#anyway sam loves dean more than anyone and anything else in the whole world

[lilacpaperbird]

Literally.

Sam: "You're my brother, and I'd die for you" (1x5)

Rebecca: "Nobody knows that you do this?" Sam: "No" Rebecca: "Did Jessica know?" Sam: "No, she didn’t." Rebecca: "Must be lonely" Sam: [looking away at Dean] "Oh, no. No, it’s not so bad" (1x6)

Sam: "I'm not gonna let you die, period." (1x12)

Sam “Dean... I wanna thank you” Dean: “For what?” Sam: “For everything” (1x21)

John: "Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything" [Sam looks in the rear view mirror at Dean] Sam: "No, sir. Not before everything" (1x22)

Sam: "You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this" (2x22)

Dean: "She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is – it's me" (3x3)

Dean: "It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it." Sam: "I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?" (3x6)

Sam: "I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world" (3x7)

Gabriel: “This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam.” (3x11)

Dean: “Why even risk it” Sam: “Because you're my brother” (3x16)

Sam [stabs knife into the crossroads demon's hand]: "I don't want ten years. I don't want one year. I don't want candy! I want to trade places with Dean." (4x9)

Patrick: "When it's about your brother, you get so emotional, your brain just flies right out the window." (5x7)

Sam: "No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call" Dean: "You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here." Sam: "Yeah, well… I guess I’m not that smart." Dean: "I–I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?" Sam: "Because… you’re still my big brother." (5x18)

Tortured!Sam: "Sam, you can't imagine. Stay here, go back, find that bartender, go find Jess, but don't do this. I know you. You're not strong enough. Why is this so important to you?" Sam: "You know me. You know why. I'm not leaving my brother alone out there." (6x22)

Sam: "You're not a grunt dean. You're a genius. you're the best damn hunter I've ever seen. Better than me. Better than dad. I believe in you" (8x14)

Sam: "You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down." (8x22)

Dean: "When you were five and you got dressed up as Batman and you jumped off the shed 'cause you thought you could fly" Sam: "After you jumped first." (9x15)

Dean: “I told you to let me go” Sam: “You know I can't do that” (10x2)

Dean: "So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?" Sam "No" Dean: "Why? You don't know what I've done. I might have it coming" Sam: "Well, I don't care. Because you are my brother. And I'm here to take you home." (10x2)

Dean: “I never even said thank you” Sam: “You don't ever have to say that. Not to me” (10x4)

Sam: "If there’s a cure, we’ll do it and deal with the consequences later. I can’t lose you!" (10x18)

Sam: “You'll never, ever hear me say that you, the real you, is anything but good.” (10x23)

Sam: “I unleashed a force in this world that could destroy it... to save you” Dean: “And I told you not to” Sam “And I’d do it again. In a second i would do it again.” (11x1)

Sam [praying at the chapel]: “And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but... Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life” (11x2)

Sam: "You’ll taunt me and you’ll torture me, and I’ll say no. And eventually, sooner than you think, my brother’s gonna walk through that door and kick your ass" Lucifer [laughing]: "Dean? You’re betting on Dean?" Sam: "I always have" (11x10)

Cas [actually Lucifer]: "That procedure can be fatal" Sam: "Use my soul. (...) It's worth the risk. Cas, Dean needs our help" (11x14)

Sam: "And if we die? We'll do that together, too” (13x20)

Sam: "If it meant finding Dean, I-I'd work with -- I'd do anything." (14x1)

Dean: "I know I wasn’t always the greatest brother to you" Sam: "Dean, you were the one who was always there for me. The only one. I mean, you practically raised me" (14x2)

Sam: "What happened with Michael… You said yes for me, for Jack, for your family. You did the right thing. What happened after, just because Michael was wearing your face doesn’t mean any of this is on you. I don’t blame you, no one blames you. You’ve got to try and stop blaming yourself. Please." (14x4)

Sam [dying]: "You–You always put– You always put me first" Dean: "No, no. Shh, shh. Come on. Come on, man" Sam: "Your whole life..." (14x17)

Sam: "But I can't do it without you. I can't. Just like I couldn't do it today without you. I need my brother." (15x6)

Chuck: "I'm just the messenger, Sam. I'm sharing my omniscience with you" Sam: "No, the Dean I know... the Dean who raised me – he'd never give up, no matter how bad things got" (15x9)

Sam: "My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do." (15x17)

Dean: "It's always been you... and me." Sam [crying]: "Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone" Dean: "Yes, you can" Sam: "Well, I don't want to." (15x20)

And of course - this detail from the script of 4x2:

we don’t talk enough about sam’s devotion to dean btw

[quietwingsinthesky]

oh goddamnit. fine. old man yaoi.

They are two men out of time, and Samuel doesn’t even bother to look at him when he enters a room.

Henry is used to hierarchy. He’s spent his life working up the ranks, and he’s still- He was still lagging behind, not let in on the greatest secrets the Men of Letters kept within their walls. (All these and more are open to him now. He’s still working through the decades of knowledge stored in here with Sam. It’s the only way he can think of to bond with his grandson.)

Samuel sets off those old nervous tendencies in him to shut up and stand at attention for orders. It’s aggravating. He’s nothing more than a hunter, a prolific one with a base of knowledge that leaves Henry reluctantly impressed, but still as bullheaded and violent as the rest of them.

It hurts Henry that sometimes he sees more of Samuel’s face in his grandsons than his own. Even John’s features always took more after his mother than him. It catches him off-guard in awful ways, Millie’s words in their mouths, the way she used to let certain vowels melt into the same sound until he teased her for it. He can’t say a thing about Sam and Dean doing the same thing, only stand there pale as if he’d seen a ghost and leave the room quickly.

A humanizing quirk of Samuel: sometimes Henry looks up from a book to see his something other than stubborn indifference behind his eyes, his gaze falling on those boys in quiet grief and what Henry recognizes all too well now as horror.

None of them discuss why it is Sam and Dean don’t talk to Samuel like he’s anything more than a business partner, but Henry knows how betrayal roots itself. The Men of Letters require terrible things of those who prove themselves worthy.

Some nights (most nights) they get all to themselves. There’s a lot of old bottles stored in the Bunker. Antiques that Samuel cracks open and Henry doesn’t say a word so long as he gets a glass. They make Henry tolerable or Samuel less ill-tempered, or both too focused on remembering what they won’t get back to care.

“Tell me about Mary,” Henry asks, one night. He’s bold enough, or maybe drunk, or both. The way Samuel’s expression falls almost reels him back to sobriety, but then there’s pride there, too, and a fierce love Henry understands more than anyone else could. Samuel talks about Mary very differently than John chronicled her memory. She’s a hunter herself first, in Samuel’s eyes, and brash and stubborn as he is, but strong, head screwed on right despite it all, despite him, and sometimes, Samuel wishes he’d held on a little less tight. He’s lying, and Henry can tell, but he doesn’t say a word. His last memory of John is a bedtime promise he broke. He’d tear the whole world open if it meant going back for even one more hug.

And so, guiltily, he asks about John, too. There are so many parts of his son he never got to have. Even Samuel’s dim view of him is a welcome one.

For once, Samuel tempers his words. “He was good,” he says, and doesn’t add not good enough for Mary, but Henry smiles at it anyway. He imagines he’d be the same, if he’d been blessed with a daughter rather than a son. (He could have had a daughter-in-law, at least. The world could have been kind enough to give him that.) “Came back from the war whole, took care of his mother and worked hard. A good man.”

“Without me,” Henry says. “Despite me.” His chair seems unsteady. The world is spinning. Samuel catches his arm as he tries to stand and puts him back in his place.

“Too busy reading to learn how to hold your liquor?” It’s not kind, but it’s not cruel. Henry will take it.

“We valued sharp minds at any hour. No time for this kind of indulgence.” Now, their grandsons fight the war, and Henry’s bones are too old for his skin. Samuel looks the part he plays, aged fine and strong.

Henry looks at him too long some nights.

Wonders if Samuel misses his wife the same way Henry does his.

“Don’t throw up,” Samuel tells him. Henry tilts his head back. His world is moving too fast.

“And I could still have been sharper,” Henry mourns. “I never was a man for spellwork.”

“We get psychics to do it for us nowadays. The odd witch you don’t shoot in the back of the head,” Samuel comments, “or do after they give you the goods, if you’re hoping to live longer.”

“You would have made a terrible Man of Letters,” Henry says. What would those he worked with have said about the state of this place now, manned by two barely-legacies, a failure, and a hunter who didn’t bother with his own magic? The upside of them all being dead is that there’s no one left to disappoint.

“And you’re a shit hunter,” Samuel says, like they’re perfectly equivalent. Henry snorts. In this new future, he’s lost enough that they might as well be.

At least there are hunters out here fighting the good fight.

And it must be a good fight, to ask for so much and spit them out broken at the end with nothing in return.

“You’re going to need me to walk you to your bed, aren’t you?” Samuel grumbles. Henry tilts his head towards him. Samuel talks to him, and he talks to Samuel, and both of those boys walk on eggshells around them like they’re hoping to come back to the Bunker one day and find them gone.

Samuel’s right about the drink. Henry can’t hold it. He’s overfull with the details of lives he never saw led.

“I’d appreciate it,” he whispers. With the same strength he shoved him down with, Samuel hauls him up. Henry leans on him. Samuel stinks of gun oil, a compulsive habit of weapons cleaning for hunts he’s never asked on. Perhaps Henry should scan the newspapers (or that internet thing) for a case of his own. It’d do him good to get him out of the house. He could take Henry with him and let him escape this tomb for a week. If he didn’t end up kicking Henry to the side of the road in annoyance, maybe it would even be enjoyable.

“You let yourself get as bad as Deanna used to before she had Mary,” Samuel says. He does more of the walking than Henry does.

“And Millie would drink you under the table.” Henry’s chest aches, loneliness watered well until it chokes him.

He stumbles. Samuel steadies him easily. He has dark brown eyes that might have been warm in a kinder face. Instead, they set the handsome firmness of him in place, from his hard jaw to the top of his head. Henry swallows, trying and failing to keep an old sickness down.

Samuel could push him back first. He doesn’t.

He tastes like whiskey. Henry probably does, too. If the dead look after the living, he hopes they give their blessings. Samuel might not wear his wedding ring, but Henry couldn’t part with his yet. Samuel’s hand fits warm against the side of his face.

“That another thing your organization liked to keep quiet about?” he asks, when Henry’s only pulled back far enough that Samuel’s breath blasts hot across his mouth.

“We worked long nights,” Henry answers, “and if no one admitted to it, it never happened.”

“Funny,” Samuel says, and for the first time that he remembers, Henry sees him smile. It’s a hard and starved beast, and it might try to eat Henry alive. “I’ve known a lot of hunters who’d say the same thing.” Samuel drags him in, and Henry, ever a credit to his lost cause, does not go down easily. Samuel bruises him with reckless abandon. Henry strikes back in ways that make his head toss and groans rumble out of his chest. They make it back to Henry’s bedroom, eventually.

It’s a good thing the boys won’t be back for a while.

[hintsofhoney]

alright, *cracks fingers*. so. I’ve written up a transcript just to lay it all out for myself and get the most important parts. listen, everyone. for all intents and purposes and legal reasons, THIS WAS A DREAM. alright? I dreamt this. and he is literally the nicest human being ever so I don’t want to just like... put our whole convo out there like that, but I think he said some stuff that was important for people to hear so... here we go

my *dreamt* zoom call with thee crowley below the cut

The first five minutes (of my dream) was just a bunch of introduction stuff and talking about my favorite Supernatural seasons which eventually led to him telling me how they filmed the Season 8 finale (which they did over the span of three days, and in between takes the crew members were like dead silent, as to keep the moment going, which Mark thought was really cool. Said it was one of his favorite things they did on Supernatural.) Anyways, he eventually asked me if I had any questions, so, I’ll start there.

MARK: So, do you have any questions you want to ask me about aaaaaannyyyythingggg? 

ME: Um, I guess the number one thing I wanna know… um, so, I know you can’t speak for Dean and I don’t want to talk about Dean because you’re not Jensen, but, there’s like a lot of questions I guess or subtext or whatever concerning Dean’s sexuality and what not, but I want to know about demon Dean and Crowley’s relationship and if there was, I don’t know, anything like, any implied –

MARK: Well I think – I think you’re talking about… there’s a massive difference between sex and love. There’s a massive difference between, um, well, they can intertwine perfectly, that’s not the issue, but I mean you would believe with all the things that Crowley did for the Winchesters, that he was – that he very much loved Sam and Dean or loved who they are or what they are. To reduce it to, you know, a crush, or to something that – I mean, I don’t know, I think Crowley is very probably pansexual more than anything else; I don’t think anything phased him. I think, that’s why the whole stuff with Lucifer and licking the floor was kind of really stupidly boring for me because Crowley did weirder and crazier things on his own. I mean, it became this joke of trying to humiliate somebody who can’t be humiliated. There’s nothing you can humiliate Crowley with. So, that never sort of made sense, that was just a sort of writer’s glitch of thinking, “oooh, this would be funny to knock him down into subservience” and that’s what he does on a Wednesday, I mean it’s like the most un-inspiring thing. I think so much is projected onto the relationship between, certainly the four main characters, um, and, you know, look, getting comfortable with one’s sexuality and one’s identity is a massively complicated things, and if you want to live vicariously through what you believe people’s identity is and you can relate to that, great!  Who cares? I mean, can I be absolutely honest? Apart from – what I do care about, you know, don’t ever take this and piece me or misquote it, because it’s very, very specific – um, somebody stopping somebody being able to express their own identity or whatever is an issue for me. That will always be an issue for me. Um, we should all be treated equally, and we all have the rights to believe and follow those things that we wish to follow, but to project relationships onto characters is an odd thing to do. I mean, it’s wishful thinking in a lot of ways, I mean, actually it’s quite… it’s quite reasonable because in the past if you think about it, if you ask your parents or anyone else, the only way sexuality was used was to, uh, literally demonize somebody. It was only ever used to say somebody was bad because this who they’re in love with. You know, that’s, that’s the thing. And it’s a massive change in the world that we’re moving towards, I should say, uh – a lack of consequence for who one loves, apart from the obvious consequences of human nature. You know, political consequences for who one loves – I’ve just watched Pete Butteigieg being, you know, sitting in congress with his husband there with him; that’s the first time that’s ever happened in United States congress and I’m so proud of that. Not just because the man is gay and happily married – that’s not even the issue for me, it’s because he’s the best man for the job and one of the smartest people on the planet. You know, it’s like using sexual templates, as they were, or gender templates as they are, or orientation templates as they are, we always use to disclude people from things. They were always used to discriminate. You know, labeling somebody was a way of discrimination. And where as labels are very important, to ones self, and they’re very important politically and they’re very important socio-economically and they’re very important in all those aspects, I yearn for a time when nobody gives a damn. I really do. But I mean, we have to go through so much to get there. I mean, let’s be honest, you can’t, you know, right the wrongs of hundreds of years of oppression in 20 minutes by saying, “let’s all move forward”. It just doesn’t work that way, it never has. But there’s a responsibility there, that if you’re going to represent, that you represent all. That you don’t just represent you. So, one has to be careful with a television program or, or, you know, Misha or myself, or, not speaking for the boys, but just generally, um, you have to be careful that what you advocate is inclusive, not disinclusive. Not excluding people... and it’s so hard to frame these conversations, that they’re equitable, it’s so hard to do that. And so, you know, we spend years pointing out the inequity and the injustice and the unfairness of the whole situation, and… I don’t know if the trick is to rise above, or, uh, maybe it’s as simple as love and coming together as a human race and make it very difficult for people to discriminate and exclude based on gender, race, color, religion, any of the subsets of humanity that we’ve decided we have. So, I think personal responsibility is the most important thing, but if one is in a position of power on a TV show, you got to remember what you’re representing, that you have a, you know, you have to cover all or cover none. So, you know, but if you stick to a story and you have a story about a person or two people and their journey, that’s shining light on things. If you try to advocate for all, I think it becomes a little more complicated. Does that make sense?

so, i just feel like he said some important things there, but like I also don’t really understand what he’s getting at really, y’know? oh! also, he didn’t watch the finale lmao 

also! there’s this:

MARK: Because if you come down on one side or another, you’re admitting the sides, and that has its own political ramifications. If you push the ball up in the air and say, “you decide”, I don’t think that’s copping out. I think that’s, maybe not fulfilling everybody’s expectations, or not fulfilling everybody’s hopes, but at least you’re getting the question asked. You know, at least you’re getting the question asked. At least people are relating to it and going, “well, what if?”. Because it’s all “what if”, I mean, it’s a TV show, so it’s “what if”, you know? It’s not Misha being in love with Jensen, I mean as much as he loves Jensen, I don’t think that’s his thing – I mean you never know – but I’m saying yet again, I don’t exclude anything from anybody (I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID THIS LMAO). But to force my opinion or my identity belief upon a situation has a cost. It may be right, it may be absolutely right, and it may be necessary in many, many cases. But, in that circumstance, I think… there are a lot of people in the world that say that Jesus, for example, was anti-homosexual and that he was – and none of that is true, and none of that is provable in the New Testament, and I’m not talking about Leviticus and I’m not talking about early Bible and I’m not talking about the fact that more than 25,000 words have been changed in the King James edition and all of this stuff, but these things that people hold so sacred, the confusion that arises from that is being told that a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman or a man loving a man and a woman or whatever combination being there is either right or wrong because you’re being told by a pastor or the leaders of your church, is a very difficult thing to break down. I think what you have to do is at least put it out there so it’s visible, and so it becomes less and less deniable. And you know, people change over years, that’s the trouble with youth, is shit doesn’t move fast enough. “I need a decision now!”, and unfortunately, when you’re dealing with centuries of prejudice and centuries of un-enlightenment, I think that sometimes the best thing to do is reach as many people as possible and pose the question. And sometimes it’s essential to make a statement, absolutely, no question. It is essential to make a stand, in some circumstances. But to polarize a TV show, can be very disingenuous to those who need to go ask their own questions, who need to go say, “well, where does Jesus say this is wrong?” you know, if that’s your beliefs.

he also said, when we went off on a tangent about doom patrol:

MARK: There are issues that are being addressed here [on Doom Patrol] that are not being addressed on other shows, and yet again, we have the format, and I don’t know that Supernatural ever had the format because it was on the CW.

anywho, in conclusion, fuck the cw.

also, again, for all intents and purposes this was a dream I had :)))))))

[norahastuff]

penny for your thoughts on salmondean codependency ?

Sure. Fair warning it’s long (was longer but I stopped myself.)

I think it’s complicated in a show that’s had so many different showrunners because they’ve all handled Sam and Dean’s relationship very differently. In Kripke’s era (s1-5) there was a romanticization of the bond. Sure there was a lot of in-depth exploration of how they wound up at the place they were at, spoiler alert: it was all because of John and his obsessive crusade to find the demon that killed his wife. That’s all he cared about and as a result, Sam and Dean had to be everything to each other. But Kripke had no intention of dismantling that at any point because he was (and always had been) writing a tragedy. Gamble continued that too. There was no room for anyone else in their lives and it would always just be the two of them against the world. So Cas had to go. Bobby had to go.

(Actually, it's funny because Gamble didn't intend this at the time, her plan was to kill Cas off, but by Edlund creating the masterpiece that is The Man Who Would Be King, he not only saved Cas from being seen as a villain, but he also deepened Dean and Cas' relationship in such a profound way and inextricably linked the two of them emotionally. And since Cas was eventually brought back, that laid the foundation for a lot of what their relationship would become.)

Up until this point, there hadn’t really been any significant dismantling of perhaps the more unhealthy parts of Sam and Dean’s relationship. Enter Carver. He stripped things down and started to explore what drove these characters. What they wanted and why they couldn’t have it. It starts with Dean being mad at Sam for not looking for him in purgatory, which sets up the whole speech in the s8 finale of Sam’s guilt about letting Dean down, but the thing is, Dean was never honest with Sam about his year away either. He never told Sam he could have gotten out much sooner if he hadn’t stayed to find Cas. I mean Dean had assumed Sam was up there alone doing God knows what to try to bring him back, and yet still he stayed in Purgatory because things were clear there. He needed Cas. Anyway, I just find that interesting, but Cas isn’t a victim of Sam and Dean’s relationship in s8.

Who gets the honour of being cast aside? That would be Benny and Amelia, two characters they introduced in s8 specifically to highlight that Sam and Dean’s relationship doesn’t allow for anyone else to be a significant part of their life. I mean that’s nothing new, we’ve watched that happen many times before. Lisa even said as much to Dean. The thing is this time? It’s framed as a truly sad thing. That moment at the end of 8x10 when Dean has just ended things with Benny and Sam leaves Amelia, and they’re sitting alone drinking beer and watching tv is such a hollow empty moment. This is not what they want. But it’s the way things have to be.

I’m actually fascinated by Sam and Dean’s conversation in the church in the s8 finale. Not so much Dean’s assertion that there is no one else he would put before Sam, but more so what provokes it, which is Sam saying “who are you going to turn to instead of me. Another angel? Another vampire?” See the thing is Dean saying he would always put Sam first is not news. We know this and it’s not really an unhealthy statement in itself either. A lot of people would put their sibling above anything else, not less a sibling who you raised and is the most important person to you. But in this context? After what Sam said? It just highlights how unhealthy they are if Sam believes that Dean having other people in his life means he doesn’t love him enough. That he’s a disappointment to him. That’s so profoundly fucked up.

(Note, Dean tells Sam that he killed Benny for him but he doesn’t say anything about Cas. I think like I said before, this is because Cas and Dean’s relationship has largely existed out of the Sam and Dean stuff up to this point - Sam and Cas don’t even really have much of a relationship yet besides both of their connections to Dean.)

And then from here, things start getting steadily worse. But we also keep being shown how bad they are. Dean lying to Sam, taking away his free will by letting Gadreel possess him. Dean sending Cas away, Kevin dying. It’s all awful. The whole “there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you line” from 9x01 isn’t really said by Dean, it’s Gadreel, but that is how Dean feels. He does think that’s all he’s good for. And over the season we’re shown how much of himself and what he truly wants he’s had to give up because of his ingrained “Save Sammy” and “Sammy comes first” mentality. It’s always been this way for him. In 9x07 we see that he had found a happy home, a good father figure, and his first love, a first love might I add that he had to leave behind with no real explanation because Sam needed him, and Sam comes first.

I mean just one episode earlier we had him rushing out the door elated about seeing Cas and spending time with him, only for their time together to come to sad and melancholic end when Dean once again leaves Cas behind without any real explanation, because despite what he wants Sammy comes first. What he wants doesn’t matter.

See I think after the Gadreel stuff comes out is where the narrative starts to get a little wonky for me. You can clearly see that this was intended to be a shorter story that they ended up stretching out to a much longer one because of renewals. There’s also the fact that this is a formula show so they can’t necessarily be separated for longer than an episode or two. S10 is a rough one to get through at times, I think the themes still mostly hold up but it’s a rough one to get through.

S10 highlights all the connections that Dean has, Cas, Charlie, Crowley even, but Sam doesn’t really have those bonds in the same way.  For Sam it’s just Dean, so he goes down a reckless destructive “do anything to save Dean!” path and so many innocents pay the price, and ultimately with the release of The Darkness, the whole world.

They skirted right up to the edge of exploring just how toxic and dangerous their relationship had become in the season 10 finale.

DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A..a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world.

I can’t say evil is the right word, they were never evil, but they were wilfully blind to everything and everyone else when it came to saving each other. S10 tested my love for the show because after watching it, because there was certainly a feeling that the two of them had become the villains of this story. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a problem with that, it’s just after 2 seasons of this I can’t say I had a lot of faith that this was going to be properly addressed or if we were going to keep going in circles around it. Keep being shown, it’s bad and then nothing much being done to fix it. Your mileage may vary on how it was handled, but I think s11 did a relatively ok job considering it wasn’t the end of the story, and the show needed to keep going.

See from Dean’s side a lot of the codependency rests on 1. His father’s orders to always save Sammy 2. His low self-esteem where he sees himself as nothing but a blunt instrument. 3. His guilt at not being able to perfectly fulfil every familial role in Sam’s life 4. His belief that no one could choose to love him but family has to love you. 5. The unhealthy example of what it should look like to love someone that he got from John. You give up everything but them.

For Sam (and honestly it’s not as clear for me as Dean’s side is so feel free to correct me/disagree on this) 1. Everytime he’s tried to leave and create his own life it’s never ended well. 2. His guilt over wanting freedom and a normal life when he was younger (I’m referring specifically to Stanford era here) 3. His guilt over everything Dean has given up for him. 4. John. 5. Jess.

Ultimately it all comes down to isolation. They both had to be everything to each other, and the deeper they got into this fight, the more people that they lost, the tighter they clung to this notion of family and brothers. I think s11 (and 11x23 in particular) was an important turning point, both for Sam and Dean’s relationship, as well as for them as individuals. Because they weren’t alone there anymore. Cas was there. Sam let Dean walk to his death. Of course, it would devastate him, but he knew it was what had to be done. And he didn’t walk out of that bar and go back to the bunker alone. He had Cas, he had someone who cared about him and wanted to help him and talk to him. Sure Dean asked Cas to take care of Sam for him (you know after Cas offered to walk to his death with him) but Sam let him. He let him be there for him. We didn’t get to see much before the BMOL showed up and blasted Cas away, but still, we saw enough.

I think that’s a significant difference to note why their relationship was different in the Dabb era. It wasn’t just them anymore. Cas was an important member of their family and given a level of importance he’d never been given before and couldn’t have been when the story they were telling was of the dangers of their codependency. Mary was back. Eventually, Jack would become a part of their unit too. Just the two of them wasn’t enough for them anymore. This is made abundantly clear with all of Dean’s desperate attempts to get Cas to stay in s12, followed by his inability to keep going when they lose Cas and Mary in s13. Similarly, Sam really struggles when they lose Jack and fail to get Mary back later in the season.

Another big moment is Dean letting Sam go alone to lead the hunters against the BMOL in 12x22 while he stays back to try and reach Mary. Like he tells Mary, he’s had to be a brother, a father and a mother to Sam and he never stopped seeing him as his kid, but in that moment he makes a choice. He lets Sam take charge and he shows that he trusts him and believes in him. He knows he can handle it.

Sometimes it’s not even a character growth thing. Sometimes having other people there stops you from making destructive choices even though that’s still your first instinct. I’m thinking specifically of 13x21 after Sam was killed. Dean would have run headlong into that nest of vampires and got himself torn apart, but Cas was there to stop him. He was able to make him see reason.

Basically, I think that for a long time, they thought the only relationship they could have was each other, which then became a self-fulfilling prophecy because their desperate attempts to keep each other around led to them losing the people around them. They eventually started to learn that that wasn’t true, they could have more, they were allowed to want more, and that it wasn’t an either-or situation. Dean didn’t have to choose between Sam and Cas. They didn’t have to choose between each other or Jack. The same goes for Mary. Different relationships can coexist without threatening each other, and not say that their relationship in s12-15 was all smooth sailing, but it was certainly so very different from everything that came before.

(There’s maybe a point to be made about how they didn’t have anyone or anything in the finale and how that relates to the story we got, but honestly I have no idea what the intention was with any of the choices made in that episode so I’ll leave it at that for now.)

[starrybouquet]

Star Trek, Stargate, and the Colors of Fandom

Like so many TNG fans the world over, the cast announcement for season 3 of Star Trek: Picard had me stunned, amazed, and then insanely over-the-top excited.

The entire TNG crew back together?!

It's the stuff of us fans' dreams.

When I need a serotonin boost, you bet I'll be playing that little preview video on repeat. (And reading co-showrunner Terry Matalas' tweets, which have been hilarious, if you haven't seen them.)

But my brain is still...my brain, and so of course it decided to insert its depressed, anxious thoughts into what should, by any measure, be 1 minute and 23 seconds of happiness.

If you're so excited about this, my depressed brain asked, why are you not at all excited about a new Stargate show?

Why are you so excited? my anxious brain asked. Aren't you worried they'll ruin everything you loved about TNG? You didn't like season 1 of Picard--remember?

My brain is depressed. And anxious. But it asks hard questions.

Really, I probably should have just ignored those questions. But it's my brain, and I can't really ignore them, so I started thinking. And this is what I came up with.

There are different colors of fandom.

Stargate is burnt orange. It's a blaze, burning, steady but true.

It's love and creation.

It's betrayal.

It grew from canon, yes, but really, my love for Stargate is its own thing now. I've fleshed out "my" versions of Jack and Teal'c and Sam and Daniel more fully than anyone could, in eight-ish seasons of TV. I write about them, I dream about them. I'm active in the fandom, and the community is better than the show. It's gotten me through a pandemic and given me friends and a writing hobby and a hundred photos of Richard Dean Anderson saved in my phone, and really, I'm grateful.

The betrayal I feel whenever I try to watch Avalon and see Cameron Mitchell, over and over, is both a blessing and a curse.

It's a curse because there's canon I cannot in good conscience like. At all. (I know many do enjoy it, and that's fine.) I waffle between disliking it and hating it and feeling like I'm an outsider among people who will just take canon as gospel, whether they like it or dislike it or just think it's meh. (There's a whole rant somewhere in there about how stupidly uncreative people are, trained to just follow the pack and too idiotic to do anything else. Not all of them, but some of them. But that's a post for another day.)

That betrayal is a blessing, too. That's what I realized when I sat down and tried to really think about the questions I was asking myself. The betrayal of canon is a blessing because it's the spark that causes me to write all the canon-divergent fluff deep in my heart. Canon-divergent angst, too, though that's much more difficult for me. It's a blessing that I should really be thankful for, because it forced me to create those versions of characters of which I am so proud. It forced me to write about them.

(I write about them far less than I'd like. But I do write about them.)

So I'm wary of a new show. The reasons I'm wary deserve their own post (there's one that's been sitting in my drafts for awhile--maybe it's time to release it into the world?) but really, I just need to let go of my wariness and embrace what Stargate has become to me. More than a fandom. Less than a complete show.

Anyway, Stargate is burnt orange. A blessing, a curse. Humor and loyalty and the campfire reflecting off four best friends who are closer than family. The color of the trees lining Jack's lake in the fall. The color of the sunrise Jack sees in Sam's smile.

TNG, though--TNG is indigo.

Calming. Serene. The color of royalty. Loyalty, too. (heh, a rhyme!)

TNG is royal. Untouchable, because somehow, despite the 80s spandex and the weird season 6-7 plots and the slightly problematic tone of some season 1-2 episodes, it is perfectly...complete.

I love every second of it.

Maybe it's nostalgia. (I spent so much of my childhood on the TNG DVD set.) Maybe I'm more willing to overlook the episodes I don't like. Maybe I--and I'm cringing as I type this--care about it less?

Yeah, that last one isn't true. What is true is that I really do love every second: the cringey seconds for being the cringe that washes away the seriousness, and the serious seconds for being some of the best sci-fi--scratch that, some of the best TV--that have ever been made.

Anyway, somehow I'm not too worried about TPTB ruining TNG. I've already made my peace with the fact that I'm always going to be on a different axis than most of the (active) Star Trek fandom. And, like I said, TNG is royal. It will stand like a statue, impervious to whatever we try to throw on top of it. It will stand there, and judge us, and that will be that.

Don't get me wrong, I'll definitely be disappointed if this reunion doesn't go the way I want it to. Somehow, though, I'm not so very bothered by that idea.

If I don't like it, I'll go back and watch All Good Things and imagine my own future for the best starship crew ever to grace a screen.

I hope I love it. But--sorry for being repetitive--TNG is indigo. The prospect of being fed a story I don't like doesn't burn the way burnt-orange SG1 does.

TNG is indigo like the depths of the ocean. The recesses of the night sky. Indigo like the surety of Picard's orders, the loyalty in Riker's grip on the observation room chair, the tilt of Guinan's hat and the steadiness of Crusher's hands. TNG is the color of Geordi's beloved warp core, glowing against the shiny 80s paneling of Engineering.

Maybe this reverses. Maybe I hate season 3 of Picard, and my indignation blazes up into red-hot fandom-ing. Maybe SG1 cools into cool seafoam green and there aren't any stories left in me. It's happened before, for other fandoms. It's the cycle of fandom life.

I don't know the future, but I'm going forward with a little more clarity on how I see my fandoms, and a little more color in my day. <3

[joviewinchester]

Hey! So this is a Supernatural My Babysitter’s a Vampire crossover requested by @the-fifth-marauder101 The request wasn’t super specific so I kind of just ran with it. Jack’s a bit younger in this for the sake of the story. And I know that the timeline is off and stuff but like don’t @ me about it please. I know it’s off. Also this is a reader insert because, ya know, that’s literally all I write. Lol, but anyways, I hope you like it, and keep those requests coming!

Another school. Another town. Another day. That’s how it always went. Avoid making friends at all costs. Well, she had Jack at least.

“What are we here for again?” Y/N asked sighing.

“Your dad said something about vampires or werewolves. They don’t know what it is yet. Said something’s off with this one.” Jack replied glancing over at a group of whispering teens.

“What do you think their deal is?” Erica asked eyeing both Y/N and Jack.

“They don’t look like siblings, at the very least not biological ones.” Sarah responded.

“I don’t know, but can I just say, the girl is hot. Like hotter than anyone I’ve ever laid eyes on. Like if I had to choose between her and a young Carrie Fisher, I’d choose her.” Benny said.

“No way. You’re joking right?” Ethan asked.

“No. I never joke about a babe.” Benny said seriously.

“I don’t know. Personally I’d love to sink my teeth into either of them.” Erica smirked.

Y/N looked from the group to Jack in confusion. “Is it just me or do we have a literal fanclub?”

“I wouldn’t call them a fanclub. They’re just…unusually interested.” Jack responded.

“Should we introduce ourselves? Don’t get me wrong. I know we probably won’t stay for very long but…I just…it would be nice to make friends for once, you know?” She asked Jack as she looked at them, or more specifically looked at Benny.

“I mean, how could it hurt right?” They approached the group.

“Dude they’re coming over here.” Benny said while slapping Ethan’s arm.

“Yeah. I know. I can see dude.”

“Hi.” Y/N said shyly.

Jack stepped in at that point. “Hello. My name is Jack and this is my friend Y/N.” He introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Sarah and this is Ethan, Benny, and Erica.” Sarah smiled.

Benny had a dumbstruck look on his face. “Excuse him. He gets nervous around girls he thinks are pretty.” Ethan said.

Benny looked at him with a glare. “Dude.” He whisper shouted at him. They then had a small slap fight.

“Alright you two are embarrassing yourselves. Hi, as Sarah said, I’m Erica, and I would love to take you under my wing, Y/N was it? Please let me give you a makeover tonight. You have so much potential if we removed the flannel and the old leggings.”

“Sorry. She’s straightforward like that. She doesn’t mean in a rude way or anything she just thinks your pretty and wants to do your makeup.” Sarah said.

“I guess I could come over.” Y/N said nervously. Jack have her a look and lowered his voice.

“Y/N, Dean said to come straight home after school, and that we can’t go out. You can’t. If you leave on my watch, Dean and Cas will, what is it that you say? ‘rip me a new one’” He quoted.

“Who’s Dean?” Ethan asked.

“My dad. He’s just a little bit overprotective, and if you don’t want me to go out without you, then just come with me.” Y/N said.

“So, you two like live together?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah. Our dads work together. It’s a whole thing.” Y/N said.

“Anyways, I’ll talk to him if he’s home and if not I’ll text him and let him know it shouldn’t be a big deal.” She said.

“Great. Sarah you’re coming too right?” Erica asked.

“Actually, I have to babysit Ethan and Jane tonight.”

“No problem we’ll just go over there.”

“Sarah’s your babysitter?” Jack asked.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but it’s only because my mom doesn’t trust me to babysit my little sister. Benny you’re still coming over to play that new zombie game right?”

“Like I would miss that.”

“Think we have room for another player?” Ethan asked.

“Not if you’re talking about Rory.” Benny complained.

“I’m clearly talking about Jack, Benny.”

Sarah and Erica both rolled their eyes at their antics. “Come on, Y/N. We’ll walk you to class. Honestly, I swear you geeks almost scared her off.” Erica said.

Y/N waved goodbye at Benny, Ethan, and Jack, linking her arms with Erica and Sarah.

The bell then rang. “Do you guys know where Mr. G’s class is?” Jack asked.

“Yeah we have him for first period too. Follow us.” Ethan said.

School seemed to go by like a breeze with their new friends by their sides. Before they knew it, they were all heading out the doors.

“Alright. Jack and I need to head out, but we’ll meet you guys at Ethan’s house later. See ya.” Y/N said. There was a series of byes and Jack and Y/N hopped into the Jeep they had jacked from the bunker.

Erica left shortly after that saying something about how she needed to pack some clothes and makeup for later.

“I should give her a love potion.” Benny said.

“Do you remember how that turned out last time? I still have nightmares.” Ethan shuddered.

“Benny, don’t let this get to your head, but I think you might actually have a chance with her. She stared at you throughout the entirety of biology class. You should just ask her to see a movie with you or something.” Sarah advised.

“Yes. I need to be more like Han Solo. God, she’d be such a pretty Princess Leia.” Benny sighed dreamily.

“Okay lover boy. You wanna stand out here all day? We’re practically the only ones still here. Your grandma is gonna get mad if you make her wait any longer.” Sarah said glancing at the SUV Benny’s grandma sat in.

“Right. See you guys later!” Benny called.

“Bye!” They said in sync.

“I’ll see you later?” Ethan asked.

“Duh. If I want to get paid I don’t really have a choice.” Sarah joked. Ethan waved awkwardly and jogged to his mom’s car.

“Dorks.” She muttered to herself a slight smile on her face.

Y/N and Jack entered the place one of their hunter friends had loaned them and saw Sam researching by himself.

“Hey, Sam! Do you know when dad is gonna be back?” Y/N asked.

“Um…not really, but it probably won’t be for a few hours. He and Cas are interviewing at the moment. Why? Do you need something? Maybe I can help.”

“Well, Jack and I were wondering if we could go over to a friend’s house around seven ish? We’re just hanging out, nothing big.”

Sam looked up from his laptop. “You guys made friends?” He asked.

“Yeah. I know. I know. We probably won’t stay here, but it’s hard avoiding people everywhere we go and they’re really nice.” Y/N explained.

“Y/N, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I think it’s good that you guys are making friends, and I think it’s fine if you go out as long as you’re back by 10:30 or Dean will flip.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You’re the best uncle in the world.”

“Do you need any help with research?” Jack asked.

“No. It’s fine. You probably have homework to do.” Sam replied. Jack then headed to his room with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Sam?” Y/N asked sitting across from him.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“You know that you can tell me anything Y/N.”

“I don’t…I don’t think that I can keep doing this.” She sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“The whole moving towns constantly and the saving people hunting things…I just don’t want to keep moving around. I know that it’s stupid. You’re saving the world. All of you, but I feel like I haven’t even lived. I’ve never really gotten to stop and smell the roses you know?”

“Y/N, it’s not like we can just leave you in a town by yourself. You’re only sixteen, but you’re in luck. We’re going to be here awhile. There are multiple cases in this one town and they all seem different. I don’t know what’s going on here. It’s like a Supernatural beacon.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with research?” Y/N asked.

“No. You have homework too I’m assuming.”

“I finished all of mine in study hall. I’m available for four hours.”

Sam sighed. “Fine. You can help. I’m just looking through lore right now to try and figure out the first case.”

After about three and a half hours of researching, they both still came up with nothing. Y/N groaned.

“Are you sure there isn’t like more than one type of vampire?” She asked.

“Not according to any hunters I’ve met.” Sam said.

“Well, we didn’t think angels existed at one point and look at Cas. Look at Jack. We got an angel and a nephilim living in our house. Not to mention me. I’m a freak of nature.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. If we haven’t encountered one before, I don’t know why we would now.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go upstairs and grab a few things, then Jack and I are leaving. I’ll see you later Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname but told her goodbye nonetheless and went back to his research. Y/N grabbed her small bag that contained hand sanitizer, chapstick, lotion, a first aid kit and a pocket knife and knocked on Jack’s door.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Yeah let’s go before we’re stopped by Dean and Cas getting home.” Jack said.

They drove over to Ethan’s house and everyone else had already arrived. Y/N knocked on the door to see Benny with his mouth full of marshmallows. Y/N gasped in excitement.

“Are you guys seeing who can fit the most marshmallows in their mouth?! I bet I can win! I want in on this!” She exclaimed rushing past Jack and in the door.

“What’s the record I’m trying to beat?” Y/N asked Jane.

“It’s unclear. They argue all the time about which got the highest amount and what the highest amount is. I think it’s 176. You don’t need to waste your time here though. You should come play dress up with me and Sarah. I promise it’ll be much more fun.” Jane ranted grabbing her hand.

“Come on Y/N it’ll be way more fun.” Sarah joked. Y/N shrugged.

“You know what? Why not let’s go. You coming, Erica?”

“Playing ‘dress up’ with you is literally the only reason why I’m here. Of course I’m coming.” Erica replied grabbing her bag. They all rushed upstairs leaving the boys behind.

The marshmallows fell out of Benny’s mouth as he was watching Y/N go upstairs. Ethan fist pumped in victory.

“I win!” He yelled through a mouthful of marshmallows.

“Hey! Dude that is so not fair!”

“It’s completely fair! Just don’t get distracted next time and you might win.” Ethan said back smugly.

“Whatever. You guys wanna watch Star Wars or something?” Benny asked.

“I don’t know. Y/N might get mad if we watch it without her.” Jack half joked. Benny looked at him in exasperation.

“She likes Star Wars too?! What’s next?!”

Meanwhile, upstairs Erica had already began using Y/N as a human doll.

“Those dorks are literally not going to know what to do with themselves when they see you.” Erica praised.

“You look really pretty, Y/N. Dare I say, prettier than Debbie Dazzle.” Jane complimented.

“Is that a compliment? What’s a Debbie Dazzle?” Y/N asked Sarah.

“You mean you never had a Debbie Dazzle doll growing up?” Sarah asked. Y/N shook her head no and thought of her childhood.

“We…well, we’ve always moved around a lot, and I matured earlier than most kids. Never really got into that stuff, besides wouldn’t have anyone to play with it with anyways.”

“What about your dad or your mom?” Erica asked while brushing Y/N’s hair.

“My mom?” She asked mostly to herself. It’s not like she could straight up say that her mom was God’s sister. “My mom left us when I was young. I barely remember her.” She said. When she was born she automatically aged up to thirteen, similarly to Jack.

That was the end of that conversation. They didn’t want to pry into her personal life. Even if it felt like they’d known her for years, the truth of it was that they were practically strangers.

“Okay. All done.” Erica smiled. Y/N looked in the mirror Jane had in her room. She was shocked to say the least to see what was staring back at her. For the first time in her life, she felt normal. She felt like a regular teenage girl, not a demi-god who hunted monsters.

“Wow. I look-“

“Beautiful.” Sarah, Erica, and Jane all said at once.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2784047

“I was gonna say normal, but yeah.” She laughed.

There were a few seconds of silence then Y/N suddenly jumped out of her seat. “Is that the Star Wars theme song?!” She exclaimed. She started heading downstairs.

“What a cute little nerd.” Erica said.

“Can we go downstairs to get a snack?” Jane asked Sarah.

“Sure but you have to be in bed by 9:00 remember?” “9:30?” “Fine.”

When Y/N got downstairs she plopped on the couch in between Jack and Benny.

Benny glanced at her and did a double take. “Woah. Erica did a really good job…not that you weren’t pretty before. You’re really pretty, either way. I’m so sorry. I’m totally rambling again.”

“Are you done?” She asked jokingly.

“Yeah…well, actually,” she laughed. “So no then?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go see a movie sometime…with me. I’ll even suffer through the new Dusk if you want.”

“No way are we watching Dusk. Pick me up Friday. We’re watching the new Avengers movie.”

Benny elbowed Ethan. “Dude. Did you hear that?”

“Yes, Benny, congratulations.” Y/N’s phone abruptly began to ring.

“Shoot. I gotta take this.” She got up and walked into the other room.

“Hello?” She asked. “Y/N? Where the hell are you? I told you and Jack to come home and stay home after school. Sam is not your dad. I am. You could’ve at least called and asked.” Dean grumbled.

“And you would’ve told me no and I would’ve been mad and you would’ve been mad and it would just not be fun at all so…”

“Are there boys there?” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Does is matter?”

“Yes. It matters a lot.”

“You don’t know. I could be a lesbian.” She stated.

“Cut the crap, kid. You and Jack need to get your sorry asses home or youre grounded. Both of you.”

Y/N ignored that statement. “Well, I’d love to talk more, but I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Y/N Elaine Winchester I swear to Chuck if you hang up…”

“Calm down. We’ll be home in like twenty minutes. Bye.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

“Jack, we have to go. Dean is flipping out.” She said walking back into the living room.

“Did you just refer to your dad by his first name?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah I did. Because I’m mad. It’s a symbol of defiance…even if he can’t hear it. Anyways, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Y/N, with annoyance, walked into the kitchen and said goodbye to Erica, Sarah, and Jane as well, before leaving with Jack trailing behind her.

Once they got home, they were greeted by all three hunters still sitting at the table researching.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Dean asked in disgust.

“Clothes. Goodnight. Good riddance. Love you partially and all that jazz. I’m going to bed. I have school.” She said running upstairs not letting anyone else get a word in.

The three men sighed. “Were there boys there?” Dean asked Jack seriously as he had Y/N on the phone.

“Yeah. Just two. Y/N has a date Friday.” Jack responded casually.

“She what?!”

“Anyways goodnight. Good riddance. Love you. And all that jazz as Y/N would say. See you tomorrow.” Jack repeated charging up the stairs.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Come As You Are

Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request, 

“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut” 

I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex

Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!

A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all. 

“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red. 

“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face. 

“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” 

“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination. 

“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen. 

“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.” 

“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself. 

Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man. 

Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want. 

“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words. 

“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous. 

Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in. 

The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness. 

Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier. 

The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.

The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion. 

“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.

“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off. 

“Oh, come on sweetheart,” 

“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well. 

The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her. 

There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight. 

“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up. 

“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again. 

Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself. 

“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion. 

“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin. 

Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.” 

“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”

Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…

“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.” 

“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver. 

“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip. 

“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.” 

A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. 

A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap. 

“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.  

“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex. 

“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.” 

“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm. 

“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.

“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question. 

“Dean, what the hell just happened?” 

A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again. 

“I--”

“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.” 

“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room. 

“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him. 

“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant. 

“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”

“Of?” He urged her to continue.

“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt. 

“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.” 

“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror. 

“Do we--” 

“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms. 

“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips. 

Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking. 

A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?” 

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else. 

“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again. 

“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.” 

“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud. 

“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space. 

“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her. 

“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.

“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her. 

“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.

Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​

[theheartchoice]

post-15.19 coda  |  dean/cas  |  dean + sam  |  1.3k  |  ao3 

"We're all set here."

Dean hums as Sam brushes his hands together in his periphery. He didn't even realise they were so close to finishing the set up. 

"Now it's just a matter of timing." 

Timing. Cas had the worst timing. Saying something like that at a time like that, leaving Dean with more questions than answers. 

"Dean?" 

"..Huh?" 

"You okay? You spaced-out, for a minute there." 

"Yeah, I'm just—" he waves a hand around, trying and failing to capture what he's feeling. 

"Look, about Jack," Sam steps closer, voice dipping to a tone that means sympathy and support, the kind that gets a work out on a case. "I know things with you two have always been kind of complicated, and I can imagine that him not bringing Cas back has only made things harder—" 

"—Woah, Sam. No. I get it—really. He's hands off, y'know? Probably for the best. Meddling was Chuck's problem, it's how everything got so screwed up in the first place." Not that he's palming all his mistakes off on bad writing, but still. Jack not intervening is a good thing, in a way. 

"Yeah, I guess. Makes you wonder if he might not condone what we're doing here, you know?" 

Dean hums again. "But you'd think if he let anyone have one more get-out-of-jail-free card it'd be Cas. Who knows, maybe Jack's rootin' for us."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam chuckles. "Don't worry. It's gonna work."

That's sort of what Dean's worried about. 

"You seem nervous."

Maybe Sam could help. 

"You sure you're okay?" 

"I just—" how does he even phrase it? "When Cas was—I mean, before he saved me, he.. said some stuff." 

"What kind of stuff?" 

"Big stuff. Deathbed confession, type-stuff." 

"Confession? What did he—" and realisation dawns on Sam, because of-fucking-course it does. "Oh."

No use hiding it now. "Yeah, 'oh'."

"So. He finally told you." 

Wait what? "What d'you mean finally?" 

"Dean." And there's so much in just that one word. "Cas has been in love with you for.. well, I don't know how long, exactly. A while, I think. Years." 

Dean's lungs empty in a rush. "Okay, see, that's the thing: he's an Angel, Sam."

"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that."

Dean sends him a bitch face but Sam just smiles. "Tha—it's a human emotion. Angels don'—they can't feel that way." Right?

"Serafina did."

"Pretty sure she and Adam from the freakin' Garden of Eden knew each other for more than a few years. More like eons." 

"Since when does time determine love?" Sam gets a look Dean remembers from when he'd talk about the past, about Jess. Probably not something he wants to bring up right now, seeing as how Eileen's right outside. 

"Cas is my best friend, but he's literally older than the world." 

"So it's an age-thing?" 

"Wh—? No!" Dean takes a deep breath, to steady himself, steady his train of thought. "I know Cas is an Angel, okay? I mean, there's the mojo, and the not-sleeping, and he saw the first fish crawl outta the ocean—the whole nine. That's not what's botherin' me." Sam waits patiently. "I know he cares. I just don't know if.." If he feels the same way I do. "If he really feels the way he thinks he does. About me, about love, an'.." Dean swallows. "Love."

For all his tact in handling witnesses during a case (people who're at their most vulnerable), Sam fucking snickers. 

Dean glares daggers; half-hurt, half not surprised because isn't that how little brothers are supposed to act? They laugh at their sibling's relationship troubles? But Sam gets it, because his face softens. 

"Dean. Maybe Angels do feel things differently from Humans. In fact, it's pretty much guaranteed. But Cas has always been different from the rest of them. And I've been here over the years, you know. I've seen it." 

"Seen what?" 

"The way he looks at you. And I never thought it was some big secret, I mean—you saw it too! And you looked at him the same way." 

"Did not!" Sam gives him that: c'mon Dean you can't fool me here face, and he let's it go. Sam's probably not wrong. 

"What did you say? After he told you."

"I.." Nothing. He told Cas—begged him not to do it that way—but everything was happening so fast, and there was a decade's worth of doubt stopping Cas' words—those three huge words—from sinking in. Even after, as everything finally hit him and he curled up on the dungeon floor and cried his freakin' eyes out, even then, even now, he still doesn't know what he would've said if he had the moment again. "There was no time."

Sam nods. "Well, now there is. You guys can talk—"

"—What if I'm right?" Sam's brow crinkles at that. "I mean, no offence Sam, but I know him better than you do. What if.. what Cas feels, is.." he trails off, unable to get the words out. 

"..Are you worried he's not in love with you, or that he is?" 

One sounds better than the other. Both sound kinda terrifying. 

Sam sighs, and it's almost pitiful.

"I don't wanna lose him." As a friend, most of all. Because if Cas misunderstood the whole love-confession thing being for non-brotherly love then Dean won't say anything, obviously, but it'll hurt. Cas will be back but things will be different—worse actually, because that whole thing with The Empty made him confront his own feelings (or stop suppressing them, at least). Cas isn't just a friend to him, and it's not familial either. But can they go back to being 'just friends' after everything? Can Dean? 

"Dean, no matter what happens you're not going to lose him. Just look at everything the two of you have already been through."

Now there's a distracting and somewhat depressing train of thought. Apocalyptic times can't tear them apart, not for good, and even death is nothing new. It would be a painful joke of cosmic proportions if the thing that actually ruins their friendship is love. 

"Do you love him?" Dean's head snaps up to meet Sam's eyes. "Are you in love with Cas?" 

Eileen returns before he can think of a way to deflect, cutting off anymore talk about it. 

She gestures to Sam and he tells Dean, "It's time. You ready?" 

Dean's not sure what he would've said but the truth is best kept for Cas' ears anyway. And Sam's right. They have time. They can talk, and hopefully they'll figure things out and where they stand with as little heartache as possible. There's no avoiding it, not now, not after everything. He nods, steeling his resolve. "Yeah. I'm ready." 

At least he knows Chuck is no longer pulling their strings and that whatever happens from here on out it really is just him and Cas. The thought never even crossed his mind that Cas' confession might be Chuck's doing. Chuck didn't care enough about him to bother, and besides: Cas was always the rebel against God's story.

Dean steps over the threshold of painted sigils, taking his place in the centre of the circle. As Sam starts chanting he feels his worry over the truth of Cas' words ebb away and hope flow in to supplant it. The phantom scar of a handprint on his shoulder from when Cas rescued from Hell seems to flare to life and brand itself back into Dean's flesh, and the only thing going through his mind is: what if Cas really is in love with me? He smiles at the thought. 

As the glowing portal tears into existence before him he remembers something else Cas said to him, back when Dean was questioning his whole reality. Cas was steadfast and sincere as ever as he held Dean's eye and told him that they were real. And for the first time Dean knows that to be true. He feels it in his very soul. 

With his hand raised he moves towards the portal and braces for some kind of inter-dimensional shift, but he's not scared. This is the right thing to do, for both of them. 

Time to grip an Angel tight and raise him from perdition. 

[itsthestutterforme]

Your Fault (Supernatural)

Summary: Mary Winchester had died and Jack is in the wind. Sam and Dean just finished burying her and Dean is furious. He takes it out on Y/N and Cas, which leads Y/N attempts to take her life. Dean manages to save her before she follows through. He tries to comfort her but she refuses, so they bring someone else.

Warnings: mentions of self harm, mentions of suicide, attempted suicide, mentions of suicidal thoughts, please do not read if any of these trigger you. And please check up on your friends. You never know what they are going through and refuse to tell anyone about.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam x reader, Castiel x reader, Jack x reader, Bobby x reader

--

You continue to pace back and forth in the study. "Pacing won't help anything," Cas states as he sits down at the table. "It helps my nerves, that's all that's matters right now." "How are you holding up?" Cas says, looking to you with concern weighing on his ocean blue eyes.

"What if they hate us, Cas?" "He can't hate you, Y/N. You're like family." "No, you're like family. I'm just.. I don't know what I am. You heard Dean, he said we were dead to him." "He's just in pain and he needs us," "We'll see." The door creaks open and the sound of the door closing echoes through the bunker.

Sam's face weighed with sadness, his forehead is absent of it's normal concern creases and his eyes were red and puffy. Dean on the other hand, his face was a neutral but the vertical crease between his eyebrows dipped. "Dean," you say, trying to hold his hand but he pulls away from you sharply. "Don't," he says before pushing past you.

"He just needs time," Sam says before approaching you. "Sam, I.. I'm so sorry." Cas says. "I know," Sam says softly before returning his gaze back to you. "I'll go check on Dean," Cas says before leaving the room. More tears escape Sam's eyes and you take his hand to lead his to his room. He follows you go the room and you close the door when you both lock in.

He sits on the edge of the bed and combs a hand through his hair. You stand in front of him and he looks up at you as he unravels before you eyes. You sit down next to him and his lips quivers. "Come here," you say, opening your arms and he leans into your shoulder. Your hold the back of his head and sobs into you.

The more time passed, the more intense his sobs became. Tears prick your eyes out of guilt and you lean your head against his temple. You were the support role for the Winchesters. The sound board of sorts. Even Mary came to your help for advice when she messed things up with the boys. She said that you knew them better than she did, well, the adult versions anyway.

You met the Winchesters through Bobby when you assisted with stopping the Leviathans and you just kept running into each other in various states. You were convinced that they were stalking you and they were convinced you were stalking them. You did not have any close family telling you to stop hunting, all you really had was Bobby. So you continued to find and go on hunts.

Soon enough, you ended up tagging along with the Winchesters and grew closer with each hunt. Sam is more in tune with his emotions, unlike Dean. Dean sees showing emotions as weak. Any other emotion outside of anger is rejected by him.

He was pissed at you and Cas, you knew it. And what's scares you is that you've never seen him that angry before, let alone at you.

The look he gave when he said if Mary was dead, that you were dead to him, sent chills down your spine. You love and depend on these boys. You would hope that the feeling would be reciprocated, but you're starting to question that. After thirty minutes of holding Sam and drawing circles on his scalp, he falls asleep.

You gently pull yourself away and kiss his forehead before quietly leaving. "You can't keep pushing yourself away, Dean," "Enough of this! Stop pretending to care! If you cared, you would have told me that there was something wrong with Jack ages ago!" "Hey, what's with all the yelling?" You ask, walking into the study.

"Sam is finally sleeping," you add. "How could he sleep after we just buried our mother?" "Hours of crying can drain your energy, believe me." You answer vaguely, not wanting to expose yourself.

"Why are you guys even here? It's clear what side you're on," "There are no sides here, Dean." "Yes there are. There's our side and there is Jack's side. Obviously, you're on his."

"You hated him from the beginning like some how he could control who his father was," Castiel defends. "And clearly I was right because she killed my mom!" Dean yells. "We don't even know the full story, Dean." You say. "I don't care about the whole story. It's about an eye for an eye now." "Dean, come on,"

"No, I think you guys should leave. Go somewhere else, anywhere else besides here." "You know that something goes wrong with the plan. Something always goes wrong," Castiel says. "Yeah, and why does that's something always seems to be you?" Dean snaps. "The angel with the bent halo and the leech overtook their stay," he adds.

"You don't mean that," you whimper with tears threatening your eyes. "I mean every single word." Dean snarks as he nears you. "Since Bobby introduced us, you were like a parasite trying to find it's host in us. No one else wanted you so you thought that we did. Sammy may have made you think that you're needed here but you're just a burgen. And that's all you ever will be," Dean spits.

A sharp pain pierced through your heart and you felt like you were going to be sick. "And you--" "Enough, Dean. You've said enough," Castiel snaps, knowing you were barely holding it together.

"I'll be gone by morning," you say softly before walking into your room. You close the door and lock the door behind you. Your eyes fall to the drawer where you hide your thin razor.

Everytime you relapse, you make the same promise to yourself saying that this is the last time and things will get better. But truthfully, things have only gotten worse and now you question if there's even a point from refraining. You slowly approach the drawer and open the top hatch to reveal the razor.

You take it's thin presence in your hand and smooth your thumb over it. You walk to the bathroom to take off your pants and pull down your underwear a little to see the other faint scars litter your butt and thighs.

You sigh and look at yourself like the filthy, disgusting scar that you were. Just as you were about to dig the razor in when I hear the door knob jiggle. "Y/N, it's me." Cas calls from the other side of the door.

The sweat from your palm makes the razor slicks and it slides right out of your hands. "Wait, no!" You watch helplessly as the razor falls down the unnaturally large drain. "Y/N, is everything alright?" Cas askss. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a minute," you call but fear got the best of Cas. He used his wings to fly into the bathroom and he sees your scars.

You quickly pull up your pants and buckle them. He opens his mouth to speak but you go off on a frantic tangent. "Castiel please don't tell them. If they find out that I'm doing this, they'll... they'll look at me like I'm some broken toy that needs fixing." "You are so much more than just a toy, Y/N," "It doesn't matter," "Stop dismissing yourself,"

"What can I say? I've been dismissed all my life, so I try to beat it to the punch." His face softens and he steps closer to you. "How long has this been going on?" "Since Bobby died,"

"That was yea-" "I know it was years ago but the pain is still fresh. I never got the chance to actually mourn him because I was busy helping the boys."

"Just please don't tell them," "Okay." You lean into his chest and he puts his head on top of yours as he hold you. He's less awkward than the first time I hugged him. "I'll pack my stuff tonight but can you drop me off in Boston. I've always wanted to go there." You ask. "Of course, if that's what you want." "Well what I want, I can't have. So this is the best alternative,"

"What do you want?" He asks, pulling away a little. "To escape," "Escape from the bunker or escape the world?" It's amazing how fast he catches on things now. He's come a long way from before. "Both," "Y/N-" "I'm fine, I'll be fine." "I'm sorry but I don't believe you. You've been suffering in silence while Dean takes out his suffering on you, it's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Castiel. But if you really care about me, then you won't tell them and you'll let me leave. You'll let me escape," you say pushing on his chest. "Promise me," you add. "I promise," he says reluctantly. "Good," you walk back into the room and take out your duffel bags.

You can feel his stare on you but continue to pack. "You deserve better than this," "I'm not too sure about that. Hey, you mind stopping by the grocery store to pick up some snacks?" You ask. He eyes you suspiciously before saying, "Alright." He opens the door and walks out. You wait until the bunker door closes to pull out your laptop and scroll through your files until you come across ImSorry.mp3.

You click on it and look at yourself talking. This wasn't the first time you've had these deep, dark thoughts. But this is the first time they're winning. This seems like the best way to stop your pain. It'll be painless. You wait a few minutes to become one with your intentions.

A shaky breath leaves your lips before standing from the bed. You press pause on the video and activate the algorithm you created to send out the mp3 file an hour from now.

You should be gone by then. You close the laptop and advance towards the door. You walk past the kitchen and through the study when you hear Dean say, "Where are you going?" You stop in your tracks, careful not to let a sob slip. You take a deep breath before walking up the stairs to go to the garage.

"Y/N, wait," he says. You close the door and pick a random car in the garage to take out. You slowly drive out to the nearest bridge. You pull off to the side and put the car in park.

You hop outside and hold onto the ledge as you peer over. The water gushes and hits the massive rocks on the sides. Judging by the height of the bridge, it would kill you on impact.

You inhale sharply before hiking one of your legs over the ledge. You swing the other leg over and cautiously stand up on the ledge. Strong gusts of wind push and pull your hair every which way. You open your arms and close your eyes as you let the wind tug your body closer to the water.

Your feet stayed planted on the concrete ledge and you inhale the wet, salty air from the water below. "I'm sorry, Sam," you whisper. You hear a familiar hum of an engine. You look over your shoulder to see Dean getting out of the car. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing!" Dean yells.

You return your gaze back to the water and you move one foot off the ledge. "Damn it, I didn't mean anything I said. I.. I can't loose you too, please." You turn away from him to hide your tears. "Please, Y/N." "It's time that I be with Bobby, now Dean," "No!" You lean forward and lift off the ledge with your back foot.

Your hair covers your face, preventing you from seeing anything. And that's probably for the best. Gravity gains control of your body and you tumble down towards the water when you feel a strong hand grab your ankle.

Another hand grabs your waist pulls you back onto the ledge. Your eyes meet Dean's wide green eyes.

He pulls you down so your feet are planted on the ground. "You actually jumped. You were willing to die because of something I said," he says in disbelief. He holds the sides of you arms with a firm grip.

"Let me go, Dean," "I can't," "You were more than willing to push me away, how is this any different?" "Because I need you alive. Damn it, I need you."

He squeezes my arms and you stare into his eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder at the water. He grabs your wrist and drags you towards the trunk of the Impala.

He lifts the trunk and grabs a pair of hand cuffs. He captures your wrists in the them and pushes you into the passenger side.

"Did you even think about us when you jumped?" He says sternly. You look out the window the entire ride back to the bunker. When he pulls into the garage, he lifts you out of the car and motions you to led the way back to the bunker's door. The door opens and there Sam and Cas stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"What happened? Why is she in handcuffs? And why did we get a I'm sorry video from you?" Sam asks frantically. You decided not to say anything and sit down at the table. Dean approaches them and tells them to go to the kitchen. He informs them of what you tried to do and Castiel was pissed.

"Im mean how can she be so selfish?" Dean snaps. "Selfish?" Sam repeats. He was about to say something else when Cas cuts him off. "You are such an asshole, Dean. She's dedicated more of her life and time to you both instead of herself. She hid her suffering and her pain to make sure you two were okay! She was hurting herself damn it, but of course you would give a damn about that!" Cas snaps.

"Cas," Sam mediates. "You have the nerve to shame her for having a big heart. I don't care if I'm dead to you because you blame me for Mary, you're dead to me for making Y/N believe that she'll never be good enough for you!" Cas spits. He pushes past them and makes his way over to Y/N long strides.

"Come on, Y/N, we're leaving." Cas motions you to stand up. You shake your head no and he adds, "You want to stay here?" "I don't know what I want, Cas, that's the problem."

"You should leave, put this -us- in your rearview mirror." Sam says, walking into the study. You shrug and lean your back into the chair. You lean your elbows on the table and rest your face in your hands.

"You could have told me, Y/N. You've been there for me more time than I can count. Let me help you." Sam says softly. "We can be there for you when you need it, Y/N. You just have to trust us." Cas says.

Sam pulls you in for a hug first and Cas followed suit. Dean walks into the study to see that they were hugging.

He didn't know what to do. He feels at fault for Y/N keeping to herself. He made everything about him and Sam and didn't think about how Y/N was holding up.

**

Even after Cas and Sam showed their support, you remained quiet. You appreciate their efforts, but nothing they can do is going to make you feel the closure that you needed to mourn Bobby.

You stayed behind with Charlie to make sure things went as planned on the flip side. Sam and Dean took Bobby to the hospital after Dick shot him in the head.

An hour after his surgery, he died and you never got the chance to say goodbye. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Dean asks Sam. "I really hope that it does." Sam says before looking to Cas. You were fresh out of the shower and in the process of pulling your hair into braids.

You heard a loud clash followed by the ground shaking. "Guys?" You rush out of the room and run to where you heard voices. "Sam? Dean? Castiel?" You call as you cough from the smoke entering your lungs. You swat away the smoke with your hand and continued to cough.

"We're alright," Dean says. The rest of them were coughing too and when the smoke and dust finally cleared, there stood Bobby in the middle of the dried twigs. Him in his favorite white and blue sea bass hat and the green rain jacket he always wore over his flannels.

"What are you idjits doin'! You know how many unwritten laws you're breakin' right now? Too many, that's how many," "Bobby?" You say in disbelief. "Hey pumpkin," he says with his face softening after yelling at the boys.

He knew you're past all too well and he tried his hardest to help you move past it. And here you are, right back where you started. Your body has a mind of its own and runs over to him. He reached out to smooth a hand over your hair and you gasp in disbelief that he was actually here.

"What happened to you, honey? I told you knuckle heads to take care of her," Bobby snarks. "I relapsed again, Bobby. I'm so sorry."

He holds the sides of your face and caresses the hood of your eyes with his thumbs. Bobby was not the physically affectionate type, but he knew that was the only way to show you that he cared.

"There's nothing for you to be ashamed about. You're human and you make mistakes." You duck your face to hide your tears from him and he pulls you into his chest.

You completely unravel and you sobs prevented your ability to breathe. You collapse to floor and Bobby followed you.

He cradled you into his arms and you sobbed into the crook of his arm. Bobby looks up to the boys and they stare at her. "What the hell happened?" "We don't really know. She's been in a rough patch, but we just don't know for how long." Sam says, watching Y/N's body tremble as she cries.

"You boys were suppose to take care of her," Bobby says. "We know, we-" "We failed her, I'm sorry, Bobby." Dean says, clenching his jaw. "Well don't tell me. Hug her and tell her you're sorry. And you better mean it, boy," he commands.

Dean reluctantly kneels down next to you and tugs you towards his chest. You lean your head into his collarbone and holds the side of your head. You sniffle a little but furrow your brow when you hear him sniffle. "I'm so sorry."

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. "Let's give em' a minute, we're all going to take some turns getting our heads out of ours ass. Come on," Bobby says, motioning the rest of the crew to leave.

[lighteyed]

this is a place where i don’t feel alone / jack kline

summary: jack and reader bonding after a hunt <3

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i found this in my google docs and like... it was PRETTY cute and i didn’t want to let it waste away in my docs so here she is :) i want to post more and just write whatever i want for whoever i want and be happy on here. and i do love jack

Freshly showered after his first hunt, Jack wanders through your open bedroom door. His golden hair is messy like he’s never seen a brush before (which, to be fair, he most likely hasn’t) and his brown eyes are large in their curiosity. He hadn’t been in your room yet, despite living at the bunker for a couple weeks now. For the most part, he had no reason to go in there. And regardless, he was too nervous to even ask. You, however, were the only person in the entire building he felt completely at ease around, even more so than Castiel. The way you looked at him was reassuring. He never saw fear or apprehension when he met your gaze, just a desire to understand. A yearning for a friend. He’d heard your shower squeak to a stop, had waited a couple moments before trying to enter the room (learned that the hard way), and now here he was. Shy, awkward, but there.

 You placed the novel you were reading down on your bed when you noticed him, motioning for him to come further inside. “How you feeling after your first hunt, Jack? You okay?”

 He nodded, picking up all the little items scattered across your dresser. So new to everything, it was all unfamiliar. He touched a necklace lightly. “Yes, I think so. I didn’t realize there would be so much blood.”

 “Comes with the gig. You’ll get used to it.” If he sticks around that long. “Are you okay with using the shower now? Like the shampoo, the conditioner, body wash, the whole shebang?”

 “Yes! Thank you for making Dean show me how to do it, but I still don’t understand why you couldn’t, and Dean did not want to talk to me much during the process of showing me how to use the shampoo-”

  The cute furrowing of his brow as he fumbles around for an answer to his question makes you giggle. His inability to pick up on social cues was beginning to become incredibly endearing. “Yeah, well, it’s just different, and Dean probably just felt awkward ‘cause you know, you weren’t clothed.”

 “Oh, is that not okay?” Jack’s face scrunched up again.

 “Depends who you ask and what the situation is.” You patted the edge of your bed, gesturing for him to sit down with you. When he sat, it was stiff, hands folded neatly in his lap as he continued to gaze around your room. “But you got all the blood off okay? I know you heal quick and stuff but it was all in your hair and I don’t think Dean really drilled in the concept of a deep conditioning treatment.”

 “I think so,” he repeated, patting the top of his head. His hair was still damp and felt clean enough. You leaned forward to examine him, though, breathing in the scent of shampoo. It was kind of funny, the way he had a newborn baby look and feel to him. Even his scent was like a baby’s. It’s sweet, really. “I used the one in the pink bottle.”

 “My shampoo? I figured, you smell like flowers,” you grinned, leaning back against the headboards.

 He tilted his head, “Is that a good thing?”

 “Definitely,” you reassured. “Most boys don’t smell nearly half as good as you do right now. Your hair’s all messy, though. Do you know how to use a hairbrush?” You already knew the answer, standing up and grabbing yours from the dresser before making your back to the bed. “Sit here,” you motioned for him to move up closer to you, his back to your chest. Jack did so hesitantly, as he did most things involving you.

 “Dean didn’t teach me about a… hairbrush?” He relaxed a little at the gentleness of your hand smoothing out his hair, letting his shoulders slack.

 “Dean can barely remember a toothbrush, so much on his mind,” you say, lifting the brush and running it through Jack’s hair. There weren’t many tangles to sort through; his hair was cropped short, but it was thick enough where it needed a brushing here and there. It was nice hair. Everything about Jack was nice. He had nice hair, nice eyes, a nice smile whenever he was around you, and in general Jack was a sweetheart. You could never fathom Dean’s inability to give the kid a chance. He was never anything but kind. He didn’t even recognize Lucifer as his father. He viewed Castiel as his dad, and Castiel was the opposite of evil. He was practically harmless. And when Jack was here, half in your arms with his eyes drooping shut from the pleasantness of your soft caress, he was harmless, too.

 “This is very relaxing,” Jack tells you, breathing deeply as you continued. “Do you brush your hair out, too?”

 “Of course, but it’s not as relaxing to do it myself. Someone else brushing my hair is probably… I don’t know, calming. It’s the best.” One of the best feelings in the world really. Better than almost anything else, and something you missed dearly. A sigh fell from your lips, but you smoothed back his hair again anyway. “I think you’re all good now.” You expected for him to say his goodnights and leave the room, but he lingered. He had more questions. Mouthfuls of them.

 “Does anyone else brush your hair for you? Like you do for me?” He scoots up toward where you sat, shoulder to shoulder with you now.

 “Not for a long time. My mom used to, before I would go to school. Even when I got older, she’d wanna brush my hair for me. Said it calmed her down, helped her to stop thinking about how fast I was growing up.” You could almost see the gears whirring about in Jack’s mind, trying to figure out the story. Sam and Dean were your brothers, but you talked about your mother in a different way than they would talk about Mary.

 “But, Mary is alive, isn’t she-”

“Mary is great, but she isn’t my mom.” Jack waited patiently for you to continue, staring intently. “See, you’re half angel and you’re half regular human. Sam and Dean are just half my brothers. So, it’s kind of similar, except not really, but sort of… you get me?” Jack blinked twice, and you took that as a no. “Their mom is alive now, in 2018, but she died when Sammy was a baby and Dean was a little kid. Dean is twenty years older than me, and Sammy is sixteen years older than me, so their mom and dad had, like, no time to actually make me… uh together. Baby making is a different story, Jack, so don’t ask. Anyway, our dad, John, had me with a different woman a long time after Mary had passed away. We also have another brothers, and Dean says it’s because our dad can’t keep it in his pants, but I’ve never met him. Something about a cage. But yeah. We have the same dad, just different moms. And I don’t have my mom. So I’m totally out of luck with the whole parent thing.”

  You were sure Mary didn’t loathe you or anything, but you could tell it made her sad that she hadn’t been able to ever have her own real daughter, and that even though she’d been gone a long time when you had been conceived, you were still the result of John and someone else. It was understandable. You felt a bit nervous around her, too. Like you’d never be able to say the right thing or be the right kind of pseudo-daughter.

 “Where’s your mom? Why don’t you have her?”

 “She died, five years ago. Some demon’s sick way of getting all the Winchester siblings together again. I came back from school and she was just… dead. Sam and Dean were called in for the case and Cas told them who I was ‘cause I guess he could recognize it or something and now here I am.”

 “Do you miss her? I miss my mom all the time, and I never got to meet her.”

  “All the time, Jack. All the time.” He hadn’t meant to make you sad, but he felt it lingering in the air now. Your nose was scrunched slightly, your fists clenched and your eyes staring down at hands. “The day she died, that morning before I left for school, I wouldn’t let her brush my hair or even hug me goodbye. It was my first day of high school. I was fourteen.”

 Jack doesn’t know what’s come over him when he swipes his hand softly across your cheek, the tear smearing across your face. It’s so sweet and charming you almost wonder if maybe Dean had been teaching him how to flirt. “Thanks, Jack.”

 “I can- I can brush your hair, if you want.” He takes the brush, and you slide up between his legs and lean back against him. He runs it through your hair so very delicate in each of his movements you feel yourself flashing back to when it was you and your mother in your living room, always just the two of you no matter what, and you feel that same sense of peace wash over you as it had when you were a child. How could this boy, who provided serenity so quickly and completely, ever be anything but inherently good? It was impossible.

Jack was so content in his own actions, he didn’t realize you were already half asleep. Even breaths, relaxing into him, eyes fluttering closed. Before you can drift off, he says one final thing, “Our moms are probably in Heaven together. I think they would be friends. Best friends.”

 “Yeah? You think so? Even though God’s gone for good and it’s all kinda shitty up there?”

 “The best people go there. And our moms were the best.”

 He says it so confidently that you knock the brush from his hands as you turn around so suddenly to hug him, burying your face in his neck. “You’re so sweet, Jack. Thanks for everything,” you mumble against him. He hesitantly wraps his arms around you, and you smile so broadly you think it’s going to slip your face and your heart wide open.

 You are such a goner.

 And when you kiss him on the cheek before he leaves your room for his own, he blushes like a rose in the sunlight; he knows he’s kind of a goner, too.

[nyxocity]

Fic Writer Questions!

Thanks to @redmyeyes for the tag!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

82, although that's not even close to my actual total. There's a bunch on LJ that have never been transferred (all shorter works)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,780,805 (over 2mil on LJ)

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mostly three, plus a couple dips into a few other pools. X-Men Comic Book fandom, Buffy & Angel fandom (they kinda count as one since it's the same universe), and Supernatural & SPN RPF. Dips have included Dragon Age, Firefly, a tiny bit of TVD, a Sons of Anarchy crossover.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is tough if I go by numbering. Homework Verse has the most kudos scattered across all parts, but Stranger Than Fiction has the most as a single story. Anyway...

Homework Verse (J2 RPF, 200k+ words) - My very first RPF fic, Supernatural or otherwise. Two of my online fandom friends basically TOLD me I was going to write Teacher/Student J2, and I kept protesting that I drew the line at RPF. They didn't care. 200k later, here we are. This story was a game changer for me; it made me fandom famous. I still love those boys with my whole heart, and they still talk to me sometimes.

Stranger Than Fiction (Sam/Dean, 50644 words) - This story idea took root immediately following the episode The Monster at the End of This Book. I quit the Big Bang I'd already begun writing for that year (which was Who Watches Over Me, which I finished and posted for BB the following year) to write this story. It just took hold hold of me and took over. I wrote it in 6 weeks and it was easily the most fun I ever had writing anything--I cackled like a madwoman most of the time.

Who Watches Over Me (J2 RPF, 96591 words) - This story was, at the time, the toughest thing I'd ever written. Little did I know that would become the norm and not the exception, as I began to write more complex stories. It was by far the longest story I had ever posted all at once in its entirety (rather than chapter by chapter) and I had no idea if people would like it. Fortunately a lot of people did.

Like Staring Into the Sun (Sam/Dean, 23243 words) - Ah, my very first hardcore Wincest fic. I remember writing the first chapter of the story (meant to be a one shot honestly), and just sitting there, at 5am, being terrified to post it. It was twisted, dark and intense and SO porny I was scared people might think I was weird. There wasn't anything like it out there at the time. As it turns out, people loved it so much I ended up writing eight more parts.

Like a Fish Out of Water (Sam/Dean, 59498 words) - I have a lot of love for this story. It didn't come to me easily, but it was fun to write. I remember smiling a lot and just having a nice, warm cozy feeling the whole time. I had no idea if anyone was interested in reading this many words of what amounted to a dramedy curtain fic

Of course there are other stories that I feel deserve love, but I can't argue with these.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do. And by that, I mean I try. I don't always succeed in answering them all, but I answer as many as I have time and energy for. Life is busy and there is writing to do as well. I read every comment I get (multiple times) and I feel guilty for all the ones I don't answer, because they mean SO MUCH TO ME. Like you took time to leave this beautiful, well thought out comment, or even a keysmash, or a heart, in response to something I wrote. That means the world.

I WISH there was a reaction function for comments on Ao3, so I could heart things, or laugh in response. Replying with emojis without words feels weird. So yeah, a reaction function would be amazing. But in the meantime, I do my best.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably A Touch of Evil. Interestingly, it's also a HAPPY ending, so there you go lol. It's a serial killer love story with a happy ending that comes at an exorbitant price.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I'm not sure why the OG post skips from 6 to 8 lol . So, yes, I have written a few minors crossovers. Mostly Faith in the SPN verse with the boys, nothing too crazy, because she fits right in. But for long stories, I have written all of ONE crossover. It's Dean Winchester/Jax Teller (SPN / Sons of Anarchy). My crossovers so far have tended to make sense to crossover, so I don't think any of them are crazy.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I got some hate on a Buffy/Xander fic back in the day. I got really excited and had fun with it. Like yeah, now I'm SOMEBODY! You're no one til someone hates you lol Most of that was people who were haters of the ship, or were like, gross, they're like brother and sister (they weren't, they were FRIENDS). I've gotten nasty comments here and there on some of my SPN fic. My favorite was the person who accused me of having a "Top Dean Agenda". I STILL laugh about that one. I don't respond to that crap.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Have you MET ME? LOL If I ever post a story without smut just put me out to pasture, because I'm done. And all kinds. Het, Gay, PWP, Plotty porn, mostly super kinky but some vanilla (but intense). I used to challenge myself regularly to see if I could up my kink game--like hmm, but could I write THIS? I haven't written really kinky sex in a long time, though. Might be time to do that.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Several times. Who Watches Over me was stolen by someone and converted to One Direction Lourry fic. Literally just did a name change. Someone else stole a bunch of my one shots and passed them off as their own. I know there were a couple other instances but I only vaguely remember. I never got too deep into it, most of the time the people who discovered the theft already told everyone else too, and the plagiarist had been hammered by them so hard that I didn't have to step in before they took it down.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I used to get requests so often that I just posted my usual response in my profile for people to read instead of replying. Definitely into Russian and Chinese for most of the stories listed with most kudos above.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A few times on one shot fics. SO MUCH FUN. I love co-writing with people.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

Sam/Dean. Easily. Hands down. I just love their unique relationship, bond and love so much.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well I finally finished A Touch of Evil after posting 3 chapters in 2009 and never touching it again until 2017. And I never thought I'd finish that. So never say never, I say. That said, there's the third and final part of my X-Men comic book epic that remains unfinished by about five (shorter) chapters, and it HAUNTS ME. But I don't think I'll ever finish it.

16) What are your writing strengths?

NOW we get to the hard questions. I'm really good at dialogue, bouncing banter back and forth between characters, and I have a sense for how long a scene should be. I just KNOW when it's going on too long, even if there's more that needs to be said, and I try to tighten it up in that case.

A friend of mine once told me "Porn is my gift". I don't write as much of it as I used to, but yeah, I shine in that area.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

So I always reach a point after writing so many words in an unpublished fic where I'm like, I have no idea if this is even any good/makes sense/hangs together etc. Beyond that, I've been writing for so long that I've had so much practice that I've strengthened a lot of my weaknesses. I'm sure I still have some, but I don't FEEL them like I used to anymore. That said, there are things I simply will not write. Like historical pieces. Because I would research the fuck out of every detail trying to get it perfect and then I would still doubt myself completely.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I mostly try to avoid it, because there's no way I would ever get the language correct. I usually write it in English and then explain that they're saying it in another language. Like, "What are you doing?" the man asks, speaking in Chinese. Then reiterate in the continuing dialogue in various ways that they're speaking in Chinese.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

X-Men Comic Book fandom. I was reading a lot of Remy/Rogue fic back in 1996-1997, and one day I was like, you know what? This person did a pretty good job on this story. It's not great, but it's pretty good, and if they can have the guts to put it out there, then I can do it, too.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a tough question. I don't love all my children equally, but I love them all a lot in different ways lol

Remembering favorite is different than which one I think is BEST... Homework Verse is probably my favorite. I was learning so much about writing then, I was really growing, and discovering, and pushing my limits. Those characters lived and breathed in me, I swear they spoke through me from some alternate universe. They feel so REAL to me. There's so much of what I've learned in life in that story, like really, big, life changing ideas and understandings that happened to me that I put into that story. There's so much of me in that story, and yet there's so much of THEM, too. It's their story, but it's also mine. It's raw and not entirely perfect and it feels like home to me.

--

So that's it, that's my piece. I feel like EVERYONE has been tagged since it took me 3 days to have time to do this, but I'm basically tagging any of you writers out there who haven't done this yet!

[supersupernaturalimagines]

Crazy to Think

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Summary - Castiel Request: When you almost get yourself killed for Castiel, it makes him start to question everything. Does age really matter when you care that much for someone? 

Word Count - 1,856

Warnings - Canon typical violence and some language, but that’s it! 

You knew in the back of your mind that it could never work. From the moment that angels had walked into your family’s life, you had learned very quickly that they were no good. They were not the strong protectors and guardians that you had always heard they were. In fact, most of the angels that you had met so far turned out to be nothing but pricks, doing whatever it took to make their own agenda pass. They cared little about anything else. So the thought of having one of them care for you didn’t seem possible. 

Castiel wasn’t like any other angel you knew though, and that was why it had been so easy to sacrifice your life for him. 

The blade had punctured something. You were sure of that by the amount of blood that you could feel leaking through your clothes. What organ it had, you didn’t have a clue. You didn’t care much anyway. You couldn’t when Castiel was holding you in his arms, one of his hands clutching you to his chest while the other held your head upright. He was calling your name, and it took a lot of attention to focus, but you did so, for him. “You have to stay awake. I’m going to heal you.” 

“Urgh, I know, but it still hurts like hell.” You groaned, letting out a hiss of pain as Castiel pressed his hands against your wound. “Shit, Cass!” 

“Shut up and let him do it, Kid.” Dean said, dropping down beside you and glancing at Castiel. “You can fix her up?” 

“Yes, but not here. They’ve put up symbols to weaken my powers.” Castiel replied, sparing him a glance before his gaze and those gentle blue eyes focused on yours once more. “I will have to carry you, and it will hurt.” 

“Doesn’t it always?” Another groan left your lips, and you turned your head to bury it in Castiel’s shoulder. You didn’t want the man you loved and the man you considered a brother to see you cry. You never wanted to be anything less than strong for them. 

You felt a hand clasp your shoulder for a brief moment and then withdraw. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Dean. “All right, let’s get out of here as quick as possible.” 

Without another word, you felt Castiel lift you into the air. The next few minutes were a blur of pain and blackness. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you forced yourself awake by trying to remind yourself that this was probably the first and last time that Castiel would be carrying you in his arms. 

And of course, the moment you all broke free from the tree lines, demons surrounded you. “Take her and go!” Dean yelled at Castiel. 

Castiel looked torn, “but Dean -!”

“I’ve got this! Go!” Dean yelled again. 

This time, Castiel didn’t hesitate. You heard the flutter of wings, and the two of you were outside the bunker. Castiel rushed the two of you inside, placing you on the couch before bringing his hand to your abdomen. 

You had always loved watching Castiel heal people, the gentle touch he would press against their skin, the way that his eyes would close in concentration . . . knowing you were going to see him like that was one of the few things keeping you conscious. 

As soon as his hands rested once more on your injury, a warmth flowed through them into you. You closed your eyes as white hot warmth seemed to enter your body, then vanish away. After you opened your eyes, you glanced down to find your wound healed. 

Once you were better, you had expected Castiel to let go of you at once, but instead, you found him staring at you, his expression unreadable. “Cass?” You whispered, the expression on his face making your heart start to pound against your chest. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked, the slightest frown on his face. 

There wasn’t any question as to what he was referring to. You had taken a stab from an angel blade for him. A stab that could have killed you if Castiel didn’t have his grace. Thinking back on it, there hadn’t been much thought in the first place. “I . . . I did it. I didn’t think about it.” 

Castiel shook his head, the confusion clear in his eyes. “Human life is so fleeting. Barely a leaf passing in the wind, and your life has just begun. It doesn’t make sense that you would risk it for -”

“I didn’t want to live in a world without you alright? With no guarantee that you would be brought back to us.” You snapped, once again annoyed that he had brought up your age. You weren’t that much younger than Sam, yet it was something that was brought up all the time. Yes, you were young, but not that young. “I’m done losing people I love.” You said, hoping that for once he would catch the double meaning to your words. 

After several moments of staring at each other, you opened your mouth, ready to take back everything that you had said, but Castiel beat you to it. “I must go help Dean.” He said, and with the soft sound of feathers unfurling, he was gone. 

Turning over, you groaned into the pillow, embarrassed. You weren’t sure why you kept putting yourself through this pain over and over expecting a different result. 

Castiel was never going to care for you the same way that you cared for him. He was an Angel afterall. You weren’t even sure if they could be in love. 

Apparently the fight had taken more out of you than you thought, because sometime later you woke up to the sound of three familiar voices nearby.

“So what happened when you brought her back?” Sam was asking. 

“I healed her.” Castiel replied, and once again, you could hear the confusion in his words from here. 

“After that, Cass? Did she give you a big kiss of thanks? Or did you plant one on her for saving your life?” Dean asked, digging for more information. 

Castiel hesitated a moment before responding this time. “She did say that she loved me.” 

You could only assume that one of them had spit out their food, and by the hoarse sound in his voice, you figured it was Dean. “About damn time, did she blurt it out or something?” 

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that. She said she saved me because she couldn’t lose anyone else that she loved.” Castiel told the brothers. 

“That’s the same thing, Cass. So did you plant one on her then?” Dean asked. 

No he most certainly hadn’t, but you did find it a tad bit embarrassing that the whole crew seemed to know about your, not so subtle, crush on Cass. 

“I did not.” Castiel admitted. “I went back to help you.” 

“Wait . . . you left her here? Without saying anything else?” Sam spoke up in disbelief. 

“Yes . . . Was there something else I should have done?” Castiel asked. 

“You mean besides plant one on her?!” Dean questioned. 

“Dude! Stop saying that. It’s weird.” Sam interrupted, and then he focused his attention back on Cass. “You should have said something Cass. Didn’t you want to?” 

You tilted your head back towards the door, making sure you could hear every word that Castiel was about to say. “Of course I did. I just wasn’t sure if it was . . . appropriate. She is rather young.” 

“Well if you’re waiting for someone around your own age, you might be waiting a while.” Dean told him, and you couldn’t help but smirk at his response, amused that at least someone wasn’t taking that bullshit response. 

“Does it matter anyway?” Sam asked him. 

There was silence, and you waited with bated breath for Castiel’s response. “What do you mean?” 

Of course, Dean was the one to speak up. “He means if you think age is what’s standing in your way, you’re lying to yourself.” He told him. 

“And whatever you’re scared of, you should go talk to her about it.” Sam suggested, and it sounded like someone clapped Castiel on the shoulder. 

Then there was silence, and you turned back as fast as you could to the position you had woken up in, afraid one of them would walk in and realize you had eavesdropped on their whole conversation. Sure enough, you felt footsteps heading straight towards you, and tried to deepen your breathing, but you tried too hard. 

Castiel said your name without any attempt of being quiet. “I know you are awake. Normally when you sleep, your heart rate is much lower.” He told you. 

You felt the heat rising to your face as you opened your eyes, embarrassed at being caught. “How long have you known I was awake?” You asked. 

“As soon as you woke up.” He responded, as if surprised by your question. “I assume you heard everything?” When you nodded, he gestured to the other end of the couch. “May I?” 

Nodding, you sat up and moved your feet so that he could sit down beside you. “Is Sam right . . . or is it the age thing?” You asked after being unable to take the silence for a second longer. 

Castiel still made you wait, his eyes on his hands as he wrung them for a few moments. Finally though, he looked up at you, a soft expression on his face. “I suppose it’s both. Your life is so fleeting, even if you are younger. I don’t want you to waste it on unknowns with me, no matter how I might feel about you.” 

You leaned forward onto your knees, desperate for the answer to your next question. “How do you feel about me, Castiel? If we were two regular people, angels, whatever . . . How would you feel?” 

His eyes drifted down to your lips for a moment, then made their way back up to yours. “I care for you deeply. A lot more than I should, and if we were two regular people . . . I would not be questioning what I wanted.” 

Your heart must have leapt out of your chest at his words. For so long you had been sure that there was no way that Castiel could feel the same way for you that you felt for him. Now, here he was, confessing that he, in fact, did. “Castiel . . .” You leaned forward to close the small distance between the two of you. 

But he stopped you, his hand resting on your cheek and caressing your skin with his thumb. “But we are not two regular people . . . and I can’t risk putting you in any more danger than you already are, because that’s what being with me would lead to. Danger.” 

Your heart, that had been so high moments ago, crashed back into your chest with blinding pain. You leaned back, away from his touch. “That’s not -”

“I must go.” Before you could even say another word, he was gone. 

And you were left . . . with nothing but a broken heart.

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Why I think an “I love you too” was never in the cards—and why Covid was a convenient excuse for the “traditional” ending the network always wanted for Supernatural:

 I will preface this by saying that I don’t know anything for sure—but going off of what the cast and crew have said both prior to Covid and the finale, as well as during and after, I believe that the network and the show runners were always planning on taking the easy way out, and this worldwide pandemic just made it all the easier.

So—for the “I love you too, Cas” that we were all hoping for … the reason I think it was never going to be the endgame is for a few reasons: mostly due to what both Misha and Jensen have said over this past year. Misha said recently in a Q&A that he was concerned about how Jensen might react to the whole “confession” scene we saw in 15x18. Also, he said that he knew about that scene long before Jensen did; however, Jensen has said he’s known about the idea for the final episode for months and months before filming for season 15 even began—which means, the two things probably didn’t coincide. If the confession actually connected to the finale in some way (and let’s face it, if Dean said “I love you too” that’s all anyone would be talking about), then Jensen would’ve known about it probably before Misha did, so Misha wouldn’t need to feel nervous over how Jensen might react.

We all thought that when Jensen said he wasn’t happy with the idea for the ending—it might have something to do with Destiel; but given how it all played out and what both actors have said since the confession scene aired and all the buzz surrounding it, obviously that isn’t the case. They have both said more about the confession and have been more positive about that than anything to do with the finale.So, what was Jensen actually upset about? Well, I think that has changed over time and has gotten worse thanks to Covid.

Jensen has been recorded saying he’s wanted a “Blaze of Glory” ending for the boys for years. Hell, they even had Dean say it in the show when the boys were trapped inside the bunker (season 10? 11?). He always imagined a tragic, action packed ending—where both Sam and Dean go down swinging; so the idea of them making it to some big, happy reunion in heaven probably didn’t sit well with him, because it softened that tragedy. Misha seemed to have similar hopes for his character—although, Cas got much closer to that beautifully tragic and heroic ending than Dean did; and Misha was happy for that at least. He’s happy that Castiel got to go out doing something good based in love and sacrifice, rather than some clumsy ending that didn’t do his complex character justice; and his thoughts on this haven’t changed over time, unlike Jensen’s. Both before, as well as after Covid, Misha has said basically the same thing in regards to the show’s planned-ending for Castiel: “That’s how I always saw his character arc ending”. So, again—I don’t think some momentous reunion in heaven was originally scripted or else Misha would’ve spoken about the end to Castiel’s story a little differently. I think he would’ve been even more excited and pleasantly surprised about what his and Dean’s on-screen connection would actually mean for the fans and the LGBT+ community; and he probably would’ve hinted to that in the months prior to the finale being aired. He wouldn’t have spoken of “sacrifice” ... he would’ve spoken of “hope”.

But the original idea for the finale that Misha hinted to in this most recent Q&A seemed to be very much the same as what we saw … only, all our favorites would’ve actually made an appearance in heaven instead of just having their names dropped (if they even got that much). I still think they were going to kill Dean in that horribly dumb way. I still think they were going to have Sam live out his life in a crappy montage without his brother by his side, and I still think that heaven would be where the story finally faded to black—the only difference Covid made was that more familiar faces weren’t on the screen.

That being said—even if Covid hadn’t been a thing, I doubt Dean and Cas’s reunion in heaven would’ve been anything more than just a bro-hug outside the Roadhouse. That’s all Becky’s Funko dolls foreshadowed, and her fears regarding Chuck’s ending were the closest to the truth; because if Dean and Cas were meant to have this big moment of love and rainbows … if the network was actually going to be that bold and take that leap, they would’ve still done it. Misha is one guy, and getting Covid-clearance for one more person wouldn’t have brought production to some screeching halt. The show runners would’ve made it happen if they actually possessed the balls to try it; but they don’t, so it was never their plan to have Dean say it back. Also, the network apparently went to the trouble of holding some focus-groups regarding Destiel and potential ideas for ending the series, which means they put a lot of thought into what would be most profitable; and even though you and I would have lost our collective minds if Dean reciprocated Cas’s love, it could alienate the show’s market in certain parts of the country and the world, and this show has made them a lot of money over time, and will probably continue to do so if they just played it safe; so, that’s what they did. They played it safe so they could re-run it for years to come, and never have to actually own up to anything they implied or even flat-out said over the years.

To support this—in that pre-show send off featuring all the cast and crew, Misha talked about how we were in charge of our own endings. That was filmed before Covid. That was filmed before whatever plans that were made for the show, had to be adjusted. He knew that many of us would be disappointed that they took Cas’s character so close to that massive edge that would’ve made history in the TV industry, and then backed off of it right at the last second. He knew that nothing was going to come of it, so he told us that we could make it better, and we should—and he would support us with the better-endings we imagined, because he agrees with us more than the show he’s given his last twelve years to.

Finally, there’s Jensen. Like I said before—I think Jensen expected something more tragic with the finale, like Kripke had envisioned from the start, but when a happy-heaven ending was proposed, he needed some time to digest it. I do think he did digest it though. I think he realized that the fans would need to see the boys happy and in heaven with all the ones they loved, because so many of us identify with those characters. I think that he began to understand that, and he even began to get excited about it … but then Covid happened, and suddenly, that ending began to change. Jensen saw that slowly but surely, the finale was shifting into something no one would be happy about. It was some blurry-medium (like Sam’s wife) between what was originally planned, and what the production team could actually get away with. His support seemed to dwindle before our eyes. He went from “Yeah—I learned to be excited about it” to “I get it” to almost a dead-silence over the entire thing. That ending that “didn’t sit right with him” wasn’t justifiable anymore if all the people that fans have loved for years, couldn’t be there … and Jensen knew that, so doing that weird half-ass ending where they basically erased all those supporting characters, felt very wrong, so Jensen got very quiet about it. Even when the finale aired, he was pretty damn quiet.

He just “put his head down and did the work.”

And that is so horribly tragic to me.

I think though, that this crappy ending is what the network really wanted anyway. They wanted it to just be the boys. They didn’t want to have to field all the potentially “gay” things from the chemistry between Cas and Dean. They figured the confession was enough to placate us, and then when Covid happened, they realized they lucked out even more and could just leave it there. Hell, they didn’t even need to have Misha on set anymore because – if they weren’t going to address the confession anyway, why bother? They could just say “It started with just the brothers, so that’s how it’s ending” and blame Covid when anyone tried to question it. It all worked out in a way that allowed them to just sit back and wash their hands of all of it, wash their hands of us.

Wash their hands of the actors and cut the ties they said that they valued.

I think they were willing to hurt just about everyone to reach their bottom-line, and hiding behind a worldwide pandemic was an extremely convenient circumstance that allowed them to get away with it basically unscathed.

[supernatural-jackles]

Owe You One - Part 5

Title: Owe You One - Something Old and New

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,371

Warnings: Minor Angst, Workplace Drama, Light Smut, Dry Humping, Fluff, Implied strained relationship.

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Square Filled: Mechanic AU ( @spnfluffbingo)  Friends With Benefits ( @spndeanbingo ) Clothed Sex ( @spnkinkbingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday! Here is part 5! I hope y’all enjoy this part! Please leave your thoughts in a reblog, reply or send me an ask! The reason I share is to get a response from you! Happy Reading! 

You let out the biggest yawn as you typed away on your work computer. It was just after one on a Tuesday afternoon, and you were more than ready for Friday to be here. You weren’t sure if you could handle another three days of the same boring work. You needed to find something new, instead of this fashion magazine crap. There was no way you were going to work her for the rest of your life.

 You finished up your last paragraph, saving the file before exiting. Charlie walked past your desk, giving you a wink before she entered the conference room right next to your desk. You were having an afternoon meeting in there to discuss how things were going, along with a bit of a late lunch. Since your floor was all women, getting off topic was a given. It was basically a gossip session in a professional setting.

 You put your computer on sleep mode, getting up from your chair. You decided to bring your sweater into the room, in case you got cold later on. Charlie had picked her usual seat at the end of the table so she could look at the boss directly. You always took the seat next to her, since she was one of your only friends in this place.

 As soon as you took your seat, the rest of the ladies piled into the room, taking their respective seats. Ruby took her seat next to you, and Meg beside her. Across the table, Bela and Lilith sat down. Your project leader Abaddon, walked in last with a platter of sandwiches from the diner down the road.

 “Ladies,” she greeted you as she placed the platter down on the table. “Welcome!”

 “I hope you got vegetarian,” Meg side-eyed her.

 “Of course I did,” Abaddon stated. “Let’s get the boring part of this meeting over-”

 “Please!” Charlie interrupted.

 “As I was saying. Asmodeus gave me the rundown in this morning's meeting about how things are going on our end. Right now, sales have improved by three percent, which isn’t terrible but it’s not what he is expecting out of us. Considering we cater towards women, he thinks we should be doing better. The guys on the floor below us are doing slightly better on their fishing magazine, let’s put it that way.”

 “Who the fuck wants to read a fishing magazine?” Lilith pointed out.

 “Exactly,” Abaddon replied. “Anyway, if we keep at the rate we’re going, odds are we are going to improve. We just need a couple of good hits and maybe a celebrity cameo cover story to sell and we should be on top. With Charlie on website duty, that reels in a whole other audience and we need to keep that up. I’m going to have Y/N do more articles to keep readers coming back. Ruby, I’m thinking of sending you out in the real world to grab some more perspective since you know how to talk to people. Lilith and Meg, you guys will continue working on graphics.”

 “What about Bela?” Charlie asked.

 “Well I'm actually leaving the company next week. I’m going back to England for a few months,” she smiled sadly. “I’ve got something to do back there.”

 “We’ll be sad to see you go,” Abaddon told her.

 “Yeah,” Ruby frowned.

 “Alright, I’ve given you the just of what you needed to know,” she said, taking a seat on the chair before grabbing a sandwich. “Gossip is now in session! Who is first?”

 “I started seeing this girl a few weeks ago,” Charlie started. “I met her in one of my weekends larping. She became one of the queen’s handmaidens in Moondoor and we just clicked instantly. I mean, I have never just clicked with someone like I have with her. She’s hot and not to mention, one of the best kisser’s like ever!”

 “I’m happy for you,” you smiled at her.

 “I’ll have to bring her around sometime. She’s amazing. I think y’all would really like her,” she beamed.

 “Look at her, she’s getting all blushy,” Abaddon teased her.

 “Shut up,” she scoffed. “I’m not!”

 “You are,” Ruby let out a laugh.

 “Someone else share,” Charlie stated.

 “Cas and I are talking about adopting a dog,” Meg shared. “Our schedules finally match up to the point where one of us would always be there. Our relationship is in a really good place and I think this would be as good a time as ever.”

 “For a second there, I thought you were going to say you’re adopting a child,” Ruby smirked.

 “No. Not yet,” she shook her head.

 “And to think, a year ago you thought Cas didn’t feel the same about you. Now look at you guys,” Lilth reminded everyone. “It’s only a matter of time before you guys get married!”

 “That’s still a long way off. But Cas is my best friend. I love him with all my heart,” she smiled.

 “Lilith and I are having a get together at our house next week,” Ruby spoke up. “You guys can all come and bring whoever you want. It’s been too long since we had one and getting all of us together is so hard.”

 “That’s true,” Charlie said. “I’ll bring my girlfriend.”

 “I’m in,” Abaddon smiled. “Count Crowley in too.”

 “How are you and Crowley, by the way?” Charlie asked.

 “We’re good for the most part. You know us. We still argue like an old married couple. Last night we argued over who was cuddling with Juliet. He likes to hold her and I like to have her head in my lap while we watch tv. There was no settling it last night. You know what he’s like,” she shrugged.

 “Do you think he’s going to propose soon? You guys have been dating for what-”

 “Eight years,” she finished. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not. I’m not expecting him to. I’m happy as long as I’m with him. Even though all we do is argue, there is no one I’d rather be with than him.”

 “That’s what matters,” Meg smiled.

 “What about you, Y/N? Any guy in your life?” Abaddon asked you. She was staring directly at you. You didn’t want to say no, because it was a lie. But at the same time, you didn’t want to say yes because what you and Dean did in the bedroom was between the two of you. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.

 “Nope,” you stated.

 “Oh really? What’s with the hickey on your neck?” she smirked. Everyone turned to face you in sync. Your hand instantly reached up, covering the spot you knew she was talking about. You felt your cheeks turn warm. So much for keeping it quiet. Dean’s fucking lips. “You’ve been caught. Spill now!”

 “I’m not dating anyone,” you shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was nothing.

 “But you have a hickey?” Ruby furrowed her brows. “What, just a hook up?”

 “Something like that,” you breathed out.

 “Or is a friends with benefits kind of thing?” Meg cocked her eyebrow. “‘Cause there is nothing wrong with that.”

 “Sorta,” you answered vaguely.

 “What do you mean there is nothing wrong with friends with benefits?” Bela scoffed. “It’s only going to get complicated for one. Two, what is the point to it?”

 “Have you never just had sex with someone?” Meg argued. “There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults having sex.”

 “That is true,” Charlie nodded. “So what if you are. Is he a nice guy at least?”

 “Yes, he is,” you told them. “Look, I’m not ready for what all you guys have. You are all dating someone, or married or getting married. I don’t want that. I like sex and this guy just happens to be awesome at that. He doesn’t want to date. I don’t want to date. This is better than hooking up with random strangers on a constant basis to get what I want. At least with this guy, there is trust.”

 “With trust comes love,” Charlie teased you. “Why don’t you want something more?”

 “Yeah really?” Abaddon added in. “Out of everyone in this room, you are the only one who has never had a significant other.”

 “I just don’t want one. I’m perfectly happy on my own and I don’t need to have a man to make me feel like I’m getting somewhere,” you shrugged.

 “You never know though, Y/N. You might find this guy is worth it in the end,” Abaddon winked. You could hear the judgement in her voice. It was very clear that she thought the friends with benefits thing was stupid. She had been with the same guy for eight years and all she did was fight with him. What did she know about relationships? Better yet, what did she know about you and your life?

 You needed out of this workplace as soon as possible. You didn’t want to continue to be included in the bi-weekly gossip session. You were fucking tired of being judged by them. Even Charlie, who was supposed to be your friend. Granted, she wasn’t as judgy as Abaddon, the queen of drama. But why couldn’t you be happy with just having sex with someone you trusted. With someone who knew how to get the job done and made you feel good?

 You couldn’t have been happier when the meeting was over and you finally got to head out for the night. You needed away from these women and the drama that they exhaled. You made your way back to your desk to gather your things. You checked your phone to make sure you didn’t miss anything from Sam especially.

 *Hey, you wanna stop by the auto shop when you’re done work. Wanna show you something* - Dean

 You smiled for the first time all day. Finally, some normalcy. Someone who wasn’t immersed in drama. You couldn’t have been happier that he was your best friend after a day like today. You grabbed your sweater, pulling it on before throwing your bag over your shoulder. You swiped your card on the way out of the building, making a beeline for the bus.

 You were thankful that Dean’s work wasn’t too far from your own. It was a few blocks away and thankfully, the bus stop you were getting off at wasn’t too far away from his shop. You sent him a quick okay, you were on your way message to let him know you saw it. You had never been inside his workplace before. Not his day job anyways. You were kind of excited to see what he looked like as a mechanic.

 You got up from your seat, heading over to the back doors of the bus to get off. You could see Winchester’s Auto Shop from where you were. It wasn’t too far. About three buildings away from the bus stop. You just hoped that John wasn’t going to be there. Not if you were going to go in. You definitely weren’t up for another fight with one of the Winchester’s.

 The front door of the auto shop was mostly window with Winchester Auto Shop painted on it in red and black window paint. You pulled it open, hearing the ding of the bell shortly after. There was carpet set down, leading to the front desk where a blonde woman sat. You took a deep breath, finally taking a step forward.

 “Hi there hun, what can I do for you?” she greeted you with a smile. You looked down, reading the name Ellen on the metal bar sitting on her desk.

 “Hi,” you smiled at her. “I’m here to see Dean.”

 “Ah yes! You must be Y/N,” she beamed. “Go right on in, sweetie. His office is at the back on your right. Just be careful. They are still working back there.”

 “They?” you dared to ask.

 “Dean and Bobby,” she told you.

 “Thank you,” you said with a soft smile before heading into the garage. It was a big space filled with a lot of different cars and tools. It smelled exactly like a garage. All the oil and metal you expected. You heard someone working on a car to the left of you. By the sounds of it, it sounded like a tire change. Nothing too extensive like you were somewhat expecting. You looked to the right, finding Dean’s office in the corner like Ellen said.

 You could see Dean from the doorway. He was sitting at his desk, writing something in a black notebook. He was clad in a pair of jeans and a snug grey t-shirt that was covered in grease spots. He was solely focused on what he was doing.

 “Hi,” you greeted him, giving him a warm smile. “You wanted to see me, Mr Winchester?”

 “Hey sweetheart,” he grinned. “Yeah, I did. I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

 “A surprise? Dean-”

 “Just, follow me before you protest, okay?” he stated. He got up from his chair, motioning for you to follow him. He lead you both to the back door of the garage, allowing you to step out first before he joined you. You saw a bunch of tires stacked up, and rims to go with them close by. A couple of scrap cars and a two door truck sitting close by.

 “What are we doing out here?” you asked.

 He walked over to the truck, leaning against the bed of it before resting his elbow on it. “I know you’re stuck taking the bus because you can’t afford car payments right now. I mentioned something to Bobby a few months ago and he came across this in his salvage yard. It’s a little beat up and it needs a bit of repair work. I figured I could fix it up and you could have it.”

 “Dean, I can’t accept this,” you breathed out.

 “Yes you can,” he nodded. “It’s going to cost me nothing to fix it up. I can even teach you a thing or two about it,” he smirked. “It’ll save you on bus money and this way you’ve at least got a vehicle to get you from point a to point b.”

 “Thank you for this, Dean. Bobby too,” you beamed.

 “What about me?” a gruff voice said from behind you.

 “Y/N, this is Bobby Singer. Bobby, this is my friend Y/N,” Dean introduced the two of you.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Bobby. Thank you for the truck. I really appreciate it,” you smiled at the older man.

 “It’s no problem. It was just sitting in the yard, taking up space. Dean mentioned that a friend of his needed a vehicle. Better use this way. It was mine for the longest time,” he told you, looking at you a little strangely. You swallowed hard, hoping you weren’t about to get another warning from yet another person in Dean’s life. “I have to say, you look a lot like your mother.”

 “Y- you knew my mother?” you cocked your head, swallowing hard. God, did everyone know your mother?

 “A long, long time ago. Way back when she was a kid on my street,” he revealed.

 “Interesting,” you nodded. “Seems like a lot of people knew her.”

 “She was a popular gal,” he chuckled. “I’m heading out now, Dean. Gonna take Ellen home. See you tomorrow.”

 “See ya, Bobby,” Dean waved him off. You heard the door shut behind you a few seconds later, leaving you and Dean alone once more.

 “You look kinda cute covered in grease,” you commented.

 “It’s a dirty job,” he side-eyed you. “Little miss casual Tuesday.”

 “I had a meeting earlier,” you told him.

 “You mean a gossip session with those girls who don’t know how to do anything else?” he chuckled.

 “Yeah, that,” you breathed out. “I guess I kind of owe you one for the truck.”

 “No you don’t,” he stated. “Not for this, Y/N. You need this truck instead of taking the sketchy ass bus. Now you can take up parking spot twenty six. Right next to Baby.”

 “Dork,” you shook your head with a smile.

 “Well, you could always give me a bit of a thank you in my office,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he made his way over to you.

 “You replace the condom in your wallet?” you asked him.

 “Fuck,” he frowned. You gave him a smile, taking his hand before dragging him back inside the auto shop. There was no sign of Bobby or Ellen anywhere as you walked straight into Dean’s office. Space was a little limited, but you could make do with what you had.

 You shut the door tightly behind the two of you before pushing him down on his office chair. You couldn’t have been more thankful that he didn’t have arm rests like your chair at work did. He was a little confused at what you were doing, and truth be told, you had no idea what you were doing. You just wanted to make him feel good.

 You threw your leg over his lap, settling down on top of him. His hands wrapped around you, resting on the small of your back. His eyes were a little darker than they normally were. You leaned forward, slipping your arms around his shoulders.

 “I’d take you right now if I had a freakin’ condom,” he muttered as he leaned in, his lips inches away from yours.

 “Doesn’t rule out all of our options,” you whispered as you wiggled your eyebrows.

 “No, but we don’t got a whole lotta space in here,” he reminded you as his fingers traced the top of your pants. “My office is kind of small.”

 “Then we’ll make do,” you winked. An idea slipped through your mind. You didn’t necessarily have to have sex right here, right now. There were so many different ways to have fun. One of your personal favourites from way back when was something you hadn’t done in a while.

 You balanced yourself on his broad shoulders, finally closing the space between you, capturing his lips with yours. They were soft and wet, and god, when he kissed you back. His kisses were intoxicating and that’s what kept you coming back. You rolled your hips against his. Holy - did it feel good. You couldn’t have been more thankful for wearing yoga pants to work. You could feel everything so much better.

 “Mhh, what are you doing?” he almost chuckled, breathing out against you. His voice was laced with that same lust that was evident on his face.

 “Saying thank you,” you growled. You gripped your fingers into his shoulders, grinding your hips slower on his lap. You could feel him hardening in his jeans, and that made you smile. It made you feel confident about yourself. That same comfortably that you had the first time you were on top fell over you once more. “You okay with that?”

 “More than okay with that,” he nodded, pecking your lips sweetly. His hands slipped down to your ass, squeezing you with just the right amount of pressure, helping you grind on him with ease. The friction of your center pressed against his bulge had you going. You could feel your slick coating your panties, making them incredibly uncomfortable. His tongue parted your lips, gliding along yours in a smooth motion, tasting you.

 Your hands made their way into his hair, feeling the softness as your fingertips grazed over his scalp. He was as hard as a rock in his jeans. God, you felt like a fucking teenager again. Making out with a guy, trying to get as close to having sex as you possibly could. Only this time, you weren’t worried about someone walking in on you. It felt so euphoric to be this close to him, but still be so far.

 “Fucking hell,” he panted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to let out a whimper. His eyes fluttered shut as he bucked his hips into yours, pulling you on him. So thankful for wearing yoga pants, you thought to yourself.

 His chest was heaving, just like yours. His lips were parted, the tip of his tongue peaking passed his lips as he breathed heavily. It felt so damn amazing to feel him the way you were. The pressure against you clothed pussy brought you closer and closer with each movement.

 “God, Y/N, feels so good,” he groaned. His eyes peered open, meeting yours as he adjusted his grip on your ass, curling his fingers into your flesh. One long movement on his crotch dragged perfectly along your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure as you let out a loud moan.

 “Dean!”

 His lips crashed to yours once more, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss instantly. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck, your chest pressing against his. The kiss didn’t last longer than a few seconds, the need for air becoming too much too quickly. You could taste the saltiness on his lips, a thin layer of sweat covered both of your bodies, the clothing making it that much worse.

 “F-fuck sweetheart,” he grunted before letting out a whimpering sigh. You knew he was getting close. He was making the same face as he was the last time before he came. He was panting, trying his hardest to get his breathing under control. He was fucking sexy before he came.

 “De - I’m gonna-” you warned him.

 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Wanna see you come undone again.”

 Your legs began to quake on either side of his as pleasure soared through you. You let out a moan. Your fingers digging into the muscle in his shoulder, trying to ground yourself as you came. Dean’s hands gripped around your body as he bucked his hips up to yours.

 His eyes slammed shut as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough for you to see he was holding back a moan. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed out.

 You continued to ride his lap, letting him get as much pleasure as he possibly could from it. You were over sensitive, and your panties were ruined. But you felt so satisfied. You felt even better knowing that you made Dean feel good.

 He smiled at you with his half swollen, cocky grin that had you smiling along with him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His nose nudged against yours before his lips pressed softly to yours.

 “Fuck sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I can’t believe you just made me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

 “You’re welcome,” you giggled.

 “Good thing I have a change of clothes,” he chuckled. “I gotta say, you look hot as hell when you come undone.”

 “Thank god I wore thin pants today,” you let out a laugh. “I haven’t done that since I was sixteen.”

 “I’ve never actually done that before,” he admitted.

 “Never?” you cocked your head to the side.

 “No,” he shrugged. You carefully climbed off of his lap, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in your lower region now that your panties were ruined. “I never did the whole make out sessions for hours on end when I was growing up. I’ve worked here since I was fifteen.”

 “Well, I’m glad I was your first,” you smirked.

 “Alright, how about I clean and close up shop. I’ll drive you home so you can get cleaned up and we can go out some place tonight and grab a bite to eat?” he suggested.

 “Go out?” you furrowed your brows.

 “Burgers, fries and pie. We can hang out some place afterwards,” he said nonchalantly. You were all for eating and hanging out, but you didn’t want to run the risk of his parents seeing you together. You didn’t want to endure more drama than you already had today.

 “I’m all for burgers and hanging out, but I don’t want to run the risk of your parents seeing us together, Dean. Why don’t we pick something up on the way home and hang out in my apartment. We can play video games or something?”

 “Okay,” he nodded. “But just so you know, you don’t have to hide out in fear of them seeing us together. I don’t care what they think. I told them straight up that I wasn’t going to stop talking to you, or being friends with you. ‘Sides, I’m thirty. What are they doing to do? Ground me?”

 “No, but they could stop talking to you or something. I don’t want that to happen on account of me,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Your mom told me I wasn’t good enough for your family. I’m not going to come between you and them. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the reason why you didn’t have a relationship with them.”

 “My mom is a bitch,” he stated, getting up from his chair. He reached beneath his desk where he had a bag. He pulled out a pair of jeans, clean boxers and a shirt. He reached for his belt, making quick work of removing both his pants and boxers. You almost felt bad for looking at him, even though he was stripping down right in front of you. “Trust me, Y/N. You won’t be the one to come between us. It will be them that destroys everything.”

 “Sounds like you’ve got some issues with them,” you said lowly.

 “Let’s just say you’re not the only one that had a rocky relationship with their mom,” he said, pulling on the clean, blue boxers.

 “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

 “It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said softly. “We’ve all got our issues. Just remember that you could never destroy my relationship with anyone. I’m a big boy and I can make my own decisions.”

 “Noted,” you nodded. “I’m thinking we get burgers and pie from Jody’s.”

 “Done deal,” he agreed. “I’m down to play a few rounds of Mario Kart too.”

 “Sounds like a good night,” you smiled.

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

Part 6 coming Sunday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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[katsidhe]

15.20 Final Thoughts

Supernatural is over, and somehow, despite itself, it did the very best it could to please me. That was always going to be an impossible task. But truly, sincerely, that finale was as close to my desires as the show could ever bring itself to come, and so, so much closer than I ever dreamed it would dare.

I am so, so glad that no other regular characters were involved (Bobby aside, but he was brief). How better to encapsulate their own emptiness? How fundamentally fitting, than in the epilogue to their final battle, wherein the entire world beyond them was erased, the wider universe is merely set dressing for them to move through. And it was so quiet this way. This finale wasn’t overcrowded or rushed. It kept its own peace. And it preserved the tangible claustrophobia that 15.19 invoked: that tangled, lovely, solipsistic, toxic conviction that these are the only two people on earth that matter.

It’s unclear exactly how much time passed between 15.19 and 15.20. I like to think it’s been at least a year, given that they’ve settled into routine and that their grief seems less fresh. (Although yes, the concept of Dean dying on his very first hunt without a resurrection available is hilarious, I must confess.) Their calm domesticity, their peace, was lovely to watch (Sam kicking the laundry machine! Sam with wet hair! Sam running! Sam cooking, Sam looking a little less bulky than usual, and happy!) But man, it really is Dean’s world, isn’t it? Even the DOG, which really, really, really could reasonably have been primarily Sam’s, was Dean’s dog first and foremost. Then on Dean’s say-so, they get in Dean’s car to drive to a pie festival for Dean. Sam is perfectly content to go along with all of it.

As if we hadn’t gotten enough delightful fanservice, we also got one last scene of Sam threatening to torture someone to death. :) what a king.

I love that Dean died to an OSHA violation while fighting a random loose end from season 1 (which, by the way, I CALLED IT, I am so proud of myself). It’s perfectly mundane. I truly and deeply do not understand anyone complaining that Dean should have gone out in a way that’s more epic. He’s been there, done that, guys, and remember how miserable it was? Now there’s no cosmic safety net. Dean died in a broken down old barn, saving some kids. Moments like these are when Dean is at his best, at his most fundamentally sympathetic: when he’s not trying to control the shape of the universe or dictate righteousness or let his anger drive himself down into a destructive spiral. He’s just putting his money where his mouth is. He’s not making a broad moral statement. He’s simply putting his life on the line to defend someone who needs defending. It is not an unworthy end. It’s so much better than going out to, god forbid, God.

Did Dean earn a lifetime of peace? The concept of just desserts is fraught. But I also don’t think it’s something Dean wanted. He wanted to keep killing things in tetanus-infested barns until he died. He got what he wanted. And while the arc of his wants has adapted over the years, MOTW hunting is fulfilling for him.

Dean’s deathbed speech was, oh man. It got me good. Like many of the things I loved in this episode, it was quiet. No desperation, no revising history (or not too much, anyway). Just, “stay with me, please. I love you. Tell me it’s okay.”

The quiet of Sam’s grief, alone in the bunker. How still his face is, until for a little bit it crumples again, and then it comes back and goes still. He’s not trying to control his reactions or press back against his sorrow. There is no work to do, nothing to avenge, no one to find, nothing to defeat. He is alone, and the washes of visible grief simply come and go in waves that he doesn’t try to fight or force.

I need the gif of him flinching at the toaster. His startle reactions are my favorite thing. He’s alone underground, there is not a living soul for miles and miles, he’s just buried his brother, not for the first time, but this time, he knows, for the last. And the goddamn toaster goes off and he cannot control the way his heart leaps up into his throat and the way every one of his muscles tightens.

Sam grows old. Sam. Grows old. Sam grows old! SAM GROWS OLD.

Ohhh my God, Sam grows old. Without Dean! Without hunting! Without Cas! With people outside that claustrophobic world, beyond the four tight walls of SPN, beyond the people approved by Dean and by Fandom, who give him peace and love and fulfillment! SAM GOT OUT. Even with the truly terrible wig the image brings me to actual tears. I cannot believe SPN would allow him to have this. I cannot believe that the show let him be happy without Dean. I want to read the set of novelizations about Sam’s recovery.

Of course this was the only way for Sam to get unwound, and of course it had to happen offscreen in flashes. Thank god for the ambiguity. There’s so much potential there, years and years, we were simply told: and at some point Sam’s life gets better, at some point his mental health improves and he feels safe enough to start a family, with someone, and at some point he has a child, and he dies peacefully, he dies loved and with people who love him, and dammit I’m getting weepy again.

Sam quit hunting. Not in a sudden jolt. We see him leaving the bunker on another job. But when he leaves the bunker, he leaves for good. He has so much knowledge, but he does not preserve the Men of Letters. He does not honor their legacy of extermination and experimentation. Maybe he gives someone else the keys, for the books. Or maybe he’s digitized it all, and maybe it’s done.

Maybe his wife is Eileen, or maybe it’s Amelia, or maybe it’s Piper or Cara or maybe it’s someone new. Maybe it’s not even a woman. And maybe she’s a hunter, but I hope she isn’t, and when Sam tells her, haltingly, in fits and starts, the bare outline of the truth, she looks at him and she believes him. And she understands the shape of the trauma he carries, even if Sam can’t quite speak the details, and maybe Sam goes to therapy. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wakes in pain and fear for many years, but over time, it dulls.

Sam’s son is still a young man when Sam is on his deathbed, probably in at least his eighties. Think about the mountain Sam had to climb to reach that point. How many years and years of work did it take before Sam felt safe enough to want a child? How long for him to gently conquer his terror at the legacy his blood might carry: Lucifer and Azazel are dead, he knows this, but how long before he lets himself believe it enough to permit the risk? And then he raises his child, not in fear and loneliness, but with love and support and care. And he makes sure his son is protected, that he knows to salt his thresholds and ward against demons, but his son will not suffer the way he suffered.

Maybe he untangles his thoughts about Dean, maybe he learns that to feel angry with his brother is not to betray him or to dishonor his memory, maybe he comes to a more complex understanding of their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he simply enshrines Dean, and Dean’s memory becomes ever more golden and untarnished, and the Impala becomes truly an altar. The details of how Sam carries Dean with him—the watch, the car, the absurdly large photos, his son’s name—perhaps these are played straight, and perhaps Sam never finds a more nuanced love. In the meta sense I think we are certainly meant to think this. We are meant to see Dean deified here, canonized into a saint. We are meant to view Sam’s fifty more years of life as worship, as a dedication and an offering.

This is the long shadow of the finale. These are the things untouched by necessity and by design: this is Dean’s apology in 15.18, this is Sam not wanting an apology, and not wanting to hear Dean offer one. This difficult work was always and inevitably going to be elided. But there is so much time, decades and decades, offscreen, for Sam to come to a quieter peace.

I think he can do it.

I think Sam can do anything.

I’m crying again.

I really didn’t think I would cry much about the finale. I thought I would cry at the concept of the show ending, but not at what the ending was. I didn’t think any details would actually affect me. But then Sam got old. I am truly and genuinely hung up on the canonical image of Sam finding peace. Good god. He had GLASSES. Help.

My chief complaint (aside from that absolutely awful Carry On cover, why oh why, they should have just played the original again), if I felt at all like complaining at the moment, would be how happy this ending is. But I can’t begrudge Sam that. I can’t even get too mad at the scene that I was SO SURE I would despise: that of Sam and Dean content in a Heaven that is now apparently Great, Actually (even though a prison dimension with an open floor plan is still a prison dimension, but hey, I guess we humans can’t leave earth either). Supernatural clearly wanted Sam and Dean to not be facing down an abyssally bleak afterlife, and I think I’d be complaining about the lack of bleakness a whole lot more if it didn’t have the (perhaps unintended??) side effect of giving Sam even more freedom from Dean than SPN already deigned to give him. Sam isn’t in a shared cell with Dean. He can be with his friends and his wife and his son.

One of the fundamental questions of SPN is, would Dean ever let Sam go? And it’s a question that the bulk of s13-15 has rendered moot with Sam’s growing passivity, and one that 15.20 neatly dodged. And I’m glad it did, because I wouldn’t have liked whatever 15.20 had to say on the matter. This deflection feels true to the spirit of what the show has become.

It was impossible for Sam to find peace while Dean was still alive. And on its own that kind of says everything, doesn’t it? And Sam is still forever denied the peace he truly longed for. Sam didn’t want death to force Dean’s hand. Sam wanted Dean to want to let him go. But the only way Sam and Dean could heal is apart. The potential of their relationship on earth becoming untangled is forever precluded, explictly. And yet Sam’s freedom is validated, Sam is allowed what he sought in season 1 and season 8, Sam is something beyond a hunter and Dean’s brother, and the show let him be, the show let him grow.

Supernatural said Sam Rights, and the world shook.

[finaledenialist]

Okay, your tags on The Empty Post have showed up in my notes and I have to ask. Tell me more. Tell me it all. All of the feelings and thoughts about that scene because what I’ve seen so far? Absolute perfection and I agree wholeheartedly.

Thank you! Okay I basically unloaded most of my thoughts in my tags here but let’s go through this one more time. I may add: this was already said a thousand times by better meta writers than me 3 years ago when season 13 was actually airing. And I will ramble a little about Purgatory, too. Now with that out of the way: 

The Empty. Canonically it is a being, a living immortal being that rules the place or an ‘anti-place’ where angels and demons go are sent to when they die to dream of their regrets forever (this sounds awful and like a punishment for dying despite being immortal, for getting themselves killed or something). Also: the Empty was there before Creation, the Nothingness before Darkness and before Light. 

Okay. But let’s see what other things the Empty represents: lack of anything. Complete nothingness that Cas got sucked into (by Lucifer but also by helping the Winchesters). Now we know that Cas‘I am afraid I might kill myself’tiel had his issues, right (I still can’t believe that we are praising 8x08 thee Hunteri Heroici for being a filler episode with Cas - which is awesome, don’t get me wrong - but we all keep forgetting what he actually did say to Dean there!!! Dean says: are you afraid the angels will kill you if you show up in Heaven? And Cas looks straight into his eyes and says: After all I’ve done, when I see Heaven, I am afraid I might kill myself).

Please remember that it’s not only Dean, Mr. ‘Purgatory was pure’. Cas, after all he did in season 6, after his death in s7, after coming back and being literally haunted by everything he’s done, must have felt that Purgatory was liberating, too. It was some kind of an Alternative Universe where he didn’t have to face the consequences of his actions. He was free of them. It was literally his escape AND additionally it was (well, according to good old christian lore, maybe not specifically spn lore) a place where you are supposed to atone for your sins so there must have been the feeling of atoning, of making things right without actually doing anything specific, where having to survive and not get eaten by the Leviathans was his main problem (= surviving was just enough, nothing was asked of him), which, compared to all he’s done, wasn’t that hard or difficult. He found himself running away from Leviathans which could mirror running away from consequences of his actions - but it was Purgatory, it was at the same time atoning for what he did. It was EASY.

Cas basically confirms that he officially stayed in Purgatory because he didn’t think he deserved to go back to Earth and that is true but what he doesn’t say is: ‘Purgatory was pure and easy and kill or be killed and no other worries than that, no thinking, no real responsibilities which actually was a nice escape from the real world after all I did and been through in the past 3 years’. He wanted out, he wanted an easy choice. Okay, maybe he wasn’t actively looking for an easy way out but when it presented itself - when they appeared in Purgatory - he took it like a gift. We’re talking about a character who spent all his life following orders, who finally broke free and found himself completely lost in the freedom of choices, directionless and maybe wanted an escape. He must have felt overwhelmed but all this freedom (which he basically confirms in 6x20 freedom is a length of rope and god wants you to hang yourself with it). I COMPLETELY understand that choice to escape. 

So in seasons 8-12 Cas has a lot of stuff going on in his head, he gets lobotomized for most of season 8, he is hurt and tortured and treated like shit for most of season 9 and 10 and he ultimately gives himself up to Lucifer in s11 and then he almost dies in 12x12 and he never really got to talk about all of this or work this things out with anyone because Sam or Dean are not really the most talkative guys and Dean in 10x09 basically tells Cas to ‘let it go and not think about it’ which is a shitty advice to someone who suffers from some mental issues if I am being honest (this is like. ur depressed? oh go for a run and smile and stop being sad!!! kind of advice if you ask me). So these issues only grow and grow and start eating him up and please remember that at the very same time Cas is falling in love. I said it previously but I think the moment he realizes what he really feels is 12x12 when he is dying. In that moment he is able to name this feeling but it’s of course covered by: ‘I love you. I love all of you’. 

Now in season 12 he finally gets a proper arc with Kelly (god bless her, honestly, she and Cas had one of the most healthy relationships ever portrayed on tv and it wasn’t even romantic, I could go off about this but it’s getting really long anyway). So he kind of is on his way to find a purpose again - Dean is saved (from hell, from Michael, from the Mark), so he focuses on Kelly and unborn Jack and maybe in his relationship with her he rediscovers love (not necessarily romantic but he sees how she loves Jack) and he does all he can to protect her from basically everyone including the Winchesters. And he promises he will take care of Jack and then. Then he is killed by Lucifer (shattered at the altar of Winchester because he gets involved in the Apocalypse World because of them while having built something for himself with Kelly and Jack BUT still not having properly processed all his previous trauma). 

Okay, so fast forward: Cas is woken up by Jack in the Empty. He is of course confused and stuff (we still don’t know what was he dreaming about all this time he spent there now that we know this is a place where angels and demons dream about their mistakes and regrets <- fanfiction gap #1). He wakes up, he is ‘greeted’ by the Empty and one of the first things he says is that he has to go back because Sam and Dean need him. 

This is his first, automatic thought - I (probably) don’t want to go back, but Sam and Dean need me so I have to, I don’t want to go back for myself because I never wanted to since Purgatory but I know I have to. He doesn’t even think about Jack in this moment. I... maybe it is a stretch but I sense a kind of fear in these words. It’s like he thinks: ‘if I had the chance to come back and chose not to come back from selfish reasons then if the Winchesters ever find out about this they will be angry at me’. But I might be reading too much into this, but on the other hand Jesus fucking Christ this is precisely what happened in Purgatory. He chose to stay although he had a chance to return and the effect was Dean being mad at him. Talk about trauma--

Then the Empty (who was in Cas’ mind) voices his biggest fears: 

'I know who you love, I know what you fear. There is nothing for you back there. Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a constant festering disappointment?'

There is a lot to unpack here because this is the Empty’s (who, as stated at the beginning can be read as a manifestation of not only death but also Cas’ depression and self-worth issues) reaction to Cas saying that Sam and Dean need him. She says: uh oh you’re wrong<3 I know who you love, what you fear, the is nothing there for you, sweetie. Essentially: they don’t need you. No one needs you or wants you there. They are better off without you. Wouldn’t you rather be a fond memory (of actually being useful as in: saving Dean from hell, helping to stop the Apocalypse, helping to fight the Leviathans) than a disappointment (failing powers, makes mistake after a mistake, chooses to protect the unborn Antichrist rather than killing him before he’s born - and not to make this whole thing worse but this is what Dean has the audacity to say to Cas in 15x03: why if something goes wrong it always seem to be you).

I will now allow myself for some privacy, because I am a person who dealt with these kind of thoughts in my head for years, these are straight up suicidal thoughts: no one needs you, no one wants you, you are a disappointment and if you die you will be fondly remembered, everyone is better off without you. And we know Cas was suicidal because he literally tells us in 8x08 and we have no proof that he somehow got rid of these thoughts, ever. If anything, they were always there, present, if not growing. Thoughts like that don’t just disappear. Please remember one more time what was happening to Cas in seasons 8-11. He wasn’t healing. He was getting worse, while all this time managing to keep his head above water for someone else, while the guilt was rising and rising. 

If the Empty represents all his issues: depression, suicidal thoughts, guilt, self-hate, lack of self-worth, and what she offers is: eternal sleep. Maybe not entirely peaceful sleep, but sleep nevertheless, no consequences, no facing your fears, no dealing with anything, an escape, sleep - 

And she prompts him to stop fighting, to go back to sleep because there is nothing to fight for (now the symbolism of him being waken up by JACK who was his new found purpose just before he got killed), but she makes a mistake to confront his thoughts and fears with him. She makes a mistake of taking a ‘physical’ form, putting on his face and voice his fears. And Cas is a warrior and he kind of hates himself, so his instinct was to fight. Of course it was easier not to think about all of these stuff at all, to push it back, to try to forget. But once he was forced to face all of these? He fought back. AND HE WON!!!!! 

WHAT A MESSAGE TO SEND RIGHT?!!! You might have all these issues and not want to face them because you feel you will crush under them but look: when you are forced to face them it turns out you are somehow way stronger than them!!! The moment you choose to fight you already won, you are already saved!!! Because ultimately these are your thoughts and this is your mind and you control it, no one else! The moment you decide, you choose, to take control: you win. You are saved because you chose to save yourself because you decided you are worth saving. And the Empty (and everything she represents) immediately gets angry and lets him go, ultimately annoyed because he dared to defy her and she just can’t win with someone who decides he wants to be free. WHAT. 👏🏻  A.  👏🏻 WONDERFUL. 👏🏻  MESSAGE.  👏🏻

So... Having said all that. There is only one thing left: I have NO IDEA. NO IDEA. HOW HE FOUND THE STRENGTH. TO STAND UP AND SAY THIS:

I'm already saved. You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity.

A FUCKING ICON. STRONGEST CHARACTER EVER. YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER--