#WHOEVER OWNS SPN NOW HIT ME UP

[type-40-nightingales]

Okay but here me out guys s16 opening

Dean in heaven, pulling up by a house by a lake, he gets out of Baby and walks inside

He tosses the keys on a desk in his bedroom, then looks up. Castiel is standing there.

Dean immediately kisses him. The momment their lips meet Carry On My Wayward Son starts playing.

Dean pushes him back, sliding of Cas's trenchcoat as he does. Cut to black. Cas is meeting the kiss with equal force. Cut to black They fall onto bed. Cut to black. Music cuts

Dean wakes in a cold sweat with Cas's name on his lips. Music starts again

as "don't you cry no more" plays dean holds head in his hands like in the crypt

cut to "Jack" somewhere standing in that one pose and looking on at heaven and earth.

[percyluvr]

sam winchester x fem!witch!reader summary: you're unaware of your witchy heritage, or even the existence of the supernatural, until two hunters come waltzing into your life claiming that you and your mother are witches wc: 9802 warning: pre-bunker era supernatural, violence (not a lot but enough to warrant a warning, i think), not proofread dedicated to my only (i think) pjo + spn moot, skye

“You’re up early, Sammy,” Dean says, looking into the doorway at his brother wiping sweat off his forehead. “And sweaty.”

“Yeah, I went for a jog. You should try it, it’s good for you. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

“Right, no thank you. Sleep is essential to keep looking this good.”

“Alright, man, if you say so,” Sam replies, disgust apparent on his face.

“Whatever. Listen to this,” Dean starts. “A middle-aged woman in Tupelo, Mississippi, was found dead last night with all of her teeth missing, and some freaky ass carving of some horned thing on her chest. Her husband came home and found her lying on the bathroom floor. Apparently she didn’t die until after she made it to the hospital, though, so whoever or whatever did this wanted it to be long and painful.”

“Huh. Sounds creepy.”

“Exactly. So what do you think? Our kind of gig?” Dean asks, fully knowing they were going to go find out either way.

“Yeah, definitely. Y’wanna head out now or get something to eat?”

“I’m hungry as hell. I need a burger before we deal with this.”

“I feel you. Well, not the burger part, but I’m definitely gonna need food before we head out.”

“Let’s hit the town then, see what there is to eat here,” Dean says, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders before walking out the door, Sam following after grabbing his laptop and jacket of his own.

****

After driving for a bit, they find a small, semi-trashy diner.

"I can't believe this is the only decent looking place in this whole town," Dean complains.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in a town with a population below three thousand."

"Right. The food better be good or else I'll be pissed. Give me that menu," he grumpily demanded.

"Their salad looks good."

"Yeah, real funny. I'm gonna get that special edition deluxe baconator," Dean said excitedly, mood immediately improving at the sight of a greasy burger on the menu.

Sam makes a face, about to say something, but is interrupted by the waitress arriving at the table.

"You boys ready to order or do you need more time?" She asks, eyeing Dean.

"Oh, we're ready," Dean flirts.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'll get the, uh, shake it up salad."

"Okay, and for you?" She asks Dean.

"I'll get that deluxe baconator."

"Got it, I'll be back in a sec."

She starts walking away, Dean eyeing her every step of the way.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam asks in disgust.

"Yeah, look at her, dude. Tell me you don't want a piece of that."

"Alright, man, enough. As soon as we finish we're getting right out of here, no flirting."

"Whatever. Don't be jealous you never get laid."

Sam rolls his eyes as the waitress walks over with a salad in one hand and Dean's burger in the other.

"Thank you," Dean says, giving her a wink. Sam sighs exasperatedly for what feels like the six hundredth time today.

"You've got to stop that."

"Stop what? I'm just appreciating the beauties of the world."

"Yeah, I'm ignoring you now. Eat your food so we can go."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean mutters.

Sam ignores him, and proceeds to wolf down his salad.

"Little hungry there?" Dean asks.

"Last time I checked, I was the one that went for a three mile jog this morning, not you, so I'll eat all I want, thanks."

"Just asking, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Whatever, I'm done eating."

Dean wolfs down the rest of his greasy, and in Sam's opinion, disgusting burger, managing to nearly choke on it twice, then stands up and walks toward the counter. He turns around and mouths 'getting her number,' and raises his eyebrows twice at Sam, who just rolls his eyes in response.

Sam shakes his head and walks out to the Impala, assuming that Dean is flirting, with a side of paying for their breakfast.

He opens the shiny black door of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala and sits down on the beige seat, looking out the window at the diner. Moments later, the door opens and Sam sees Dean’s smug smile and a small piece of paper being waved around in the air.

When Dean sits down in his car, he immediately looks at Sam. “And that is how it’s done by a true master of charm,” he boasts, putting the key in the ignition and shifting to reverse.

“Good for you. I can get girls’ numbers too, y’know. I’m not celibate, or whatever crap you call me.”

“Sure, Sammy. Whatever makes you feel better. But if you really think you can get a girl’s number instead of me, you’re mistaken. So, whoever gets the number of the hottest girl wins.”

“That’s stupid, I’m not doing that.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t see. I’m focusing on the case.”

Sam sees Dean smirk in response as they pull out of the parking lot. He clenches his jaw in annoyance.

****

Halfway on the way to Tupelo, Sam asks, “So what do you think we’re looking at here? ‘S not everyday we work a job like this.”

“Honestly? No idea. Not a big fan of the carving on the chest, either. Never seen a symbol like that before.” 

"Great," Sam grumbles, and for the rest of the car ride his thoughts were full of possibilities of what they could be hunting.

****

Four hours later, the Impala rolls into Tupelo, and the first building they see is a fairly decent looking motel, which they decide to spend the night in. After checking into the motel, they carry their bags into the room, immediately grabbing out their fake FBI badges and cheap costume suits.

After quickly changing, they head out to the Impala. “Ready to see every dentist’s nightmare?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, pretty sure that would be you. I can’t remember a day where you didn’t eat some kind of candy or tooth rotting food,” Sam says. “Or even brushed your teeth for that matter.”

“Dude, I brush my teeth.” Sam raises his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right. Your breath smells like a dead person.”

****

Dean parks the Impala in front of a white two-story house in some, as Dean says, stuffy suburban neighborhood. They get out of the car and walk over to the house, Sam knocking on the front door.

A man, the woman's husband, Sam assumes, opens the door.

“Mr. Feezerman, we'd like to talk to you about your wife,” Sam says, flashing his fake badge.

“Thank God the FBI is involved. The cops here have no idea what's going on. Come in,” Mr Feezerman says, gesturing for them to come in.

Dean sits down on the couch, leaving Sam standing next to it.

“Mr. Feezerman, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Go right ahead. It’s upstairs, the second door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Sam says with a little nod of his head.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Sam searches through the drawers for a hex bag, but comes up empty. He moves onto checking the cabinet below the sink, but still nothing. He finally looks in the medicine cabinet and finds a small brown cloth tied together by a leather string.

"Damn it," he grumbles.

He grabs the bag and heads back downstairs after putting it in his pocket.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Dean turn to look at him. Sam gives him a nod indicating his search was successful.

"Alright, that's all, thank you, Mr. Feezerman," Dean says.

****

"Alright, so what are we thinking?" Dean asks.

"Well, based on the hex bag I found, I'm thinking witch. And not some beginner level witchcraft, either, dude. I'm talking ancient witchcraft, warts, wrinkles, and all."

"Awesome," Dean groans.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking it's not just one witch, either. Witches this strong usually form covens to protect themselves."

"Awesome times two," Dean says, furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing.

"Well, what did you get? She have any enemies?"

"Her husband said that her and some of the other prissy ladies were in some sort of book club or whatever he said, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about that waitress from before,” Dean says dreamily.

“Dude, focus.”

“Right, anyways. Apparently, he found out through some lady she was friends with that she was cheating on her husband with one of the other lady’s husbands. Say that five times fast.”

“Sounds complicated, but also like we have some clear suspects.”

“Right. The book club or wine club or whatever it is these trophy wives do with their free time.”

“Dude, chill with the ‘I hate cookie-cutter families’ thing.”

“My bad.”

“You wanna head to the morgue or talk to suspects?”

“I’ll go to the morgue, you talk to suspects. I can’t handle any more of these people.”

“Alright. Did you get any names or addresses?”

“Obviously. This isn’t my first hunt,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, man. Take me to the first house.”

****

When they reach the first house, Sam gets out of the car.

“Meet back here in 30?” Sam asks.

“Uhh, y’know what? I think I’ll come with.” 

“What happened to not being able to handle any more of these people today?”

“Well that is one cougar just begging to be tamed,” Dean says, eyeing up the woman sitting on the porch.

“Disgusting, seriously.”

“Don’t hate the player.”

“Shut up.”

They walk up the pathway and up the stairs. When they reach the porch, the blonde woman gets up from her spot on the swing.

“Hello, boys, how can I help you?” She asks.

“FBI, we have a few questions about Amelia Feezerman,” Dean says, holding up his fake badge.

“Oh, dear. Come inside, then,” she says, leading them inside to the living room.

“So, nice place you got here,” Sam says.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, and before she can continue, Sam hears the pitter-patter of feet on the floor. “Honey, the cookies look delicious. Hopefully you two like chocolate chocolate chip.”

“Oh, I’m not really a sugar pers-“ Sam starts to say, but when he sees the woman standing in front of him, he quickly changes his mind. “But it doesn’t hurt occasionally.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if these cookies went to waste,” you say, winking at him.

“Like mother like daughter, damn,” Dean says under his breath.

Sam elbows him. “Knock it off,” he hissed.

“Before you two leave, let me know how the cookies are,” you say, gaze lingering on Sam before you walk out of the living room and back into the kitchen.

“We will,” Sam says, making ‘goo-goo eyes’, as Dean later calls them, at you.

“Dude, go in there and talk to her, I’ll talk to the mom here,” Dean says lowly to Sam, who nods in response and follows you into the kitchen.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps prompts you to turn around, surprised to see the, in your opinion, cuter agent following you into the kitchen.

“Hello, agent,” you say with a grin.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he shyly responds.

“Well, Sam, what did you think of the cookies?” You ask eagerly.

“They were really good. I’m really a sweets type of person, but you surprised me,” he compliments, the crinkling of his eyes serving as an effect of the wide smile gracing his face. You think that his smile makes him at least five times cuter, but you decide to keep that to yourself, for now at least.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to contribute to the conversion of you into a dessert lover,” you joke, earning another beautiful smile from him.

“So, I’m not exactly here to talk about your cookies, however delicious they may be,” he admits, albeit a bit nervously for someone in the FBI, you think.

You raise an eyebrow. “How can I help you, then?”

“Have you heard about the death of Amelia Feezerman?” Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the cookie you were eating.

“What? Oh my God, no, I had no idea.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t happen to know anything about her death?” He questions.

“Um, no? Why would I know anything about that?” You wearily ask.

“We thought that maybe you would know if there was any reason that anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t really know her all that well. I know that she was in some book club thing with my mom, but that’s about it,” you say, crossing your arms. “Actually, I did hear that she was getting it on with some of her friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sam begins, “wait, plural husbands?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “She’d get with anything that breathes.”

“I see. So do you think any of these women would want to get revenge on her for that?”

“Oh, definitely. Some of these women are vicious. Rich women are some of the craziest people I’ve ever met, so glad I’m only back for three months,” you snicker.

Sam laughs. “So, you in college, then?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my third year, just home for the summer,” you explained.

“Yeah? You enjoying college?”

“Partially, I mean sometimes I miss my mom, but then I remember that visiting her means having to come back here, and I’m over it immediately,” you sheepishly admit.

“Really? It doesn’t seem too bad here, other than the death,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess you haven’t seen how people really are here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess I just mean that people here are petty and would do anything to get back at anyone for the smallest stuff,” you say sadly. “Especially some of my mom’s friends.”

You take the look on Sam’s face as an incentive to continue, “her friends are like, money obsessed, and if any other woman gets close to their husbands, somehow they’re mysteriously gone within the month. It’s kind of freaky, to be honest.”

Sam clenches his jaw as Dean walks into the kitchen.

"You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a second.”

Dean gives him a look, but nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Give me a call if you can think of anything else that might be relevant to the case,” Sam says, handing a card with his FBI phone number on it to you.

“Will do,” you say, winking at him.

****

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asks.

“Well, apparently this isn’t the first time this has happened here. According to her, multiple women go missing every year, all women that have gotten too close to the husbands of these book club ladies.”

“So we’re looking at a coven full of snotty rich women?” Dean complains, shoulders sagging.

“Guess so.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad for you though, Sammy. Don’t think I didn’t see you laying down the nerdy charm in there,” he jokes.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Sam defends. “I was just getting information and she happened to be pretty and conversational.”

“Sure, Sammy, sure.”

****

Before heading back to the motel room, Sam and Dean decide to stop by a restaurant for dinner.

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re gonna get another salad. You need some real food.”

“Like what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure what you eat wouldn’t be classified as ‘real food’ either.”

“It’d be closer to real food than the shit you eat. You eat rabbit food, I eat manly food,” Dean argues.

“‘Manly food?’ How is it manly? It’s just greasy and disgusting. You’re gonna get a clogged artery in like 3 months because of it.”

“Whatever, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to looking at the menu.

Sam’s menu browsing is interrupted by a familiar voice. “Can I get you two started with a drink?” 

He looks up to find you looking somehow just as beautiful in a waitress uniform, looking at him with stars in your eyes and a grin gracing your features.

“Well, hello again, agent. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” you playfully say, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Hey, again. And yeah, I’ll just have a water,” he says.

“Alright, but honestly, I’d get the strawberry lemonade. It’s way better.”

“If you say it’s good, then I’ll give it a try,” he says, smiling coyly.

“Good, so a strawberry lemonade for you,” you start, turning to Dean, “and for you?”

Dean orders his drink, and while they wait for you to return with their drinks, they look at the food on the menus, at least Sam does, until he realizes that Dean is looking at him over his menu with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you and the waitress?”

“Nothing,” Sam says hesitantly. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If a hot girl is hitting on you, take that as a blessing. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?” Dean reminds him, and for once Sam thinks he’s right, only a little bit, though. It had been a while since he even flirted with a girl, and it really couldn’t hurt, could it?

However, his train of thought is interrupted by your presence at the table again. You place each drink in front of them, being extra careful with Sam’s. 

“So, are we ready to order?” You ask.

The boys order, and you jot it down on your notepad before walking away from their table. This time, Sam takes the time to watch the way your hips swing from side to side every time you take a step. All he can think is that you have the most graceful walk he has ever seen in his life, which he then thinks is a little weird, but it’s just like him to notice these small, weird, and typically brushed over details of people.

When you back out of the kitchen doors, a plate in each hand, Sam is still staring. He can’t help thinking how beautiful you are, and how cute the smirk you always seem to have on your face is.

You place the plates down on the table. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” You give Sam a smile that could just as easily be for both him and Dean, but he chooses to believe it was just for him.

Dean smirks. “She’s one hell of a beauty. If you aren’t gonna do anything with that blessing, I will.”

Sam gives him a dramatic look of disgust, but otherwise ignores his comment in favor of eating his sandwich. 

After they finish, Dean heads out to the car, insisting that Sam goes and talks to you. 

He walks up to the counter, money in hand. “Hey.”

You give him a grin. “Hey, there. Enjoy the food?”

“Yeah, it was really good,” he says, sliding you a twenty dollar bill. “That enough?”

You nod. “So, I get off in two hours. If you care, that is.”

He smirks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, if my charms are still working, I would assume that you care. I’m quite pretty, after all.”

“And humble,” he jokes, earning an, in his definitely not biased opinion, adorable giggle from you. “But, yeah. You’re right, I do care.”

“Good, then meet me at the bar across the street. And don’t be late, otherwise I might find another man willing to fall under my spell.” You lean on the counter and give his hand a pat.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I’ll be there.” He smiles and heads out the door, leaving you leaning your head into your palm, grinning like a teenage girl that just made plans with her first boyfriend.

**** 

When Dean sees Sam walking out the door with a smug smile on his face, he can’t help but don a smile of his own. 

Sam opens the car door, greeted by Dean’s all-knowing grin. “So, you got a date tonight?”

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to the bar after she gets off work.” 

“Well, whatever, we finally got you a lady. Make the most of it, but don’t have too much fun. Still have to get rid of these witches.” Sam finds Dean’s advice very out of character, because typically he would tell him to have the time of his life, but he’s too elated to make much out of it.

“I know, man.”

Dean pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the bar, get you a head start to your night of fun. I’ll look into this witch coven.”

“Dude, since when do you want to do the research?” Sam questions.

“Ever since you started getting chicks instead of me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You were hitting on a waitress this morning.”

“Can’t do anything with her number now, so it doesn’t count.”

“You could call it.”

“Nah, not in the area. Not worth driving all the way back for a waitress.” Sam raises an eyebrow but decides not to say anything.

**** 

In the bar, Sam and Dean are sitting at a small round table. Sam is drinking a bottle of beer while sitting across from Dean, who for once for once is not trying to get laid, but is actually researching the case at hand.

“Alright, so get this. These moms meet up at your new girlfriend’s house every Tuesday and Thursday and are there until, like, four in the morning.”

“Where are you getting this information?” Sam asks, using his years of enduring Dean’s teasing to skilfully avoid giving into Dean’s provocation.

“Some noise complaints that have been filed over the past few years.”

“So these are for sure our witches, then,” Sam observes.

“Seems like it,” Dean agrees.

Sam finishes his second beer of the night and grabs one of the files in front of Dean. 

“Alright, so there are four witches in this coven,” Sam reads from the file.

“Do you think the chick you’re meeting is also in it?” Dean asks.

Sam rests his chin on his palm, giving it some thought. He knew that some witches were born with their abilities, and since your mother was a witch, it was likely that you were born as one, but that didn’t necessarily mean that you were in on the killing, or that you even knew that you had powers. He hoped that you weren’t, but he thinks that he also wouldn’t mind it too much if you were. He would never admit it to Dean, but he thought that if you were a witch, it might be pretty cool.

“I don’t think so, she seemed really concerned about the killings and disappearances,” he defends.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for her.”

Sam makes a face. “Yes, I like her, but I’m serious. I don’t think she is.”

“Alright.” Dean puts his hands up as if to say ‘Sorry, please don’t kill me now.’ 

Sam sees you walk in the door, heading straight for the bar. After taking a few more sips out of his new bottle of beer, he gets up out of his chair. Dean gives him a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ look, which he gracefully ignores in favor of sitting on the stool next to you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Hey,” he says giddily, causing you to come to the realization that he’s already at least a bit drunk. 

“So you’re a happy drunk,” you observe.

“Whaaat? I’m not drunk,” he argues.

You give him a knowing smile, but indulge him anyway. “Alright, fine. How’s the case going?”

“‘S good, we have suspects now,” he boasts.

“Yeah? I assume that’s all thanks to your hard work here,” you tease.

He gives you a toothy grin. “You know it.”

The bartender comes over and you order some fruity drink that Sam doesn’t catch the name of. When you get it, Sam asks to try it, which you oblige, of course.

“Wow, that’s good. I want one, too.”

“It is, but is that really a good idea? How many beers have you had already?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Two, but I started on my third.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you can have some more of mine, but don’t drink too much. It’s pretty strong, and we wouldn’t want your partner over there to have to deal with you being too drunk,” you tease.

He frowns. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s bossy,” he groans. “And annoying,” he adds for safe measures.

You give him a comforting smile and a pat on his arm, causing you to realize just how muscular it is, along with the rest of his body. You somehow didn’t notice before, but now that you have, it’s all that’s on your mind.

“Sounds like I’ll have to take you off his hands for the night then, huh?” 

He notices that your hand is still on his arm, causing a light pink to dust his cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So, once you’re done with this case, how long until you leave?”

“It depends. Could be a week, could be the same day we finish the case. For you, though, I’m sure I can arrange staying around for a bit longer,” he suggests.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

“Good, I’ll work it out then,” he states. “You look beautiful, sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“Well, thank you.” You grin, slightly shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you’re definitely not complaining. Looking over Sam’s outfit, you can’t help notice how good he looks in jeans and a flannel. The way the sleeves of his flannel tighten around his arms doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now that you’ve seen how he looks in the basic combination, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think another man looks good in it. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Casual is your look, agent. Not to mention that shirt is doing wonders for your arms,” you compliment, causing a dark blush to appear on his face for the second time tonight.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in embarrassment, clearly not expecting you to have flirted back, and if he did, he definitely didn’t expect you to flirt so blatantly. He’s flustered, and so, he decides to shift the conversation topic off of himself. “So, where do you go to college?”

“Last year I transferred to Stanford, but I went to an in-state college that was far enough away from here before.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, giving you a small smile. “I went to Stanford, too.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was studying to be a lawyer. Until my brother came to my apartment and told me he needed my help looking for our dad, at least” he admits.

“You didn’t finish school?”

“No, but it turned out to be a good thing,” he says, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well. You raise an eyebrow, but in hopes of not upsetting the cute puppy-eyed boy you’d met only hours earlier, ultimately decide against saying anything to contradict his statement. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance to accept his statement.

“I’m glad. Although, I’m sure you could still finish school if you ever wanted to. It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan,” you suggest, laughing internally at the fact that being a Stanford educated lawyer would be his ‘back-up plan.’

“I guess. But I don’t think I could let Dean work all by himself.” The crestfallen expression he has on his face after imagining leaving Dean, paired with his puppy dog eyes is almost too much for you to handle. 

You put your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb across the flannel he was wearing. “You’re a good partner, Sam. He’s lucky to have you.”

A perplexed look flashes across his face until he realizes that you meant they were FBI partners, and he quickly recovers by giving you a small smile. You find yourself unable to think about anything but his gorgeous eyes, sweet smile, and silky hair, causing you to get that warm fuzzy feeling that all your friends describe when talking about their boyfriends, and you feel yourself returning a smile without even trying. It felt almost like a reflex, and you realized that you were developing a crush on the tall, sweet, doe-eyed man. This thought is even further confirmed after Sam puts his large hand over yours, curling his fingers around your significantly smaller ones, causing your heart-rate to pick up.

You don’t even notice the blush appear on your face until you hear Sam’s teasing voice. “Now who’s the one blushing?”

“It’s just the lighting, don’t get all cocky,” you try to defend, to no avail, though, since Sam’s mischievous grin does not falter after hearing your defense.

“If you say so,” Sam says, doing his best not to let a doubtful expression cross his face.

“I do,” you firmly state. A small lull of silence overcomes the conversation, and you search through your brain to search for a new topic to discuss. “You said you have a brother? What’s his name?”

“Uh, about that. Dean is my brother.” Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“No way. You guys are brothers and work together? That’s pretty cool,” you observe.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times he’s a real dick, though.”

“I bet. But he seems pretty nice for the most part.”

“He’s a good guy, he just thinks he has to protect everyone, especially me. He doesn’t realize I can do things on my own. I mean I was in college without him and I did just fine.”

You nod sympathetically, understanding how complex family relationships can be. From there, the conversation flowed smoothly and you felt like you could tell Sam anything without any judgment, leading you to ask, “Would you, uh, want to come over to my house for the night? My mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” As you say it, you feel like you’re in high school all over again, and you start to regret the words as soon as your lips stop moving.

Sam’s eyes widen and he stays quiet, further fueling your regret. For those brief few seconds, your mind races and you worry if you came off too strong or if he simply isn’t interested in you past a drunk conversation and flirting. Luckily, he realizes the look on your face and saves you from any further anxiety. 

“Sure, that sounds good.” Once again, the infamous smile graces his features, cheeks puffing up causing his eyes to crinkle and because not only is his face beautiful, of course his eyes have to be, too. You swear, even if no one else in the whole world agrees, his eyes are so beautiful in that moment that they glimmer.

You beam at him and slip off your stool, grabbing his hand and leading him off to the door. He looks back at Dean to find him already smirking at him. Dean gives him a wink, and for what is probably the millionth time in his life, Sam completely ignores him, focusing on the way you’re eagerly dragging him out of the place and to your car.

****

The next morning, Sam wakes up in a room that is far too nice to be the hotel that he and Dean were staying at, even though they always got the best room. He quickly remembers the events of last night and smiles. Although, his smile fades when he looks next to him to find you nowhere in sight. He rubs his eyes, looking around the room at the posters and decorations that let him peer into a tiny part of your life without worrying if he was overstepping any boundaries. 

He gets out from under the blanket and slips off the side of the bed, walking over to your desk that holds a curious collection of trinkets and a book full of pictures. He’s in the middle of flipping through the book when he hears the creaking of a door opening, and his reflexes have him whipping his head to see where the noise came from. You let out a little giggle when you find his face looking like a little kid that just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He tilts his head as if asking what you were laughing at, but you just shrug, a cheeky grin still on your face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?” 

For a moment, Sam is at a loss of words. “Uh, I was just….” He trails off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Just wondering what you’re looking at.” Your words clearly ease his mind, as he picks up the open photobook and points at the picture he was looking at. You smile as you look at a highschool version of you with some of your friends at a festival. 

“It’s a cute picture. You dyed your hair, though. I almost didn’t realize you were in it at first.”

“Yeah, I figured since I was going to college I should switch it up a bit.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam continues to flip through the pages. You carefully watch his expression change as his eyes move around the pages looking at different moments of your life. He was glad to get even more of a glance into who you were. 

Eventually, he reaches the end of the book and closes it, setting it back down on its rightful place on your desk. He joins you on the bed, sitting an awkward distance away from you, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“What?” He questions, his puppy-dog eyes in full effect again.

“You can come closer, y’know. I don’t bite,” you tease. He blushes, as even more memories of last night flood into his brain. You definitely bit, but apparently only during certain hours of the day.

He scoots closer to you until your shoulders are comfortably pressed together. You take advantage of the proximity and lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, any plans for today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Just stuff for the case. I should probably check my phone.” You nod, and Sam thinks that the divine beauty of the slight raise at the corners of your mouth is unrivaled by any other sight Sam has ever seen, and he has seen almost too much in his short life.

He reaches over to the table next to your bed, trying his best not to move away from you and disturb your peaceful state of simple existence. He turns on his phone, seeing a few texts from Dean with more details on the case. He turns his phone off and decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stay here with you for another hour. You’re surprised by the weight of his head resting on top of yours, but who are you to complain? 

****

Unfortunately, an hour can go by very fast when you’re, as they say, having fun. Watching Sam walk out of your house pulled on a part of your heart that you wish it hadn’t, knowing that Sam would soon be leaving your not so small town and you would more than likely never see him again. You don’t think you would be able to handle not seeing him again, even though the two of you have known each other for less than a mere day. With these thoughts swirling around in your brain, all you can do is give him a small wave when he turns around to look at you one last time before getting into his brother’s ‘67 Impala.

****

“Dude, tell me about your night. Was it the craziest sex you’ve ever had? Is she freaky? Waitresses always are, man.” Dean’s rambles fill Sam’s ears as soon as he closes the door to the old, black car.

“Really? You couldn’t even wait five seconds before you start with this?” Sam complains.

“You haven’t gotten laid in centuries, Sammy, excuse me if I want to know if my little brother had a good time.”

“Shut up.” 

As usual, Dean completely ignores Sam’s protests and continues asking graphic questions about the ‘hot witch waitress’ until they arrive at the house of one of the witches in the coven.

****

Dean knocks on the door of the white two-story house, and within seconds is met with the face of a standard looking middle-aged woman.

“Hello, ma’am, FBI,” Dean says, flashing his fake badge, actions in sync with that of his younger brother.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, but she schools her face back into neutrality quite quickly. “Come on in.” She motions for them to step into the house.

Dean sits down on the large couch in the living room, leaving Sam to remain standing next to it. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Of course, go right ahead. Up the stairs and two doors to the right.”

Sam gives her a grateful smile before he walks out of the living room and heads up the stairs. When he began his search, he had expected to find one hex bag, or maybe even zero, but what he hadn’t expected was three. He raised an eyebrow, assuming that all the others in the coven would have at least coordinated this better, but here he was, looking at three different hex bags.

He quickly grabs them before flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion or potential disgust on the woman’s part if she realized that he hadn’t flushed the toilet. 

Heading back down the stairs, he gives Dean a small nod to indicate his findings and to signal Dean to wrap up his investigation.

“You boys have a good day, good luck with your investigation,” the woman says, closing the door behind them as they walk down the stairs connected to the front porch.

“Dude, there were three hex bags in her bathroom,” Sam says, pulling the bags out of his pocket.

“I thought they only needed one? What’s the point of having more?” Dean inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s more powerful or something.”

Dean made a sound of acknowledgement but said nothing in return. Sam took it as a cue to continue talking.

“So, I was thinking we just wait until a night that they meet up and then ambush.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed.

****

Back at the hotel room, Sam is researching more for the case, just to be safe, while Dean is out grabbing something for them to eat. Sam assumes that he’s gone back to the restaurant you work at so he can grab another glance at you.

Sam is deep into a passage on witchly powers when his phone rings, he assumes it’s Dean, but the small screen shows an unknown number. His eyebrows raise, but he answers the phone nonetheless. 

“Hello? Sam?” A familiar, but shaky voice asks from the phone.

He says your name as if it were a question, to which you quickly say, “Yes, um, sorry to be calling this late but I think there’s someone in my house.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, his whole face tensing up before quickly relaxing again as he prepares to defend the woman that he now found lingering in every crevice of his mind.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Just lock your door and stay in your room, alright?” 

“Okay. Please stay on the phone with me, I’m really scared,” you admit.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” he says, rushing out the door of the hotel room before realizing that Dean was still out getting food. “Shit,” he breathed. However, now he could finally reap the benefits of his daily morning runs.

“What?” 

“Nothing, just a slight change of plans. Just stay calm.” His voice was slightly strained and now sounded more like a moan than actual words, and if you weren’t so damn scared you might have found it sexy.

****

About seven minutes and lots of heavy breaths from Sam’s end of the phone later, Sam was at the front door of your house, gun full of witch-killing bullets ready in one hand, and his small phone in the other. 

“I’m here, you’ll be good if I get off the phone?” He asks, fully ready to somehow manage to find a way to stay on the phone while fighting if you need him to.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Do what you need to do, please,” you say, but he hears the fear in your voice.

“I’ll be done and up there as soon as possible, alright? Don’t worry.”

He hears a small sound of acknowledgement from the other end of the phone before he finally ends the call and goes into the house. He heads straight for the door to the basement that, luckily, he had found when he made his journey to the bathroom the first time he was over at your house. He opens the door and grabs a second gun out of his pocket for safe measures, especially since Dean was nowhere to be found despite Sam’s multiple texts.

He slowly creeps down the stairs, doing his best not to let his weight cause the stairs to creek. Fortunately, he makes it down soundlessly, but is now stuck with the task of creeping through the abnormally large basement without getting cornered by witches.

It takes a few minutes before he finally hears the loud chanting start back up again, and while he knows that he’s probably free to walk as loudly as he wants to, he still keeps up the stealth.

The chanting slowly gets louder, and Sam steadies his arms to shoot both guns. As soon as he sees two figures in the door frame, he pulls the trigger on both, not wanting to risk the chances of them performing some spell on him before he gets a chance to get them first.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that there was still a third member of the coven, and as soon as he turns around, he’s met with the face of your mother, as well as a book harshly hitting his head and rendering him unconscious. 

The next thing he knows, he’s tied up in the same room that he shot the two witches.

“You’re not FBI, you’re hunters,” your mother says, disgust obvious in her voice.

“Like you’re any better. You kill innocent people,” Sam grunts, starting to discreetly rub the rope he was tied up with against the chair to cut it.

“Innocent? Oh, please, no one in this world is innocent, especially not you, and even more so since you’ve involved yourself with my daughter,” she spat.

Sam grimaces. “Oh, yes, I know all about that.” She smirks.

Sam is about to speak, but is interrupted by your voice calling out for him. As your voice grows closer and closer, Sam realizes his progress on the rope is not as fast as he hoped, and if he didn’t hurry up, you’d be in the room before he was free. 

However, to his dismay, you enter the room before he can free his arms, and all that he can think about is how awful it would be to watch you die, especially by the hands of your own mother. The nauseating thought is interrupted by a loud smashing sound that Sam immediately recognizes as a bat to the head. His head shoots up and he sees you, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes glazes over as you realize what you’ve done. 

He finally manages to get the rope holding his hands behind his back cut as you sink down onto your knees and start sobbing. His first reaction is to run over and hold you, asking if you’re okay, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you would want, and there’s no way in hell that he would want to upset you even more.

He settles for walking over to you and kneeling down with one hand on your back rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles on it.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he comforts. “It’ll get better. Just know you had to do this, alright?”

“I know, Sam, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I didn’t even think about it, I just saw you tied up, and that was my first reaction. Am I insane?”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s fine, you’re fine.”

Finally, you turn towards him and collapse into his arms, and though he’s surprised, he catches you and holds you closely and firmly to his chest. The hand that was once on your back is now on your head, comfortingly playing with your hair, and the other is wrapped around your waist as you sob into his shoulder.

****

Hours later, you’ve finally calmed down, and you and Sam are in your living room sitting on your couch, along with Dean, the other FBI agent that had arrived while you were still sobbing, much to your later embarrassment. However, Sam had reassured you that it wasn’t embarrassing, and Dean definitely wouldn’t find it so.

After his reassurance, you could find no trace of embarrassment still lingering in your mind. It was surprising that someone you’d only met a few days ago was able to not only understand you like that, but also manage to diminish your insecurities so easily. You found yourself thinking about how much you and Sam seem to have in common and how easy it is to talk to him. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye you see a small smile on his face. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbles in annoyance, but Sam knows that he’s just faking it. He knows Dean too well to not realize that he really is happy for him.

****

When you wake up the next day you feel a warm presence next to you in your bed. You quickly recognize the presence as Sam, leading you to snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Sam says groggily, his voice breaking you out of the peaceful trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you reply.

Sam gives your arm a small squeeze before sitting up. You mirror his actions, ready to start a conversation, but are interrupted by the loud sound of his phone.

He gives you an apologetic look and grabs his phone to presumably read a text.

“It’s Dean. He has a lead on the case,” he states, to your annoyance.

“That’s good, I think. Would it be wrong for me to ask if I could come with?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at your unexpected request. He stays quiet for a few seconds before replying, “I won’t say no, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So, I have to be honest with you.”

You tilt your head, encouraging him to continue.

“My brother and I aren’t FBI, we’re hunters.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” 

Sam swallows as if to prepare for the words about to leave his mouth.

“Monsters are real. Vampires, ghosts, all of it. My brother and I hunt them.” As the words are leaving his mouth, Sam is suddenly hit with a wave of regret. What if you don’t believe him? What if you think he’s crazy and tell him to leave?

You, on the other hand, were thinking about how happy you were that Sam was comfortable enough with you to tell you about his real life. In the future, Sam would probably laugh about how vast the difference of what was going on in each of your minds, but now, he was taking your silence as negative.

When you saw the worry on Sam’s face, you immediately realized that you’d been sitting in complete silence since he’d admitted the truth about him and his brother. 

“Really?” The one simple word brought Sam joy and relief like no other moment in his life.

“You actually believe me?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean what reason do I have not to? It does sound kind of insane, but I also bashed my mom’s head in with a bat yesterday, so…” You trail off, realizing that once again you’d been using humor as a coping mechanism instead of dealing with your problems.

Sam clears his throat, now feeling very awkward. “Right… About that, are you sure you want to come with? You’ve already been through a lot.”

“It would probably help to get my mind off of it, even if more traumatizing shit ends up happening, too.”

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is.”

**** 

Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the back seat of the infamous black Impala with some old rock song that Dean picked playing.

“Sam, are you sure about bringing her?” Dean asks lowly, as if you couldn’t hear him from your spot right behind him. 

“Yes, Dean. It’s not like we’re leaving her to fend for her own while we go together,” he says exasperatedly.

“If you say so.”

You clear your throat, prompting Sam to turn around and give you an apologetic smile. You return the smile, but the annoyance you feel towards Dean does not dissipate. If anything, you feel it even more so after Sam apologized instead of him.

You decide to ignore it and stay quiet for the rest of the drive.

A few minutes and one rock song later, the Impala pulls into a driveway that you recognize as one of your mom’s friend’s house. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are we here?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Well, Dean, I’m sorry that I didn’t want to overwhelm her,” he sasses.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You brought her on a damn hunt.”

The air in the car suddenly felt awkward and you felt as though you shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. 

“I’m just gonna get out and let you two finish your discussion,” you said quickly before opening the door and walking over to the porch of the house.

As you walked up the stairs, the front door opened, and the face of your old best friend from high school appeared in the doorway. 

She called your name, a big smile adorning her face.

“Lily, hey!” You said, feigning excitement to see the girl after three years.

“It’s been so long! Come inside. My mom is downstairs,” she exclaims, ushering you into the house and nearly slamming the door shut once you’ve entered her house. As soon as you enter the house, a chill runs down your spine and you can’t help but feel nervous about what’s about to happen.

****

You’d been in the house for a few minutes before Sam and Dean had even realized you hadn’t been sitting on the porch the whole time they’d been arguing, and when Sam looked over to see what you were doing, a wave of panic rushed through his whole body.

“Dean, she’s gone.”

“What the hell? See, this is why we shouldn’t have even brought her with us.”

“Dude, whatever, it doesn’t matter, we gotta go find her right now.”

Sam quickly opened the passenger door and rushed out of the car and through the front door.

He opens the door, quickly checking the living room. Nothing. He checks the kitchen and the dining room. Nothing and nothing. He checks all the rooms on the first floor and the second floor, then goes back to the first floor to check again, when he hears Dean calling out to him.

“Sam? Come here, I found a door to a basement or somethin’,” he calls out.

Sam follows the sound of his brother’s gruff voice and finds a door he doesn’t know how he missed. He’s usually thorough about searching, but he finds himself extremely on-edge this time. He thinks it might somehow, maybe, have something to do with his not-so-subtle crush on you, and maybe the thought that losing you would be one of the worst things that has happened to him even though he’s barely known you for five days.

He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind, at least for now, in favor of pushing ahead of Dean and heading down the stairs into the basement.

His mind is now absent of any “lovey-dovey” thoughts of you, but chock full of thoughts about how you could be dead right now. He never should have let you get out of the car and go inside without him. If you were dead, it would be all his fault, and he would never be able to escape the guilt of having another death on his conscience. 

However, with all of these thoughts, the thought that you could actually hold your own against the witches had somehow never crossed his mind. It definitely should have, though, because when he finally reaches you, you’re standing over two feminine figures that are lying still on the ground. 

He sees your chest rising and falling as the iron tight grip you have on the knife in your hand begins to falter. The knife clatters onto the floor as you look over to see Sam.

“Sam,” you pant, and he immediately rushes over to you and takes your tired figure into his arms. He immediately feels blood that he isn’t sure of the origins beginning to soak into his jacket, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is your safety, and preserving that safety for as long as he possibly can from here on out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers next to your ear.

“No, Sam, I killed my mom and then my best friend from high school and her mom in the span of not even twenty-four hours. I feel horrible.”

“You had to, okay? They were killing people. Maybe that doesn’t help you feel better right now, but eventually it will. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or you’ll end up hating yourself for the rest of your life. This is how it is to be a hunter, and I understand if after now you never want to do it again,” he rambles, trying to somehow make you feel better, which he knows is nearly impossible right now, but he can’t stop himself from trying. To him, it almost feels like someone is taking control of his body and making him do everything in his power to help you.

He realizes very quickly, though, that it’s not a person taking control of his body, but an emotion: love. The realization is scary for him, to say the least, especially because of his track record with girlfriends dying, but he thinks that he would be okay with overcoming this fear if it means you would be his.

A few seconds later, Dean walks into the room and finds himself met with the sight of your shorter figure being held, in his opinion, disgustingly lovingly by his brother. He’s happy that his brother has found someone that seems like a good person from what he can tell.

Dean whistles, eyebrows raising in approval at the sight of the two witches’ bodies behind your back. “Damn, and you didn’t even need my help. You’re getting better, Sammy.”

Sam shakes his head. “I didn’t do this. She did,” he replies, turning around and giving Dean a smug look. Dean gives him a look of annoyance at being proven wrong when it comes to your ability to fight, but ultimately decides to give it a rest, for today at least. He could tell you were shaken up, and he felt that he could sympathize, only a bit, though.

When he realizes that you had taken out the two witches on your own, he couldn’t help but feel impressed, and he confidently feels that you and Sam are right for each other. It’s funny that it isn’t your loving personality or quirky teasing that tells him that you’re right for Sam, but instead the fact that you can hold your own in a battle. That really is a more valuable asset in their lives than any regular person, so Dean is glad that his brother has been lucky enough to find someone like that.

****

Later that day, you’re all standing outside your house that now feels very empty without your mother. You never realized how much of a presence she really had until now, and admittedly, it makes you sad to think about, no matter how much you disliked her.

Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot emptier with Sam and Dean ready to head out to their next case. However, Dean’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and his words shock you even more.

“Kid, how would you feel about joining us for a few more hunts, see how you feel? Who knows, maybe you’ll become a permanent member of our group here.” 

Sam gives him a look of pure astonishment, but all he receives in return is a smug look and a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys with all the teaching me how to hunt and all that.”

“I don’t think we’d have to do too much teaching. You’re a natural,” Sam compliments, causing a deep blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Alright, Sammy. We’re gonna have to work on all that flirting,” Dean teases. “I’ll admit, I do agree, though. That was impressive. I probably couldn’t have done that on my first hunt,” he admits.

His unexpected words of praise make you smile, and your annoyance from earlier fades away. Dean could be a pain in the ass from what you’ve learned, but he could also be nice. You figured he was usually a pain in the ass, though, but you figured that you would be able to learn how to deal with it, or at least ignore it like Sam seems to be able to do.

“Alright. To be honest, it was kind of exhilarating, but also scary. I think it could be something I could learn to love, though.”

Sam gives you a warm smile, and gestures for you to go over there to give him a hug, which you excitedly accept, falling into his larger frame as his long arms wrap around you.

Dean grumbles. “Really? Again?”

All you and Sam do in response is laugh, much to Dean’s annoyance.

a/n: would yall be interested in this being a series or something ?? idk i feel like that would be fun to do

tags: @kozumesphone

[curioussubjects]

SPN and Going Forward

Hi, guys, ugh. So we’re still here, huh? After spending most of the night talking and talking with polol folks, being in my feelings, see the shitshow on twitter, I have cried, laughed, and been in utter disbelief. I’ve been a lot angry, and I’ve betrayed and fooled. Really very very confused. Suspicious. Then I laughed some more at the sheer 2020 energy of this finale. Now that I’ve actually gotten time to process the bulk of my feelings and gotten some sleep, I want to address a couple thing about my stance on the text, what went down, and what you can expect from me here on the blog. 

First, I want to thank y’all again for the love you’ve sent my way. Thank you. I said weeks ago that if all went to hell in a handbasket, we’d get each other through it and I meant it. I mean it still. Supernatural, more than ever, belongs to us now. The finale can’t ever take that from us, and it can’t take the community we built from us. That’s how we...well, carry on. Not in honor of how Supernatural ended, but in honor of all that it did before. Of all the good memories we created, the ideas, the stories, the friendship, and the laughter we shared. If you hurt too much to stay, that’s ok. If you ever want to come back, we’ll be here waiting. SPNfamily only ends if we let it, and I for one don’t plan on giving whoever is behind this finale the satisfaction, which brings me to my next point. 

The finale sits at the end of s15 awkwardly. It doesn’t fit the emotional narrative. I can’t believe I’m saying this but 19 actually hits the emotional brief much better. 19 could arguably have a metanarrative purpose. I could understand the point of 19 in a way I can’t for 20. This is all to say I don’t buy that this was authorial intent. Compare the structure of 20 to anything else this season. It doesn’t fit, it’s sloppy, and the pacing is weird. And none of the emotional beats are there when they have been featured expertly since day 1, not only of s15, but all of Dabb’s run. This is all to say that my blog will not be a space that will engage in dunking on Dabb or Berens or Glynn. I simply will not do that because I’ve seen their other work and the finale was not it. If new info comes to light, then that’s that, but I have no reason to believe the finale was the conclusion to the story they wanted to tell. 

I have no idea how or why we got here. There’s a lot of rumors floating around, and we all want someone to blame. There’s a lot of information that doesn’t add up, and I sincerely hope one day we learn why Supernatural ended like it did. I hope we get to see what the writers envisioned. I’m personally inclined to place my blame on corporate meddling, but I have no evidence of that beyond that’s usually where fuckery comes from. We’ll see what unfolds, if anything does. 

Moreover, I want to say that I stand by every piece of meta I’ve written and engaged with. Last night I said that the finale did hit the mytharc brief, and, largely, it did: we got a restructured heaven that allows souls to be their true selves. Peace and freedom. The eternal sandbox. I appreciate that whatever happened, the writing team gave us the ability to take back the narrative and fix it because they weren’t allowed to. Philosophically, s15 delivered what is set out to, and I’ve always been a fan of that vision. I still am. I’m not upset over Dean’s death because as I’ve said all along: death is an illusion. Real life, true life, is the life of the soul not of the body. However, I understand that I have my own spiritual philosophy allowing me to exist so easily and happily with that conclusion. I don’t begrudge anyone who can’t. I always figured the finale would have to be very careful in how it delivered that plotline to make it work for an audience that isn’t already plugged into the philosophy. I meant that, but I also ask for understanding for those of us who do live that philosophy; we are allowed to be happy about the mytharc conclusion. 

The character narrative, however, was shamefully dropped. None of our characters got the emotional catharsis they deserved. I’ll maybe write about some of that one day, and I’ll definitely engage with the writing of others about it. Supernatural shined not because of its mythology, but because of its characters. The finale failed because those characters were erased and denied the last leg of their journey. They got their reward in heaven, I suppose, but there’s no satisfaction in off-screen resolutions. Our character-driven beats were absent. That’s why it hurts so much. And that’s why despite my loving of the mytharc, the episode itself is a bust. Our characters deserved better. Supernatural deserved better. 

It’s our sandbox now.

[fictionalabyss]

A Chevy girl.

Pairing : Dean x F!Reader

Word count :   1,134

Written for : @spnfluffbingo

Square : Mechanic AU

Warnings : Annoyed Dean, Surprised Dean, smitten Dean, Old cars, Bad ass Woman in charge who takes no shit and proves she knows what she's talking about, Mechanic!Reader, business owner! Reader.

Header by : The always amazing @sorenmarie87​ . If you want to help support a fellow creator and get some beautiful headers, hit her up, her commissions are open.

A/N : also a big thank you to @iflostreturntosteverogers​ cuz I know fuck all about cars and this girl somehow knows something about everything rofl. 

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

Dean was annoyed, grumbling as he drove. He’d been having trouble starting his car for a few days now. He knew what the problem was, he could fix it easily himself, he just needed the damn part and he’d been having a hard time locating one. That’s why he was now driving several hours out of his way to hit a garage that MIGHT happen to have one he could buy.

It was a small garage on the outskirts of a decent sized city. There were a few cars out front when Dean pulled in, some old, some newer, none as old as his, though. He hoped he could get the damn part.

Dean slipped out of his car, looking around as he shut the door, then headed for the building. There was a jingle as the door opened, the small seating area empty save for the guy behind the counter who didn’t even look up. “Hey.” Dean greeted as he stepped up to the counter.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m told this is a place to get parts for older cars? I need a set of points for the distributor of a 67 Chevy Impala.”

Taking his eyes off Dean, and putting them back on whatever he’d been doing, he didn’t bother looking back up at Dean as he answered. “Leave the keys and we’ll get that fixed up for you-”

“No.” Dean cut him off. “I don’t need the work done, I just need the damn part. I can fix it myself.”

His eyes shot up to Deans, and he sighed, obviously annoyed. “You’ll have to talk to the owner.”

“Then go get the owner.”  Dean watched him roll his eyes before heading back to what Dean assumed was the garage. Dean waited, looking around the small room for several minutes before the guy came back and told him it would be a minute or two, then ignored him and went back to what he’d been doing before, which Dean assumed was definitely not work.

“What’d you need, Jonny?”

Dean looked up at the voice and froze. Whoever this girl was, she looked damn good covered in grease. He was almost tempted to leave his keys with her. Any other car, any but Baby, and he probably would have just to watch her work.

“Guy’s looking for a part.”

Eyes turned to him and it took Dean a moment to find his voice. “Uh- I need a set of distributor points..”

“You sure that’s what you need?”

“Yeah.”

Despite his answer, you looked skeptical. “I think I’ll take a look for myself. Out front?”

Before Dean could even answer, you were moving, your back to him as you headed outside. He glanced at the guy behind the desk who continued to ignore him, then he hurried out to follow. When he got outside, you were walking alongside his car, and Damn if that didn’t stir something in Dean.  As he got closer, he realized you were muttering to yourself. He half caught it and was instantly on the defensive. “I take damn good care of my car.”

“No, you don’t.” you shot him a glare. “What the hell are you doing to her, racing her on gravel?” you shot, pointing out tons of tiny scratches around the wheels.

“Look, lady, I’m just here for a damn part, you got it or not?”

“I’m starting to doubt you know what you need..” you continued to glare at him as you started for the hood, no longer trusting his judgement and wanting to give the car a full lookover to see what other damage he was ignoring.

“Hey! I’ve built this thing from the ground up more than once, alright? Don’t act like you know my damn car better than me.” he spat. He was getting fed up with the attitude in this place. First the guy behind the desk and now this?

You laughed at that. “Honey, you aren’t the first person to own a Chevy Impala. It’s not even the oldest one I’ve worked on. I know more than you think.”

“Just because you’re a mechanic-”

“I’m the fucking owner.” Dean froze, eyes shooting from you to the building and the name on it.  “This ain’t my daddy’s garage. It ain’t my ‘boyfriends’. It’s mine, it’s always been mine. You built your car from the ground up? I built this.” you gestured all around you. “And this.” you started away from him, around the main building, towards the back.

Confused, it took a minute before Dean started to follow, curiosity getting the better of him. There was an old garage back there. The white paint, old and peeling off the wooden structure. He watched as you opened up the first of the large doors and he froze. There sat one of the most beautiful cars he’d ever seen, and in pristine condition.

“Chevy Impala.” you informed him as he moved in and ghosted his fingers over shiny black paint. “‘58.”

Dean's eyes shot over. “The first year..” You nodded. “How the fuck did you find this?” You gave him a shrug and his eyes were back on the car. “Original parts?”

“Most. Had to make a few I couldn’t find.”

“It’s beautiful…”

“Trust me yet?” you asked him, and he turned to you. “If not..” he watched you start away, and then he heard another door open. Leaving this space, he rounded the corner and looked into the next one. He’d know that car anywhere, even only half done.

“A Camaro?”

“‘69.” You smiled at it with fondness, running your fingers along the side of the hood. “Full restore. This baby is gonna be a beauty when she’s done.”

“So you’re a Chevy girl.” Dean chuckled in admiration. “I think I’m in love.”

You watched as he looked over the car, mumbling to himself about this part or that or what was missing. So he wasn’t just a pretty face, he knew cars too. Knew more than most people. “You a mechanic?” you asked.

“Dad was. Taught me everything. I learned it all on that ‘67 out front. That car’s been in the family since before I was born, and she’s been mine since I could drive.”

“I don’t have the part.” you told him, and watched the flicker of disappointment cross his face. “But I can get it. It’ll take a couple days at best.” Dean gave you a nod. “Leave me your number and I’ll call when it’s here.”

“I’m actually not from around here. But maybe I’ll stay for a bit. You know anywhere with a room available?”

Your lips pulled upwards into a smile. “I might know a place with a bed. If you keep talking cars.”

“Baby, I can talk cars all day.” Dean grinned.

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[marlborodean]

spn quotes: season two

i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! my favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!

w/ncest shippers get lost

season one.

1. IN MY TIME OF DYING

Dean—

I’ve done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I’ve given everything I’ve ever had. Now you’re just gonna sit there and you’re gonna watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you? (11:14)

So you’re okay with dying? [Tessa: No, of course not. I just think, whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen. It’s out of my control. It’s just...fate.] Hm. That’s crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die, or you can keep fighting no matter what. (18:48)

There’s no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is gonna rot in the ground, and my family is gonna die. (30:38)

[John: You know, when, uh...when you were a kid, I’d come home from a hunt, and after what I’d seen, I’d be...I’d be wrecked. And you...you’d come up to me, and you’d put your hand on my shoulder, and you’d look me in the eye, and you’d...you’d say, “It’s okay, Dad.” Dean, I’m sorry.] Why? [You shouldn’t have had to say that to me, I should’ve been saying that to you. You know, I put...I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you didn’t complain, not once.] (37:27)

Sam—

How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession! (13:17)

I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, alright? As long as you keep fighting. I mean, come on, you can't...you can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that. Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again. (28:36)

Misc—

Tessa: You'll stay here for years—disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent. [Dean: What are you saying?] Dean, how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on. And you're about to become one: the same thing you hunt. (31:15)

Azazel: If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them. (32:15)

2. EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

Dean—

[Ellen: I’m so sorry.] It’s okay. We’re alright. [Really. I know how close you and your dad—] Really, lady, I’m fine. (11:37)

[Sam: You ever notice Dad had a falling-out with just about everybody? Don’t get all maudlin on me, man.] What do you mean? [I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It’s crap, I’m over it.] Oh my God. [This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.] You know what? Back off, alright? Just because I’m not caring and sharing like you want me to— [No no no, that’s not what this is about, Dean. I don’t care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man! Listen, I’m your brother, alright? I just wanna make sure you’re okay.] Dude, I’m okay! I’m okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues. Quit dumping them on me. [What are you talking about?] I just think it’s really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It’s like, “Oh, what would Dad want me to do?” Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you—you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he’s dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I’m sorry, Sam, but you can’t. It’s too little, too late. [Why are you saying this to me?] Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I’m dealing with Dad’s death! Are you? (29:48)

Sam—

[Dean: This case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.] So? [It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.] I don't know, I just think taking this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do. (16:57)

[Mr. Cooper: You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been, for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two...you should go to school, find a couple of girls, have 2.5 kids. Live regular.] Sir, we don't want to go school, and we don't want regular. We want this. (22:34)

[Dean: I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to wussy state.] I'm having second thoughts. [Really?] Yeah. I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job. [Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doing what he didn't want, Sam.] Since he died, okay? You have a problem with that? (23:27)

I'm sorry that the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it is too little. It's too late. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right, not at all. But neither are you. That much I know. (39:04)

3. BLOODLUST

Dean—

So I picked up this crossbow, and I hit that ugly sucker—silver-tipped arrow, right in his heart. Sammy’s waiting in the car, and me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I’m sitting there, and I’m looking into the fire, I’m thinking to myself, “I’m 16 years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I’m seeing things that they’ll never even know, never even dream of.” So right then, I just sort of.... [Gordon: Embraced the life?] Yeah. (16:16)

You’re always saying to yourself, “He’s indestructible. He’ll always be around. Nothing can kill my dad.” And just like that, he’s gone. I can’t talk about this to Sammy. No, I got to keep my game face on. But, uh...truth is, I’m not handling it very well. I feel like I have this— [Gordon: Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker? Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me, there’s plenty out there needs killing, and this will help you do it. Dean, it’s not a crime to need your job.] (18:32)

[Gordon: It’s all black-and-white. There’s no maybe. You find the bad thing, kill it. See, most people spend their lives in shades of gray. Is this right? Is that wrong? Not us.] Not sure Sammy would agree with you, but, uh. [Doesn’t seem like your brother’s much like us. I’m not saying he’s wrong, just different. You and me, we were born to do this. It’s in our blood.] (20:22)

[Sam: You know what? You slap on this big smile, but I can see right through it, ‘cause I know how you feel, Dean. Dad’s dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can’t take it. But you can’t just fill up that hole with whoever you want to.] (27:47)

[Gordon: You’re not like your brother. You’re a killer, like me.] (37:08)

I wish we never took this job. It just jacked everything up. [Sam: What do you mean?] Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. [Okay.] What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing. You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us. [Dean, after what happened to Mom...Dad did the best he could.] I know he did. But maybe he wasn’t perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and man, I hate them. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn’t even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it. [You didn’t kill Lenore.] No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill them all. (40:20)

Sam—

[Gordon: Well, lighten up a little, Sammy!] He's the only one that gets to call me that. (15:05)

4. CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

Dean—

Going to visit Mom’s grave? She doesn’t even have a grave. There was no body left after the fire. [Sam: She has a headstone.] Yeah, put up by our uncle, a man that we’ve never even met. So you wanna go pay resects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on. [Dean, that’s not the point.] Well, them enlighten me, Sam. [It’s not about a body or a casket. It’s about her memory, okay? And after Dad, it just—it just feels like the right thing to do.] It’s irrational, is what it is. [Look, man, no one asked you to come.] Why don’t we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven’t heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son-of-a-bitch down. [That’s a good idea! You should! Just drop me off, I’ll hitch a ride, and I’ll meet you there tomorrow.] Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up. No thanks. (02:48)

[Sam: Look, maybe you’re imagining a hunt where there isn’t one, so you don’t have to think about Mom, or Dad. You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it’ll make you feel better.] I don’t need this crap. [Dean, where are you going?] I’m gonna go get a drink. Alone. (09:59)

Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again, but what gives you the right? [Sam: Dean.] [Dr. Mason: What are you talking about?] What’s dead should stay dead! (20:51)

[Sam: Dean, I don’t scare easy, but, man, you’re scaring the crap out of me.] Don’t be overdramatic, Sam. [You’re lucky this turned out to be a real case, ‘cause if it wasn’t, you would’ve just found something else to kill. You’re on edge, you’re erratic, except for when you’re hunting, ‘cause then you’re downright scary. You’re tailspinning, man! And you refuse to talk about it, and you won’t let me help you.] I can take care of myself, thanks. [No, you can’t! And you know what? You’re the only one who thinks you should have to. You don’t have to handle this on your own, Dean. No one can.] (21:44)

I’m sorry. [Sam: For what?] The way I’ve been acting. And for Dad. Well, he was your dad, too. It’s my fault that he’s gone. [What are you talking about?] I know you’ve been thinking it. So have I. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later, Dad’s dead and the Colt’s gone. [Dean....] You can’t tell me there’s not a connection there. I don’t know how the demon was involved, I don’t know how the whole thing went down exactly, but Dad’s dead because of me, and that much I do know. [We don’t know that, not for sure.] Sam, you and Dad, you’re the most important people in my life. And now...I never should’ve come back, Sam, it wasn’t natural, and now look what’s come of it. I was dead, and I should’ve stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. So tell me, what could you possibly say to make that alright? (38:56)

Sam—

[Dean: Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave. There was no body left after the fire.] She has a headstone. [Yeah, put up by our uncle, a man that we've never even met. So you wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.] Dean, that's not the point. [Well, then, enlighten me, Sam.] It's not about a body or a casket. It's about her memory, okay? And after Dad, it just—it just feels like the right thing to do. (02:48)

You're tailspinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it, and you won't let me help you. [Dean: I can take care of myself, thanks.] No, you can't! And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to. You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean. No one can. [Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time, I swear—] Please, Dean, it's killing you. Please. We've already lost Dad. We lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. And now I'm gonna lose you, too? (21:44)

5. SIMON SAID

Dean—

You know, one day I’d love to just sit down and eat something that I didn’t have to microwave at a minimart. (18:03)

[Sam: You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You’re just as scared of this as I am.] That was mind control! It’s like—it’s like being roofied, man. That doesn’t count. [What?] No, I—I’m calling do-over. [What are you, 7?] Doesn’t matter. Look, we just gotta keep doing what we’re doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it. (36:06)

Sam—

[Dean: There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if—if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?] So I'm a freak now? [You've always been a freak.] (04:14)

Demon came to them when they were kids. Now they're killing people. [Dean: We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent.] My visions haven't been wrong yet! [What's your point?] My point is, I'm one of them. [No, you're not.] Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me. [Yeah?] Yeah, maybe this is his plan. Maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks. Maybe we're all supposed to be— [Killers?] Yeah. [So the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds, is that it? Oh, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones!] No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things. [Those things were asking for it. There's a difference.] (10:47)

Looks like I was right. [Dean: About what?] Andy. He's a killer after all. [No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life. He saved my life.] Bottom line, last night he wasted somebody. [Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was just—he was pushed into that.] Webber was pushed, too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death. [What's your point, Sam?] Right circumstances, everyone is capable of murder. Everyone. (35:28)

6. NO EXIT

Dean—

[Jo: You know, I’ve had it up to here with your crap.] Excuse me? [Your chauvinist crap. You think women can’t do the job.] Sweetheart, this ain’t gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can’t. You got no experience! What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barfly has put in your head. [And now you sound like my mother.] Oh, and that’s a bad thing? (09:56)

Jo, you got options. No on in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young. I wish I could do something else. [Jo: You love the job.] Yeah, but I’m a little twisted. [You don’t think I’m a little twisted, too?] Jo, you got a mother that worries about you, who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don’t throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later. (10:24)

[Jo: What do you remember about your dad? I mean, what’s the first thing that pops into your head? Come on, tell me.] I was 6 or 7, and uh...he took me shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence—that kind of things. I bull’s-eyed every one of them. And he would smile, like...I don’t know. [He must have been proud.] (16:13)

Sam—

Is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be? [Jo: Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. But that Theresa girl’s gonna live a life ‘cause of us. It’s worth it, isn’t it?] Yeah. Yeah, it is. (36:00)

Misc—

Ellen: I am your mother! I don't have to be reasonable! (03:06)

7. THE USUAL SUSPECTS

Dean—

My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. (21:59)

[Sam: Nice lady.] Yeah, for a cop. (41:19)

Sam—

[Diana: Then about a year ago, there was a fire in your apartment. One fatality—Jessica Moore, your girlfriend. After she died, you fell off the grid—left behind everything.] I needed some time off...to deal. So I’m taking a road trip with my brother. (03:49)

[Dean: What do you think, Scully?] I’m not Scully, you’re Scully. [No, I’m Mulder. You’re a red-headed woman.] (06:35)

8. CROSSROAD BLUES

Dean—

[Sam: We got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.] Great. So we got to clean up these people’s mess for them? I mean, they’re not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play “Let’s Make a Deal.” [So what, we should just leave them to die?] Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in to try to save them? [Dean.] Alright. Fine. (14:44)

[Demon: You’d sacrifice your life for someone else’s. Like father, like son. (29:01) 

[Demon: I’m not gonna put you out of your misery.] Yeah? Why not? [’Cause your misery is the whole point. It’s too much to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul—I mean, that’s got to hurt. He’s all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, “I can’t do this anymore.” You’re all lit up with pain. I mean, you loved him so much. And it’s all your fault. You blew it, Dean! I could’ve given you what you need.] What do I need? [Your father.] (30:36)

How could he do it? [Sam: He did it for you.] Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? (38:14)

Sam—

How many people do you think Dad saved total? [Dean: That's not the point, Sam.] Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. Now we're still here, man, so we got to keep going. For him. (38:48)

Misc—

George: Listen, I get that you boys want to help, but sometimes a person makes their bed and they just got to lie down in it. (17:38)

9. CROATOAN

Dean—

Hey, look, man, I’m not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job, and you know that. [Sam: It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this. That's the whole point.] What does that buy us? [A clear conscience, for one.] Well, it's too late for that. [What the hell has happened to you?] What? [You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care. You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what, you're acting like one of those things out there.] (25:40)

[Sam: Go with them. This is your only chance.] Ah, you're not gonna get rid of me that easy. (31:17)

[Sam: Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you.] No—[No, you can keep going.] Who says I want to? [What?] I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life, this weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it. [So what, so you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad had—] You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure— [Then what is it about?] (32:54)

I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we got to get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit? [Why are you saying all this? No no no no no, Dean. You're my brother, alright? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit.] I can't. I promised. [Who?] Dad. (39:23)

Sam—

[Dean: Hey, look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job, and you know that.] It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this. That's the whole point. [What does that buy us?] A clear conscience, for one. (25:40)

You're my brother, alright? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit. (39:38)

10. HUNTED

Dean—

He said that he...wanted me to watch out for you. Take care of you. [Sam: He told you that a million times.] Well, this time was different. He said that I had to...save you. [Save me from what?] He just said that I had to save you, and nothing else mattered and that if I couldn't, I'd.... [You'd what, Dean?] I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy. (04:10)

[Sam: How could you not have told me this?] Because it was Dad and he begged me not to. [Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!] You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day! (05:05)

And you're pissed at me, and I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay? [Sam: Forget it.] Sam, please, man. Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here. Please, please. (06:12)

Come on, Ellen, please. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid. [Ellen: They say you can't protect your loved ones forever. Well, I say screw that. What else is family for?] (17:27)

Come on, man. I know Sam, okay? Better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn. [Gordon: Maybe you're right, but one day, he's gonna be a monster.] How? Huh? How's a guy like Sam become a monster? [Beats me, but he will.] No, you don't know that! [I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this.] (29:15)

[Gordon: Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would've wrecked him, but your dad, if it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. So you're telling me, you're not the man he is?] (30:24)

Screw the job. Screw it, man. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck. [Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you're meant to do.] Oh, I wasn't meant to do anything. I don't believe in that destiny crap. (39:00)

[Sam: You can't run from this, and you can't protect me.] I can try. (39:27)

Sam—

[Dean: He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.] Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? [I don't know.] I mean, he must've had some kind of reason for saying it, right? I mean, did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark side or something? What else did he say, Dean? [That's it, I swear.] How could you not have told me this? [Because it was Dad and he begged me not to.] Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself Dean! You had no right to keep this from me! (04:46)

[Ellen: I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys. It'd be easier. Truth is, it's not your fault. Sam, none of it is.] (10:27)

[Gordon: You wouldn't shoot me, would you, Sammy? 'Cause your brother, he thinks you're some kind of saint.] Yeah, well, I wouldn't be so sure. (33:46)

[Gordon: You're no better than the filthy things you hunt.] *They tussle, Sam points a gun at him.* [Do it. Do it! Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy.] It's Sam. (34:22)

I'm not gonna just ditch the job. (39:00)

[Dean: Oh, I wasn't meant to do anything. I don't believe in that destiny crap.] You mean you don't believe in my destiny. [Whatever.] Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this, and you can't protect me. [I can try.] Thanks for that. Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever's coming, I'm taking it head on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around. (39:13)

11. PLAYTHINGS

Dean—

[Sam: We gotta save as many people as we can.] Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me. I'm officially uncomfortable now, thank you. (05:16)

[Sam: I need you to watch out for me.] Yeah, I always do. [No no no no, you have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me.] Sam.... [Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to.] Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't—you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids. [No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies.] Yeah, well, I'm not dying. Okay? And neither are you. Come on, sit down. [No. Please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise.] Don't ask that of me. (16:18)

[Sherwin: Well, would you be [happy], leaving the only home you ever knew?] I don't know. I never really knew one. (19:06)

Sam—

I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out. [Dean: You did?] Yeah. You seem surprised. [Yeah, it's just, you know. Not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?] What way is that? [Just figured after Ava, there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows. I'll shut up now.] (04:27)

So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not gonna let other people die, either. We gotta save as many people as we can. (05:09)

That guy who hung himself...I couldn't save him. [Dean: What are you talking about? You didn't know. You couldn't have done anything.] That's an excuse, Dean. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava, too. [Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that.] No, Dean, you don't understand, alright? The more people I save, the more I can change. [Change what?] My destiny, Dean. (15:46)

I need you to watch out for me. [Dean: Yeah, I always do.] No no no no, you have to watch out for me, alright? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me. [Dean: Sam....] Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to. [Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't—you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids.] No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies. [Yeah, well, I'm not dying. Okay? And neither are you. Come on, sit down.] No. Please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise. [Don't ask that of me.] Dean, please. You have to promise me. [I promise.] Thanks. Thank you. (16:18)

12. NIGHTSHIFTER

Dean—

Freaking cops. [Sam: They were just doing their job.] No, they’re doing our job, only they don’t know it, so they suck at it. (03:36)

[Henriksen: I know about your dad.] You don't know crap about my dad. [Ex-Marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of wacko he was— white supremist, Timmy McVeigh, tomato, tomahto.] You got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero. [Yeah, right. Sure sounds like it.] (31:18)

Sam—

[Dean: When you told that poor son of a bitch to—what did you say?—”remand” the tapes that he copied? “Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation”? That’s messed up.] What, are you pissed at me? [No, I just think it’s a little creepy how good of a Fed you are.] (08:51)

Better to stay in the dark and stay alive. (08:51)

13. HOUSES OF THE HOLY

Dean—

Odd, yes. Supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so. [Sam: Why not?] 'Cause there's no such thing, Sam. [Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted.] Hey, you know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns, too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows outta their ass. [Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?] That's cute. I'm just saying, man, there's some legends that you just file under “bullcrap.” [And you got angels on the ”bullcrap” list.] Yep. [Why?] 'Cause I've never seen one. [So what?] So I believe in what I can see. [Dean, you and I have seen things most people couldn't even dream about.] Exactly. With our own eyes—that's hard proof, okay? But in all this time, I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed that we would've crossed paths with them, or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? (06:17)

You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's—hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that. Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me. [You never told me that.] What's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power. There's no God. I mean, there's just chaos and violence and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I'm gonna need to see some hard proof. You got any? (23:09)

Sam—

[Dean: What's next? Are you gonna start praying everyday?] I do. [What?] I do pray every day. I have for a long time. (19:50)

I wanted to believe. So badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do, all alone, you know? There's so much evil out in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up.... [Dean: Yeah, well, don't worry about that, alright? I'm watching out for you.] Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else watching, too, you know? Some higher power, some greater good. And maybe.... [Maybe what?] Maybe I could be saved. But, you know, that just clouded my judgement. And you're right. I mean, we got to go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes. (37:54)

14. BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN

Dean—

[Meg!Sam: Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?] I don't know, all right? But you're...you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with. (02:51)

Sam, go wait in the car. [Meg!Sam: But, Dean—] Go wait in the car! (06:40)

What's going on with you, Sam, hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean that sounds more like me than you. (07:51)

You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe. [Meg!Sam: I know.] I can't. I'd rather die. [No. You'll live.] (15:53)

[Meg!Sam: What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?] (25:53)

This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be. (31:28)

[Meg!Sam: Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach. (34:13)

[Meg!Sam: All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow, like pulling the wings off an insect. But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your dad, and deep down, you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you.] (37:21)

[Sam: No matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot.] It was the right move, Sam, it wasn't you. [Yeah, this time. What about next time?] Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you. (41:01)

Sam—

For the last few weeks, I've been having...I've been having these feelings. [Dean: What feelings?] Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse. [You never told me this.] I didn't want to scare you. (13:52)

[Dean: No one can control you but you.] Sure doesn't seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm—I'm just becoming— [What?] Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean, I got to face up to who I am. (14:29)

I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you. [Dean: You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it.] No. I can't. Not forever. (15:16)

My head feels like it's on fire, alright? (25:21)

Misc: 

Meg: Hell is like, uh...well, it's like hell. Even for demons. It's a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. (36:42)

15. TALL TALES

Dean—

[Bobby: Come on, now, you're bickering like an old married couple.] No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him? We're like, uh, Siamese twins. [Sam: It's conjoined twins.] See what I mean? [Look, it...we've just been on the road for too long, tight quarters, all that.] (11:19) 

[Sam: Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you.] What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around. [Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge?] What's wrong with my food? [It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism!] I like it. [And you know what? All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!] You done? [You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?] It'd be the last thing you ever did. (21:15)

Sam—

Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you. [What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around.] Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge? [What's wrong with my food?] It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism! [I like it.] And you know what? All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff! (21:15)

16. ROADKILL

Dean—

You know, just once I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house. (16:14)

Me? I don't like [spirits]. And I sure as hell ain't making apologies for 'em. (20:08)

[Molly: Oh, thank God.] Call me Dean. (28:46)

Sam—

Spirits like Greeley are, uh...like wounded animals. Lost, in so much pain, that they lash out. [Molly: Why? Why are they here?] Well, there's some part of them that...that's keeping them here, like their remains, or um...unfinished business. [Unfinished business....] Yeah, uh, could be revenge. Could be love. Or hate. Whatever it is, they just hold on too tight. Can't let go. So they're trapped, caught in the same loops. Replaying the same tragedies over and over. [You sound almost sorry for them.] Well, they weren't evil people, you know? A lot of them were good, just...something happened to them. Something they couldn't control. (18:52)

[Dean: You think she's really going to a better place?] I hope so. [I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?] Doesn't really matter, Dean. Hope's kind of the whole point. (38:23)

17. HEART

Dean—

[Sam: Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?] I'm sorry, man, but what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids. (04:39)

[Sam: You go. I'll stay.] Forget that. You go after the creepy ex. I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick. [Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?] 'Cause I'm older. [No, screw that. We settle this the old-fashioned way.] *Dean throws scissors while Sam throws rock.* [Dean, always with the scissors!] Shut up, shut up. Two out of three. *Dean throws scissors while Sam throws rock.* God! [Bundle up out there, all right?] (11:11]

Sammy, I got this one. I'll do it. [Sam: She asked me to.] You don't have to. (38:56)

Sam—

I'm not putting a bullet through some girl's chest who has no idea what's happening. [Dean: Sam, she's a monster and you're feeling sorry for her?] Maybe I understand her. (21:26)

18. HOLLYWOOD BABYLON

Dean—

[Sam: You know, I thought you hated being a PA.] I don’t know, it’s not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know? It’s good. (19:22)

Hey, we got to go check out Johnny Ramone’s grave when we’re gone here. [Sam: You want to go dig him up, too?] Bite your tongue, heathen! (23:25)

[Marty: He wrote a wackjob screenplay. There’s no pace, there’s no love interest. It’s all wackadoo exposition. I had to cut, like, 90 percent of it to make it readable, another 10 percent to make it good.] ...Should have kept Walter’s original script. It’s actually pretty good. (31:15)

Sam—

[Dean: I just figured that, you know, after everything that happened with Madison, you could use a little R&R, that’s all.] Maybe I want to work, Dean. Maybe it keeps my mind off things. (05:38)

19. FOLSOM PRISON BLUES

Dean—

Innocent people are dead—four, so far. [Sam: Yeah, innocent.] What, are you from Texas all of a sudden? Just 'cause these people are in jail doesn't mean they deserve to die. And if we don't stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us. (11:30)

[Sam: You're doing this for Deacon?] Damn right. [We barely even know the guy.] We know he was in the Corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad's life. We know we owe him. [Yeah, all right, but don't you think he's asking a little much?] Doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to to you. (11:47)

[Sam: Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?] No, not really. (28:07)

Sam—

I hate this plan, Dean. [Dean: yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it.] (05:12)

This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we’ve ever done, and that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy. (10:58)

20. WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

Dean—

When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed? [Mary: Dean, I don't understand—] Just answer the question. [I told you angels were watching over you.] (07:05)

Who'd have thought, Baby? We're civilians. (11:42)

That lawn looks like it could use some mowing. [Mary: You want to mow the lawn?] You kidding me? I'd love to mow the lawn. [Knock yourself out. You'd think you've never mowed a lawn in your life.] (13:08)

[Sam: I mean this whole warm, fuzzy, ecstasy-trip thing.] I'm just happy for you, Sammy. [Yeah, right. That's another thing. Since when do you call me “Sammy?” Dean, come on. We don't talk outside of holidays.] We don't? Well, we should. I mean, you're my brother. [”You're my brother?”] Yeah! [You know, that's what you said when you snaked my ATM card, or when you bailed on my graduation, or when you hooked up with Rachel Nave.] Who? [My prom date, on prom night.] Yeah, that does kinda sound like me. Well, hey, man, I'm sorry about all that. [No, look, it's all right, man, I just...you know, I'm not asking you to change, I just.... I don't know, I guess we just don't really have anything in common. You know?] Wait, whoa whoa whoa, yes we do. Yes we do. [What?] Hunting. [Hunting? I've never been hunting in my life, Dean.] Yeah, well, then we should go sometime. I think you'd be great at it. (17:51)

I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone. [Carmen: Okay. What's gotten into you lately?] This isn't gonna make a lick of sense to you...but I kind of feel like I've been given a second chance. And I don't want to waste it. (19:58)

And there's this woman that's haunting me, I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is—not yet, anyway. It's like my old life is coming after me or something, you know, like it doesn't want me to be happy. Of course, I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball, but you'd say, "Go hunt the djinn. It put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness or all those people's lives, no contest." Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life? Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? (23:14)

I'm sorry that we don't get along. And I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People's lives depend on it. (26:07)

[Djinn!Sam: Why'd you have to keep digging? Why couldn't you have left well-enough alone? You were happy.] [Djinn!Mary: Put the knife down, honey.] You're not real. None of it is. [It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had.] What? [It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let's go home.] I'll die. The djinn will drain the life out of me in a couple days. [But in here, with us, it'll feel like years, like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain, no more fear. Just love and comfort and safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest.] [Djinn!Jessica: You don't have to worry about Sam anymore. You get to watch him live a full life.] [Djinn!Carmen: We can have a future together, have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please.] [Djinn!Sam: Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough? I'm begging you. Give me the knife.] I'm sorry. (34:47)

I gotta tell you, though, man, you know, you had Jess. Mom was gonna have grandkids. [Sam: Yeah, but Dean, it wasn't real.] I know. But I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad....all I can—all I can think about it how much this job has cost us. We've lost so much. And we've sacrificed so much. (40:43)

Sam—

[Dean: Get out of the car.] I'm going with you. [You're just gonna slow me down.] Tough. [This is dangerous and you could get hurt.] Yeah, and so could you, Dean. [Sam—] Look, whatever stupid thing you're about to do, you're not doing it alone, and that's that. [I don't understand, why are you doing this?] Because you're still my brother. [Bitch.] What are you calling me a bitch for? [You're supposed to say jerk.] What? [Nevermind.] (27:07)

Well, I'm glad we do [get along]. And I'm glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn't have had the strength. They would've just stayed. (40:25)

[Dean: We've lost so much. And we've sacrificed so much.] But people are alive because of you, Dean. It's worth it, it is. It's not fair, and, you know, it hurts like hell, but it's worth it. (41:24)

21. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE, PART I

Dean—

I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of you. I got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother. (39:32)

Sam—

[Jake: By the way, I, uh, appreciate what you're doing here.] What am I doing? [Keeping calm, keeping them calm. Especially considering how freaked to hell you really are. I've been in some deep crap before myself. I know the look.] Want to know the truth? I got this brother, right? And he's always telling me how he's gonna watch out for me, how everything's gonna be okay, you know, kinda like I've been telling them. [Yeah.] I don't know if I believe it this time. (22:56)

22. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE, PART II

Dean—

[Bobby: Don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam?] No. [We could maybe....] What? Torch his corpse? Not yet. [I want you to come with me.] I'm not going anywhere. [Dean, please.] Would you cut me some slack? [I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit, I could use your help. Something big is going down—end-of-the-world big!] Well, then let it end! [You don't mean that.] You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. (02:16)

You know, when we were little, when you couldn't have been more than five, you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom, why do we always have to move around, where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, "Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know." I just wanted you to be a kid, just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you, keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I have one job—I had one job. And I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry. I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too? How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do? Sammy. What am I supposed to do? (06:27)

That's the same deal you give everybody else. [Demon: You're not everybody else. Why would I want to give you anything? Keep your gutter soul. It's too tarnished, anyway.] (11:08)

You almost died in there. I mean, what would I have.... You just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit. (16:37)

Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. That's why I'm gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right? (19:00)

[Bobby: What is it with you Winchesters, huh? You, your dad—you're both just itching to throw yourselves down the pit.] (19:18)

Dad brought me back, Bobby, I'm not even supposed to be here. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? It's like my life can mean something. [Bobby: What? And it didn't before? Have you got that low an opinion of yourself? Are you that screwed in the head?] I couldn't let him die, Bobby. I couldn't. He's my brother. [How is your brother gonna feel when he knows you're going to Hell? How'd you feel when you knew your dad went for you?] You can't tell him. You take a shot at me, whatever you gotta do, but please don't tell him. (19:27)

[Azazel: You saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back is 100% pure Sam? You of all people should know that's what dead should stay dead. Anyway, thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.] (32:23)

[Sam: You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?] Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job. (38:45)

Sam—

I kind of can't believe it, Dean. I mean... our whole lives, everything... has been prepping for this, and now I...I kind of don't know what to say. (36:35)

[Dean: I had to look out for you. That's my job.] And what do you think my job is? [What?] You saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change. (38:57)

[norahastuff]

You know, I think a really underrated and particularly relevant episode of Spn we don’t talk about enough is 10x19 The Werther Project. Berens did something very special with that one. Why all of this is relevant post 15x20, I’ll mention at the end, so feel free to skip to that if you don’t want to read the whole thing.

Dean, at this point is suffering from the effects of the Mark of Cain and is afraid he’s not going to be able to control it for much longer. He gets hit by a spell and gets trapped in his subconscious, which for Dean manifests as Purgatory and Benny. Dean’s not under any illusions, he figures out what’s happening and he knows that this isn’t real, and yet the conversation he has with Dream Benny is one of the most illuminating insights into Dean’s mind that we ever get on the show. It shows how remarkably aware Dean has always been. 

Dean and Benny keep walking in circles and ending up at the same place. Benny even makes a point to remark

Benny: Well, how about that? A perfect circle. Don’t look at me, chief. You chose the way.

Dean: Benny, whoever you are, I need to get out of here

Benny: “Need” and “Want” are just two different things, ain’t they?

Dean knows there’s a difference. He may use the words interchangeably, but he knows they don’t mean the same thing. 

It soon becomes clear what the point of all this is: Benny is a figment Dean has created as the manifestation of his suicidal thoughts. He can’t see a way out, hence Benny appearing to try and seduce him into returning to purgatory, or in other words a place where he felt at peace and pure.

Out there? You’re sleeping. You make the right choice in here, you’ll sleep forever, and you won’t ever hurt anyone ever again. No one needs to know, Dean. What happens in Purgatory stays in Purgatory. 

Dean’s tempted. He considers it

I always did love it here. It’s as good a place as any to call it a day, huh?

Until he has a realisation:

I’d do it. If I really had to, I would. But the real Benny, would never let me.

I always found this moment fascinating. Sure Dean looks within himself and realises he doesn’t want to do this, he wants to keep fighting, keep living, but the impetus that snaps him out of his dark state of mind and to this realisation? That his friend, the real Benny, wouldn’t let him do this. 

Dean’s always been someone who forged these deep complex connections with other characters. There’s Cas of course, Benny, Charlie, Claire and even Crowley, which was also a very interesting and complicated relationship. These bonds were important to him, they changed him. If there’s any doubt how important, just listen to what dream Benny, who once again is just a manifestation of Dean’s own thoughts, says to him about the worst case scenario that could happen if Dean gives into the mark.

Benny: What., you just wanna wait for the Mark to reclaim you? Go out swinging, die topside, then what? Maybe kill a few humans? Kill Cas? Kill your brother? Yeah, that’s mighty honorable!

Dean: Benny, shut up!

Benny: Oh, I-I’m sorry. I forgot… about your plan. You gonna get Sam and Cas to put you down? You really think that they’re gonna keep that agreement? Come on. Dean, let’s say they do. Do you think they will ever recover from that? It will ruin them.

Benny’s not really saying anything here that we don’t know about Sam and Dean’s relationship. Dean is well aware of how important he is to Sam, and how it would break him to have to hurt his older brother, if he could ever bring himself to do that. 

What’s interesting (and I don’t think I mentioned it in my “Dean’s thoughts about how Cas feels” post) is that Dean also seems to know how much he matters to Cas. I mean remember earlier in the season when took Cas for lunch? Cas saw right through Dean’s “I’m fine” posturing, after which Dean made Cas promise to kill him if it came down to it. Seems like Dean always knew Cas wouldn’t be able to do it, and that even if he somehow could, it’s not something he could live with afterwards. Turns out Dean was right. Cas didn’t have a plan if he couldn’t convince Dean to stop. He knew after everyone Dean loved was gone, he’d still be there. He would stay with him and “watch him murder the world” but he wouldn’t be able to kill him.

I’ve seen a lot of talk post finale about how the writers never cared, and it was all a waste and people were reading into things etc and I have two points to make on that 

a) an incoherent ending doesn’t suddenly erase the hundreds of episodes of content that came before it. If themes, stories, character traits/personalities were consistently shown a certain way throughout the course of the show, that’s not all now worthless just because the finale didn’t live up to what it should have been.

b) Spn more than any other show has an interesting kind of writers room. The writers had very distinct individual voices, and were given a lot of free reign on how they presented their stories and the themes they focused on. I mean on no other show I watch do I know the names of all the individual writers and can pinpoint when I’m watching one of their episodes just from the way the characters are presented. You know when it’s an Edlund episode. You can tell when it’s a Yockey episode.

Same with Berens. You can chart all of Bobo’s episodes from beginning to end (9x06 - 15x18) and see how consistent he is with how he writes these characters and envisions their story. How important Dean is to Cas and vice versa? He repeatedly emphasises it. Dean’s state of mind and his sense of self awareness? He’s fantastic at that. See all of the above, not to mention he wrote that wonderful speech that Dean gives to Mary in her head in 12x22, where he talks about how he had to be a mother and a father to Sam. 

And last but not least, he’s always made sure to highlight the connections that Sam and Dean have, especially Dean. That stayed true almost up until the end. And God yes I’m so frustrated that all this work, all this beautiful storytelling didn’t seem to factor into the finale at all, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. Journey, not destination and all that.

I’m not writing off years of intricate character work that has led me to love these characters and stories so much. There’s too much good here.

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 7X4 Defending Your Life

I'm making an exception today, because I've figured out QUITE a bit about my own stress response

oh right the monster Dean killed

also to recap: my period has every sign of starting(including cramps) but nothing, I've been horribly nauseous all day, I feel a hunger response when I'm DEFINITELY not hungry(stress eating and it's the only thing that makes the nausea subside) and headache(altho that could be the lack of sleep). Also emotions all over the place(Crying, happy, very on the hat etc)

and the WORST part is I can NEVER tell until I have physical reactions. I can NEVER TELL WHAT MY EMOTIONS ARE WHAT DOES THAT MEAN I THOUGHT I WAS PERFECTLY OK OR NOT FEELING ANYTHING

ooo chase scene

gHOST CAR

ooo good segway into intro

that cut coping mechanism does NOT seem like it's healthy

mONSTER OF THE WEEK

oh COME ON HERE's THE LYING

the visuals are cool

"license to kill"

no come on sam that was a good one.

"dead and sober, dead and crappy" no Dean, please, you need to figure that out

ah yes tortured soul

FL OW ER SH O P

that was suspicious

oh

it's just because she's dead and dead at 10

oh

the CAr

"makes you wonder if the guy who was drunk ran her over" *drinks beer*

O H H H H H HSIDOFAHPAS

GHOST RIDER

at least I know they're nerds, whoever wrote this

is it manifesting their guilty conscience

aw but the dog is so fluffy

*lies down, bounces back up again* lmaooo

Dean is Tired

didn't they DEAL With a ghost car?

it's people that kept going?

DEAN IS RUNNING ON SO MUCH EMPTY AHAHAHA

A H CUZ HE DIDN'T SLEEP BECAUSE THE GIRL HE KILLED

that took me as second

"If I ate apples" DEAN

also they're really doing license plate shots above how Cool the Impala is shots now, lil thing

"you won't even believe me" ahaha

...courtroom?

fUCKING NEAL'S TAVERNNNN

we kind of specialize in crazy ahaaha

"except that's complete crap"

"everyone judges all day long"

He just..takes punishment?

ahahah N O P E GREY AREA

no this is way more watchable

SA M SOUNDS SO TIRED AHAHA

*whispers* "stay put"

he DOES look good though

ok fine just gonna tune out the flirting

they ARE both pretty

is it that guy

the creepy guy in the shadows

how much is in scotch I have no idea

ah the red, what people were clawing

THAT'S NOT HOW OSIRIS WORKS but fine ok let's go

THAT'S NOT

ok fine

"it hones in on people who feel guilty, N OW WHO DOES THAT SOUND LIKE TO YOU" oh boy literally both of them got it that was hilarious

this does seem like he's talking himself into a role

the salt...might not work for osiris

shit she really is pretty

AH RED SAND ok ok yeah I see it ok

a h egyptian shit

ALL YOU NOTICED WERE THE SYMBOLS LMAOOO

THAT DOOR SLIDE WAS SO FUNNY

He's cool though, I like the pagan shit

"Sam, you're not a lawyer" "yes I was pre law" "pre"

"good one" "I saw that on the good wife"

THIS IS HILARIOUS

J O

oh no

the mining itself sucks but this concept is good

took his breathing away?

It reads a bit as excusing them for everything

She backs them up at least?

I miss her

see here's the thing, it kinda reads like they're out of ideas, but like...it's a good concept

ah so the stuff at the beginning was them showing their guilt

I like how he just says "them's the breaks"

yeah like Dean is ever gonna believe he's innocent

"dog food" oh they so desperately wanna say dog shit

"they want to be judged" echoes Dean

SAM IS TALKING COMPLETELY OUT OF HIS ASS

HE'S GETTING HIM OUT OF HIS GUILT COMPLEX OH THANK GOD FINALLY

"that it just...blows"

no one, including Dean, ever questions it, so the grief stews

oh

he does actually have some way with words

Dean please tell the truth

mate I get the impulse but still

dammit

ahaha Temporary but Long Temporary

"make sure it's a sharp piece" lmaoo

man I miss Jo

ah here we go

sam: u h

JOOOO

"you deserve better" on both ends

Dean Eldest Daughter Syndrome

"hunters are never kids, I never was"

he does Internalize things

that's why we kin

90% crap

"i get rid of that what then" "you really wanna die not knowing" HOLY SHIT

HOLYSHIT OH MY GOD OH MYGOD

ah the gas stove

"he's making me do this" oH NO

"just kind of faded...maybe a little bit happier"

hell was Sam's slate? huh

"I kind of feel good, Dean" I am glad he's happy, I don't know if I agree with the message

1. SAMMM. Dean was acting off the shits, so he had to step up and exasperatedly handle everything, and piece stuff together. Like mans is actually quite smart and quite resourceful when he has to be, and it's nice seeing that. It's also fun FINALLY seeing him lighthearted again, even if I don't like how.

2. Dean's guilt complex. Man internalizes a lot of things, and while they BARELY make sense(thin veneer, easily cracked) he hides it enough so that no one asks(and he represses so he certainly doesn't), and he can continue feeling guilty. Now here's the thing. He feels guilty, Sam doesn't, the middle ground is where they should be(taking responsibility) and they like...never do it.

3. monster of the week. No but having monsters switch to grey instead of black and white, and having Dean comment on it is SO good, because he's like...that Masculine Parody/Ideal depending on who's writing him, and like he was written to be the hero. any gray was always overridden by that. But with kripke gone, they start actually doing grey, and there's nothing simple anymore. Like I like with how off the shits it got, they still kept the theme of "it's more grey now" but like kinda for real(where Dean and Osiris said the same thing). ALSO, I think it would be useful as a scale back. I know they'll not do it because EVEN BIGGER DBZ LAZER is fun, but I think having more monsters of the week by choice and not "oh god we have runtime" would be really good, because that's where this storyline SHINES! it's got a lot of characters, a lot of lore, and a lot of issues to pick through, a monster of the week is WAY more effective than a longer story, and would help the scaling back issue.

4. pontificating about the season/why it's easier to watch. Like is this season as good/vibey? probably not really, but honestly I can actually stand watching it. Like it's very cringe in places but also, it doesn't hurt me or make me feel uncomfortable as kripke stuff does. It matches the vibe of "after work/school show" perfectly for what it is.

5. the vibes/Osiris. I like the idea of osiris and going to the bars, and the courtroom and the RED! SAND!! I got that one. But I'd also like to say that Dean saying the SAME thing that osiris said was like...he's not villainized, but I think they're trying to make him slowly grow as a character. It's like sympathy/he sucks kinda/we like him for him a sa character and I think that was really neat.

also barkeep lady pretty holy hell

6. it felt a little bit like excusing tho. Like if Sam is the good one, then it felt like excusing them of the harm they cause people. I want them to change their behavior! not beat themselves up over it or think it's fine cuz he went to hell because of it!

I'm so glad Sam is happy again but N O

7. J O. the "no autonomy, he's making me do this," the being able to see through things(and no longer hungering for something that she doesn't really know) (like...she wants SOMETHING, has it crawling under her skin but doesn't know what, and that's gone when she's dead) and that whole thing where she asked Dean if he wanted to die as a persona. Oh my god.

8. Dean persona. Yeah the whole thing where he had to convince himself to be a womanizer, the "I"m 90% crap line" OH MY GODD THAT HIT. That man is also a persona. maybe a commentary on american masculinity in general, maybe not. Also, eldest daughter syndrome, he internalizes everything and everything is his responsibility("I didn't get a childhood")

I feel like you can also make an argument how trauma makes you the extreme of something(uncaring for smol sam, internalizing for Eldest Dean), and it breaks your ability to do what you need to(empathetically do your fucking job and not be pieces of shit).

I see why this show was so popular amongst mentally ill people(myself included) holy christ

[imagineswriting47]

Not as easy as you Think

A/N: So, this took me a long time to get out, and for that, I apologize. This is for @sam-winchester-deserves-love, who asked, Hi! I wanted to request an SPN imagine where Sam and Dean are on a hunt with the reader and get turned into girls. You can continue this because I have no idea :P It took a darker turn than I expected; it is Dean orientated. I hope that is alright 

Warnings: attempted Non-Con. For 18+ only, please!

Summary: When the Boys and the Reader are after a Witch, Sam and Dean are turned into Women. It does not go as smoothly as they think on their trip home.

Pairing: Dean/Reader Kind of.

The thing about hunting with the Winchesters is that there is never a dull moment to be had. With all the times that they have been to Hell and well died, you would think that they would be used to the weird that happens in our life, but this has to take the cake on funny. It was to be a simple hunt. A Witch was causing some trouble in some small town, and we went to deal with it. And, of course, Sam couldn’t flirt back, causing both him and Dean to be cursed or something. Turning both of them into women, and honestly, it’s not fair. They are both smoking hot men in their own right, but as women, they are drop-dead gorgeous. 

Dean’s tall frame and slender body were like a Victoria secret model. His green eyes are still as beautiful as the first time that I looked into them. Long, wavy blonde hair, so smooth and silky, almost as if it was tailored from gold fabric. But even now, his face with all the beauty that would put models to shame, I could still see Dean. See the closed-off look in his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders how I wished every day to take some of that burden from him if he would just let me.

Sam was now what you would call classically beautiful; his brown eyes held such intelligence that it was impossible for me not to be held prisoner by them. His cheekbones were still something that all women would be jealous of. There was a certain symmetry to his features, and perhaps that's what held me so captivated by his beauty as a woman. His hair was long and fluid, lying gently over his shoulder and down to his waist. It was all I could do not to stutter and blush when he called me by name after they had been hit with the spell. 

I could not help but feel jealous of their looks. I was never what you would call beautiful. I was never girly. I have always been comfortable in my jeans and a T-shirt that was a two size too big for my frame. Preferring to hide my body from the world that way, I could not be a judge because my stomach was not as flat as I desired that I didn’t have the curves that the models on tv did. No, I was not beautiful, and now standing next to the Winchester boys as women did, that reinforces this fact in my mind.

Dean honestly was like a kid in a candy store when he finally calmed down after the anger that he was feeling at first—thinking of all the money that he could now hustle from people on our trip back to the Bunker. All the complimentary beverages that he could get. Only did his joy change to worry when Sam was the voice of reason and told him they need to find a way to undo the spell unless he wanted to stay a woman for the rest of his life. Dean and Sam didn’t want to stay women, of course, why would they? Sometimes I wouldn't say I liked it myself.

We had stopped at a roadside truck stop no different than any of the ones that came before it. I was dirty. The food had enough grease to kill us, and we had all the male attention enough that I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I usually would not be afraid to have two men bother over six feet with me, but at the moment, it didn’t look like that to an outsider. I know what some men are capable of doing. How dangerous the life of a woman could be. I just prayed to whoever would listen that we could get out of there without incident. I was wrong in that hope 

At some point, Dean gets up from the table without me noticing. I automatically worry about what could be happening to him. Telling Sam that I would be right back, I get up from the table myself and head to the bathroom, hoping that Dean just went there and not outside the building. 

I heard a loud clicking noise and watched as two men walked into the women’s bathroom. I moved as fast as I could to open the door without bringing out the others' suspicion in the building, my bare hands pushing against the rough surface of the door. The door stood stubbornly in its place, Locked I could feel my blood run cold. A shudder ran through me as I could hear the muffled voices of the two men and Dean on the other side. Trapped, Dean was caught. I was so scared that my heart missed a beat. Knowing that the lock holding the door closed was no match for me if I chose to kick it down. I did just that.

Once in the bathroom, both men turn to me with a look of surprise. I find Dean with his back pressed against the wall with the look of fear on his face. I even know that in the end, Dean can take care of himself on an average day. But this was not a typical day and an event that he has ever faced before. I see red. The next thing both men are on the ground passed out as I am pulling Dean from the bathroom. 

By the time Sam gets to the bathroom, I have Dean’s hand in mine and pulling him from the room. I grab the keys from the table and leave enough money to cover the bill, and leave some as a tip before the three of us walk from the building. It is not the poor waitresses’ fault for those guys. She should not be punished for their behavior. I think about calling the police about what happened. But in the end, they are no help. As far as I have ever encountered when it comes to the police, it is always the woman’s fault that they get assaulted.

 I can see the questions look on Sam’s face as he slides into the backseat of the Impala as I climb into the driver’s seat and Dean into the passenger seat. I make sure that the rest of the way back to the Bunker, I keep his hand in mine, knowing how terrified that he must be even if he doesn’t want to show it. No words are spoken as we travel home. I know at some point that Sam is going to ask me what happened. But right now, Dean is my main priority. Once back at the Bunker, Dean quickly climbs out of Baby and lets go of my hand. Part of me can't help but miss the warmth of his hand in mine.

After a hot shower to relax my muscles, I walk into the library to find them both with large books in front of them. I don't think that I have ever seen Dean concentrating this much when it comes to research. Not that Dean is dumb by any standard. He might even be more intelligent than Sam, not that Dean would ever say something like that. If Dean would have been given a chance at a healthy life, a life without hunting and monsters, I know he could of went to any college if he wanted to. But there is no point in asking about the what-ifs. We are Hunters, and the past cannot be changed no matter how much we sometimes want. 

“You two need to get some sleep,” I tell them as I take a seat across from Dean. All I want to do is reach out and play with his hair. It’s so long and looks so soft I want to touch it. I don't think that would go over well, so I hold myself back from it. I don't get a response, and I’m not expecting one. He hasn’t said anything since I pulled him out of that bathroom. He might not be saying it, but what happened has scared him. I gently take the book from Deans’ hand and mark the page before doing the same to Sam. They are still my boys, and I will take care of them even if it might make them mad at me. 

“Bed. Both of you need to get some sleep. We can start again tomorrow.” Sam nods his head before standing and heading to his room. Not before giving me a pointed look that lets me know that we will talk about what happened later. I nod my head, letting him know that I understand. “Let’s go, Dean.” I grab his hand before standing up myself and pulling him to his feet. We head to his room, knowing that he would want me to sleep in his room with him. We started sharing a bed after horrible hunts after I was almost killed, and Dean was blaming himself and didn’t want to leave my side while I was resting. We both might be physically fine but mentally is a whole different story. Dean has been through the wringer, and he needs me even if he doesn’t want to say that he does. Dean has never been good at asking for comfort and never been good at asking for anything. Sometimes I think that he forgets that he is allowed to have feelings. That he is more than just a soldier. 

Once in his room, Dean quietly sits on his bed as I shut the door behind myself. I walk over and get some T-shirts and boxers for him to sleep in. “Come on, arms up.” I pull the shirts that he is wearing over his head. Both he and Sam had to take one of my bras that I packed. Thank Chuck that I packed more than one. I never know what will happen on a hunt, and wearing a bra that is covered in blood, and any manner of monster stuff doesn’t sound that fun to me. Knowing how uncomfortable sleeping in a bra can be, I reach behind him and undo it, pulling it from his body before pulling the clean shirt over his head. I try to keep my eyes from looking at his body and knowing that it is not what he needs right now.

I gently pull his now long hair from the back of his shirt. He doesn’t need to be told to change his pants and does it without being asked as I have my back to him looking for the extra hairbrush that I keep in his room. When I turn back to him, he is once again sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, eyes closed and looking down at the floor.

I creep over to the bed before sitting behind him. He jumps when he feels me sit down. I don't let that stop me this time as I reach out for his hair. And I was right it as to be the softest hair that I have ever felt. I calmly start to pull the brush through his hair, making sure I have all the knots out. His head is tilted back towards me when I am satisfied that his hair is now knot-free. 

“I now understand why you get scared in places like that Y/N.” I pull his hair all to one side before wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his back before speaking. “I know we hunt monsters. I know that this is a dangerous life we lead, but the biggest threat that I will ever have to face is the fact that I am a woman.” I pull myself tighter to him as I am talking, taking what comfort that I can in the fact that I still have Dean here. That those men didn’t hurt him. That they didn’t assault him like I know that they had been planning to. That Dean had to learn something that all little girls are forced to learn at a young age.  

“Come on, Dean, let's get some sleep,” I whisper as I pull myself away from him. I move off the bed and pull the covers back before climbing as Dean follows suit, I move to have his head under my chin and my arms wrapped around him. With my fingers running up and down his spine, he slowly falls to sleep. Even with how tired I am, it takes me some time to fall asleep as well. 

When I wake the following day, I turn over into bed and find that the other side has gone cold, telling me that Dean has been up for some time. While I love living in the Bunker knowing that I am safe inside its wall, sometimes I miss having windows to know what time it is when I wake up. Climbing out of bed and walking into the library, knowing that is where I am most likely to find Sam and Dean researching a way out of the spell that turned them into women. 

“It must have worn off overnight, man. I can't complain. It was bizarre, being in a different body.” I overhear Sam say to who can only be Dean As I don't think that Cas is back from where ever it is he went this time. “Dude, what happened at the truck stop. I hear a door get kicked in, and by the time I get there, two guys are passed out on the ground.” I know that Sam is worried about whatever happened, but I don't know if Dean will want to talk to him about it. Dean has always been the tough one. The protector of both Sam and me and to feel the helplessness that comes with what happened. It is not something that you get over. I know I have been there. I know what it is like to have men get that way. To be touched without your permission. The threat of men taking from you what they want, not caring what you want or how you feel. Not listening when you tell them ‘No, Stop.’ 

“Nothing Sammy don't worry about it.” Typical Dean is trying to downplay everything that happened. I hope that I can get him to talk to me. It helps to get it off your chest. With that, I walk into the room, mumble a “Good Morning” before walking over and taking a seat next to Dean. Reaching for his coffee, I take a sip, knowing that I am possibly the only person on Earth that can do that. Sam saw that nothing was going to be said on the subject walks out of the room. I know at some point he is going to come and talk to me, but first, I need to speak to Dean.

“Dean, do you want to talk about it?”

“Has something like that ever happened to you before Y/N?”

“Yes, Dean. More times than I care to admit. And it terrifies me every time. I want you to know that you are not alone. You will never be alone. I will not let anything like that happen to you if I have it my way.” I know now that he is back into his average body that the threat of rape has gone down for him. I can see the tears gather in his eyes, and it breaks my heart. Dean so very rarely cries. I pull him onto a hug, and before I know it, I am drawn into his lap, his arms holding me tight to him, almost to the point of pain.

“I know Y/N. Thank you.”

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please leave a heart or re-blog. Your response is what keeps me going. Also, requests are open, so send them in!!

[impala-dreamer]

Her Secret

SPN FanFic

~During a fight scene on set, Misha discovers something very interesting about his costar and uses it to his advantage later that night.~

Misha x Reader, Jensen, OCs

2,283 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Kinks galore. Rough, scary roleplay. Spanking. Knives. Misha being hot af.

A/N: Written as a commission for my darling @crashdevlin​. Hope you all enjoy

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

"Cas! Look out!" Dean shouted across the dark room as the demon flung herself at the angel.

Castiel caught her and spun, pulling the shrieking woman against his chest. His angel blade glinted as it rose to her throat, preternaturally sharp edge pressing into her flesh.

Y/N gasped.

"Cut! Sorry, guys. Light issue. Back to ones."

Misha spun Y/N out of his arms like a dance, pulling a gorgeous laugh from her.

"You're making me dizzy with all this spinning, dude," she laughed, stumbling a bit as he let her go.

Misha grinned and shrugged innocently. "You love it."

"Settle!"

Y/N was back in place across from Misha, ready once more to attack. He gave her a subtle wink as the scene began again.

Jensen cleared his throat. "Cas!" he bellowed. "Look out!"

The demon rushed towards Castiel, but he caught her and spun, pulling the screeching woman against his chest. His angel blade glinted in the dim light of the warehouse as it rose to her throat, preternaturally sharp edge pressing into her flesh.

Y/N whimpered gently and her shoulders dropped an inch.

“Cut! Sorry, sorry. Once more. Misha, can you press a little deeper with the blade? We’re not getting the dimple on her skin.”

“Uh, yeah.” Misha let Y/N go and spun her gently this time. “That OK with you?”

She stumbled backwards a step, her eyes a little hazy and unfocused. “Y-yeah. Yes. Good.”

Jensen moseyed over from his place across the room and lay a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, making her jump. “Is he bothering you, ma’am?” he teased, nodding over at Misha.

Y/N bit her lip to hide a smile and shook her head. “I think he’s trying to kill me, actually.”

Jensen mock gasped and pushed her back to stand behind him for safety. “Well, we can’t have that!” He balled his fist and plunged it into Misha’s gut. The angel took the fall with much grace and superb acting ability.

“Alright, let’s go! Back to one!”

“Cas! Look out!”

Castiel dodged the demon’s advance, reaching up to grab a handful of her hair as he yanked her backwards, spinning her body against his. He pressed the blade hard against her throat, magical steel pushing into her skin.

Y/N moaned deeply in the back of her throat as her body melted subtly against Misha’s chest. He felt her ass brush against his cock and a surge of heat passed between them. He took a deep breath of her, eyes closing for just a moment as chemicals and pheromones flew through his system.

“Get off me, Angel!” she yelled, thrashing against his hold.

Y/N was only half dressed when the knock sounded at her trailer door. Quickly, she tightened the sash on her bathrobe and stepped barefoot down into the stairwell.

Whoever it was knocked again before her hand hit the lock.

“Just a second!”

The lock gave and the door rushed open, Misha stepping inside before Y/N could even see who it was.

“Uh, come in?” She laughed, backing up the stairs as Misha advanced, blue eyes dark and set on her face.

“Hi.” He smirked, devilish voice making her shiver. He took the last step quickly and came towards her, holding a large kitchen knife in his fist.

Y/N looked from his pink lips to this hand, smiling even as worry crept up her spine. “Are you here to murder me?” she joked.

Misha ran the tip of his tongue over the bottom of his top teeth and dipped his chin as he stared. “Better.”

“Better?”

He was on her in a flash, grabbing her upper arm to lead her back against the trailer wall. She hit with a thud, air pushing from her lungs in a deep groan.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she gasped, looking up into lust-darkened eyes.

Misha lifted the knife, twirling it a bit so she could see that it was real; sharp edge thin and bright in the lamplight. “You didn’t tell me you had a knife kink, Y/N.”

Her stomach flipped. Her eyes glazed.  “A what?”

The blade touched her throat and Y/N whimpered, her eyes widening, lips parting.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he urged, pushing the knife gently against her. “Tell me this isn’t making your pussy throb.”

“I…” Her breath was leaving too quickly, there was nothing left to push the words out.

Keeping the knife on her neck, Misha used his free hand to sneak up underneath the bathrobe. The heat of his hand turned her skin into a mess of goosebumps and Y/N bit her lip hard. His palm fit perfectly over her bare cunt, heel pressing upwards against her clit.

“See?” he said with a smug smile. “You’re soaked.” Misha curled two fingers inside and Y/N breathed a moan that made him dig even deeper. “I knew it. I knew it on set when you made that little noise that only I could hear. Knew it went you fell back against me. You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, Y/N?”

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing against the blade. “Yes…”

He pumped his fingers hard, watching as her cheeks flushed, and then pulled his hand away, lifting it to her lips. “You are.” Misha shoved his fingers into her mouth and Y/N sucked instinctively, cleaning her own taste from his thick digits. "So very dirty."

His finger came away with a thick line of spit and Y/N felt weak, sliding down against the wall.

"Ah, ah, ah…" Misha clicked his tongue in disappointment and grabbed her arm tight, lifting her back up an inch. "Where do you think you're going?"

The knife was firm against her throat and Y/N sucked in a deep breath as the blade pressed in even more.

“It would be wise to hold still,” Misha instructed, reaching down between them to open his jeans. She felt his knuckles brush against her bare skin; hot and rough, making her pussy clench in anticipation. “Try not to squirm.” The look in his eyes was pure excitement hidden by layers of lust and adventure. “I could slip and kill you.”

Y/N chewed her lip as he withdrew his cock and pushed it into the gap of her thighs, warming it up, rubbing slowly. He rocked his hips and Y/N’s vision clouded over. She stood as still as she could, but nothing could prevent her chest from rising and falling with such heavy breaths or the slight tremble of her thighs as his cock hardened between them.

“M-misha…” she murmured his name and his smile returned; a slight curl of upper lip, a flash of evil in his sapphire eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

She startled, blinking away the haze of arousal. “What?”

His thrusts continued; back and forth, covering his erection in her slick. “Do you trust me?” he asked again, softer, slower.

Her breath was ragged; voice cracked, strained. “Yes.”

It all happened so fast. The blade vanished from her throat. Her pussy cooled as his hips backed away. Y/N screamed through clenched teeth as Misha grabbed a fistful of her hair and spun her around, forcing her to walk to the couch. He stopped her when her knees hit and yanked the bathrobe from her shoulders, tossing it away, leaving her cold and naked save for the bra she’d managed to put on before he arrived.

“Now that’s a sight,” he growled, fitting a big hand between her shoulder blades and giving her a shove. She stumbled forward and Misha kept his hand in place, asserting a firm pressure, bending her over the arm of the couch.

Y/N gasped as the blade hit the back of her thigh; cold, flat steel searing her skin. “Oh, fuck.”

She couldn’t see the smirk upon his pink lips, but she could hear it in his voice. “Such a slut. Look at this ass.” He grabbed her flesh, digging blunt nails into her soft cheeks. “So...delicious.” Each side got a turn before he slapped her left and the crack rang out through the silence around them.

Y/N stiffened but held her tongue.

“Oh, you like this too, don’t you?”

“No…”

Misha slapped the opposite cheek, watching as her back tightened and then relaxed; felt her thighs begin to shake against him. “Don’t lie to me,” he grit, slamming down in the same spot. “I know all your secrets now, Y/N. You can’t hide from me.” Another crack and then the blade. He pressed it against the redness, soothing the ache with the cool metal.

“Misha…” Her voice was a prayer, strangled and desperate. “Please.” She could feel herself dripping, her desire running freely down her inner thighs.

He leaned down, covering her back with his body; firm, warm, solid. The head of his cock nudged at her asshole and Y/N twitched beneath him.

“You want something?” he whispered, reaching with his tongue to trace the curve of her ear.

“Yes…” Her breasts were smashed over the arm of the couch, her belly crushed under his weight. “Please, Misha.”

His cock pressed against her hole, his lips tickled her ear. Misha dragged the knife slowly up her side, sharp tip ghosting over her skin. “Say it and you can have it.”

“I…”

Misha reached around with his free hand and grabbed her throat, squeezing lightly. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

She sucked in as much air as she could, mind in a fog as his fingers tightened and the blade ascended. “I need you to fuck me, Misha. Please.”

He smiled against her cheek and sucked her earlobe through his thick lips.

“Please!”

He laughed. “Nah.”

He was gone in a blink, leaving Y/N gasping, still bent over and shaking. She stood up, shocked at his denial, and turned, ready to tell him off.

The knife stopped her cold.

Misha was a yard away, his arm extended, tip of the knife aimed at her heart.

Adrenaline rushed through her system and Misha puckered his lips, dipping his chin to eye her dangerously.

“Run.”  

There was nowhere to go. To her left was the little kitchenette, behind him the door, and to her right lay a tiny bedroom, but it was too far. The best choice for escape was the door. Her eyes floated over his shoulder to the door, but Misha shook his head.

“Not a great plan,” he told her, cocking his head in the strangest way. He looked like the devil, like Lucifer was tucked away inside of him, and the thought made Y/N’s heart race.

Her only choice was the bedroom.

She took a breath.

Misha licked his lips.

Y/N turn on her heel and ran.

She made it to the bedroom but that had been his plan all along. Misha grabbed her from behind and twirled her in his arms as they both went down; the perfect tackle, landing gracefully on her bed.

"You can't run from your desires," he growled. "Not from me." He sat up on his knees and took each of her wrists, pinning them in one big hand above her head. "Or this." He turned the knife in his hand, showing her the length and fine edges, the heft of the hilt in his palm.

She shivered beneath him, squirming, twisting her hips lustfully, needing everything he had threatened.

Tongue between his teeth, Misha pressed the knife beneath her chin, drawing her eyes up to his, halting her thrashing. "Now, be a good girl and you won't get hurt."

Her eyes rolled as the blade made its way down her body. Misha was in complete control, using the sharp tip to pimple her flesh, halt her breath, move her where he wanted. It was all him and Y/N surrendered every bit of herself.

The knife curled around the puffy mountain of each breast and settled between. With a flick of his wrist, misha sliced through the fabric holding her bra in place, and her tits were freed, firm and ripe for his kiss.

Y/N moaned as his tongue flickered over each nipple, cried out as the blade traced the middle of her, screamed his name as he finally reached home, filling her up with his thick cock.

He left before sunrise, having taken her once more when he woke. She lay on the bed, a happily used and satisfied mess of limbs and wetness. Her body ached in the best way, pussy sensitive and raw, lips swollen and numb.

Y/N was already in the makeup chair when he came in; blue eyes finding hers in the big mirror. He greeted everyone as if nothing had happened the night before, and Y/N felt her clit throb as he walked behind her.

Cheryl unzipped Y/N's hoodie, needing to powder her shoulders for the day's scene. A thin red line revealed itself; jugular down, continuing well passed where Cheryl dared to look.

"Um, is everything OK?" she asked softly.

Y/N gasped and hid her shock with a laugh. She hadn't seen the marks until then either, and she looked at herself in the mirror, pulling back the sweatshirt to see more clearly. The shining blade flashed through her mind and she could feel it on her skin again.

She shivered.

"Oh, uh…" Y/N cleared her throat and shrugged. "Must have scratched myself in my sleep."

In the mirror, she could see his smirk, that devilish grin that drove her wild, and Y/N felt her pussy start to leak all over again.

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwinchesterswitch @desiree---1986  @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @melbelle45 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear  @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @the-chocolate-moose @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55​ @wendibird​ @winecatsandpizza​ @winterpoohbear​

[queenofgoats]

Shadows & Fears | Imagine having a date with Crowley

Summary: You’re the lucky human being who dived deep into the SPN Universe. Unfortunately you fell in royal demonic hands. So let’s see how you will get out.

Characters | !no pairs! : Crowley x Reader (gender not mentioned)

Word Count: 2.708

Warning: angst, alcohol, flirtations and words = just spn ;), no cheesy romance stuff

A/N: So. It's been a long, long time since I wrote a FF at all. And it’s my very first in english - so please be gentle. ;) I had a lot of fun while writing and hope whoever is gonna read it enjoys it at least a little bit. Feedback is very welcome. 

Have fun! :)

You were led through endless corridors. Which was hardly lighted up or even heated.   Only in the last room at the end of the hall you could  just guess a warm, flickering light. The thought of what was behind door 3 made you freeze. “Hey, what is the... OH COME ON!” you were shouted at. You didn’t dare to move. Like a deer in the face of the light at a highway.   A rough grib on the upper arm forced you to go on. Your breath became heavier. Faltering. Would the brothers come and save you? At the door frame you stuck again. You couldn’t, no, you didn't want to go in there. This would be your end.

And you were so careful. No involvement in the cases, at most some background research. Even to Sam and Dean you didn’t mention a word about their fate, however difficult it was. And damn it, it did! Still, you knew that it was only a matter of time before the bubble burst.   You just wanted a coke from the vending machine at the motel. As if out of nowhere they suddenly stood behind you. Two middle-aged men, really nondescript-looking and before your lips could even form a “help”, you found yourself in the back of a minivan. They were fast, strong and scary quiet. You didn’t know what happened to you until you saw these deep pitch black eyes in the rearview mirror. This couldn’t be true! Your thoughts circled around wildly, blurred and sheer panic ran through you like a poison, which slowly spreads in your nervous system. You knew these creatures very well. How they worked, what they drove or what they were capable of. And you knew him. So far from stories from Winchester or television. That alone was enough to make your blood run cold just imagine what's ahead of you. Various breakdowns later, you were already standing in this old freezer - probably an old slaughterhouse. He loved the atmosphere.

Again the grib at your arm. But this time you stucked. Everything in you resisted. The demon right next you groaned. Apparently babysitting wasn't in his payroll. His face reflected disgust and a certain… overwhelming? “Finally, we meet. Birdie.” This voice. This damn, damn voice. Your eyes squeezed tight, you hoped it was just an imagination. Or maybe you weren't meant. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Slowly he came closer. His presence crushed you, while your body wouldn’t stop shaking. You have never faced anything so dark and threatening.   A hand on your back made you wince. It barely touched the fabric of your top and yet it resembled an iron grip. You blinked open your eyes, the gaze fixed on the floor. A pair of very elegant lace-ups with fine lyra perforations caught your attention. You swallowed.

The king of hell pushed you into the room surprisingly gently and yet firmly. Closing the door made you flinch. You were terrified. So incredibly terrified. “Please, sit down. Don't be shy, my dear. " Breathing heavily, you complied with his request. It was a miracle that you could even hear his words over your hard pounding heartbeat. Crowley was one of your favorite baddies. You hated how he left the show. But you never wanted to meet him. For obvious reasons.   The demon took a seat next to you at a large table. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that one of his peasants stood by the door. The fire in the fireplace slowly thawed you again, but you still shivered. If not at the hand of this monster, you would probably die of pneumonia. You couldn't decide which was better. “Soo...” Crowley started smoothly voiced and as if caught you looked up at him. “We both know why you are here, it’s up to you if we stay in this chilly atmosphere or...” He smirked slightly.  

His hazel eyes drilled through yours, you felt like he was looking straight into your heart. While his voice was so calming and gentle. In fact, if it weren't Crowley himself, you'd find some pleasure in it. You became disturbed by your own thoughts. Focus! For the first time in your suddenly short life you looked at him. Or more at his absolute charming vessel. You got a feel for why he was called the King of Crossroads. A sigh escaped your lips. You took a quick look at the second demon on the door and leaned slightly towards Crowley. Breathe in. Exhale.

“Fine. I’m talking. But! Just under one condition.” you tried to sound professional and acted businesslike. You had a plan. Kind of. But you weren't allowed to show any weaknesses for that. You also saw these kinds of conversations so often in tv shows. You could do it! A twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that you hit a point. Crowley didn't like arguing. Let alone from a simple human being like you. And yet he looked as if he had expected it. “Of course you have.” he mumbled almost bored. He grabbed himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip without leaving his eyes on you. “That would be? Let me guess y...” “I want a date!” you interrupted him hectically.   Crowley spat the drink across the desk: “A what?!” He didn’t even bother to hide his surprise. “With whom?” “You.”   There was silence for a short moment. The king of hell looked at you in disbelief. He really didn't expect that: “Why? What for?" You first took a look at the demon at the door, who didn't twist a mine, and then back to Crowley. “When I have told you everything, you kill me afterwards. That's ... okay I guess. But I don't want to die here in this hole. I want to shower, look good, and... be alone with you. A one-to-one conversation. Then you will find out everything you want to know.” You tried to smile triumphantly. “A good deal. For both, right?”

Actually you didn’t lie here. There will be no way to survive this. You’re not strong as the Winchesters, or smart like Kevin.   So why not make the best of it? Maybe you can avoid having him face his destiny? Maybe Lucifer won't be released from his cage?   Nobody except Crowley is allowed to hear this. Especially not one of the other demons. They would instant throw a welcome party for Abbadon. The king of hell stayed silent. Presumably he was wondering which part of your body to tear out first with his bare hands. He wasn’t exactly known for his patience. "I can tell you how you are going to die.“ you continued. For a brief moment he raised his eyebrows, but then he finally agreed: “Good. I choose the location."

You felt a painful sense of surprise and relief.

Just a few hours later your time had come.   You stood visibly nervous in front of the entrance of a big old cinema. The fingers kept pulling your clothes into place. Shortly after your deal, a servant brought you to Berlin. There you were allowed to freshen up and get dressed. Everything under the demon's watchful eye, of course. Crowley himself should receive you later in front of the location, it was said. And now you’re here. Oh damn what were you thinking? Sighing heavily, you looked over your shoulder. Maybe you should dare and just run away? Was it worth trying? Did you really want to be led to the slaughter like a pig? A thousand questions buzzed through your head. Yesterday was just a moment of panic. Not really thought out. Somehow. You turned on your heel and were just about to start a run when you heard his voice behind you again: “Birdie! You shouldn’t even think about that. We had an appointment.”

His words sounded so soft and smooth like a good red wine. Crowley knew exactly how to use his british charme.   You took another deep breath before turning to face him. A gentleman who would try, but couldn’t find his equals, Crowley smiled warmly and sweet. Yeah. Like good red wine. Soft and smooth. And poisoned. With an inviting gesture, he waved you over to him: “Let's have a drink, my dear. You look gorgeous by the way, really." He was different from when you first met him. Apparently he took his deals very seriously. You felt a bit like a prostitute's customer. You swallowed hard, but accepted his invitation.

First you entered a large reception room with sparse lighting.The ceiling was completely covered with small lamps that looked almost like a starry sky. While the old wood paneling made everything look a bit old and seedy. "The Kino International was built in the 1960s, right after they pulled up the big wall." Crowley broke the silence. There was a slight smile on his lips. “Oh well... I spent so many years in Germany,” he reminisced. As far as it was at all possible, you felt even more queasy.

A staircase took you to a large foyer in typical East German chic. Even if the brown dominated, it looked surprisingly classy. The chandeliers emitted pleasantly dimmed light, so that you could catch an overwhelming view of Berlin's landmark - the television tower - through the huge panorama windows. You are stunned.

~*~ Possession is the motivation ~*~   ~*~ That is hanging' up the God-damn nation ~*~

~*~ Looks like we always end up in a rut ~*~ ~*~ Tryin' to make it real, compared to what? ~*~

Roberta Flack's voice came to you calmly from the loudspeaker near the bar. If the initial situation were different, you would feel quite comfortable. Still astonished, you looked around as Crowley moved behind the counter. "What would you like to drink, my dear?" he broke your thoughts. “Erm... well... surprise me.” You sat down on one of the bar stools. The demon then rattled off all the barriers and drawers. Your eyes followed his movements until you blurted out: "I can't do this! Sorry!" Crowley furrowed his forehead: "What do you mean?" Desperately you threw your hands over your head. “This!” You bumped. "It’s ridiculous!"

You sighed. Hardly. “Are we really among ourselves here? Just you and me?" "Sure. As agreed." He said dryly as he handed you a freshly made cosmopolitan. You snatched the glass from him and drank the cocktail. In one sip. "Fine. Let’s do this." Then it literally gushed out of you. A long monologue about Abbadon, the darkness and everything that could be of interest to the king of hell. You only left out Chuck. Cause you already had Crowley on your neck and certainly didn't want to provoke God then.

The demon said nothing, just listened and at the same time seemed to be thinking about your words. When you were just finishing up, he put a new cocktail in front of you. Which you also emptied in one go. The nervousness just didn't want to be drunk away. "Mmh." he made. "Do the Winchesters know about it?" You shook your head. “Oleg and Bolek? Of course not." Knowing full well that they would only make it worse. As much as you loved the brothers, you knew that they were a danger to everyone around them. The confusion was written on Crowley's face: “But ... Why me? Don't get me wrong, Birdie, I'm honored and yet ... ” Inevitably you had to smile. "Let's be honest. You're probably the smartest being here. And you have the least interest of anybody else in seeing Lucifer free again. "Not untrue." he muttered. You tapped your finger on the edge of your glass: “Could I possibly get another one? Or wait! Better just the vodka. " Lost in thought, Crowley compiled while you listened to the well-chosen music.

With two glasses in hand, the king of hell stepped around the counter and sat down on one of the stools next to you. You knew you wouldn't leave this place alive. Nevertheless, a faint smile crept onto your lips. “You know Crowley, I like you. Somehow. You're practically my favorite baddie. " you started and held your glass out to him to toast," That's why I know what's in store for me. Still ... one more thing... or more a question." "Which would be? ... and cheers. ”, he checked. His gaze was on you. You couldn't help yourself because you suddenly felt comfortable around him. Safe. It was completely insane.  

The vodka burned your throat. You shook yourself briefly and turned to face him. “Crowley, what if I die here? I mean I don't belong here. No more than a disruptive factor in an intact universe. Am I, my soul, going somewhere or ... am I stuck? " The thought has plagued you since you (unintentionally) set foot in this cursed universe. You knew you didn't belong here. Every fiber of your body lets you feel it. All the time. So far you haven't really been able to grasp the fear, but rather suppressed it. But now it was sitting in a heavy weight on your shoulders. A deep sadness took you. Tears welled up in your eyes. You leaned against the demon next to you. The head was put  on his shoulder. You didn't want him to see you cry. Apparently you still have a bit of your pride left.  

You heard Crowley sigh. “Birdie, I can't tell you that. I don't know." His hand landed on your knee. It was surprisingly soft and warm, but nevertheless you twitched. “I've never heard of anything like you before. I'm sorry, and it really is, I can't help you.” Was it really Crowley who offered you comfort? Crowley? With a heavy heart you straightened up again. The alcohol slowly got into your head. Finally You leaned towards him, very close to his face. His breath brushed your cheek. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck which leads to goosebumps. You were mildly aroused and then grimaced as soon as you noticed.

The demon looked irritated: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” You felt stupid. “I just... I thought. You’re far far out of my league. Forget it. Please.” You wrapped the arms around you and blushed.   “I understand.” Crowley grinned. “Oh my sweet, sweet summer child.” He leaned back and studied you intently. “I don’t give a damn fuck about human current body preferences. It’s constantly changing anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m a demon, as you may remember, and all I desire is to spoil a pure soul beyond any recognition.” Embarrassed you thought about his words.

“Crowley...”, you began almost in a whisper, “would ... would you take my soul?” Hell didn't scare you nearly as much as the thought of your ghost going full vengeful in that old movie theater. He laughed. Loud. It was cold, arrogant and left you freezing. You felt it right down to the bones. "What should I do with it?" For the first time that evening, the demon came through him so clearly. You were afraid of him. More than ever before. You let him fool you. He leaned back in amusement and studied your shocked face. "Babe, your soul is useless." he said, still smirking and slid off his bar stool. "Another one?" he waved the glass. Ashamed you just nodded. You'd already got rejected dozent of times, but this was by far the worst.

Crowley prepared two glasses on the counter for you. The look he gave you was almost pityingly: "Oh Birdie, don't be like that now." Just slowly he moved back to you until he was right in front of you. "You are already useful." he whispered.   You looked at him wondering. And didn’t understand anything.

“Oleg and Bolek, as you called them so beautifully, still have the lost part of my demon tablet. And my prophet. ”He paused and took a long swig from his glass. "I would be crazy if I got rid of my pretty, little bait now, huh?" While he was speaking the last sentence in a haughty tone , his lips barely touched your ear. Tenderly he brushed a lost strand of hair from your face and patted your cheek.  

His demonic smile indicated that he was definitely the legitimate king of hell.

[lunellumcas]

So back when there was talk that this 15x10 might have a surprising big and genuine story moment, I had a sort of “wildest dreams” prediction I was quietly nursing: I was hoping in my heart of hearts for a coming out moment for Dean. ie. like, something ridiculous happens that sort of unluckily outs dean for laughs and it turns into a short sweet and genuine moment. (I figured it might be in this ep if any bc it would be meta enough to be judged “safe” bc the meta-ness makes room for plausible deniability by the audience receiving things that happen as sort of ridiculous jokes with little bearing on canon, though that’s of course not really true.) So after this ep I was thinking it’s kind of a shame that Dabb didn’t textually go there in this ep. And then I realized. He kind of did.

The subtext of this ep is a coming out in a major way—I think maybe even more than the subtextual homoeroticism in Last Call. It ups the subtext, I think, to a homoromanticism that’s very different from the standard homo subtext we usually see. Let me explain:

The first thing that struck me as odd is the dentist scene. (Anybody else associate dentists on spn with, you know, drilling?) I’m not even going to get into the dream sequence yet, I’m just talking about the frankly weird vibes I picked up on first watch between dean and Garth. Garth leads dean into the basement, saying “come on” and sort of physically (a little forcefully but not violently) guiding him down. Dean has what I guess is an expected reaction for someone who’s never “been to the dentist” before—he’s scared at first. But Garth relaxes him (you know, physically) and then he enjoys it. It didn’t hit me until I saw the little look of pleasure that slips onto Dean’s face when he loses his inhibitions, but that look really did something. Dean has this oddly transformative physical experience with Garth that involves drilling and is essentially euphemised with dancing.. and then after he’s sore but happy, a little embarrassed, but better off. ?!?!?!

Ok before I get into the dancing meta, I also want to mention that this transformative physical experience in the basement is followed by well, some butt references (I didn’t want to go here but I just have to mention it, because WHY) Not only is Dean penetrated by Garth’s dental equipment, he’s also called out specifically by these butt references: Garth tells Dean specifically “You need to get a colonoscopy stat,” and then Dean himself uses the colorful phrase “god yanked the magic horseshoe out of our ass.” Honorable mention, later on Dean goes right for the grenade launcher of bisexuality, tho he doesn’t get to use it. (But he does call it sweetheart and take it to the bathroom with him soooo).

Okay back to the Dean x Garth subtext: Dean’s little pseudo crush on Garth maintains through the ep: At first meeting they hug, Garth comments that dean smells good, dean steps back, a little discomposed. (Remember this is before the *experience*). When Garth takes dean down to the.. uh.. *white* room, dean comments on Garth’s strength, albeit he sounds a little intimidated by it, like he’s worried it might hurt him a bit (not enough for him to want to stop even if he’s performatively declining, uhuh, you know what I’m saying). After the drilling experience, at the warehouse, dean comments on Garth’s strength again, but this time his voice is full of admiration, appreciation, and yes, it sounds an awful lot like attraction. He even repeats “he’s so strong” to himself, soft and breathless. And the ep rounds out with another dean/Garth hug where this time dean leans into the hug, telling Garth that HE smells good before glancing down at Garth’s lips and then licking his own lips. This boy, I swear.

Ok now let’s go back to the dentist experience bc I think it’s sort of the key to this whole thing and is where the homoromanticism v. Homoeroticism ties in: There’s something very important about Dean’s dream dance sequence. I mean, on the surface, he’s dancing with another man, to a song that’s undeniably about sex (“They say the Spring Means just one thing To little lovebirds; We're not above birds, Let's misbehave!”) by a man that was widely believed to be bisexual (Cole Porter, thank you @wigglebox for pointing this out on my dash). Most importantly, midway through the song, Garth conspicuously disappears and is replaced by... a lamp. At first I thought this was odd. The disappearance was so conspicuous and I couldn’t place what it meant. I was like why can’t he dance with Garth 😭 just bc they’re two men? That’s not fair? If it was, like, Charlie, we would have seen it?

But then I realized that they couldn’t have them literally dance together (in a traditional slow dance hold) when that type of dance is shown to be explicitly romantic later in the ep. because that would impart romance here retroactively, and dean is not *actually* romantically interested in Garth. Garth is married (and, well, maybe in a way, Dean is too..) so if the show is pushing dean toward Garth, but Garth isn’t the actual destination, what is? Well, it’s gotta be the “lamp.” And the kicker is, dean didn’t have to slow dance with a lamp. There didn’t have to be slow dancing at all. But Dabb chose to make a real thing out of it, with the dream + the end. Why?

Alright, I’ll “come out” with it: it’s symbolic. Garth (and therefore Dean’s queer ROMANTIC subtext aimed at him) is a stand in for someone who isn’t there. Someone associated with light. Someone dean could dance happily with. Because in the end, as dean says “I could be a dancer”, we’re left with the impression that, like Garth and Bess, dean wants to dance with somebody (somebody who loves him). But whoever could it be????????? Who else is a man, that’s strong, that has saved dean, that has hugged him, that comforts him and impresses him and sometimes frustrates him, tries to sacrifice himself for him, is a little socially awkward, has a history with Dean, and is also such a strong part of the narrative that he’s being literally lampshaded with an actual lamp. Whoever could it be? We just don’t know.

But we do. I believe, like in the text of the song, the subtext of it means just one thing: Destiel.

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : He’s got a gun.

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Alex (OC), Detective Baker (OC), Azazel, Jack, Sam

Word count : 1,246

Warnings : Arrest, panic, fear, threats, guns Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers​

A/N : there is a time jump between the last chapter and this one of about a week or so.

Part 16 of Protector.

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“Dean. regular?” Alex asked.

Dean looked over from under the hood of the car he was working on and nodded. “You know it, kid.”

“What about your stalker?” Alex asked with a smirk. “Think he’s getting hungry?”  Dean shrugged and Alex turned and headed for the curb out front. “HEY BAKER? YOU HUNGRY?” Alex laughed as Baker scowled at him from his car across the street, before he turned and headed back in. “Sam? Lunch?”

As Alex took down Sam’s order, two other guys came over to give theirs. Alex wrote quick, nodding his head as he parroted each order back before moving on to the next. Once he was done, he tucked the paper in his jeans pocket and grabbed a credit card from Dean to pay for it all before headed out and down the street towards the diner.

Dean’s attention was still on the car when he heard a commotion out front and assumed it was Alex back with lunch. “Do you know where you are, asshole?” came Jack’s voice, and that made Dean furrow his brow.

“Fuck off, prospect.” whoever it was spat the title at Jack as if it equated him to shit beneath his heel, something that not only pissed Dean off, but other men in the garage. He could hear everyone getting riled up as he grabbed for the rag hanging out of his back pocket and wiped off his hands. “Where the fuck is Dean Winchester?”

“Right here.” Dean stepped out, and when he saw who was standing on the lot, he instantly knew why everyone was fighting to not pull out a gun in the middle of the day. He knew this guy, he’s seen him before and it wasn’t in a good light.  The large neck tattoo was more telling than the patch this asshole normally wore. “You got some big fucking balls coming in here unarmed.” He probably wasn’t but the taunt would confirm if he was or not.

“Who says I’m unarmed?” Dean's eyes narrowed on him as the front of his shirt lifted up to reveal a gun tucked into his jeans.

“Even worse.” Dean smirked as Sam stepped out of the office, shotgun in hand and trained on the intruder from a rival club. Jack grabbed a handgun tucked in the drawer of one of the tool benches, and two other men in the garage followed suit. The guy’s smile just widened, which confused Dean before he turned and ran from the lot. “What the fuck?”

Dean started to follow, Jack called out from behind him to be careful, that it might be a trap. Jack followed behind him, Sam stayed back by the door, keeping his eye on things from a distance, ready to run inside and yell for John if needed.

As soon as Dean hit the sidewalk, all hell broke loose. “HANDS UP!” came shouts from all around. “HANDS UP! GET YOUR HANDS UP!”  Dean was quick to step back into the lot, shouts continuing as officers, guns drawn and trained on him started forward. “HE’S GOT A GUN!”

“No I fucking don’t!” Dean yelled back, hands up.  He looked behind him, and Jack’s gun was nowhere to be seen, his own hands up just like Dean’s. Sam was nowhere to be seen, likely rushing to get his father. When Dean looked forward again, he saw something on the ground where he had stood before backing up. “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me..”

The call had scared the shit out of you. You grabbed Abby and ran for the car, driving much quicker than you should have, especially with your young daughter in the back and pregnant like you were, but you were terrified.

Pulling up, your heart was in your throat. Cars with lights flashing everywhere. Opening the driver side door you slipped out and looked around, trying to make sense of any of it. “Alex!?” you called out for your son. “ALEX!?”

“YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING REGRET THIS!” all of a sudden, you could see Dean, cuffed and fighting it. “You dumb sack of shit! You know exactly where I’m going! You think I won’t fucking tell them you’re working with the cops!? YOU'RE DEAD!!”

“Dean!?” You rushed closer, the car with your daughter in it still in your peripheral. “Dean, what's going on?”

“This sack of shit is trying to get me for possession of a firearm.” He spat in Bakers face as he was dragged past. “I didn’t have a gun on me and you fucking know it you dumb fucking-”

“Where’s my son?” Jack was in the back of a car already, you saw that as it pulled away from the scene. “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SON!?”

“Mom?” You turned, and there on the corner across the street stood a confused Alex, hands full of takeout. “Mom what’s going on?”

“Alex.” you breathed out in relief as you rushed for him, pulling him into a hug. After a moment, you both turned and watched as Dean was loaded into the back of a car, still screaming. “Dean..” You started for the car, leaving Alex behind, now that you knew he was safe.

“Y/N.” You turned, and Sam was coming out and towards you.

“What happened?”

“I- I don’t know..” Sam shrugged and looked over towards his brother, suddenly calm and quiet in the car. “That asshole showed up, and shit just hit the fan.” You looked out over at the tattooed man talking to Baker. It was like he felt your eyes on him, because he stopped mid sentence and looked over at you. “-lawyers meeting him at the station.” Sam continued to talk as if you had been listening to him. “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You turned your head a bit towards him, but never took your eyes off Baker and the stranger.

“Hey.” You finally tore your eyes away and looked up at him. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” you looked over to the car as it pulled away with Dean. “But will we?”

“Sorry about your husband.” Your eyes shifted to Baker who was now watching you.

“Fuck you.” you spat at him, the words dripping with venom. He just smiled.

“Hey, be happy I bothered waiting for your son to leave. I could have taken him in too.”

“No, you couldn’t have, and you know it.” you growled at him. “And with that threat, I’ll be calling Brady.” You watched as Baker took a step back, and that's when you felt Alex step up next to you, putting him closer to Baker.

“Who the fuck is the broad that’s got you shaking in your boots?” the stranger asked, amused.

“Dean’s old lady.” Baker sneered.

“That his kid?” he motioned to Alex.

“Na.” Baker answered with a shake of his head. “Just a stray he took in when he started fucking the mom.” The stranger hummed, contemplating that before he finally turned away.

“What the fuck did he just do?” You mumbled to Sam.

“He told that asshole who you are, right after putting your protector in cuffs.” You swallowed. As much as Dean had tried to prepare you for him possibly going to prison, he hadn’t prepared you for this. “I won’t let anyone near you.”

“You can’t protect me 24/7, Sam.” you whispered, then glanced back as Alex headed for the car, smiling at his little sister still in her seat. “Not all of us, anyways..”

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[deans-baby-momma]

The Padackles Link-Chapter 62

“What?!” Jared asks, dumbfounded. "You want me to sleep with Drea?"

Gen can't help but laugh at the way her husband's voice raises at least two octaves. His veracity and simplicity endearing as he stares at her in shock.

"No, silly," Gen answers between giggles. "The doctor would inseminate her with a few of my eggs, fertilize them with your sperm, and then hope and pray one-or more, implants into her uterus. It's all very clinical and impersonal. He or she would be our child, just borne by Drea."

"Sounds very...scientific, " he states. "Are you sure? I mean, this is how you want to expand our family?"

"Yea, I am," Gen confirms with a nod. "The boys are growing so fast and I have always dreamed of having a big family. Don't get me wrong, I love Tom and Shep but I miss them being babies. Plus, I’ve kinda always wanted a little girl."

"Okay. Let's do it," Jared exclaims eagerly. 

"Really?" She is amazed by how easily he had been persuaded. 

"Yea!" Jared says, beaming. "I mean, don't get me wrong. It will be weird as hell seeing another woman round with my kid but there is an upside to it," he finishes, pulling his wife's body to his.

"What's that?" Gen asked, cuddling up to him.

"I don’t have to worry about getting rejected when I want to fuck you," Jared says, rolling over until he’s hovering above her. "I won't have to listen to you complain about being fat and undesirable. I love you Genevieve and I always will."

"I love you too, Jared," Gen responds wrapping her arms around his neck. "I always will."

Pulling him down to her, Gen kisses him, promptly turning the contact wanton. 

When they pull apart to catch their breath, she looks up into her husband's eyes, the usual hazel irises shrouded with lust.

"You know, I wouldn't be opposed to a little of that right now," she whispers, batting her lashes and smiling seductively. 

Jared growls as he attacks her, her giggles turning to mewls and whimpers as he completely ravages her body.

Ackles Home

As soon as I put Jackson down, my mind goes back to the earlier conversation in the truck. "Take care of yourself too and look in the third drawer of the chest in the closet.” Jensen had declared. I anxiously wash and shave in the shower, excited to see just what was in that drawer. Once I was sure that everything was nice and smooth I step out and wrap the fluffy terrycloth towel around myself. I quickly check the monitor, the screen showing Jackson asleep in his crib. 

Grabbing the moisturizer, I lather up my body with the peach-scented lotion, making sure to get the bare areas I had created. My mind wanders to the closet, wondering what was in there and when Jensen had put it there. I grab the robe from the hook on the wall and tie it up.

Going to the closet, I flip the light switch on and look excitedly at the chest of drawers. Approaching it, I cautiously reach out and touch the handle of the third drawer and pull it open. 

Inside is a garment box with a pale pink ribbon wrapped around it, tied into a perfect bow in the middle of the lid. Plucking the package out of its hiding spot, I walked over to the bench that separates the two areas of the closet.

Smiling, I gently pull the bindings off the box and lift the top. I gasped as I saw what was nestled inside.

Meanwhile, across town Jensen is sitting at the bar, listening to Bob prattle on about his business and his ideas to expand to other cities. The bartender sits another beer in front of him and without thought, Jensen picks it up and takes a drink.

By the time Jensen is paying attention to his friend again, Bob has moved on to talking about family. 

"So how are the missus and the baby? Though I guess she isn't much of a baby anymore, huh?" Bob chuckled as he nudges their shoulders together. "SueEllen and I had our first two so close together it was almost like having twins."

Jensen’s heart squeezes at the mention of twins. He and Drea had- or is it have?-twins. Jacob just isn't here anymore. He smiles at the older gentleman. 

"I have a son now," Jensen proudly announces.  "He and JJ are 23 months apart. Jackson has an angel twin, passed, uh ...pretty early into the pregnancy, though."

"Sorry to hear that, man," Bob offers.

Jensen finishes off his beverage and fishes out his wallet, going to pay for his drink. Bob lays a hand on his arm and smiles. "On the house, my friend."

"Thanks." Jensen slides his wallet back into his pocket and gets up. "It was nice catching up but I better get back."

"Tell Dani I said hello."

Jensen cringes through a smile and walks away, heading for the door. Outside, he unlocks his door and gets in. He lays his head on the wheel and closes his eyes. What the hell is he doing? He should've set Bob straight. He and Danneel aren't together. He has a son with another woman. 

Turning the key in the ignition, Jensen pulls out onto the road and drives, no idea where he is going. He knows he needs to head home, Drea is there waiting for him but the fight with Dani is still fresh on his mind. The words, "She probably wouldn’t pay any attention to JJ, anyway. She's got her own kid to maintain" are running through his head. Does Drea pay more attention to Jackson than she does JJ? Is their son more important to his girlfriend than his daughter? Jensen wants to answer both of those with a resounding “No!” but doubt claws its way into his head.  

Pulling into the driveway, Jensen looks up to the window he knows is the bedroom to see the light still on. Thank god! Maybe he can talk this out and prove to himself that Dani is wrong about the way his girlfriend felt about JJ.

Padalecki Home

Gen watches as her husband comes out of the bathroom and approaches the bed. She is completely and thoroughly exhausted. Their love-making had become an event. The way Jared had whispered in her ear describing how much she turned him on to how she felt as he explored every inch of her body, leaving nary an inch untouched, had Gen practically vibrating with need before they even got to the main event.

The second he had slid into her warm, tight channel, Gen had come undone. The stretch of her walls to accommodate his ample length had her throwing her head back in ecstasy. No matter how often they had sex, Jared always seemed to hit new spots that had her seeing stars. 

With each thrust, Jared's dick had continually grazed her g-spot and when he lifted her legs onto his shoulder to push deeper into her, he steadily bumped against it until she screamed through her release. 

Now here she lay, blissfully satiated and fulfilled, waiting for her husband-her lover-to join her back in their bed. 

"Are you sure you're on board with my idea?" she asks as he lay down beside her. "You don't want to think about? Pro and con it?" 

Genevieve Padalecki had learned early on that any and all decisions Jared made were carefully processed and a list of pros and cons of each outcome was put together before the final determination was made.

"Nah, it's a good plan. You want more kids and I want to make you happy. "

Gen couldn't help but scoff as she sits up against the headboard, the sheet falling down and exposing her bare breasts. 

"No," she demands, crossing her arms. "Don't just agree to make me happy. I want you to want this too. I don't want you to, one day down the road, despise me or whatever kid or kids would come of this. I want you to be in this 100%."

"I am, baby," Jared says as he sits up beside his wife. "I want more kids too. Honestly, it broke my heart when you had to have the hysterectomy. I thought our baby-making days were over. I just didn't say anything because I didn't want you to think I thought any less of you. I love you Gen. I don't ever want you to think I don't."

Hearing his confession brings tears to Gen's eyes. To know that he had been as heartbroken as she was with the procedure warms her heart. She wipes the tears from her face and smiles. 

"You big lug! I love you," she says as she straddles his lap. "I want to give you as many kids as you want. But we shouldn't get too far ahead of ourselves. Drea could still say no."

"I know," Jared agrees, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. "Doesn't mean we can't practice," he murmurs as he leans up to kiss her, his right hand moving toward her womanhood. 

The doorbell sounding through the house made him stop and sigh as she climbs off of him. 

"Whoever that is, they better be dying," he says as he pulls a pair of sweats on and heads out to see who's at the door.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain  @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex@sis-tafics  @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam  @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44  @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc28@natura1phenomenon @mannls  @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30  @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl  @i-just-wanna-run-hell @paintballkid711@closetspngirl @starfirerules @vickiq9761  @rainflowermoon​  @spnbaby-67​@drakelover78​ @jessieray98​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @topthis808​ @lilulo-12​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @tftumblin​ @markofdean79​ @thevelvetseries​

[fizzyxcustard]

Thoughts Of You (Part 2)

Part 1

Fandom: Richard Armitage RPF

Summary: From the imagine of ‘Imagine Richard is in a loveless relationship but can’t stop thinking about you’. In the first part, Richard broke up with his girlfriend, forcing her to leave their shared apartment. Now Richard is looking forward to seeing you. Part 2 requested by @patanghill17 @legolaslovely and @deepestfirefun

Pairings: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader, Richard Armitage x OFC

Warnings: Angst, yearning, requited love (but not acted on), swearing, text harassment, mentions of overweight!reader, insecurity

Word count: 1379

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you. This idea actually came into my head from looking at a GIF set of Lucas North. Your background with Richard and also the woman he’s with have been left open for you to fill in your own gaps.

Music inspiration/listened to for this piece: Piano music and rain sounds (3-hour video), found here. 

Masterlist of fan fiction here

As she left that night, taking only her essentials for now, and crying the whole way to the door, Richard tried not to look. She had mascara in streaks down her cheeks, paired with glistening tears. “Please, Rich,” she begged again, hesitantly reaching for the door knob.

“Just leave,” Richard said coldly, opening the door for her.

He watched her depart, the beginning of the end. No doubt she would come begging him to forgive her when she visited to pick up the remainder of her possessions. But Richard had already got a hard resolve in his gut. She would not sway him. The door was now open for him to follow his heart and seek out your light.

***

Your flight got into JFK airport the next morning. As all the passengers filed off, you yawned, bracing yourself for the immigration queue that was about to ensue. New York had always been one of your favourite destinations and whenever your work needed someone to visit, you were always the first to offer your help and volunteer to go. In actual fact, most of the time now, no one was even asked, apart from you. Your boss made sure your name was put forward.

Midtown Manhattan was to be your home for ten days, and you took the cab from JFK, like you normally did, to your hotel. It was the same place you always stayed; middle of the road, not too extravagant, but clean, with friendly staff and was somewhere you found comfortable.

When you had checked in, you made your way up to your room on the third floor, trailing your suitcase behind you. In the elevator, you shared the space with a young couple who were more interested in the taste of each other’s faces than you. You blushed and looked down, trying not to take too much notice of their public displays of affection. Instead you looked at your reflection in the mirror and looked down sadly. Slightly overweight. Nothing special.

It seemed like an age passed until there was the familiar ping!

The room was clean, the smell of polish and fresh sheets still hanging in the air.

The first thing you did, like always, was throw yourself on the bed, testing out the mattress. Ahh, Memory Foam! Always able to send you to sleep within minutes.

Your iPhone chimed loudly. You were hoping it was Richard, but instead it was an unknown number.

You’ve fucked with the wrong bitch. I know you’re seeing him behind my back.

What on earth? Seeing who? The number was international, so it was someone abroad, no doubt from the States.

Another text chimed.

Ha! You are one ugly bastard!

Your heart began to race, pounding and sending heat all around your body. Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks in both anger and sadness. Whoever would be sending you these disgusting insults?

And another text.

You are seriously joking to think he’d want you over me?

Were these texts even meant for you? Your hands shaking and you holding back sobs, you blocked the number.

Rain was falling outside your window now, and not even that relaxing, calm sound could cure you of the hurt and disrupted nerves. You sat down on the end of the bed, resting your hands on your thighs and let the tears fall. You knew you were ugly, fat and the kind of woman most men walked past without a second glance. And here you were, waiting to see Richard, an actor and absolutely beautiful man in all ways. What kind of planet were you living on to think he’d everconsider you?

As if on cue, your phone began to ring and Richard’s name flashed upon the screen.

“Umm, h…hello,” you stuttered, trying to gather your nerves and thoughts together properly.

“Are you okay?” his voice came back, concerned for you. He must have noticed the tremor in your voice.

And you sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Love, what’s wrong?” his voice came again. “Do you want me to come to you?”

“N…no. Don’t put yourself out for me, Rich. I’ll come and see you later. I just…”

“Just, what?” Richard pressed.

“Nothing,” you said softly. You sniffed, trying to push your hurt away. “Are you alright?”

“No, you’re not doing your usual and diverting the conversation,” Richard replied, chuckling.

His chuckle made you smile.

“I’ll get a cab up to you. Are you in the same hotel as usual?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Give me half an hour, and I’ll be with you.”

What you would give for this man to be a permanent part of your life. To feel his kindness every day, be enveloped by his compassion and held steadfast by his faithful nature. But he belonged to someone else.

Like always, you were early. You sat in a leather seat in the lobby, sipping quickly on a free coffee you had made yourself by reception. It was bitter, but decent enough for a free beverage. The rain began to pound against the panes, and soon hailstones hit the ground outside, bouncing. Pedestrians rushed on past, some dashing inside the hotel for temporary refuge from the terrible weather.

Then you saw him. Dressed in jeans, an open neck navy shirt and his usual white trainers. That smile.

You stood up and he stopped in front of you, his arms twitching at his sides.

Richard felt his breath become caught in his lungs. Your eyes looked swollen, the window to a crushed spirit. “Are you alright?” he asked, his hand reaching out a little and then dropping back at his side.

“N…not really,” you replied.

“Come on,” he said, his hand reaching out for you to follow him. “Do you want to go back to your room or shall we get a drink in the restaurant?”

“Can we go back to my room because I’ll probably start crying again,” you replied, swallowing hard.

Richard remained silent as you both made your way back upstairs to floor three. You noticed the concierge eyeing you both as you disappeared into the elevator.

In the room and you sat down on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t even unpacked anything yet,” you told him.

Richard took out the chair which accompanied a small desk in front of your mirror and wheeled it to in front of you. He sat down, his knees only inches away from yours. You noticed his hands were resting at the very end of his knees as if wanting to reassure you and take yours in his.

“I had some really nasty text messages, saying I was ugly and that this person knew I was seeing someone behind their back,” you said. Tears rolled down your cheeks again. “They said they’d seen me and something about him wanting me over them. I have no idea…”

“What was the number?” Richard asked suddenly, his face having grown contorted into an expression of anger. “Show me the number.”

“I don’t know…I blocked it.”

“Please, show me the number…”

You grabbed your phone and brought up the blocked numbers.

Richard’s jaw clenched. “The fucking bitch,” he growled.

“What?”

“Miranda!” Richard hissed. “She got your number off my phone.”

“Your girlfriend?” you asked. Why was Richard’s girlfriend texting you?

“Not anymore. We broke up last night. That smashing you heard in the background, that was her. She’d been looking at my phone and it was the last straw. I’m going to…”

“Rich, calm down,” you said, taking his hand.

Richard looked down at your hands and tightened his own grip around yours. “I won’t let her get away with this. She doesn’t hurt you. No one does. I’d wanted to break it off with her for some time, last night being the reason I could use, but at the bottom of it all, it was because of you.”

“Me?”

Was Richard leaning in to you? His head was coming closer, until you felt his lips on yours. You took a huge intake of air, completely thrown off guard by this situation. Richard’s stubble tickled your skin and you smiled beneath the kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

Follow Forever tag list:

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Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy @crazytxgradstudent @birdkeeperklink

[simsadventures]

So for your 2k challenge - huge congrats by the way! 👏🏻 I would like to be shipped with Dean SPN, fluffy (maybe a little smutty 😉). I love food, rock music and reading fanfic. Thank you 😘

Thank you a lot, Sion!! ❤️

2K Drabble Celebration

Warnings: fluff, implied sex

Bon Jovi’s Dead or Alive was blasting through the speaker in your room, and you were pretty sure that if anybody was in the bunker, they would hear it as well. But you didn’t care. You needed a me-time, and some loud music would always get you in the mood. You even ordered pizza to just forget about everything else than right here, right now. 

You were scrolling through tumblr, reading fics as you went by, enjoying most of them, and mostly the ones that had some spicy parts in them. Dean has been on a hunt for far too long, and you were getting lonely, so you thought that reading some smut, and maybe taking of the problem of your horniness yourself wouldn’t be an issue. 

But as soon, as you got comfortable, and felt riled up enough, you heard a huge crash from somewhere in the bunker. 

Your senses went into override, and even though you were still healing from your last hunt, you took the baseball bat in your room, and slowly opened the door, ready to face whoever was disturbing your day. 

You almost hit the person, but stopped at last minute, when you saw the eyes you loved so much. 

“Have you lost your damn mind? I could have killed you, for God’s sake!” You shrieked, breathing heavily, trying to compose yourself. 

“Kill me? With a bat? Oh, sweetheart. You call yourself a hunter?” Dean smirked and you hit his shoulder. 

“Asshole. It was the only thing that was in my room. I’ve got all my weapons in your room,” you rolled your eyes at him. 

Only then Dean noticed your attire- his big shirt, and your panties- nothing more. He smirked as he licked his lips. 

“And what were you doing in your old room, all alone, only in your panties?” 

“Couldn’t do much when you came crashing in like madman. But I’ve got a problem, and I’d much rather you taking care of it than my pink friend in the drawer,” you said with a smirk of your own, and watched as Dean’s features darkened. 

He suddenly grabbed your hand, and pulled you towards your shared room. 

“No need for the pink friend. I’ll give you what you need, my little rockstar,” Dean husked into your ear and shut the door behind the two of you. 

[lady-wallace]

I was tagged by @flowers-stories to do this, so here we go ^_^

AO3 name: LadyWallace

Fandoms: Supernatural, Good Omens, The Hobbit, The Musketeers, Starsky&Hutch, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Peaky Blinders, Merlin, (also have done a couple random fics for Criminal Minds and Black Butler)

Fic you spent the most time on: Gosh, I don’t know for sure. I do remember that For Those About to Die took me multiple months to write, which is not normal. Turned out okay though.

Fic you spent the least amount of time on: Not counting one-shots, I think the two 20k+ stories that took me the least amount of time were Katabasis which I wrote in like, a week and my Supernatural/Princess BrideAU that I wrote over a weekend 

Longest fic: We Band of Brothers coming in at over 66k. Closely followed by Standoff at 62k. Because when I do serious re-writes of Supernatural, I do it right XD

Shortest fic: Not counting Whumptober prompts, some of which I know are shorter it’s Nightmares Past my JoJo drabble at 1,089

Most hits: Oddly enough, it’s the one Criminal Minds fic I wrote, Bearing Witness at 7,602

Most kudos: La Grippe at 585

Most comment threads: My Good Omens Whumptober collection at 66 

Fave fic you wrote: Nooo, I don’t know if I can choose. *Sigh*. I will do a top 5

1. We Band of Brothers (SPN)

2. Another Kind of Madness (The Hobbit)

3. The Thing with Feathers (SPN)

4. La Grippe (Good Omens)

5. A Dungeon Horrible (SPN)

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Oh boy, I don’t know. I typically am done when I fic when I post it. I would like to actually finish the Katabasis series at some point...

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: 

I guess I’ll share an excerpt of my JoJo fic even though I know no one I know is in this fandom XD (Though you should be...) The only other fic I am writing is for a commission and I don't like sharing those before they post. So Have some JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure with a crapton of angst.

            Jotaro spotted Kakyoin. The young man was sitting on a bench underneath a tree, bent over his lap. His back was turned toward Jotaro, but the dark-haired boy could already see something different in Kakyoin’s stance than what he was used to.

           He approached slowly, but didn’t soften his footsteps so Kakyoin would hear him. He still didn’t turn around though, and Jotaro stopped a second, hands in his pockets, as he glanced over Kakyoin’s shoulder.

           Kakyoin had a sketchbook in his lap and was drawing the scenery from where he was sitting, capturing the park across the street. Jotaro had almost forgotten Kakyoin liked to draw, but he’d seen him do it on occasion while they were traveling, sometimes while they were relaxing in their hotel at night. He was really good, but there was something more deliberate about his lines now, more accurate and precise, but with less life in them.

           There was also something diminished about his friend. Kakyoin had a naturally slight build, but he was bordering on gaunt now, and he looked strange and out of place in a baggy, grey sweater and ripped jeans instead of his school uniform.

           “Hello, Jotaro.”

           Jotaro was a little surprised that Kakyoin had spoken to him. He stepped around the bench and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree so he could face Kakyoin. “Hey. I wasn’t sure you knew I was coming.”

           “Mom told me,” Kakyoin said, voice emotionless. He still sketched, instead of looking up at Jotaro. “You didn’t have to come.”

           Jotaro didn’t know whether that was acknowledgement of Kakyoin not wanting him there, or not feeling like he deserved to have a friend care for him. Either way, Jotaro had no idea how to reply. He wanted to curse both Kakyoin’s mom and his own for setting him up like this. How the hell was he supposed to help his friend when he wasn’t even good at processing his own emotions?

I’ll tag @noxbait  @whiskerdrops and whoever else wants to do it!