#and then he gets to the future and tries to act like he’s above dean like pal i hate to break it to you but

[pestopastaenjoyer]

if salmondean or john do ever makes u so angry that u want to throw ur remote across the room pls consider that being fucking stupid and insufferable and horrible runs in the family and quite literally comes with the last name. i’m not talking abt the predetermined fucked up biblical fates part. i’m talking abt the fact that henry had arguably the baddest baddie at home (millie) while simultaneously having the most awkward bizarre palpable sexual tension w ‘josie’. are you fucking kidding me

[backtotheplaylist]

It was two weeks from graduation in the late spring of 1989, when the guidance counselor from San Dimas High School discovered a terrible error. It seemed that two Senior Students: William S. Preston Esq. and Theodore Logan were one Elective credit shy of earning their High School diploma.

After much deliberation in the offices of the Principal and Dean, Bill & Ted were given a simple assignment: To write a ten page report on any subject. The stingy English teacher Mrs. McBride would then grade the paper on a pass or fail system. Pass: you graduate High School. Fail: and it’s Summer School.

Bill & Ted had already scraped together money from their new employment at the Circle K to buy a van. They had big plans that summer for a Wyld Stallyns Southern California tour. Their dreams were coming true. They could absolutely not afford Summer School dude.

But there was more on the line than a Summer of open mics and dive bars along the Pacific Coast. Humanity in 2688 relied on the music and philosophy of the “Two Great Ones”. It was absolutely essential that the Wyld Stallyns begin their tour. Literally the entire future depended on it!

Once again, the leaders of the World tasked Rufus to return to 1989 and assist Bill & Ted on their paper. Would this be another history assignment? Well…sort of. This time, Bill & Ted wanted to write about something closer to their own interests. They wanted to document the History of Heavy Metal!

*Cue guitar noises*.

Reluctantly, Rufus agrees.

But where to begin?

After much deliberation, Rufus took Bill & Ted to West Memphis, Arkansas in 1919. There they met a man by the name of Joe Turley (pictured). Big Joe was just returning home from the Western Front, serving his County in the Army in the Great War. Joe had no desire for Sharecropping in the cotton fields like his father had done his entire life, and his father before him.

The following is an excerpt from Bill & Ted’s paper:

Joe had always had a knack for playing the guitar, singing Spirituals in Church growing up. During his time in Europe, he had learned a new style of playing from the Gypsy Jazz guitarists in France. Joe enjoyed employing his new techniques and marrying them to the old Gospel songs he knew and loved. Determined to not pick a single ounce of cotton, he walked east to Memphis Tennessee and settled into the jazz clubs there.

Joining a troupe known as the “Dixie Gypsies”, over the next decade Joe toured St. Louis, Chicago, Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Cleveland…even going as far as New York City and Boston. Joe’s guitar work was pressed on wax in five top selling Jazz albums, and he began to gain notoriety opening for acts like Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Fats Waller.

But the Depression, as well as racial strife in the big cities took its toll, and pretty soon Joe was back in Memphis. The “Dixie Gypsies” were no more, and prospects were not good. Joe tried to get a band together, but money was tight, he couldn’t afford to hire a pianist and a horn section. That’s when Joe got a great idea. He would play the Boogie Woogie jazz parts normally reserved for a piano on the top two strings of his guitar, and layer in lead patters on the lower strings.

The sound was electrifying! With only a simple rhythm section, Joe could play the same style of Rhythm and Blues he had previously needed an entire ensemble to play. This new style was lightning in a bottle around Memphis. Big Joe Turley never truly got his due as a guitar player, but his impact was widespread.

Joe Turley’s guitar style influenced the likes of T-Bone Walker (pictured above), Goree Carter, and Gatemouth Brown. These in turn influenced white artists like Jimmie Rodgers in the Country-Swing movement and other Southern Black artists like Joe Turner. As these styles evolved, they likewise influenced another artist named Chuck Berry.

Rock and Roll was born, and it was just getting started.

GET EVEN MORE MARTY’S MUSIC:

[samscompliment]

ok cas fic ramblings under the cut. like spoilers for the whole fic but if i never finish/post it then does it really count as spoilers. really. thoughts welcome <3

ok hiiiiii. mwah. so its post canon in the ambiguously human cas domestic bliss stage where they all live above ground EXCEPT. i have personal strife with human cas sorry bc i very much interpret it as basically binding a graceless angel to their vessel (hashtag i read dta and went sure ill incorporate that into my belief system) so cas is like. kind of miserable. like hes not because hes finding joy in the little humanities! and he's got dean! and dean cooks meals that he thinks cas would like and he makes sure all the blankets are soft and all these lovely little things that show he cares and cas my best friend cas just like. covets it. like he hates being 'human' but ALSO dean is like showering him in love so he's like Well. this is manageable. and also dean keeps asking how hes doing and cas is very greedy for proof dean cares about his wellbeing. my poor guy. and like they are in a happily established relationship at this point its all well and good its just that twelve years does stuff to a guy's head.

anyway the catch is that for vague plot empty rescue reasons cas very much does have his grace. like its in a vial he can take it back at any time but he doesnt for approximately three different reasons. one) if he takes his grace back dean wont do any of the little things to make humanity easier and cas doesnt want to lose that and/or go back to how they acted before the empty. two) dean very explicitly loves him which means cas can no longer beat himself on the head like "dean doesnt love me because i am terrible" so he had to find another way to hate himself which in this instance is "i could take my grace back and protect my family but i wont because i wont sacrifice the love of one measly human my hubris is my eternal downfall i am a failure of a father and partner" and THREE) my guy is not keen on relinquishing his outsider identity. bc sure hes "human" but hes not actually human and he fits so poorly but he gets a kind of. idk a kind of perverse pleasure from it. hes a little self pitying in this fic i have to say. but also at the same time hes like i deserve the good things though. i am so miserable look at how good of a miserable excuse of an angel i am. like it literally loops back around to pride for him. my favourite weirdo

while all this is going on cas is doing various post canon things and he gets a tattoo and dean is very nice to him and its sort of your classic "cas tries to find his footing in humanity" activities except you know hes just trying to avoid taking his grace back even though he also wants very badly to take his grace back. he is literally so illogical the entire time and i love him sooo much but it culminates in cas being like okay someone PLEASE take this decision out of my hands so he tries to give his grace to dean

why does cas give his grace to dean well ill tell you. he doesnt want to give up their human life. he hates himself for not giving up their human life to better protect them/jack. so hes like. well if i give the grace to dean it takes it out of my hands and i can hate DEAN for it INSTEAD. i can blame DEAN. literally what nick seasontwelvedean said about cas resenting dean a little for not loving him but now that he knows dean DOES love him hes like this is weird :/ what if i resent him for something else. and dean of course is like what the fuck and throws a tantrum. and its like well dean you did very much kind of bring this upon yourself i like i know youre doing a bit better now but like babe where do you think cas learned all these thought patterns<3

anyway you can tell that we're now reaching the bit i havent written because after they somehow work this out cas takes his grace back and he gets his little "the future" vision realised and he has his wings and dean on his knees being like thank you cas youre the best youre so cool with your angel powers and saving my life forever and ever amen <3 and of course nothing really changes and afterwards he has a little birthday party and probably goes off to find something else to be insane about. and thats The Cas Fic

[digitalmeowmix]

Nov.5th / Destiel rant

I actually ship Destiel it’s just not my OTP. I see the subtext and I love the dynamic. I reblogged a bunch of memes and and emotional fanart and stuff on November 5 like a lot of tumblr. I do believe they could have been a great love story on a better written show that was actually about romance and was capable of doing it well. Like a lot of dumb genre tv the show stumbled on to a great story by accident . But I never expected it to be canon in a satisfactory way for 3 reasons

1. SPN was always a horror show that was primarily about platonic family bonds above all else . Romance was never important to the plot or the characters in the long run. It was always a story about Sam and Dean. I understand only caring about a canon for a ship I've done it too, but don't act surprised and betrayed that your specific focus as a fan was not the focus of the actual canon.

2. Almost everyone involved in the show told you Destiel wasn’t going to happen many times in many ways including Jensen. I know Misha was trying to support the fans by encouraging/validating them and their ship and how much it means to them but at certain point expectations have to be adjusted /lowered and he lead a lot of people on .The signs were all there and one yes doesn’t outweigh 12 years of no’s .

3. The show was frequently homophobic and badly written and would not have done a gay romance well . The shit they did they did to LGBT characters like Charlie and Kaia for example was bad enough. This was shown with what they did with the very messy confession. They waited until the last minute to try and make it half way canon to throw shippers a bone and flubbed the landing so horribly the whole internet was making fun of it. Canon screw ups ships all the time and this is why many shipper prefer their ship stays fanon. I have had ships that got fucked over I understand it sucks and even hurts .

If you honestly thought a dumb and frequently bigoted CW horror show that started airing in the Bush era was going to have gay couple that included a main character as an endgame ship that’s your own bad viewing comprehension and lack of critical thinking and naivety that's to blame . There’s a reason the show was called the last great American queerbait.

The level of rage and depression that the finale has caused some of you is very sad and worrying and I’m sorry your hurt and I wish you all fandom joy again someday. But the the harrasment and entitlement and conspiracies have to stop. There is no finale conspiracy or a secret good Destiel ending . It’s just a shitty CW show written by mostly straight white men that tried to have last a ditch fan service/queerbaiting scene and screwed in up.

Jensen has never cared about Destiel and he has said many time the hyper focus on a ship in a show about platonic familial love that he worked hard on for 15 years bothers him. He is not your Heller king . Also leave Jared alone, your parasocial hatred of him and blaming him for everything you hated about the show and finale is pathetic.

I’m begging you to move on and consume and engage with real LGBTQ media and better written media in general and please learn not get fanon tunnel vision and fall for queer-baiting. This will help you to not be so disappointed in the future .

I would love to talk about Destiel more and engage in that side of fandom because I do love the ship! But a lot of you are so entitled and obnoxious I stay away. To those people I say I hope your Spanish dub and being the laughing stock of the internet was worth 12 years of watching the show expecting it to be something it’s not while making fandom miserable for others.

[thetrap]

why i think deancas just might go canon

i’ve been wanting to write this for a bit, but i haven’t really had the time until now. basically this is just a super unorganized collection of thoughts i have on why i think that dean and castiel actually have a fairly decent shot of becoming canon (and by decent shot i mean like.....a solid 5% chance. and that’s being generous). this is based off of the show itself (obviously), quotes from andrew dabb, and other things.

1. andrew dabb is deancas positive

i made a post a while back that never made it out of the drafts, but it was basically a summation of all the good deancas shit dabb has given us as a writer. here are the bullet points:

- the hug/"i'm not leaving here without you!" moment in purgatory (8x02) 

- "don't lose it over one man"

- "he's in love.....with humanity"

- cas/colette parallel ("dean. stop.") in 10x22

- just the fight scene from the prisoner in general like......wow

- sam/jess and dean/cas parallel in 12x23

- "we've lost everything......and now, you're gonna bring him back" + dean's just generally overwhelming grief in 13x01

- "and how is it that you lost dean? i thought the two of you were joined at the.....you know, everything"

and these are just the big moments.

also notable is the fact that an activist sent dabb (and some of the other producers of spn i think) a book about dean and cas and why the fans want it/why it would be a good thing for the show. a few years later, meghan fitzmartin (who wrote the most recent episode!) was hired as dabb’s assistant, went into his office and posted a tweet a with pictures of the book, saying something along the lines of “doing some reading for work!”

the fact that dabb actually kept a fanmade deancas book for years.....the fact that he’s consistently written episodes with really strong subtext for years.....the fact that the dean and castiel romantic tension has only picked up since he took over as showrunner (mixtape, lily sunder, cas’s death, dean’s grief arc, the entirety of season fifteen, etc.)......idk i just think it’s really interesting that there has been such a marked shift since he was put in charge.

2. the mixtape

i know this was a few seasons ago, but it’s still relevant because like. a mixtape is not platonic. this scene was not platonic. full-stop.

and it’s not even the act by itself; it’s also the dialogue!! “it was a gift. you keep those.” this is more than likely a direct callback to aragorn and arwen in lord of the rings (that’s the first thing i thought of, at least).

the fact that dabb let this slide, like......he knows what this looks like. berens and glynn, who wrote this episode, know what it looks like. they knew precisely how this would be perceived, and then wrote and aired the scene anyways.

and that’s not even getting into the camerawork. like what?? was this shot???

yeah so. definitely not platonic.

3. the trap

honestly i thought about just posting this part of this overlong essay thing, because to me, this is the episode where i went okay, so this might actually happen.

there are SO many things in this episode that made me go insane the first time i watched it (”i left, but you didn’t stop me”) but the thing that stuck out to me the most was dean’s reaction to castiel saying, “you don’t have to say it. i heard your prayer,” when dean tries to tell him something.

like?????? he does not look relieved!! nor does he look particularly happy!!

hell, if you go back and watch the video you can literally see him swallow his words down like....jensen ackles is the master of micro expressions and that shit is Not Accidental. this moment 100% gives the vibe that there is something that is not being said. the camera following dean as he gives cas a lingering look is really interesting too.

3. dabb’s comments about dean and cas in season 15

this part is actually sort of related to the point above, since a lot of dabb’s comments are in reference to “the trap.” here are some interesting ones that i want to point out:

But the Leviathan won’t be the focal point of the purgatory story. Rather, it’s about what Dean and Castiel are going through. “They’re not going to resolve the emotional stuff, but it allows them to redefine their friendship a little bit in light of what’s happened especially earlier this season,” Dabb says. (x)

the key thing here is that dabb said that, in 15x09, dean and cas are “not going to resolve the emotional stuff.”

now. i don’t know about you, but dean falling to his knees, praying to cas and weeping feels a lot like emotional resolution to me. like, sure, things will probably be awkward between them for a while, but surely this is the peak moment of their emotional vulnerability with each other, right? surely this is the moment where they’ve resolved the issue between them? like how the fuck does it get more intensely emotional than this??

yet dabb seems to be implying that it will, which leaves us with the million dollar question: what is left about dean and cas’ relationship to resolve?

keep in mind that as of 15x16, there hasn’t been much forward movement on that front; that is, we’ve had some cute moments between them, but in terms of serious conversation about their relationship, there’s been basically nothing. so we can assume that this development, whatever it is, will occur in 15x18, since dean and cas will be separated for most of 15x17, as cas will be off with sam.

aka the episode where cas will likely get yanked away by the empty. aka the episode with the teary (!!!) conversation we saw in the promo between dean and cas.

also notable from the above quote is dabb saying that dean and cas are redefining their friendship. like....redefining how? to what?? that wording is just really interesting to me.

another quote from dabb re “the trap”:

(x)

it forces them to “start that process.” indicating yet again that the prayer scene between dean and cas is not the moment where whatever is between them is resolved. yet, from where we are right now, dean and cas seem mostly fine. which means that whatever they have yet to work out doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with their fight.

lastly:

a really significant chunk of what happens to dean in 15x09 is him confronting his issues with cas. don’t get me wrong - there are other important things that happen in the episode - but the fact that an episode where so much time/emotional energy is given to dean and cas’ dynamic is considered a turning point for dean is very notable and, to me, speaks to the importance of their relationship for the rest of the season.

4. dean/cas and sam/eileen being set up as units

i’m of the opinion that sam and dean will (by choice) go their separate ways at the end of the show. i think this for a variety of reasons that i wrote about here, and to add onto this, i think that dean/cas and sam/eileen are, in a way, being set up as two units.

this theory comes from two points:

1. the fact that eileen got brought back at all

this isn’t to say that eileen isn’t an interesting character all on her own/outside of her romance with sam, but the fact that they brought her back and then proceeded to set her up in this romance feels really significant to me. what’s especially interesting is how, even after she leaves in 15x09, we get a continuation of their romance in 15x14. i don’t necessarily think that she’s sam’s endgame in the sense that the final episode will show sam going to her or whatever, but i do think that part of the reason she was brought back was so that sam would have someone who he loves/someone he could potentially build a life with after he and dean defeat chuck.

2. the way the two couples were portrayed in “the trap”

like....just watch the future scenes in the bunker. there’s very much a sense that these are two couples living together. and “ever since the mark made cas go crazy, ever since i had to bury him in a ma’lak box.” note the use of i, not we. and then dean/cas and sam/eileen are directly paralleled when dean tells sam he needs to give it up after eileen’s death, comparing it to how dean has given it up after having to bury cas in the ma’lak box.

5. dean does not do Well without cas

this is probably an understatement. there have been a couple of notable instances in this season where the viewer is given a glimpse of what happens to dean when cas dies/is in danger of death/is separated from dean (in case the whole ass widower arc in s13 wasn’t enough).

two of these are from “the trap”:

1. dean freaking out/crying/praying when he’s separated from cas in purgatory

2. dean giving up on life/hunting after burying cas in the ma’lak box in the future world

3. dean’s reaction to cas temporarily going to the empty in 15x13

the one i want to spend the most time on is number two, in large part because sam was witness to it and i think that this might get brought up in 15x17.

part of my spec for that episode is that cas will tell sam about his deal/sam will find out somehow, and in reaction sam might tell cas about how dean reacted to his death in s13 - a conversation that was notably absent from the show when cas finally returned in 13x05. i also think that he might mention no. 2 above, basically telling cas that if he dies, dean is done. that he won’t be able to handle it/move past it. the show has been telling us this over and over for a while now, and it’s only been emphasized more in season 15. i think that 15x17 is the episode where this will finally be verbally expressed.

to me, all of this emphasis on dean giving up when cas is gone isn’t for nothing. in my opinion, it’s being done very purposefully to set up an endgame where dean and cas are together in some sense of the word. and a lot of what i’ve said above is what makes me think it’ll be a Romantic together.

5. bobo berens’ three part deancas saga

so we all know that berens is pretty much spn’s foremost deancas warrior, and what i want to point out here is how this season has been utilizing him as a writer.

this season, berens has three solo episodes (he wrote “galaxy brain” with meredith glynn):

1. the rupture

2. the trap

3. despair (formerly known as “the truth”)

so far, these first two episodes have had major deancas moments. you could even label them as:

1. the rupture (the breakup)

2. the trap (the reconciliation)

3. depair (???)

keep in mind also that berens wrote 14x18, where the dean and cas sort of had a preliminary breakup. he’s been in charge of this arc for a while, and the fact that so much of his writing this season has been deancas focused.......i don’t know, i just think it’s significant in part because, while berens has always been deancas positive, he also writes plenty of episodes that aren’t focused on dean and cas. but now, in the final season, the dean and cas emotional arc has been handed to him, and it’s been the primary focus on his writing.

(sidenote: berens was promoted to executive producer for this final season)

to me, this is all leading to a big moment between dean and cas in 15x18 - and the fact that it was at one point called “the truth,” only to be switched back to despair - makes me think that there will be some sort of confession involved. my money is on cas being the one to say it (especially since this would line up with the leak), especially given the glimpse we saw of (what might be) this moment in the promo. which leads me to...

6. cas does not cry

i saved this for last because the promo where we see teary-eyed cas is actually what pulled me back into this shitshow.

cas does not cry. like. ever. he got a little teary in 15x15, when jack told him of his plan to sacrifice himself, but we have never - never - seen him shed actual tears. and in the promo, particularly that shot where cas says “you have fought for this whole world,” it 100% looks like cas is about to cry cry.

cas has seen his son die. he has seen dean die. he died himself, over and over and over. and we have never seen him cry.

yet for some reason, in this moment of vulnerability with dean, he’s crying. i find it highly unlikely that cas would cry because of his impending death, for a number of reasons (for one, he wouldn’t want to upset dean more than he has to). so, assuming he’s not crying because of his own death, then what is making cas so emotional that he is genuinely crying for the first time in the twelve seasons he has been on the show?

my guys.....i can only think of one thing.

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome.  You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

---

“(Y/N)! Get a move on!” 

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess. 

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun. 

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room. 

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure. 

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one. 

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared. 

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette. 

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile. 

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them. 

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured. 

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” 

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

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Tags didn’t work for the following names: @lottieellz101  @lovedrarrypizzasleep   @katherineisagubler  @m2ello   @guesswhosback129  @deepsleepnat    I’ve sent you a message to notify you instead!   @ireallyhaveaproblem unfortunately I can’t send you a message either.

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[croscupsroom]

True Happiness (T, pre Sam/Castiel, 1.5 k.) True happiness lies in the mundane (and it’s bedtime for Sam and Castiel). Set some time after 14.08. Read on AO3.

AN: if it looks familiar, i have posted this before but accidentally deleted that account. thought i'd reupload it since i put it on AO3.

AN: short mention of cas having skipped meals, towards the end.

In the evenings now, Castiel likes to go down to Sam’s room, and hangs out in it doing quiet activities or watching TV until Sam comes to bed. They’ve had this routine for a while, only skipping nights when the brothers are out of town. This time, it’s not exactly the evening — more like the middle of the night, not that long before it crisps into early morning.

Sam doesn’t have the healthiest of sleep schedules. He sleeps too little, at imprecise hours. That doesn’t bother Castiel. He doesn’t sleep at all, so Sam’s lack of habits doesn’t inconvenience him. What preoccupies him is Sam’s health. He listened to a podcast episode, once, that detailed how exactly lack of sleep could impact human bodies. Hearing that made him think of Sam, sluggish; of the cogs in his brain rickety from too few hours of rest. It made him worry about future outcomes.

“Alright, Dean,” Sam says from outside his bedroom door. This signals the end of a conversation Castiel wasn’t privy to. Like most of theirs, really.

Cas sits on the bed, legs extended in front of him. His shoes are on the floor, by the bottom of the bed. He’s wearing pajamas. Something tells him that the flannel feels pleasant, where it falls on the outside of his shell.

The last time they went to Goodwill together to shop for Jack, Sam pointed out the set on the rack. Maybe you’ll like this better than sitting in your clothes all night long , Sam said like the subject might bristle Cas.

Castiel is an angel. Clothes are all the same to him. What the remark told him, though, was that it must bother Sam for him not to change himself at bedtime. Why else would he suggest it at all, or so cautiously? Castiel wondered if it was that the trench coat’s noise bothered him, whenever some of the polyester canvas rubbed on itself in soft scratches that made him cringe. Maybe it was that Castiel disrespected some social convention without realizing it, and Sam was hinting at some way to fix it.

Looking at the flannel on the hanger, Castiel wondered if it was that Sam might want him to get undressed at night, and act as though they were going to bed together.

Of course , Castiel said then. I’d like that better.

You sure? Sam retreated, like he was worried that he had pushed Cas too far, and forced his answer.

I am, yes. I’m sure this sleepwear will be more comfortable. That was a lie, but one that he hoped would reassure his friend.

Sam, swelling up in relief, put the pajamas in the cart and waited for Castiel to follow him to the next rack.

Since then, Castiel changed into the pajamas in the evening before Sam turned in for the night. They developed their own little rituals, like maybe Sam was hoping to by suggesting the pajamas in the first place.

“What’re you watching?” Sam asks. The TV’s on, the volume barely above a whisper. He kicks off his shoes, his feet now bare on the concrete.

“I’ve been rewatching Arrested Development.”

“Oh, yeah? Again?”

They first watched it together years ago, when Castiel started spending his evenings in Sam’s room. He rewatches it sometimes on his own. Even after all these times, it still eludes him.

“The humor puzzles me.”

“Yeah. I can see it being hard to take in.” The remark could come off as condescending, but it doesn’t. Sam is trying to understand where Cas is coming from.

As Sam begins brushing his teeth at the sink, Castiel pauses the show. Sam has his back to Cas, and his eyes are focused on the porcelain below. He doesn’t own a pajama set — he always just puts on sweatpants and an old t-shirt for bed.

Sometimes, it seems like Sam is more weathered every time he comes into Castiel’s consciousness. He’s very different from the young man Castiel met not so long ago — a dull translucent rock, from what was once a sharp-edged fragment of a glass bottle.

Castiel hasn’t spent much time thinking about the effects of underground living on human morale. He imagines it can’t be too good, living in a bunker without windows like Sam and Dean do. Troglobites are hardly the most vibrant lifeforms. Human societies, if they can help it, do not choose this environment for themselves. If he tried, Castiel could surely find a podcast episode available about the subject — something about miners maybe, and their getting hopelessly stuck in a shaft somewhere. But that wouldn’t help. That’s nothing like Sam’s situation at all.

“Do you want to finish the, uh, documentary series?” he asks. They started that one a few nights ago. These past two, Sam shook his head no when Cas asked him, saying he was too tired. He’s about to do the same, but seems to think better of it.

“Yeah, sure.” They have three episodes left. They can get through at least one tonight.

Usually, Castiel lays on top of the bed, postured impeccably, while Sam slouches underneath the covers. This time, Sam holds up the sheets for longer than usual after he gets in, as an invitation. So. Castiel tucks his legs alongside Sam. The bed is a double — not exactly meant for two men’s size — so their physical closeness is pure happenstance. Sam’s head resting on his upper arm, as it is right now, is the most they ever touch.

“Play it,” Sam says. He gestures vaguely to the remote in Castiel’s hand.

The series exposes an unsolved string of murder, the botched investigation, and the cover-up around it. It’s quite harrowing. Castiel is always amazed at how Sam will relax by listening to the most gruesome stories. Often, he’ll fall asleep to episode collections of Forensic Files. Castiel will turn it off for him, once he’s out.

At the end of the episode, Sam is already almost asleep, his lids heavy .

“Sam, you should go to sleep,” Castiel tells him, prying him off his side.

Sam nods, yawns again. Castiel turns off the TV, then hands Sam the remote so he can put it on his side of the bed.

As he turns to lay back down, Sam stops for a moment, resting on his elbow, turned towards his friend. “Hey, Cas,” he murmurs. His eyes are quiet and waiting, in the dim light. “You know, uh. I really like it when you spend the night with me, you know that?”

Castiel doesn’t know that. Sam’s never said that, not in so many words. It’s just something they’ve been doing. It’s nice to have this time just for themselves, to do things that aren’t related to killing anyone.

“I like spending my nights here, too,” Castiel replies. He means it. “Do you want the light on or off?”

“On is fine, thanks. Night, Cas.”

“Alright.”

He usually says that, as a courtesy, if Castiel doesn’t keep watching TV after he’s gone to sleep. Cas can see just as well in the dark, after all  — he’s not constrained by the visible light spectrum.

Castiel picks up the book by his bedside. Sam lent it to him, after he said he was looking for a novel to read. It’s a quiet activity that passes the time at night, so he can stay beside Sam without bothering his sleep. Sam’s copy is the English version of the novel, translated from Kikuyu by the author himself. If he wanted to, Castiel could easily read the original. Human languages are all more or less one and the same, or so he’s observed for himself. He thinks about the myriad of dead languages Sam can decipher, and the countless living ones he’ll never understand. Maybe it’s about picking his battles. Kikuyu would come in handy less often than Latin or Aramaic in his line of work.

In any case. Castiel hasn’t considered seeking out the original in any serious way. He likes the idea of reading from Sam’s copy, dog-earing the pages along the same creases, seeing which passages he underlined.

Castiel leans back against the headboard. His foot rests somewhere along Sam’s shin.

This is a nice moment. He likes living it.

Almost unnoticeably, the world around Castiel dims.

A blip brings him back. He collects his presence. He checks on Sam sleeping beside him, and the weight of the room. It all feels odd — like he’s just an inch aside from himself.

Just now, Castiel felt as though he was falling backwards, although his body remained upright, solid. Like he was caught over the eyes by shadowy hands and yanked backwards, speeding through sludge, caving into the outline of himself. It reminded him of when he was human, and hadn’t eaten enough.

He’s not human, however. His body can’t get weak from skipping meals. He has no use for food.

To his right, Sam is already asleep. His pretty head is turned towards Castiel, his hair spread on the pillow. Castiel will have to be more careful. Every time, the dimness lasts longer, becomes darker.

Castiel stares at the pages in his hands. “Good night, Sam,” he says.

[shirtlesssammy]

4x02: Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester

Then:

Dean Winchester is saved

Now:

Olivia, a hunter, wakes to cold air and flickering lights. She runs for her shotgun just as Bobby leaves a message on her answering machine. 

Her EMF is going nuts as she patrols her house. Suddenly ghosts that she recognizes give her the one two punch and she’s a goner.

At Bobby’s, Dean is vehemently denying that he was “groped by an angel.” Bobby’s got lots of lore on angels, though. It seems they’re the only thing that could pull a human soul from Hell. 

Sam thinks it’s a good thing that Dean was saved “by one of the good guys.” And Dean wonders if there is a God. BABIES. Dean’s having a hard time believing there’s a god out there that personally believes in him. Oh, buddy, he cares just a little too much, I’d say. Dean’s self-loathing is off the charts though. And this is getting way ahead of myself here, but even though Chuck cares in the sense that Dean is a fun little puppet for him, it’s Cas that really cared all along. He believed in Dean so much, he gave up everything for this man. BIG SIGH. 

Dean demands pie before digging into the angel lore.

Sam runs off to forget get the pie, when he sees Ruby lurking. She wants to know if the angel stuff is real. Ruby’s scared for her demon life and takes off.

Sam gets back to Bobby’s in time for all three of them to take off to investigate why Olivia isn’t answering Bobby’s calls. Also, he forgot the pie.

They find Olivia disemboweled on her bedroom floor. And Bobby can’t get a hold of any nearby hunters. They check them out to find everyone dead. 

They need to get back to Bobby’s to regroup.

Sam’s getting gas for the Impala while Dean sleeps. He makes a pitstop in the gas station restroom. The room suddenly gets cold and Victor Henrickson appears!

He blames Sam for his death. He starts to attack Sam but Dean comes in with a save and a shotgun.

Bobby meanwhile is haunted by a couple giggling raggedy twin girls. Fun! 

Sam and Dean race back to Bobby’s. They can’t get a hold of him so they enter his house with shotguns ready. The boys separate and while Dean checks out the upstairs, Sam heads outside. 

Dean runs into the ghost of the woman who was once Meg Masters. 

She blames Dean for her possession...and Dean hates himself enough to actually believe it all. It wasn’t your fault, dude. Also, as much as they’ve learned about demon possession and all, if they would have met Meg at any point in the future, they would have just stabbed her with Ruby’s knife and she’d be dead anyway. Idk, saving people is good in theory, but hard in practice for these guys. I also know this is a manipulation. “Do you know what it’s like to be ridden for a month by pure evil?” HE DOES! Leave him alone! 

Meanwhile, Sam’s trying to find Bobby outside. He’s currently being held down by a couple scary ghost twins. 

Ghost of Meg continues to taunt Dean, and pins her sister’s suicide on him as well. MEG. NO.

Outside, Sam finds Bobby trapped in an old scrap car. He helps break him out and together they swing iron through the ghost girls. 

Dean drags himself away from Meg, and aims his gun at the iron chandelier up above. DAMN BOBBY that’s some fancy light fixture work! The chandelier smokes Meg out...for now. 

Back in Bobby’s living room, they realize that all the ghosts had a brand on their hands. Bobby hauls out the lore and leads the Winchesters down to...dun dun DUN...his safe room. 

We get the grand tour because this is the FIRST TIME WE’VE SEEN IT. This safe room has everything! Iron! Salt! Devil’s traps! Lore! Racy posters! Booze! Weapons! The vanished hopes and dreams of Dean Winchester! A cot complete with restraints! The Winchesters are impressed. 

Later, Dean breaks into a theological monologue while making salt bullets. My sweet sunshine! How dare you speak my love language! “If [God] doesn't exist...fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason - just random, horrible, evil. I get it, okay? I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?” (Because, sweetie, freedom is a length of rope and God LITERALLY wants you to hang yourself with it.)

Bobby finds the brand - it’s the “mark of the witness.” They’re ghosts forced to rise and destroy people. In fact, the Rising of the Witnesses is part of an ancient prophecy. A prophecy of...DOOM. It’s a sign of the apocalypse. Dean suggests coping with a series of wish-fulfillment trips including: Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience, and the Bunny Ranch. Somebody please write me that fic. Instead of Dean’s plan, Bobby suggests running an ancient ritual to shut down the witnesses. To do so, they first have to race out of the panic room to gather ingredients before the ghosts have a chance to yank their insides outside. 

Ronald from the bank heist greets them at the stairs. Bobby blasts away Dean’s guilt ghost for him, and we cut to a montage of spell preparation. The three of them split up to fetch supplies. Ghosts appear to torment them. 

Meg appears to Sam, only she KNOWS more than she should. She knows about Sam’s fraternization with Ruby. 

In the kitchen, Victor appears to Dean. He reveals that after the Winchesters left, Lilith gruesomely tortured those left in the station for almost an hour before blowing up the place. While Dean absorbs this fun fact, Victor makes his move, plunging his hand into Dean’s chest.

Sam saves Dean just in time with a well-aimed salt round. They start the ritual, Bobby’s living room teeming with ghosts. Bobby chants while the Winchesters play shotgun whack-a-mole with the ghosts. Meg jabs a hand into Bobby’s chest. Bobby drops the bowl and Dean dives for it like it’s a football, then tosses the spell into the fire to finish the job. 

That night, Dean wakes from his slumber.

Castiel stands waiting for him (watching him sleep??) in the kitchen. He congratulates Dean on their triumph over the witnesses, and announces that he has already started doodling Mister Castiel Winchester in his notebooks! 

Dean feels a little raw about nearly dying (again) and wonders why angels are total dicks. “Read the bible,” Cas advises. “Angels are warriors of God.” Oh, and also? He’s not here to PERCH ON DEAN’S SHOULDER. Oh honey sweetie baby. 

Dean tries to read Cas the riot act and rails against God’s shitty parenting. 

Cas: The lord works…

Dean: If you say "mysterious ways" so help me, I will kick your ass

Cas warns Dean that big...no, cosmic things are afoot.

The Rising of the Witnesses is one of sixty-six seals that Lilith is busily unlocking. Each seal is a lock holding Lucifer in his cage. Dean has trouble believing that Lucifer is even REAL. Sassy Cas smiles. “Three days ago you thought there was no such thing as me.” 

Cas tells Dean that Heaven isn’t infinite. Angels have died in the battle so far, and more may be at risk. (Excuse me while I weep for the next twelve seasons. There have been 0 days since the last angel mishap.)

“You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?” Cas asks, telegraphing his series story arc. “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” Cas flaps out.

Dean wakes up for realsies. WAS IT ALL A DREAM? He asks Sam if he believes in the Devil…

You Should Show Me Some Quotes:

All I know is I was not groped by an angel

If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?

When have I ever forgotten the pie?

Where’s the pie?

I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[manifestingdestiel]

Take Me To Church

(Long post, sorry!)

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“Hiya, Father.” Dean moves around a bit to get comfortable and thinks about what he could ‘confess’ to in order to bait the monster they were after.

“Pardon me?” The priest is confused by being addressed informally. This was surely not one of his regular church goers. Perhaps this person was new to the faith. Father Delaney looks over and it was officer Allman from before. What sins would he confess to?

“Pardon you? I thought it was the other way around.” He chuckles at his own joke, which he does because he feel out of his element. To Dean, praying was like abasement, calling out into the void… no idea if anyone is even listening. Groveling at the universe. “Just…it’s…” He clears his throat. “So, uh, I’m here to– here to clean house. I need to get some things off my chest.” Dean hadn’t planned beforehand what he would say to the priest but he new it had to be horrid enough to bait the being who had been killing the congregation. It was all unfaithful men… promiscuous… Dean knew what he could say to get the -ghost or spectre or whatever they were dealing with here- all riled up.

Father Delaney nods and prepares himself to be patient and understanding and non-judgemental. He had no clue what Dean would confess to, but he was prepared to listen and support him. “Oh. All right. Continue.”

Dean tries to make another joke to cover up his nervousness. “I’ve never done this before, so… here goes? Gosh, if I had known these benches were so stiff I would have brought a pillow or something!” He chuckles and looks at the ground, contemplating. If this goes wrong would he end up killing himself or Sam? Dean decided to cast such thoughts away. He decided he might as well just go for whatever story he could make up to make him sound as like as much of a jerk as possible. “Um…it’s the... women, Father. Where do I begin?” He chuckles.

The Father chuckles. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” is usual.

“Right. Good. Yeah. So, uh... that, and, um… so, the women. Uh, and this is not something that I’m proud of, but I let them think that we have more of a future than we do, you know?” Dean remembers a time and reminisces for a moment. “Ah, Gina…” He smiles slightly, and then sighs.

“Gina?” Dean’s attention is brought back to the Priest. Right, he had a job to do. Might as well sell it like he did the neighborhood watch persona. He took a deep breath and looked around in the confessional to see if he could spot any peeping toms or listening ears. Dean didn’t quite feel comfortable revealing anything true about himself, especially since he knew someone would be listening.

“Well, now, don’t get me wrong. I mean, she was – it was good times. I mean, you know how it is – the sex, the lasagna – but I was not honest with her. And sometimes, I was seeing two, maybe three girls at the same time, sometimes in the same day. Haha, you get the picture. And it wasn’t just Gina. It was endless. It’s making me sick…”

Now there was some truth to that last line. His sleeping around has resulted in nothing good. Ben might have been, maybe is his son. Sam had to kill his Amazonian daughter. All it did was temporarily fill the void, just to leave it empty again. At least he felt something different. Something that wasn’t the guilt, pain, resent, and confusion that he walked with everyday. But, he wouldn’t be able to tell Sam any of this. It wasn’t because he wouldn’t understand. It was really because he had to keep up the image of invincible big brother, it was because he wouldn’t know where to begin with how to express himself. There’s so many emotions he doesn’t know how to describe, so many he suppresses… There’s so much inside of him that he feels. Some days he doesn’t think twice about it and other days it’s all he can think about. Each day it gets a little bit harder for Dean and he knows it. He doesn’t want to admit it but he knows it. Dean can’t believe he’s getting emotional with a near stranger. He blinks away a few would-be tears and takes a deep breath.

The Priest looks over at him concerned and then nods slowly. “And you wish to be forgiven, my son?”

Dean clears his throat and remembers to keep up with his performance. He has a job to do. “I do. I-I need to clean up my act…” He smiles, a transparent facade.

Father Delaney examines Dean and sees the anguish within his micro expressions. He wouldn’t pry, for sake of privacy but he did want to be sure and help Dean in any way he could. “As penance, you shall say five ‘Hail Mary’s’ two ‘Our Father’s ’, and reflect on your transgressions.”

“And then, that’s it? then I’m good to go?”

“Well… One would hope some inner exploration might occur. The prayers are just the beginning to some serious soul-searching.”

“Hmm… You done any soul searching yourself, Father?” Dean begins to wonder if perhaps he should suspect the priest.

“That, I have. I continue to do what I can, when I can. We all have our crosses to bear, agent. But it doesn’t mean we are alone. There will be peace when we are done.”

Dean is lost in thought for a moment, reliving all of the recent events, and some of the past ones. Was peace in the cards for Dean? He thought he deserved less.

Father Delaney sighs and looks ahead, thinking that perhaps if he didn’t look at him, then Dean would feel more comfortable and less like he’s being held on trial. “Is there anything else on your mind, Agent Allman?”

Dean chuckles, using laughter to mask his fear and anxiety; his weariness and his frustrations. “I don’t know…” Dean looks over at the priest and sighs. “There’s a lot of things I got on my plate… with the job, you know. It’s bloody. Messy. I have seen things that you wouldn’t believe...“ Dean looks down. “I just…”

“It’s alright, son, take your time.” He reassured Dean.

“What if I said I…I didn’t want to die…yet, you know, that I wasn’t ready?”

The Father asks a question. “Are you expecting to?”

“Always. You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it.” There’s a tense tightness in his chest as he says this. He thought that all he was worth was worth. Canon fodder. Soldier. Scapegoat. He thought he would die bloody and that would be it.

The Father noticed Dean spoke in past tense which led to another question. “But now?”

“Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. It- It’s terrifying. I mean, you know, there’s still so much I feel I have left to do. There’s things I want to do, places I want to see... There’s… people in my life I want to spend more time with….” Dean pauses for a while after that.

“Unfinished business? Well you should tell those people how you feel. Tell them you appreciate them. Tell them you love them. Lots of people regret not doing that before it was too late. And I certainly hope it’s not too late for you, my son.”

Dean nods slowly. “There’s all these new feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time…”

The priest smiles slightly. “I see…” He looks over at Dean and nods. “They…” He paused for emphasis, must be very special to you. “ Dean nods and his heart feels heavy. “Go a little deeper, perhaps… than with ‘Gina’s. Explore yourself some more.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought. I used to operate in a small little,” he glances and The Father and chuckles, “department, you could say. Same old rodeo everyday, and on Thursdays we have pie.” He smiles. “But now there’s a whole lot more out there. I learn a bit more every day. I always thought it would just be black and white, you know? Simple job. Catch the baddie, go home. But now a whole wide world has opened up, and… maybe it’s not all junk…” Dean clears his throat. “I just mean to say, that after a certain encounter a few years back, things have changed. Everything. It made me realize some things…”

Father Delaney nods. “Learning there’s more to the universe than your tiny world can be a frightening discovery. Especially when it prompts you to rediscover parts of yourself...” The Priest looks over at Dean. “Do you truly believe in God, Agent? Because that can be a comfort.”

Dean sighs. “I believe there is a God. But I’m not sure he still believes in us.” He falters, and then clears his throat.

“It’s okay to have doubts. We all have them. You just have to find your truth and what you believe for yourself. I believe we are all God’s children, Agent Allman. That there are angels above watching over us. I believe that no matter what happens, we will be where we need to be, when we need to be there. It will all work itself out. Have faith and you shall see.”

“Faith, trust and pixie dust. Got it.” Dean smiles and waits for a bit before standing. “Thanks Padre.”

Dean walks out of the confessional feeling lighter. He had forgotten he and Sam were working a job, and he shuddered. It was time to get back to work. He tucked away his vulnerability once again.

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There’s a little headcanon of mine 😌 This is what happened in my version of spn, so to speak. 😁 this is what I think took Dean so long. Hope you enjoyed 😝

(Edited)

[sceptilemasterr]

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 2 - Back in Session

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: Classes resume for Fiora's second semester at Penderghast.

Previous Scene: Identity Crisis

Masterlist: Link

INT. PENDERGHAST CAMPUS - VARIOUS LOCATIONS

MONTAGE

In Tubigan Hall’s Auditorium 3, the students file in for their first class of the new semester; Fiora and Shreya are holding hands. A middle-aged man with long dark hair stands at the front of the room. This is DR. VARTOKIS, another Penderghast professor.

SHREYA (to Fiora): You know? I almost missed attending classes.

Fiora giggles.

FIORA: Emphasis on the “almost,” right?

ZEPH: I just realized... Fiora, you are gonna breeze through this class!

The group takes their seats, with Shreya and Fiora sitting together. Shreya smiles and wraps an arm around Fiora as they sit.

FIORA (quizzically): Why’s that?

ZEPH: ...Do you even know what class this is?

FIORA (embarrassed): Uh... no. I’ve been kinda distracted lately.

Zeph smiles and winks suggestively at Shreya, who laughs.

ZEPH: Oh, I bet! Anyway, this is--

Dr. Vartokis chooses that moment to address the class, his voice amplified. He speaks with a very cheerful, casual tone.

DR. VARTOKIS: Hello there, everyone! Welcome to your first class of this semester: Attuneless History, Society, and Culture! ...Or you can just call it “AHSC” for short if you want. I won’t judge ya!

A few students laugh as Fiora mouths a silent “oh” of understanding at Zeph. Zeph nods, and starts to say something, but Beckett shushes them.

DR. VARTOKIS: Okay, okay, I know many of you are probably wondering what the point of this class is. After all, if you’re gonna spend your career here in the Stoicheal Realm, why bother with my class? The truth is, whether your future leads you to a life among Tuneless or not, our two societies are inextricably linked.

BECKETT (muttering): Fascinating point. I had not considered this...

Beckett hurriedly writes something down in his notebook.

DR. VARTOKIS: Not to mention, there’s a lot we can learn from the Tuneless! We must never forget that we came from their realm, not the other way around. After all, it wasn’t so many centuries ago that our societies lived and worked side-by-side! In fact...

Dr. Vartokis continues talking as Shreya gives Fiora a knowing smile and leans her head on her shoulder. Zeph, meanwhile, is (for once) paying attention to the professor, nearly as attentively as Beckett.

DR. VARTOKIS: --as such. I’ll ask a few simple questions to get us started. First: who can tell me the name of Penderghast’s Archikeal reflection?

Several students--including Fiora and Shreya--raise their hands. Dr. Vartokis points to a student near the front of the hall, a Metal-Att named HECTOR RILENN.

HECTOR: It’s “Hart”-something, isn’t it? “Hartschild?” ...Maybe?

Dr. Vartokis shakes his head.

DR. VARTOKIS: Close, but not quite. You there!

He points to Shreya, who answers eagerly:

SHREYA: Hartfeld University!

DR. VARTOKIS: Correct! Now, who can tell me...

As he moves on to the next question, Shreya smiles at Fiora.

SHREYA (whispering): I’d never have known that one without you!

Shreya gives Fiora’s hand a quick squeeze. Fiora blushes and turns her attention back to the professor...

* * *

Fiora and her classmates file into one of the greenhouses for Natural Studies. Several of the other students are speaking to each other with confusion evident in their voices. Dracarys and Rys flutter above their owners’ heads with excitement, while Beckett’s (still) unnamed Grogue lets out a lazy croak from its position in his lap. Zeph laughs.

ZEPH: Looks like you’ve got some extra time, Beckett! Gonna name him yet?

BECKETT (irritated): Why on Earth do you think my answer would be any different than before?

Zeph leans in closer and smiles conspiratorially.

ZEPH (slyly): You know... Atlas told me what she’d name her Companion, if she ever got one. I asked her if she ever considered just not naming it at all, and she laughed in my face--

BECKETT (shocked): What?! You never mentioned this to me before!

ZEPH (shrugs): You never asked. So, what’s the verdict?

Beckett sighs, clearly considering Zeph’s words.

BECKETT (to himself): ...Hmm. It will have to be a name that is tasteful and refined...

Zeph gives Shreya and Fiora a side glance and a thumbs-up. Shreya giggles as Dr. Kontos enters the greenhouse.

DR. KONTOS: Greetings, and welcome back to Natural Studies! I am pleased to report that all of you passed the class, and did wonderfully on your finals!

A few cheers go up from the room, but most of the students just continue staring quizzically at Dr. Kontos.

DR. KONTOS: Yes, yes, let us address the dryxmar in the room first. According to standard Penderghast curriculum, my course ordinarily would be replaced with “Sourcism and Philosophy” for this semester. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Dr. Swan is otherwise occupied and unable to teach her usual class. Thus, Dean Goeffe has granted me permission to continue Natural Studies into your next semester!

As the students start muttering amongst themselves, Fiora leans in toward Shreya.

FIORA (whispering): Dr. Swan’s still gone? That... doesn’t seem good.

SHREYA (whispering): Perhaps Atlas is starting to rub off on you. We know why Dr. Swan is absent! She’s off on a mission for the Defenders, remember?

FIORA (whispering): Maybe, but still... it’s been weeks...

SHREYA (whispering): You just need to relax a little and focus on other things for a change. Like the Amorelia Day Gala! It may be a bit far off yet, but there’s no time like the present!

FIORA (whispering): “No time” for what?

SHREYA (whispering): Why, for asking whomever you intend to ask to the dance, of course! Surely you plan to ask, right?

FIORA (whispering): I dunno. I’ve got so much else going on right--

DR. KONTOS: Ahem. Miss Luxen, Miss Mistry, care to rejoin the class?

Fiora and Shreya blush heavily when they notice Dr. Kontos and the other students all staring at them. Fiora bows her head in apology and focuses on Dr. Kontos as Shreya looks at Fiora, frustration clearly evident on her face...

* * *

Inside the Defenders of the Flame meeting chamber, Lucia and Arvan lead Fiora, Shreya, and the third-year inductees in practicing their Stoicheal Gathers. Although Shreya manages to perform a Gather after only two tries, Fiora still struggles with her own. Lucia approaches her while the others are practicing.

LUCIA: Hey. Looks like you’re having some trouble.

Fiora stops and looks at Lucia, then nods.

FIORA: It’s the whole “foundation point” thing. I suck at it.

LUCIA: Having trouble figuring it out, then?

FIORA: Yeah.

LUCIA: There’s not a lot I can help you with on that front. The foundation is something that comes from within. Who is Fiora? What makes you... well, you?

FIORA: I don’t know. I’m not as talented or confident as Shreya...

Lucia follows her gaze to where Shreya is performing yet another perfect Stoicheal Gather, to the delight and cheers of the third-year inductees. Fiora sighs.

FIORA (to herself): I doubt I’ll ever be.

* * *

Fiora and Shreya walk hand-in-hand down a street in Pennelia, the bright sunlight reflecting off of the snow all around them. Shreya is regaling Fiora with a story.

SHREYA (speaking rapidly): --but it wasn’t as though I meant to Evaporate the entire hot tub! I was just getting so angry, and the water was plenty hot to begin with. It’s an honest mistake to make, you know. At any rate, I still ended up winning “Best Dressed” for the evening, so it wasn’t for nothing.

FIORA: Wow. That’s-- (laughs) Attuned parties really are something.

SHREYA: Oh, they really are! That’s one reason why I’m so looking forward to the Gala. Let me tell you, I’ve already got the perfect dress picked out! Now all that’s left is... well... you know, if someone were to ask me...

FIORA (curiously): Ask you what?

Shreya sighs in frustration and shakes her head.

SHREYA (annoyed): Seriously? It’s--ugh, never mind.

She immediately brightens and points to a shop in the distance.

SHREYA: Oh! Montraire Bakery! We simply must stop in for a bite!

She drags Fiora toward the bakery, but as she does so, Shreya’s face displays a brief flash of disappointment...

* * *

In her usual lecture hall, Dr. Religast is in the midst of a lecture on Stoicheal Awakenings. Beckett, as usual, is taking detailed notes on the professor’s every word, while Zeph is busying himself by attempting a Roped Current with his hands beneath his desk. All that he manages is a weak trickle of water, which Shreya neatly Evaporates before anyone can notice.

DR. RELIGAST: --of triggering an Awakening. The first, and by far the most common: children growing up in Attuned households will often Awaken on their own, simply by exposure to adult Attuned...

Fiora leans over Shreya’s shoulder to see that Shreya is flipping through a small pamphlet decorated with moving pictures of models showing off various dresses.

FIORA (whispering): What’s that?

SHREYA (whispering): Just the latest Mistry Inc. catalogue. It’s mostly dresses during this season, of course. For the many upcoming dances and, ahem... galas!

FIORA (whispering): Oh. Wow! Are you gonna buy anything?

SHREYA (whispering): No, no... I told you, I’ve already bought my dress. It’s just fun looking through these sorts of things!

FIORA (whispering): Right. Sounds like it!

SHREYA (whispering): Now all I need is a date.

FIORA (whispering): Yeah...

Fiora shrugs, turning back to focus on what Dr. Religast is saying.

DR. RELIGAST: --is exposed to a highly concentrated source of stoicheal energy to become Awakened on their own, without any Attuned being present. Although such occurrences are rare, they almost always cause significant upheavals in Tuneless culture when...

Dr. Religast’s voice fades into the background as Shreya lets out a growl of frustration.

* * *

Fiora sits on the couch in their room’s common area as Shreya fiddles with something near the entrance. Apparently satisfied, she steps back to admire her handiwork and does a brief twirl.

SHREYA: And... that should do it! One entryway, freely open for the next six hours!

Fiora laughs.

FIORA: Nice job, Shreya! I didn’t even know we could do that.

SHREYA (winks): Just a little something my sister taught me.

The door to Fiora’s room swings open, and Atlas enters.

FIORA: Speaking of sisters... hey, Atlas.

ATLAS: You’re sure opening the door’s a good idea? What if Raife decides to send something after us while we’re wide open?

SHREYA: He already managed that even with the door closed. I doubt it would make much difference.

Atlas huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at the newly-unlocked doorway.

ATLAS: Okay, but if the next thing to come through that door looks at all suspicious, I’m hitting it with--

She is interrupted by Griffin stepping through the doorway. Griffin quickly raises his arms in surrender as he enters.

GRIFFIN: Whoa, Atlas, it’s me! Please don’t hit me with anything.

Atlas relaxes a fraction.

SHREYA: Griffin! So glad you could make it! (to Fiora) Looks like the entry really is open, you see?

GRIFFIN: Wait, you didn’t check to make sure?

SHREYA (laughs): Relax! Clearly it all worked out, non?

Zeph steps through a moment later, with Beckett close behind.

ZEPH: Alright! The Pend Pals are all here. Let’s get this study session started!

They all gather around the center table, pulling out their various study materials and setting them out. Beckett raises an eyebrow at Zeph.

BECKETT: Not that I am complaining, mind you, but... it’s unusual to see you so enthused about studying.

ZEPH: What? I’m allowed to be excited about it if I want!

FIORA: So, uh... what should we start on first?

BECKETT: Shall we begin with Dr. Vartokis’s “Equivalencies” assignment? It seems by far the most difficult--

SHREYA: Oh, we finished that one ages ago. Fiora’s been making those types of comparisons to absolutely everything in the Stoicheal Realm for months now, so it was easy.

FIORA: I’ll help you guys if you want!

Zeph eagerly pushes his worksheet in Fiora’s direction, while Beckett looks from Zeph to Fiora to Shreya and back in shocked confusion.

BECKETT (muttering): ...Have I fallen into some strange alternate universe?

ATLAS: Wow. Looks like Fiora and Shreya are doing better than you in a class for once. Gotta say, your reactions are hilarious to watch.

BECKETT: Oh? Why don’t you attempt the assignment, then?

ATLAS: Why should I? I don’t even go to class. Besides, watching you struggle with schoolwork for a change is way more entertaining.

BECKETT (sighs): You are impossibly vexing...

* * *

Icicles hang from the trees overhead as Zeph stands in a forested part of the quad, clad only in shorts and a t-shirt. He holds a hand out in front of his face, palm outward and glowing with water stoichi, as he struggles to concentrate on something.

ZEPH: Urgh... come on!

A few small spurts of water emerge from his palm and fall to the ground. He grunts in frustration and takes a step backward before preparing to try again.

ATLAS (O.S.): Zeph? That you?

Zeph lets his arm fall to his side and turns to see Atlas, similarly underdressed for the weather in a short-sleeved shirt and thin pants, approaching through the snow. She frowns at him.

ATLAS: I know training when I see it. What are you working on?

ZEPH: Oh! Atlas! ...Actually, you might be able to help. I’m trying to do your Roped Current, but...

He attempts the technique once again, demonstrating a similar result to the first time. Atlas frowns.

ATLAS: You’re really worried about the Wave’s Crest, huh?

ZEPH: Yeah. With Fiora, Shreya, and Beckett all being inducted already, I’m worried I won’t get in at all. My family would kill me if I didn’t get in!

ATLAS (completely serious): Wait, really?! Sources, Zeph, you should get out of--

Zeph breaks down into laughter.

ZEPH: Atlas, I didn’t mean literally! You take things so seriously it’s hilarious. But still, they’d be pretty upset. I’d be the first Hernandez child in eight generations not to be inducted.

Atlas thinks for a moment, then nods.

ATLAS: Alright. I’ll help you out.

ZEPH: Wait, you will? Really?

ATLAS: Sure. For one thing, you’re never gonna accomplish much tryin’ to run before you can walk. Roped Current is damn near impossible to pull off without training up to Energy-Att level first. Or... (shrugs) ...being a natural-born Energy-Att like me, I guess.

ZEPH (dejectedly): Oh.

ATLAS: Don’t worry about it. If this Wave’s Crest thing is so important to you... why don’t we work to get in together? There’s plenty of other techniques I can teach you in the meantime. Stuff that only requires Water Attunement to pull off.

ZEPH: Wow, that’d be perfect! You’re awesome, Atlas, thanks!

In his excitement, he turns and moves to give Atlas a hug, but she goes for a handshake at the same time. They end up awkwardly pressing their palms together and shaking them up and down.

ZEPH (laughs): Alright, not sure what that was... but when do you wanna start training?

ATLAS: Now is fine.

ZEPH: Oh. Uh... wow. You really don’t mess around!

ATLAS: Are we gonna train or what?

As Atlas steps forward and gets into a combat stance, readying herself, Zeph catches her eye and smirks.

ZEPH: ...Alright, I think I get what Beckett sees in you now. You and him would be--blrgrlblubrlgrlgb!

Midway through his sentence, Atlas snaps her fingers, which are glowing with water stoichi. His voice abruptly shifts until it sounds like he’s trying to talk underwater.

ATLAS: Lesson 1. “Water Muffle.” Useful in many situations, and its effect... you can see for yourself.

ZEPH: Gluburgl blurrgrg ubulrgl...

Atlas waves her hand lazily, and the technique ends.

ATLAS: Any more talk about Beckett, and I use it again. Is that clear?

ZEPH: Uh... yeah.

ATLAS: Good. Now then. The first step to Water Muffle is...

_______________________

Notes: Dr. Vartokis was mentioned earlier, but here's his first actual appearance! Yes, he's yet another OC professor. The class he teaches seems to be one Zeph's particularly excited about! (His class is essentially the Penderghast equivalent of Muggle Studies, for the Harry Potter fans in my audience.)

Timeline: We're well into Endless Winter (ES book 2) by now!

_______________________

Next: "That Distance Between Us"

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie

DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

[hippychick006]

Misha Panel 

I’ve done this summary as it helps to have what Misha actually says to hand as more often than not, his stans misquote him. It’s also useful as Misha often changes things - as he appears to have done between his last virtual panel and this one. Note, I’m only focusing on the key parts where he talks about the show/Jared/Jensen.  It is not free of anti castiel/misha comments where I disagree, though those are few and far between for a change. It’s long so putting under a cut... 

- Misha confirms his filming finished in March prior to Covid [this comes up later in more detail].  Watching the last epiosode was an emotional experience for him.  For him, it represents the end of a chapter of his life. 

- Misha says fandoms not going anywhere [*hisses]

- Misha’s future work/projects?: working on senate race in georgia, publishing a book of poetry, couple of film projects he’s trying to get off the ground, one he’s not acting/directing in, the other he may act and/or direct 

- Jack brought Cass back but we didn’t get to see it, what happened?: different ending originally that Covid restrictions made impossible to produce. Cool ending involved bringing back lots of cast members over the years.  In the original ending, Castiel hadn’t gone to rebuild heaven, there was a different conclusion for him.  Misha purposely did not read the last two episodes before they aired as he wanted to be an audience member. He knew a little about Castiel/Jack’s fate in the abstract, but because he wasn’t in it, he doesn’t know what the answer was. He thinks them rebuilding heaven was less boots on the ground and more at a spiritual level [so he’s talking at the metaphysical/spiritual plane level and not corporeal) so they are everywhere (e.g. in drops of rain as per Jack’s speech to Sam in 19). That’s what I’m understanding at least.  He says that’s pure speculation though.]

- what qualities does castiel have similar to Misha?: there are a lot of similar qualities [backstabber comes immediately to my mind tbh]. Over time he and the character melded. Over time he evolved into something that didn’t quite fit in with either angels or humanity, he felt like an outsider which Misha has felt for much of his life. He became softer, more sensitive, he tried to do the right thing and be a good person. Oh wow, he says that in order to write to play to Misha’s strengths, the character had to “morph a bit”.  I loved bad!ass Castiel, he’s my favourite Castiel!

- What one thing will he take with him from playing Castiel?: on a professional level, it was fascinating to play a character for so many years. He discussed with J2 recently that the characters really became part of them. He doesn’t think that will happen again, just due to length of time the played them. On watching Jensen’s death scene, he cried but it was more “That’s Cass’ friend Dean dying”  It was weird to have a blurring of lines between yourself and your character but he thinks that’s what happened with all of them. He’ll take the character away, which will be a part of him forever. 

- Misha made fortune cookes and put inside lewd and inappropriate fortunes

[I don’t get this next bit as earlier in the panel he says he didn’t read the last two episodes so didn’t know what was going to happen and gave the answer I documented above and now we have this next question where his answer seems to contradict that]:

- Is there anything more he can say about the originally planned finale?:  He doesn’t want to be the one to reveal these state secrets, but what are they going to do, fire him?  He feels someone might have said to him, please don’t reveal what was going to happen, but can’t remember for sure if it’s true. He says there was a version of Sam and Dean’s heaven that was populated with all of the people that were from their past that they have come to love.  They could not do that because of Covid restrictions. 

- Favourite behind the scenes memory of “The boys”: He doesn’t have a favourite memory, they were close friends for 12 years. They had laughing fits and fights and got pissed off at each other. Some of his fondest memories of being at work anywhere were working on Supernatural.  He’s never going to be on a set again where there is so much mirth so he’s going to miss that for sure.

- he’s talking about Castiel’s wardrobe which is actually funny - e.g. original suit 3 sizes to big, sometimes showing blood and holes, sometimes being magically fixed, not wearing a tie, going back to wearing a tie... “Nobody complained about that too much...” [uh because some of us were watching other things and your own stans were looking at the background.]  He stole some trenchcoats and has them in his closet.

- How do you prepare for emotional scenes?: it’s hard for him to get into that emotional state. To prepare for the Castiel’s declaration of love scene and taken by the empty, Misha needs to be off by himself and not chatting with people, so for that scene he sat on his own in a dark corner of the stage and ruminated on his own.  Rob Hayter, stunt coordinator, noticed and stood sentinel and made sure no one disturbed him which Misha said was really sweet.  Everyone stopped fucking around for that scene to allow them to do what they needed to do.

-  How did you feel when you read the script when Castiel dies?: Misha knew for a long time that ending was coming, he’d been speaking to Rob Berens about it, he was really happy with it.  It was the ending he’d wanted for Cass so when he read the script, he was really happy it had made it to the page [i bet it was Misha, how are those destiel sales going through your Stands company?]. It felt it was a little “risky and a little brave” for the show to do [on a fucking network that is number one in Glaad reviews?  Are you being fucking serious right now?] He was happy to be a part of that [again sales] and have that character express love like that so he was happy with it. 

[Okay, so notice in his last virtual panel 2 weeks ago, he was very happy, he’s now starting to do exactly what he did with Karla movie as he goes on to say...]

He’s seen “some people” [you mean lgbtq+ people?!]  “complaining” about this is playing into the “bury the gays” trope which is an insidious and real trope in film and television storytelling in h/w over the years. Misha doesn’t think that’s what was happening with Castiel’s [he died second after the confession MIsha!] First of all Castiel isn’t dead, he’s in heaven working to rebuild it... [you didn’t know this 2 weeks ago, as far as you knew Castiel died and went to the empty].  So much good came from that declaration, because Cass was able to save Dean, which was essential to saving the world, so this declaration wasn’t so then fate strikes you down and you’re done forever. The declaration literally ended up saving the world. It was of Cass’ own volition, he wasn’t forced to do it, it was his choice, and he thinks that’s important, so maybe he’s naieve and doesn’t feel they are playing into that trope. 

[You were absolutely playing into that trope Misha and you didn’t give a shit as you did no research on playing an lgbtq+ character so sincerely fuck off]

He’s glad that Castiel got to express that and have that ending. He thinks thats kind of important and he’s proud the show did that. [again fuck off, this was done for you and it showed]  He thinks its a conversation they will continue to have as they continue to dissect it going forward [nope, consigned to the dumpster fire I’ve put the majority of the rest of Drabbernatural in]

- Do you think you will ever get an SPN tattoo?:  He doesn’t have any but he’s thinking about getting tattoos relating to his children.  Is that a sign of desperation that a true hasbeen will do? Should he get a tattoo of Jared and Jensen’s face.  He could get a tattoo of Castiel’s face on his abdomen.  He’s saying probably not. If they want to get one, totally supportive of that

-  what is his favourite moment of the finale?: Dean’s death scene, masterfully executed, excellent performances from both Jared and Jensen in that scene and made him cry

- best memory of your last day on the supernatural set?: everyone being really sweet, lot of tears from cast and crew. The last scene he shot as Castiel was the last scene of the day on a Friday. Him, Alex, Richard S and Jensen all had to get to Las Vegas for a fan convention the next morning. They shot late and finished at 1.30, it was Cass goodbye and Misha’s goodbye to the show.  He said they had to get a chartered flight because of the early flight [not sure why he’s saying this as I thought it was Jared’s plane they all travelled in?] He’s talking about going back - because of the issue with the plane - and they are all texting family, saying they love them, so it was such a strange night, he’d said goodbye to Supernatural, he said goodbye to Castiel and later on said goodbye to his kids because they thought they were going to die that night. :(

[Going to add that this puts to rest that Misha was due back for 19 and 20 even before covid, it confirms he was not going to be in either episode, though I maintain, they may have shot an extra scene while they had him to slot into 19 or 20]

- do you think Cass and the other angels got their wings back?: Yes, probably, they have Jack who is the new god. What a long and miserable experience that was of not having wings. Cass was so powerful when he started, he could snap his fingers and teleport and time travel and lost that with his broken wings and they didn’t come back. He doesn’t know why they didn’t fix him as Castiel would have been a much more powerful ally if he didn’t have to drive around in the pimp mobile [uh, for the same reason Sam lost his powers, deus ex machina]. He tells the story of Jared pressing buttons in the car causing the hydraulics to fail costing $10000 of repair.

- in your opinion, what colour are Castiels wings?: shit, I don’t know, I always thought they were black, but now that you’ve said that, they are rainbow coloured, how about that?

- What is the worst joke Jared and Jensen did to you?: [*cough fans looking for things to complain about or hate Jared on]: Jared and Jensen, as you know, they are not good people.  He talks about directing an episode and they got excited in the week before, they were going to break into his apartment and steal his furniture, they had all kinds of nefarious plans, the crew tipped him off and told him to watch his home and car keys. They put a fish under the seat in his car and one of the crew told him.  Jared removed the canvas on the director’s chair and laid it across so it looked like it was still the chair. Misha fell for that at least 5 times. That was pretty frustrating. Jared kept messing up his lines (which Misha said Jared never does) and Misha was directing in another room, Misha eventually went to see what the problem was and that’s when Jared pied him in the face. Everyone in the crew was complicit in the “assault”. Jensen brought him another shirt, said, “I’m sorry man, that’s sucks, that was too much.”  Jensen then pied him in the face.

- What is the real story behind the handprint in the finale?: Um I don't know, but I think it was a nice touch, that was a really lovely callback that worked well. I can’t remember how we came up with that, or was it in the script, I can’t remember. Wasn’t it a good callback to the very beginning. [Again, this appears to differ from what was being reported two weeks ago so might need to go back to that panel if I can get access to it]

-What’s your favourite memory from offline/online panels?: It’s much more fun to be live and in person. I don’t know, I have had some really fun... [PANDERING ALERT COMING UP] Jensen and I have some really fun panels together in Rome.  I don’t know why but we always just seem to have a real hoot there, talks about the resume off, they really enjoyed that. He had pizza delivered to a creation panel once.  He talks about the Saturday night special and he can’t wait till they can get back to that. 

[NOTE CYNICAL PART OF THIS IS FOR HIS FANBASE TO ONCE AGAIN CLAMOUR FOR MORE JENMISH PANELS. I DO NOT TRUST THIS MAN AT ALL]

- What was your favourite version of Castiel to play?: he had the most fun playing Lucifer because Mark P had left a great template to play Lucifer [you took the worst parts imo but Mark fucked his character up too]. He enjoyed playing the human parts of Castiel because it was fun to explore how to be human for the first time. Overall, just regular Cass. He wouldn’t have wanted to trade regular Castiel for other iterations. [A great question would be badass Castiel v late season wooby castiel preference]

[prayedtoyou]

overrated - read it on ao3

<<  when you get home, will you help me with a project?

>>  sure thing. i have to stop by the gas station on my way back, want anything?

<<  yeah, grab me some of those chocolate covered raisins that i like

>>  you got it. see you in 15

Dean had plans to go home after his three classes of the day to watch Netflix with his hand in his pants and eat pepper jack Cheez-Its until his stomach hurt, but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to cancel those plans to help out his roommate for a few hours. Dean doesn’t often interrupt plans with himself, especially on a day where he doesn’t have any homework and he doesn’t have to show up for a shift at the salvage yard, but Cas is someone Dean doesn’t mind giving up a  few luxuries for.

Dean met Cas in their Design 101 class during freshman year. It was nothing more than a foundation class, one that Dean and Cas had to take in pursuit of their BFA degrees in film and television, and photography, respectively. Dean expected to jack off to the course by flirting with the fellow classmates while still paying just enough attention to pass the class and turn in projects and assignments on time, but when Cas started sitting next to him in the third week of the semester and heckled him about listening to the professor and taking better notes, Dean really started to buckle down and take it a little more seriously.

They’ve been friends ever since. They had late night study sessions during their first year when they were only an elevator ride away from each other’s dorm rooms. Their first college summer was mostly spent at the Biggerson’s just off SCAD’s campus where Cas served tables; Dean would come in to bother him, drink coffee, and take advantage of the free WiFi. They found an apartment they could barely afford just south of the metro area and moved in a week before the new school year started. They still have that same apartment.

This was to Charlie’s disappointment, at first. She had suggested moving in together before Cas had and Dean had been on the fence about it. He loved Charlie, they got along, she understood his nerdy references, they had similar taste in women--but he had been holding out for another photography major to make his move. She quickly forgave him when she met and later moved in with her girlfriend, Dorothy.

There was just something about Cas that set him apart from Dean’s other friends. It might have to do with how passionate Cas was about his classes and major; since sixth grade, he’s known that he would grow up to be a photographer for National Geographic so he could travel the world and take pictures of all his favorite creatures. Or it might have to do with his sense of humor--a little dark and always just flirtatious enough to make Dean wonder just how serious he is and whether or not he should laugh or take him up on his offers.

More than likely, though, it has to do with how attractive he is, how his smile is so bright it puts the sun to shame, how his laugh makes Dean’s heart swell up like a helium balloon, how he’s intelligent and eloquent, but also absolutely clueless about a lot of stuff Dean considers to be required life knowledge. Does most of that knowledge revolve around Star Wars, Back to the Future, and Indiana Jones movie references? Yes, but that’s beside the point.

And that’s what led Dean to living with the guy for going on three years, to spending entire days dedicated to showing Cas his favorite movies and shows, to picking up dark chocolate Raisinets on his way home from school, to walking into their apartment and calling out Cas’s name just like Ricky Ricardo.

Cas shouts back from the opposite side of the apartment where their bedrooms are. Dean finds Cas in his room, furniture pushed away from one wall and replaced with Cas’s favorite reading chair from the living room (that old, forest-green armchair that Cas found at an antique store on the Savannah River that Dean verbally hated, but secretly used when Cas wasn’t around because it’s about the most comfortable thing in the world), and a camera set up on a tripod facing the chair. Cas is wearing that white button down that looks especially good against the tan he got over the summer, the one that matches Dean’s after they spent several long days on Tybee Island right before their senior year started.

“So, what’s the project?” Dean asks, handing over the box of Raisinets. He curses at himself for forgetting to get a snack of his own while he was out.

Cas takes the box with a smile. “Thanks, Dean. This one is based on touch and what emotions it brings out in us, but we can’t have more than one subject in the shot. So, I need you to put this on.” Cas reaches out and drops a small black object into Dean’s palm.

It’s… a tube of lipstick.

“Uh, Cas? I thought we’ve established that I’m not really much of a model.”

Cas rolls his eyes, no doubt remembering the arguments they had on the river walk during their second year when Cas tried to shoot Dean for an assignment that ended up with them deciding that Dean would stick with filming and Cas would recruit performing arts majors to be his models. “I know, I'm not taking pictures of you, you’re taking pictures of me. I already have the camera focused and everything, you just need to put that on, give me a few kisses, and snap some pictures.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits. “K-kisses?”

“Yeah. I’m using lipstick kisses to represent my past relationships and how I feel about them touching me. Just cheek and forehead kisses. We’re not going to be Frenching or anything.”

“Oh.” Dean looks down at the lipstick, caught somewhere between disappointment and relief, wondering if it would be better or worse if these kisses were meant for Cas’s lips instead of the rest of his face. Would it even be right of him to take Cas up on this offer when he already fantasizes about putting kisses all over Cas’s skin? Would it be wrong for their first kisses to be over some project? “I don’t know how I feel about this, Cas.”

“About what, kissing me? They’re not even real kisses, you just have to pucker up like you're kissing your mom.”

Dean chews on his lip. Would it be so bad to take advantage of the situation and indulge in something he’s wanted since their second semester together? Shouldn’t he be a good friend and roommate and help Cas with his project, no matter the requirements?

Cas must see the uncertainty in Dean’s expression because he continues with, “Come on, Dean, we’re graduating next semester, we’re practically professionals. Are you really going to be embarrassed about a little lipstick when you could be filming HBO sex scenes a year from now?”

Dean looks back up at Cas. If he’s going to insist, who is Dean to tell him no? “Alright, asshole, I’ll do it. But you owe me.”

Cas smiles wide and, damn, Dean would wear lipstick every day if it meant Cas would look at him like that. “Okay, there’s a mirror behind you. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just put some on and lay it on me.”

Dean turns to find Cas’s mirror hung up with his portfolio. Photos are hung, tacked, and taped up from vacations, day trips, school projects, and family holidays. Dean is up there a few times: laughing on the opposite side of the table from Cas at Biggerson’s, a selfie of the two of them under the unflattering flash of a smartphone in a dark movie theater, the only good shot Cas got of Dean that day on the river walk, Dean asleep on the couch with a book folded up in his arms like a teddy bear.

Dean didn’t even know Cas took that last one.

He puts on the lipstick, ignoring the photos of himself. It’s definitely not as easy as he thought it would be--staying inside the lines was something he’s improved upon since childhood, but crayons are a lot different from makeup. He manages to swipe the color onto his face, grimacing at the taste of it.

When he looks back at Cas, all he gets is a blank stare and a slight nod. Feeling less than confident with deep red lips, Dean steps up to the plate.

“Where do you want it?”

Dean can hear the click of Cas’s throat as he swallows. He raises a hand, pointing to the knob of his left cheekbone.

“Here.”

Dean steps just a little closer. Cas is about his height, maybe an inch shorter, but it’s not even noticeable when Dean tilts Cas’s face up with a finger and thumb gently pinching his chin. He leans in and--smells Cas’s shampoo, notices the pores on his nose, finds trimmed whiskers along his cheeks--presses his lips right where Cas wanted them.

With the lipstick, Dean can’t taste Cas’s skin, but he can smell the face wash where his nose is sticking into Cas’s temple. Like pomegranates.

When he pulls away, he knows he’s blushing, but he has no way of hiding it, so he just smiles and says, “That’s a good color for you.”

Cas, a little pink himself, scoffs. “Just take the picture, Taylor Swift.”

Cas takes his seat, Dean steps behind the camera. He clicks the shutter button a few times, watching Cas’s face on the screen. He’s leaning his face up and slightly away, lips parted, eyes cast toward the door instead of the lense. It’s a great angle to show off that jawline of his.

Dean was never destined to be a model, but Cas looks just as good in photos as he does in real life. He knows exactly how to position himself, which light to use, how his face should look. He could model, if he ever wanted. Dean asked him if he would star in a short film Dean had to film, but Cas just laughed and said if he wanted to act he would have gone into performing arts.

“That should be enough,” Cas notes, and Dean realizes that he had taken way too many photos while thinking about Cas’s face. He backs away from the camera. “I’ll need a fresh layer for each kiss, so apply some more lipstick.”

Dean does as he’s told and goes back to Cas to kiss him again. This time it’s just above Cas’s right eyebrow. They go on like this a handful more times, until Cas has lipstick stains across his entire face. Each time feels like the first, and Dean has a harder and harder time removing his lips from Cas’s skin as they progress through the photos. Cas doesn’t seem to be as phased--he sits right down and assumes his pose. In each and every picture, Cas mostly just looks sad.

“Why do you look like that?” Dean finally asks after the sixth kiss, snapping pictures.

Cas unfurrows his brow and looks up from the floor. “Like what?”

“Like your dog just died.”

Cas cracks a small smile. “These kisses represent each of my exes and how I felt about my relationships with them.”

“They were all that bad?”

“They certainly weren’t good. After being cheated on, left for someone else, and dumped over text, I don’t exactly have fond memories of most of these people.”

“I remember when that dickhead Balth slept with that web designer. You didn’t leave the house for a week.”

“You took me to the Atlanta Aquarium and pointed at all the ugliest fish and said they looked like him.”

“And I was right. ”

When Cas smiles broadly, Dean sneaks in another picture. The shutter of the lense gives him away, but Cas doesn’t mention it.

“Remember when I watched 500 Days of Summer eight times in two days?” Cas asks. “That’s because Hannah kept telling me she didn’t want a relationship and ended up leaving me for someone who she got engaged to after five months.”

Dean chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, I remember. I had to force you into the shower and then we went out for burgers.”

“And when Gadreel drunk texted me all the things he hated about me--”

“We toilet papered his frat house and went to a baseball game the next day. We got so sunburnt.”

Cas laughs at the memory and Dean captures it with the camera. He looks so much better like this, happy and covered in kisses from someone who actually cares about him. He deserves to be this happy for the rest of his life.

Cas sobers up and looks at Dean. His expression is soft, something closer to adoration than anything else. Dean wonders if he’s just amused  by the makeup.

“You were always there for me, Dean.”

Since Dean can’t take a compliment to save his life, he shrugs it off. “I was just trying to be a good friend. You did the same for me when Lisa and I broke up.”

They go quiet for a moment. Dean reflects back on the two weeks after their break up. Dean was drinking daily, taking whiskey in a travel mug to his classes, going to bars at night, falling asleep on the couch with a bottle in his hands. It took Cas several tries to get him out of his rut, first by asking Dean what was wrong, then by requesting that he eat something solid, and finally by whacking him with his rolled up yoga mat until Dean cleaned himself up and changed into some fresh clothes.

Dean had grumbled about it for a few days, but it was just what he needed. He couldn’t mope around forever and fall into a pit of alcoholism just because his year-long girlfriend finally got fed up with his shit. Cas spent extra time with him that month, changing his schedule and cancelling plans to hang out or do homework in the same room as him, occasionally reaching out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder or knocking their feet together to remind him that he wasn’t alone. It helped tremendously.

The worst part wasn’t losing Lisa, it was coming to terms with everything he had been trying to deny since he was seventeen. His attraction to men was something he first noticed when a new kid came to his high school and he fell for the linebacker build and honey-sweet Cajun accent. But after dating women exclusively his whole life, the last thing he wanted was for Cas to feel like some sort of experiment.

“What happened? With Lisa. You never told me.”

Cas catches his eye, but Dean directs his gaze away quickly, suddenly finding the curves of the camera very interesting.

“I, um… I wasn’t very good to her. I was kind of using her to get past a crush I had on someone, but it didn’t go away and she said she couldn’t keep living like that. Like she was competing to be my girlfriend. I don’t blame her one bit, she was right to leave me. I just thought, if it was just a crush, it wouldn’t be a problem once I was with someone else, but when I couldn’t stop liking them…”

Dean chances a look at Cas, who looks just as sad as he had in those pictures. His eyes are wide and it almost looks comical with all the lipstick kisses on his face.

“I realized it was more than just some crush,” Dean finishes lamely.

Every part of him wants to tell Cas. But what would be the point? The two of them will graduate and Cas will become the next most famous National Geographic photographer and Dean will be looking for work as a camera holder on low budget movies and shows that may or may not be cancelled halfway through filming. He could always turn to porn as a last resort, but he'll never make it as far as Cas and he’ll never make it with Cas.

In the beginning, he didn’t want to ruin their relationship. They worked well together, whether it was study sessions or getting back at exes or picking out mismatching furniture at second-hand stores. He worried about losing his friend. Now he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows he’s going to lose Cas one way or another, and it will hurt less if they don’t get involved with each other any more than they already are.

Cas takes a deep breath, processing the information. He searches the room. His eyes land back on the camera.

“I have one more shot to get.”

Dean blinks. It’s what he expected. It wouldn’t matter if Dean subtly tried to imply how in love he is with Cas or if he bluntly told him, he would always get the cold shoulder. It’s for the best, he tries to convince himself. Any other way would just end in a bigger heartbreak than necessary.

He turns back to the mirror. He finds the photo of him and Cas in the movie theater again. He can’t remember what movie they saw, but their faces are nearly touching and Dean’s arm is around Cas and he wishes more than anything that he’d taken the chance to kiss him back then. Because, what’s the quote? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Does it count when Dean is, technically, in love, but just hasn’t voiced it yet?

With a new coat of lipstick, he faces Cas again. He’s standing in the middle of the room, right next to the camera, ready for his last kiss. Dean musters up all his fake confidence and closes the distance between them, standing just a little closer than he had before.

“And this time?” Dean asks.

Cas looks hesitant. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he should have chosen someone else to kiss him over and over again. Someone who he wouldn’t have to awkwardly live with afterwards. Someone who wouldn’t have made a straightforward project into something uncomfortable.

His hand comes up to his face. He points a single finger to his bottom lip.

“Here.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He hunts for any sort of lie in Cas’s eyes, any indication that he didn’t want it, that he wanted to take it back. But Cas just looks right back at him, waiting, patient.

Dean fits the corner of Cas’s jaw into the center of his palm, runs his thumb across Cas’s cheek. A lipstick kiss smears under the pad of his finger, wiping into nothing but a blur, just like the memory of whichever lover that one was meant to be.

When their lips meet, Dean forgets about every single reason he didn’t let himself have this before. Everything in his head melts away until there’s just Cas and mouth and hands and Cas and Cas and Cas.

Cas doesn’t hold back. He grips Dean’s waist like a life raft in the middle of the ocean, opens his mouth and moans when Dean slips his tongue in. He takes everything Dean gives him. He moves his head aside when Dean trails his mouth along his jaw and down his neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at the skin. Dean pulls him closer, desperate to feel as much of Cas as he possibly can.

Dean feels like he’s shaking, or maybe vibrating, with need. Everything is tilting, moving, wavering around him. The lights could blow and he wouldn't even notice, he’s too wrapped up, too confused about which way is left or right.

Their mouths come together again and the world straightens out on its axis. They slow down, brushing their lips together the way pages of a book slide against one another. They take their time. They learn the way they move with each other.

Eventually, they part. Not to gasp for breath, but to rest their foreheads together; to align their hearts. Between them, Dean can smell Cas’s toothpaste and taste the lipstick.

“We should do projects together more often,” Dean concludes humorlessly.

“I think we should skip the projects and just make out,” Cas counters.

Dean pulls back to laugh quietly at Cas, but then sees his face. Cas is covered in lipstick, all around his mouth, his chin, across his jaw, down his neck. The makeup follows the patterns of Dean’s kisses, right down to where he had sucked Cas’s earlobe into his mouth.

He lets loose, practically wheezing at the state of Cas’s face. Dean’s must look similar, because Cas erupts into laughter too and they both sink into each other, bodies convulsing in their arms.

“Come on, come on. One more picture,” Cas begs, pulling out of Dean’s grasp and positioning himself on the chair. He couldn't wipe that smile off his face if he tried, and it looks like he isn’t putting in any effort at all to push it away.

Dean presses the shutter button three times, hoping at least one of them is a good shot, before diving around the camera to pull Cas into his embrace again.

The lipstick ends up on chests, wrist, bed sheets, and hips, but they don’t mind. They might even keep the tube for another time.

tags below the cut!

@sweatercas | @queenvee08 | @fierydeans | | @scamp-00 | @cottondean | @hallowedbecastiel | @wanderingcas | Please let me know if you’d like to be added to/taken off the list!

[arcticfox007]

The Only One That Matters

Destiel December 2020 Challenge

Heads up, this ended up being long! Continuation of Days 2-6, the Master List is pinned to my profile :)

Day 7: Peppermint (on AO3)

*Charlie never died in my headspace, so, yeah. She threw her laptop into that Nazi’s face, kicked him in the groin, and got away – because that’s what should have happened.*

*** 

               With only 4 days left until Christmas, Dean had decided that going Christmas shopping was another holiday tradition that Cas had yet to experience. Sam had his doubts about this one, he was fairly certain that Dean hadn’t actually been near a mall or shopping plaza this close to the holidays, and possibly didn’t know what he was getting into. In an attempt to avoid disaster, Sam found himself calling Charlie for back-up. If anyone would help him with Operation Angel-Impala (which was the name Charlie quickly gave Sam’s not-really-a-plan), it was the Winchester’s adopted sister.

               “Yeah, shopping at a mall right now will probably not encourage warm fuzzy feelings. I’d be shocked if they even made it home without Dean punching someone in the face. I’m really surprised he even suggested it.”

               “Charlie, he’s thrown himself into giving Cas the whole Christmas experience. While sickeningly adorable, it’s not like Dean and I even know what that is. I’m pretty sure I was still an infant the last time we had a real tree.” Charlie let out a long-suffering sigh.

               “Okay, okay. Give me a minute.” Sam tried to be patient as he heard soft tapping noises, likely from Charlie’s keyboard. “Here’s something. It’s maybe ninety minutes or so away from you guys, but it’s not far from where I am. There’s this historic riverside city that has something called Midnight Madness where all the stores are open late into the night. They have a bunch of sales and decorations, but from the event listing it looks like mostly locals show up, and it’s semi-remote. Ooo, didn’t you say they’d been baking together?”

               “Yeah. I’d say that I’ve never seen so much pie in my life, but I live with Dean.” Charlie snickered.

               “Well, they have a chocolate making event that people can sign up for. Here. This thing runs every night up until Christmas Eve.” Sam’s phone pinged and he saw Charlie had sent him the link to the Midnight Madness event. He clicked on the chocolate making link and grinned.

               “This is perfect Charlie! Now I just need to convince them this is better than the mall.”

               “Oh, I have got you covered.” Sam didn’t have the chance to even ask before Dean walked in waving his phone in the air.

               “Hey, Charlie just texted me asking if we wanted to go to some Christmas shopping thing with her tonight. I thought this would be a good chance for Cas to get in some more holiday experience.” Sam just laughed and told Dean that they should get ready if he wanted to go and his brother rushed off to tell Cas.

               “You’re my favorite sibling Charlie.”

               “Well, you got to pick me. You were just stuck with Dean,” Charlie teased. “Anyway, I’m getting us all tickets to the chocolate making thing. Dean can’t say no if it’s a Christmas gift from me and I kind of want to see this new Christmasy Dean for myself. There’s a restaurant and bar called The Phoenix Emporium; we can meet there.” Sam wrote down the bar’s name and address looking forward to having someone to plot against Cas and Dean with (for their own good, of course).

               “Thanks again Charlie, we’ll see you later tonight.”

***

               Cas had already gotten gifts in preparation for Christmas, so he wasn’t sure why going out Christmas shopping mattered. Even so, he didn’t argue when Dean said they were going out. Dean had been in such a good mood recently that Cas was more than happy to do whatever was asked of him.

Castiel did wonder why Dean was in such a good mood. He’d like to know what it took to get Dean into this type of mindset, for future reference. Maybe it was just celebrating Christmas, but Cas had known Dean for a long time and he’d never seen a holiday make him so happy. Perhaps… well, maybe there was something to what Sam had told him yesterday. Sam had said Dean was better when Cas was around which wasn’t something the angel had ever thought about before. Cas knew that Dean had made him better, and he preferred it when he was with Dean. It had taken him years to work out that he was actually in love with Dean, but he’d been satisfied to just watch over him until Metranon stole his grace and Castiel had become human.

When Cas had woken up after being stabbed by a reaper to find Dean’s concerned and pain-stricken face in front of him – felt Dean’s warm calloused hands cradling his face, well, he hadn’t been able to control his emotions as easily. It didn’t help that Dean had left him on his own only to show up again still acting like he cared. Regaining his grace had did nothing to get his desire for more with Dean under control, despite knowing how unlikely it was that Dean felt the same way. So, why was he even allowing himself to consider the possibility? Cas sighed deeply.

“Cas? Everything okay?” Cas looked up to see Dean’s hypnotizing green eyes glancing at him in the rearview mirror. Cas had conceded ‘shotgun’ to Sam because his legs were so much longer. Sam had his headphones on listening to a podcast and Cas must have stayed quiet for too long after Dean had been talking to him.

“Yes Dean. I apologize, you were saying something about your mother?” Dean’s  eyes were back on the road as he responded.

“Uh, yeah. I was just saying that she said she’d stop by the bunker in about a week. I’d hoped she would come for Christmas but she can’t make it.” Cas reached his hand out to gently touch Dean’s shoulder for just a moment, wishing he had a reason to keep his hand there longer.

“I’m sorry she couldn’t be there for Christmas,” Cas said softly. Surprisingly, Dean reached back to stop Castiel’s fingers from moving away. Cas froze, not daring to move a muscle.

“Thanks Cas. I – I just wanted to say that I’m happy you came back home when she left.” Dean briefly squeezed Cas’ fingers before returning his hand to the steering wheel. Castiel slowly pulled his hand back into his lap breathing out a quiet ‘you’re welcome’ in response to Dean’s words. The way Dean had been acting recently, this was why Castiel had started to hope. The car fell silent as he stared at the hand on which the angel could still feel a ghost of Dean’s touch.

***

               Dean couldn’t really say no to participating in the chocolate making event when Charlie gave them tickets to attend as a Christmas present. He didn’t even grumble much about it; he didn’t want to make her unhappy and for whatever reason Charlie and Sam were unusually excited about making chocolate. Dean could hear them animatedly debating the merits of milk versus dark chocolate as they walked ahead of him and Cas.

So, Dean had sucked it up and let her lead the way through the Christmas lit streets of the historic town. He had to admit that the town was a great location for Christmas events. The old stone buildings were dripping with colorful lights and there were lit candles in most of the windows. He was happy to see how Cas was looking around with a small smile on his face as he watched a family take their children to different stores looking at the windows and checking something off of a list. Dean looked around and noticed there were a lot of people carrying around the same list. They must have some sort of scavenger hunt going on. He caught Charlie’s sleeve to get her attention.

               “Charlie,” Dean whispered. “Do you know what’s up the scavenger hunt?” Charlie gave Dean a confused look.

               “Really? You want to know about… alright, hold on.” Bemused, Charlie pulled out a booklet and flipped through. “Here.”

               Dean took the paper from her as they continued walking. It was listed as an all-ages window and store hunt with different prizes every night and Dean laughed as he saw what they were supposed to be looking for.

               “Cas!” Castiel caught up to Dean a few moments later. “We should do this.” Dean pointed to the event page. Cas gave Dean an all to rare laugh when he saw what Dean was showing him.

               “Angel scavenger hunt. You’ve already found plenty of angels, Dean.” Dean playfully bumped Cas’ shoulder.

               “Yeah, well, you’re the only one that matters.” Crap, did Dean just say that out loud? “Uh, I mean, c’mon, don’t you want to participate in Christmas traditions? You did ask me for help with that, right?” Cas was staring at him, as if trying to solve a puzzle but Dean just nervously pushed the event booklet into the angel’s hands. “Er, if you don’t want to look for ‘angels’ you can see if there’s something else you’d like to do.” Cas gave Dean a quiet smile and put the booklet in his pocket.

               “We should go to Charlie’s chocolate class first, then we can look for other traditions to try.” Dean readily agreed and they hurried to catch up with the others.

***

               Sam was impressed with Charlie’s devious but brilliant maneuvering. The chocolate making event was almost entirely couples, and there was only room for two people at most stations. She had managed to get Cas and Dean set up at one table and then set herself and Sam up at a table about two rows back. Charlie had informed Sam that they needed a good vantage point to better access what they were up against for Operation Angel-Impala. Sam could tell that she was entertained by the entire situation, but also honestly invested in Dean’s happiness.

               “Y’know Sam, I’m not sure we have to do all that much here. Dean asked me to find out what the scavenger hunt thing going on was, and then I heard him asking Cas if he wanted to do it.” Sam’s jaw dropped.

               “Huh, maybe you’re right. I mean, I figured a lot of Dean’s recent effort was because he felt guilty about something Cas told Mom, but volunteering for a cutesy Christmas event seems bit above and beyond if that were the case.” Charlie nodded eagerly.

               “And look how they’re all in each other’s space. Anyone else here would assume they are already dating.”

               “Yeah, but they’re always like that. Staring at one another for long stretches of time, finding excuses to touch each other… recently Dean is being a lot nicer to Cas though.” Charlie smiled brightly.

               “Sam, maybe you should let Dean know you’d be happy for him. If he was with Cas I mean.” Sam looked puzzled.

               “Charlie, Dean doesn’t want to talk to me about his feelings. He doesn’t even want to admit he has feeling outside of a love for pie and Baby.”

               “Uh-huh. Not to state the obvious but Cas has a dude’s vessel. Have you ever seen Dean hook up with another guy?” Sam’s eyebrows raised and then dropped to a deep furrow.

               “Um, no? I don’t care about that though. I mean, maybe that’s part of Dean’s hang-up, but I just want him to have someone in his life that makes him better, happier, more willing to live. Cas does that.”  Charlie let out an exasperated sigh.

               “Sam Winchester, you need to tell him that! If you’ve never known Dean to have even considered hooking up with a guy, it will help him to know you support him. I’m sure part of him understands you wouldn’t be bothered, but it helps to hear it.” Sam nodded solemnly still looking at his brother who was busy flipping through the chocolate making menu and laughing at something Cas had said.

               “Alright Charlie. I can do that. I think I have an idea but we may have to explore some of the art tents later.”

               “Deal. Now, to the chocolate, Sam!”

***

               Cas didn’t actually care what they were making. Dean had seemed shocked when Cas said he wasn’t familiar with peppermint, so they began working through the instructions on how to make something called peppermint bark. All Cas cared about was how easily Dean was laughing. How often Dean put himself into Cas’ space when it used to be Dean who would lecture the angel about personal space. What Cas really couldn’t stop thinking about was how Dean had told him that he’d found the only angel that mattered when looking at Cas. Cas couldn’t be completely sure what Dean meant by saying that, but he did know that the words had swept through him in a rush of warmth and joy.

Glancing behind Dean, Cas noticed his right wing had wrapped itself around Dean without the angel having been really aware of it. Ever since his wings started to heal Cas found himself wrapping them around Dean more and more. Castiel was still hesitant to share with Dean that he was in love with him, but he was starting to learn new ways to show it. He saw the way Dean relaxed when his wing curled around him. Even though he couldn’t quite feel it, he was somehow sensing their presence.

Cas smiled as Dean wiped chocolate on Cas’ nose. Then he smugly retaliated by sticking a chocolate covered finger into Dean’s ear.

***

               “Eugh! No fair Cas!” As gross as the feeling of melted chocolate in his ear was, Dean couldn’t help laughing. Their peppermint bark was in a freezer to help it set faster, although they had been told by one of the volunteers running the event that two bars takes a lot less time than a whole pan. When he looked up at Cas’ self-satisfied grin and chocolate smeared nose Dean dissolved into laughter all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good.

               “I can’t help that I have had billions of years to develop my tactical expertise. I’m very good at picking the most advantageous targets for attack.” Cas raised a single eyebrow, the haughty look only ruined by the smile Cas was fighting to hold back. Well, that and the chocolate still on his nose.

               “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s get this cleaned up before they bring back our candy bars.” Dean took one of the wipes the volunteers had place around the room and before he could think about it too much, he raised the cloth towards Cas’ face. Dean gently wiped the smudge from Cas’ nose as the angel stared at Dean with a soft look in his blue eyes that Dean couldn’t quite identify.

“There ya go, Cas. Nose smudge eliminated.” Dean winked at Castiel. He wasn’t even that surprised when the angel returned the favor, softly wiping the chocolate from Dean’s ear. Cas kept staring at Dean the whole time. Dean gave the angel another quick smile and finished cleaning up their station, wondering for just a moment what was going on between him and his best friend. Dean decided that he was just going to go along with it for now, he’d try to actually figure it out later. Or possibly never. Either way, he wasn’t going to screw up the awesome night they were having so far.

“What is Charlie doing?” Dean glanced behind him at Sam and Charlie’s table. By the time he looked Charlie seemed to have quickly put away her phone. Dean shrugged.

“I dunno, maybe she’s looking at the other stuff to do here since her booklet is in your pocket.” Cas looked unconvinced but turned back towards Dean anyway.

“Do you really want to participate in this Angel Scavenger Hunt?” Cas asked Dean skeptically.

“Yeah, if you think it might be fun. We are good at hunting things after all. Also, I’d like to go into a few of the stores anyway. I want to get Charlie something for Christmas since she put this all together for us.” Cas thought for a moment and then looked back at Dean.

“Alright. If nothing else I agree we should find a gift for Charlie.” Dean grinned and bumped his shoulder on Cas.

“You asked me to help you with Christmas traditions, Cas. I just want to do a good job.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel replied seriously. Then Cas turned to see one of the volunteers bringing back their peppermint bark experiment. Dean reached out to take the wrapped bars while Cas thanked the volunteer for helping with the event.

“We should try some before Charlie tries to steal it.” Dean broke off a piece and handed it to Castiel.

“Sam won’t steal it?”

“Nah, he hates white chocolate. Something about pretending to be chocolate and it being a lie. I dunno, he’s dramatic.” Cas tipped his head to the side examining the colorful candy. After another moment he took a small bite. Dean knew he couldn’t really taste much human food, but he also knew peppermint had a strong flavor. Cas chewed slowly. And then took another small bite.

“I can taste some of it, I think. It reminds me of toothpaste.” Cas half smiled as he ate more.

“I’m glad we found something else you can kind of enjoy. We can also get coffee while we’re walking around.” Dean just kept feeling like he had to smile tonight.

“You should try as well, Dean.” Dean took another chunk from one of the bars and was pleasantly surprised by the burst of flavor on his tongue.

“Hey, we did a good job on this stuff!” Cas looked at Dean fondly just before they were interrupted by an energetic redhead grabbing a piece of the bar still in Dean’s grasp.

“Peppermint bark, excellent. Wow, this is good guys, you have hidden talents!”

“Hey, hands off! Where’s yours and Sam’s? We can trade.” Dean was tall enough that he easily held the candy out of Charlie’s reach.

“Sorry Dean, that’s long gone!” Charlie snickered as Sam joined them.

“She’s telling the truth Dean; I barely had any myself.” Charlie snorted in response to Sam’s accusation.

“Don’t listen to him, he had half a bar. So, what do you guys want to do now?”

“Charlie,” began Castiel sincerely, “I want to say thank you for the Christmas gift.” Charlie practically beamed at Cas.

“You are very welcome, Castiel. I’m happy you guys had fun!” Sam and Dean also thanked Charlie.

“Oh, hey. We should get a picture. Go stand in front of that Christmas tree over there. Dean, hold up your bar with Cas.” Charlie took longer than Dean though was needed to make sure he and Cas were posing the way she wanted, but he wasn’t going to complain seeing how the whole night had been her idea. Some passerby even took a picture of all four of them together.

“Hey guys, you mind if we split up for a while?” Sam asked. “I sort of want to check out the crafts tents and Charlie said she’d go with me. I know it’s not really your thing, Dean.”

“Yeah, sure. Cas and I were going to go check out the stores up on the main street. You guys want to meet back at that bar where we started, in maybe two hours? We can get dinner.” Everyone agreed easily and Dean led Cas over to the volunteer station to get the Angel checklist. Dean was really looking forward to finding more ways to make sure Cas knew he belonged.

***

@jellydeans, @galaxycastiel, @my-favourite-hellatus, @nguyenxtrang

[talesmaniac89]

Well, Hello There Stranger - Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Sam informs you that Dean’s suffering from temporary memory loss and has forgotten you. Yet, when you meet your boyfriend, it isn’t the cold eyes of a stranger that meets yours.

Triggers: Fear, Worry, Temporary Memory Loss (Next part is fluffy, I swear!)

Y/N = Your name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Read Part 2 Here

---

“(Y/N), before you go in there… There’s something you should know,” Sam was standing at the door when you nearly threw yourself out of the car as soon as you’d parked the beat-up old truck next to Dean’s Impala. Your phone with the many missed calls from Sam as you’d chosen to focus on the road lying forgotten in the car, telling the same story the younger Winchester was clearly going to force you to stop to listen to.

The big guy had to physically reach out to stop you from trying to rush past him and into the room. Your earlier conversation with the younger Winchester still ringing in your ears and making you deaf to his words. 

“I know you’re a few hours away, but you need to come back to the motel (Y/N). Dean got hit, and… Shit...  Just come,”

Dean was in there, and something was wrong. Hell… You might not have been given enough information to know what was wrong, but that was all you needed. Your Dean, the man you loved more than life itself, was in trouble. There was no way you weren’t going to be by his side. 

“(Y/N)! Listen to me!” Sam stood in your way once more, stubbornly separating you from your boyfriend with just his body and the flimsy motel room door. It hurt you, physically and mentally, to hold your body still and stop from rushing past him to be with Dean. But, as you squared your jaw and set your pained, angry eyes in the youngest Winchester, your anger quickly faltered a little at the worry that has stained his hazel eyes. Quickly replaced with the whispers of soon to be heartbreak.

Oh God… No.

A thousand different scenarios were playing out behind the door and in your mind. Each was as true as the next until you could see what was hiding behind the thin motel room door with your own eyes. Like some twisted and cruel form of Schrodinger's Cat, with your heart playing the part of the feline. Unwilling to let you know whether your heart was broken or whole until you opened the door and confirmed yourself. 

“Dean’s alright… Or, well, he will be,” Sam hurried to add the words as an arm reached out to steady you. Clearly seeing the pain darken your (Y/E/C) eyes as your heart acted the part of Schrodinger's plaything; not whole nor shattered, just somewhere in the painfully grey middle. 

“Then just let me see him Sammy! I need to see him,” 

You could hear the barely controlled hysteria through the shake of your own voice as you looked up at the hunter who was forcefully holding you in place. Unwilling to let you run to your boyfriend’s side. Though your whole body, every fucking gasp of air, was crying out to him. Aching to be near him.

Yet, even with the promise of Dean’s life being safe, Sam didn’t release the hold on your shoulders. Nor did any of the worry in his eyes subside. Dean was alright, or would be, yet something was still wrong. And if Sam wasn’t worried about his brother’s life… That could only mean that worry was focused elsewhere.

“What’s wrong with him?” You added, much more quietly, as you realised the truth hiding behind the hesitant worry in Sam’s eyes. He wasn’t worried for Dean’s safety; he was worried about how you would react to whatever was on the other side of the door.

“Hear me out… Please, don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds…” Sam’s words were still hesitant. His hands finally dropping from your shoulders, now that he knew you weren’t going to run in guns blazing to save your boyfriend from whatever threat, real or imagined, that was out to hurt him.

“Spit it out Winchester,” You flinched at the harsh steely cut in your tone as soon as it left you. But you couldn’t control it, not until you could see that Dean was in fact alive and well with your own eyes. 

“The curse… It rebounded when we were trying to get it under lock and key,” The younger hunter’s voice barely rose above a whisper as he relayed the news to you. The knot in your stomach growing into a tangled mess that resembled the collection of protective charms on your side of the bed you shared with Dean. 

“Dean was hit…”

“What does that mean Sam?” Your words came out shaky and breathless as you tried to remember the finer details of the curse. The small, unassuming book that hid the curse had just one word printed on its cover in pretty cursive letters.

Memories. 

That was exactly it. The damned curse stole people’s memories. In the back of your mind, empty eyes and vacant souls stared back at you from the many lives the curse had already stolen. Painting a warped image of the man on the other side of the door. Forest green eyes empty, like a long-forgotten field left to wither. Unable to even remember his own name.

“It’s… Not as bad as it sounds. The curse didn’t manage to fully work, it’s just some backlash. Cas says it should correct itself within the next 24 to 48 hours. At first it was correcting itself faster, but it’s slowed down and...” Sam said, speaking over the broken sob that threatened to explode into the empty motel parking lot. 

“He just… (Y/N), Dean can’t remember anything from the last four years,”

The worry in Sam’s eyes suddenly made sense. Four years ago, Dean Winchester didn’t have the faintest clue who you were. You’d met him on a hunt, two years and five months ago, the two of you were soon coming up on your two-year anniversary. Two years of blissful happiness by the side of your soldier. So, that meant, the man hiding behind that door, your Dean Winchester, didn’t have the faintest clue who you were. Of what the two of you shared. 

You’d been discarded by his mind. The picture-perfect memories you shared were nothing more than a crumpled and faded polaroid to the hunter, with your smiling face scratched out and forcefully removed from the equation.

He wouldn’t remember the quiet nights spent wrapped in each other's arms soothing away the pain of another lost friend or ghosted kisses over still forming bruises. All the empty promises of an apple pie life after you finally managed to get rid of all the evil bastards. He’d have forgotten all your inside jokes, all your little shared quirks, the comforting morning routine you’d easily slipped into as you woke up by his side every day. All of it, every little memory that was more precious to you than life itself, was lost to him. 

Dean couldn’t remember you. He couldn’t remember ever meeting you, or… Loving you. 

“Oh…” Was all you managed to push out, suddenly unsure if you wanted to enter the small motel room. If what would meet you were the eyes of a stranger. 

A man who’d look at you like you were just another piece of a puzzle he couldn’t make fit. Another case. Would you be able to deal with watching his green eyes, that usually burned like a forest fire, look at you with the blank disinterest of glancing over a stranger he’d pass by on the road? 

“But! It’s only for a day or two. Castiel is sure his memories will return, and soon. Hell, he’s already showing signs of getting better. Before you came… It was 14 years,” Sam’s eyes were pained as memories of earlier hours, while he waited for you to join them, sprung unwanted up in his warm eyes. So much had happened in those fourteen years. And with Dean’s memories gone, it’d been up to Sammy to be the strong one. To weather every question. 

“Things were returning faster, but still… The memories started slowing down at around the six-year mark and now…”

“I’m sorry Sam,” You whispered, unable to think up any words of comfort that wouldn’t just add to the man you considered a brother’s hurt. 

“Don’t be… It’s, hell, this is going to sound kinda mean, but… It’s kind of funny,” Sam gave a choked laugh. A small sad smile replacing earlier worry, though you could still see some pain in his eyes. 

“Funny?” For a second you worried the curse backfiring had led to some unwanted side effects as you gave Sam an incredulous look. 

“I mean, yeah, at first it sucked. Not knowing if he’d get better. But now… He’s not really digging into the future or asking loads of serious questions. He’s just making outdated early 2000s jokes and asking if the Office is still on or if Led Zeppelin has made a comeback,” Sam said, a tired whispered laugh betraying the mixed emotions behind the words. 

“So… Dean knows that he… He knows?” You stopped yourself from vocalising the amnesia. Unable to deal with how just the thought of his forgotten love for you sent sharp shots of pain through your very core.

“Yeah, we told him. I couldn’t just let him be. I mean, he didn’t know who Cas was at first, but I needed to make him understand that he was a friend, and that he’d lost his memories,” Sam said with a shrug. “I just… I didn’t want you to go in there not knowing. He will remember you (Y/N), it’ll just take a little while longer,”

“Thanks Sammy, I’ll be fine… Just knowing he’s healthy and that he’ll be right as rain soon is already enough,” You sighed, steeling your heart for what waited in the motel room at the same time as your body visibly calmed down. The tension that had rested there since you jumped in your car and broke every speed limit to make it to Dean’s side finally gone. 

Sure, it would probably still hurt a bit to see no recognition in Dean’s eyes. Or feel the warmth of his love seeping through you, like you always did when his eyes met yours. But it was only temporary. You were a big girl, and you’d get through this bump in the road as well. No use crying or screaming, it was only a few hours, it wouldn’t hurt… Not too bad at least.

Who were you kidding? 

It would hurt like hell. But it would hurt a lot more not to be by his side. Not when he needed you there. Even if he didn’t know it right now. Even if it wasn’t temporary, you still would’ve stayed. You’d help him make new memories. After all, the best part about your memories was making them with him.

“If you’re sure…” You shook away Sam’s hesitant question with a small shaky smile. Choosing to reach for the door instead of letting him talk you out of it. No, you weren’t sure. Shit, you were basically never sure about anything. As a hunter, over two thirds of your life was uncertainty. But you wouldn’t let that stop you. 

Not when the person on the other side of the door was your Dean Winchester.

Taking a careful breath to swallow the sob that threatened to act as a knock and signal your arrival you let the cold motel doorknob ground you. Mentally preparing yourself to meet his blank eyes head on and wait…

Wait for your Dean to come back home. To come back to you.

Next Part

---

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​

[shirtlesssammy]

4x12: Criss Angel Is a Douchebag

Then:

I always trusted her.

Now:

Let me start by exclaiming Barry Bostwick is in an episode of Supernatural! I often forget because I don’t rewatch this episode that much. I don’t know why. It also has the PI from House and a cool Prestige vibe to it. 

Anyway, Barry Bostwick Jay is trying to impress a young bartender with a neat card trick, but messes up the shuffle. Another magician mocks him from across the bar. A companion admonishes his rudeness. The man is clearly drunk and comes over to ruin the trick.

The bartender tells the guy to “leave the old guy alone.” Oof, Barry Bostwick will never be old. (I weep thinking how old this episode is now!) 

Later, Jay and two companions, Charlie and Vernon, mock a Criss Angel-like illusionist practice his stage performance. (I recognize one of his companions because I watched Fletch in my youth more times than a child should). Jay tells them that this “douchebag” isn’t the joke, they are. They’re washed up old men, and their magic days are behind them. He announces that he’s going to do the Table of Death that night. It’s crazy talk! 

Cut to Jay on stage about to perform the Table of Death. He gets locked into the table and glaces at the spikes above him. AlL iS GoOd! Charlie pulls the curtain and walks off stage to share grim looks with Vernon. 

Drunk Magician leaves the bar, with the warning by his companion that his show is in an hour. A man in a cape need not worry about time! 

The Table of Death is looking more death-y as the seconds tick. Jay struggles to escape his confines. The fuse burns down to the rope. The music escalates. The spikes drop. And Drunk Magician grasps his chest. The curtain is pulled back to reveal a fully intact Jay. He did it! Hurrah! Drunk Magician though? He’s dead on the street, puncture wounds dotting his white tuxedo shirt. No, Barry Bostwick! 

Criss Angel-lite is performing a “demonstration” on the street to onlookers. This is not a trick. It’s a “demonstration about angels and demons.. love and lust..” And that’s it. That’s the story of Supernatural. They’re not trying to trick us guys. Anyway, Dean and Sam approach in their FBI garb. Dean is skeptical but Sam, the nerd’s nerd that he is, knows how the guy is. He’s Jeb Dexter, kinda famous for “douchebaggery”. He does his little trick and the crowd is impressed. 

Dean remembers that Sam went through a faze of liking magic when he was 13. Dean doesn’t understand the appeal of playing the act when there’s actually magic and demons out there. And I ACHE For HIM. AND Sam. Like, Sam was able to indulge in the playing of the supernatural and mystical because of how Dean raised him. Dean didn’t get the chance to play at anything. Bby Dean, you escape into your soap operas and horror movies where the good guy always wins! Take a break. 

They’re in town to investigate Drunk Magician’s Vance’s death. His assistant makes it clear that he wasn’t well liked in the community. Dean asks about weird stuff with him and she shows them the Ten of Swords tarot card. 

Charlie and Jay talk in Jay’s hotel room. Charlie wants to know how Jay pulled off the Table of Death. 

Jay is super pumped about his new super magician powers! He can do amazing card tricks! He’s ready to try the Executioner! That sounds...wise. He’s better than Houdini! Charlie doesn’t want him to do it. He won’t watch Jay die. 

Later, at the venue, Dean interviews Vernon about Vance. Jeb really is a douchebag. He’s interviewing Jim Jay, “a wicked cat that came before [him]”. Vernon used to use the tarot deck in his act, but that’s been years ago now. Dean wonders if he knows anyone that uses the deck now. They send Dean away with a vague “guy down on Bleecker Street” lead. Dean, how can you not see through them!? Anyway, they send him to a place where he’s supposed to ask for “Chief”. 

Dean goes to see “Chief” and is led to a very dark and dreary basement. And he gets to meet “Chief”. 

Ruby show sup at Sam’s door telling him that he’s got to get back into fighting form. The seals are breaking. She tells him he needs to go after Lilith if he wants to stop all this. (Sure, Jan.) If Lucifer rises, “oceans of people” are going to die. Sam needs to start drinking that demon blood again! 

Dean and Sam meet up at the magician show. We overhear Vernon and Charlie discuss talking Jay out of doing his latest trick. Dean calls them out of sending him to the “Chief”. They call him out on being a fake fed. Touche. They cover by saying they’re actually doing research beause they’re aspiring magicians themselves. 

Jay’s act starts. 

Jay gets trussed up in a straight jacket and noose. (Jeb preens in front of his mirror.) He has 60 seconds to escape. The curtain is drawn. His shadow struggles. (Jeb continues to preen. A noose uncoils and snakes it’s way around his ceiling fan.) The time runs out. Jay seemingly falls to his death. (Jeb meets Mr. Rope and dies instead.) Jay’s FINE! Dean is SO impressed (Like, bby is ACTUALLY impressed, sweet child.) Sam has doubts. (Jeb is dead dead dead.)

Back at their motel, Sam and Dean pore over the lore - or at least over Jay’s bio. Once a “big deal” magician, Jay’s slid into obscurity. They’re speculating that the culprit is a death transference spell. “I hope I die before I get old,” Dean says, and I hiss like a cat who has just been dunked in a lake. Sam yearns to live long enough to marry a blurry woman. Dean wants to go out well before the dreaded old age of sixty. “It ends bloody or sad, that’s just the life,” Dean tells him.

I wonder how Dean managed to crystal ball his way into their future with such cutting accuracy. Sam wonders if they go after the head evil honcho, if maybe they can carve out a happy ending for themselves.

At Jeb’s hotel, Dean flashes the latest tarot card to Sam. He speculates that the cards are a way to pinpoint the death transference spell to a particular victim.

Jay returns to his motel room, tailed by The Amazing Winchesters. They confront him with guns drawn and demand that he confess to the magical murders. Jay scoffs. There’s no such thing as magic, dummies! Hitting a wall with their shock confession tactic, they decide to tie Jay up to buy themselves some time. Alas, Jay the magician slips his bonds and escapes. Cops confront the Winchesters in the lobby.

Later, Charlie berates Jay for his reckless stunts in the green room. Jay’s spooked by the Winchesters’ allegations. He reveals that he had intended to kill himself with the table of death trick. Charlie bolsters Jay’s ego, telling him that he’s an incredible magician and that he’s got to TAKE CHANCES and DO THE TRICK. On stage, Jay struggles against his bonds, but once again avoids certain death. Unfortunately, there’s a shriek backstage. Charlie lies dead, punctured on the floor.

Jay springs the Winchesters from jail and meets them at a bar. They theorize that Vernon is running the mojo behind the scenes. While Vernon heads to the stage to meet with Jay, Sam and Dean investigate Vernon’s room.

Jay’s in full accusation mode with Vernon when a young...Charlie appears!

He shed his skin like a snek! Charlie reveals that he’s been alive for a long time. He found a spell for immortality in a spellbook, as one does. Charlie tries to convince them to join the immortal magicians club when the Winchesters burst in.

Charlie tosses a magical rope around Dean’s neck, leaving Sam to menace Charlie with his handgun. Quickly, Charlie gets the upper hand and straps Sam Fucking Winchester under the spikes o’ doom. It’s looking bad for our heroes, when Charlie suddenly gets invisibly stabbed.

Jay stands stoic, with a knife buried in his gut. He took Charlie down by picking the magic tarot deck from his pocket and planting a card on him. As Charlie dies, the Winchesters are released.

Back in the bar later, Jay sadly shuffles cards. He’s lost his magic-boosted skillz. Dean thanks him for killing Charlie. Urf. “Charlie was like my brother. Now he’s dead because I did the right thing,” Jay spits (thematically) before toddling off sadly to head back home.

The Winchesters avoid discussing their feelings. Sam takes a walk and finds Ruby outside. “I’m in,” he tells her. He doesn’t want to still be fighting when he’s an old man.

Abracaquotes:

What’s the price tag on immortality? 

You ain't been had ‘til you been had by the Chief

The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in Magictown, USA

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[younghoax]

If you could rewind to any point in your past and start fresh, which point would you choose and why? What do you hope would be different the second time around?

October 15th, 2011. I’d have said yes.

“—and, oh God, Jord, you should have seen her face. Can’t remember the last time I got to see her on her birthday. She was bloody buzzing. Even after everything, she was just… Dead happy,” Curly’s telling him as he shifts from one leg to the other in the space in front of the couch where Jordan sits. “She misses dad—course she does, but I think it helped, me being there. And then seeing all the family together again... It was mint. Like I never left. I-I’m. Here I am, thinking they wouldn’t pick me out of a sodding line-up, but it was like I’d been there the whole time.”

Jordan’s smile is genuine, leant back into the couch with his arms folded over his chest as he listens. “Good,” he hums. “We’ll save up some cash, a’right? So I can come with you when y’go back.”

He expects it to have Curly nodding like crazy like he does, hair bouncing over his eyes but, instead, the man stops, stammers a bit as he says, “well... I-I’ve been thinking about that. Was gonna say.”

He doesn’t want Jordan there. That’s the first thought that pops into his head. J’ll never fit in at one of those huge family dinners Curly talks about. Always just been himself and his mom – wouldn’t even know how to handle it. He’s already screwed shit up with Curly’s mom, why would they try with his dad’s side of the family? They’ve probably seen pictures of him. Hate him. Well, fuck ‘em. He’s never needed a fucking family, sure as hell doesn’t need Curly’s. If anything, he’s fucking lucky he—

“What if we moved back? Like… What if both of us moved. To Brentwood.”

“W—” It’s the dumbest idea he’s ever heard. Even harder to swallow than the idea of Curly’s family exiling him. He’s got an internship coming up. Got a good enough job for now – just got promoted even, and has college classes a couple times a week. They saw an apartment yesterday, and tomorrow they’re gonna go look at another one just a couple blocks from the bar, above Dean’s uncle’s shop. His internship will be done soon enough and he’ll be making a good buck there. Jordan doesn’t think ahead – why the fuck would he? Life’s thrown enough fucking curveballs. He has this time though, thought ahead, that is, and this ain’t gonna be another one of those times where he paves the way, then gets dragged off the track. All these reasons have a hell of a lot to do with him though, and very little to concern Curly. Except for the pure fact that he fuckin’ wants him here with him.

“Your mom, Curls,” is the reasoning he settles with. Curly moved all this fucking way for her in the first place, after all. “She’ll be alone.”

Curly just shrugs, clearly already carried away with the idea. “She’s got Dom. My grandparents, too. She dun’t need me here anymore. Not like Gee does.”

Of course. He always agonised over the possibility of his little sister drifting away. Of course it’s about Genie. J had expected their first meeting in a couple years to hit home. Have Curls cleaning up his act, saving some money for more trips… He hadn’t considered that Curly would be thinking about a permanent move. For just one, sickening moment, Jordan wonders if this is a case of them choosing between Jordan’s future and Curly’s family, or more a case of Curly choosing between his family, and… Well, Jordan.

Fuck it—fuck that. There's no fucking question here - because what's Curly gonna do in England? Go back to working at that coffee shop? Get fired because he's always off his face or off sick and dresses like he just came from a fucking rave every day of his life? Keep selling his drugs and stop seeing his family anyway because he can't look them in the eye any more than he can his fucking mother’s? Fuck that. They're staying right here-- both of them.

“Curls, no, we can’t. We got shit happenin’ here. I can’t go. I got that internship thing – think it’s gonna work out for me, a’right? And that apartment we’re gonna see… Curl’s it’s… Fuckin’ perfect. We got each other. I ain’t got family on the doorstep neither and I’m alright, yeah?” He has a hand around the man’s wrist then, tugging him down until he’s perched on the edge of the coffee table. “Brockton’s home. We ain’t leaving.”

Curly just stops though, picking at the skin around his nails as he breathes deeply in thought. He leans forward, elbow on his knee and chin in his hand, fingers curled to cover his mouth like he always does. It’s muffled by his hand as he says, so quietly that some of the words get caught in his throat, “I aren’t happy anymore, J.”

“What?” J scoffs, chews on his lip as he considers this. “Sure you are.” Or, he will be. Can’t be expected to feel happy again already – two weeks since his dad’s funeral. “Y’got me, ‘ight? Of course we’re fuckin’ happy,” Jordan insists and he tries to laugh because God, what a dumb fucking thing to say. He ain’t happy? He’s mourning. “We got each other. We’re sweet.”

“Can you think about it?” 

“I mean.” Jordan searches for the words. Fuck, he ain’t moving to fucking England when he’s this close to having his shit together here. “No, doll. M’sorry but.” J shrugs. “I ain’t doin’ it. Couple weeks and you’ll be glad I said no, a’ight?”

He never did tell Jordan he wasn’t happy after that. Easy enough to assume he was, then. The relapse that followed was the worse J had ever seen.

We’da gone to Brentwood, he’d have worked his ass off at that coffee shop and I’d get an internship some place else. Make some honest cash, probably crash at his dad’s place ‘til we can afford our own. Get him some help that we don’t need to worry about affording. Free healthcare and all that. Sounds boring as shit but we’ll be happy.

Would have been, I mean.