#because those ones have multitude of reasons and sometimes is just “Dean wanted to stay at the motel and sent Sam for pie”

[bideanwinchestertruther]

Every time Sam drives the Impala on-screen (with Dean there):

S0102 Wendigo, At the end of the episode, Dean had been captured by the Wendigo.

S01e08 Bugs, Sam drives a few times.

S01e11 Scarecrow, after Dean received a phonecall from John

S01e12 Faith, Dean is dying.

S01e13 Route 666, After Dean's emotional conversation with Cassie.

S01e19 Provenance, Dean is incredibly hungover.

S01e20 Bloodlust, John is there and practically took over their hunt.

S01e22 Devil's Trap, Dean is in no condition to drive.

S03e02 The Kids Are All Right, Ben is in the back of the Impala, after they rescued him and he other kids.

S04e02 Are You There God, It's Me Dean Winchester, It's the middle of the night and Dean's asleep in the passenger seat.

S04e16 On The Head Of A Pin, driving back to the motel form Pamela's funeral.

[holycafe]

Let’s talk about those oddly drawn-out scenes in 15x20, shall we? Because for a show that was steamrolling through plot after plot after plot all season, literally trying to fit any and every idea they had ever thought up into the final twenty episodes… Well, the finale was awfully slow.

Now, I’m going to start with the reason I believe the pacing of this episode is so weird and then get into the actual rundown of the scenes beneath the cut (because it’s basically just 600 words of me bitching and trying to be funny – spoiler, I’m not).

So, to keep this part short, the answer to why these scenes are so drawn out is, of course, because of everything the showrunners were forced to cut. Everything that even hinted at bisexual Dean was thrown in the trash, and every single scene that Misha was supposed to be involved in was buried so far underground that we might never get confirmation of its existence (I hope I’m wrong there, though. Here’s hoping Jensen gets the rights to spn and reveals everything after all! Yes, I’m clowning. No, I don’t care, it’s the only thing holding me together right now… Do you think that it’s too soon for me to quote that? It’s probably too soon.)

Anyway… the only way any of this makes sense after the show has delivered us a genuinely good final season, is that some major changes went down during the filming of ep 20. Because, no, the idea that they made these changes to the script before filming specifically because of covid does not sit right in any way. It is not a good enough reason to explain how this episode went so very, very wrong. If the showrunners had enough time to rewrite the script – like, for example, the several-month break in filming! – then why does it feel like it was all so last-minute?

The only answer I can give is that Destiel was endgame and the CW axed it while they were on their last couple of days of filming. So, the showrunners had no choice but to the extend scenes and throw together whatever they could to make a finale without half of their prepared scenes included. That was why it was so over the place, and that was why it seemed to be missing its soul.

This episode was butchered, minced, and stitched back together again.

So, let’s run through the scenes!

Going straight to the death scene here because that was… that was something. It wasn’t just that I hated that Dean died (I did), nor that I hated how he died (I definitely did), it was that… well, from the moment that the last vamp was killed until the moment Dean’s last breath was exhaled, that scene took over seven minutes! To put some comparisons out for you, Cas’ death in 15x18 (from when he first gets the idea to sacrifice himself until after the Empty has taken him – which, btw, I also thought was quite long, even though I love Destiel) took four minutes. And – off-topic here – that death in Deadpool 2? You know the one that was used to mock extended goodbye speeches? That only took up four and a half minutes.

So, yeah, Dean’s goodbye speech was a long one. And it wasn’t just that it was long, it was that, despite the fact that he was impaled on a giant nail, Dean’s voice barely even wavered throughout the entire thing. And I’m not saying that was poor acting on Jensen’s part.

I’m not.

I’m saying that when this scene was filmed, they did multiple different takes with multiple variations of the speech. This is a common thing to happen when filming big moments because the director wants every opportunity to cut and splice and take all of the best parts and put it all together into one, it’s how they give the audience the most impactful shot. And that is why Jensen’s voice had to stay so steady throughout.

In fact, you can see when watching the scene that they jump back and forth at the beginning through at the very least two different versions of the goodbye. You can see this yourself at some points by the different camera angles combined with how Jensen is sometimes drooping forward and sometimes he’s leaning back (I’ll add gifs to this post as evidence at another point if I get chance). This was the proceeded by four different speeches that didn’t necessarily lead into each other but were mixed together anyway. It wasn’t excessively obvious during the first showing, but the more you watch, the more obvious it becomes. These were all separate takes. (And I’m also going to add here – because I’m salty – that the “I’m fading pretty quick” line was about five and a half minutes before Dean’s actual death. So, yeah, no… not so quick after all, Sunny Boi.)

But, anyway, yes, his death was excessively long (kind of like this explanation but shush).

Next, we have the grieving scene. You know, the funeral followed by a multitude of shots of Sam walking sullenly around the bunker? Very slowly making eggs and cooking a singular piece of toast? Right up until the phone rang, that was almost four minutes. Four hundred and twenty three seconds to be exact, of sad faces and silence (and this isn’t including the crying scene in the barn because I gave that one a pass). It wasn’t even emotional, it was just… there.

Then, the montage! From the first note of Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas until the last sound of the cover version of Carry on my Wayward Son (I still cannot believe they played this song twice, back to back) faded away, the montage of Dean driving while Sam grew old took up a whopping five and a half minutes!

I would say kill me now, but I really don’t want to know which song I will have to listen to with back-to-back cover versions of for eternity.

Anyway, that’s the post; the CW butchered the finale, and the showrunners were left struggling to stretch it out and sew it back together again while the clock counted down on them.

[theythemsam]

absolutely ADORE jo x anna...imagine the yearning, the lovingly stares and 😭😭😭 i'm going to write a fanfic now thanks for the inspiration, your highness <3

I love annaxjo too. It's such a good ship and they both deserve all the sweet and badass fanfics.

First of all, they clearly are the superior hunter with daddy issues & rebellious angelTM ship... they are simply so interesting. Anna, who fell to experience humanity and faced the wrath of heaven for it. Jo, whose storyline is both about growing up and finding your place and dealing with trauma, that causes loved ones to look at hir and see someone ze is not. Jo would be so interested in Anna, both because of who she is (a rebellious angel! Who left her family to find happiness! Radical self love, lets go!), and because of how she is (so clearly interested in helping humanity, so absolutely pro free will, doing your best and thinking about why youre doing things. So alien to the other angels jo knows and yet so familiar to hirself).

Anna would definitely not have Ellen's approval at first (because are we sure an angel, even a fallen one, is better than a winchester? Ok maybe, she probably is better than a winchester, but /child-in-danger-mom-alert/), but Anna Is smart and polite and badass, i'm sure she could gain that. It features Anna drinking Ellen under the table, because i think that would be fun.

Jo wouldnt be the reason Anna rebels (she's already doing that, has been doing that for a long time now), but hir actions would intruige Anna. Unlike other angelxhuman ships, Anna wouldn't have that much to learn from Jo in terms of humanity, but i think Jo could teach her that being human and being a fighter aren't incompatible. And that being an angel and having feelings is possible too. Ze would most importantly show Anna that she /can/ contain multitudes and doesn't necessarily have to cut part of herself out to be herself.

During the apocalypse they would be part of the resistance. Anna raises both Jo and Ellen from the dead again after clawing her way out of heaven bootcamp. They work together after that, trying to stop seals from breaking, rescuing civilians, evading angels etc. Jo could learn a lot about angelic fighting from Anna and they would use that knowledge to fight against angels better. Anna would help Cas get closer to humanity, since she knows both sides, Jo would get closer to Dean, able to have a friendly relationship with him that doesn't consist out of (gender envy) hero worship. (Also endverse joanna would be so!!! So cool!!!).

Outside of the apocalypse, Anna and Jo would be incredibly soft with each other. Even during it they would try to take care of each other as best as they can. If they survive the apocalypse (and they should!), they might settle down. Or maybe Anna helps Cas with heaven sometimes and Jo keeps hunting (only things that hurt people. The apocalypse has changed her view of monsters, there are some on their side, those who want to survive without killing. If angels, in all their fucked up ness deserve a second chance, then so do other monsters), but when Jo comes home every night, Anna is waiting for her call to tell her which motel room shes staying in and they spend the night and however many hours (sometimes days even), Anna can eke out.

Also to keep going w my t4t joanna idea... (you dont have to use that if you dont wanna, but i Love t4t joanna so much...) throwing in transness would make their story even more interesting, bc not only would it be a reason they are excluded from/not-understood by their family, something they can bond over, finding companionship in each other (not just bc they are othered but because it can be a different form of understanding one another, when everyone involved is trans and understands some of the struggles that come with it), but also, again, the story parallels that can be drawn there. Jo, only-daughter-burdened-with-expectations realizing one of the reasons ze cannot be what her mom wants her to be, partially because ze is not a woman, (a jo who can finally allow hirself happiness when ze tells dean to not call hir his little sister anymore, but his little sibling), and Anna, genderless-beingTM, who finds peace and joy and belonging in gender when she was never supposed to have one, Anna who embraces her gender because its hers, because its something she gets to chose, because its one step she took to belong to humanity, but then realized that it had been something she'd yearned for.

If you post the fanfic please tag me or send me a link so i can read and comment ❤

[leahxx129]

No Idea (Castiel x Reader)

Okay, so I had a very interesting dream last night involving Castiel (nothing NSFW, unfortunately :D ) and I just had to commemorate the rare occasion of me having a dream about one of the boys with a fic. I hope you like it!

Summary: In hopes of finding Chuck, you and Castiel visit a Supernatural Fan Convention. At the event you bump into a couple of enthusiasts who uncover some very interesting facts about the real nature of the relationship you and the angel share.

Warnings: sexual implications

Word count: 1.885-ish

Gif not mine.

The engine of Castiel’s pimp car dies out with a chug and your face automatically turns wry as you read the banner displayed by the small congress center’s entrance: XV. Supernatural Fan Convention.

“Remind me again, Cas, why are we here exactly?” you ask the angel as you open the car door to get out, suppressing the gut-feeling that screams for you to stay put.

“Well, we’d like to gather some information on Chuck’s whereabouts and considering that he’s quite the narcissist, Sam and Dean think he may show up here.” he replies while bypassing the car to stand by your side.

“Wonderful…”

“Is there something wrong, Y/N? You seem a little… off.” genuine concern in his voice hits your ears.

You sigh deeply before responding.

“No, nothing’s wrong per se… I’m just – I’m just really not up for this right now, you know?”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it has something to do with the idea that if I go in there, I might run into strangers posing as me and that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”

A mischievous smirk spreads across Castiel’s handsome face.

“Allow me to clarify things… you fearlessly hunt beings more gruesome than an average person could ever fathom and a few literary enthusiasts are what frighten you?”

You roll your eyes at him.

“You know what - I haven’t had my fix of morning caffeine yet so I am totally not ready to engage in this argument right now...” you take a quick glance at the banner once again. “Instead, let’s go in there and get this over with as fast as we can, okay?”

He nods in agreement and you both start off in the building’s direction.

The knot in your stomach grows two sizes upon entering the place – a multitude of Sams and Deans flood your field of vision, along with a few Castiels, Bobbys and Rowenas. You are unable to decide which will haunt your dreams for the next few the days – the bad wigs and makeup, or the even worse imitations and accents. Perhaps a combination of all.

“Hey, it’s a little crowded in here, I think we should go backstage to talk to the organizers. After all, they would be the ones with any insight, right?”

You look behind your shoulder just to discover that the person you came with is nowhere to be found.

“Splendid!” you mutter under your breath annoyed, but when you turn your head back to the front, Cas is standing there only inches away from you.

“Jesus, Cas, I almost punched you! For future reference – don’t scare me like this. Sometimes I hit instead of screaming.” you scold him in a low voice, trying to avoid any unsolicited attention.

He looks at you apologetically, holding up a paper cup.

“Noted and I’m sorry. It’s just you said you would like some coffee so I went and got you this. I highly doubt that it’s premium quality like the sticker on the machine claimed but I figured it’s better than nothing, right?”

“Oh, wow… I’m sure you’ve known it already but if not… I love you!” you say, taking the steamy drink from him.

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want to know the answers to, pretty boy!”

You wink at him and his lips curl into a small smile.

“That. Was. Brilliant.”

Each syllabification is followed by a clap and both of you snap your heads to where the sounds are coming from.

“Beg your pardon?” you question, raising an eyebrow at a short man dressed in all black.

The taller guy standing next to him speaks up instead.

“He meant the bit you just did.” the perplexed look on your face urges him to wallow in further explanation. “You know, you’re obviously dressed as Y/N and your friend is obviously dressed as Castiel, and the dialogue you just did was spot on. The way you managed to capture their dynamic is remarkable. I mean we’ve seen a few Y/Ns and Cases here today, but you two have delivered the best portrayal by far.”

You swallow hard, not knowing how to react to this, but fortunately Cas does.

“Thank you! That’s really nice of you to say! And your portrayal of… uhm… of-”

“Lucifer and Crowley.” the guy points at himself first, then at the short man, helping Cas out before the situation could get any more embarrassing.

“Ah, yes, Lucifer and Crowley. You guys did an outstanding job with their portrayal, too.”

“Thanks!”

You silently pray for the interaction to be over, but the tall guy who labeled himself as Lucifer keeps pushing things to much of your chagrin.

“You know, we used to think Castiel had a thing for Dean.” he exclaims, and you have to try your best not to burst out laughing at the perplexed face the angel in question makes.

“But now we’re a hundred percent sure he’s into Y/N and the feeling is very much so mutual.” fake Crowley adds, making you choke on the sip of coffee you’ve just taken.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks but you ignore his inquiry. Your focus is entirely fixated on the wannabes.

“What- what makes you think that?”

They exchange a proud glance, ready to elaborate on the topic.

“Well, for one, Castiel helped Y/N quit smoking. You don’t meddle with someone else’s addiction unless you care for them.” fake Lucifer points out.

“I think that’s something one would do for a really close friend, too.” you counter his argument in a heartbeat.

“Sure, maybe. But would a close friend take an angel blade almost to the heart for the other, like Y/N did for Cas? That’s something that on most occasions not even family would do, let alone a friend…”

You open your mouth to protest but it’s fake Crowley’s turn to contribute to the debate.

“Yeah, you watch Netflix with friends or have a meaningful conversation with them over a nice cup of coffee, but you don’t get stabbed for them, nah. Plus, I specifically remember that one part in the latest book where Y/N was doing yoga and Cas accidentally saw her through the cracked open door. Now, the thoughts he had were anything but friendly, to say the least...”

“Alright, I think that’s enough!” Cas interjects and you can see a slight blush tint his cheeks.

“Attention, everyone! May I please have your attention?!” a lady with a headset starts shouting few feet away from you, putting an end to your inconvenient discussion with Hell’s fake representatives. “Okay... so, I’ve just got the news that Mr.Shurley is unable to make it today.”

A wave of displeased grunts washes over the crowd and the lady starts lifting  the spirit up, but you don’t hear any of her consoling promises. Your legs are taking you out of there at a quick pace. You got the info you wanted – he’s not gonna be there – so there really isn’t a reason for you to stick around.

Just as you shut the car door, Cas appears in the driver’s seat next to you.

There’s a moment of silence as neither of you can word the gazillion thoughts running through your minds.

“Look, can we just not talk about what those nerds said? Like ever?” you eventually speak up in the hopes that he would agree, but to much of your surprise, he replies with a firm ‘No.’

“What do you mean, ‘No’, Cas?”

He turns to face you and you swear you’ve never seen those baby blue eyes more vibrant than now.

“I mean I’m not gonna let this one go. So, start talking.”

You’re usually better at standing your ground but this time there’s just something in his gaze that makes you surrender before it could all begin, so you just mumble a “fine” through gritted teeth.

“I..uh.. I didn’t wanna come to this convention today because I was afraid that what happened would happen… and ta-da, it did.”

He furrows his brows.

“I’m not certain I’m following.”

“Jesus, Cas, you’re hellbent on making me say this, aren’t you? Alright then, here it goes…” you take a deep breath to prepare for the big reveal, then continue “I’ve been kind of harboring these feelings for you for a while now and I was afraid if I came here, someone who read the books would point it out. And that’s exactly what happened.”

“Oh. So, this is the real reason you were anxious this morning, not the literary enthusiasts and their imitation.”

“Yup. I’m not saying that I entirely get the dressing up thing, but that was just an excuse.”

“I see. The only thing I don’t understand now is the reason why you didn’t want me to know about your feelings.”

You hang your head in shame.

“I – I just didn’t want to ruin what we have now, I guess.”

Out of the blue, he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“What makes you think confessing would’ve ruined it? In my opinion, a little upgrade is long overdue.” he whispers in an even hoarser tone than usual, making your eyes go wide.

“What are you talking about, Cas?”

“I’m talking about the fact that those feelings of yours are reciprocated. They have been for a long time now, I just did not have the slightest of idea how to present them to you.“

Your heart skips a beat at his words. Is this really happening right now? It’s too good to be true, and things like that have a tendency of biting you in the ass. Perhaps you’re dreaming? Or is this a cruel prank? Would he do that to you?

You squint your eyes, examining every feature of Castiel’s face suspiciously, looking for any sign that might give away the truth behind his words.

“Did those nerds drug you after I’d stormed out and now you’re just saying this ‘cause you’re high? Or did an undercover witch put a spell on you? Or did-”

He rolls his eyes, fed up with your ridiculous ideas, and shuts you up the best possible way he could come up with – by kissing you with a profound passion that has been buried for so long and is finally set free.

“Do you still think I’m high?” he questions after breaking apart.

“Nope, your counter argument has been quite convincing.” you say while trying to stabilize your breath. “But you know what would destroy even the last shred of doubt I have?”

“Go on…”

You put a hand on his thigh.

“If you told me about those thoughts you had while watching me do yoga…”

He looks at your hand, then his gaze slowly travels up to your face. Is that lust in his eyes?

“Or better yet, why don’t I show you? I saw a motel a few miles down the road.”

The proposition renders you speechless – something that you rarely are. It takes a good few seconds to regain your composure.

“Wow, pretty boy… that’s… that’s kinky.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea!” he replies, starting the engine.

Usually you detest rest stops once you get on the road but this time, you simply cannot wait.

[avyssoseleison]

Dude, i really need some destiel fluff to calm my anxious ass. Maybe a librarian!cas and researcher!dean? Thank you!

~1.5k of librarian!cas x researcher/student!dean

also, if you don’t know maurice by e.m. forster, you should look it up to know why any blushing is involved at all ;)

“Excuse me,” Dean whispered, forcing his voice to sound as quiet as he could without falling completely silent. He meant to show the librarian he approached that he had good library manners and only spoke up because he had to, to get his attention, but maybe he had been a bit too diligent in his efforts. The guy didn’t even look up from his computer when Dean addressed him, even though Dean was standing right in front of him or, to be more precise, in front of the monitor that was separating them. All he could see of the guy was shock of unruly dark hair, his ears, and the sides of his glasses. Dean waited patiently for a couple of seconds, thinking that maybe the librarian just needed to finish something he was working on and would help him out afterwards, but nope. He stayed hunched over and glued to his computer instead, so Dean decided to try again.

“Excuse me?” he tried again, a bit louder this time. Close to his talking voice, really, but he was already on edge for several reasons, so reining in his voice didn’t rank too high on his list of priorities.

The librarian must’ve thought differently, though. He finally looked up and, wow, but the guy was hot. Like, seriously frickin’ hot. His glasses framed a pair of pretty blue eyes, drew attention to his cheekbones and to his pink lips, and man, had Dean known that the library was staffing such eyecandy, he would’ve asked for help much, much sooner.

Unfortunately, though, the guy was also frowning at him in disapproval. Dean had been so distracted by his face that he forgot why he even approached him the second he had been graced with the sight of his face, but the librarian obviously hadn’t. He put his index finger against his lips in a shushing motion that made him look less like a serious librarian and more like an absolute dork.

“Keep your voice down, please. We are in a library,” he said, and the deep of his voice timber made it pretty hard for Dean to keep certain other parts of himself down, too.

“Sorry,” Dean said, more quiet now and maybe a bit hoarse.

“It’s alright,” the librarian graciously allowed, “now, how may I help you?”

Dean’s brain provided him with a multitude of scenarios he would have liked the guy to help him with, starting with tasting those pink lips, but as he was a proper adult now - or at least ought to be -, he responded in an adult-like manner. “I was wondering if you keep the books of the same author at different places in the library sometimes? Like, uh, if one work fell into two different categories, could you technically have two copies of it on two different shelves?”

The librarian kept frowning, but it seemed to of contemplation and not of disapproval now. “No, I am sorry, but we would not do that. The books are sorted by their dominant categories, which is usually their academic field, their country of origin, and then the period they were published in. This leaves little room for any other sort of categorization.”

“I see, yeah. No chance, then? ‘Cause I looked up this one book online and it said that it should still be on the shelf on the library page, but I’ve checked the last few days and it hasn’t turned up nor officially been checked out, so…” He shrugged.

“Ah, yes, I see.” The librarian nodded a couple of times, then sighed. “That does happen from time to time. There can be various reasons for that, such as people taking the book off the shelf to work with it while staying at the library but never checking it out, sometimes the books are placed incorrectly and are difficult to be found again, and sometimes, the books are simply stolen.” He considered for a moment, then turned back towards his computer, his fingers poised above the keyboard. “What is the title of the book were you looking for? And what is the author’s name?”

“Uhm,” Dean said as heat crept into his cheeks and he could not help but squirm a bit. Which was dumb, really, the guy just wanted to do his job and had probably read all kinds of stuff, but Dean was still a bit shy about… those interests he had only recently begun indulging himself in. “It’s– I don’t know if you even know it, but– uhm, it’s by E.M. Forster and it’s called,” he made a thoughtful noise, as if he actually had troubles recalling the name after searching dozens upon dozens of shelves for it in the last few days, “a guy’s name. ‘Maurice’, I think?”

Despite applying his best efforts, Dean believed the librarian could look right through him. He shot Dean a quick glance over the rims of his glasses when Dean was finally done with his whole song-and-dance and had given him the title. He didn’t look judgy or anything, though, just looked at him, almost as if reassessing some part of him, then turned back towards the monitor and started typing.

It took him only a few seconds and some more clicks to sadly shake his head. “I am sorry,” he said once more, “but the novel is only on the shelf for British Literature of the 20th century, no place else. If you could not find it there or in the vicinity of it, then it might be lost. For the time being, at least.” He looked genuinely sad at that, and Dean suspected that that had less to do with disappointing Dean and more with his probably abiding love for literature. He was a librarian, after all.

“Aw, man,” Dean said, bummed out. He had finally taken the plunge and actually asked someone about the book, and now it had all been for nothing.

“I could,” the librarian began, strangely hesitant, which immediately drew back Dean’s attention, even if not the guy’s gaze, since his eyes remained firmly on the monitor in front of him, “help you look for it. I most likely know the library better than you do, and there are some common mix-ups regarding certain authors and labels that I know of, so there might be a chance that he was simply sorted incorrectly.”

“You’d do that? That’d be awesome, man.”

The librarian nodded in quick succession. “Yes, and– given the chance that we do not indeed find it, I–,” he finally looked back up at Dean, and despite a light blush dusting his cheeks, his gaze was resolved, “I have a copy of my own at home and could lend you mine, if you like that.”

And yeah, that could probably mean nothing, in no sense at all. Dude’s a librarian, so it’s only natural for him to have all sorts of books, and maybe he goes around lending books to library users all the time, but going by the look in his eyes and the way he nervously licked his lips, Dean was hoping that there might be something more behind this offer.

“Yeah, sure, that’d be awesome,” he repeated dumbly. “The next time you work, I could just come by and…?” He made a gesture that only vaguely resembled a book-shaped object as well as him being handed something.

“Yes, the next time I– tomorrow, that would be then. I will work tomorrow.”

“Oh, great,” Dean said, going for a little variation in his positive exclamations, “so, then, I’ll just come by tomorrow and ask for you and you’ll lend me the book.” He knew he was babbling, but there was nothing he could do about it. “I’ll just ask for, uh, what’s your name?

“Castiel,” the librarian replied. It was unfair how much smoother than Dean he sounded, despite this whole awkward situation.

“Okay, Castiel, nice. Nice to meet you, um, I’m Dean.”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, with a soft smile and the hint of crinkles around his eyes and, yeah, Dean never even stood a chance.

“Right, so, I’ll just ask for Castiel and you’ll– you’ll give me the book.”

Castiel’s lips were curved up into the smallest of smiles by now, and he nodded in agreement. “Yes, I will give you my copy of the book if we don’t find it on the shelves, or in case you simply prefer to use mine. Feel free to choose either; I would not mind lending you mine at all.”

Dean’s cheeks were burning, and he Castiel must have been able to pick up on it. Honestly, anyone would’ve been able to pick up on it. He was sweating, too, which added a whole nother dimension of embarrassment to it. “Okay, yeah. Then, you wanna go search the shelves now?” Dean asked, hoping against hope that that might actually calm him down. At least a bit.

But the now full-fledged smile Castiel sent his way let him know that he was already hopelessly lost.

“I most certainly do,” Castiel agreed, still wearing that smile, and got up with a pleased hum.

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Of Monsters And Men |5|

Pairing:(eventual) Dean x mermaid!Reader Warnings: the tiniest smidge of angst. Word Count: 1.8k (I know, it’s been a while) A/N: So... we’re finally getting into the swing of things. I hope it was worth the wait. Just so you know, you have no idea what’s to come. You couldn’t even guess if you wanted to. How are you liking it so far though? Let me know :) Feedback is honestly gold

Masterlist – Catch up HERE (Part 1) - Previous Part

Of Monsters And Men V: Unexpected Arrivals

 How do mermaids spend their time?

Typically, when she was under the surface, she’d waste her endless free time swimming through tall caves, reading for the billionth time the story of her kind’s creation carved onto their caves, how they made peace with humans, about the human world in general, really, learning more and more about the modern language and beliefs. She’d learned those by heart, could recite them in her sleep.

The human version of ‘books’ however was slightly different.

It felt strange to her how fragile they were. With a sharp movement, they were destroyed. She was so afraid to hold the thin paper she would barely touch it, but she loved it so much for a multitude of reasons. First off it was nowhere near as gigantic as the books she knew. Something about finishing and flipping page after page made her feel something indescribable as if with every page a tiny weight lifted off her shoulders, and the smell, oh the smell.

Safe to say she spent the following seven days consuming book upon book, getting lost in different worlds. She slept on the couch, read, ate with Dean, got a better hang of walking and spent late afternoons curled up on one end of the couch, learning the different tastes of foods of the human world and discovering the magic of that strange box called television.  

She was so enamored by electricity –what, you just flip a switch and- woa!-, by the thousands of different foods that existed and the billions of different cooking methods, by the million different combinations of colors the sky changed into above the sea that didn’t all look blue and yellow, and by humans in general. But most of all she found herself getting increasingly enamored by one particular human.

Dean was beautiful and she found out that not all humans were. Sometimes she peeked over her book and got stuck on the moving muscles that flexed and bent when he reached for the thing on the shelf over the TV, watching long, thick fingers that had so gently and caringly tended to her wounds, stretch and wrap around said item to pull it down. She froze, mid-chewing, staring at the tiny fleck of sauce on the corner of his full lips and often gazed at him instead of the show he had on, focusing on the crease between his eyebrows and the way light reflected on his seaweed eyes.

Damn, his eyes.

She got lost in them more often than she’d like to admit. It was like looking at the sky, captivating and never enough.

Day by day, he warmed up to her. Talked to her a little more, asked questions like if she slept underwater and did they eat other fish or did they live in villages or packs like wolves?

There was one question, though, that remained the same. How did she end up on the shore?

The itch was getting more noticeable by the day but she had no clue as to how to get an answer. A hole sat in the center of her thoughts and stood there, waiting to be filled. Many questions remained fruitless. She had no memory of her family, no idea how she found herself with a new set of limbs and about fifteen different injuries on her body on the coast and about zero clues as to who put those three parallel gashes on her thigh. The only thing her mind brought up was a rushing feeling of panic and a need to escape.

She chose to stay away from it for now.

“My brother is flying down from California today.” Dean wipes his hands on the rag by the sink, resting against the counter and Y/n looks over her book.

“Sam, right?”  he nods. “I can’t wait to meet him.” She smiles gently and Dean’s shoulders loosen a little at the sight of it.

“I, uh,” he tosses the towel by the sink and rubs his thighs with his palms. “I kinda tried to tell him about the whole mermaid thing,” he hesitates. A prompt nod later he licks his lips. “He doesn’t really… believe me. Would you mind if…” he looks for the proper phrase but doesn’t want to offend her at the same time. The room grows silent as he tries to find a way to make sense. “You know what never mind-”

“You want me to show him?” His eyes dance between hers for a second or two before an apologetic smile makes its way to his face. “I have no shame in who I am, Dean,” She says straightening her back. “I had no problem telling you. I will do the same with your brother.” Her mind goes every which way trying to articulate her sentences the best way possible. Dean’s smile is wide and grateful as he nods.

“Thank you.” He says simply. He doesn’t have to thank her; she’d do anything to keep that smile on his face. She nods.

True enough, a couple hours later there’s a knock on the door.

Dean runs to the door and opens it wide and it’s then that Y/n realizes that she could never make him smile as brightly as his younger brother can.

Before any words can be spoken, the eldest Winchester pulls his sibling down in his arms, a small ‘oomph’ falling from Sam’s lips. They’re hidden from Y/n’s sight because of the door and as much as she hates to admit it, she wants to jump around eagerly out of impatience. If someone can make Dean’s eyes light up like that she has to meet them.

She stands up and off the couch.

“Welcome home.”  She hears the huff of a laugh before she sees him, broad and tall, taller than Dean, with almost shoulder-length hair and a pointy nose. Sam Winchester, with a sunshine-bright smile and legs longer than the couch, walks in with a duffel in his hands and scans the space when his eyes fall on her.

“Uh, hi.” He says, the smile faltering before becoming more polite and reserved than natural. “I’m Sam.” He walks to her and offers a hand. She remembers Dean’s words, teaching her how to shake people’s hands and reaches for it.

“Y/n,” She smiles back and shakes it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, finally.”

“Likewise,” her brain stutters for a second trying to remember exactly what that word means. She’s never heard anyone use it before and it takes her a moment, but she can guess give or take.

“Your, uhm, brother, he talks about you a lot.” She pulls back and awkwardly shrugs. He shakes his head.

“Yeah, he does that. All good things, I hope.” She nods.

Behind Sam, a young blonde walks in, Dean closing the door behind him. She’s smiling, looking at the house just like the younger of the two siblings was.

“Wow, Dean, you’ve improved this place so much since we last came.” Dean chuckles.

“Yeah, it’s almost done. I just have to finish a couple things in the garage and in the master bedroom. Otherwise, it’s as good as new.” He looks proudly around and Y/n quirks an eyebrow. She makes a mental note to ask about it later.

“Oh-, hi, I didn’t see you there,” the blonde says. She has blonde hair, blue eyes and white teeth, and there’s a small mole between her thin eyebrows. In comparison to the brothers, she looks so petite, much like Y/n. “I’m Jessica, Sam’s fiancé.”

Dean had not prepared her for that one. She has no idea, does she offer her a hand to shake? Does she hug her? Does she just stand there? Crap.

“Uh, I’m, uh, Y/n. Dean’s… friend, I guess.” That was the term, right? She’s beginning to panic, she wanted whoever was important to Dean to like her and that meant both Sam and Jessica, obviously. She ended up awkwardly shuffling her feet with a shy smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jessica grins and slides under Sam’s giant arm, him pecking her temple.

“Alright kids, the pizza’s on her way. In the meantime,” All of them look at him. He nods towards the stairs. “We’ve got something to show you.”

She’s okay with who she is, sure, but had she known who Jessica was or that she’d be here, she would be a little more hesitant to agree. She feels her palms sweat and wants to run as far away and as fast as she can right now but she can’t fail Dean. She refuses to do so. Not when everything has been going so damn well.

Climbing the stairs a little slower than normal, she reaches the top, everyone hot on her heels.

“You two, wait here.” Dean commands and grabs y/n’s wrist. “C’mon, sweetheart.” He nods for her to get in the bathroom. Sam and Jessica share a confused look.

When Y/n is safely inside, Dean closes the door. He turns to her and notices the way she bites her lip and shuffles her feet when she sees the already full tub.

“You can still back out of this, I won’t think any less of you.” He says, green eyes forcing hers to stare at him. Yes, but you will be disappointed, she thinks to herself and that’s all the motivation she needs. She shakes her head.

“It’s okay.” She says and starts pealing layers of Dean’s clothes off of her.

“Woa, okay.” He’ll never get used to how easily she can stand naked in front of people. Never the less he turns around, showing some respect and letting her get in the tub safely. He can hear the rustle of clothes as they fall on the floor and the sloshing of water as she gets in. His heartbeat starts gaining some speed.

“I’m going in.” She says and he hears more sloshing before there’s silence and then the sound of water falling out of the tub in liters makes him turn around.

And there she is.

The tail is too big to fit in the tub so it rests again the plain white wall, in hues of iridescent colors that change in different angles and lighting and he, once again, cannot stop staring. It’s big, one and a half times the length of her legs, foils moving with every breath and almost shivering in the bathroom air.  Y/n’s head is under the water, eyes closed and there are gills under her jaw, on her arms and sides. Her hair is fiery orange and he catches the black change from the ends of her hairs.

“Guys,” He calls out but stays put. In his own tone of voice, he can hear it. He’s captivated, unmoving and simply cannot stop staring. The door opens painfully slow.

“Holy shit,” 

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[lovethediseasedkillerpuppy]

Is Dean's Behavior is Comparable to Sam's?

This is in regard to your post about whether Dean’s actions have been just as bad as Sam’s, and why one might excuse Dean for let’s say, something like the MOC, but be angry at Sam for his S4 demon blood drinking/teaming up with Ruby arc.

First, let me preface this by saying, I’m sorry for the small book I am sending you!

Secondly, I guess I have a different story than most Dean fans. I came to the show WANTING to be bibro. In fact, I came to the show WANTING to like Sam specifically (because the friend who introduced me to the show liked him). I came for the epic bromance. I came with excitement and anticipation. I was sorely disappointed because Sam’s actions and his attitude were not conducive to what I’d consider good or even acceptable behaviors/attitudes [To add, spn is not my first rodeo. I analyze most everything I read/watch in this manner, and I watch A LOT]. So, I do tend to trust my instincts here. I don’t dislike Sam because I’m biased toward Dean and can’t cut Sam some slack. I dislike Sam because of how he behaves in the story. The one bias I do have, comes not from Dean, but from the narrative’s attempt to excuse or erase the behavior I find upsetting or distasteful. It only makes me MORE angry and incensed over it (and that sometimes makes Sam’s behavior seem worse to me). Worse still, is that the story often tries to do with through Sam, himself, which again only worsens the character in my eyes. It’s one thing to do something bad. It’s another thing to then excuse yourself for having done it and demand everyone else excuse you as well (including the people you harmed in the process).

I’m going to be as civil as I can, but I’m going to say that in no way is Sam’s behavior comparable to Dean’s in 90% of these instances.

I guess if you removed all of the context for these situations completely and decided that it didn’t matter, then perhaps they could be semi-equivalencies? But even that feels like a stretch to me, and I’m not understanding why context wouldn’t matter. On the contrary, I feel like context matters a great deal. A man shoots someone and kills him. It matters whether he shot because the man was threatening to kill his wife and he felt he had no other choice, or if he shot because he really, REALLY wanted the guy’s car to get away with the crime he’d just committed. On the surface, yes both men shot and killed another person. But while I would find understanding for the first scenario, I wouldn’t for the second (This is not necessarily meant to be a comparison of Dean and Sam, it’s just to highlight why context matters and why it’s something I heavily consider when judging an action).

That said, I’m all for examining why I think certain actions in certain contexts are understandable or even good, while I find others to be cruel or wrong. My reasons for being angry at Sam’s actions is often heavily based on the context of those actions, what Sam knew or should have known when he chose to act, his attitude and expressed reasons behind the action, and lastly his response to being confronted with his bad behavior.

So with that in mind, I’m going to dive in.

Sam’s stint with demon blood vs Dean and the MOC? These don’t seem very comparable at all. In this case, the actions themselves aren’t even comparable. One was done with a ton of prior knowledge, two years worth of lies and deception, a semi-cannibalistic addiction, violent physical assault, and lots of emotional abuse toward an already, notably broken brother. The other was done without any of that, with in fact coming to Sam, listening to his ideas on what to do about it, and working with Sam to correct it. One was a series of decisions that were made with multiple, on-going warnings, from multiple sources. Sam had plenty of chances to turn around, and a brother begging him to stop, even selling himself to give Sam another option, but Sam defended his choices each and every time and refused to behave differently. The MOC was a one-time decision of a hopeless and suicidal man that could not be taken back, even as he tried desperately to do so. One was done with plenty of notice that who was being risked (other innocents), while the other was done without any impression Dean would only be risking anyone but himself.

Here is a meta that explores it more in depth than I can here, taking a hard look at some of the context that is removed from S4 in a lot discussions. But just to add, here are a bit more context to show why Sam’s behavior S4 was so loathed and not really comparable to Dean and the MOC:

Sam’s knew that his powers were given to him by a powerful, evil demon with the specific purpose of having him lead a demon army in subjugating the world. He knew that the safety of others depended on him NOT succumbing to the influence of those dark powers. He knew that engaging those powers generally led to insanity/ murder/ going “darkside” and that with the single exception of Andy, ALL the other special kids who exercised those powers succumbed to the temptation. He knew that him going darkside would have serious repercussions for other people, not just himself. That it would at least lead him to murder innocent people and at worst lead to the destruction of humanity at the hands of a demon army. And yet he risked it anyway, not even so that he could stop a worse evil, but for revenge.

Throughout S4, both Dean and Sam were actively engaged in a war against demons and demon kind. Actually, one could say they’ve been in this battle since S2, and it’s just escalated to apocalyptic proportions by S4. Consulting with the enemy (even if you believe that enemy has defected to your side) while keeping it a secret from your comrades is…well wrong. It’s making the choice to share information FOR THEM, without their consent or approval. This would be different if Sam were off on his own, but he was not. He was working with Dean, the angels, and Bobby. Yet he gave a demon information about their plans and their activities without alerting them. This is a HUGE betrayal of trust (and would be considered treason in a RL situation). Ruby knew all their moves because Sam told her where they were and what they were doing. I understand that SAM decided to trusted her. But everyone else didn’t get to be part of that decision because he decided for them and lied to them about it.

Sam also knew that Dean was not comfortable with teaming up with or sharing information with Ruby. Dean had made it clear the he didn’t trust Ruby back in S3. It’s hard to imagine he didn’t know how much worse it would be after Dean returned from hell, the land of demons, where he was subjected to the worst suffering imaginable at their hands. Dean, who’d just spent decades of being abused and tortured by demons, did not get a say in telling one where he sleeps at night, was not consulted in the decision to tell a demon his whereabouts. Think about the level of violation that entails.

Sam started lying to Dean at the end of S2 and continued lying to him despite multiple opportunities to tell the truth. At no point did Sam tell Dean the whole truth. Even after Dean sold his soul for him. Even after Dean returned from the dead and begged for honesty. Nor after Dean apologized for over reacting to Sam’s deceptions, ceased commenting on Sam using his powers, thanked and worked with Ruby, and promised not to try to stop Sam from whatever Sam wanted to do. Sam’s lies were multitude (at least 12 that we see happening on screen), told with a straight face, and without remorse.

Sam used copious amounts of emotional blackmail to combat any questioning of his behavior and worse, to deflect any natural consequences from it after the fact. Dean, specifically, who was already in a vulnerable place, got to be the recipient of the deceptions, the gas-lighting, and manipulations. At one point, Sam graduates from emotionally abusive tactics and literally nearly strangles Dean to death.

NONE of this applied to Dean’s decision to take the MOC. Dean’s single moment of borderline suicidal decision making, which he had no reason to suspect would influence anyone else is…just not comparable. At. All.

I will also give you these links (part 1 and part 2) and this link, because they compare some other seemingly similar situations between the brothers, and highlight why I actually find them to be incredibly different, why I end up angry at Sam’s behaviors.

The next compare/contrast I was working on was going to be Amy/Benny anyway, so perhaps I’ll put something more together there. Until then, however, here is a brief bit of context surrounding the Amy situation that does not apply to the situation with Benny nor the situation with Emma (both of which Sam specifically compared to Amy).

When it comes to Amy, I do think Dean was wrong, not because he killed Amy, but because he lied about it. He said he wouldn’t and then he did it anyway. This is why I don’t really fault Sam for being angry (though the abandonment was a bit much, imo). However, Amy and Benny were nothing alike. Amy was monster who’d murdered four people in cold blood (despite her reasons), who Dean suspected may kill again. Sam was only barely acquainted with her. They weren’t friends and weren’t planning to be friends. Sam wasn’t going to stay in contact with her and had no plans to spend more time with her. Aside from the one, incredibly brief memory, they had nothing to do with each other. The one afternoon Sam had spent with her was not enough to really know her or vouch for her character, especially as that was years and years ago. I do not think Sam’s lie back then, though he kept it from John and Dean for years, was particularly wrong. Yes he let a monster go, but she had saved his life and wasn’t killing anyone. He had reason to believe she wouldn’t kill anyone, and reason to believe his father and brother would kill her none-the-less. That was all fine.

But Amy’s track record didn’t hold. That changed when she killed four people. And Dean, talking to a Sam that’s been hallucinating so bad he nearly blew Dean’s head off a few eps before, has NO reason to trust that she won’t do it again (or even that she’s really done this time and hadn’t just used her history with Sam to get away with it). Even if she was sincere, she’d murdered multiple human beings in cold blood and fed them to her offspring.Worse, she only stopped after she was irrevocably caught the second time. She deserved to be hunted. Dean should’ve told Sam the truth of that, and trusted that he could handle it, mentally unstable or not. But this to me wasn’t a heinous wrong, even if it was wrong. And what happened when he was caught? Dean apologized. Sam abandoned Dean without a word and gave him the silent treatment for several weeks. Dean was more than aptly punished for his digression.

Now, what about Benny? Dean fought beside Benny for a year, during a time when it seemed he was being abandoned to die in a land of horrors, by both his brother and his best friend. Benny became a true, invaluable friend, to Dean. Someone he knew intimately, someone he trusted, and the only real person he could talk to about blood washed reality of purgatory. First, he was forced to abandon this friend at Sam’s insistence, because Sam was jealous (despite Sam usually being the one advocating for “good” monsters). That alone was unfair and mean, and horrible considering Sam KNEW Dean had PTSD from it and he himself was doing nothing to help (he basically told Dean “your fine” right after Dean got done telling him how not fine he was. Plus, Sam kept trying to dictate that Dean had no right to be angry or upset over the abandonment, but that’s another issue). He basically forbid Dean from having contact with the one person he could turn to for support and then also offered no support himself.

During Southern Comfort, Sam prefaced his intention to kill Benny, again because Dean claimed Benny had treated him better than Sam had. Sam put an unstable man back in the field (Martin would’ve been a danger to innocents no matter what Sam had put him on) and sicced him on Benny specifically (because apparently he wasn’t satisfied with just keeping Dean and Benny apart). Benny was not killing anyone, wasn’t doing anything other than trying to reconnect with his relative. When Benny was suspected, Dean did not ask Sam to let Benny go if it were ever proven he’d killed someone, he only asked to have time to check to make sure he had. Sam promised Dean that, then rescinded, stood by while the mentally unstable hunter that he secretly hired to follow Benny knocked Dean unconscious. Then they both chained Dean to a radiator and went to kill his friend without any further checking. The only reason Sam didn’t succeed in his intended murder is because Dean interfered, something he was chewed out for from multiple people and later apologized for.

Do you see how these situations are not the same?

And what about Emma? I’ve written here, a little about my anger at the way Emma was treated, by Sam and also by the narrative. But I’ll also write a little more. Unlike Amy, Emma ALSO hadn’t killed anyone yet. Why did Sam suddenly change his policy on giving monsters a chance, especially considering the fact that 1) Emma was a child that had, through no fault of her own, been brainwashed and 2) she was literally Dean’s biological daughter? That alone, (for Dean’s sake) should have afforded her some mercy in Sam’s eyes, even if he’d completely stopped caring about giving monsters a chance (which we see later, that he hasn’t). 3) Sam paused and clearly heard Dean talking her down. She was not moving to attack. So why did he kill her?? The narrative, through Sam no less, suggests the reason is because of his soreness over Amy. It specifically has Sam justify his killing of Emma by bringing up Amy. And how does he do it? Sam shoots her in front of Dean—when she was not attacking, when he could have easily disabled her instead—and then proceeded to berate Dean for hesitating because if Amy died, so should she. This was Dean’s literal child, and yet he’s condemned for even WANTING to give her a chance. Do you see how that’s upsetting and NOT the same at all as killing a verified, serial killer who’d people’s brains to her kid and was not even a decent acquaintance Sam’s (b/c most acquaintances we’ve met more than one time)?

And I won’t even go into the Amelia/Lisa situation accept to say this: Dean did not abandon Sam to a terrible fate when he settled with Lisa, even though he KNEW Sam was technically dead. He looked for a way to get him out (that wouldn’t release lucifer again) and eventually found one. Sam did not have any sort of remains to suggest that Dean was dead (in a world with teleportation none-the-less) and he did nothing to check to see if Dean was in fact dead or not. He assumed, and he did it in a way he’s tried to do before (see S1 Devil’s Trap. Sam suggest they do the same to John, so he can justify abandoning their dad in pursuit of his own vendetta), and then quickly got rid of any way for others to contact him,. He did it so fast Kevin couldn’t even get through (and he even KNEW where Kevin was. He could’ve at least called someone else to rescue the boy). I won’t even talk about the aftermath of their returns here, and how Sam behaves when Dean returns because I’ve already gone on for far too long.

My ultimate point is this: context matters. It’s not just what Sam does, but how and why, his attitude and the way he treats those around him both during and after he’s done it (it’s also how he demonstrates a disregard for others in general). There are things I don’t really like from both boys, but can excuse because in context it’s rather understandable (Sam cutting off ties when going to college for example, or Dean being rough and unstable right after purgatory). But when it comes to things like Sam’s treatment of Dean throughout S4 and 5, Sam’s abandonment of Dean in S8, Sam’s attempt to murder Benny and him killing Emma, there is really nothing Dean does that I can compare it to. Even at Dean’s worst, his heart is clearly in the right place and he isn’t careless or selfish or cruel. I just can’t say the same for Sam.

[treehugginglibrarian]

Now is the Time for #NOTALLMEN

Under ordinary circumstances, I would probably be reacting to our current news cycle by screaming my detestation for men everywhere from every rooftop I could find to climb upon. It occurs to me, though, that in this instance that would fall on deaf ears and would probably be counterproductive. In light of this fact, I’m going to take a different approach and I’m going to say:

#NOTALLMEN

#NOTALLMEN do the things that Brett Kavanaugh is accused of doing. Not all men assault a girl in high school. Not all men attempt to rape anyone, ever. Not all men will, at some point in the course of their lives, physically hurt and permanently scar the psyche of a woman in their lives. Not all men are completely awful, and those men that aren’t awful should be wildly fucking offended by the implication that Brett Kavanaugh’s guilt or innocence doesn’t matter, because even if he did do it he’s not doing anything that every other man before him hasn’t already done. Because, #NOTALLMEN are incapable of treating women like they are whole, sentient, beings worthy of respect.

As evidence of this fact, I give you the multitude of times in my own life that a man could have harmed me, could have done serious damage, possibly could have killed me, and didn’t. Though I claim a general dislike for the male species, I know a LOT of men. I am friends with a LOT of men. And the overwhelming majority of them are pretty fucking amazing. The ones I keep close to me are all really fucking amazing. To start, let’s take it back. WAAAAAAAAY back. To an age at which Brett Kavanaugh may, or may not, have been assaulting people, an age at which we are being led to believe “boys will be boys” and we should just shrug this shit off.  

I spent high school hanging out with a pretty mixed bag of people. I was super bad at falling into any one clique, though my sophomore year I attached myself to a crew of gents that were two years older than me and sort of just latched on leech style. Zach, Randy, Bubba, and Jeff were staples of my sophomore year of high school. I spent literal hours with them after school for stage crew shit (I was a band geek and a musical geek), after marching band gigs, and just hanging out. Weirdly, despite spending hours upon hours together, sometimes on darkened school buses, none of them ever assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

The summer after they graduated, Jeff and I started dating. This brought me up to his college campus pretty frequently where I met his friend and roomie Abe. At no point while we were together, despite us often spending the night alone in his dorm room, did Jeff ever assault me. At no point in our time together did Abe ever assault me. In fact, Abe and I have gotten together since then just to catch up on old times and you know what we did? We ate dinner. And talked about our lives. He didn’t assault me. #NOTALLMEN

Through all four years of high school, there were three constants within my own graduating class with whom I seemed to spend a fair bit of time and of whom I have consistently fond memories. Two of these people were boys. Despite spending lots of time together in the hallways before school or between classes, despite going to parties together, despite the fact that one of them was even on the football team *gasp*, neither Lee nor Dean ever assaulted me. We helped each other with school work, talked about politics and religion, reminded one another that high school is only temporary, and generally just did what we could to make one another smile. We had history class together almost every year and, courtesy of our teacher and our friendship, we laughed a lot during that class. #NOTALLMEN

Either the summer before I went away to school or the summer after my freshman year, I had the first of what would be multiple (though not nearly as many as some of my other Army buddies) pretty fucking drunk experiences. I had gotten reasonably drunk on a couple of occasions in high school, but this was my first fall-down, black-out, what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking, experience. I was out with my friend Rob and some of his buddies, at a barn party in the middle of nowhere. I was completely blitzed. The type of drunk where Rob wasn’t comfortable taking me back to my house (he didn’t know at the time that my dad would have laughed), so he instead took us to our friend James’ house, since James’ parents were well-versed in the art of coping with teens being stupid. Rob did not sexually assault me. None of his friends or the other party goers sexually assaulted me. I also managed to spend the night on the couch at a house that wasn’t my own, without being sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

Speaking of James’ house, I spent a fair bit of time there. His parents were firm believers that teens were going to be stupid, so at least if they gave us a place to be stupid they could keep an eye on us. They’d collect car keys, keep us from fornicating in cars, make sure we didn’t accidentally fall in the fire pit, and feed us breakfast the next morning. I didn’t realize at the time how insanely, incredibly, unspeakably lucky I was to have a friend like James who had parents like he had, thus allowing me to have ridiculous amounts of fun with my friends. We’d pass out where ever we fell, on couches, on beds, in piles outside. In all of the years that I spent getting drunk at their farmhouse and waking up to an amazing breakfast the next day, I was never sexually assaulted. Not even once. Not even close. Hugged, cuddled (it was acceptable), fed, and handed bunny rabbits. But never sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

In case you couldn’t tell, I made it through high school without ever being sexually assaulted. Despite spending TONS of time with boys in LOTS of situations in which they absolutely could have done serious harm to me, I came out of high school thinking guys were just like girls but built a little differently. I treated them the same. I talked to them the same. I had just as many guy friends as gal friends. #NOTALLBOYS will sexually assault someone in high school, or my high school years would have been horrific.

I was less lucky in college, but this isn’t about the unlucky spots. This is about the the fact that #NOTALLMEN are raging shit weasels. I joined the ROTC my sophomore year of college. By my junior year, I was tucked into a commissioning crew of a whopping seven people. Six dudes, and me. We did basically everything together. Jason, Jim, John, Nathan, Sean, Elias, and little ol’ me. We spent time in the field together. We spent time in hotels together. We spent time on road trips, in bars, at house parties, and doing our homework together. Had you told me when I was in college that a decade later I would be besties with none of these men and that I would only be in nominal contact with one or two, I would have thought you crazy. These men were my heart and soul. Life is a fickle fuck, though, and we eventually went our separate ways. At no time before this occurred, however, did any one of them ever sexually assault me. #NOTALLMEN

My ex-husband, though a stubborn man who apparently refused to believe he couldn’t turn me into a baby-wanting Catholic, never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN 

During the multiple training rounds the ROTC put me through, I usually found myself spending time with dudes. We’d camp together in the field, dine together, and if there was time, inevitably get shit faced together at some point in time. We’d fall asleep in piles outside the barracks, pick each other up when it was time to get moving, and remind each other that water was necessary. No matter how drunk we got, or how alone we seemed, I was never sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

I moved to Israel where I was sexually assaulted with some regularity by the Palestinian men living there but, again, this isn’t about them. This about the fact that #NOTALLMEN are goddamned fuck nuggets. I spent more time with my friends Bill, Dave, and Matt then I think I could ever properly tabulate. I literally took to calling Dave my older brother because he was older than me and he was exactly as I pictured an older brother of mine would be (interesting factoid, I have since found my actual older brother and I wasn’t too far off. Tim and Dave are VERY, VERY similar creatures). I greeted them with unsolicited hugs, fell asleep on their shoulders during movie nights or on long car trips, and was generally convinced they were my own, personal, human teddy bears. If they were bothered by this overabundance of affection on my part, they didn’t show it. And they definitely didn’t sexually assault me for it. #NOTALLMEN

During deployment, I was one of fewer than ten women in my company of over 100 people. Though I believe they might have beaten up someone from another company who they overheard say inappropriate things about me, and I watched one of my NCOs threaten a Warrant Officer who was making me super uncomfortable (an Officer who was chaptered out for rape and sexual assault as I was coming off of active duty), no one in my company ever harmed me. They picked on me, they teased me, they kept me safe, they trained me, they demanded more of me and demanded better of me, and they put me back together every time the higher ups tried to break me. They never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

Later, while going through a particularly rough patch involving a man who wasn’t all that stellar, a Warrant Officer we fondly called “Uncle” Rick basically adopted me. He kept me safe in a completely non-paternalistic way, ensuring that the bad guy stayed at bay and that, if he wasn’t on a completely different universe, he was at least nowhere near me. He once told me that if said bad guy ever showed up trying to hurt me, to call him first. He’d make it there before the cops would. I never doubted for a second that if I needed him, he’d be there. The vast majority of the men I met while in uniform were good humans who never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN    

One of my very best friends I acquired courtesy of my time on the Brigade staff. I have spent quite a bit of time with my friend Scott, running, talking, exploring breakfast spots in Alexandria, and just generally doing the things you do when you’re with one of your favorite people. I have stayed up until 1am with him, sitting on his couch and drinking tea, and you know what happened when we finally went to bed? He hugged me, told me how happy he was I was visiting, and told me to sleep well. He didn’t sexually assault me, because he’s one of my best friends and that’s a shitty fucking thing to do to anyone so it’s a super shitty thing to do to one of your best friends. #NOTALLMEN because some men are fanfuckingtastic.

Speaking of fanfuckingtastic men, my more local bestie Eric has never sexually assaulted me, either. HOURS upon HOURS spent out on the trails, or eating ice cream, or in his bike shop. Many of these hours spent alone. He’s bigger than me. He’s stronger than me. The woods are a scary and lonely place. But, like Scott, he’s never sexually assaulted me. I can’t say for certain, but I think that, like Scott, it’s because he’s too fond of me to hurt me and he knows that sexually assaulting me would hurt me. Also, like Scott, he’s just not inclined to sexually assault anyone. Because #NOTALLMEN. I know this, for a fact, because two of my dearest friends are men who have never, and will never, hurt me. Or anyone. 

No worries. We’re almost done. I’m almost out of men in my life to call out for their awesome ability to not rape and/or assault people.

I joined a CrossFit gym a little over two years ago. On day one, I was the only person in the gym with my coach, Adam. Just me. And a dude who’s built like a Greek god and could pick me up and break me. You know what happened? The same thing that’s happened every single time I’ve been the only person in class since then. He taught me how to lift shit and corrected my form. The longer I’ve been there the more we’ve taken to bullshitting about life while I’m lifting, but he’s never hurt me. In fact, none of the men in the gym have ever hurt me. I’ve been in the gym alone with my other coach as well, and though we give Jeff innate amounts of shit for basically being everyone’s disappointed dad at all times, he’d never actively seek to hurt any of his athletes. I have showed up for classes where I was the only woman in a room with a male coach and five or six male athletes. And all we did was work out. No sexual assault took place. #NOTALLMEN Even when they’re absolutely strong enough.

The idea that what Kavanaugh may have done should be brushed aside as an excusable indiscretion because “all men” will do something of that nature at some point in their lives is complete and utter horse shit. Indefensible, wildly offensive, horse shit. The only way men would ever believe this is if they, themselves, are abusers. The only way women would believe it is if they have been abused far too many times. #NOTALLMEN are human shit stains, so why the hell are we inventing a narrative that says they are?