#and yet dean literally says he had to be father and mother

[zmediaoutlet]

Hi there, happy (Wincest) Wednesday. We know that when Sam and Dean were kids, they were frequently left alone while John was away, with Dean put in a more direct parental/caretaking role. So I wonder: do you have theories or headcanons about these times when Dean was left in charge? What do you think that was like for them? Thanks!

hello happy wincest everyday --

yeah, the "Dean as substitute dad and mom" thing is one of many that are absolutely wild in the canon of this show. It's soooo good that we only see a few moments of it in flashback (I know there are some fans who wish for like a whole 'prequel' show, but... they're wrong, haha, it's never a good idea to strip out mystery in favor of overexplaining and inevitably fucking up via bad retcons) -- and the moments we see are great, because they don't actually show "Dean as parent", because he's not a parent.

Important to remember that their age difference is only 4ish years. This isn't, like, 17 year old Dean dandling Sam on his knee, as some fics and meta kind of imply. This is one little boy forced to watch out for another little boy, but he's still a little boy. The parentification is particularly fucked up for this reason -- because of course, he still has to make food and he still has to be John's spouse-at-home and he still has to manage everything, but he's, like, 12. Would you let a 12 year old do that and expect it to go perfectly? If you were 8, would you call your 12 year old brother "dad"? No, you'd tell him he smelled like boogers and he'd noogie you in response and you'd try to wrestle him and then your face would get shoved into his armpit and you'd get told yeah? what does that smell like, huh? that smell like boogers? until you cried uncle. Because you're two boys.

Which, obviously, makes the times that Dean actually has to act as a clumsy parent all the sadder. He's just not equipped for it. This is maybe at its most poignant in the Christmas flashback, where he's flipflopping back and forth between big brother and attempted parent at high speed. He really wants to be able to comfort Sam when he's sad but he doesn't have the tools, and how could he. Similarly in the high school flashback (where I guess they're ~15 and 19 and Dean's just really too old to be at that school), when he's looking out for Sam and tries to go overprotective, but Sam shuts it down immediately and Dean has to settle, because -- is he a shouty big brother, or kind of a parent? Is he meant to beat up a bully on Sam's behalf, or talk him through dealing with it himself, or just listen to Sam's feelings on the matter? There's never an obvious choice because the roles are so blurred, and Dean really did his best but there's just no winning.

Really, it's remarkable that Dean and Sam keep liking each other after all this... disaster. They had pretty standard brother bickering and 90% of the time it's that brotherly vibe. Sam's resentful but he mostly keeps the resentment where it belongs (with John); Dean, more remarkably, doesn't seem to be resentful of being forced into that position (again, 90% of the time), I guess because he just genuinely likes Sam and likes hanging out with him and views the failures he had as parent as his own problem (and, when he's a little more emotionally solid, realizes that the blame for that also lies with John, as well as destiny et al).

The other thing that makes their relationship work, clearly, is also that Sam does not view Dean as 'parental'. He talks back and doesn't do what Dean tells him to do and understands the dynamic very well. He doesn't have two "bosses", and is intrinsically bossy himself, and is honestly amazing at maintaining a sense of solid independent identity even as an 8 year old. So I guess, with all that babbling, my headcanon (based firmly in actual canon) is -- Dean was 'in charge', and took that seriously, but it was an unstable and maybe confusing and sometimes very scary thing from his POV; and Sam never felt like that was 100% true in any case, and so from Sam's POV it was the case that they were both abandoned by John, and so Dean never really counted as 'parent' at all. Which is really cool. Characters with mismatched perspectives on the same event lead to great stories.

[hobiespick]

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you’re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

[ananke-xiii]

Maybe they titled it “Tombstone” because that’s when s13 stopped making sense.

Or: how the “Jack made Cas see Paradise” beat was dumped on Kelly and how Jack is very much like Fleabag because “No one’s asked me a question in 45 minutes”.

I wish I could share in the general excitement surrounding this episode but, to me, its “feel-good” energy is too much of a foreboding for the rest to come that I’m like, nooooo, I can’t take iiiiiittt. After this episode the season completely derails: Castiel’s character doesn’t make sense anymore, Sam and Dean go back and forth in a plot that’s a joke and Jack… where’s Jack? Do we still have a character named Jack? Ah, yes, here he is, maybe I see him.

In the second scene of the episode we have on one side of the room Jack and Dean, the two characters who are very much emotional because of Cas’ return.

Jack is super tender when he approaches Cas and tells him that he missed him. He’s also super zealous to show his father that he’s been learning to master his powers (he can move a pencil!) and that he has gathered enough knowledge about the family business to find a case, a hunter’s case. His purpose in this episode is to demonstrate to his father that he fits in, that he’s good. 

Dean’s also in high spirits and it’s because of Cas’ return as well but the reason is, of course, different. Clearly, he doesn’t have anything to prove to him but he’s euphoric about his “win”. He was literally dead not even 24h prior when he was desperate for an anchor that would reconnect him with meaning and reality. Well, not any anchor. He specifically needed Castiel because, unlike with his mother, Dean didn’t get to have any reconciliation with Cas in s12.

CASTIEL: I don't... What are you doing here? DEAN: Saving your ass. SAM: You and Kelly just taking off was a stupid move. But there's no way we're letting Lucifer get his hands on that kid. It ain't happening. DEAN: Look, Sam's right, okay? We'll work through our crap. We always do. But right now, we are here to get you, get Kelly, and get gone.

Narrator’s voice: they’ll never work through their “crap”. Sigh.

On the other side of the room we have Castiel, who’s fresh off the Empty and looks like he could use a day or two of rest, and Sam, who’s mentally trying to figure out if it was Jack who resurrected Castiel and how he can apply this knowledge to saving Mary. Both Cas and Sam are the ones who are, if not downright contrary, not particularly over the moon by the prospect of working a case.

The tragedy is that both Jack and Dean are so happy about it that it almost feels like they can all forget about the fact that they had to burn Cas but now he's here, that Dean had thoughtlessly run towards death 2 seconds before and that Jack very much doesn’t know yet how to control his powers. In other words, this scene forecasts disaster.

This episode also marks Cas’ first attempt at parenting Jack and it goes both well and disastrously bad for him. Now, parenting is a fucking hard job consisting of infinite responsibilities, one of which is saying no and setting boundaries. This is how Cas starts parenting Jack.

The good news for Cas is that he seems to instinctively predict Jack’s actions, thus knowing when it’s time to say “no”. The slightly bad news is that Jack doesn’t listen to him. And, I mean, this totally makes sense because 1. Jack’s all happy and energized about “his” case; 2. he’s very eager to show off what he has learnt; 3. this is his first chance with his father, it’s like a clean slate for him and he really wants to pass the exam with a “good” stamped on his forehead.

Three times Cas tells Jack “No” and three times Jack disobeys.

The first time is when Jack wants to wake up Dean to tell him about the police update and Cas tells him that he “wouldn’t do that”. Jack, however, would very much want to and so he finds himself face to face with Dean’s gun. Things will get very bad.

The second time Cas tells Jack “No” is when they’re outside the bank and Cas tells Jack to stay where he is but Jack tells him that he’s “got this”. Which he doesn’t because he accidentally kills the security guard.

The third and final time that Cas tells Jack “No” is before he disappears from the bunker. He does it anyway.

Now this might sound strange but, so far, Cas hasn’t done that bad. This is the super-secret that SPN doesn’t want you to know but disobeying the father is actually not that big of a deal, rather it’s quite healthy and it also makes sense for Jack because he’s known his chosen father for maybe less than two days. Their relationship has just started and they need to find their own balance. What’s more important here is the fact that Cas can foresee and understand Jack’s actions, which is a victory for everybody because so far in the season he’s the only one who’s been able to do that.

What he totally fails at is, unfortunately, trying to understand who Jack is. Sam, Dean and Cas have their own (different) opinion about who Jack is and they all hold tight to their beliefs. One thing that always struck me is that nobody asks Jack any question. For me this means that nobody is trying to understand him, they're not curious enough to want to get to know someone like Jack.

Jack is good or evil or special and that's it. And "that's it" because Sam, Dean and Cas see him that way but there isn’t much communication going on in that damn bunker. For instance, when Cas comes back he tells Jack that Sam and Dean have told him that he’s doing well. I don’t want to say it’s a lie but it’s a lie. Nobody is doing well since May 18th. Jack agrees but promptly changes the subject by showing him the pencil trick. This is deflection 101.

One thing that Sam and Cas have in common, though, is that their idea of Jack is strictly dependent on what they think about Kelly and I can’t help but grimace because of it.

Sam, for completely unknown reasons, thinks Kelly was a “good” person, therefore Jack must have a good, perhaps “stronger” side in him that can win over Lucifer’s evilness. Leaving aside for a moment that this a backward, problematic view of maternity, Sam can’t possibly know if Kelly was a good person or not because the two maybe talked to each other one or two times and both times weren’t particularly meaningful moments for either of them. Not saying Kelly wasn’t a good person, just underlining that Sam’s beliefs about Jack are based on his own assumptions bearing zero evidence of reality and founded on outdated notions about maternity.

Cas, on the other hand, thinks Kelly believed that Jack would change the world for the better and so he does too. The thing is, though, if we look back at s12 it’s not Kelly who thought that her son would change the world, it’s Castiel. Kelly thought that she was part of a plan, that she and Cas were destined for something great. She wasn’t the one who had the vision of the future, Castiel had. We have to consider two things here: what Kelly meant by “something great” and Cas’ utopic vision that we don’t see.

I’ve said it many times and I’ll say it again: not even one writer was interested in giving Kelly a little bit of backstory so that we could have an insight on how she is as, you know, a Real Character. As far as motherhood (the sole defining trait of her character) is concerned, we know she wanted to do the “baby thing” with the President and that she had always dreamt about being a mother.

What we do know for sure, however, is that she was a pregnant woman who: was sexually assaulted, abducted, forced to suddenly understand and comply with the supernatural world’s dynamics, abducted again, chained, had committed suicide, had been resurrected, was abducted again, was intimidated by two strangers to get into their car to go to an underground bunker so that they could perform whatever the hell Sam planned to do on her. So, I ask, maybe, just maybe, is it possible to view her behavior and her words in “The Future” as those of someone who probably had all the rights to be on the verge of a mental breakdown? They could’ve framed her “fanaticism” re: Jack's birth as, perhaps, a way to cope with the living hell she was subjected to during her pregnancy. To give meaning to what was happening to her. Regardless of the framing, the show makes a point to tell us that she first and then Cas, Kelly thought, were the ones destined for something great. The writers compared her to Rosemary (from the movie/book "Rosemary's Baby"), like, three times. I hoped that it was a way to signal the abuse she had to endure but I don't think it's the case, sadly.

This is a part of Kelly and Cas’ dialogue in “The Future” that I particularly hate:

Kelly: Maybe. Or maybe it was a miracle. Maybe – maybe everything that I've been through, everything that I still have to go through, is happening for a reason. Maybe it's part of some plan. Castiel: No, it isn't. I used to believe in a plan. I used to believe that I had some mission. But I have been through enough now to know that everyone is just winging it. Some of us quite badly. Lucifer, he's just breaking toys. He's sowing destruction and chaos, and there is no grand purpose at work. And there's no special role for you. When Lucifer took over Rooney's body, I'm sorry. You were just there.

While I understand that Castiel here is more speaking about himself than about Kelly and he, as well, is very well much on the verge of a menty b, I find it so utterly unfair to tell her that she was “just there”.

First of all, NO, if anything, Lucifer was “just there”, she was where she had her right to be, doing her job, sleeping with her partner, talking about her dreams, living her life. That was her life and it was destroyed in an instant, it was only human that she needed a way to make sense of what she was going through. Pregnancy is already a nightmare and, on top of that, she had to go through all that?

And second of all, she literally came back to life after suicide, how couldn’t she not start behaving weirdly? I know the writers were writing Supernatural were Death has only value for characters without any “special role” in the narrative, but come on, they literally just wrote a character telling another character that she has slit her wrists and this is the reply she gets: you’re not special, what happened to you was because you were just there. Brrrrrrrr.

But let’s move to my second point.

Let’s talk about Castiel’s vision. Because, you see, we think that Jack manipulated him but how do we really know it? Yes, there’s that cut scene but it was cut nevertheless and it’s crucial that we don’t see it because, by not seeing it, we can’t really know for sure if Jack had manipulated Cas for real.

Let’s compare it with what Kelly sees when Jack sends her “visions of the future” and what we see: Kelly sees what will happen next in the episode. Period. We see the same thing. Period. No mention of destiny, just the future in the very sense of “what’s going to happen in the next few hours”. She, like us, doesn’t know what Jack has supposedly made Cas see. We know she hasn’t seen anything because in “All Along the Watchtower” we have this little scene here:

KELLY: Tell me again. Tell me again what you saw. CASTIEL: Right, I saw– I saw... I saw the future. I saw a world without pain or hunger or want. I saw the world that this child... that your child... KELLY: Mm. CASTIEL: ...will create. KELLY: Mm. CASTIEL: And it is a world without fear and without suffering and without hate. KELLY: Mm. CASTIEL: I saw paradise.

So the one who was in love with the idea of Jack’s special destiny was not Kelly but Cas.

This is why this dialogue from “Tombstone” seems suspicious to me:

CASTIEL: Yeah, I know she is. Kelly was… She was a very brave woman. JACK: She left me a message. She said I had an angel watching over me. CASTIEL [sighs]: Jack, I'm so sorry. I-I should've been here for you. JACK: No. It's okay. It's just… I understand why she trusted you. Why I trusted you. CASTIEL: You remember that? JACK: I remember feeling… safe. CASTIEL: Jack, your mother, she believed that you would do amazing things. She said that you would change the world for the better. And now, looking at you, talking to you, I know that she was right, that we were right. Kelly would be so proud of you.

I think that the reason why we don’t see Cas’ vision in s12 is because the show wanted to do something with it in s13. It might be the case, what with all the talk about how “Paradise on earth” the Original World seems to be compared to Apocalypse World in s13. I mean, these are just my speculations but it could be. Because, as a matter of fact, Cas’ vision of Jack’s future is dropped in favor of Kelly’s vision of Jack’s future and this… actually never happens?

What we know , though, is that Kelly tells Jack the following in “Patience”:

Kelly: Jack, don’t let anyone tell you who you’re supposed to be. Because who you’re supposed to be isn’t fate, it isn’t me, it isn’t your father. You are who you choose to be. And I know you’re going to okay. You are going to be amazing. You have an angel watching over you.

She’s telling Jack that who he is isn’t fate, that he can choose who he wants to be. I mean, there’s definitely something off going on here.

Maybe they just dropped Cas’ “I saw the future” beat (that was presented as what convinced Cas to save Jack) on Kelly because, by the time the writers started planning s13, they decided that they weren’t gonna use it anymore? I don’t know, what I’m saying, though, is that Kelly was more focused on her kid being good rather than evil as everybody assumed, whereas it was Cas who “saw” Jack change the world for the better. But we don’t see what Cas sees so we have to take his and Dean’s word for it. And both words seem to be pretty biased. At any rate, something doesn’t add up in between s12 and s13.

So, to recap: what we have seen is that Kelly has never actually said that her son would do great things, but that she believed that her son would be good. It was Castiel who believed that Jack would create great things in the future because of a vision neither us nor Kelly have ever seen. Even if we consider the cut scene it still doesn’t account for the difference between Kelly’s and Cas’ visions and/or why Kelly didn’t see what Cas saw.

Another person that underlies the “to be vs to do” dilemma is Mia Vallens where in “The Big Empty” she shapeshifts into Kelly:

JACK: Sam thinks you were right, that—that I’m good. He wants me to believe it, and I wanna believe it, too. It’s just, I… I’ve hurt people. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. And I know I should feel bad, and I say I feel bad, but most of the time, I mostly… I don’t feel anything. And that’s why I think maybe… Maybe I’m a monster. MIA/KELLY: Jack. It doesn’t matter what you are. It matters what you do. And even monsters can do good in this world. JACK: You really believe that? MIA/KELLY: I have to. I have to.

First of all, Mia is telling Jack that he’s a monster, lol. And she literally doesn’t know he’s a Nephilim so WTF? Anyway, the things are two: either the writers were drunk when they wrote this (Jack: “I’ve hurt people, I think I’m a monster” Mia: “It doesn’t matter what you are, only what you do”. MIA, ffs, THIS IS WHAT HE HAS JUST TOLD YOU, HELLO????? HELLO???? He’s just told you that he has done something that makes him think he’s a monster, how do you not see how your advice is shit?) or, more probably, they blatantly wanted to remind us that the person who’s speaking is not Kelly but a shapeshifter who tries to do good things to atone for her past crimes. She has to believe that because of her own past, not Jack, not Kelly, Mia.

What’s more, Jack saying he doesn’t feel anything… doesn’t really mean he doesn’t feel anything. Since he was born he’s been living with two men obsessing over “good and evil”, two concepts he still clearly and rightfully doesn’t understand because nobody is explaining him shit. How is he supposed to know? Of course he’s confused as to how or what he should feel.

For example, by the end of “Tombstone” Jack is evidently confused and ashamed. He feels shame because he has “failed” in front of his father, his “failure” resulted in the death of an innocent man and, what’s more, Sam, Cas and Dean are talking about him in the other room like he’s just proven that he’ll never be good. Excluding and talking about someone when this someone is feeling shame is, like, the worst response ever.

No wonder the episode ends like this:

SAM: Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's… it's not easy. And we've all done things we regret. JACK: Just don't. You're afraid of me. CASTIEL: Jack, no. JACK: No, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just another monster. DEAN: No, you're not. I thought you were. I did. But… Like Sam said, we've all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you're a monster, we're all monsters. JACK: No, you don't… Every time I try and do something good, people get hurt. I thought I was getting better. I'm not… I don't know what I am, but I know I can't make the world a better place, not like this. I can't even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I'm gonna hurt you. All of you. And… I can't. You're all I have.

My heart aches a little at the words “You’re all I have” because they have all failed him so much and he literally doesn’t have anyone else.

Also, Jack echoing of Cas’ words “She said that you would change the world for the better” resembles what Chuck told Sam and Dean in s11 and that Dean paraphrases in his prayer to him: “You said the earth would be fine because it had me… and it had Sam” discarding them as false (can’t shake the feeling that they wanted to go somewhere with that “Paradise on earth” crap).

All Jack has has unfortunately failed him: Sam has failed him with his training mentality that bore no fruit and made Jack think that he had value only if he succeeded; Dean has failed him because he both threatened to kill him and provided “shelter” for him putting Jack in the position of basically having to live with his possible executioner (we know Dean wouldn’t eventually do it but the point is that Jack doesn’t and Dean’s threats deeply, deeply affect him).

Cas was the only one who could have had a real shot with Jack but he arrived tooo lateeee! And he (understandably) came back with his own package of preconceived ideas, ideas that made it all worse because Cas didn't know that Jack was noooot doing well! I hate SPN, why would they do this to meeeee?

Of course Jack would eventually run away. Perhaps the major takeaway from all this is that he did way better on his own than with the three of them. And that says a lot.

[aliusfrater]

it's really interesting that in 14.01, when dean does not have an active role within the patriarchal structure of the narrative because his autonomy is being violated and he has been unwillingly removed, the narrative does not assign his position to anyone else.

unlike season one, in which dean is demoted from any kind of upper-patriatchal inclination whenever john resumes an active/sure position in their lives, not even sam is given as explicit of a patriarchal role as dean's despite the fact that he is quite literally offered it and he is, logically, next in line both in terms of the cycle of abuse as well as the familial structure. the apocalypse world refugees willingly refer to him as their leader and call him chief, they do what he says and they trust him almost unwaveringly but it is a role he has explicitly shrugged—he doesn't want to be called chief and he isn't around a lot of the time to 'command' them because he's out looking for the patriarch: dean.

sam's explicit rejection of this patriarchal role can even be seen throughout the episode: he makes avid attempts at reconnecting with ('mothering') jack after being apart from him for more than half of the previous season while consoling him about his lost grace (while bobby does the adoptive 'fathering', the toughening up) and he is the one who nurses nick back to better health; these are all indications of the perpetuation of the non-role that he has occupied before and that had only been accentuated through sam and dean's adoption of jack.

the way cas and sam's, as well as mary and sam's relationship operates is very indicative of the vacant (yet paused) role of the patriarch hanging over their heads; there have been so many instances over the seasons in which these characters are capable of having a relationship that does not revolve around dean or his absence, but this is only possible when his presence is a guarantee or there has been a more explicit removal of either party from the other. their relationship now revolves around dean—if they are having a one-on-one conversation, it's about dean like some kind of remixed bechdel test which furthers the idea that dean does indeed hold the current crested patriarchal position within the narrative. sam cannot take dean's role because that role is still dean's; the narrative has left the space open almost as a kind of foreshadowing that dean will return to take it and it is sam, cas and mary's responsibility that he be returned to it.

i think this points to the foundational crux of sam's character that is the explicit otherness that he exists to represent in terms of both the familial dynamic that was john-dean-sam and later the hunting dichotomy of 'hunter vs monster/us vs them' that are both continuously related to each other perpetuated within his patriatchal non-role. there's a layer of liminality here that aims to explore the dynamic that sam and dean have now that dean is absent: not only does sam's otherness that is encapsulated within his non-role with dean keep him properly tethered to The Life that they fight with and against together but the patriarchal structure and dynamic they have together vs the world cannot exist without dean.

[queenhellwitch]

I'm so sick of writing this essay every day.

It WAS out of character, but it was written, so you have to find Sam's truth in it, as Jared once said. Everyone goes straight to, "well, Dean was ANGRY that Sam didn't look for him, so Sam was WRONG TO CHOOSE TO DO THAT." Do we honestly think that Sam stood there in that lab, wide-eyed and hyperventilating in front of Crowley and his taunting, thinking "Well damn, Dean's gone, I'm going to CHOOSE not to look for him." Not being facetious, because he might've done (it is, after all, the rational choice considering all the harm to creation they've caused as a team (and that's also kind of the truth Sam offers to Dean, when he later tries and fails to explain it to him).

So *was* it a conscious plan to offhandedly abandon his brother? I think not. Because we're shown throughout the seasons that Sam is usually such an analytical, practical person, and insanely single-minded and vengeful when it comes to saving Dean - even in the direst of straits, Sammy keeps his head; hits the lore, solves the problem. In character, he would've found out he was in Purgatory, he would've summoned Death and begged him for another random eclipse (another of which, by the way, had already been outright refused).

So why does nobody ever offer Sam grace and consider *why was he out of character?* It's because he was reeling. He'd lost everyone he'd ever loved, he was still absolutely swamped by guilt, head swimming with Hell trauma that had nearly killed him. He was running on fumes already at the end of season 7. He had no Bunker at that point, no comfort, no Bobby anymore. The angels were d1cks. No demons would make a deal. All he had left, and all he could do, was go back to the car. "I fixed up the Impala, and I drove." The scenes where he hit the dog, he was absolutely frantic. Reminded again how much pain and destruction he causes. Amelia was a lifeline, an (unhappy imo) accident - she just happened. He wasn't chasing happiness, or a normal life at that point. Just running.

So thoughts of Dean, the Life, Kevin, everything unfinished would come back and poke at his brain... At that point, do you stay hiding, buried, living in a motel, clinging to someone who makes you a birthday cake, fixing sinks, not being traumatised, abandoned, hospitalised, killed? Or do you give yourself an shake and say "c'mon Sam, stand up and find your brother, have the audacity to insert yourself back into a world where your *very existence* killed him, made his life hell, made his death literal hell, killed your own mother, father, the love of your life, millions of others, caused apocalypse, destroyed Kevin's life, got *his* girlfriend killed...

He, of course, can't say all that to Dean. How can he?

"we promised we weren't going to look for each other" - it's easier - prove it was a rational choice. "I met a girl and decided not to hunt anymore" - ok, Dean will be angry, but Dean's anger is usual, normal, and easier to deal with than facing Dean's disappointment in Sam's unravelling.

I might be overanalysing and giving him too much credit. But he deserves it and this is a Sam-positive post. And if you watch the scene with Cas and Sam in the cartoon world in Hunteri Heroici, you can *see* it. His ranting at Fred about living in a dream world isn't about Fred. It's all about his own anger at himself, taking on board yet more guilt, because he can never do anything right. He's more than out of character. He's an absolute mess.

[murkyspace]

well I hope you liked those AUs, because here’s two more that I’ve had on the backburner for months. I’ve had no motivation to write for these, despite the fact that I really like the concepts:

“Showstopper”

- Instead of banishing him, Juno rents out Beetlejuice to other demons and humans who’ve found the tools to summon him, forced to do nothing but take orders for centuries.

- When he’s not on the job, he’s forced to wear a collar that drains him of his magic before he has a chance to use it. Think of it like an inverse spiked collar, with a bunch of little syringe-like pricks going into his neck. Wearing it for so long’s left a scar that’s kind of like a dotted line along his neck.

- Anyways, the plot happens when he’s summoned by Otho, and what seems like a routine call turns into a plan to trick his mom in giving him his freedom.

- Surprise! It’s a partially Otho-centric fic, because honestly, I feel like he’s a little underutilized. In this AU, he’s still a con man, but he’s invested a lot into his studies of the supernatural

- Spoilers, it works, and the two enter a partnership. Beej gets sanctity in the living world and a new afterlife to call his own, and Otho gets the world’s best special effects for his new traveling stage show. After he’s free, Beej usually covers the scars around his neck with a scarf or bandana

- Enter Lydia. At this point, her home situation is father, daughter, and Delia, and she’s having absolutely none of it. Delia’s still a life coach, but she���s more of a fan of Otho’s than a disciple. So, naturally, she feels that one of the best ways to cheer Lydia up is to take her to see one of his shows, and Charles is too exhausted and desperate to argue.

-Lydia hates the performance, but she immediately notices the uncredited stage crew behind the curtain. After sneaking backstage, she meets Beej, who’s being kept inside a steamer trunk surrounded by salt while Otho addresses the paparazzi. The two of them strike up a deal of their own: she calls him out in her house, and he scares the shit out of Charles and Delia

-Shenanigans involving Beej literally being in two places at once ensue, Otho finds out and is initially hurt that Beej went behind his back, but scaring with Lyds helped him realize that only existing as a stage trick wasn’t much of a step up from his previous cage. Long story short, Beej and Otho make a new agreement, and Lydia ends up with the world’s weirdest internship.

- From there, Beej and Otho are Lydia’s honorary gay uncles with no kids who spoil her during the holidays. (yeah there might be BJ x Otho stuff in here, because next to nobody writes that ship. Nothing sexual onscreen, though)

“Bold Departure”

- Not sugarcoating it, Juno just straight up mauls her son and leaves him for dead (metaphorically) on Saturn.

- Except, it’s the actual planet Saturn. He’s found by astronauts who take him back to Earth. He’s pretty much 2 weeks from fading from existence, so through the magicy-science of the future, his essence is converted into code and he’s given a shiny new robot body with a whole bunch of bells and whistles that work pretty much like his old tricks.

- He’s also given the new name Betelgeuse. The name also acts as a safety function, saying it three times locks him out of his more dangerous toys.

- Hundreds of years later, when a scouting expedition ship lands on a distant planet, Lydia finds the signal of a dusty robot in a striped suit using the last memento her mother gave her before her disappearance.

-I do have some plot for this, but it’s very spoiler-heavy, so I’ll share some of the planned roles for the characters.

- Charles is the main organizer and captain of the vessel (that I haven’t named yet). He works under Maxie Dean and mainly makes voyages to trade with nearby civilizations or scout out desolate planets.

- Lydia’s either a stowaway or here for work experience. She still has her passion for photography and morbid curiosity, and is super interested to see what the other reaches of space have to say about the abstract and weird. She never goes anywhere without her camera and a little tamagotchi-like device. The latter of which is the last gift from her mom. (She also puts Beej in it when she’s travelling around because the last thing she wants her dad to know about is her new nasty murder robo-BFFFF)

- Adam and Barbara are mechanics on the ship, they’re not really high-ranking, mostly relegated to maintenance and checking gauges and fuel. Together, they’re the best at fixing up mobile robot units, though, so they are the first people Lydia reveals her new killing machine to. After the initial shock of “oh god I didn’t even know something could hold that many sharp things” wears off, they find out that Beej is a pretty good conversationalist when he’s not making passes at them or cracking jokes darker than coal. He does his best to play wingman to the both of them, since it’s obvious they like each other and haven’t said anything yet. Who knows, maybe he could get in on that action?

if you guys liked any of the ones I posted here, I’ll be happy to drop lil breadcrumbs of headcanons or non-spoilery plot, maybe even chapters when I get to working on ‘em.

[whateverthedragonswant]

What an interesting little part of the scene I never noticed before.

John says "Hey Dean" but nothing to Mary or Sam. Of course Dean runs to his dad. "Daddy!" (so cute btw)

John picks him up and teases, asking Dean if he thinks Sam is ready to throw a football around or not yet. To which Dean tells him "No, Daddy".

John playfully agrees and Mary passes by, smiling, asking John if he's got him. John's eyes never leave her until she walks out of his eyeline and then Dean puts his head on John's shoulder, while John says "I've got him", his eyes immediately landing on Sam.

"Sweet dreams, Sam" John says to Sam from the doorway and we see Sam turn his eyes onto John. John then walks out of the room, carrying Dean, and turning the light off.

Here's why this is so interesting and what kills me about it:

When the scene starts, Mary has Dean in her arms, turns the light on, and pays attention to both boys, telling Dean "come on, let's say goodnight to your brother" even though Sam was still in his crib. Dean and Mary both kiss Sam goodnight on the forehead.

This blocking (and editing) speaks volumes, especially when you consider what happens later in this season, this story even.

John has no idea about anything hunting related or who Sam will become at this point in time, what will happen to Mary -- none of it. But here in this one sequence, Kripke and Nutter gave you the beginning of the very complex/complicated Winchester family dynamics.

In these few seconds we get:

Mary -> light, close with both boys, bringing Dean to Sam

John -> dark, only close to Dean, taking Dean away

John never taking his eyes off Mary until she's out of eyesight - in love/loves her

"I've got him" John's eyes go to Sam

And then we remember:

Mary becomes the fantasy mother figure for Dean and Sam; everything went to pot once she died & they were forced into this hunting life/war; in this scene she's the parent, encouraging Dean to say goodnight to his brother, not asking him anything about Sam

John becomes the authoritarian father and is consumed by his quest for revenge; when Sam goes to college, Dean stays with John & John relies on him heavily as he has since Dean was a kid (2x01 hospital monologue scene)

John needs revenge for Mary's death, wants to kill YED/Azazel

John doesn't have Sam when the boys' story kicks off when he's in college; later in 2x01, John lays the burden on Dean's shoulders to try to save Sam from going bad or he'd have to kill him

I'm not trying to suggest that Kripke had the first five seasons all planned out or even what John ends up telling Dean in 2x01. I'm not trying to suggest that anyone involved with the pilot knew if it would actually get picked up. But considering this moment and the way it was blocked, the performances, the edits -- this sets up that Winchester family dynamic before shit even hits the fan, and it links to the rest of the season beautifully.

John's reaction to Sam is so diametrically opposed to his reaction to Dean and Mary. And we see this play out later on when John comes back and how Dean is in the middle, both literally and figuratively (just like Dean in this scene is in between John and baby Sam).

And that's just some good fucking writing (and acting/directing) right there.

[meatmandean]

jensen ackles' roles rated by their daddy issues (part 2)

jason teague (smallville)- 7/10 his dad cut him off and he did not have a good relationship with him at all. he only got a 7 though because he had MUCH bigger mommy issues.

jake gray (devour)- 10/10 he had a tense relationship with his adoptive father who was played by jensen's real life father. the layers there alone would give him a high score but then we also find out that jake's girlfriend is actually his biological mother who is actually satan. i don't know if that would make satan his mother or his father but nevertheless i think that gives him a perfect score.

boaz priestly (ten inch hero)- 8/10 if i remember correctly, he directly says something negative about his father at some point in the movie. but even if he doesn't, it shouldn't matter. the man has a dyed mohawk, multiple piercings, and regularly wears eyeliner. he hates his father for sure.

tom hanniger (my bloody valentine)- 7.5/10 he was estranged from his father but i'll be honest tom had some much bigger issues going on than just the daddy variety. that definitely took a back seat here.

jason todd (batman: under the red hood)- 9.5/10 his adoptive father is batman and he grows up to be a murderer and a crime boss out of resentment. you do the math. .5 deducted cuz i didn't get to physically see jensen cry about this.

dean winchester (supernatural)- 20/10 literally no character has ever been more defined by their daddy issues than dean winchester. literally everything he does can be traced back to his relationship with his father. he is the blueprint for characters with daddy issues.

bruce wayne (batman: the long halloween)- 4/10 i feel like batman SHOULD have more daddy issues but really he's just sad his parents are dead. which could count, i suppose. he had alfred as a positive father figure, though, so i think his bigger issues are everything else about him.

beau arlen (big sky)- 5/10 barely know this man yet but i'm giving him a preemptive half score because it's a safe bet this old fashioned texas cop man will have a few issues with his father.

soldier boy (the boys)- 10/10 jensen and kripke combine forces again to not only make this character HAVE daddy issues but we also actively got to watch him GIVE homelander brand new daddy issues for the first time! great work guys, thank you so much.

(part one)

[excaliburssword]

Crack theory on Aric's dad (obviously contains spoilers) (part 1??)

Like said in the title, this I gonna be absolute chaos, and literally some of it (maybe all of it) might not make any literal sense.

As the SGE bookworms out there know, in book 6 when Sophie, Bettina, etc. were walking in that one wizard tree scene with all of those "flowers", one of them had urged Sophie to open it up, and as a reward, it would reveal who Aric's father was.

From that moment on, something automatically clicked that his father may actually be a big part in the plot of the series, since Soman can't possibly be stupid enough to just throw that question in out of no where.

It'll probably be revealed who it actually is further on in the Rise series, but I'm trying to collaborate why out of all people, Soman chose Hook to be one of the main character(ish) in the book.

It could be because it was later revealed that he was Hort's father, or it was just because Soman wanted some angsty tension between Rafal and Rhian.

I really don't know why yet, (it's 1am and I haven't read the series in a while, so feel free to cringe behind your scenes if I state something wrong all of a sudden), but he's obviously going to be developed as a character further on in Rise.

Aric's appearance and background

It was stated that Aric's eyes are (were *wink, wink*) a lethal violent tint, and he has spiky "raven-black" hair along with pale skin, all in reference to Lady Lesso's appearance too, so he obviously adapted her looks.

It's also explained how he grew up in Bloodbrook, which may I remind you, where Hort grew up in (is that where some pirates were too, or was that just Neverland? Cause if there were some pirates in Bloodbrook, that can also be more proof that Hook was Aric's father too *sorry, again I haven't read it in a long time*) 😅

I'm not saying that just because he grew up in Bloodbrook, it automatically turns him into Hort's step-sibling, because that's literally like saying Anadil and Hort can be SibLIngS too.

(Totally irrelevant, but Hort also had "Raven-black" hair. Prob one of the least important points that link back to Aric, but oh well, it's better than nothing).

Ever-never handbook hints

In the "frequently asked questions" chapter, there's literally a question of Dovey answering to literally "who was Aric's father?"

She answered with "a hulking, well-muscled man" had apparently come to the School's gates, asking for Lady Lesso, to which the Dean had refused to see him right after Dovey explained his appearance.

At the end, it said something like "he's out there in the Woods alive, just waiting," or something similar.

Seriously, Soman, how obvious are you willing to make it for the readers that we all already know his dad as a character, just not who he exactly is yet?...

Aric's relationship with Rafal

Sometimes I wonder how the hell these two came to be BudDiEs fOrevEr during book 3.

Was it because Rafal liked watching Aric pick on his mother as "revenge", or because he knew who his father was, and they had an unstable-but-okayish-sort-of-friendship in the past. (Maybe it did refer to why Rafal gave Aric the becoming the second dean, and I just don't remember lmao).

And besides, apparently those two even conspired to create uniforms together according to the Ever Never Hand Book💀

How on Earth can Rafal be "close" to the son of a woman we all saw he was annoyed at?

Linking back to my two points above, it was either because they bonded over the love of talking sh about Aric's poor mother, or Rafal knew who Aric's dad was all along.

And thus brings an end to this exceedingly long theory (remember, it's supposed to be chaotic, and I'm probably 90% wrong, but you never know...)

I'm tired asf right now, and it's exactly 1:39am now, (it really took me 39 minutes to write all of this, and it probably has errors everywhere, but oh well).

[literatigifs]

anonymous asked: You know the most baffling thing about seeing Jess hate in the tags is when you immediately find out that the same people that hate him as a character and love Logan or Christopher or Dean then say something like "sure, Jess had it rough, but that is no excuse for how he behaved!" and yet they seem, completely fine?? With how the rest of the men in this series behaved?

I gave up on going into the main tags for this exact same reason because once one of them starts complaining, an entire league just picks up the pace and you get the same old points be regurgitated by the same 3 people over and over again. It's just boring at this point, like they spend so much time obsessively hating Jess and yet they can't even make up new reasons for it? I know that going as far as saying shit like "he probably sold meth as crystal candy to underage toddlers in New York in order to make some money in season 5" takes a lot of creativity but if you can't beat that, then your obsession with this character seems pretty pointless lmao.

And it's always the same with their reasons for liking Logan and Dean or preferring them, too! There's literally zero substance or interesting takes being given about these characters from their fans and it's so baffling to see at times?? Like the reason I love Jess is because his familial relationships, and even his ongoing connection with Rory are ripe for analyzing and talking about. I would extend this favor to Logan to a point because while his rich boy background is overwhelmingly generic (emotionally absent father who drinks habitually and cheats on his wife, mother who is a nervous wreck and the stereotypical wife of a rich man who married him for his money), there's still some aspects you could lean into and even dissect like how his destructive tendencies can be easily paralleled to his father's behavior AND to their relationship with each other. But again, nothing is done with this by his fans! They just repeat the same shit over and over again about how Logan was "the most perfect husband material to ever exist", despite the fact that there's various red flags given throughout the series even in season 7 where he goes back to his old habits and doesn't even communicate with Rory properly before he abruptly proposes, then ditches her. If they would at least admit that the so-called "ignorant writing choices" are also part of a larger pattern with his character and embraced his faults I'd get it, but they don't?

The same thing goes for Dean's fans. Dean has frankly nothing to credit him as being an interesting character because he practically exists to be Rory's first boyfriend (and then first experience in being the other woman 🥴). Every other relationship we see him in like with Lindsay, Luke or even Lorelai border on embarrassing to incredibly frustrating and negative, given how Dean seems to be completely fine with demeaning Luke's relationship with Lorelai because of his own personal history, or freely taking part in an affair despite being married to Lindsay. Like, he literally gives Lindsay more consideration only AFTER he has cheated on her and publicly humiliated her with that fact. I'm truly confused as to how Jess antis go on to say that even Dean was better than him when he willingly ruined his marriage with an affair by sleeping with Rory, an act that neither Jess or Rory ever did when she was with Dean. Last time I checked, Rory didn't try to sleep with Jess multiple times in season 3. And of course his fans just vaguely say they don't support that before then going on their 500th tirade about how Rory, an average high-schooler who's only dated one guy in her 17 year life by that point, had the audacity to develop a crush on a guy who liked her back and just wanted to spend time talking to her. Their reasons are frankly predictable at this point and honestly for all their complaining about Jess fans, the ones I see in the tags don't come off this obnoxious and holier-than-thou as they do.

[jessmmariano]

Re: the selling meth part, yeah I remember this one Logan fan who in response to a Jess fan that was talking about his development in season 6, said something like "well we don't exactly know what he was doing in season 5, for all we know he may have been selling meth in New York to young kids". I think that same person wrote this weird fic where they have Jess be pushed around by the townspeople of Stars Hollow and Mrs Kim ends up punching him? Some Logan fans in particular are So Weird with their hatred towards him, like I can understand hating him as a character, but to obsess over him to the point where you write fanfiction about him getting physically beaten is bizarre.

The part about "Logan having a rough childhood" excuse is hysterical to me because the same excuses they give Logan actually count for Jess more than him. Jess had a rougher childhood, he was thrown out by his own mother and taken to his uncle whom he had never had a proper familial relationship with purely because his mother didn't want to deal with him anymore. By season 3 Jess ended up begging his father for a place to sleep because he was homeless. Logan never had to worry about any of that, regardless of how neglectful Mitchum is towards him as a father. The same goes for the "first relationship" excuse, like Rory also seemed to be Jess's first serious relationship too yet Jess knew that he didn't want Rory to cheat on him with Dean unless she was clearly broken up with him, and when that happened he broke up with Shane before pursuing anything with Rory? Logan frankly gets no excuse for not knowing the simple rules on how to not cheat or at least not lie about not cheating.

That is such an unhinged theory and it’s not even grounded in reality. We have no evidence that Jess would ever do that, why the hell did their mind jump to that? Jess has seen first hand what substance abuse does to a person (Liz), why would he want kids to go through that?

Also Jess was always respectful to Mrs. Kim as well so that makes literally no sense. He was also friendly with Lane, too.

Logan stans will make a million excuses for him and then offer Jess absolutely no grace at all. They will simultaneously say things like, “Logan had a rough childhood, it’s not his fault he’s rude 🥺” and also, “Jess having a bad childhood doesn’t excuse his actions.” Pick an argument and stick to it, you can’t pick and choose when your logic applies to things.

“Logan had never had a relationship before therefore he didn’t know not to cheat,” cannot coexist with, “Jess should’ve been able to communicate better and treat Rory better even if he’d never been in a serious relationship.”

[winchest09]

When You Know - Chapter Nine

Pairing: Daddy!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 3854

Summary: Dean Winchester is a family man. He is happily married, living with his wife and their only daughter; Adeline. They are his entire world. So when his little girl comes bursting through the door unhappy, and convinced she will never find love again, his reassurance inadvertently takes them both on a trip down his memory lane. All in a bid to convince her that when it’s real, you’ll know.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fluff, literally tooth rotting fluff, daddy dean and daughter cuteness, playful times, more serious relationship times. [SPOILERS] TW: Pregnancy.

A/N: Just another load of fluffy fluffness for January. I hope you enjoy this latest add! I also want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful @deanwanddamons​​ for being my wonderful beta, and for kicking my ass where needed. __________________________

Series now complete on Patreon! __________________________ When You Know Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Let me know your thoughts!

A high pitched squeal sounded from the side of Dean and he had to playfully cover his ears. His daughter was wearing a wide grin as he beamed at her father, the popcorn between them long forgotten as she hung off of his every word. He had to admit, he was still proud of his proposal to this day and wouldn’t change a thing about it. In his mind, it wasn’t over the top romantic or extravagant, it just felt right for him. The bookstore was a special place in both of their lives, and even after their engagement, it was still a location that was the source of many more happy memories. Ones that he had not yet shared with Adeline, and he would, but only if she wanted to hear them of course.

“Dad, seriously, that proposal was everything,” she spoke excitedly, her cheeks a little red from how hard she had been smiling. “I never thought in a million years that it would have been something like that.”

“What did you expect?” Dean chuckled, genuinely curious at what Addy had running through her head.

“Like you might have taken her back to the Italian place where you got to know where or that you did it here, in the house,” she explained, her happy expression never wavering as she looked into her fathers eyes.

“To be honest, if your mother’s store hadn’t been such a pivotal part of our relationship, who knows where it might have been. Or even if our story would have played out the same. Everything happens for a reason, kiddo,” he said with sincerity, reaching his hand into the popcorn bowl to grab a good amount. “Although I will admit, your mom did make a quip about how she was glad I hadn’t set fire to the books.”

Adeline laughed, her head thrown back against the arm of the sofa as she looked up to the ceiling, “Yeah, that sounds like her alright.”

“She actually went around and blew the candles out not too long after she said yes, worried that something would happen,” Dean added, joining in with his daughter's merriment as he popped some of the sweet treat into his mouth. “Every now and again she’ll bring it up and remind me to keep all works of fiction away from an open flame.”

That made Addy laugh even harder, her sandy hair shaking due to the way her shoulders were moving with her joy. He knew it was because what he had explained was something she had witnessed on quite a few occasions. Whether Dean was trying to light the ones at the dinner table, or around the living room at Christmas time, Y/N was always quick to come out with a quip that had him playfully rolling his eyes. He wouldn’t change it though, because it was part of the story that made them them.

Eventually, the laughter died down and Adeline moved herself around on the sofa, reaching forward to grab the can of soda from the coffee table and placing her other hand in the bowl full of popcorn next to her. Dean could see that she was thinking, her green eyes glancing around the room and they stopped on the picture of him and his wife on their wedding day. It was one of his favorite photos, Y/N smiling at him as he dipped her slightly, her veil floating on the gentle breeze that was present that day. The photographer had captured them perfectly.

“So,  I know you got married in September, but did it take you long to plan it?” his daughter queried, looking over to her right at her father before she took a long swig from the can in her grasp.

“Not really.” Dean shook his head, his fingers coming to scratch at his stubble as he thought back to that time. “Your grandparents gave us some money they had saved for us and so did your other Nanna. Then, topped with our own funds, we managed to get married the following year.”

They were lucky, incredibly so, and it was something he wouldn’t forget for the rest of his days. They never asked for a single penny, but once they had agreed on a set date, his parents had presented him with a check and so had his mother-in-law. It meant that they could still work on their home and neither of them had to work themselves into the ground; he would forever be grateful for that and it was something he and Y/N was doing for Addy, although she was completely unaware. He wanted her to feel the same relief that they had when her time came.

“What was it like, were you nervous?” Adeleine enquired, causing him to be pulled out of his wandering thoughts.

“The wedding day?” he asked, and she nodded, leaning back into her seat, her knees up against her chest as she slowly placed pieces of popcorn into her mouth. “Yeah, I was a little bit, but your mom planned it all perfectly. We got hitched in this rustic little venue called The Ashes not too far out of town. It sat on some country land, and we exchanged our vows inside a renovated barn. It was beautiful, exactly how we wanted it.”

“From the pictures I’ve seen, like that one–” she pointed towards the photo that her eyes had landed on earlier, “--it looked really pretty.”

“It was,” he agreed, a grin starting to appear on his features as he stared at the frame. “When the doors opened and your mom walked down the aisle towards me, I swear my heart stopped. She was just so radiant.”

“Did you cry?” The question was laced with a playful tease, her elbow nudging his side a little as she leaned over and Dean let a low rumble escape his chest.

“No–” he shook his head, glancing back at his daughter, “-- but I did have tears in my eyes. It wasn’t until much later that I got emotional.”

It was the truth. There were a few occasions where he felt a lump in his throat; saying I do, his brother's speech, seeing her so happy. The list was honestly endless, but the moment that had a tear falling from his eye wasn’t until they were alone in their cabin,  just the two of them. He was sure that Y/N must have told Adeleine this piece of information, knowing that there was no way in hell that this story hadn’t come up in the twenty years of her existence, but he went along with it; just in case.

“What at? Your vows? The speech? The first dance?” Addy pushed, her hand going straight back into the popcorn bowl as she looked at him with excitement. It reminded him of the times when she was a little girl and either he or Y/N would read to her the stories of princesses and daring sword fights. Whenever they finished a chapter, it was always met with that same look, the one that pleaded with them to continue and to not end it there.

“Oh they were emotional, but no,” he started to explain, clearing his throat a little as the moment he was thinking of still got him choked up. “It was after we left the party to go to our room.”

“Why?” she pressed, a little frown pulling at her brows as she gently continued. “What happened?”

“Well…”

September 17th, 2005

It was a Saturday, and the night was clear, the weather slightly cool as the newlyweds walked the grounds of The Ashes. The sound of music blaring from the speakers of the venue hall was bleeding out into the silence of the grounds, the hum of the beat only giving a faint recognition of what track could be playing. Above them, the stars twinkled against their dark blue bed, the moon casting a pearl glow over the couple as they strolled lazily, hand in hand, towards the cabin they would share on their first night as husband and wife.

In Y/N’s other hand were her heels, her fingers hooked through the straps as she carried them, her feet too sore from standing in them for most of the day. She had been quite happy towards the end of the night to dance barefoot, not paying any mind to the carpeted floor beneath her. Yet, when she realised she had to walk outside to get to their accommodation for the evening, she realised she needed to put them back on. With a whine of discontent, she analysed the distance and basically threw caution into the wind and opted to stay ‘shoe free’ but that was something Dean wouldn’t allow, fearing she might cut her soles and get hurt. So, being the gentleman his mother had raised him to be, he firstly offered her a piggyback, but once she declined, the next best thing was to offer her his brogues. She looked at him like he had just offered her the moon, tears in her eyes at the gesture. He didn’t wait for her to say yes. Instead, he just slipped them off to reveal his black socks before helping his wife to step into them. The mechanic wasn’t too phased about walking on the stones, knowing that his skin was somewhat protected and that it hadn’t rained for a few days; he was just happy that his girl wasn’t in pain.

“I can’t believe you’re Mrs Winchester now,” he spoke softly out into the night air, his smile as warm as his heart as he looked down to the woman that was next to him, the sequins on her white dress twinkling when they caught the light just right.

“Me either,” she beamed, turning to gaze up at him, her lace veil resting softly against her silk like hair. Dean wanted to capture that moment and store it in his memory forever. The way she looked; she was so radiant, so elegant, so undeniably perfect that he had to pinch himself just to ensure that this was still all real, that he wasn’t dreaming. He was convinced he was going to wake up in his old apartment, his annoying alarm blaring at him to get up and start another day's work. But that rude interruption didn’t come, she was still there, and he had never felt so happy.

“You look so beautiful,” he admitted, stepping back slightly to take in what she was wearing once again. Her chosen attire wasn’t too over the top, it was just like her. It fitted her body flawlessly, the sweetheart neckline giving him a peak of what was underneath, the locket he had bought her their first christmas resting against her chest, while the train behind her wasn’t too long.  “I never want you to take this dress off.”

“You sure about that?” she smiled coyly, her teeth coming to bite into the corner of her lip and his eyebrows automatically hit his hairline.

“Well, no,” he breathed, his own grin pulling at his cheeks as he thought about exactly what he wanted to do to her in the privacy of their own room. But still, a compliment was a compliment and by the way she was looking at him, with color in her cheeks and a knowing look in her eye, he knew that she appreciated it.

“Today has been perfect,” Y/N spoke softly, the side of her head coming to rest against his arm as they walked. “Thank you,”

To this, Dean was confused. She was the one that had planned the majority of the day, she was the one that had crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s. “What for, sweetheart?”

“The most wonderful wedding,” she sighed contently, watching as her dress flowed easily over the stones below her with each step she took in his brogues. “For putting up with my worries, my doubts, my obsessive need to have everything how I had envisioned it.”

To that, he stopped them from walking and turned to face her, his finger reaching up to tuck away some of the free stray hairs that had fallen in front of her face. “Most of this was you. All I did was show up in my suit, write a killer speech and wait at the end of the aisle. I love you, Y/N,” he told her with sincerity, dipping his head to kiss the end of her nose. “Always will, even if you break down in tears when the florist doesn't have the right colored lilies.”

“Ugh, see that makes me sound crazy!” she scoffed, playfully slapping his shirt covered chest as he turned around, starting to walk once again in the direction of their room.

“No, not crazy,” he chuckled low, smiling when he saw their cabin was in sight. “You just wanted our day to be what it has been. Flawless,”

“You make everything sound so much better,” Y/N professed, a little whine in her tone before masking it with a small laugh.

“Well, it’s my job as a husband.” Dean’s reply was smooth, and he knew it but his girl didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she only held onto him tighter, a genuine grin pulling at her lips as they reached their destination.

“I like the sound of that.” On wavering tiptoes, she kissed his cheek as he fumbled about in his pocket for the key to their door.

Once located, it didn’t take him long to open up the barrier and hold out his arms to wait for his wife. Of course, she looked at him questionably but when he told her it was tradition to be carried over the threshold, she just threw her head back in amused laughter. Yet, she did as she was told. She positioned herself just right, his strong hands hooking themselves around her body before he hoisted her up and close to him, and walked through the open entrance. They both fumbled as they attempted to find the lightswitch, Y/N reaching out for the wall and blindly stumbling in the dark until they located the small gold switch that brought them the glow that would highlight that path. With a quick flick, the room was illuminated and Dean moved forward to place her delicately on the bed.

He took that moment to just look at her as she leaned back on the mattress, her veil spread out onto the covers, her dress still hugging her frame. He didn't have any idea on how he had become this lucky, how this beautiful woman in front of him was now his wife.  The mechanic kept thinking that maybe, in a previous life, he must have done something so wonderful to be worthy of her love, because in this one, he couldn't fathom what on earth he had done to deserve her. Three years she had been by his side; being his greatest supporter, giving him the confidence to believe in his own goals and achievements, making him feel as though he could do absolutely anything. And now, he had sworn that for the rest of his days on this earth, he would be the one to protect her, to love her and to give her a life that was the best that he could offer.

He kneeled down and helped her kick off his brogues, a little joyous laugh escaping her as she did, before he placed them neatly against the side table, thinking about how he would give up anything of his to ensure that Y/N was comfortable and happy for as long as they were together. It was then that he was reminded of the present he’d had custom made for this day, and he thought that now was the perfect time to present her with it. So, turning in his spot, he briefly glanced around the room and hoped that his best man, Sam, had placed the item in an obvious space. Thankfully, his brother had done just that, and left it resting against the wall next to the dresser, the red bow bright even in the romantically lit space.

“Now I know that tradition states that we’re meant to give gifts on the morning of the day but I wanted to do it now,” Dean spoke softly, his low timbre resonating throughout the room as he walked over and picked the item up, his hands firmly grasped around the long rectangle, before he handed it over to his wife, sitting down softly next to her. She looked at him in awe, her face full of gratitude as she slowly started to undo the wrapping.

When the paper had been peeled aside, a small gasp passed her lips and she realised just what she was looking at. There, in her grasp, was the chart of the stars for the exact time and location of their first kiss, their engagement and their wedding. He had often found her in their backyard, looking up to the small flickering balls of light and she had expressed a few times just how beautiful she thought they were, so when he saw an advertisement for this, he knew it would be the perfect gift to purchase for her.

“Dean this is…” she started, her eyes welling up with tears as she glanced over the constellations, “I love it so much, thank you.” She brought it into her chest before she leaned over and placed a soft kiss to his lips, catching him slightly off guard before she pulled back, once again looking at the item in her hands. “This is going in our hall, right next to the living room door.”

“It’s not–” he started, worrying that maybe he hadn’t done enough, the small little insecure niggle eating away at his thoughts and presenting him with a cloud of doubt but his wife was quick to interrupt.

“--it’s perfect, and really thoughtful.” Her forefinger rested upon his mouth and he couldn’t help but press a small kiss against the skin.  “I have something for you too.”

Dean didn’t have time to respond before she was standing, her veil slowly sliding off the mattress as it followed her around to her side of the bed. It was there that she opened her small overnight case that Jess had positioned so conveniently, the sound of the zipper echoing around the space as his wife searched around for whatever it was she was looking for.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” the mechanic mumbled, already feeling his heart swell at the idea that she had been thinking of him too. It was silly, really. Having been together for over three years, any other man would have been used to this by now, but not Dean. No, he was still overwhelmed with every single small gesture from this amazing soul he had just married.

“Well, consider this a surprise then,” she chuckled softly before standing straight, a small rectangle box clutched in her grasp.

She quickly made her way back to him, passing over the gift before she sat enthusiastically next to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. There was a rainbow colored ribbon wrapped around the black container, and he softly pulled at it with his fingers, watching as the material knot delicately came undone. With a small flip in his stomach, and with a firm hold on the item, he lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful, brand new Suunto watch.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his fingers caressing the glass as he looked down at it with awe. He couldn’t believe she had spent the money on him for this. It was one of the more expensive models, one he had been looking at getting for a while but put off because of funds for the wedding and the house.

“Take it out,” she whispered into his ear, and he gladly followed  her instruction, wanting to pop it onto his wrist as soon as possible.

Yet, once his fingers had wrapped around the strap, he noticed something white resting underneath and a small frown etched into his brow. Quickly pulling the watch aside, he could have sworn he had forgotten how to take in air, his heart stopping for a few seconds as a new reality dawned on him. There, resting in the foam of the rectangle box Y/N had given him, was a positive pregnancy test.

“W-wha-ar-are you…” Dean stammered, not able to string together a sentence as he looked over to his wife, with wide green-eyes. Come on, brain! Words, use them!

“Uh huh,” she grinned, her smile pulling her lips wide as she leaned back a little.

They had talked about having children all the time, and it was something that they both definitely planned on doing but of course, not this early. They had always been careful, even at the times when they were both very much distracted by the lust filled haze that descended over the pair of them. But now he was staring at that little positive word, he knew in his heart, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Wh-when? I mean h-how?” he continued to stutter, his mind finally catching up as the shock dissipated just a little.

“I took it yesterday morning, and the how I don’t think I need to explain,” she chuckled, her hand absentmindedly coming to rest on her stomach.  “I think I caught the night we spent downstairs in front of the fire.”

His eyes landed on her fingers, the way they were so delicately already rubbing back and forth; he couldn’t stop the tears that formed. Almost immediately, he fell to his knees in front of her, the box forgotten as his large palms covered hers on her tummy. He craned his neck to catch her lips in a sweet and loving kiss, one that was a fumble because he was just so overwhelmed with love and emotion to think straight. He was going to be a dad, he had created a life inside of the woman who held his entire heart. He remembered the night she was talking about, and it was the one where the condom had split but they paid it no mind, thinking it had happened when Dean was cleaning up. Obviously not.

“I love you so much,” he spoke endearingly, his words laced with all the sentiment he could muster. It was then, however, that he panicked and pulled back, not wanting to cause the baby and his wife any stress through this current position.  That’s when he turned his attention to her stomach, his nose nudging the lace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss there. “And this little one in here, we’ll give them the best life possible.”

“Are you ready for this next adventure?” Y/N asked him, her hands carding through his hair as she looked down at her husband, his focus still on the non existent bump under her dress.

“With you, I’m ready for anything.”

——————————————– Chapter Ten ——————————————– A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed chapter nine! Thanks so, so much for reading. Let me know what you think if you have the time <3 Tag list is open! If you want to be tagged, then let me know HERE :)

Tags will be separate <3

[casmick-consequences]

Cas&Dean VS Claire&Jack

So I wrote [a small little theory] a while ago as to why I think Claire and Jack wouldn’t have been shown on screen together/have any connection throughout the show on-screen/off-screen at all. And so here I will some points as to why I think that is. 

AKA here’s the long awaited essay/conspiracy theory y’all have been asking for.

First of all; let me start off by saying this is 100% meant as a joke (no it’s not) and it’s not to be taken seriously (yes it is) as it’s literally just a dumb theory (it definitely isn’t). And second; fuck the C*W for contributing to every little bit of tinhatting this fandom (especially us hellers) has succumbed to.

-

Now; for this theory we have to understand a few things:

How Dean and Cas work as individuals

How Claire and Jack work as individuals

How Dean and Cas work as a duo

Let’s start with the first two things.

How Dean and Cas work as individuals

Dean Winchester is a masculine, tough but loving hunter. He cultivates a “bad-boy personality”, and makes sarcastic jokes at even the most morbid times. Underneath, though, he's become hardened by life as a warrior (as Daddy’s blunt instrument, if you will). He’s been taught to fight his father’s battles, and protect the ones he loves and cares for. But soon began to see that neither of his parents (especially his dad) did the job they were given when they had children. He didn’t just have to be a brother; he had to be a father and mother. He’s had to grow walls around him to stay strong for his little brother, but over time, after making a family for himself, it became easier to tear those walls down. However, he has his weak spots and is an emotional and loving human being through and through.

Castiel, the Angel of Thursday, is an angel of the Lord. He’s lived for aeons, and as an angel has (just like Dean) been taught to fight the battles of his creator and father. He’s a warrior, and he’s been given the job to follow the orders of said creator. Only for those orders to be thrown out the window once he meets Dean Winchester. The man who showed him that hate and anger isn’t always the true answer and that you can choose to be good. Everything that he has been taught slowly breaks away as his hard exterior crumbles, and he develops into a being with emotions, as he slowly but eventually learns to love and care for this man, and with that; humanity.

How Claire and Jack work as individuals

Claire Novak, a woman who has lead a tragic life, where she lost both her parents early on. Her father said yes to be the (permanent) vessel of an Angel, and her mother just disappeared after dropping her off to her Grandmother. After the grandmother had passed away, she was left alone. She had to fight through the world on her own, as she put a wall around herself to make herself stronger for the people around her. It took a while before she found her place in a loving family filled with strong women, who didn’t just help bring her walls down, but build a home instead.

Jack Kline is an innocent, naive but loving Nephilim. The son of the human Kelly Kline and the archangel Lucifer. He was destined for evil, as a Nephilim is one of the most powerful creatures in existence. But, with the help of his three Godfathers (heh), he learns that he doesn’t have to be evil. He can be whatever he wants to be. Controlling his powers has been hard, but no matter what happened, his mindset never changed as he grew to love the people and love the things around him. His biological father saw his power, but his chosen father saw his kind soul. Castiel believed he could create paradise, and he did, as he became the God that the universe deserved.

There are alot of parallels between Dean/Claire and Jack/Cas that can be compared to here. Let me show you a few:

So we’ve established that with Claire being Dean-coded, and Jack being Cas-coded, there could’ve definitely been potential for a cute Claire/Jack dynamic in the show. Why wouldn’t they have done that, you think? Perhaps this question can be answered when we look at thing number 3:

How Dean and Cas work as a duo

Destiel is the relationship between the hunter Dean and the angel Castiel. Castiel was ordered by God to free him from Hell, and afterwards he was supposed to do as he was told while Dean was supposed to figure out how to “stop the apocalypse” which happened to be a bunch of garbo afterwards knowing what we know now. Nonetheless, Castiel didn’t listen, as he quickly grew fond of the hunter and, because of him, developed a sense of emotion and free will. This lead to Castiel helping Dean throughout the Apocalypse, and beyond, and they’ve been best friends ever since.

There have been MULTIPLE essays on Tumblr about how this relationship works, and it would be silly of me to try and summarize stuff that hasn’t been said a million times already. But basically; What they have is quite a bit more than best friendship. It has been confirmed in 15x18, Despair, that Castiel has been in love with Dean for quite some time, as Dean’s own feelings are kind of all over the place. Nothing has been confirmed, yet nothing has been denied. But, seeing as all the insane things Dean has done for/because of/regarding Castiel... for instance:

defended his behavior to his brother and father when neither trusted him in season 6

kept his trenchcoat when he “died” in season 7, and keeping it with him in the trunk of his car(s) for the entirety of Castiel’s absence.

absolutely despises angels, and hates praying, yet he only ever prays to Castiel when he needs anything because he’s the only one he trusts

couldn’t get his mind of of him when he was possessed by Lucifer, and later taken by Amara in season 11

Has Castiel being referred to as his Colette by Cain (subtext but not really subtext because it was so incredibly obvious)

was supposed to be completely enamored by Amara and was supposed to be so hypnotizingly attracted to her that he couldn’t focus on anything else, yet he called out for Castiel’s name when it came down to it (aka the equivalent of calling out someone else’s name during sex) 

keeps looking at him like that

acted like a grieving widow when Castiel died in season 13

gets down on his knees to pray to, cry for and apologize to Castiel in Purgatory when there’s millions of creatures hunting his ass

...it’s easy to say that this is more than just a “brotherly friendship” between the two. There is dialogue that would NOT have worked between Sam/Cas because it would’ve felt weird. I wonder why.

So now to get back on topic; why is it that we’ve never seen Claire and Jack on screen together?

Is it because the writers didn’t have time to put them together in any given scenario whatsoever? Is it because the writers didn’t care enough for Claire to give her some more airtime with the boys? 

Or is it perhaps that if there was a possibility that they’d be on screen together, that they’d have a very similar (if not the same) connection to one another as Dean and Cas, only written as an actual little brother/big sister friendship dynamic?

-

So yes, TL;DR: the actual reason that Claire and Jack never met is because they would’ve had the exact same dynamic as Dean and Cas, but in this case platonic. Which would’ve meant that the audience would’ve seen a clear difference between the Dean/Cas dynamic and Claire/Jack dynamic, and it would’ve shown that the way they’ve been writing and directing the Dean/Cas scenes is romantic.

thank you very much, and I bid thee a very good night. <3

[jockpoetry]

supernatural sees women as a tool for development and strengthening of narratives/motivation and dean sees his body as a tool. is that anything?

When I saw this ask I really made the 🥴in real life. So, yeah anon, I do think there’s something to this.

Quick Disclaimer before I actually launch into my thoughts™: A lot of my read of Dean stems from my experience as both an oldest daughter and a transman. Being the oldest daughter was an experience I lived for many years, but I am also a man. I wasn’t raised as a man, I wasn’t socialized as a man, and even though once I came out upon reflection my masculinity was obviously there. Like I was a man™ before I knew I was a man. Even when I actively tied my identity to femininity for a long time! A lot of my prideful moments were based around statements like: “I was the only girl who (fill in the blank).” 

So I am just putting that out there before I launch into my spiel about Dean/Gender/Tool because they all interlock for me. 

I am also going to apologize in advance because I know this has fully gone off the rails and I’m not even done writing it yet. If this is incomprehensible ! Well, happens to the best of us.

First off, most importantly I guess before we discuss womanhood and Dean and the way both are utilized on the show I need to say that I personally don’t subscribe the whole Dean is female coded thing. 

It’s a read I can absolutely understand. But for me..he’s not. 

He’s a hypermasculine man to the point that when (and because he is written as a punchline, as the stupid™ brother, as the whore™, as the mother/father™, as daddy’s blunt instrument™, etc) Dean deviates from the pre-accepted definition of hypermasculine it’s Wrong. 

It’s Instantly Feminine. 

I think the internet has made the world very black and white, or blue and pink maybe. This point, I think, colors a lot of these discussions. Dean cooks, he cleans and so therefor he’s female coded. When that really just feeds back into the whole toxic masculinity loop. You can’t be masculine and cook and clean and cry. That’s for feminine people only. 

I get the argument! I do, I just think that Dean’s actions are not inherently feminine, it’s just in the vacuum of Female and in the Absence of Traditional Masculinity it makes sense to assign him female coded and move on.

IN FACT the way that Dean is the action hero of the show, the Masculine™ one on the show - but he cries, and he rages, and he cooks (Again and Again) and cleans (Again and Again). The fact he’s macho and confident but he has so little self esteem. Is frankly insane to me. You have this blaze of glory character who is so depressed that they have him kill himself. Twice. In explicitly “I hate myself, I hate hearing all the things I hate about myself, I want to destroy myself” ways. 

On just a regular ol’ network show that is just ungodly bad at times. They let their Male Hero cry - all the time (if I linked every example of this the essay would be...longer than it already is, but just take my word for it). Dean tears up and grieves and shows more than just Angry Horny Violent™ (he shows plenty of that, don’t get me wrong) but he’s Emotional (Again and Again and Again). In many different ways!

I mean, beyond even just tearing up, they make their Male Hero™ face sexual violence in pretty, uniquely horrifying - and queer! - ways.

Let’s make it clear, they did a lot of this unintentionally. 

Or they do it as a joke. 

Off of dean for a moment to say women are plot devices in this show. I could probably count on one hand female characters who have sincere depth to them that have roles outside of progressing plot, filling a filler episode, and who are still alive. Like even characters such as Charlie who are wholly developed, and interesting, are only remembered/mentioned/utilized to progress plots or fill an episode out - and then she dies. For pain™ for plot™ for no other reason than to traumatize a character. 

Which let’s also make it clear Dean’s trauma is also only used as a plot device (as is Sam’s but in a different way, and Cas’ trauma is a whole other barrel of fish we’re not gonna dive into right now). Like wholesale full stop they don’t actually care about what happened to him. Unless it’s relevant in an episode. 

Oh that boys home he was left at when he was 16 for months? Sure we’ll sprinkle that in in the back half of the series. Oh he was covered in bruises and said it was from a hunt (when it’s clear contextually they were from his father but saying the fantastical but true is easier than saying the uncomfortable but true). As Dean says though the story became the story, he was sixteen. He just went along with what John said.

We only see Dean ever truly rage at John, by the way, when either Dean is dead (when he’s between life and death and he rages at John, right before John “apologizes” for traumatizing him, for putting too much on Dean’s shoulders, and fucking dying) or John is dead (the Djinn episode where Dean is straight™ and John is dead™ and he goes to his grave and just yells and rages like he should have to his father in the real world).

Dean’s trauma from being both tortured and torturer in hell? Yeah, we don’t talk about that after it’s Relevant™. Even though it’s clear - especially in the demon!dean, mark of cain era, all those years later - Alastair still has his hooks inside of Dean. I stopped watching originally after s8 ended. I was fed up with the show, and with this whole renaissance I’ve been doing a rewatch and I’m into season twelve now and it really has never come up again. 

Even when he had the mark of cain and he was tasked with questioning and accused of torturing it was “the mark has changed you” and not “you were victim and victimizer in hell for forty years, which is longer than you’ve been alive on earth” (and, was about as long as he wound up living. Which is desperately sad.

Because we talk about Sam’s desire for a “normal” life but, Dean wanted out too. He was tired in the first few seasons of this show, he never had a chance to taste freedom (we don’t count the boys home, because that was a different kind of regimented life, and it was a false freedom) the way that Sam did in Flagstaff with Bones or at Stanford with Jessica. Love for Dean is sacrificing, it’s putting himself/his happiness/his well-being last.

Because Dean only knows love in the context of violence (like all of these fun examples, for starters) is a phrase that I’ve said a lot both in private chats and on here, and I absolutely think it goes to him being a tool (a blunt instrument, a plot device, so both textually and metatextually) instead of a person. Which Cas sees Dean’s shame/guilt and sees that side of Dean because he touched his soul, and saw more than just the Righteous™ man, more than just the tool, he saw A good man, not a machine. 

On the other side though you have how “bad guys” view Dean: Desperate, Sloppy, Needy, Dean’s hole (Again), which is again so wildly counterintuitive to the story of a Macho Man Hero™. You’re using vocabulary that is both queering him and feminizing (and I know this a meme format, but sincerely it is done in a derogatory way it is feminizing. It’s breaking him down to bare parts, to a sloppy hole). 

My whole rewatch I have been absolutely fascinated by how identity and free will is utilized/conceptualized on this show. Castiel has been my main focus, but Dean and how he is framed by himself and others is...fascinating - and frustrating. The writers inconsistency lends itself not only to this unintentionally queer character, but also one that again is incredibly easily read as a non-traditionally masculine character.

As a feminine character.

This show has so few female characters that of course it had to foist the roles/behaviors/plots that a female character might have onto a male character. Which I think is part of why reading Dean as trans (either transmasc, or transfemme) is so easily done like.   

Half of these are shit posts, but you can find trans allegories/textual evidence in this show again, again, again, again, and again. And this is unintentional, they don’t want you to look at Dean and see woman, former future or present. Like a lot of these I’m sure are punchlines for them, because women/queer folk are punchlines to them. 

Sometimes the only women in an episode are random witnesses who get two sentences of dialogue, and then the main guest character is a man. Who flirts with Dean, and Dean is receptive to it. 

They paint themselves into a corner, there are female Rabbi. So easily could Aaron have been a woman instead of a man, but they made the choice to play up the HaHa Dean & Men card. 

Because, again, Dean has filled the slot of Woman™ of Female Lead™ and the flirting would’ve been straight if Dean was a woman. It’s a plot device, they needed to have the guest character be disarming, be cute, make the main character flustered. 

It’s just the main character is a man, because they’re allergic to women. But they still need those female plots, tools of femininity, to move their show forward. I mean I am a big subscriber to transmasc Jo (no idea if anyone else is with me on this one, but let me explain). Jo is in love with Dean (concept) not Dean (actuality). Which, we’ve all had our eggs cracked by someone like that. We were in love with them until we realized we just wanted to be them.

He loved her like a little sister, she loved him like a lost idol. He’s a golden calf and she dies for him, because she believed in him, she was the original character dashed at the altar of the Winchesters. 

I fully believe if she had lived and if this show had a crumb of actual good writing Jo could have been a deeply compelling transmasc character. But I also think she’s a fascinating inversion of Dean. Dean is a Masculine Character who subverts Toxic Masculinity, Jo is a Tomboy™ she’s not your (if you take it straight, literally and metaphorically) average female love interest. She’s angry, she’s not soft at all, all edges and corners and thorns. She isn’t helpless, she’s stubborn but not in a “you’re going to get punished for this” way. She’s right when she’s stubborn. She’s helpful, she’s a martyr. 

I could do a whole other essay just on Jo (and Ellen, and Ash, what a fucking trio!) but needless to say Jo was one of the first...plot device feminine tools sacrificed to this show. She was a regular, she was unique, she was an engaging character, and she still died (to progress the plot? no. for man pain? yeah, for like three episodes maybe, and then it’s forgotten just like the rest of Dean’s trauma, as we mentioned above). 

Dean and Women and Love is a very interesting tool used too because. Boy they sure try to make Dean love women and it fails in small ways, and in big, meaningless, failed het domesticity (again) ways. Not to mention whatever Lust (in the form of a woman) having no effect upon him, when they could have used that moment to assert his Masculinity and Heterosexuality. He behaved normally? And...also...whatever the fuck the Adios thing was!

Like they have these opportunities to make him Traditionally (toxically) Masculine, but make the choice to...not? To soften him. Because it’s a tool. He’s their female lead, textually he had to take on the role of mother(/father) to Sam, but...I mean this is a million miles long already. I know, but we absolutely can’t not talk about his Paternal/Maternal behaviors. (Which appear again and again again and again, outside of his relationship with Sam even/especially). He’s the mother hen, sage, safety net, beacon, home to so many side characters they meet.

I mean in many ways Jody is also a Dean comparison. Lost her family. Found a new family. She is non-traditionally feminine, but easily flustered and Silly™ (let’s just drop the entire sex talk over family dinner scene with Alex and the boys and looking to them for help, even though she was already a mother, and she’s a cop, and a hunter and this confident no nonsense individual.... She’s not). We are meant to see her as this hard ass, but she makes extra food for the boys to take back to the bunker. She’s deadly in a fight, but also still easily overwhelmed and put into damsel mode, and she cares so much even in the face of adversity.

It’s also fun to see how Jo | Jody are reflections of Dean at different points of his life. Younger, cocky | Older, settled.

Even when the text tries to tell us that he’s not.

When it reminds us that he’s violent. That he is his father, even if he says that Sam is more like John (which was reflexive, which was angry because of Adam and how Sam was behaving like Dean in that episode, and yes there are parallels to be drawn between Sam and John, the show barely dives into them). Instead we’re told that Dean is John (Again and  Again and Again and Again). 

So intensely that a fanfictionalized version of the Winchester Gospels makes it an entire fucking musical number. 

And yet, despite the texts insistence to make Dean Macho Man Father Reborn™ We get this Dean who is silly (and directly compared/contrasted to the female character in this scene), soft, in heels, nagging, and... Sully (you know Sam’s imaginary friend who has the same Haircut Dean has, who is a softer, shorter, friendlier, campier, version of Dean who was a replacement For Dean until the real one let Sam back in? That? Sully?) it’s hard to take them seriously. 

Hell, even when he was A DEMON? What did they do? They had him sing off-key drunken karaoke, they had him doing this ! Like that’s your hero, unhinged, free to be as bad as he could be, and you put him in a cowboy hat in a romance with the king of hell. 

The Female Lead, everyone. Who’s biggest betrayal(s) comes at the hands of his love interest (again, a man even though it was an angel who could’ve taken any vessel! who could’ve been recast, who canonically dies admitting his love to Dean - that one), who he tries so hard to be loyal to. 

The contradictions of his character are laughable. He is so emotional, but if he is engaged about his emotions? He shuts down, or he’s exasperated about being asked about them. It really is Female Lead/Only Here For The Plot disease, because everything is more important than him. How’s he doing? Doesn’t matter outside of the context of how x character is doing or that y character is dead. Or his emotions only matter if they’re done in penance. 

They also really do frame him as Pretty Boy™ in a violent way, or in a derogatory manner. They’ll give us homoerotic shots like this or these and never really acknowledge how these are gay shots. Sorry the gun scene is a a straight up sex scene, the beer sip spilling out over his mouth is oral, the scene where Cas fills up Dean’s glass with whisky is also a sex scene, they do this shit on purpose but accidentally queer it up. If Dean was a woman these scenes wouldn’t even matter. They’d be passing moments, but because he is not just a man but A Man™ they’re insane to see.

Not to mention all of these scenes and all the ones I haven’t linked where Dean dresses up. He performs masculinity, but he performs femininity too. He’s a plot device that is slotted in to whatever role they need. He’s Super Straight Butch Man™ but coaches the lesbian on how to successfully flirt with a man. He’s Action Hero™ who sits through a montage with the same lesbian and yays and nays her outfits, and enjoys himself.

Fuck he loves dressing up, he feels better in these costumes because performing a character is easier than being himself. Because who is Dean? He’s a tool, both textually and metatextually. It is exactly how the women and because of the women on the show that Dean is the way that he is. If there was a more steady female presence Dean would not be half as much of a plot device or half as camp/gay/feminine/non-traditionally masculine/queer coded as he is. 

In conclusion....

[wandsandwheezes]

As a Kite | R.W

TW / mentions of ouid n getting h*gh , Smut, (Oral - female receiving, dirty talk, a lil dominance) other than that fluffy stuffs.

Fair warning this is basically pwp and I'm not ashamed because I am the biggest simp for my boy Ron 😍 I'll probably end up writing the 2nd part as I am a thirsty girl xoxox

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❤️

@witch-and-a-half @weasleysflowr @hufflepuffgirly @theweasleysredhair

Dragging my feet up the stairs to the Gryffindor commons was like hell after a long morning in the dungeons for potions.

I had a free afternoon, one that was usually spent pestering Ron to indulge in a food adventure or a trip to the astronomy tower to get away from it all. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for my best friend. In the summer before my first year, Ron and I made a promise to always look out for each other, mainly because I was way too scared to roam Hogwarts on my own but also because He had already had the craziest first year he could've imagined. We have been inseparable since, There were never any secrets between us and to him I was an open book.

I knock on the door to the boy's dorm, hearing the giggles of the weasley boys coming from within, after a few moments a glazed eyed Ron opens the door, smile beaming at me from ear to ear. "How're we feeling this afternoon, Ronald?" I ask, the faint smell of we*d hitting my senses as I step into the room, "brilliant thanks, I'm glad you're here," he says, I take a seat on his bed, greeting the twins with a smile, "you boys wouldn't happen to be high at all, would you now?" I laugh, "As a kite, dear Y/N" George speaks, "and Georgie made some if his signature brownies, just for you" Fred adds, handing me a foil packet, which I gladly take.

Getting high with the boys was not too unusual, It's been a smell I'd familiarised myself with during my childhood spent at the Weasley home, at first it was Bill's doing, then the Twins, with Ron, Ginny and I following along soon after. I've been lucky to have a wizarding family like the Weasleys, with Molly taking pity on my mother and sister who were both muggles, offering to step in and handle the wizarding side of things with my father out of the picture - a gesture I could never repay.

Fred and George left Ron's dorm to head back to their own after hours of giggles, deciding to take a not so simple detour through the kitchens to satisfy their newfound hunger. This left Ron and I in the room alone, my fingers running through his soft hair as his head lay in my lap, "If you keep doing that, ill fall asleep..." He hums, causing me to laugh gently, pulling a little at the hairs at the back of his head. He watched my every move, dopey grin still all over his face.

"Bloody hell, I think I'm in love." Ron admits, I roll my eyes, "I know Krum's in the castle, Ronald but you're going to need to win him over with more than that." He sits up, looking at me with all seriousness, before shaking his head, "Not Krum... You. I'm in love with you, Y/N." I freeze for a second, shock is not the word I was looking for, perhaps confusion? Sure Ron was an attractive young lad and he was funny, funnier than the twins (not that I'd tell them that), he was charming, kind, strong, caring and by godric he was perfect, but in love with me? He was everything I needed, he was patient with me, he listened to every worry, he was there on my good days and bad days, yet here i am staring at his lips, wanting nothing more than for him to just kiss me. That was it.

I think I love him too, how blind have I been to not have seen this sooner. "Ron, I-" I smile grabbing his hand that had found its way to my cheek, leaning into his touch. "I love you." I breathe out, looking deep into his eyes.

I found out a lot of things about Ron that night; Number one - Ron is absolutely adorable when he's high.

Number two - Ron is literal putty in my hands as soon as I'm playing with his hair

Number three - Ron was in love with me, and I with him.

And finally, Number four - Ron is not the gentle lover I thought he would be, and I am weak the second he's whispering about all the dirty things he wants to do to me. He is a Rough lover, rougher than I expected.

He liked to take control, pinning me against the sheets, placing kisses to every piece of skin he laid his eyes on. "I can't wait to hear you moan for me, darling" he places a kiss to my forehead before resting his own against it letting go of my wrists to pull me up, hand pressed against the small of my back, "tell me if it's too much, we go as far as you want." I run my hands through his soft hair, pulling him in for a kiss, I could smell the cinnamon, a scent I'd associated with him, his kisses were powerful and spoke a thousand words to me, I pull away from his lips for a moment, trailing kisses to his ear, whispering gently to him. "I want you Ron, I need this, make me feel good..."

That was all it took to send him to overdrive, I fell in love there and then with the way his eyes darkened as we fumbled to undress each other, frantic and needy kisses being pressed against each other's skin. He pushed me back against the bed, kneeling between my thighs, as he hooks his fingers into my underewear, pulling them down my legs, a hunger in his eyes, "fuck, you're already so wet," he hums, "what is it you want first baby, my fingers or my tongue? hm? I don't hear my girl begging for anything, I may have to leave her here, untouched and needy. That sounds like fun..." I roll my eyes, big mistake, his hand grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him, "I don't expect attitude from you so early on." he warns "Beg." he almost growls, fingers ghosting over my thighs, "Use your words and tell me what you want." This side of Ron I'd never seen before and it was unlike anything I'd expect from him, but I need him. "I need your tongue baby, please Ron, I need you." that was all he needed, kisses trailed down my body to between my legs, "Good girl," he smirks, blowing gently on my clit, causing a shiver to run through my body, his tongue already on me before i could register what was going on. His tongue was skilled, licking and sucking at my already wet pussy, It was pure heaven. He pulled my clit between his teeth, sucking on it, which in turn caused me to attach my hands to his soft, gorgeous hair, keeping his lips pressed firmly against me "Don't stop, Ron, It feels so good!" I moan out, my fingers in his hair only egging him on further.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, kissing his way up my body. The sounds of laughing boys echo through the hall, growing closer and closer to the door. "for fuck's sake," he groans, reaching over to grab his wand quickly locking the door with a spell, before anyone walks in on us "colloportus!" he looks down at me with a smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he helps me back into my clothes. "I hope I wasn't being too much, I don't want to scare you off." I laugh, reaching up to smooth down his hair, making it less obvious that my hands had previously been tangled in his gorgeous locks. "Bloody hell, as if you couldn't get any sexier... I don't think you were doing nearly enough" I tease, He smirks, picking me up off the bed and carrying me to the door, "good, because I've hardly even started with you, Princess"

"Ron, mate if you don't open this door ill kill you myself, I'm bloody exhausted." Dean groans from the other side of the door, banging on it a little harder than he had been before "Room of requirement after dinner?" I suggest, he nods, placing me down to my feet, pressing a kiss to my lips to say goodbye, "I don't want to open the door because I'm not finished kissing you yet." I roll my eyes, grabbing my wand to unlock the door again, before swinging it open.

Seamus, Harry and Dean burst into the room, swinging their bags onto their beds, "If it was just Y/N in here I don't see why you had to lock the door," Dean whines, Harry scanning over Ron's face, to his hand which is still gently holding onto mine, "I think we may have been interrupting something here, guys" he speaks, crossing his arms looking between the two of us, cueing me to slip out of the room before there are any more questions "Shove off, Harry" Ron jokes, his eyes following my movements to the door, I poke my head back into the room, "Oi, make sure you save me one of George's brownies for after dinner, don't scoff them all!" I smile at the boys innocently, "I will do, Ba-Y/N" Ron quickly corrects himself, nobody catching onto his slip up, "Don't have too much fun without me!" I laugh, Ron responding quickly "I wouldn't dream of it."

[harrylilies]

The Royal Series | Pt. VII

The Royal Series Masterlist

Sometimes, time ran faster than you could comprehend. A month after your trip to Amsterdam, you were filled to the brim with contentment.

Not only were you happy that you and Harry were official, but somewhere amidst that trip and what followed, a friendship seemed to spark between you and Prince Fred.

Fred was more than meets the eye. He was respectful, funny, and an understand person, and perhaps that all was deeply appreciated but none other than your best friend, Nia, whom Fred had been seeing for a short while after way too many stolen glances, soft teasing, and hushed conversations in Amsterdam, though they were yet to make anything official.

"Y/N, come on," Fred groaned as he sat on your sofa. "I can't possibly take her there."

You rolled your eyes, putting your laptop aside as you crossed your legs and turned his way. "You can't always take her to fancy restaurants, that's boring."

"And I can't also be seen in an amusement park when our families are basically planning our wedding."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping in response.

“Also, about that, have you told Harry yet?"

You pursed your lips together, shaking your head. "No," you looked at him, "I haven't."

"Y/N..." Fred dragged, leaning his head back.

"I know! I know what you're thinking but I can't tell him anything when he's on tour. Tonight is his last day in the first leg of the tour then he's coming back and won't go back until March. I think I have time." You shrugged. "I have time, don't I?"

"Not for long." He answered, reaching to take the cup of orange juice you poured him. "If he's the right person, he'll stay." Fred reminded you.

"What if he's the right person and he doesn't?" You asked quietly, "How can he, after his girlfriend drops news like that on him?" You rubbed your temple, closing your eyes.

"Have some faith, will you?" Fred said, "Have you told your brothers about him?"

"Not yet. I'm telling them tonight. They're coming over for dinner." You answered him, standing up and stretching your arms over your head.

"What an eventful life." Fred chuckled, unlocking his phone and looking at the screen. "Fuck, I have to leave. I have two hours to get ready for my date."

You cooed, poking his arm. "By the way, Nia will look stunning tonight."

“How did y-Ah,” he chuckled, “Group chat or whatever.”

"You bet." You pointed at him, "Don't forget. The olive jacket, not the navy blue one."

"Yes, ma'am." Fred nodded, walking towards the door with you behind him. "Have any plans for that breakfast in Buckingham we're having tomorrow?"

"Think we should have fun. Show Ganny that this is the last thing we need." You told him, holding your door knob.

Fred nodded as he looked at you while holding his jacket on his arm. "Seeing Harry tomorrow?"

You grinned, nodding. "I am."

He smiled, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. "Have fun tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You have fun, too. Take a picture or two and send them to me, yeah?" You wiggled your eyebrows making him laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow, Freddie."

With that, he left.

Right as you closed the door, FaceTime's ringtone came from your laptop. You took long strides towards it, smiling when you saw it was Harry. You instantly accepted the video call, already feeling giddy as it connected.

It only took about 3 seconds before you saw his face, looking tired yet with a heart-warming wide smile, "Hi."

You tilted your head, smiling softly at him, "Hi."

"I'm at the airport," Harry said, flipping the camera to show you what was around him before turning and showing you a group of people, all waving and calling for him. "Was just there with the fans." He informed you before flipping the camera again so you could see his face. "And I miss you."

If you really and literally had butterflies in your stomach, you were pretty sure they were constantly growing in numbers every time you talked to Harry. "I miss you, too. I'm seeing you tomorrow, aren't I?"

"You definitely are. Y-Hang on, baby," his eyes looked away from his phone as he talked to someone else.

Completely oblivious to the tint on your cheeks and the wide grin on your face at the pet name. "Baby." You had whispered quietly to yourself, leaning your head back on the couch.

"Hm?" Harry looked at you, "Did you say anything, love?"

"No," you shook your head. "You just called me something new, that's all."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed and if it weren't for the fact that he was a continent away, you would've kissed that frown away. "I did?"

"You called me baby." You giggled.

The amusement and admiration went both ways because hearing your giggle, seeing you with your hair up in a messy ponytail and glasses on your face, Harry couldn't help but silently admire the way you looked and sounded. You looked effortlessly beautiful; the kind of beautiful he never encountered and the kind of beautiful he never would've thought would call "his.” "I did, didn't I?" Harry smiled, looking at you through his phone's screen, "You bring out the sap in me."

"I'm not complaining." You shrugged with a soft laugh.

Harry chuckled, looking up from his phone before looking at you again. "I have to go now, love."

"Are you still sure about me not picking you up from the airport?" You asked him.

"We can't risk you getting seen." Harry repeated his words from a couple of days ago, "I'll be all yours at 7 tomorrow."

You sighed, nodding. "Right, I know. You're right. Text me when you land?"

"Of course. I'll see you soon. And because I won't be there tonight, goodnight, baby." He pressed his lips to his front camera, making you break into a smile.

"Goodnight, H." You pressed a kiss to your hand before putting it on your laptop screen. As you both waved, you ended the call.

//

"How's your campaign going, Tiny?" Your brother, Harry, asked before taking a sip of his wine.

"Really well. We reached 3 million just last night." You grinned, watching as everyone erupted in supportive cheers.

"Y/N, that's amazing!" Meghan gasped.

"And it's only going to grow and get better. Good job, Y/N." Kate smiled warmly at you before looking at William.

"I knew you could do it." William said with a grin, "Pa would be so happy for you."

You cringed, "Let's not talk about that part of the family right now," you began, tucking a locket of hair behind your ear, "Especially since I'm telling you something that they won't like."

Your brothers and their partners all broke into serious faces, looking at you intently. Har put his fork down, leaning closer to the table, "Are you okay?"

You nodded instantly, gulping a sip of wine. "I'm okay, great even. It's good news."

"Well say it, I'm shitting myself." Har said, making you laugh.

"Okay, uh," you cleared your throat before looking at them. "You know Harry?" Everyone looked at your brother in confusion, making you roll your eyes. "Not this one."

"Styles?" William asked and you nodded, "Oh, you mean your Romeo. What about him?"

"We're uh," you smiled nervously, putting your hands on the table. "We're together now."

"Like officially?" Meghan asked.

You nodded, "I saw him when I was in Amsterdam with my friends and we made it official."

Meghan awed, standing up and approaching you to wrap her arms around you, "I'm so happy for you!"

You grinned, letting her give you one final squeeze before she sat down beside your brother. "He really seems decent, Y/N. I'm happy for you." Kate grinned at you.

"Thank you, Kate." You smiled back at her before glancing at your brothers who seemed to be in thought. "What?"

"When are we meeting him?" William asked, "Har, you remember a move or two from your military service?"

"Of course, I do. We can learn a few new moves, too. Just to show him that he can't break Tiny's heart." Harry replied back, dramatically hitting his fist against his palm, laughing as you groaned.

"Yup, you're never meeting him." You nodded.

"Aw, come on!" He laughed, "We're just looking out for you."

"Just because I'm a father of two kids and soon third, doesn't mean I'm any less of an older brother to my baby sister." William shrugged at you with a teasing grin.

"You're awful!" You laughed as you all began to stand up from the table.

"Wait," Kate looked at you before laughing in disbelief, "Does that mean he met Fred in Amsterdam? He knows?"

You nodded, "They did. Actually, here’s the funny part. Harry still doesn't really know about the whole thing with Fred."

"Oh shit." Meghan instantly reacted.

You nodded, holding yours and William's plates in your hands as you shook your head with a smile to your two housemaids once they approached to help, giving them a “Thanks, we got it” as you walked to the kitchen, your brother Harry behind you with his and Meghan's plates. "Are you going to tell him?"

You put the plates by the sink before leaning on the counter as the rest came to the kitchen, putting plates and cups away. "I am. Tomorrow."

"Noticed you and little Freddie are friends now." William said, fixing the apple magnet on your fridge.

"He's interested in Nia."

"I feel like you're in a teenage drama series." Kate joked.

You laughed, "But seriously, I'm happy with how things are now. I mean, imagine how bad would it be if he wasn't actually interested in someone else? Besides, he's a great person."

"Harry's just greater." Har said before letting out a low groan, "We have to find him a new name."

"Romeo." William said, making you swat him on the arm.

"Romeo it is."

"No!"

//

Standing up and smoothening your black dress, you smiled politely at Fred's parents.

"So good to see you, Your Highness. You have grown to be a beautiful woman." His mother, Lady Gwen, smiled at you as she kissed your cheeks.

"Thank you. You look wonderful." You complimented her with a smile.

"There's the princess! Look at you!" His father, Dean, exclaimed, shaking your hand enthusiastically.

You chuckled, glancing at Fred who rolled his eyes at his parents from behind them. As they both moved to greet your family, you and Fred greeted each other with a firm handshake, both snickering to yourselves. "Hello, Fredrick."

"Hello, Your Highness Princess Y/N. It's wonderful to see you." Fred said, bowing his head.

"How was your date?" You whispered, wide eyed.

Fred grinned, the blush on his cheek not going unnoticed by you. "Amazing."

You let out a low squeal before looking behind you at everyone else settling, "We should sit. Come on."

Taking your seats and sitting after your grandmother sat, everyone chatted quietly.

"Y/N here told me that you had fun in Amsterdam." Your grandmother told Fred, smiling at him.

Fred glanced at you before looking at her and nodding, "We did. Y/N has very nice friends."

"She does," she staggered, "It's only because she's nice herself. When she was young, you could easily mistake her for an angel." She laughed.

Your siblings snickered under their breath, knowing for fact that none of you were angels when you were younger. You had broken way too many ornaments and precious Chinas to be angels.

"What about your older days, Y/N?" Fred smirked, looking at you.

You shrugged in a smug manner, "Not so angelic. What about you, Fred? Are you any angel?"

"Definitely not. I like to relax by listening to heavy metal and attending raves undercover. In fact, I have taken a liking for tattoos. Think maybe I should get a small one," he leaned closer, as if he only wanted to direct his next words to only you, "On my rear." Fred said before leaning back on his chair casually, holding his cup of tea as his parents stared at him in shock, as did the Queen,

"Vulgar." You said under your breath jokingly, causing him to laugh, covering his mouth.

"Scandalous." He whispered.

"Oh honey, you're too humble," Lady Gwen began, looking at her son as she chuckled nervously. "You know, Y/N, Fred here is an amazing polo player, just like you." She grinned, raising her eyebrows.

 Giving her a tight smile, you replied. "Oh, I actually stopped playing polo."

Her face fell, glancing at her husband who coughed to stifle his chuckle. "Is that so?" She chuckled reluctantly, "Well but you still play the piano, right? Fred here is excellent when it comes to music. Fred plays piano so well."

"I don't actually. I like playing the cello. Piano is a bit boring for me." Fred replied.

"And I don't always play the piano for everyone. Just a few people get to see and hear me play the piano." You added before steadily eating a berry.

Your eyes caught your grandfather who was laughing as he looked at his cup of English tea. He looked up, giving you a discreet wink before bringing his cup to his lips.

"Remember when you broke that cello Eugenie got for my 21st birthday?" Har asked you, playing along.

You nodded, "God, these instruments are just enormous. Take up too much space."

"Okay," Lady Gwen laughed awkwardly, "Tell us about your Amsterdam trip. It was fun, wasn't it?"

"It was," You nodded, "My favourite part was when we all went to that nude beach."

Your father, Prince Charles, choked on his tea, having Camilla rub his back soothingly. Your brothers, however, weren't discreet as they burst out laughing, your grandmother looking at you in horror.

You casually sipped your tea, looking at Fred, "It was a fun trip, wasn't it?"

//

"It's really cold, isn't it?" You asked one of your personal guards, Sid, hugging your sweater closer to your body as you got out of the car.

"Just like how December should be." He smiled warmly down at you.

"It's our favourite season of the year, Sid." You smiled, remembering how years ago when you were younger, you had a conversation with Sid about how you liked December season and how festive it was, "You can really go the coffeeshop around here or do anything you want."

Andrew nodded at you as they both walked you to Harry's front door, standing at a fair distance. "We'll feel better waiting here."

"If you change your mind, you can text me. I'm just going to stay indoors." You said before ringing Harry's door bell and taking a step back.

"Have a good night, Princess Y/N." Sid tipped his head slightly at you.

"You, too, Sid. And you, too, Andrew."

As soon as you finished your sentence, the door opened to none other than the man you would proudly shout that he was yours. His hair tousled on his head, almost transparent framed eyeglasses fixed on his nose, a grey sweater and black joggers covering him as he stood barefoot. Harry instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, making you squeal as he carried you off of the ground, walking backwards and inside the house, making you wrap your limbs around him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"God, I missed you." He breathed out against your neck, pressing a chaste kiss on your skin before kissing your shoulder. He kicked his door shut after making sure your guards weren't standing there and walked inside his house, with you still wrapped around him.

"Feels like years since I last saw you." You whispered against his shoulder, moving your lips to press a kiss on his sweater clad skin. "You smell nice."

 "Yeah?" He smiled, plopping on his couch, with you on his lap. His hands moved to clasp his fingers behind your back to support it, making you lean back to get a better look at him.

You grinned, moving your hands to cup his cheeks, squishing his face so he looked like a fish, making you laugh and Harry to shut his eyes, letting out a muffled "kiss.” You let his cheeks go, resting your hands on his shoulders and leaning down till your lips were pressed against each other, chest to chest.

It was something that puzzled Harry himself. You see, Harry read all about relationships, the stages and love. He read about women and men and mostly knew about what to say and when to say it (sometimes). He read all about the thumping heartbeats and butterflies. He read all about the stages; infatuation, liking and falling in love. Harry read all about lust and emotional connection. Harry seemed to know what to do and understanding to how he was feeling; he had a plan. But that's the thing. It was never about lists and plans.

You meet someone for the first time and all of the sudden, it's like your heart has been yearning for so long. You see them and you think all about the good the world has to offer — the good that you want to offer.

You meet someone and all you want to do is write about them; their eyes, their laugh, the crinkle of their nose.

You make lists and plans and it all crumbles when you meet someone. That's the thing about love, the best kind of it is when it's spontaneous. When you have no idea what the fuck you are feeling or when the fuck you began to feel it but fuck, it's going to be the best feeling you've ever felt.

So, with a blanket covering the both of you, Amy Winehouse's vinyl playing and your hushed whispers making you giggle as your head was on Harry's arm as you both lied down on the sofa, it all felt natural and familiar. His hand playing with yours, lacing your fingers together before tracing your palm lines as he told you all about Tokyo. Looking into his face, your lips seemed to have a mind of their own as they pulled up in a faint smile as you watched him talk, green eyes boring into yours.

Without thinking, his hand that was draped from the sofa as you slept on his other arm was raised, beginning to softly stroke your hair as Harry continued talking, seeming oblivious to his actions. You hummed, turning to your side and fully looking at him, your leg on his.

"How do you celebrate Christmas?" He asked gently, looking at you with so much care.

"Well," you lied more comfortably in his arms, "We go to Granny's country home in Norfolk. We open gifts on Christmas Eve then at 5 that day, it's time for tea and all that in the saloon then it's fancy dinner. I usually stay with Will at his place instead of with Granny because it's always too noisy and there's always a commotion there so we leave after dinner," you told him slowly, your palm on his chest as he looked down on you, "On Christmas day, we have breakfast then we attend the church service at St. Mary's Magdalene. At 1, it's turkey time then at 3, we watch granny's speech. It's hectic but nice."

"That's really eventful," Harry admitted, bringing her body closer to his, "When are you usually done with everything?"

"Around 5:30."

"What do you say," he began, his dimple seen as he gave you a cheeky smile, "You spend the rest with me?"

Your eyebrows furrowed but the smile didn't leave your face as you shuffled back a little to have a better look at his face, "Where?"

"Back at my home, in Cheshire." Harry nodded slowly, his hand grazing and tracing your hip.

"With- with your family?" You let out a small laugh of disbelief. Harry grinned and nodded. "You want me to meet your family?" You asked quietly, moving to lie on top of him, making him laugh and lock his arms behind your back.

"It's Christmas. I can't think of a better vibe for a first meeting and I certainly can't wait for next year's Christmas." Harry answered, giving you a shrug.

"Are you sure about this?" You asked him, nuzzling your head in his shoulder as you tried to stifle your grin.

"I'm sure." Harry replied back as quietly.

And because for the rainbow to beautify the world, there has to be rain, your smile faltered. You sighed against his shoulder before pulling away and sitting up, getting somewhat seated on Harry's thighs with your legs on either side of his body.

"What is it?" He asked, frowning. "Does it make you uncomfortable? Because we've been together for a month? I just - I thought that we've known each other for three months now and it has been ama-"

"H," you chuckled, cutting him off. You leaned down, giving his lips a soft peck, "It's not about that. I'm flattered that you want me to meet your family."

"Then what is it?"

You leaned back again and sat, your palms resting his stomach, your eyes traveling to the bit of skin that showed from when his sweater rose up, seeing a hint of his tattoos. "I have to tell you something." You spoke, avoiding his eyes.

"Baby, you're making me nervous." Harry admitted, resting his hands on your thighs.

You gulped, glancing at his eyes for a second before looking back at where your hands rested. "I'm, uh," you stuttered, a deep frown on your face. "You know Fred?"

"Your friend?"

You cleared your throat before nodding slightly, "You know how I'm the only daughter?" You asked him, watching as he nodded, "Well, since I'm the only daughter, my family decided to plan my life ahead. My siblings did what they wanted because, I don't know, they thought of them as hopeless cases I guess but they waited for 11 years for a girl and when I came, they couldn't," you shook your head, "They couldn't have but the best for me. The best for the monarch, So they, uh," you fiddled with your fingers on his stomach, "They arranged a marriage for me."

What?" Harry instantly reacted, pushing himself to lean on his elbows as he looked at you in disbelief. "What does Fre- He's-" He sucked in a breath, "You're arranged to marry Fred?"

You nodded reluctantly, cringing when you heard Harry let out a small chuckle of disbelief.

"So you have your life planned and I'm guessing your firstborn's name and you come into my life because...?" Harry asked in disbelief, the hurt in his tone being clear enough for you to pick up on.

"No, no," you instantly denied, looking at him. "I know it sounds bad but it won't happen."

"It won't happen because you're hoping it wouldn't or it won't happen because you talked to your family and this isn't actually going to happen?" He asked you firmly, looking intently at your eyes.

You gave him no answer first, making him scoff slightly before plopping back on his back, moving his hands to his face as he rubbed it. "Harry, I wasn't lying to you." You said, moving off of him to sit beside him instead.

"You kept this from me, Y/N. Don't you think that this was the first thing I should know? You let me meet him for fuck's sa-What was he doing with you in Amsterdam? What was that?" He looked at you with a frown.

"My grandmother had him come with me as a way to get us to know each other." You replied quietly.

"And you did. Fuck, Y/N, and all these times you told me that you were with Fred, were you practicing your vows? Choosing the table cloth?" He asked sarcastically, making you almost wince.

"No, Harry. I told you the truth. I don't want to be with him. I'm not going to be with him, whatever happens."

"So your entire family must hate me, don't they?"

"They don't," you shook your head, "It's just my grandmother and father, they're still somewhat attempting because they think you're a fling or it’s just me rebelling against them."

"Am I? Am I something you're rebelling against them with, Y/N?"

"Of course not!"

Harry sighed, his rings clad hands moving to cover his face. "Is there anything else you're not telling me?"

"My brothers know about you and they want to meet you," you began, "And Fred has been seeing Nia."

"And how is Nia coping?" He asked, looking you, resting his arms beside him in defeat.

"She knows that nothing will happen. That there's no way this marriage will happen." You assured him, "I know it sounds ba-"

"Awful." Harry corrected you with a small chuckle, making you smile sympathetically.

"Awful. But I haven't been lying to you. When I told you that I really like you, I wasn't lying," you shook your head, "When I told you that being with me wasn't easy, I wasn't lying either."

"What about that time you told me that you weren't scared?" He asked gently, one hand reaching to grasp your hand on his stomach.

"I don't want to lose you." Your reply came the second he closed his mouth, determination and sincerity dripping from your words.

Harry sat up, leaning towards you until it was you on your back and him hovering you, "And I don't want to lose you."