sigh. "You should have told us, Sweetheart," Dean informs.

"We care about you." Cas suddenly says. "If you need to talk, we're all here." Sam smiles. "Thanks, guys."

They leave the room. Cas looks down at me. "I care about you...very much. Lucifer didn't know what he threw away. Your soul is the brightest soul I've seen in a long time. If you'll have me, I want to show you what you deserve." I look at the angle with surprise. "Cas, what are you trying to say?"

"I know what it's like to mess up when you think you're doing the right thing. I saw how broken you were. Yet, you were still so giving. So willing to help with Lucifer. I care for you very much. I know you're not ready for anything. I understand that. Just allow me to be here for you until you're ready." "You want me?" "Yes, I do. Very much so." I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he means what he's saying. He wouldn't lie to me about this. "Okay." I whisper. "Okay?" He asks. "Yeah, Okay." I answer. He kisses the side of my head.

[whateverthedragonswant]

and the rewatch continues

So rewatching most of season 5 and dipping into season 6, after coming from season 4, I found some things very interesting, things I actually had forgotten about and some that just hit differently now that the show has ended:

Season 4:

Brothers - different iterations: Had that finale happened after this season, it might have made better sense (though I STILL say the manner of Dean’s death is laughable)

Destiel & Cas: While Cas and Dean have some uncomfortable staring contests and there’s chemistry, I didn’t get the whole Destiel vibe (this is just my personal take), yes there’s a bond there, a growing partnership so to speak but I feel like Cas is not around enough for it to be in the forefront of the story or even to demand Dean’s attention in a way. Like Cas made his big entrance in 4x01 and we saw how things took off from there for the story and for this connection/bond between he and Dean but Dean is early season Dean and Cas is early season Cas. Though I found Cas’ interest in everything Dean Winchester to be intriguing (and he put Dean back together with his own hands, I just...this really does become the greatest love story ever told, I swear), I personally didn’t get the whole UST vibes that has been talked about. I actually found myself wanting to go deeper into Cas’ story (a la 6x20 style) aside from Dean’s and Sam’s. 

Anna: That whole night with Anna was purely that: a night. There wasn’t a whole lot of chemistry between Jensen and Julie and it’s very clear that this whole sex-on-last-night-on-earth thing is for comfort, for both characters. I kind of get why they switched up gears there for Dean’s angel role, even if they didn’t intend for Destiel to read as romantic at all initially. 4x09 & especially 4x10 were so obviously trying to ying and yang the brothers and the sides that had chosen them/complemented them: Anna | Ruby, Heaven | Hell -> eventually Michael | Lucifer. But back to Anna, while I enjoyed her character and would have loved to delve deeper with her, I am glad Cas was the one who got to stay. Anna and Dean had no chemistry, outside of a couple of glances before the big hookup/last night on Earth deal, there wasn’t really anything there. Tbf, they didn’t have a lot of private time before that, except maybe one convo. To me, in this scenario, Anna was a source of comfort (after she tells Dean he needs to forgive himself for what happened in Hell which I very much appreciated, someone had to tell him that) and attraction, letting her have her last night on Earth, a hookup, etc. But there was nothing deeper there. And for this bond with an angel to happen, there needed to be something deeper there. Perhaps had Anna been around longer and didn’t go the way she did in season 5, it might have but I honestly tend to doubt it. We all know Cas and Dean’s (Misha’s and Jensen’s) natural chemistry is off the charts. I’m not sure Anna (Julie) could have competed with that had both Cas and Anna stuck around together. I know I’m completely biased here, but I almost felt like Anna and Cas had more chemistry together, it might have been because they got more face time, I’m not sure. But I thoroughly enjoyed watching it all go down again.

Adam: Omg I forgot about how Adam wasn’t Adam when Dean and Sam first met him. That was heartbreaking on so many levels, but mostly for Adam and his mom dying the way they did and of course, for Dean and Sam. Namely Dean because he was the most affected by finding out about Adam’s existence. And I swear I fell in love with Dean more in that episode as a character because despite his pain, his anger, his hurt, he still tries to do the right thing by Adam, to honor his dad’s wishes. And John...that mf’er doesn’t deserve any of those boys as his sons. What an asshole through and through. 

Season 5:

Destiel & Cas: And now we see Cas becoming a bit more forefront and the vibe has changed...slightly. Now it’s a partnership turning into a friendship. Dean and Cas get a bit more face time and it shows. 5x03 was awesome and of course the wholly unnecessary line of “One, Bert and Ernie are gay” -- like where did that come from? I still loved it. It was tough to see Dean and Sam go their separate ways in the beginning but we still got some gold out of it with 5x03 and 5x04. And thankfully, we get more into not only more of the angel and apocalypse lore this season, but we also get to see how Cas’ relationship with the Winchesters is changing and more of what makes Cas tick as a character in his own right. And of course, bamf!Cas was very present. 

Brothers: Once again, had that finale happened after this season, it might have made more sense (sans the junk death) - because it’s very obvious that the co-dependency is alive and well here and it would have made more sense for their characters - while they have others outside of the two of them they are caring about (Bobby, Ellen, Jo just to name a few), it’s still the exclusive Winchester-only club. I truly enjoyed watching these two working together and moving towards the season finale. Dean’s memory of Sam and the fireworks, Dean talking about how Sam’s best memories weren’t the same as his (shocker, John Winchester is a d-bag, I’ll keep saying it), Dean struggling to make the decision to say yes to Michael, having to agree with the plan for Sam to say yes to Lucifer to try to trap the latter, Dean showing up to the cemetery -- all of it was incredible and the two of them were the beating heart of the show at that point. 5x22 will always be one of my favorite season finales for that show. It was pure awesomeness, truly epic and perfect.

Dean: holy hell, they really, really threw a lot into Dean this season - not that they hadn’t before, but damn. Each season just amps up the Dean game, just like I remember, and I am happily here for it again. No offense to Sam at all, but Dean is just so complex, so complicated yet straightforward, and there’s so many layers to him that they just keep peeling back and they feed us well each season. I swear, if you turned the sound off and just watched that scene where Dean tells Zachariah to call Michael, where Dean and Sam go their separate ways, you would know exactly everything Dean is feeling and thinking thanks to the incredible talent of one Mr. Jensen Ackles. Just really incredible. How this man never got nominated for an Emmy at any point for this show just astounds me. Yes, I know that show wasn’t considered a contender for that type of award run, but dammmnnnn. He deserves it and more. Watching this season and season 4 really brought back the original reasons I fell in love with Dean as a character in the first place. One of the best characters ever, I’m telling you. And may I just say, I hated that they brought back John’s leather jacket for him in the season finale but I get it, it was Kripke’s swan song (did I just do that? I believe I did) so we of course went back to core Winchester things, not just in story but every element. I’m ngl, I was so glad to see Dean shed it though when he is sitting down to dinner with Lisa and Ben.

Apocalypse: I thoroughly enjoyed this whole plot line - this really was high stakes, more than ever before, and though angels were dicks, there was Lucifer of course and a mysterious though mostly absent God behind the curtain - you just never knew what was going to be thrown at you next, just like the boys were going through.

Heaven/Mary: even though this definitely has to do with Dean more so, I did enjoy them seeing Ash and Pam, Ash’s setup, and of course Mary being there, seeing how such a good memory could be manipulated by the dick angels and the horrible things Mary said to Dean. Of course, I felt for Dean but it was interesting to see that whole scene play out. Plus we got even more confirmation of what we’ve known all along: John is a bonafide asshole and Dean really did experience facets of spousification, even before Mary died (which just makes me so sad for him, I swear if they don’t put a Cas vs John scene in the reboot... because you know Cas will win that thumb war)

Meg: ngl, I wasn’t really crazy about this iteration of Meg - I don’t mean Rachel Miner’s version, just this particular performance, which I chalk up to whoever decided they wanted her to go this route in her performance - I couldn’t believe it was the same character, the same actress - I am so glad the show/Rachel developed the character we all love to hate and secretly really love to how she was in later seasons

Jo: omg Jo. I have to admit, in season 2, in the first episode she showed up in, I despised her. She was like that bratty teenage kid who’s a real pain in the ass and whines and doesn’t get it. But after that episode, I grew to love her with each one she was in. She became a bamf in her own right and I loved seeing that come through this season especially. Her death was horrific (what is it with this show killing off bamf female hunters in such a gruesome way? it brought back horrible Eileen flashbacks for me personally, and for them to turn Meg and Ketch into somewhat redeemable characters after that... you know, I swear...) but heroic and I had never been more proud of my girl. Except the scene with Dean in the kitchen. As much as I love my chaotic hunter son, I was glad to see Jo flip him off in the way she did. So proud. And then her goodbye with Dean, I had forgotten exactly what he did so I was going “omg, she just saved you, Dean, this girl has feelings for you, she deserves at least a kiss, kiss her. right. the fuck. now!” and sure enough, he did, on the forehead, which I was like okay, well I get it, he doesn’t return those feelings but he does care about her but dammit, she deserved for him to plant one on her. and then he did and I was just gone, I was a complete bawling mess. And her goodbye scene with Ellen, and then her death along with Ellen’s sacrificing herself to stay by Jo’s side and give the boys a chance to get out of there...yeah, I didn’t stop crying for about five minutes. I cannot tell you how much I miss those characters and I would have sold someone else’s right arm to make their return in the series finale happen. Besides the obvious characters that should have been present, Ellen, Jo, and Ash deserved to be there (just not Samantha and Chad, if we can get a “Cas helped” for the third major character/lead, we can also get a “Ellen and Jo went to assist in setting up the honeymoon suite above the roadhouse - I said what I said).

John: usually, I cannot abide giving any time to this jerk, never mind talking about him, but I have to say I enjoyed seeing pre-loss John in 5x13. That conversation he has with Sam I think is so glaringly important. I know it was for Sam to forgive John and heal, but the fact that John himself is saying “how could he do that to you? he was supposed to protect you” -- yep, that was pure poetic cinema in my eyes. Because pre-loss John is right, how dare post-loss John do that to his boys? There’s no excuse anyone or this show can give him. As much as I love JDM, post-loss John Winchester will never be okay in my book.

Adam: omg Adam. First of all, I loved his dynamic with Sam and Dean. I really, really wish we could have had him around longer just for that alone. What an awesome character we could have had giving Dean and Sam a run for their money. “Well, we’re working on the power of love.” “How’s that going?” “Not so great.” -- give me an episode of the three brothers on a milk run hunt (sans generic mask-wearing vampmimes) with all of the fixings and I swear we would get done!Sam, consistently being roasted between Dean and Adam, and then Dean thinking he’s got a mutual now, a BFF, and Adam turning right around to roast him as well. It would be epic, I tell you, epic. I wish Adam had gotten a better end, this season and at the end of the series. He certainly deserved better. And this may be a random observation but why did Michael take Adam at all? I know the countdown had begun and he was desperate to grab a vessel so he could fight Lucifer at the appointed time and Dean was not giving in (that he knew of), but what chance of victory did he think he had without using his true vessel? Using that logic, I guess Michael’s end in the series makes more sense now...? Who knows.

Chuck: Swan Song (5x22) and the lines, “Endings are hard. Any chapped ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass“ -- did anyone else feel like that was Kripke speaking or is it just me?

Season 6:

the whole Lisa thing: while it was nice to see Dean go domestic, I have to say I was more invested in Dean and Ben’s relationship development than I was with Dean and Lisa’s. The chemistry just wasn’t there, I have to be honest (he and Anna actually had more chemistry for a few minutes than he did with Lisa this whole season). I don’t doubt they loved each other, it was real, and Lisa was good for him at the time but it just didn’t have that spark. I loved Lisa as a character in her own right, but I was happy to see her and Dean eventually go their separate ways. Though my heart broke for Ben on that one. He and Dean really had a whole father-son bond happening there. I appreciated that when Ben called him, even that one time that nothing was really wrong, Dean dropped everything and headed right over. They had a bond of their own happening outside of Dean and Lisa’s. I think Dean ultimately made the right choice in the end to keep Lisa and Ben safe (though they should have been able to choose if they wanted this), but God did that cost him and we see it in that scene outside of the hospital with Sam. How much that hurt for him, and for us to see how it killed him to do it. I’m still grateful that he got to see what the domestic life was like and that he got a reprieve from hunting for a bit. It made complete sense as to why Cas didn’t want to pull him back in to ask for help with Raphael.

Destiel: Welp, now there’s definitely an emotional relationship happening. Meaning the bond has become even more forefront and not only is Dean affected, but we also see that Cas is, too. Dean’s reaction to finding out Cas was working with Crowley the whole time, Cas’ reaction to Dean choosing to save the two boys instead of focusing on finding Eve, Cas’ reaction to Dean’s stance on the Crowley situation, Dean’s finding out Crowley kidnapped Lisa and Ben, Cas asking Dean to trust him, Dean seeing Cas becoming the new God and needing to summon Death, etc. It was fantastic. While it hurt during some moments, I enjoyed seeing the dynamics and reactions to these situations play out. This is definitely a friendship now, a family relationship formed (and still forming) like Dean says in 6x20. Imho, Jensen and Misha knocked it out of the park this season when it came to that relationship. I loved it.

Cas: holy hell, 6x20 has become one of my all-time favorite episodes of SPN. I loved seeing Cas’ POV. Cas was already a fave character of mine but this episode made me fall in love with him all over again. This was incredible and I’m so thankful they fed us so well with this one. I really enjoyed seeing Cas as a character stepping into the forefront, right there with Dean and Sam. Yes, he was a part of TFW before this, but you have to admit that in this season, it becomes a whole new ball game. Really amazing stuff and of course, Misha slayed it all.

Meg & Megstiel: I was so happy to see the iteration of Meg return that we know from later seasons. Maybe I’m just too used to that version but to me this felt more effortless for the character and for Rachel, that really let both shine. Personally, I’m not a Megstiel shipper. While I love their dynamic, it just isn’t there for me, but I really did enjoy their scenes together. Cas felt as if he needed a little shaking up so to speak so I think she was perfect for that. Plus, I have a hard time forgiving those in the show that sic Hellhounds on my bamf female hunters so that might be partially the reason for my bias, just saying. (I never really forgave Ketch either)

Samuel...& Co: I just...why? Don’t get me wrong, I liked Mitch but this felt a bit...I don’t know...off? Other than some place for Soulless!Sam to go while Dean was playing house and for nabbing Alphas for Crowley, I don’t get what the point of this story line was? Was it to show us that Mary’s dad was a d-bag? Check. Was it to show us how people sometimes make the worst decisions when it comes to their family? Double check. Like, we kind of already got that and it was just unnecessary confirmation if that makes sense. And the thing that kills me is that Samuel was in Hell (or goes to Hell, I kind of did other things in the background during that arc) but he loved his daughter enough to betray her sons and do the wrong thing but John gets to go to Heaven? This still confounds me. Though I enjoyed Gwen and it was a shame she couldn’t be a family contact in another state for the boys later on to pop up every now and then.

Soulless!Sam: I enjoyed this part of Sam’s arc but I won’t lie, I was relieved like everyone else when he finally got his soul back though waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. But it was interesting to see this side of Sam.

Dad!Dean: I know I mentioned Dean and Ben above, but that one episode with the shifter!baby, that was priceless and God, did I love it.

I just loved going back to this for both boys

[maggyme13]

Child of Water

AN: My entry for the myths-and legends-writingchallenge of @writing4inspiration

My prompt was Kelpie- with Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Asshole Thor, fear, angst

Hope you like it and please let me know what you think!

Masterlist

  You loved water.

Everything about it made you calm and relaxed.

It did not matter if you walked alongside a river, swam in it or simply bathed in some. You always felt your energy restored and your mood lifted after it, and you knew it must have something to do with your heritage.

You were a Kelpie, a water horse, with an old scotish heritage. Your Gran had come to the USA after the second World War; she had fallen in love with an American Soldier – your Grandpa and soon after had became pregnant with your mother, aunt and uncle.

Though only the females of the family carried the ´Kelpie-Gene´, and they all were beautiful to a fault. Not that you were ugly, on the contrary, you would be considered very well looking as well. But not as beautiful as your sisters. You were taking after your father, not only in your looks, but in your mind as well.

Other than your mother and sisters, did you love the city and the excitement of things happening. Not like the calm rural live all of the others in your family loved in upstate New York.

You on the other hand were working at a museum, in the department for medieval history as a tour guide. And whenever you would teach a group of school children, you would tell little fables and stories about all different kind of creatures. They all loved the Stories with Nessy. Whom, trusting your Gran, was a very kind elderly woman who loved to mess with people. She was over 250 years old and  still very well in health, what means that she would be playing pranks on tourists and Scots alike for at least 50 more years.

Apparently she was living near Dumnadrochit ( a little village right at the edge of the water), owning a little Bed and Breakfast called “Nessy´s Inn”, where her sons were working as well.

And yes, there had been attempts on both women´s sides to get one of the Sons and you together as a couple. A water horse and dragon, your bloodline would have been so very strong. ´Unfortunately´ both of the boys were gay and therefor not interested in you.                                                                                                                        

That did not keep them to invite you to every family festival ever: birthdays, Christmas , everything.

One of those festivities was that weekend: your Grandmothers 168 Birthday and she had invited you to her home in upstate NY. This is why you were currently taking a stroll at the lake your whole family lived at. It was in the middle of nowhere, with the only neighbors being the famous Avengers three miles away, though a part of the lake was still on their grounds.

You could not care less, for you had seen them a few times already: Captain America was often coming to the museum to stroll through the changing art displays; Spiderman (you knew was a Highschool kid) had been at the Museum with his school a few times, and whenever he had been there, Tony Stark would visit and spend a few thousand to a hundred-thousand dollars in donations for new displays. One time, he had installed a whole holographic room about Dinosaurs in one night; without anyone knowing about it.

You had simply known about it, because you had forgot something in your office and surprised him mid action.

“My boss will go his opening rounds at 6:30 am. He will be here at about 6:47 am. If you make him scream like a girl I will  tell no one I saw you here; including your wife, who´s number I have from your last benefits auction here at the museum”, you had told him, to what he nodded a yes and the two of you went on your merry ways.

And yes: your boss screamed like a girl; high pitched and long, when a T-Rex appeared out of nowhere and roared right behind him.

It was like a scene from Jurassic world.

You still smiled whenever you thought about that.

The day was sunny and warm and the water kept calling for you, with every step alongside the shore it got louder, to a point where you could not ignore the pull anymore and you jumped into the water and became one with it.

It spend you warmth and energy and soon you changed and became a Waterhorse, a Kelpie.

With a loud shout of joy you breached the surface and galloped along the shore. Over sand and stone, stick and bush, into a lush green field, and through the sunlight.

You ran and ran. Your light coat shying silver in the light, with your hair almost being black, though in reality it was the color of algae, and your coat that of sea-foam.

A sudden loud BANG pulled you out of your mind and you rose on your hind-legs, screaming loudly in panic.

You knew, as a Kelpie, no normal weapon could kill you, but it still would hurt; and you did not like pain.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Calm down, calm down. See no harm done...”, a man shouted with a calm voice and your whole attention went towards him at once.

You where still buckling, stomping your feet; not yet knowing what to do and what happened.

A man stepped closer, his hands risen and his step thoughtful: he did not want to scare you even further.

“Where do you come from? I didn´t know Stark has Horses in this compound. Nor that there are farmers around who do. And your coat, I have never seen a beauty just like you.”

He was handsome, with his dark hair and muscular body; that must you had to admit.

“Shhh, calm down. I don´t want to hurt you. I just want get a good look at you.”, he hummed and you slowly allowed yourself to calm down.

The only thing now on your mind was to find out who he was.

“You are soo beautiful. I wished you would allow me to ride you, I know it won´t happen, but may I pet you? No-? It is alright. Maybe one day you will allow me. But now I have to leave. Please stay save.”, he smiled at you, even waving you good-bye.

You neighed in response before running off on your own.

Maybe I shall return tomorrow.

And you did; five days in a row you returned to that field. And five days in a row you met that mysterious man.

On the third day he introduced himself as Bucky, and you allowed him to gently pet your nose. Though that was everything you allowed him to do.

It did not matter to him, your presence alone seemed to be enough for him and he seemed more and more relaxed around you and even told you about how his days went and about his past before the war.

He grew on you, and decided he could be trusted and allowed to pet you more or even ride on your back.

It would not come to that unfortunately: When you returned to the field the next day, Bucky was already there, talking to a big blond man you knew as Thor.

You slowed your steps, curious and careful of the new situation.

Why is the Asgardian here?

“She should be here any minute. I promise you, there is no horse like that.”, you heard the soldier exclaim, “Ah there- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

His shout of confusion was accompanied by a flying and sparkling ax, thrown by the god, hitting you on your left shoulder.

Had it been lower, you were sure your leg would have been severed.

NO!

Fearing for you life (and not without reason!) you ran back from where you came ( you had make sure to never take the direct rout back to your grans), the would screaming in agony.

His ax was one of the few weapons that could cause you and other supernatural beings harm.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiiit! How could I be so stupid? I need to leave, to disappear. He will kill me. Kill us!

With a last jump you entered the river that would lead you back home to NY, where you would pack your things, quit your job and disappear from this side of the world.

___

“WHAT DID YOU DO`?”, Bucky roared in anger, pushing the man he thought to be a friend to the side.

“I saved your live. That was a Kelpie, a Waterhorse, known to kill men by dragging them into the water drowning them.”, he stated with finality in his voice.

“This horse, it took me days to earn its trust. If it wanted me dead, don´t you think it would have waited this long?”, Bucky hissed.

“I don´t know. But I am better save than sorry, friend. Now, I think Steve is waiting for us.”

Grumpy and hurt, the soldier followed the god back to the compound. He felt sorry for you and hoped you would be able to survive that injury, though he was almost sure  he would find you bled out once he followed the path of blood you left behind.

Four hours your travel back took. Four hours of pain and itching from a healing wound.  You knew it would scar and take days if not weeks to heal properly- leaving a scar behind- but at least you would not bleed to death. That was a plus and the water helped you heal.

Your first destination was the office of the dean of your museum to quit. He was sad. But when he heard you had to leave because of family reasons, he was very understanding and promised you a job should you return. You thanked him and left.

Only to run into a certain teenager.

“Ms (y/n) what is wrong? Why are you injured? Is your Gran alright?”

“Hello Peter, my Gran is right, thank you. I had a…. misunderstanding with a neighbor of her. I am sorry. But I have to leave.”

“Oh, Okay. Will you be doing our school tour next week?”, he continued with a frown.

“I am sorry. But I just quit. Personal reasons . But I bet the one who will take my place will do it just as good. Bye Peter, stay save.”, you smiled sadly.

“Oh, ohm. You too.”

Tears fell down your cheek, you had to make a call you never thought you would make.

“Ms Nes. This is (y/n), I am Eleanor (y/ln) granddaughter. Can- can I come over and stay with you? I I have nowhere else to go and I need to leave the states.”

“Of course Darling. Will you come on your own, or does one of my boys have to get you from the airport?”, the warm elderly voice of the Loch Ness Monster answered through the phone.

“I, I was thinking about asking one of your cousins to fly me.”, you answered.

“Oh Sweetheart. I - one of my Sons will come and get you. Ruaridh is already in the States. I will call him and he will take you and get you straight to us. Pack a bag with your essentials and most important things. Everything else we can get here.”, she continued and you thanked her with a sob.

One hour later, a tall redhead with long hair and beard knocked on your door.

“Ma send me. Come on little foal, let´s get you to safety.”, he smiled, though his eyes hardened once he noticed your wound, “No one can hurt ya at our little Ness. Call me Roo.” “Thank you, Roo. We- we can leave.”, you smiled with pure sadness in your eyes.

“WHAT DID YOU IDIOTS DO?”, Tony Stark boomed before he had even entered the living room of the compound. He was angry and every little Avenger looked at each other confused.

“Why did Peter just call me, to tell that his favorite Tourguide at the museum quitout of personal reasons, all the while having a heavily injured shoulder?”

“I don´t know. And why should we have done anything to her. We don´t even know her...”, Sam wilson piped up.

“Because she told her boss before she had some problems with her Grandmother´s neighbors. WE are her Grandmother´s only neighbors. So: WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?”

“The only ones out of the compound were Barnes and Thor. Ask them.”, Natasha Romanov finally stated.

“FRIDAY?”

“Mr Odinson and Mr Barnes had been in a little situation with a horse this morning. MR Odinson threw his ax at the horse, which ran away. Its front right leg was cut and had it been deeper, it might have been severed.”

“Thank you. Find her. I think there is someone who needs to apologize. And get a medic team ready.”

“Boss. I already did so after you received the call of Mr Parker. There is no trace of her location. She disappeared. I will widen the search and let you know once she is found.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY. And tell Odinson I want to speak with him!”

_____

You were living with the Ness Family for a month now. Helping in their Inn by taking care of drinking orders and cleaning rooms.

Ms Ness was away on her usual ´I play tricks on tourists´-tour and you had the whole Inn for yourself.

It was a beautiful night, clear sky and a barrage of stars to be seen. That´s one thing you loved about the highlands; the stars were much more plentiful than in NYC.

So beautiful and yet so sad. I wished I can go back to Gran and the others.

“So this is your true form.”, a deep silken voice spoke from behind you and cold fear washed down your spine.

They had found you.

No!

Slowly, very slowly you turned around only to see the God of thunder standing a few meters away from you in the open front entrance, lightened by the moon from behind.

“I have to admit you are not bad looking, but far from the beauty of those I have met in the past. You are not a pure one I assume?”, he mused, taking a step towards you. You mirrored them and took the same amount back.

You had just stood a meter away from the door leading to the kitchen and knew that you could flee if you reached it fast.

“Please, I will leave. Up to the Isle of Skye or one of the islands with no man around-”, you breathed, hoping he would let you life.

Suddenly he was distracted by something outside and you bolted through the kitchen and towards the Water.

“MS NESS! ROO!”, you shouted, to far away from the water to turn without pain in your still injured shoulder, “MS NESS!”

Footsteps closed in from the right of you and you felt the warmth of a body getting closer.

“NO!”, you sobbed when said body crashed into you and you immediately began trashing around, hoping to get free and reach your saving grace.

Screaming and sobbing you kicked, and even bit at everything you good reach.

You were in full survival mode.

“I don´t know who ya think ya  are. Bat ya should let the lass go.”, the calm but demanding voice of Roo spoke from the right of you and you stopped moving.

“And I don´t know who you are, mortal, but this has nothing to do with you. This-”, Thor answered from above you.

“Ya sure? This is oar Ness. Oar water and oar reich. You are a mere visita, Son of Odin. And we don´t like family or friends being hurt. And that you already did enough. So leave before Ma gets really angry.”, the younger Dragon chuckled.

“And who shall you be?”, Thor demanded to know.

“That is not of your concern Thunderboy. He is my son, and she is like a daughter to me and you are the one that injured her. Making her flee her life and yet you came after her. “, a deeper version of Ms Nesses voice spoke and when you opened you eyes, you saw her head six meters above the shore line; staring at the God , with her teeth bared, “So if you don´t want to wake the wrath of a Dragon of the Blood of the Sea, you better get up and leave. She is no concern of yours.”

“What the THOR! THE F?”, Bucky´s voice suddenly called from the direction of the Inn, “Get off her! We are here to apologize and not to scare or harm her even further!”

“You are all fooled by her blood!”, the God Roared.

“No. you are the one not thinking straight. Or is Loki a monster just because he was born on Jotunheim? I believe you think different of him than stories suggest.”

“Have it your way. But do not call for my help when she shows her real face. “, with these words the God of Thunder got of your body and stepped away, only to disappear in a rainbow beam of light.

Roo was at your side at once.

“Are you a´right lass?”, he whispered, all the while checking you over for injuries.

“Yes, this time he did not use his ax against me.”, you nodded still shaking in fear.

“You claimed you came to apologize mortal.”, the dragoness hummed, her eyes now locked onto the metal armed soldier.

“Y-yes, Ma´m. After the incident at the compound, we were informed that Ms (y/ln) had quit her job – heavily injured if I might add. But when we tried to locate her she was gone. Stark finally found her earlier this morning and so we came to ask for forgiveness. Thor does not share our view. Tony had her background checked years ago and Parker really likes her, just as Pepper.”

“It is easy to ask for forgiveness. If she would have been hit further down. She would have lost her arm. Now, tell me how we shall now there won´t be coming any further harm to her?”, Ms Ness asked.

“You cannot, for to be tied to us, to the Avengers is dangerous. But I promise you we will do anything in our might to keep her save.”

“That is not enough son. Leave and never return for her For if one of you do, you will face three angry Loch Ness Monster. Come d(y/n) lets get you back inside and into a warm bath.”

_______

It had been two months since Bucky had returned to the compound after his visit to Scotland.

Everyday he would return to the field where he had met you all these weeks ago. He felt bad, knowing you must have been living in fear for your life, maybe still were and he hated Thor for causing it. You had never caused any harm, and trusting Steve and the others who met you, you were a pure and kind soul.

Oh how he wished you had believed him. But he understood why you didn´t. He had the same problem of trust after what had happened to him for all those years.

“I am sorry I could not keep you from harm.”, he whispered into the wind, his eyes closed.

“Then make good for it by not letting it happen again. Because then I won´t return and you will face more than just the Line of Loch Ness. We are far more than you might believe.”, your voice danced in the wind. Not filled with fear but with a promise,  “ And next time keep a better eye on your youngest. The cold and windy highlands with there little houses is no place for a Spider of the Big City.”

His eyes snapped open realizing he was really hearing your voice and not imagining it.

Only for them to look into the blue ones of your Kelpie-form.  

“Hello Mr Barnes.”, Young Peter Parker called from your back, “Are Mr Stark and Ms Potts angry?”

“No. We di- when did you leave? And how did you do it without raising an alarm?”, the soldier almost shouted atht eh teen.

“I might have stolen an jet?”, he mumbled.

“You did WHAT?”

“It was totally Shuri´s idea!”

“ THAT DOES NOT MAKE IT BETTER!”

You chuckled, nudging the man with your snout.  “Can you ride? The boy need food and something warm to drink. We came up the river and the air is cold these days.”

“Ye-yes I can ride. But-”

“No but´s. Dragons have a keen eye for the pure hearted, why do think they always went after the innocent and naive virgins? Ms Ness said you are one of those pure hearted. So I thought to give your promise a try. And, I really miss NY.”

You noticed his eyes linger on the scar Thor had left.

“It will never really heal. But at least it does not hurt anymore.”

“I am still sorry.”, the soldier mumbled.

“Then be it. Now get this teenager back to the house before Mr Stark starts a 3rd Worldwar over finding him.”

With one swift movement Bucky got on your back, and once satisfied he would not fall of, you ran to where you thought the Compound must have been.

So what do you think? DId I get the Prompt and Creature honour?

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

Thank you very much.

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc​@pacifyhxlsey​ @thankyoukarenclifford​

@thankyouforanonymity​  @punkrockhufflefluff​

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool  @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

MCU:

@yknott81​    @banner-and-bucky-are-life​ @forext20​ @dyanlzbb​  @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4​ @bitchwhytho​ @ladyofmyst​   @jilldsumner​ @momc95​ @appreciating-fanfics​

[supernaturalphobia]

spn seasons based on how subjectively good they are

1-3: they slap. honestly this is when spn peaked, I am always sad when I finish this part of a rewatch

4-5: they may have rights based on the following components: cas and being part of a planned out storyline. 5 is on thin ice based on interpersonal issues tho. they should have stopped here

6: who are you. I hate you. everyone’s an asshole. did not like soulless Sam. did not like whatever the fuck Dean became in his relationship to Lisa and Ben when he succumbed to paranoia

7: dick jokes funny. cas :( meg :)

8: what happened in this season. Sam is sad?? Dean is a dick?? More at nine

9-10: mark of Cain???? cas :( dean >:( things are bad in regards to lying in the house winchester but at least the deancas analogies are getting stronger. the birth of crowley’s crush on dean :)

11: u KNOW WHAT this was a Renaissance for me. less lying. less pain. cas :( but I didn’t hate to watch anymore!

12: what a mess. but a lovable mess tho. was the writing bad? very very very. is this the point where it REALLY started to read like fanfiction? yes. some fun scenes tho! dean discusses a smidge of his childhood traumas for like the first time

13: jack has been born which in hindsight means it’s all downward from here. didn’t hate it! some cute jack scenes, some nice sam relates to someone scenes, the cowboy episode! dean :/ the alt! dimension storyline :/

14: what’s happening. no stop

15: STOP. I DONT WANT IT. STOP.

[shadequeen712]

Love the Stars Chapter 2: Rainbows are Real

Pairing: playboy!Dean x OC

Genre: nightclub au

Warnings: angst, depression

The next time I worked, he wasn't there. Things became normal again, the cycle went on, and I resumed the role of the silent spectator as I have been for so long.

My life was progressing exactly the same, which is to say it wasn't progressing at all. I was still stuck in the same run-down club serving the same sad souls. My family still believed that I was in the film scene; that I was working for some famous producer and making a name for myself here in L.A. The only thing I was making for myself was a pool of self-pity to bathe in. I had been lying to my family for years, too embarrassed to tell anyone that my dream had not amounted to much of anything. Meanwhile, I was stuck in a hopeless place watching people more fucked up than I was waste their lives away. But at least, as a constellation prize, the sun still rises every morning and sets every evening.

If being an adult teaches you anything, it's that self-pity does not create miracles. It is only a way to cope with life. Nothing more or less. But that doesn't keep me from drowning in it daily.

Like now for instance, as I observe yet another classic pick up of a woman in this club. The man is somewhat decent-looking, but he lacks the nervous ticks of someone who is looking for a serious relationship. Instead he is too smooth and practiced, as if talking to girls is a routine for him. And it is, because last week he was doing the same to a younger woman with bigger boobs and a tighter dress. He must be trying to go for the innocent type this time, because this girl is starry-eyed and clearly too dumb to recognize his game. 

I looked away, not keen on seeing another victim in the making. Just as I was contemplating organizing the drinks behind the bar someone walked up and sat down. It was the man from before, this time in a pressed red suit that had no shirt underneath. For a second I just couldn't keep the look of disgust off my face, and per my luck, that was the exact moment he happened to look at me. 

Well shit, was all I could think as he waved me over, his eyes expressive and blank at the same time. I approached him, trying to give him my nicest 'customer service' expression, expecting the worst. But he only said, "I'll take a vodka straight," just like the last time and nothing more. 

I had his drink ready faster than the last time, trying to escape from his line of sight. But clearly he wanted to talk to me this time, as more words left his mouth. 

"You ever been in love, Renee?" He said, his accent showing but not so much that I couldn't understand him. I wish that I couldn't understand the question that he asked, because I didn't have much of an answer for it. Love? What love could come from a world without romance? Why would I have ever been in love? 

I settled on a simple, "No, not really," and left it at that. Except he wasn't done, clearly. 

"You should try it some time. It really shows who you are as a person," he continued. "How you treat someone after being with them for so long, how you change overtime into someone unrecognizable, it's very informative. I think everyone should experience love at least once." 

I was grappling for a response. The other night I was practically begging for him to speak to me, and now I was deeply regretting the thought. "I'm not sure why you think so. I mean, isn't it better to fantasize about love than to go through heartbreak? Aren't you sad after being with someone for so long and then leaving them? It doesn't seem like a good experience to me," I disagreed.

He sipped his drink, quirking his lips into the tiniest of smiles. "I never said it was a good experience. I just said it was an experience that everyone should have. Not everything in life can be rainbows, can it?" 

Well put. I somehow wanted to prove him wrong, so I found myself replying, "But rainbows still exist, don't they?" 

He chuckled darkly, somehow finding my statement amusing. But I wasn't joking in the slightest. He did know that the sun could still shine, right?

Before we could continue the debate we were having, a man approached him from behind much like the woman from the other night. 

"Excuse me, but are you the guy my wife has been seeing? She said you would be easy to recognize," the older man said in a small voice. He seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, confronting his wife's lover. I could clearly see the woman from the other time, this time in a slim-fitting tan dress, watching approvingly. I guessed that this was some form of revenge for being left after a one night stand.

Yeah, one night stands were a messy business. They leave you unsatisfied and hurt, as if you took a drug that didn't quite get you high, instead leaving you with a pounding headache and no buzz. 

I wondered how he would handle this situation. Surely he had encountered it before? 

He was still silently sipping his drink when the man tapped his shoulder harshly. It caused him to spill a small portion of the vodka onto his nicely tailored suit. 

Very calmly, he put the glass down, turning to finally look the older man directly in the eyes. No words were exchanged verbally, but I know the power of eyes. 

The older man seemed distraught at the message he was getting, turning to look at his wife for guidance. She seemed angry that he had even backed down for a second. She motioned between the two furiously, telling him to resume the confrontation. 

"Look man, I don't appreciate you sleeping with my wife the way you did. I think an apology would be fine for her-" 

"Apologize for what exactly?" The younger man finally cut in. "For her wounded pride? Or for her infidelity? I'm not sure which one matters more." 

I raised both my eyebrows at that. The older man looked a bit flustered, but his anger was flaring. "Are you insinuating that my wife is at fault? Regardless of whether she approached you or not, the first question you should have asked was, are you married? Are you in a relationship of any kind? What kind of scumbag just sleeps with a woman when she's drunk out of her mind?"

The younger man let that sink in, nodding. "So what you're telling me is, though your wife willingly came here, drank herself into a stupor and approached me desperately a couple nights ago, I'm at fault for not knowing she was married? Do you not think she's at fault for cheating on her husband in the first place? Did it ever occur to you that I could be the victim, that I was drunk and in a bad place, and that I was in no condition to turn her down?"

I was called over to a few more customers for orders. I served them their drinks and apologized for being careless. I let them have wings on the house to make up for it.

I was slacking on the job, all because I was too interested in this boy whose name I didn't know. He was just a club victim like the rest, no different at all. He was the embodiment of hopelessness. He came here because he had already given up, and had resigned himself to be a part of the only crowd that would accept him. Now he was being attacked by a woman's husband after his first night stand. He had terrible luck, if nothing else. 

By the time I got through serving the other customers, the husband and wife had already left the club, and the young man in the soiled red suit sat watching my every move. He was still sipping on the vodka, but he seemed more animated now, as if the fight had lit up his life a little. Like he craved it or something. 

The look in his eyes brought me back over to him, and prompted me to ask, "What happened?" 

He shrugged. "He left. Looks like trouble in paradise for sure."

"Paradise?" I exclaimed. "That woman cheated on her husband, how the hell is that paradise? That's bullshit." 

He smirked. "Is it? So what is your definition of paradise, Renee?" 

"Ren," I corrected him. "My friends call me Ren." He nodded and motioned for me to go on. 

"My definition is the actual definition of paradise, which is an ideal place to be in. Cheating and drinking and lying is not that ideal place at all," I explained. 

He nodded. "So what is, then? What is the ideal place for you?" 

I paused, finding it odd that he would ask me such personal questions when before he had been so disinterested. What changed? Was I interesting because I argued that rainbows existed or because I was the only girl that had not come on to him yet? 

"Is it hard to answer?" He asked, between sips. "I thought it might be. It doesn't seem like you would know either way." 

I recoiled. "Excuse me?" 

He snorted. "This is probably the most human interaction you've had in years. This will fulfill your love fantasies for weeks I'm sure. 'Oh, he looked at me different than the other girls tonight. There's a sparkle in his eyes that wasn't there before.' Isn't that what you're thinking?" 

I was so offended that I couldn't conjure the words. I was so angry, I just didn't know what to do with myself. What angered me the most is that he was somewhat right. I was thinking that he was looking at me differently, and I was seeing a new light in his eye as he looked at me. Was it because he wanted it this way? Did he want me to think that he wanted me?

He tsked at me. Like I was being a bad girl or something. Like he was my father. "I'm disappointed. I thought you were a sharp one for sure. I guess you're no different then." 

Every word was like a punch to the gut. Seriously? Who was this guy? He thought he knew me? 

I scoffed. "I thought you were different. But you're the same as these horrible men that come here every night, hunting girls to break and use. The only difference is that you were like that to begin with, weren't you? You've always been a major league asshole, and she only just realized it and got away from your crazy ass. Power to her," I retorted, storming away from the bar counter and marching into the women's restroom. 

I stood there in the stall, running through the words of the argument over and over until my head hurt. Then I came out and went back to my station, only to find that he was gone, and there was no time left on my shift. In other words, I was going to be fired. 

So much for rainbows, right?

Chapter 3

[the-real-anywolf]

Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: An Avalanche Of Fluff

Tags: Established Destiel; Castiel’s Plushie Obsession; Buying on eBay Has Never Been So Much Fun; Fluff; Smut; Explicit Sexual Content; Astroglide Makes an Appearance; Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester; The Plushiepocalypse is Nigh; Battle of the Puppy Dog Eyes, HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANKIE!!!

Summary: Even though he’s running out of space, Cas keeps adding to his plushie collection. When Dean buys him ‘just one more’, and Sam is nearly crushed by an avalanche of them, he stages an intervention. Cas might be as good at giving the puppy dog eyes as he is, but he will not be swayed… nope.

Written by: @anyreiart (anyrei), @eyesofatragedy67​ (Eyes_of_a_Tragedy) & @punk-is-notdead​ (tfw_cas)

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765409

Notes: *ahem* It's mugglerock's birthday, people. Let's celebrate! Every time you read the word plushies(1), take a shot, lol!

Any here: Happy Birthday, Frankie! ( @misspoogy ) Day 12 of our Advent calendar is our surprise fic for you! We love you so so so so much and wish you all the best for this day!

Trex here: Frankie, sorry not sorry for the sneak attack, but you're the bestest, and deserve all the plushies(2)! Happy Birthday, bb! Love you so mush! *throws Dean's pink panties at you*

Ruk here: Surprise!! *throws sparkly birthday confetti* Happy Birthday Frankie, we love you loads. Also sorry not sorry… for all the fluff. We hope you enjoy this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it. 😘😘

Additional Note: Ruk and Trex wrote a birthday fic for me earlier this year and this is kind of the follow up chapter. You can read how the plushie(3) obsession started here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769434

Day 12:   An Avalanche Of Fluff

Ever since Cas had won that giant panda - with lots of help from Dean, of course - his collection of plushies had gotten larger and larger. It had gotten to the point that Dean was worried that one day he would return to the bunker and the plushies would have taken over.

Also, there was the slightly bizarre matter of Cas naming them all after different angels. And not just ones he'd liked either; he had a snake named Naomi, and a skunk named Raphael.

Most of them were angels Cas liked and missed, though. Even Gabriel, who was apparently a hyena.

There was also a squirrel named Dean, and a moose named Sam, and Cas kept them separate from the others, on a shelf in the kitchen. Dean got into the habit of saying good morning to them when he was in search of his morning coffee. He knew it was kind of silly, but it reminded him of a certain King of Hell, who’d ended up becoming one of their greatest allies.

Cas had named one of his plushies after Crowley too; it was a rat, but not a dirty one. Cas treated it almost like a beloved pet, which Dean found quite endearing.

Despite the ever growing number of Cas’s new friends, Dean found himself encouraging his hobby. Dean knew he shouldn’t, but every time Cas got a new one he was so damn happy… and so damn grateful too.

Sam though…

He didn’t seem to be very happy with the plushies turning up everywhere. Cas’s new plush bee, that didn’t have a name yet, had been standing in front of the little container on a shelf in the kitchen. A container Sam stored his teabags in. When he grabbed it in the morning the bee slid from the shelf and fell into his bowl of cereal, splashing the milk everywhere. Sam had given him an impressive bitchface, as he fished the drenched bee out of his milk.

“You better get that milk off him before Cas sees. Hurry up and wash him real quick.” Dean gestured towards the sink, wondering if Sam was going to carry it over, or throw it from where he was sitting.

To his relief, Sam started to wash the bee in the sink, shaking his way too long lion's mane. "He? Does this one have a name, too?"

“Actually, I dunno. I just figured it looked like a ‘he’. Cas is still thinking of a name for this one.”

Sam held up the dripping bee with a sceptical look. "Don't you think Cas has enough stuffed animals by now? They seem to be everywhere."

Dean shrugged. “They make him happy… just like bacon makes me happy.” There was another reason Dean didn’t object to Cas’s little plushie obsession, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Cas. If Cas kept them all at the bunker, he wouldn’t leave again, right?

Sam put the dripping bee down on the kitchen counter. The antennae were hanging down, giving the wet bee a sad look. “Can you even still go into your room? I mean, how many plushies does he have by now?”

“Er… I actually don’t know. I lost count. But I have to get one more for him; it’s super rare.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I’m beginning to wonder if the plushies are your obsession, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy,” Dean huffed. Sam was kind of right, but he wasn’t going to tell him that, was he?

“Of course you don’t,” Sam said, sarcastically. “But if this carries on, I’m staging an intervention.”

He sat back down and ate his now-soggy cereal, and Dean got the impression that the conversation was over for now.

"Who made you the plushie police?" Dean muttered under his breath. He finished fixing his cup of coffee and walked out of the room. He had an eBay auction to win.

***

Dean was parked on his bed, computer across his lap, staring intensely at the screen. So far, no one had added an additional bid on the beluga whale Dean was trying to win for Cas; but he was poised, ready to up-bid, in case someone tried to snipe him.

With only fifteen minutes left on the clock, the door opened and Cas came in, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend on the bed, laptop at the ready.

“Hello, Dean. Are you waiting for me?” He quirked his eyebrow in that way that made Dean’s breath catch and walked over to the bed.

"I'm always waiting for you, sunshine," Dean smiled and grabbed Cas's hand, tugging him down onto the bed.

Cas found Dean’s lips with his own, and kissed him so insistently, that if Dean hadn’t had the laptop perched on his lap, it was very likely that Cas would be on top of him instead.

He pulled back an inch or two, and sighed contentedly. “There’s a lot more room on this bed now that we moved my plushie collection to my old room.”

Dean laughed. "My memory foam didn't remember me anymore." He cupped Cas's cheek in his hand, brushing that chapped lower lip with the pad of his thumb.

Cas joined in the laughter, laying back and placing his hands behind his head. “What’s on the laptop? Is it a special video?”

"No, babe, I finally found that whale you've been looking for. I'm currently the top bidder, so no distracting me, okay?" Dean mock-squinted at him.

Cas sat upright, his face now a picture of seriousness. “I would be very grateful if you won the whale for me, Dean. I’ll wait with you.” He squeezed Dean’s hand for luck, and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Dean knew where this was leading, as Cas climbed behind him, chin on his shoulder so he could observe the countdown. A new bidder had upped him by chump change, so Dean added $100 to his bid.

"There, that should discourage-" He gasped as he felt a hand snake down to brush over his dick, encased in cotton sweatpants. "Caaaasss…"

Cas licked over the back of Dean’s ear, and growled into it. “Just a little distraction until you’ve won the whale for me.”

Dean bucked up into Cas's tightening grip. "Dammit, Cas! You know this isn't fair," he whined. This wasn't the first time Cas had pulled this kind of move, but damn was it always a wild ride.

“Concentrate on the screen, Dean.” Cas said, as if it was that easy. Then, just to add a little more torture, he slipped his other hand up under Dean’s shirt, and found one of his nipples with his fingers.

"Easy for you to say, you toppy asshole," Dean grumbled. But he stayed focused on the bids, not because Cas told him to - at least, not solely because of that - but because he really wanted to see Cas's face when they won.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Cas breathed heavily behind him, and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the back of his neck.

His angel upped the torture by slipping his hand into his pants. Dean moaned at the brush of calloused fingers on his cock. "Cas, please?"

“Please what?” he asked, as he began to stroke agonisingly slowly.

"Oh, shit, Cas, please?" Dean rambled, as Cas's strokes got firmer and faster. "Wanna come for you. Spill into your hand, see my come all over those beautiful fingers. Wanna feel you inside me so bad, baby. Please, fuck, pleeease!"

Dean felt Cas shudder behind him; his resolve obviously weakening. “Patience… I’ll make this so good for you once the bidding is over.” His actions didn’t quite match his words, however, as his grip became a little firmer.

"Unh, I hate you so much right now," Dean grunted and turned to nip at Cas's jaw.

“Yeah, that’s right. Get angry… it’ll be so much better when you get your release,” Cas purred. A sudden gasp was accompanied by a loosening of his hold on Dean. “What’s that on the screen? Has someone outbid you?”

Dean turned back to the screen to see the bid now five dollars higher. "Oh, like hell! I need that for my angel.” Dean bid another hundred and glanced at the clock. Three more minutes. He'd be damned if he was going to lose this.

“Focus… we must focus on the task, Dean.” Cas tightened his hold again, and started to stroke once more, and now he was adding a series of little kisses to the backs of Dean’s ears and his neck.

"Fuck, you're killing me, Cas!" Dean's hips thrust up to meet Cas's hand. "Don't you dare fucking stop, 'k?"

“I won’t stop until the clock does,” Cas panted, and grinded the lower half of his body against Dean’s. He was obviously as affected by this little game as Dean was.

With less than a minute left on the clock, there was another increase to the bid. "Oh, fuck that, you sonuvabitch!" Dean typed a much larger number in the window, then reached back with his other hand and tangled his fingers in Cas's hair.

At three seconds, he submitted his final bid - a thousand higher than before; Mr. Robert Plant and Visa could afford it - and waited for the results.

“Two… “ Cas said, as he gave the firmest stroke yet. “One…” firmer still. “Zero… come for me, Dean.”

Fingers tugging at Cas's hair, and hips rocking up to meet each stroke, Dean came hard, adrenaline pumping through him. He glanced back to see Cas staring at the screen in triumph. Sexy bastard.

“You’re so good to me, Dean,” Cas moaned, his groin grinding harder against Dean. “I want…”

"Fuck me, angel. You know you want to. Want it so bad, baby," Dean taunted, hoping for a grade A victory celebration - confetti, parade, fucking fireworks... all of it.

Cas groaned, and Dean could feel him fumbling to undo his zipper. “Lube, now… and get rid of the laptop, and your pants.”

Dean shoved the laptop to the edge of the bed and grabbed the Astroglide out of the drawer. He struggled out of his pants, eager for the pounding he knew his angel was about to give him.

He handed Cas the bottle and heard him flip the top. “What position do you want it?” he asked… He might like to take charge, but he always wanted to make sure Dean was comfortable too.

"Just fuck me, Cas! I need you inside me, yesterday," Dean begged.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Cas commanded then; Dean had given him the green light to take what he wanted. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

Dean whined, "Please, inside me. Now, sweetheart, please?"

“You’re very impatient today, aren’t you?” Cas growled. “I think winning the bid has brought out your baser instincts.” He pushed Dean over onto his stomach and he immediately felt a lubed finger breach his hole. “Mmmm… so tight for me.”

He hated and loved it when Cas teased him like this. "More, Cas, I need you so bad…"

“You’re a very needy hunter,” Cas said, thrusting in and out, but still using only one finger. “I would make you wait for it, but you’ve been so good for me, I think I’ll take what you want to give me.”

Cas had obviously lowered his head, as Dean felt his breath on his cheek, before the brief pain of a little bite.

Dean moaned in pleasure. "I'm ready, Cas. Just do it," he begged greedily, needing to feel his angel filling him.

Instead of feeling that delicious cock pushing inside him, Cas added another finger, and thrust it in roughly alongside the first. “You like that, don’t you?”

Groaning, Dean replied, "Yes! You know I do. Caaassss…" He gave in, accepting that his angel was going to edge him again, but totally willing to play hard ball. "Mmm, more… want all of you, love."

“Oh, Dean,” Cas moaned; Dean knew exactly how to push his buttons. He’d clearly had enough of making Dean wait now, and after removing his fingers Dean felt the head of Cas's cock being pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck, Cas! You always feel so good." He panted as that thickness penetrated him, slowly and exquisitely filling him. Dean tangled his fingers in the sheets, and muffled his moans in the pillow, pushing back to meet Cas's hips.

Cas started picking up the pace then; slamming in, then pulling almost all the way out, before slamming in again. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the gasps and moans of the lovers, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Cas changed the angle of his thrusts and hit Dean’s prostate, making him groan loudly.

"Oh, yes, right there! Cas, please don't stop, baby? Please, I need you so bad," Dean begged, like his life depended on it.

Cas slipped his hand around to Dean’s front and encircled his cock with his fingers. Despite Dean having come already today, he knew it wouldn’t take much to get him to orgasm again; especially the way Cas was hammering his prostate.

He clenched down, tightening around Cas's dick, making the angel moan, and demanded, "Give it to me, love."

“I. Love. You. Dean.” Cas gritted out, punctuating every word with a thrust, seemingly going impossibly deeper each time. “I-I’m going to…” Cas came with a groan, holding tightly onto Dean’s hips as he finished.

Cas orgasming had become Dean's favorite kink, and he followed behind, shouting out his release. "Love you so much, sunshine! Fuck, do I love you!"

He collapsed to the bed, Cas on top of him, just where Dean wanted him.

Cas wasn’t ready to pull out yet; he stayed like that as they both got their breathing under control again. Eventually, he lifted his head and kissed along Dean’s spine, saying, “I can’t wait to see my whale plushie. Thank you for winning it for me.”

Dammit, the angel could still make him blush. "Anything for you, sunshine." He snuggled down under Cas's weight and sighed in contentment.

Eventually, Cas got too heavy and his cock softened and slipped out of Dean's hole. "Plug me?"

Cas reached over to Dean’s night table and opened the drawer. He was obviously trying to choose from the collection of plugs - thankfully not as large a collection as the plushies - but finally he picked one and brought it to Dean’s waiting hole.

The one he’d chosen wasn’t too large, and Cas slipped it in without any resistance, then sat up on his haunches and admired the view. “Beautiful,” he said, running his hand over the swell of Dean’s ass.

Dean didn't have to tell Cas how much he loved it when he left his come inside him. They'd fucked in every position Dean had ever imagined, and some he didn't know existed. It hadn't taken long for them both to realize Cas inside him in any form prolonged the pleasure.

"You're the best. I love you more than pie."

Cas laid back down beside Dean, giving him one of his extra special smiles; one that made his whole face light up, almost as if he was glowing. “That is the sweetest compliment you’ve ever given me.”

Dean curled into Cas's arms and kissed his left pectoral, over his heart. Nuzzling into his side, he let out a little hum of happiness and held his love tight.

***

Despite Sam’s attempt to curb Dean and Cas’s excessive plushie buying, a new one had been delivered to the bunker earlier that day. He had heard Cas’s exclamations of delight when he opened it (he had, unfortunately, also heard some of Cas’s appreciation for Dean when the item was purchased). Ugh!

Dean hadn’t been able to tell Sam how many stuffed animals Cas had - not even a ballpark figure - but his curiosity was piqued. He would just have to investigate, and find out for himself.

There was no sound coming from Dean and Cas’s room, so Sam easily slipped past it unnoticed. When he reached the door of Cas’s old room, he turned the handle to open it, and was surprised to find some resistance. He pushed harder against the door, and with a creaking sound it shifted, but it seemed to have dislodged something.

That something turned out to be somethings. With a rumble the entire collection of plushies crashed down on top of Sam, and he found himself on the floor, dazed and wondering what had happened.

Scrabbling off the floor, plushies basically raining off him, Sam stormed off to have it out with his brother and the angel; having so many stuffed animals that they filled an entire room was ridiculous. Opening the door without knocking, he was greeted by the sight of Dean and Cas fast asleep in bed.

How sweet , he thought, as he walked back along the hallway, picked up an armful of the furry little creatures, and carried them back to Dean and Cas’s room.

He let all the plushies hail down on their peaceful, innocent, sleeping faces before he stated, “We need to talk.”

The startled reaction of both of them was gold.

Dean sat up and ran his hand over his hair, clearly having no idea what was going on. He blinked up at Sam in confusion, and yawned.

Cas snapped out of his stupor a lot quicker than Dean did, and he looked around forlornly at the toys that were now strewn about the bed. “Sam? Why did you throw my plushies at us?”

"Because you two have a problem that we need to address. This is an intervention." Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Your whole room is filled with stuffed animals. It is ridiculous. This is totally getting out of hand!"

Cas frowned, and picked up one of the plushies from the bed. It was a koala, and Cas smoothed its ruffled fur. “But they’re so cute. Look at it, Sam.” He held it up, making puppy dog eyes as he did so.

Sam didn't fall for it. He wasn't his brother. "I don't care how cute they are. An entire room, Cas! I opened your door and there was an avalanche. An actual avalanche of plushies. Enough is enough!"

“I… oh.” Cas’s face fell and he glanced at Dean, who now seemed to be fully awake.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go poking your nose into other people’s rooms,” Dean said defiantly.

Sam dignified that with his bitch face. "That doesn't change my point, Dean. I said avalanche. A-va-lanche of plushies. Look," Sam sighed as he carded a hair strand out of his face. "I didn't complain about the plushies I accidentally sat on in the library or in the Dean cave, nor did I complain about the dinosaur and duckling on the backseat of the Impala. I also didn't complain when plushies started to show up in the kitchen... falling into my breakfast... But Dean, an avalanche! It's just too much."

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realise.” Cas looked like he might actually cry. “I promise I will stop.” He laid his head back down on the pillow and sighed sadly.

“Happy now?” Dean scowled at his brother and pulled Cas into a hug.

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t want to upset Cas but this had to stop. “I’m sorry, Cas. But this is just too much.”

Dean made a gesture with his hand for Sam to run along, and to be honest, it was amazing it wasn’t a rude gesture, considering what had just taken place.

Sam turned around and left the two of them, hoping he had put a stop to this. They must see that this was getting out of hand, right?

…. :::: :::: ….

Since Sam’s plushie intervention Cas had kept to his word. He hadn’t bought any more, and he’d stopped Dean from buying them too. When Dean had mentioned Christmas, Cas had firmly but sadly told him that he wanted anything but a plushie as a gift.

And although he had stuck to that promise, he felt sad. Because this was it.

He hadn't told Dean or Sam what his reasoning behind having all those plushies had been. Although they knew he gave names of fallen friends and allies to those plushies... they weren't aware why he was doing it.

Cas still carried the guilt of every angel he had killed back when he had been under the control of the Leviathans. It had been thousands. Angels Dean and Sam had never met, but Cas had spent millions of years in Heaven with.

He had a list. It wasn't written down but in his head, reminding him like an engraved wall of every one of his fallen brethren.

And even though Sam described his plush collection as an 'avalanche of plushies' they still weren't enough. He wanted every name on that list be represented in his life.

For some reason, he needed this. Because if they gave those plushies their names, he was able to talk to them. In some way… maybe it worked for him like a cemetary. A place where humans could go and find comfort in talking with their lost loved ones.

There were still so many names on that list, so many angels he wanted to talk to. Who he wanted to apologize to. Or maybe just tell them goodbye.

He noticed that Sam was giving him worried looks throughout the weeks, asking him if he was okay. He assured him that everything was fine, although it was a big lie.

Christmas morning was coming, and Cas wasn’t feeling any better. He sat thoughtfully next to the Christmas tree as Sam handed him two packages wrapped in old newspaper. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Cas gave him a smile that he hoped conveyed gratitude, even though he wasn’t sure he would like what Sam had given him.

He carefully opened the smaller package first, finding a colourful pair of socks, decorated with bees. It was really thoughtful, and he held them up to show Dean.

“They’re very you,” Dean chuckled. Turning to his brother, he said, “Nice one, Sammy.”

Sam grinned at them and took a sip of his coffee. “Open the other one. I think you'll love it.”

The package was box shaped, and Cas wondered what it could be. A book? Another item of clothing? He unwrapped it carefully, and sure enough it was a box. Peeling off the tape, he was astonished… delighted to see a plushie! It was a unicorn, and its tail and horn were rainbow coloured. “Sam? You… thank you.”

He clutched it to his chest, feeling the prickle of happy tears in his eyes.

“Dude,” he heard Dean say from beside him. “That’s awesome.”

Cas wasn’t sure if that comment was directed at him or Sam, but he was too happy to care at that moment.

Sam cleared his throat, “Yeah, man, look… You were so down the last couple of weeks… I just… It’s alright. If those plushies make you happy, who am I to stand against it.”

Cas jumped up and hugged Sam tenderly. “You don’t know how much this means to me. And I will try not to cause anymore avalanches with my collection.”

He felt Dean’s arms around them both, and although he was being squished, he couldn’t have been happier.

The End

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition part 2)

(part 1)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

i don’t know why i’m such a ho for stories where dean thinks cas hates him, but cas secretly adores him and is just a little “rusty” on his “people skills.” i’m also a ho for stories where dean is a gd skilled genius but his dumb ass still thinks his work sucks and/or anything good is due to other people instead of himself. and also, heat boning. 

Confessions of a Cam Boy by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)

Dean runs a cam show to pay his way through marketing school, but he's about to start an internship that he doesn't know will change his life. Watching Dean's show is Castiel's favorite way to wind down after a stressful day at Sandover Bridge & Iron. When Cas comes to work one day and finds his favorite cam boy setting coffee on his desk, he is completely thrown. Will Dean finish his internship without knowing his favorite viewer is his new boss, or will he be able to see through Cas' non-existent poker face and figure it out?

omg poor cas is soooo awkward and dean is weirded out about how much his new boss seems to dislike him and then it’s super sexy >:) 

For Science by shiphitsthefan

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

everyone is such adorable nerds in this one. it’s a fic about rimming, but it’s also about love and discovering yourself and acceptance. it explores cas’s realization through his connection with dean that he’s not straight up ace but more grey/demi - and that doesn’t mean he was “faking” being ace up until he met dean. 

Friends with Benefits with Tentacles by andimeantittosting (Saylee)

Dean's never been embarrassed about his porn collection before, but that was before he found Cas holding his prized copy of Sweet Princess Asuka and the Tentacles of Pleasure. Dean finds himself sweating bullets—because this is Cas, sweet, nerdy Cas. Cas, his friend. Cas, his roommate. Cas, his—only slightly out-of-control—crush.

Cas, with his big, blue eyes and muscular arms and perpetual sex hair.

Cas, with his tentacles.

The last thing he expects is for Cas to suggest they experiment together.

there are not enough tentacle fics out there and i 100000% approve of this addition to the tag. i love that dean is out there legitimately studying porn, and the tentacles are obviously super fun, and there were parts where my heart hurt so bad, all around a damn fine fic. 

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

i LOVE this fic (series). i feel so hard for dean feeling like he’s too old for his life to still be a mess, but i also felt sad for him that he thought he had to make all these hardcore changes - basically turn himself into a different person - to be worthy of cas’s attentions. i fucking adore cas in this, and i nearly cried just thinking about all the damn peppers they eat, and i want to read it again right now. 

If I Run by Anonymous

"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need."

***

Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.

i really really love this fic and reread it pretty often tbh. it only became “anonymous” pretty recently and i’m so curious about why!! regardless, this fic is a really great time!!! 

It's Always More Than Once (Before It Takes) by squeemonster

The first time it happens, it's because of boredom. Or, at least that's what Dean tells himself to justify it. Boredom and Dean Winchester are a dangerous combination, especially when you factor in beer, a raging libido, and laziness.

dean: my dudes, is it gay to do sexy stuff with your male bff? cuz i’m totally straight. but also, having sex with my male bff. 

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

you know how sometimes you read a fic, and it takes ages to get yourself out of that world? even though you’re finished, you’re still right there with him? this is one of those fics. i reread it a couple weeks ago and fell asleep thinking about it last night. i cry a lot reading this one. 

Living in Agony by ChasingRabbits

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

there aren’t a lot of stories that deal with themes of mental illness, and a lot of them read like an episode of degrassi where everything wraps up in 30min to never be discussed again. this story is honest in that there’s no easy out. there’s medication and therapy and supportive people, but that’s not always enough. it’s a story about how you don’t have to be mentally ill to be fucked up, and while people can’t fix each other, they can help each other. content note: references to a pre-story suicide attempt. 

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

y’all know @jemariel is a gd genius, but i’m particularly obsessed with their fics that use abo to explore queer identify & experiences. i hold my breath reading most of this fic and also cry. 

Steal my Breath by Sincestiel

“Tighter, Dean, please,” Cas urges throwing his head back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean squeezes. He doesn’t know why Cas wants this or even what the appeal is, but he always comes harder when he’s struggling to breathe.

what’s on the tin. a quick lil breathplay fic that is thoroughly enjoyable. 

Unsolicited by Dangerousnotbroken

In which Dean Winchester gets an unsolicited dick pic from an unknown sender which is both totally not disappointing in that it's a really nice dick pic, and incredibly disappointing in that it's clearly a downloaded picture of his favorite porn star.

There's absolutely no way it's actually this porn star sending it to him, right?

Right?

this is a destiel classic and i feel like anyone who isn’t new here has probably read it. but here’s your reminder that this is a great fic and you should (re)read it. 

Wordplay by Dangerousnotbroken @dangerousnotbroken​

“I don’t understand why talking dirty is such a big deal for you humans,” Cas complains, apropos of nothing.

it’s a “cas learning about sex” and also dirty talk, which are both things i’m really into!! and DNB is a genius so that’s even better. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

[destiel-love-forever]

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

"How about combine #14 Pretend Dating and #29 “Just shut up and kiss me already.” - Adoptdon’tshoppets) ** I added some bedsharing into this because I couldn’t help myself

Castiel has to go to yet another Thanksgiving with his parents/family who think he's not living up to his potential. He begs his best friend/roommate of eight years (who just so happens to be the man he loves.... and straight) to come with him for the weekend. The catch? Castiel wants him to pretend to be in a relationship with him to get his parents off his back....

Will Castiel survive the weekend?

Will Dean be able to continue denying his not so straight feelings towards his best friend?

READ BELOW OR ON AO3 HERE: JUST SHUT UP & KISS ME ALREADY

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

When Dean finishes laughing, he wipes tears from his eyes and looks at his best friend. His smile slips when he sees that Castiel isn't happy. At all. In fact, Castiel looks devastated. 

"Wait, you're serious?" Dean asks in shock. 

Castiel's face turns bright red. "Yes. It's just… my family is a lot to handle. And they've been on me for years to find someone. It'll be an entire weekend of them making me feel like shit. I just thought it'd be easier to bring you and pretend. But you're right. That's- that would be stupid. I shouldn't have asked, Dean. I'm - I'm sorry." 

"No, no Cas, wait! I just thought you were fucking with me. We can - I mean - sure. Why not, right? It's not like we have to fuck. I don't have to pretend to like you, so it'll be easy.”

Castiel perks up, eyes going wide. "You don't have to pretend?"

"Of course not." Dean grins at him. "You're my best friend, man."

"Oh. Right. Of course. Me too - I - me too. For not having to pretend. Because of the best friend thing." Castiel has to look away from Dean, focusing instead on the plant in the corner. "We leave tomorrow then. Pack a suit."

“A suit?” Dean asks in confusion. “Isn’t it just Thanksgiving at your house?”

Castiel laughs. “No holiday is just a holiday at the Novak’s. Trust me. Bring a suit.”

"Alright." 

Dean starts to laugh and Castiel looks back at him, lifting an eyebrow in question. "What?" 

"Nothin'. Just picturing myself pretending to be gay. I'm gonna rock it. Don't worry, Cas. They'll never know I'm not into dick."

Feeling his face flush and his eyes burn, Castiel forces a fragile smile and nods once. "I know, Dean. You'll be perfect. You always are."

Dean doesn't notice that Castiel is talking about something much bigger than this. It doesn't matter, though. Castiel knew better than to fall in love with a straight man, but he did so anyway. This is his punishment. 72 hours pretending to be in a happy relationship with the man he loves… his straight best friend. 

---------

Castiel stands in front of the house, feet seemingly glued to the sidewalk. Shifting his duffel bag over his shoulder, Dean looks between his best friend and the house, finally asking, “Is this it?”

“Yup.”

“Are we expecting one of those groups of people that come out with chairs and you get to sit on it and they carry you inside? Because I’m pretty sure that’s like a Jewish thing, and you aren’t Jewish.”

The smile Castiel gives him is full of anxiety, nowhere near what it usually is. Dean has an uncanny talent at making Castiel Novak smile or laugh in the worst of situations, but it’s not working. Shit. It’s not working. How does he help, then? Other than his humor? Dean’s sarcasm and jokes are supposed to work. They’re what he hides behind. 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean says in a soft - hopefully comforting - voice, “Everything will be alright, Cas. You said they’re not that bad, right?”

“Right. Just extremely judgemental, with high expectations that set you up to fail, while all skilled at the art of passive aggressiveness.” Castiel finally looks Dean in the eyes, this time his smile so sad it breaks Dean’s heart. “It will be alright. I know. Just - I’m just trying to get the energy.”

“Take your time.”

Just as Dean is saying this, the front door is opening and a woman in a pristine form-fitting white dress and black heels calls, “Whatever do you think you’re doing out here, Castiel? The neighbors probably think you’ve gone insane. Get inside! It’s freezing.”

Releasing a deep sigh, Castiel steps forward. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he mumbles to himself. He startles when Dean slips his hand in his, big blue eyes looking up at him in shock. Then he must remember that they’re in a fake relationship because he squeezes back in thanks and smiles a genuine smile. The first one since they arrived. 

Alright, if humor won’t work, then Dean will do this. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend. Dean will touch Castiel constantly, in one way or another, and never leave his side. 

--------

“So, Dean. You and Castiel have been friends for quite a while, right?” Mrs. Novak says with a clearly fake smile, eyes narrowed in on him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean smiles at Castiel, reaching beneath the table and touching his knee. Castiel doesn’t understand why he keeps doing that. Touching him. Always fucking touching him. Can’t he tell he sets Castiel’s body on fire every time his fingertips brush him? “Roommates freshman year. I think I met you when he moved into the dorm, ma’am.”

“Ah. Yes.” She smirks as she reaches for her glass of wine. “The boy with the posters.”

If Dean catches onto that being an insult, he doesn’t show it. Before he can respond to Castiel’s mom, though, Castiel’s father steps in. “What was it that you were majoring in again, Mr. Winchester? Do you work?”

Castiel wants to roll his eyes but refrains. 

“Biomedical Engineering, sir,” Dean answers. “I am currently heading a team to work on artificial organ development.”

“Impressive. It’s always good when someone gets a practically degree,” Castiel’s father says casually. 

“Yes,” his mother agrees. “A degree with an actual career. You’re very smart, Dean. Lucifer and Michael are both doctors. Have you spoken to them?” she asks, gesturing to the two brothers to Dean’s left. 

Lucifer looks at Dean with a judgemental eye scan. “We’ll have to discuss the work you’re doing over some scotch and cigars after dessert.”

One look at Dean, and Castiel knows he wants so badly to tell Lucifer he’s more of a beer and cigarettes kind of guy, but Dean says nothing. He just gives Lucifer a curt nod and takes a drink of his wine that Castiel knows he hates, because Dean winces after every sip.

“And Anna,” his mother adds, gesturing to Castiel’s only sister. “She’s in law school. And Gabriel is pursuing a phD.”

Dean squeezes Castiel’s knee without looking at him. “Castiel is working on his second novel. Has he told you about it?”

“Mmm,” Castiel’s mother says, flicking her eyes at her son in disgust. “Yes. Well. Brave of him, after the first one.”

“The first one did well,” Dean defends.

“Yes. You’re right, Dean. For a man just starting out, I suppose it did fine.”

“Actually-” Dean starts, but Castiel jumps in before his best friend of eight years throws himself on the train tracks to defend him. “Mother, the meal was lovely.”

His mother gives him a sickly sweet smile. “Yes, well, it’s all Greta could do with all of her preparations for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“Castiel,” Mr. Novak says abruptly. “Have you thought anymore about how you’ll be using your trust fund?”

“I already told you, father,” Castiel nearly growls. “I’m donating it.”

“Of course. Yes. Taking care of those who are too lazy to take care of themselves.” His father scoffs. “My liberal son. Pride and joy.”

Gabriel groans from the other side of the table where Castiel has been watching him sneak bites of the dessert while everyone was too distracted being assholes with fake smiles. “Politics is where I draw the line. Can we all just stop talking about jobs and views and money? Let’s have dessert. Doesn’t it look delicious?”

Everyone, even Castiel’s parents, smiles fondly at Gabriel. The middle child who has no pressure on him for some reason Castiel’s never understood. Gabriel changed majors like outfits. Slept around. Took two extra years to graduate. Got arrested in Mexico once and needed their father to help get him back here and free of any charges. His phD? It’s in fucking philosophy. 

Castiel sinks back in his chair and takes a deep breath as the dessert begins to get dished out. It’s then that he realizes that Dean still has his hand on Castiel’s leg, skimming his thumb back and forth along his jeans. Tentatively, Castiel places his hand over Dean’s. Their fingers slot together and Castiel hasn't felt so grounded, so safe, in a long time. 

--------

 "You can have the bed," Castiel says softly, looking completely drained. "I'll sleep on the floor." 

Dean rolls his eyes as he starts to unbuckle his belt. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll sleep with me."

Castiel's eyes track Dean's every move, something he hasn't done in years. Dean knows Castiel always found him attractive, but Castiel stopped looking at Dean like he is now once he found out Dean's straight. Then they became best friends. He barely looks at Dean at all anymore, always paying attention to the world instead. 

Before, it had made Dean uncomfortable. He would always turn his back. Undress quickly. Jump under the covers.

Not anymore. 

Dean kind of likes it. He refuses to analyze why. 

Instead, he focuses on taking his time. Stepping out of his jeans and slowly reaching behind his head to grab his shirt, Dean looks at Castiel again. Their eyes meet. Castiel's hands are paused in the middle of unbuttoning his cardigan, his smooth pale chest and stomach exposed to Dean's gaze. Dean has been dragging him to the gym to keep him from sitting at home too much. He didn't do it with the intention of making Castiel look any better, because Castiel always looks good - not like… in a gay way - but Dean finds himself appreciating the view now. 

Why does he feel like this looking at Castiel? Sure, he's had these urges before. Ever since he met him even. But they were always explainable. Like when Dean walked in on Castiel watching porn and jacking off, and Dean had to force himself to leave instead of offering help - something completely justified because porn makes anyone horny, right? So of course he hesitated. Porn is distracting. Hot. Other times, the pull comes when they're drunk - clearly Dean's inhibitions are lowered and his mind isn't thinking clearly. There was the one time, when Castiel got this douchebag boyfriend and Dean found him screaming in Castiel's face one night, Dean beat the shit out of him and then looked at Castiel whose face was covered in tears and told him he deserved better - but that was just Dean being protective of his best friend. Sometimes it's really late at night, when Dean can't sleep and Castiel keeps him company - but that's because of Dean's exhaustion, that's all. Sometimes it-

Dean looks away from Castiel and hurries to pull his shirt over his head, hiding his face as the realization hits him. He feels like this too often. All the fucking time. What does that mean? Why does he want to slam Castiel against the wall and fuck him right now? Why does he want to lay him down on that bed and give him comforting kisses? 

---------

If Castiel didn't know better, he'd think Dean was checking him out. Of course, after 8 years, he knows better. Dean's straight. Even if Castiel sometimes feels like Dean wants him, like when he walked in on Castiel masturbating that one time and stared in awe as he licked his lips, or when they go out to the bars or parties and they get a little too drunk and Dean gets a little too close, or when Castiel was dating Jason and Dean beat him up for yelling at Castiel and calling him names, and Dean wiped the tears from Castiel's face as he whispered softly about Castiel deserving better, or when Castiel keeps Dean company if Dean has his nightmares and they cuddle without calling it cuddling on the couch, but Castiel knows those times mean nothing. Just wishful thinking, same as right now. 

Castiel climbs into the bed quickly, pulling the covers up to hide his body. He's suddenly regretting his habit of sleeping in boxers. If he tried to wear pjs, Dean would call him out, because Dean knows Castiel can't stand sleeping with clothes on. The downfall of living with the man for 8 years now. Dean knows everything. Except, hopefully, the fact that Castiel is in love with him.

Dean climbs in beside Castiel and if Castiel didn't know better - which, once again, he does - he'd think Dean was closer to him than he needed to be on the big bed. Their bare shoulders press close together and Castiel's body erupts in goosebumps. 

"So, your family," Dean starts.

"Yeah."

"Gabe's cool."

Castiel laughs softly, nodding. "He is."

"I had a beer with him out on the porch while you went off with Anna. From the sound of it, you're more successful and put together than he is." 

"I've never really understood it, but for some reason that doesn't matter to anyone."

"Well, it should." Dean scoffs. "And your book. How can they say that's not good? It was a bestseller, and it was brilliant. Your writing, Cas, it - it's so fucking good. And I'm not saying that out of obligation."

Feeling his face heat up, Castiel looks away from Dean and toward the wall. "I doubt any of them have read it, besides Gabe."

This makes Dean adjust in the bed. Out of curiosity, Castiel looks back at him. He shouldn't have. Dean is up on an elbow, staring down at him with those beautiful green eyes wide. "Seriously? Fuck. I hate them. Family doesn't do this. Doesn't treat you like this."

"It's okay, Dean."

"It's not!"

"Dean." Castiel gently pulls Dean until he's lying down again. They both turn on their sides so they can look at each other in the dim lamp light. "It doesn't matter. I've got my own family. People I can count on and trust. People who love me for me and cheer me on even in the worst of times. Charlie. Chuck. Balthazar. Sam." He pauses, biting his bottom lip, then whispers, "You."

This seems to make Dean feel better because his body relaxes. "Then why did we come instead of going to friendsgiving with everyone?" 

"Because I want Christmas with you guys, and my family would fucking explode if I skipped both."

Dean sighs. Castiel can tell he's frustrated, but Dean also understands. He has his own set of family issues. 

"We'll get through this, Cas. Together. I promise."

"Yeah," Castiel whispers, noticing that Dean just settled his hand on Castiel's hip. His thumb starts doing the stroking thing again. He wants to ask Dean why he's touching him when no one is around to see the show, but he's afraid it would make him stop. When Castiel says, "Together," as a confirmation, his voice is breathy and embarrassing. 

He hopes Dean doesn’t notice. 

---------

Dean wakes up from one of his constant nightmares. He slips out of the bed, not wanting to wake Castiel, and tugs on a pair of sweats. The Novak house is ridiculously huge but he eventually finds his way to the kitchen. Hopefully after a glass of water and maybe a sneak outside for some fresh air, he’ll be able to fall asleep again. It’s wishful thinking. The only way Dean ever falls back asleep after his nightmares is if Castiel talks to him. He always does this thing where he plays with Dean’s hair, speaking in this incredibly smooth voice that sends these waves of calm over Dean. He never even says anything important. Just rambles about things like plot arcs or character development or some article he read about cats. 

The memories make Dean smile, but then an overwhelming surge of panic floods him like it did earlier. Something is happening between him and Castiel. Something that Dean thinks has been happening for years. 

Something Dean can't keep ignoring. 

Just as Dean is taking his water and heading toward the sliding door that leads to the deck out back, he catches movement to his right. He turns his head and comes face to face with Gabriel, Castiel's brother. The man looks quite somber compared to his earlier goofiness. In fact, he might even look angry. 

"Can't sleep?" Gabriel grunts, giving Dean a look Dean has no idea how he earned. 

"Uh. No. Never really can." Dean awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "You?"

"I sleep just fine." Gabriel looks at the doors Dean was obviously about to open. "Mind if I join you?"

Dean wants to say yes because Gabriel looks upset and he's kind of afraid to find out why, but instead he nods and leads the way. The second the doors are closed behind them, Gabriel is stalking toward Dean. 

"Listen up, Winchester. If you're playing a fucking game with him, or if you're just trying out the whole gay thing for funsies, I'll fucking destroy you. He can lie all he wants to everyone else about you two being together for months now and all that bullshit, but he talks to me all the time. I know the real story. And I think you're sick for fucking with his heart like this."

Opening and closing his mouth in shock, Dean manages to sputter out, "What? What story?"

"I know you two are faking Dean. I'm the one that gave him the fucking idea. Except he wasn't supposed to ask you, but apparentally my brother is a masochist." Before Dean can ask him to elaborate, Gabriel continues his rant. "But I saw you with him today. The looks you keep giving him. The touching even when no one is around. That stupid charming smile. He's loved you for 8 years now, and no I don't feel bad about telling you that because it's not like it was a secret, right Dean? You've known. Guys like you always know."

Dean's throat starts to close and his hands shake. This is what he came out here to think about, but he didn't plan to get it shoved down his fucking throat. He can't breathe. 

Gabriel fills the open silence. He's apparentally quite good at that. "Just let the poor guy go if you don't want him, Dean. Stop this."

"I'm not doing anything," Dean finally says, his voice shaky and weak. 

"Come on buddy. Don't pretend you're stupid. You're not."

"I don't-" Dean stops himself. He hangs his head and closes his eyes. "I don't know what to do. What I want. I - I'm not gay."

Gabriel scoffs. "Who the fuck cares? That's a label. Nothing more."

When Dean looks up at him, feeling a confused but desperate hope swelling in his chest, Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Do you love my brother?"

"Yes." It's not even a question. 

"Do you find him attractive?"

"I - yeah."

"Not in the 'oh yeah I'll admit that man is good looking' way but in the 'holy shit he's so fucking hot and beautiful and I need to kiss him' way."

Blushing, Dean looks out at the darkness that should be the yard. Part of him wants to jump into it and let it swallow him whole. The other wants to finally step into the light and tell the fucking truth. To Gabe. To Castiel. To himself. 

"Yeah," he whispers to the darkness. 

"Are you in love with him?" 

Dean closes his eyes. Is he? He's never been before. Always thought he was one of those people that can't. It's supposed to be all crazy butterflies, right? Adrenaline. Intoxicated feelings as you kiss and fuck. Screaming matches in fits of passion. Getting drunk off smiles. Unable to breathe without each other. A rollercoaster. Isn't that what people are always comparing it to?

When Dean thinks of Castiel, he doesn't think of chaos or instability. Dean thinks of soft rain on the roof as they lay together on the couch in the middle of the night. He thinks of safety. Peace. Warmth. Calm. When Dean thinks of Castiel, he thinks of home. 

If it's up to Dean, he thinks that's what love should be like. The lighthouse in the storm. 

"I have to tell him," Dean tells Gabriel. 

"No," Gabriel says quietly. 

It's so unexpected that Dean flinches. "What?"

"Tell him when you get home, Dean."

"Why?"

Gabriel chuckles, but it's dry. "For one? You need to think this over, because I'm serious about the killing you thing. You better fucking be sure before talking to him. And second? Do you really want to do that here? His least favorite place in the damn world? Where you can't, ya know, celebrate? Hell, can't even have a deep conversation about it?"

Dean grits his teeth. Gabriel is right. 

But he's already waited 8 fucking years. 

Dean's not sure he will survive another 24 hours.

-------

Castiel stabs another piece of turkey, causing Dean to jump for the third time beside him. He avoids what he knows is a concerned look from his best friend by focusing on his plate instead. 

"-just saying," his mother continues, as if she can't see Castiel is clearly upset. "The least you could do is be a father. That's useful. What do you do all day? Sit around and read books? Write? Those are hobbies. At least be a stay at home father if you're so set on not having a real career." 

"When I grow a womb," Castiel growls, emphasizing the last syllable with another stabbed piece of turkey. "I'll let you know, mother."

"Well, you could adopt. Or do a surrogate. You have the money, thanks to us of course." His mother turns her fake smile onto Dean. "Do you want children, Dean?" 

Castiel closes his eyes as he feels Dean tense up beside him. For the first time all weekend, Castiel touches Dean first, pushing his crush aside and being a good friend by placing a hand on his thigh. He squeezes once. A silent apology. Dean's hand rests over his, holding him there. 

For a moment, Castiel is back in their apartment, senior year of college. Dean wasted beyond belief, crying with his head in Castiel's lap. Admitting he can't ever be a father. Believing he has too much of John Winchester in his blood to even risk it.

"No, ma'am. I don't think it's in the cards for me," Dean says in a strangled voice. 

"Why not?"

"That's personal, mother," Castiel says through gritted teeth. 

His mother just shrugs. "I just want to make sure it's not a financial thing. You could always keep your trust fund, you know. Use it to make Dean happy."

"God dammit, mother!" Castiel bursts, his fork clattering to the table. He can feel his eyes burning and his throat clogging, so he hurries to choke out what he wants to say before he falls apart. "Dean's going to be happy, okay? Wanna know why? He's not with me. It's all a lie. So don't feel bad for Dean, the poor biomedical engineer who is stuck with your sorry excuse of a son, because he's not. He's free to be with some ambitious blonde bimbo for all I care!"

As he shoves away from the table and storms off, Castiel hears his father barking at him to not speak to his mother like that and come back and apologize. Castiel just scoffs. He tries to slam the door of his bedroom, planning to immediately pack his and Dean's shit so they can go, but something stops the door and the satisfying slam never comes. He turns and finds Dean quietly closing the door instead.

He looks gorgeous in his suit. Castiel has had to keep himself from telling him that all night. Now that he's drunk and clearly not thinking straight, he's worried it might pour out if he opens his mouth, so he keeps it firmly sealed. 

"Thank you," Dean begins, still looking at the door. "You didn't have to do that. I could have handled it." 

Castiel calculates every word, every syllable, before cautiously parting his lips. "You shouldn't have to handle it, Dean. I'm sorry for even making you do this in the first place." 

"Cas-"

"Can we just go?" 

"Yes. Of course." Without another word, Dean begins to pack alongside him. They move together in a comfortable silence that, under the circumstances, shouldn't be able to even exist. That's something he always loved about Dean. His willingness to just be. It's hard to find people like that. People who can settle the storm inside your soul and make it so you can breathe. 

No one tries to stop them. Castiel gets a wink from Gabriel when they pass by with their bags, and he gives him a nod back. They'll see each other in a week or two, Castiel is sure. They'll probably talk on the phone tomorrow. But Castiel won't out Gabriel to his parents. Not when Castiel just raised his status in the family from the black sheep the public enemy number one.

"Where to?" Dean asks when he slides behind the wheel. 

Castiel looks out the window, hoping to hide that he's crying. "Home."

--------

They don't get home until two in the morning. Dean feels dead on his feet, especially since he didn't sleep the night before, but Castiel is more important. The man is a breath away from breaking down. Dean needs to stop him. 

"Bottle of wine and popcorn," Dean instructs when they drop their bags on the floor beside the front door. "I'll turn on Queer Eye."

Castiel smiles softly. "It's late, Dean. You're tired."

"Wait a minute. Mark the calendar. Castiel Novak just turned down an opportunity to watch Queer Eye!" 

"I hate you." Castiel tries to glare at him but it's a pathetic attempt. He ends up dramatically sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiine. One episode. Grab the big blanket from my room, too. It's cold in here."

Five minutes later, they're pressed close together in the middle of the couch - even though there's plenty of room on each side of them - covered in Castiel's huge purple fuzzy blanket, eating popcorn and drinking Moscato. 

Halfway through the episode, just as Antoni is about to teach what sounds like a delicious dessert, Dean pauses it. He can't wait any longer. 

Castiel looks over at him in confusion, and something on Dean's face must give him away because Castiel's body tenses. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you." Dean clears his throat, unsure of where to even start. "I've been thinking about this for longer than I'd like to admit, but I don't know. Just - promise no matter what, we stay friends, okay? I just have to get it off my chest and then we can move on if that's what you want to do."

Instead of looking confused or curious like Dean expected, Castiel looks terrified. His hands tighten around the blanket until his knuckles turn white. "Dean, I'm sorry. I never-"

"No. Wait. Just let me - I need to say it, Cas. Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Castiel whispers, looking ready to cry. "Go ahead."

"I never told you this, but you were the first openly gay person I ever met. In a town like mine growing up, no one would dare come out. So, when we met and we started living together, I was - I dunno. I was curious, I guess? I dunno. It felt so wrong I guess. Not wrong just - shit, this isn't going like I want it to." Dean rakes a hand through his hair. "You were just this thing that everyone told me growing up was bad and to stay away from, but I just couldn't, and not because you were my roommate but because you were like this forbidden fruit. So the first time I - the first time I felt anything, toward you I mean, I thought it was that. Just the allure of the mystery. Fascination."

Castiel shakes his head. "I don't-"

"Let me finish. Please. Just - let me explain."

"Okay."

Dean launches to his feet and begins to pace. "Then we became best friends, and the pull I felt was stronger. But it wasn't sexual. I didn't want to fuck you. I just wanted - fuck, I don't know. I wanted you safe. Happy. I wanted to be the one you came to on the best and the worst days. I told myself it was because we were getting to be like brothers. And whenever it felt like more than that, I rationalized it away. Reasoned with myself. Convinced myself." 

Hoping to gauge how this mess is going so far, Dean pauses, taking in Castiel's features. The man is flushed and slightly trembling, but his brows are raised and his eyes are wide with what is unmistakably hope. 

Please let it be the right kind of hope. 

"I won't go through 8 years, Cas. It would take days, if I'm being honest, because once I admitted it to myself I realized I've been lying for so fucking long. Since the beginning."

"The beginning of what? Lying about what?" Castiel asks, his voice vibrating lower than usual. 

"The beginning of us. And lying to myself about it. About what was really going on. What I was feeling. What I wanted."

"Dean, I don't-"

"I'm in love with you, Cas," Dean blurts, unable to choke it down any longer. Then everything - 8 years worth of things - comes pouring out. "I love the way you say you hate my music but secretly sing along under your breath. I love your hair in the mornings, and your sleepy smile. Your stupid ugly socks. Your books all over the place, usually still open like you just got up mid sentence and never came back. I love that you get into fights with the characters you write. I love that, without fail, you end up reading the entire Harry Potter series every fall, because the pumpkins remind you of that scene in book one, and according to you you can't just read book one and then 'abandon' the characters like that. I love that you will literally throw down and fight anyone who doesn't agree that Faulkner is a brilliant writer. I love that you're always losing or breaking your glasses. What are you on now, since we met, huh? Pair 30? 31?"

"33," Castiel breathes. 

"Exactly." Dean grins. "I love that. I love - I love all of it. I love you. I love-"

"Dean."

Dean's breath catches. Oh no. He's going to stop Dean. Castiel is going to tell him he doesn't feel the same way. 

Gathering himself, Dean meets those familiar blue eyes and whispers, "Yeah?" 

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

[lonelyandlovelorn]

Stood up

Genre: fluff, comfort

Warning: swearing, people are mean

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size fem reader

Summary: As a bigger girl, dating has always been difficult. Thankfully, your favorite protector is there to cheer you up. 

Masterlist

You were pretty excited about your date. The man was no Dean Winchester (the man of your unrealistic dreams), but he was attractive and he seemed nice enough when you met him a couple of nights ago in a bar a little ways from the bunker. It had been a long time since someone had asked you on a date, because apparently a girl with a little more meat on her bones has cooties. You definitely weren’t bitter.

But that didn’t matter now, someone had asked you. And while it wasn’t who you always secretly wanted to ask, it was still exciting. You had put on your most flattering jeans, some cute boots, and a flannel. Hey, it might be a date, but it’s a date at a bar. You were not about to go all out to go for a drink. You were in the process of trying to figure out what to do with your hair when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N? Sammy wanted to know if you wanted to watch a movie or something tonight.” That was a voice you would know anywhere. The gorgeous man that seemed to have walked directly out of one of your fantasies.

Sam and Dean Winchester had found you on a hunt by yourself, fighting some vampires that they had just managed to track down. As a hunter, of course you knew who the Winchesters were. Of course, they were sort of considered the fuckups of the hunting world, but you had always secretly admired them for how far they would go for the ones they love. Not long after meeting them, you became an honorary Winchester. At first, you just helped on the occasional hunt, whenever you were in the area. However, as time went on, you got evicted and the boys loved your company (and your cooking), so you moved into the bunker. You and Sam were the same age, so you had grown very close with him; he was basically your brother. Dean, though. Dean was different. The first time you saw Dean in daylight, without blood and gunk all over him, you thought you had actually died and your version of heaven was just gorgeous men paying attention to you. When you realized that you were not, in fact, dead, you developed a massive crush on the elder Winchester. Thankfully, you had spent a lot of your life liking boys who never looked at you that way, so you weren’t awkward around him.

Coming back to earth, you glanced at Dean in the mirror, as he had come into the room when you didn’t answer right away. “Sorry Dean, spaced out for a second. And I can’t watch a movie tonight, I’ve got a date.” You tried to keep your giddiness to yourself, but judging by Dean’s smile, you weren’t doing a very good job.

“A date?” he asked, after a moment, realizing what you had said. He must have realized that he sounded shocked, because he started talking again. “Not that I’m shocked you have a date, more that you’re going on one? Not like that, it’s just… who’s the guy?”

He looked like he was worried he had offended you. “Don’t worry Dean, I know that’s not what you meant. And the guy is named Ethan, I met him at the bar.” You were still looking at yourself in the mirror, completely unsure what to do with your hair.

“You should leave it down.” You raised an eyebrow at Dean in the mirror as he cleared his throat. “I mean, that’s what you were doing right? Your hair looks nice when it’s down.” He was scratching the back of his head and avoiding your eyes in the mirror. You smiled softly at him and left your hair down.

“Thanks Dean.” You fluffed your hair a little before standing up from your seat in front of the mirror. You had put on very light makeup, because you weren’t exactly skilled with a makeup brush.

Dean glanced you up and down, smiling his approval at your outfit choice. “Nothing better than a woman in a flannel… well, it’s better if she’s just wearing a flannel,” he mused, giving you a wolfish grin. You rolled your eyes at him and lightly smacked his arm.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yep.” You were both laughing at this point. “Well have fun on your date. Do you need a ride?”

“Actually, that would be great, thanks.” You know that you shouldn’t be disappointed that he seemed happy for you that you’re going on a date, but a small part of you had hoped. You knew though, realistically, that you just weren’t his type. Dean Winchester’s type usually involved tight asses and flat tummies, neither of which you had. You sighed quietly to yourself before grabbing your leather jacket and purse, turning to follow him out of the room. His eyes were following you around the room and as you slid on your jacket. You made eye contact, and he turned to leave the room, heading towards the garage. You both climbed in Baby and headed to the bar, lost in your own separate thoughts.

When you pulled up to the bar, Dean said, “Go get him, kiddo. Don’t do anything I would do.” He winked at that. “Call me if you need me, okay?” After you nodded, he let you go with a wave, driving away.

You took a deep breath before heading into the bar. You couldn’t see Ethan anywhere, so you sat down at a booth to wait for him, ordering a drink and scrolling through your phone. After you finished that drink, you realized that he was 20 minutes late. You tried texting him, hoping that he would let you know that he was just running late. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, so you just left it at a text and ordered another drink. About 40 minutes after he was supposed to have shown up, you heard a group of girls at a table next to you giggle a little and you decided you had nothing better to do than listen to them.

You soon regretted the choice to eavesdrop, though, when you realized they were laughing at you.

“Look at the fatty over there. Do you think she got stood up or left here? Maybe she just wants people to feel bad for her.”

You had spent your whole life with people commenting on your weight, from your mother to complete strangers. Everyone always thought it was their right to have an opinion on how the fat stayed on your body. You had grown thick skin from a young age, but these comments following being stood up stung a little.

Letting out a shaky breath, you pulled out your phone and went to your recents. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey sweetheart, why are you calling so soon? Was he really that boring?” You could tell he was laughing a little at the idea of the guy being so incredibly boring that of course you would choose to leave the date. When you didn’t respond right away, Dean sounded worried. “Y/N? Are you there? Are you okay?”

You let out a sad chuckle and said, “Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry about it, but can you come pick me up?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You could hear rustling of him moving around and then him talking to Sam.

“Thanks Dean.” You felt guilty for having him drive back out to the bar so soon.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. See you soon.” With that he hung up and you were left sitting next to the girls who seemed to think a person’s value (and feelings) only mattered when they looked good in a bikini. They also apparently thought that girls who weighed more than 120 lbs couldn’t hear. You decided to just tune them out while you scrolled through twitter. Well, you scrolled until you heard a girl in the group gasp. They all started talking about this super hot guy who had just walked in, so you lazily looked up, certain of who it was.

Dean Winchester’s eyes landed on you, and he walked towards you, ignoring the hot girls trying to get his attention. He slid into the booth across from you and looked at you in concern.

“Was the date really that bad?” he asked, the sympathy clear in his voice.

“The date didn’t happen.” You were humiliated, telling the guy you had fallen for that the one guy who had shown interest in you had stood you up. “He didn’t come.” You couldn’t look at him while you said that.

“That fucker!” You had to look up at him at that, not expecting him to sound angry, especially not on your behalf. “What kind of asshole asks a girl on a date and doesn’t bother to show up?” He somehow seemed more upset than you were. You knew you had to calm him down.

“Dean, it’s okay. It’s not the first time.” That was the wrong thing to say.

“Sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn world, not dicks who do shit like this. Why do you go out with these assholes?”

“It’s not like I get a lot of interest from guys Dean, which means that I pretty much just have a higher chance of him being an ass. I’m used to it, don’t worry about it.” Your intention wasn’t to make him pity you, you just wanted him to move on from this. You were okay, you would move on, so he had to.

He didn’t have anything to say to that right away. In that silence, you both focused on the girls next to you. Once again, a poor decision.

“... believe he sat with her. He’s just so hot, and she’s just…. taking up space. Ugh, I hate when the fatties get the hot guys.”

Your eyes had widened listening to them speak, partially in hurt, but also partially in humiliation. Dean just seemed to be getting angrier. Before you could stop him, he was out of his seat and walking up to the girls. They didn’t seem to notice at first that he was angry, so they all put on what you were sure they thought were sexy faces. However, Dean walked right up to their table, sat down, and started talking.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Aren’t women supposed to support each other? Also, just because you haven’t had a goddamn meal in the last three weeks, that doesn’t make her any less beautiful. Hell, she’s gorgeous, and there is nothing about you better than her. You know why? Because you’re ugly inside. She’ll be beautiful her whole life, and you’ll be ugly middle aged women, completely mediocre and unimportant.” At this point, the whole bar was quiet, and you think you definitely weren’t the only one with a dropped jaw. You didn’t know how to process all of that, and he turned back to you, dropping money on the table to pay for your drinks and grabbing your hand, gently dragging you from the booth and out of the bar.

The car ride was awkward and silent. You didn’t know what to say, you were still trying to process everything. Of course you were hurt after all of this, but you never expected him to go off on anyone. Next to you in the car, he seemed very worked up. Neither of you said anything until the car pulled into the bunker’s garage.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I was just really worked up and angry, and you didn't deserve that.” He looked ashamed of himself and you just couldn’t help it. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, not knowing how to show how grateful you were for his defense. You had to laugh a little when he blushed, avoiding your eyes. When you both composed yourself a little, something was poking at you.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” You couldn’t look at him as you asked, not wanting him to know how much his answer meant to you.

“Are you kidding me?” You knew he didn’t actually mean it. “Sweetheart you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known.” Your gaze swung towards him so fast that you think your neck cracked. “Have you just not noticed the way I look at you? Sam reminds me all the time that I’m not very subtle.” He smiles a little at that.

You furrowed your brow. “But I’m not your type.”

Dean looked incredibly unimpressed. “What do you think my type is?”

“You know….” you waved your hand around, searching for the best thing to say, “hot.”

At this point, Dean blatantly checked you out. “I don’t see your point here. You’re still my type. Also, why do you get to decide my type?”

You were floundering. Where was he going with this? There was no way he liked you, that’s just not how that works. It was impossible. He was the man of your fantasies, not the other way around.

“You really didn’t notice, did you? Damn, even I thought I was obvious. Okay, well, no better time than the present. Y/N, I definitely have the hots for you, and it’s not just for the fact that you’re gorgeous outside. You’re sweet and you take care of us dumbasses, and you’re just a badass. I promise I’m telling you the truth.”

You were staring at him, in complete disbelief. Had you died? You realized you probably hadn’t when he glanced at your lips and started leaning towards you, waiting for you to decide whether you wanted it or not. In a split second, you made the decision and surged forward.

It wasn’t passionate, like you were a few minutes from fucking in the back of the Impala. It was slow and sweet, and he held your cheek in his hand like you were something precious, cared for. You were both lost on the moment, savoring it.

Until Sam walked into the garage, turning on the lights.The moment he saw you two jump away from each other, he laughed and just yelled, “I knew it!’

Dean leaned over to kiss you quickly before jumping out of the Impala to chase his brother for ruining the moment.

[llzehs]

Wrestlemania and Dean Ambrose’s Exit

That was probably the one Wrestlemania where every right person won. Even if WWE did most of the things wrong these last few months, in that one night they gave everyone what they deserved. And I mean superstars.

Seth’s passion and work ethic made him worthy of taking the title off of Lesnar on the grandest stage of them all.

Becky made herself happen, and she earned every bit of honor that she got last night.

Kofi winning means so much. He represents diversity. He’s a hope for people of color. He’s the perfect example of staying true to your craft and passion, and one day you’ll get the recognition you deserve.

Roman got to have the feel good come back moment after having to fight for his life. No one deserve it more than him. He’s been the backbone of this company for these last few years.

Finn got to shine by dipping into the biggest attraction that comes with his name, and he’s got a title which he has deserved for so long. 

Saying all of that, even though I’m happy for these superstars and commend WWE for doing things right even for just one night, I can’t help but feel very bitter and sad that WWE AND the fans never had Dean Ambrose’s back. Despite the fact that he gave his all to this company, in the most professional manner possible. Not one scandal, not one fuck up, no days off, working injured until his injury became so bad he had to have two surgeries, working most matches on the calendar, doing every meet and greet and socializing despite having a shy personality, YET, he was never good enough. For fans or WWE.

Everyone has backed this up that he’s a gem to have in the locker room. He’s a true work horse. A complete professional. I have never heard anyone say a bad thing bout him. Yet when he was the most over member of the WWE locker room post Shield, WWE did their best to sabotage his momentum every single time. When he was finally given the title cuz WWE had no other choice, fans turned on him and blamed him for lame as fuck booking. 

If Dean was an asshole, or arrogant, or selfish, I wouldn’t honestly feel this way. But he deserved to be standing there with his brothers having his own moments. During his whole career while WWE rewarded his Shield mates with multiple moments (which they deserved no doubt), he never even got to have a proper Mania match. He always stepped in and carried this company on his back, but he was paid dust whenever it was time to give him something in return.

I am so glad Dean is done with WWE. As his fan, I strongly feel he was never truly appreciated and always taken forgranted by both the fans and the management. He has given his all to this business unselfishly, and its time he looks out for himself. People who are angry at him for leaving should open their eyes and realize nothing matters more than Dean’s happiness.

Wherever goes Dean Ambrose, I hope he’s appreciated the way he deserve it. WWE still is a company with ton of pros, but maybe its not a proper fit for someone like Dean.

Also no one come at me trying to say he was treated much better than those who never got to be on TV. Dean’s work ethic is not like any normal performer. The superstar of his caliber deserved so much more.