#dean winchester's ability to read people

[locke-esque-monster]

To jump off this, not only does Dean have the best bullshit meter around. He's typically the better judge of character than Sam.

For example, I was re-watching "Simon Said" earlier tonight. Dean immediately pegs that Andy is not a killer and not the threat they're looking for. It's part gut-instinct, and part looking at various the pieces of Andy's character and the math doesn't add up to killer. And he's right.

While Sam gets all caught up in his own issues about the YED's special children, comes in with pre-conceptions of what he expects and tries to get the evidence to fit his conclusion. And it doesn't work, because he's wrong.

(It's actually very classical procedural problem in that there's one person coming in with more structured outlook to a case and one more gut-instinct partner who doubts the conclusion the structure adds up to. And neither ends up being 100% right, but the gut-instinct one tends to be more accurate. I literally just watched a Castle episode the other day that plays out like this - 3x15.)

So yes, I think we need to acknowledge Dean's ability to read people as an unappreciated skill too, because it overlaps, or really goes hand-in-hand, with his ability to catch bullshit. Not to say Dean never comes into a case wanting it to be cut and dry, but that's more about if someone's a monster, are they evil, and do they need to be killed. And that's a situation Sam has the advantage on "coming in with pre-conceptions", because he's prone to sympathize enough with the monster to give Dean the time to step back and re-evaluate their character apart from their "monster" status. Something Dean also seems less likely to judge someone for over the course of the show that I've seen so far.

At what point are we going to acknowledge that Dean has the best bullshit meter around?

Because I swear, season 4 is just Dean pointing out how this is a trick and Sam falling for it. The big instance is Ruby, but have we talked about it with ghoul!Adam?

Dean immediately comes in with the mindset it's really freaking weird someone is calling for Dad, and it's a trap. And come the end of the episode, he's right. He's a good example of a character that because they're a little goofy, we can't take them seriously when they point out the obvious. He's a bit of the wise fool, or a comedic Cassandra.

Sam counters Dean's point by saying that Adam's legitimate and John's son. Which in no way invalidates that it's a trap. Adam could just as well have been a monster as he could have been say, luring them in as bait to save his mom by striking a deal with the monsters. God knows Sam knows about doing unsavory things for loved ones.

It's just interesting that Sam, for all he's been hardened over the seasons, is never as good as reading a con as Dean is.

To be fair, Dean had a blind spot to Adam really being John's son, so they were both right in a way. But Dean's more in willful denial because he sees it for a con versus Sam's naivety, exasperated by years of being the "smart one". Because Dean will always have a blind spot for those he cares about (John, Sam, Cas). While Sam will always think he's a smartest one in the room (look how he taunted the ghouls while bleeding out), to his detriment when he's not as street smart.

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: dance macabre—ghost

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name

• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut

• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person

• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought makes him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own

• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."

• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."

• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you

• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile

• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."

• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands

• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin

• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."

• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"

• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding

𝐒𝐚𝐦

• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment

• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases

• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put

• "How'd you know that?"

• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."

• "Oh. Right"

• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it

• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"

• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."

• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again

• "Can I see it?"

• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions

• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"

• "Buddy, I have no idea."

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel

• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask

• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves

• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point

• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly

• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in

• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it

• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."

• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it

• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt

• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books

• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."

• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down

• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically

• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them

• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are skimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read

• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"

• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working

• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head

• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud

• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous

• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"

• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you

• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it

• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations

• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"

• Oh shit.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can I just say that no one I've ever read writes the relationship between exes as well as you do (I'm still aflutter over Procedure).

So I was wondering what the exes relationships are like for other characters you write for? Are they semi-perminent in each others lives despite the split or are they 'and they never spoke again' people?

Were you looking for an answer that includes the dozens of men on my Wildly Inappropriate Chart? No, probably not.

Are you getting one? Absolutely. (Full list and breakout below the cut)

Will put you in a simulation to make you love him again

Frank (Don’t Worry Darling)

Will ignore you

Stewy Hosseini

Kendall Roy

Don Draper

Percival Graves

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes verse)

Abel Morales

Orlando Oxford

Daniel Le Domas

Will secretly keep tabs on you

Javier Peña

James Bond

Tommy Shelby

Diego Jimenez

Gurney Halleck

Horacio Carrillo

Chris Argent

Marc Specter

Duncan Idaho

Eddie Brock

Frank Castle

Boba Fett

Will reappear to fuck up the vibe just after you've managed to move on

Raymond Smith

Don Eppes

Carmy Berzatto

Indiana Jones

Nathan Bateman

Duke Leto Atreides

Ray Merrimen

Santiago Garcia

Dean Winchester

Bruce Wayne

Angel Reyes

Oberyn Martell

Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon

Patrick Zweig

Will be friendly to the best of his abilities but will struggle with the fact that he's still in love with you

Steve Rogers

Andy Barber

Jonathan Levy

George Russell

Harvey Specter

Jake Seresin

Eddie Munson

Josh Lyman

Rhett Abbott

Anthony Bridgerton

Will make you fall back in love with him with one smile, sweeping shoulder touch, and a soft but meaningful, “Long time, no see...How are you?”

Benny Miller

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Will Miller

Bucky Barnes

Rafael Barba

Christopher Pike

Frankie Morales

Marcus Pike

Matt Murdock

Poe Dameron

Art Donaldson

[lol-jackles]

Hello! I read a great deal of your posts and found all of them interesting. The ones analysing spn, Walker, The Boys, etc. Some about Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki caught my attention, as you talked about being a character actor or a personality actor (did I get it right?)

Could you please expand a little more about these kind of actors and their features?

Thank You so much!

A character actor turns himself into the character. 

A personality actor turns the character into himself. 

Think of the difference between Daniel Day Lewis and Tom Cruise.   Daniel Day Lewis has created a diverse range of distinct characters.  Tom Cruise is Tom Cruise in most of his movie roles.

I've said Jared is a character actor trapped in a leading man role because traditionally "character actor" and "supporting actor" were seen as interchangeable.  A leading man is supported by a cast of colorful characters often performed by character actors who have skills to play almost any role due to their ability to transform into variety of characters.  It's the character in each film or tv show that predominates, not the actor or the actor's own personality. That's why audiences often recognize character actors without being able to name them.

Personality actors are usually (not always but usually) the leading man because they are playing to a type that has been established as the thing that they can do and only they can do in their way.    While it may or may not be like their private personality, that's what it appears to be to the general audience and why they get labeled as “personality actors" or "typecasted".  None of us expect Dwayne the Rock Johnson to do any character acting, we just pay to watch him to do stuff that's exciting or funny.   At the same time Dwayne has a compelling personal style that audiences love to watch on screen. It’s one of the reasons why people tend to enjoy personality actors because they’re not subtle.  Tom Cruise’s characters’ meltdowns arem,always just as enjoyable as the film itself.  Jensen’s acting is not subtle and that’s okay.

In contrast the character actors are creating a personality for the role rather than slotting their own personality into a role.  It's why Jared was usually tasked with playing not!Sam characters on Supernatural because he can excise his own and Sam's personality out of Meg, Lucifer, Soulless, Ezekiel, Gadreel, and Justin and give them different personalities.  For example, in the beginning of season 6, Jared wasn't just acting as a Soulless Sam, he's acting as Soulless Sam faking being the real Sam for Dean and there were several times when Soulless Sam almost, but not quite convincingly pulled it off for Dean and the audience.  As someone who did theater arts during my misspent youth, I don't even know how I would approach that kind role.

Jensen is a personality actor, he's been successfully playing Dean Winchester since Days of Our Lives and it made him a multimillionaire in his 30s, so I never begrudge him for sticking to the archetype.  Nonetheless this style of acting was meant for lead roles and I believe this was the main reason why his fans are such unmitigated assholes for 20 years because he was stuck in supporting roles (even on Supernatural) until The Countdown, which they celebrated as Jensen's “employment era" at age 46.

You can read more about the acting stuff here and here.

[m1zumono]

dean winchester and autism because this man is autistic and i will not accept otherwise:

his reaction to sam giving him the giant slinky at the end of 7x14 'plucky pennywhistle's magical menagerie'

actually physically stimming when he enters the bunker with sam in 15x14 'last holiday' and sees the christmas decorations

the boxing episode, 11x15 'beyond the mat', where dean spends the entire episode fanboying and (for lack of a better word) plays in the boxing ring

wearing the same thing (flannel, jeans, in earlier seasons the leather jacket) almost all of the time while not in disguise to work cases

eating the same thing (cheeseburger with extra onions or pie) at almost everywhere they go, as often as he can (about dean winchester and food, i could talk about that for hours he has so many issues with it and it's all john winchester's fault)

his ability to recite movies line for line, and his tendency to communicate almost entirely through references and movie quotes, and expecting people to understand what he means

about references, he makes jokes and references when it's not appropriate, he doesn't understand that something isn't appropriate in a situation where it isn't specifically pointed out to him, and he generally has a pretty messed up sense of empathy and inability to 'read the room'

‘you’re always calling me a geek, but you know every word to every led zeppelin song, backwards and forwards. you can discuss in detail every major rock drummer between ’67 and ’84… and you watch ‘jeopardy!’ every night.’ - directly quoted from sam winchester in 14x20 'moriah'

in 13x06 'tombstone' when they go into the motel and dean talks about the cowboys, identifying all of them and going into quite a bit of detail about a few of them, even though nobody asked him about it and he is absolutely infodumping. 'he really likes cowboys.' 'yes. yes, he does.'

his knowledge of cars, particularly baby, and how he takes her for a ride when he's sad because of the comfort she provides him. also about baby and comfort, the way he offers to let people drive baby when he realises that they're sad, thinking it'll make them feel better as she makes him happy and he doesn't understand how else to help

in 1x03 'dead in the water' he talks to lucas about how he didn't speak as a kid, he plays with the toy soldiers and it doesn't come across as playing with them to make lucas trust him, it actually comes across as him finding genuine enjoyment in it

in 1x15 'the benders' when he's talking to the kid who mentions godzilla, dean brightens immediately and goes off topic talking about his favourite godzilla film, and has to be reminded that he's working a case by sam

the entirety of 14x04 'mint condition', how dean gets to express his interests and be himself and how a lot of people have mentioned that he seems to be genuinely himself in that episode instead of the act he puts on

larping with charlie, no explanation needed

he shuts down when things go badly, often blasting music and ignoring everything and everyone around him

he always picks scissors when playing rock, paper, scissors, and it's actually something that comes up multiple times within the show - in 2x17 'heart', sam says, 'dean, always with the scissors,' and along the same lines, his excitement both times he actually wins the game

in 1x04 'phantom traveller', dean is terrified because of the plane and sam points out that he's humming metallica. he replies that it calms him down, and that just seems very autistic

[panicroomsammy]

I just saw some takes on “queer coding” that make me want to scream so I am going to post (part of) a paper I’m writing on queer coding in Supernatural that some of my mutuals encouraged me to post when I talked about it a few days ago. Tl;dr is that queer coding is a negative thing done by othering and/or vilifying a character - this is undisputed in academia and if you use the phrase “queer coded” to mean otherwise you are misusing the phrase.

Fandom has a long-lasting tradition of reading queerness into works of fiction – dating back to the original airing of Star Trek in the 1960s. Supernatural’s fandom has been no different. The show has, in fact, influenced the fandom subculture as a whole more than any other individual TV show this century – though to explore this in detail is beyond the scope of this paper.

The popular queer readings by fans largely center around the intensely macho elder brother, Dean Winchester. While the character’s overperformance of masculinity may lend itself to such readings, it is important to note that he is not traditionally queer coded at all. The vast majority of the traditional queer coding which goes on in the show instead applies to the more sensitive younger brother, Sam Winchester. The extent to which fans refuse to engage with this queer coding is what this section of the paper sets out to explain.

I propose that this reluctance stems from the fact that queer coding is negative. Characters are queer coded through Othering – a process by which they are shown to be different from their communities and from the heroes. The use of this in queer coding is well established – “all the analyzed [queer coded] characters somehow fitting the form of an outcast” (Svobodová, 2022) exemplifies queer coded characters as outcasts. There is also the theme of “monsters as the Other, representing queer people” (Mudry, 2022) and that “[queer coded] characters are meant to symbolise everything that is bad. In the process, they also become the Other,” (Veera, 2023). Queerness and monstrosity are linked through the process of queer coding, and this link makes queerness villainous. Historically this has been used to discourage deviant behavior and encourage conformity to the norm.

The way that this Othering is almost always part of the process of setting up a character as a villain is well established by scholarship that has focused on queer coding broadly (“queer-coded characters are almost always villains,” (Kim, 2017), “most of these [queer coded] characters are villains,” (Brown, 2021)). While many queer people have become fans of villains in response to seeing representation in them as the Other, villains or the monstrous do not appeal to everyone, and queer people are no exception.

While this may very well be a matter of preference, preferences do not form in a vacuum and, especially in the context of politically fraught topics such as queerness, are often indicative of deeper political issues. Even those who are Othered may recoil at unpalatable representations of the Other in fiction. In The Big, the Bad, and the Queer: Analysing the Queer-Coded Villain in Selected Disney Films, it is stated that “Seeing villains that behave in particular, perceivably queer ways creates “a psychological association” between ‘queer’ and ‘evil’ in the minds of children.”” This psychological association has been created through decades of queer coded villains in media and applies to present day characters that exhibit traditionally queer coded monstrous traits. The negative perception of queer coded and monstrous characters can apply to queer people as well as straight people.

Sam Winchester is a traditionally queer coded character. His arc over the first four seasons focuses on him having supernatural abilities that work to Other him. In the world of hunters – those who hunt supernatural beings – all supernatural beings are considered to be evil and are indiscriminately killed. Sam is one of these hunters, as are his family – his brother Dean and his father John. The development of his supernatural abilities over these seasons Others him in relation to his community and his family. The narrative positioning of such abilities as evil also work to position him as an anti-hero in a traditional queer coded villain role.

The show focuses on themes of the monstrous in its monster of the week format, broader plot arcs, and in relation to its main characters. This is often done by paralleling Sam with the monster of the week, done with the werewolf Madison in Heart (2.17) and the rugaru Jack in Metamorphosis (4.4). These parallels further work to place Sam in the role of the monstrous, even while working to humanize the monster of the week.

Queer people who have internalized the messages of queer coded characters as “everything that is bad” from other queer coded media are likely to dislike characters that are queer coded and may wish to distance their own queerness from such portrayals.

[dreamsandcherrypie]

This is PSA I WILL draw an OC no matter how potentially embarrassing they could be I have little to no shame

Anywhosits here’s my girl Dinah 🧡

You can read her story below & of course it’s got something to do with Dean Winchester ;)

“Your friend is an angel? I’ve never met one.”

“Well, Cas isn’t like the other angels. Hey, maybe he’ll help us find out more about…”

“What I am?”

“Yea…” Dean feels bad about the way it came out causing him to blurt, “I actually think it’s really cool you know. Your uh… abilities are kinda awesome. You’re like a friggin superhero!”

“A superhero that needs to eat roughly 30 to 40 pounds of raw meat each day in order to not desire to swallow a man whole?”

Dean simply shrugs, “Some people are vegetarians or gluten free or whatever the fuck.”

[artyandink]

Let’s Hype People Up

I feel like it’s necessary to do this, I think. Cause I’ve been on multiple platforms and people don’t necessarily get the hyping up that they need. So I’m gonna list what I LOVE about some writers’ work as no pressure tags and see if we can keep it going and hype as many writers as possible. Because let’s be honest, we all need it.

@deanbrainrotwritings - Your characterisation is something I haven’t really seen before, and it’s absolutely brilliant. All of your readers stay true to their personalities and you’ve written some really differing situations and they work. Your writing is so amazing and the description detail is something I aspire to reach. You find ways to shape and write things in a way that really hits home or makes a clear visual and it’s really helpful for people with active imaginations (like me).

@zepskies - How you structure a story and focus on the little, intricate details. You have references and you take inspiration from as many places as possible and that’s what shapes your stories so well. This applies to everyone - you know how the characters you’re writing for act to the T and it’s crazy good. Your storylines are so detailed and well planned and it really shows with how fast you can crank out chapters. You know how you’re supposed to write and you stay true to that style and format.

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - The amount of research that you do going into a fic. Where Things Learned and Things Unlearned is concerned, you did an incredible amount of research, cause I’m a history buff and all of what you put in is accurate to the time period. Description, setting, storyline, it’s all so well written. You can adapt your characters to any situation and it amazes me, as well as your ability to change the manner of speaking to the time period but still make it sound like the character itself. I could go on and on, really, and it wouldn’t be enough.

@rizlowwritessortof - Your effect on the reader (in my personal opinion) it’s so subtly written but it’s incredibly powerful. Like it’s the strongest impact by the littlest thing (pressure equation, don’t kill me but it reminds me of it) and reading your work, even some of the smallest mannerisms that you put in there, whether it be in the speech, repeating something or going subtle and then packing a punch at the end- it’s addictive to me. I can’t stop reading it.

Alright, here’s my hyping up done! If you guys want to hype other writers, go ahead and do anyone you want!

Arty 💜

[queensilber]

Supernatural: Witch‘s Canyon

Posting everything in this book that i think you need to know, lets go!

Summary:

Okay, so, the boys head to the Grand Canyon to solve a case of a fourty-year murder cycle. The spirits of variouse humans and animals alike attack the locals and they need to find out why and how to stop it.

It is set somewhere in Season two.

My opinion:

This was so much fun. Like, it was really like watching an episode, just a lot longer and with the magic ability to see into Sam and Deans (and a bunch of other characters) heads.

It also gave a little bit of a fanfiction vibe, just with the addidtion that everything is cannon and that all the random little facts and quotes are a real thing (i‘ll list those in a second)

And also there were flashbacks of their childhood??? That made me cry??? I hated john winchester before, but now even more so. (More about the flashbacks below too)

So yea, it was definetly worth it and i cant wait to read the others!!

Songs:

This is the music Sam and Dean listened to during the course of the book (some locals listened to music too, but i did not list those)

- „paranoid“ by Black Sabbath

- „turn the page“ by Bob Seger

- unspecified tape by Bad Company

Flashbacks:

There are two flashbacks to Sam and Dean‘s Childhood:

- the first one is Dean Remembering a time when John made him and Sam run through an obstacle course at age twelve and eight. Dean had to shoot a gun during it, Sam just had to point and yell „Bang!“.

In the process of that Sam got injured and cried and John yelled at him to keep going and that he was doing poorly. Dean comforted his brother and encouraged him, leading to sam actually making it. Sam did it and Dean cheered, but john kept yelling at them to keep going to the next obstacle.

- the second one was from when Dean was fourteen and Sam was ten. Their Dad gave them backbags and said what was in them could last them fir four days and they all went on a hike together.

In the middle of nowhere john then saud that they should not trust anyone on what they are told and left them alone, telling them that they should find their way (at very least two days of walk) back themsleves and they shouldnt have relied on him so much and he just… left.

When they checked their backbags they found that most in it was useless and they were also filled with rocks to make it seem like it was more than it was.

Thats so fucked up, like

Those are children. And the worst part, when Dean rememvers this he thinks of it almost positively because it taught him a valuable lesson. I cant even begin to describe how my heart hurt for them.

Random facts:

Here are some facts from the book, i do t know anymor if those are mentioned in the show too, but it hardly matters, i think:

- Sam outgrew Dean at the age of 16

- Dean felt gutity over Jessicas death and thought that it was a „more solid basis“ of guilt than Sam had on the matter

- Sam can differentiate between uniforms of different wars in history just by a look

- Dean hates Rats. A lot.

Quotes:

Some quotes from the book:

John Winchester hunted monsters, ghosts, demons — the creatures most people only believed in deep down in their 3:00 am hearts, abd that they laughted off when the sun was bright and their spirits high.

It was a habit Dean had picked up from Dad — reffering to what they did as a „job“. To Sam it was nore of a Mission, even a calling.

„Sammy really likes cops,“ Dean said. „If he didnt have any talents he might have become one“

Sometimes he thought Dean wouldnt mind dying if he could go out in a blaze of glory, as the saying went. In moments of fairness, Sam knew that wasnt true. Dean didnt care about the glory; he cared about making a difference.

„I‘m coming around to the point, Sam.“ „He‘s Dean,“ Sam corrected. „I‘m Sam“. „Sorry, For some reason, you just look more like a Dean to me“

Gilmore Girls reference?

„You tried to shoot my brother“ Dean said.

Sam belived in a highter power, Dean didnt. Sam didnt have any special knowledge that Dean lacked, handt seen or heard or met God.

Lol, not yet.

Dean had been a kid, hadnt ever had a chance to become anything other than what Dad had made of him. That, finally, was the gulf between them — the canyon that could never be bridged.

Dean was an amazing guy, Sam knew, with skills and abilities most people would never imagine, and smarts Dean himself wouldnt credit, even though he relied on them all the time. And yet, at times like this, he was so humble, so unassuming, that he seemed almost unaware of the importance if his iwn contributions. At other times, of course, that humility vanished. Knowing and accepting both Deans, he guessed, was what being brothers was all about. Maybe I wouldnt want to be Dean, he thought, but i‘m sure glad I have him araound.

STOP MAKING MY CRY WTH

So anyways, that book sure was an experiance and i cant wait for the next one! I‘ll post a review of that as well and will update that post with a link to it one i‘m done!

Xoxo! <3

Next>

[dubina-dawkins]

heyy, um, like, i saw that you take requests for andy gallagher, i love him and just don't see anything about him, so maybe you could do some headcanons with him, literally anything you want, i'll be extremely happy with anything you cook, or if you don't want to do it with him, you can do it with sam too, this got really confusing, sorry, tysm

>HIII!!! i really love Andy and was sooo happy to see your req like finally!!! had some thoughts on him for quite a lot of time so here it is

ANDY GALLAGHER | SFW HEADCANONS

pairing: none actually! tho in some places it's a bit of samandy but you can take it as andy x reader too

warnings and notes: some fluff, set somewhere before ep21 s2, drugs mentioned (it's a bad thing idk if i really need to say it), english is not my first language so mistakes may take place, divider by @bernardsbendystraws

REBLOGS WILL BE APPRECIATED

>> yeah, his abilities are cool - andy sometimes feels like a true superhero...

>> ...but it scares him, when it comes to his beloved ones. so, after his acquaintance with winchesters, he didn't actually use it. like, yeah, he improved, but his trainings were always on some people he didn't know

>> not only did he transmitted some explicit thoughts directly into the heads of people he didn't like

>> once andy was reading some adult magazine... like bustyasianbeauties or something

>> and there was that one guy that he remembered from school... so guess what he did?

>> poor guy looked stressed

>> andy certainly is the person that can panic most of the time

>> but! he still had an idea of becoming a hunter

>> brothers really inspired him...

>> he found a case - some vampire, cool, it sounded easy

>> but it wasn't. again, he's a panicker

>> one look from that goth-looking girl that he assigned was a vampire, a wink from her?

>> he's already in the bar bathroom

>> "sam? it might seem crazy what i'm boutta tell ya-"

>> this woman wasn't even one of the vampires

>> actually! andy calls sam a lot

>> "if he gave me his number, that means he wants me to call, right?"

>> but sometimes he feels guilty about this

>> when he gives sam a call, and instead of familiar "hi,andy! what's up?" he hears that

>> "andy, sorry, really sorry, but it's not the right moment- almost done, dean! 'll call you later"

>> but sam actually does call him back

>> there's not really much of comfort in andy's life

>> that's why he uses weed...

>> nothing worse tho!

>> but there's other addicting things

>> such as cuddles...

>> when someone else's arms are wrapped around him, andy's just so done

>> but he loves to hug other people as well; it's just that most of the times he's shorter and smaller

>> stress mades him lose much weight ig... but his closest try to get him to eat at least something

>> "salads are really good for your health, andy"

>> "sam, you're gonna kill the guy with your diets"

a/n: @figurantedefilme thanks for that req again!!! there's not a lot, but anyways...

[dcwildwestfest]

A Love Beyond Boundaries

By Mydestielbabies_67 | @spnisthewayoflife Art by Rezal | @rezal-art

Coming to Ao3 on April 27th, 2024

Rated E | 29,000 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

Castiel Novak finds himself at a loss when his daughter Claire, a world champion jumper, becomes fearful of horses after a riding accident. Unsure of how to assist her, he turns to his brother for help. His solution comes in the form of Dean Winchester, a seasoned cowboy renowned for his ability to tame the wildest of horses, who begrudgingly steps in to offer assistance. Dean's rugged charm and undeniable charisma not only leave a lasting impression on Castiel but also offer a unique solution to Claire's situation, teaching both the Novaks the real meaning of trust, healing, and the transformative power of connection.

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

"Are you Dean Winchester?" The stranger asks, and Dean nods slowly, still stuck in his trance and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Yeah, uh, that's me. Who are you?"

Holding his hand out, the man continues. "My name is Castiel Novak. I believe I’m in need of your assistance." Dean takes a moment to recover from the shock of the stranger's presence before extending his hand to shake Castiel's. The touch of their palms sends a surge of electricity through Dean's veins, and he can't help but notice how warm Castiel's hand feels against his own.

"Nice to meet you, Castiel," Dean says, his voice coming out a little raspier than usual. "What kind of assistance are we talking about here?"

"About six months ago, my daughter Claire was involved in a terrible accident. She was thrown from her horse during a tournament–"

Dean's eyes widen as Castiel speaks. He holds up a hand to stop Castiel. "Wait, your daughter… Claire Novak? The Claire Novak?"

Castiel nods, a mix of pride and concern evident in his eyes. "Yes, that's her. Claire is a talented equestrian, but since the accident, she refuses to go anywhere near Lucky. It's like… her entire world has been shattered. She used to spend hours with Lucky, training and bonding with her, but now she can't even bear to look at her without breaking down."

His voice cracks slightly, betraying the pain he feels for his daughter. Dean can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man. He can tell that Castiel really loves his daughter, "So you're asking if we can help Claire overcome her fear and to get Lucky to trust Claire again?" Castiel nods again, his expression filled with what Dean can only describe as hope.

Dean crosses his arms across his chest as he contemplates the situation. He has always been good with animals, understanding their fears and insecurities. But helping a young girl overcome her fear of horses? That's a whole different challenge.

Dean takes a deep breath, his mind already racing with ideas on how to approach this task, and he meets Castiel's gaze with a determined look in his eyes. "Buddy, I normally work with horses with people problems, not people with horse problems, so I can't promise anything… but I’ll give it a go," he says and Castiel's face lights up with gratitude.

As they exchange contact information and make arrangements, Dean can't help but wonder how he got involved in something so unexpected. But as he watches Castiel's face light up with gratitude, he knows that sometimes the most important assistance you can offer is helping someone find their way back to what they love.

And if it means spending time with someone as intriguing as Castiel, Dean figures it might not be such a bad thing after all.

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2970

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry, Puberty (cause it sucks), Thanksgiving (cause that should always be a warning), crush, thoughts of being cursed or hexed, hint at another ability

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7 - Thanksgiving

The night before Thanksgiving, Bobby had pulled the turkey out of the freezer so it could thaw. The morning of, the adults had woke early, as did Maria. She quickly did her morning chores, getting them done in less than ten minutes so she could join her Uncle in the kitchen. She hadn’t had any more dreams of heaven, angels, or her parents since she had stopped reading that book, so she was finally getting real sleep at night again. That morning she was not only smiling, but she was excited. It wasn’t often she got to help with Thanksgiving dinner or make pies for afterward.

“Morning,” she told all the adults happily, although quietly, not wanting to wake up Dean and Sammy.

“Mornin' munchkin,” her father told her with a soft smile.

“Hey, Uncle Bobby, can we try something different this year?” she asked him, not even trying to hide her excitement.

Bobby looked over at her and raised an eyebrow, “What kind of something different?” he asked curiously.

“Can we cook the turkey upside down in the pan?” she asked, “I saw it on a cooking show one time, and I wanted to try a turkey cooked that way.”

The adults exchanged a look of interest before Bobby chuckled and looked back at her, “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

She practically jumped for joy, but stayed quiet, not wanting to wake the boys. Maria helped the adults in the kitchen, preparing things for the main course for at least an hour before she got busy working on the apple pies, four of them. Not only did she love cooking, but she also loved baking. Maria was thankful for the size of her Uncle’s oven, as it not only fit the turkey but also two pies on the top rack.

When the first two pies finished cooking, the boys woke up, “Something smells amazing,” Dean said sleepily, to which Sammy agreed, “Apple pie,” Dean added almost dreamily.

Something in the way he said it made Maria smile as she put the other two pies in the oven with the turkey. The three adults were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee and making small talk. Today was one day where none of them talked about hunting or the supernatural. It was a day to be thankful for who and what they had in their lives. Maria was setting the cooked pies on cooling racks when Dean and Sammy came into the kitchen. Dean froze as he looked over at her. There was something about how the few rays of the morning sun were filtering in through the kitchen window and playing across her hair while she moved the pies that caught his attention in a way that made him almost hold his breath. The adults glanced over at him, recognizing that look. John and William looked at each other at the same time. John nodded, a silent statement that he’d talk to Dean about keeping his hands to himself, which made William smile in appreciation. 

Maria didn’t even notice the look on Dean’s face, even if she could tell he was in the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she set the timer on the stove for the other two pies, also checking the timer for the turkey, another three hours before they could eat. 

Sammy went over to her and looked at the pies on the counter, “I didn’t know you could bake, Sis,” he said bemused.

“I like watching cooking shows. It’s easy enough to figure out,” she chuckled, “I made enough for everyone, get some breakfast.” “Uh-uh. I’m saving room for turkey,” he said, smiling up at her, “And pie.”

She giggled a little at him, “You’re adorable little brother,” she told him, ruffling his hair up.

He started laughing while trying to push her hand away as he attempted to get away from her. She reached down and tickled his ribs before he got out of her reach, causing the adults to chuckle at the interaction between the two. Dean on the other hand, still hadn’t moved, unable to stop staring at her. The way she smiled and interacted with his younger brother, the rays of sunlight still playing across her face and hair as it fell over her shoulders.

“You gonna just stand there all mornin'?” Bobby asked Dean, doing his best not to chuckle.

Dean quickly snapped out of it, in enough time that Maria missed the look completely when she looked over at him, her smile fading fairly quickly. He went over and got himself a cup of coffee, not even glancing at her before he joined the adults at the table. Since the boys were awake, the adults headed into the living room and then stopped.

“Boys, clean up your beds,” John said sternly.

Dean quickly set his cup down on the table, “Yes Sir,” he replied, moving quickly into the living room, followed by Sammy.

Maria raised an eyebrow at how quickly Dean had listened to his dad. She knew he followed orders but he did still have moments, especially when she was around, where he deliberately dragged his feet when his father told him to do something. Even with her amusement, she turned to tend the things cooking on the stove. 

An hour before the turkey was due to be done, Sammy helped Maria with the potatoes, peeling them as she cut them up and put them in the pot to boil. The two were chatting, laughing at simple jokes, and just enjoying each other’s company. Dean watched them but would look away before Maria looked over at him. He wasn’t quite sure what had changed that morning when he saw her but was blaming it on the smell of the apple pie, which somehow he was convinced she put some sort of spell on but wasn’t about to say anything about it, not on Thanksgiving. After the potatoes boiled to the softness she needed, she strained them, then mashed them in a large bowl while Sammy watched her. Bobby came into the kitchen and pulled out the turkey to check it while Dean helped John and William set the table. All of their stomachs were growling at this point since they had all saved their appetites for this meal.

“It’s done,” Bobby told them, turning off the oven.

Maria handed the bowl of mashed potatoes to Sammy, smiling down at him as he smiled up at her. He loved helping her. Everyone else helped move items to the table while Bobby carried the turkey. 

“I hope my suggestion didn’t ruin the turkey,” Maria told her Uncle as she looked over at him, and then down at the turkey.

“Well, if it tastes half as good as it smells, it’s not ruined,” he replied, the other adults smiling a little.

Dean glanced over at her again, wanting to ask what she had meant until he looked over at the turkey, seeing it upside down in the pan, a confused look crossing his face. Bobby carved the turkey, serving each person what they asked for before he put some on his plate. Each of them had at minimum a piece of the light meat and the dark meat. When Maria tasted the white meat, she smiled proudly. It was not only soft but also very juicy with it having been cooked on the bottom of the pan.

“That’s it. I’ll never second guess any suggestion you make,” Bobby said, after tasting the turkey, the other adults agreeing with him.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby,” she replied proudly as she looked over at him, “Wait till you taste the pies,” she giggled.

“Yeah… uhh… it’s a… it’s really good,” Dean told her, for the first time ever stumbling over his words when he spoke to her.

She looked over at him, surprised at the compliment, and at the same time, felt something strange, unable to even describe it in her head, “Uh, thanks,” she replied, slightly confused before she went back to her meal.

All three adults raised an eyebrow at the interaction, knowing exactly what was going on between the two, even if neither of them did, yet. There was laughter while they ate and shared fun stories about old hunts, as those were okay today. The atmosphere was light-hearted and jovial. They made sure not to fill up too much, knowing there was pie waiting for all of them. 

They cleaned up afterward, and the boys, including Dean, helped with some of the dishes. When Maria went over to the sink to help out, all he did was gesture to the dishes he’d already washed, implying for her to rinse them. She tilted her head as she looked over at him, but shrugged her shoulders as she began rinsing the dishes. The adults kept a close eye on the two of them. Dean and Maria didn’t say anything to each other as they took care of the rest of the dishes, neither paying attention to the time or how many dishes they’d done. He would glance down at her occasionally but would quickly look away to pay attention to what he was doing, even if he could have washed dishes in his sleep.

She couldn’t figure out why Dean seemed to be being nice to her all of a sudden but wasn’t about to say anything about it. At least they weren’t fighting, she thought to herself as they finished up the dishes. William set the table with a small plate and fork for each of them while Sammy grabbed the whipped cream out of the fridge. Maria was smiling as she placed two of the pies in the center of the table and missed Dean licking his lips. She sliced the pie, placing a slice on each of the plates before she sat down. The whipped cream was passed around the table so each of them could add the amount they wanted. John watched Sammy, making sure he didn’t overdo it on the amount he put on his slice.

Dean took a bite of the pie and his eyes widened at the flavor, beyond surprised at how well it tasted, “This is amazing!” he exclaimed with a mouthful of food.

“Manners,” John scolded him, which made him close his mouth and chew his bite.

“Sorry Sir,” he replied, looking down at his plate.

Maria wasn’t sure if she should chuckle or be surprised at yet again something nice coming out of his mouth directed at her. She also had to admit seeing him talk with a mouthful of food was kind of cute and funny at the same time, so focused on her pie, fighting with the smile that kept trying to form on her lips, which her father noticed.

The others complimented her on the pie and Dean had a second slice, afterward all of them hanging out in the living room. Maria and Sammy played Sorry on the coffee table while the adults drank in celebration of the day as Dean just watched Maria and his brother. He was listening to the conversation the adults were having, adding something from time to time, but his focus was on her. He was still convinced that she had somehow put a spell on him with the pie, knowing that the current book she was reading was on witches, their craft, and hex bags, which he had planned to look for either later that night or the following morning. He knew she’d had to put it in his things specifically for it to only affect him. 

Somewhere around nine she went and did her chores before bidding everyone goodnight, wanting to get through the other books she still had hidden in her room. She knew they were heading out in a couple of days, with no idea when they’d be stopping back by. Being fourteen, Maria never really thought much about boys, as she was more focused on hunting and learning whatever she could get her hands on. That was something William had been thankful for, not quite ready to have ‘the talk’ with her, but he knew it would have to happen soon.

The next couple of days were odd, especially around Dean. He had searched everything that was in any way connected to him, unable to find a hex bag, and had cursed under his breath, still convinced that she’d somehow put a spell on him. It wasn’t that he was avoiding her, it was that he would watch her, and she could almost feel it, but every time she would look over at him, he was looking somewhere else. He hadn’t said any snarky comments and had mostly stayed quiet. The adults knew what was going on, but John would have that conversation with him after they would head out, as well as swear Sammy to secrecy about it.

She packed her bags slowly that Saturday morning, having returned all but one book to her Uncle’s collection the night before, forgetting about the one she’d hidden under her mattress, near the foot of the bed. Maria took one more look around her room and sighed silently before she went into the living room, not looking at any of them as she made her way into the kitchen, then outside to her father’s truck, putting her bags on the back seat. She was going to miss her Uncle and Sammy, as she always did when she and her father were on the road, and it always felt like too much time went between any visits with them.

Maria took a deep breath and managed a small smile before she went back inside to get herself some breakfast, knowing it would be a long drive to where they were headed next. Her father already had another case lined up, as did John. They were heading in opposite directions. Sammy joined her for breakfast, having the same cereal she had picked out.

“Sis?” Sammy asked as he looked over at her.

“What’s up little brother?” she replied, smiling softly at him.

“When do you think I’ll get to see you again?” he asked, looking fairly sad.

She thought for a moment before she answered him, “I’m not sure, but I want you to always remember that I’m a part of you, not only in your memories and thoughts but also in your heart. Just like you are with me,” she told him with a soft smile.

“That’s not the same,” he told her.

She sighed, “I know it’s not the same,” she replied then smiled a little as she took off the friendship bracelet that was on her wrist, then handed it to him, “Here. Any time you’re missing me, you can hold onto this or wear it and it will feel like I’m hugging you, okay?”

He looked at her skeptically, but didn’t turn down the gift, putting it on his wrist, “Thanks, Sis, even if I don’t believe you.” “Guess you’ll just have to try it out after we head out in a bit,” she winked down at him before they went back to their breakfast. 

She’d only told him that in hopes of helping him feel better, not thinking anything else of it. Little did either of them know the surprise that would follow later on that day. The six of them said their goodbyes and parted ways a half hour after she had finished eating. Dean hadn’t said a word to her and had barely even looked at her, so she ignored him, and her emotions as she climbed into the passenger seat of her father’s truck.

“Take care of your dad, munchkin,” Bobby told her, smiling a little. He was going to miss them both but knew they’d stay in touch, “I packed some leftovers in the cooler for you and made sure to send you with a piece of the pie.” “Thanks, Uncle Bobby, and I will,” she replied, forcing a small smile.

William nodded to Bobby before he drove off, the Impala with the Winchesters not far behind. At the interstate though, they went in opposite directions. She watched out of the side mirror till she couldn’t see it anymore and sighed quietly before she looked out the windshield, preparing herself for the up-and-coming hunt that she knew her father would be taking her on.

He stopped at a rest station a few hours later, as she had asked him to, and that was when a call from Bobby came in, “Yeah, what’s up Bobby?” he asked, watching the bathrooms where Maria was headed.

“Will, she found it. She found the damned book,” Bobby told him, both worried and concerned.

“Wait? She fou…” he trailed off, as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks and his eyes widened, “Can you tell how much she read?” he asked quickly.

“I’d say she made it to ‘her’ chapter at least,” Bobby replied as he looked down at the book in his hands.

“Damnit,” William grumbled, “Why didn’t you lock that damn thing up?!” he snapped.

“I did. It was in the safe. I have no idea how she found it, let alone got a hold of it,” Bobby exclaimed.

William thought quickly as he noticed her coming back, “Put it in the box, then put it in the safe this time. She isn’t old enough to read that,” he spoke quickly before he hung up the phone, putting on a smile as his daughter climbed back in the truck.

“Everything okay Dad?” she asked, curiously.

“Yeah, Bobby was just letting me know that I forgot to grab a book he had for me, that’s all,” he replied, lying through his teeth, but she believed him, and that was all he needed.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[brothersapart]

Hey, so I had a guess for Stan Baker's knack. I read a post that it had been used in Brothers Chosen, and I thought about how Dean had somehow managed to forget an entire being on his person. Who also might have been a threat to him. So does Stan have like a stealth ability to kinda make people forget he's there. Like how sometimes someone is so quiet that people forget they are there?

( @borrowedtimeandspace )

This is actually the closest guess to his actual knack that anyone's gotten, so we're gonna give it to you!

Attention Manipulation: The ability to psychically manipulate a human's attention.

Stan's knack works a bit similarly to John Winchester's, in that he is able to divert humans' attention from himself if he focuses on it. In the case of the scene you mentioned in Live and Let Die, Dean was a bit distracted doing what he was doing on that hunt, but Stan was definitely putting out 'don't look in your pocket' vibes that sealed the deal. At least for a bit.

While Stan concentrates on not being seen, humans' eyes won't focus on him and/or they might ignore his general vicinity. Even if he were out in the open and a human tried looking right where he was, with his knack active their gaze would simply slide off him like... uh, whatever it is water slides off. It's an incredibly useful skill for a borrower to have, and even in AU like Brothers Chosen where he doesn't realize he has it, he can still use it!

And though it isn't as easily discovered by him, his knack also works in the reverse: Stan can draw a human's focus towards himself, making it difficult for them to ignore him or even look away if he's really digging in. This could be a handy tactic for diversion, or a way to alert a friendly human that something's going on with him.

Like most knacks, Stan's does have its limits and rules. It works similarly to Sherlock's knack, where it only affects Stan at its base level but he can train it to affect others in a larger area with much greater effort and higher chance of burnout. It also doesn't affect borrowers/littles' attention at all, so even if he's fully hidden from human view, a fellow smol will be able to see him just fine.

[senashenta]

Horror High: Chapter Two

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: NC-17 (in future chapters)

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: Can also be read HERE ON AO3. New chapter next Friday! :)

HORROR HIGH TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

HORROR HIGH Chapter Two By Senashenta

Dean ended up walking him all the way home after all. Neither of them said much. Dean’s thoughts were whirling, and Cas seemed a little in shock, but not so bad all things considered. When they arrived at Cas’s house, though, Dean declined to go inside, instead just checking over the other boy’s neck again, then instructing him to clean it and bandage it, and promising he would explain the next day.

Then he took off back to the motel.

Cas followed Dean’s orders, going inside and straight up to his room, where he dried off, changed his clothes, and then bandaged his neck to the best of his ability. He spent the rest of the night laying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep or even focus enough to do homework because vampires were real. Vampires. Were. Real.

The next day he was tired but felt well enough to go to school and like hell was he going to not go and miss Dean’s promised explanation. He looked for the other boy in the lobby before classes started in the morning but couldn’t spot him, and eventually the first bell rang. He would have to wait until lunch.

When lunch time arrived, he hurried down to the gym to wait anxiously for Dean to show up, half expecting him not to—and was relieved when Dean came around the corner, heading toward him but avoiding his eyes. Why, Cas didn’t know. It wasn’t like Dean had done anything wrong.

“Let me see your neck,” Was the first thing Dean said to him, and when Cas tilted his head to the side, the older teen checked over the bandage there quickly before nodding, “that’s good, it’s… it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

“Good. Come on.” Dean headed into the gym and Cas followed, and together they climbed in behind the bleachers and settled in their usual spot. Cas fished out their lunches and handed Dean his, but Dean just set his sandwich aside for the time being, something serious obviously on his mind. “Cas, I… I’m sorry. That should never have happened to you.”

Cas was halfway to taking a bite of his sandwich but paused and made a confused noise, “why are you apologizing? You didn’t bite me.” Then he stopped, lowering his sandwich a little and said, vaguely, “vampires are real.” Before asking, “am I going to turn into a vampire now? That’s how it works, right? At least that’s how it works in books and movies, I don’t…” And then, again; “vampires are real.”

That finally seemed to break a little of the tension that had built up in Dean, and he laughed weakly. “You’re not going to turn into a vampire. You have to ingest their blood, or get it in an open wound or something. That’s how they turn people.”

“Vampires are real.” Cas repeated.

“Yes,” Dean confirmed, “and they’re not the only things that are real, there are…” Trailing off, he hesitated before pulling a battered notebook out of his jacket—the notebook he was always scribbling in—and holding it out. “This is my journal. It’s… all the things I’ve Hunted. All the stuff I know, about all the things that are out there. My Dad’s journal is—I mean, mine pales in comparison, but you’ll get the idea.”

“Hunted?”

“Yeah, I…” Another hesitation. This was clearly hard for Dean. “I’m not supposed to talk about this to anyone. It’s the Big Secret. But my family, me and my Dad mostly, we Hunt things. Evil things. Monsters. It’s why we travel around so much, we’re always tracking things down to kill them. My Dad’s in Utah right now taking care of a poltergeist situation.”

Cas set his food aside entirely and opened the notebook, flipping through the pages slowly, just skimming some of the handwritten text and drawings. “Monsters are real.” He amended, “and you… Hunt them?”

“Pretty much.”

That made Cas frown slightly, and he asked, “then why are you here, Dean?”

Dean winced at that. “Yeah, about that.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh, “there’s something going on in this school. You’re new so you don’t know yet. But people keep vanishing, and turning up dead and dried up, like husks. Boys. And male teachers. It’s been happening for a while now. So… Dad dropped me and Sammy here to take care of it. It’s my first solo Hunt. I’ve only ever Hunted with him before.”

“Hm.” Cas hummed, still thumbling through the notebook. “Can I… hang onto this? Just for today? I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow, I promise, I just…”

“It’s a lot to take it at once.” Dean agreed, “just don’t lose it.”

“I promise.” Cas nodded, and carefully tucked the notebook into his backpack. Then he picked his lunch back up and began to eat, slowly and deliberately. “Hey Dean, tell me more about your family, your Dad and the Hunting stuff.”

More hesitation, but slowly Dean began to talk, laying everything out for him, giving Cas a clear picture of who his dad was as a person and as a Hunter, the way he had grown up, always on the road with his dad and Sam, the different Hunts he had been on, the different monster they had killed, the different people they had saved…

And once the floodgates opened, there seemed to be no closing them.

Dean continued to talk for a long time, about his dad, about his brother, about monsters that needed to be tracked down and eliminated, and Cas just focused on the movement of his mouth as it formed the words, unable to look away until, a few minutes later, he abruptly leaned over and kissed the other boy, effectively silencing him in an instant.

Dean froze—but then surged into movement again, grabbing hard at Cas’s shirt and shoving him back to arms’ length, green eyes darting over the younger’s face. For a moment, Cas worried that he had just bought himself a punch. Maybe two. Maybe more.

Instead, something seemed to click in Dean’s gaze, and he pulled Cas forward again, dragging him into another kiss, hard and deep. Cas made a little surprised sound in the back of his throat but—well—he wasn’t complaining, so he just went along with it, poured himself into the series of kisses that followed until they finally had to part to catch their breaths, Dean’s hands still fisted in the front of his shirt, holding him close the entire time.

“Well.” Cas managed finally, still breathing hard, “I mean. Sorry.”

Dean actually barked a laugh. Releasing Cas’s shirt, he leaned back against the brick wall behind them and shook his head. “My Dad is gonna kill me.”

“No boys?” Cas ventured.

“No relationships.” Dean corrected, “it’s one of the rules. I don’t think he’d care that you’re a boy.”

“Oh.”

“A relationship is a weakness that can be exploited. If I was just screwing you he wouldn’t care.” Dean heaved a sigh and turned his head to look at Cas, almost appraising. Finally, he cracked a little smile. “I think you might be worth it, though.”

Cas blinked in surprise and couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his own face. “So, this is a relationship, then?”

Dean reached with one hand to grab at the front of his shirt again, tugging gently until they were close once more, and leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah, I think. If you want.”

Cas most definitely wanted, not even the weird monster stuff could change that.

-- --

Though he hadn’t really had a chance to do much exploring of Jacksonville proper yet, and he wasn’t what you would call the Mall Type, Cas had discovered a couple of little stores nearby to where he lived that he rather liked shortly after moving there. They were located in a strip mall a couple blocks from his house.

The first was a pet store, Chicks Dig It, which specialized in birds but also sold things for other animals, including fish food, for his goldfish, and crickets that he could feed to his pet tarantula; the second was called Parchment Paper and was a second-hand bookstore, nothing more needed to be said there, and the third, Magickal Things, was a store catering to the local New Age and Pagan community.

He frequented all three, but that weekend he was in Magickal Things looking for talismans to ward off nightmares and coming up empty. He was also just poking around, because every time he went into Magickal Things they seemed to have a ton of new items that he had never seen before. The place was an absolute treasure trove.

Today, he found himself sorting through the gemstones and reading up on their uses, then admiring the suncatchers that were displayed prominently in the front window.

And then he spotted the little box of sew-on patches and a smile brightened his face immediately. He began digging through the box to see if any of them spoke to him, humming over a couple before choosing one that was a hand, palm out with the palmistry lines labelled on it. He kind of liked that one. Then he continued digging—until he found one that was round, just a simple pentagram. He pulled it out of the box, too.

People tended to associate pentagrams with Satanism, but Cas knew from talking with the shop owner that they were actually powerful protection sigils. This was perfect. Now he smiled down at the patch, pleased, and headed up to the front to pay.

-- --

Two days later found him under the bleachers with Dean again, and he handed the older boy his lunch but didn’t get into his own right away, instead digging out the pentagram patch and his needle and thread.

“Dean, take your jacket off.”

Dean looked up from taking a bite of his sandwich. He grinned. “If you want me out of my clothes you just have to ask, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Ever since they had upgraded their relationship from friends to boyfriends, Dean had been incorrigible, and while Cas actually found it weirdly charming, he refused to let that show. “I’m serious, Dean, I have something for your jacket, just hand it over.”

Dean sighed and wiggled out of his jacket, somehow without setting his sandwich down in the process, and held it out for Cas to take. Cas muttered a quiet thanks and carefully placed the patch on the right shoulder of the jacket before starting to sew. Dean went back to eating but watched him curiously.

“What is it?”

“Pentagram patch.” Cas continued sewing, “I found it at one of the stores that I go to. Pentagrams are supposed to be protection, right? So, I thought…”

Dean’s chewing slowed and he swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. “Cas…”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Cas explained, as if it wasn’t obvious. Blue eyes were still on his work as he sewed, but he could feel Dean’s gaze on him. “I mean—it might not be much, but I’m not a witch or anything, I can’t cast protection spells, this is all I can do. I can sew. So, I…” There was silence from the other boy until Cas was finished and knotted the thread, snapping it off before returning his sewing supplies to his bag and holding the jacket back out for Dean, not quite meeting his eyes. “Here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean took the jacket, but just set it aside and reached to grasp Cas’s wrist, tugging him closer. He leaned in to bump their foreheads together gently, then gave Cas a kiss. “You care about me.” He accused, just teasing, then; “thank you.”

“Of course I care about you.” Cas offered a little smile, embarrassed. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of lunch hour was filled with soft murmurs and peanut butter and jelly flavored kisses, all under the protection of the bleachers and a freshly minted pentagram patch.

-- --

The following weekend, on the Saturday, Cas was invited to the motel for a Research Day. Which, admittedly, did not sound like all that much fun. But spending time with Dean was always nice, and maybe he could even get some kisses out of the deal, so Cas agreed and, with some trial and tribulation, found his way to the Seafoam Motel downtown on Saturday morning with some help from google.

He and Dean had exchanged phone numbers a few days before just in case he needed to call with help with directions. Cas had questioned Dean’s beat-up old flip phone—the thing had to be twenty years old—and Dean had gotten minorly defensive. It seemed he was a bit of a technophobe, at least to a certain extent. Cas actually found it endearing.

Now he was standing in front of the Seafoam Motel, a dingy building with everything painted an off-putting (of course) seafoam green, which had obviously seen better days. But from what Dean had told him, it was pretty normal for the motels they stayed at: nondescript, cheap, discrete, with good locks on the doors. It made sense, if half of what Dean had told him about a Hunter’s lifestyle was true.

Cas pulled out his cell and called Dean’s number. When Dean answered, he didn’t even bother with ‘hello’, just asked, “which room are you in?”

Dean laughed, “eleven,” and immediately hung up.

When he knocked on the door to the room he’d been directed to, there was a long pause before the locks all clicked open and Dean pulled the door inward with a grin. “Hey!” He stepped aside so Cas could come in, “Sammy’s at the library so it’s just us for now.”

“I brought my laptop.” Cas nodded to his backpack, where he had stuffed his laptop, along with the charger, a couple of notebooks and his pencil case. “I thought we might need it.”

“Yeah, Sammy took his with him, so that’s great.” Dean closed the door behind them and stood there for a minute before announcing, “and that concludes the tour!”

Cas chuckled softly.

The room wasn’t large, but it wasn’t exactly small, either. It had two double beds, a small dresser with a TV sitting on top of it, a kitchenette with a wobbly looking table and a couple of chairs, and another door which Cas assumed lead to the bathroom. It wasn’t much, but he figured it had everything they needed. Dean and Sam were probably stepping all over each other, though, cooped up in there as they were.

“Do you two actually cook in here?” Cas asked.

“Are you kidding? We live on take-out.” Dean scoffed, then, “do you cook?”

“I can burn water, according to my Father.” Cas blinked at him, “why do you think I always bring peanut butter and jelly for lunch? It’s the only thing I can make.”

Dean laughed while Cas shrugged out of his backpack and set it on the table (which only wobbled a little, to its’ credit), pulling his laptop out—and he was just setting it down next to the backpack when Dean’s arms slid around him from behind, winding around his waist and holding him tightly. Cas uttered a soft surprised noise, but Dean was already kissing at the crook of his neck and—oh. Yeah, that felt pretty nice, actually.

Dean let go of his waist to grab hold of one of his hands and tugged him over toward one of the beds—presumably Dean’s—where he sat down and patted the spot beside him until Cas muffled a laugh and sat as well. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re really damn tempting.”

“Dean,” The other boy was already leaning to kiss by Cas’s jaw, and Cas sighed quietly. “we’ve been together for about ten minutes. You’re being ridiculous.” But Dean ignored him, continued kissing along Cas’s jaw until a smile began to tug at the younger boy’s lips… and he finally turned his head to meet the next kiss with one of his own. “I hate you.” He mumbled against Dean’s mouth.

“You do not.” Dean mumbled back, grinning, and kissed him again.

Ten minutes later and the next thing Cas knew he was on his back with Dean pressed down overtop of him and they were making out like it was the end of days and they would never get a chance to do it again. They had made out before a couple of times, under the bleachers at school, but this was different.

Dean was half-propped up on one arm against the mattress, kissing Cas deep and firm and hot, his knee pushed up between Cas’s legs and grinding there slightly—and Cas was just going with it, because it felt really freaking good, his entire body thrumming with electric pleasure as he dragged his hands along Dean’s back.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it or not, because Dean would probably think he was pathetic, being new to all this at his age, but he had never done anything like this before—but then again, it wasn’t like his reactions weren’t giving him away, anyway, squirming and rocking under the other boy like he was a virgin. Which he was, but still. And then Dean’s free hand slid up under his shirt, feeling along his side to his abdomen, making Cas arch into the feeling and—

“DEAN! Oh my God gross! You know Dad’s gonna murder you for bringing a girl here righ—”

Dean practically jerked away from him when the new voice piped up from the doorway, leaving Cas to collect himself before sitting up carefully, hair and clothes mussed, to look over. The door was open and a kid no older than twelve or thirteen was standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder and gaping at the sight in front of him. This had to be Sam. Couldn’t be anyone else. Cas swallowed and licked his lips before lifting a hand in a pathetic half-wave. “Uh. Hi.”

“You’re not a girl.” Sam stated, sounding a weird combination of baffled and impressed. He looked at Dean. “And before you try telling me you’re just friends, you should probably put your hard-on away, dude.”

Dean sputtered and demanded, “there is such a thing as liking both, you know!”

“Oh, I know that.” Sam shrugged, “just didn’t think you did.” Then; “Dad’s still gonna kill you.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair and gave a pointed glare. “Not if he doesn’t know about it, Sam.”

“Ooooh, do I have one over you, here?” The grin that split Sam’s face was downright diabolical. “You are going to owe me for this.”

Dean muttered under his breath but finally agreed. “Fine. Deal. Just keep your trap shut about it, okay?”

Sam shrugged again, a seeming acceptance of the terms, and flung his backpack onto the second bed, then plopped down next to it to look Cas over. He had the same kind of analytical way of looking through a person as his older brother did, and Cas found himself shifting uncomfortably after a minute. Dean, meanwhile, announced that he was going for sodas and left the room entirely, probably just to get some air. Finally, Cas cleared his throat and nodded toward Sam’s shirt, where one of the pockets of his flannel was torn.

“What happened there?”

Sam blinked, surprised, and glanced down at his shirt. “Oh. New Kid hazing. You know how it is.”

Cas nodded. He did know how it was; he remembered the basketball incident his first day, the one that had introduced him to Dean. “I can fix it for you.” He offered and reached for his own backpack where it had been tossed on the floor, then opened it to fish out a spool of thread and a needle. “I always have this stuff on me, just in case. Give me your shirt and I’ll sew it up.”

When Sam looked skeptical, Cas flipped his bag around to show off the collection of patches that were sewn across the front. “I did them all myself. I’m actually pretty good at sewing. This one is my favorite.” He tapped one finger against the pair of black wings in the top center of the backpack. “Like angel wings, right?”

After another moment of hesitation, Sam shrugged out of his flannel and handed it over. Cas smiled and immediately got to work. When Dean came back a few minutes later Cas was deep into sewing the tear in Sam’s shirt and barely acknowledged him when he came in the door. Dean tossed a can of soda over to his brother and nodded toward Cas, “what’s going on here?”

“He’s fixing my shirt.” Sam offered with a blink.

“Oh, yeah, he does that.” Dean set another soda down on the bed next to where Cas was just finishing tying the thread off and snapping it with his teeth, then crossed over to perch on the edge of the kitchenette table. When he was done, Cas smiled down at his work, then tossed the shirt back to Sam, who made a kind of hmm face at him before muttering a thanks around the rim of his drink. Cas sat back, hand bumping into the soda that was sitting next to him, and picked it up to open it with a little thanks of his own. Dean just smiled at him from his position safely behind Sam’s back.

“I have two questions.” Sam announced finally, as if he couldn’t stand the silence.

Cas’s eyebrows rose a little. “Mm?”

“Okay, first, what’s your freaking name, dude, I mean really? I walk in on you and my brother—uh. Doing things—I don’t even want to know what—and you never even introduced yourself?” The younger boy sounded exasperated.

“If by walked in on you mean interrupted.” Dean groused.

Cas nearly choked on his cola, but Sam had a point, there, so once he’d coughed a couple of times, he waved one hand placatingly. “Castiel. I’m Castiel. But just Cas for short is fine.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Sam.” And then; “what’s your second question?”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes flicked to Cas’s backpack. “Why are your angel wings black? Shouldn’t they be white?”

“That’s two questions.” Dean pointed out. Sam gave him a flat look.

That was actually a good question, though. Cas smiled to himself almost absently as he considered his answer, one finger tapping against the can in his hands. “I think… angels are God’s warriors, right? That’s how they’re portrayed in the bible a lot of the time. I mean they’re also portrayed as loving and forgiving and graceful, too, but… anyway. I think to be the kind of warrior that God calls upon you would need to get your hands dirty. I think angels probably aren’t the pure, sinless beings that everyone paints them to be. If that makes sense.” He tilted his head slightly, “hence the black wings.”

Sam frowned a little in thought before admitting, “that’s an interesting theory.”

Behind him, Dean just rolled his eyes. “It’s all bullshit. Angels aren’t real. Ghosts are real. Chupacabras are real. We Hunt all kinds of things. But angels? Not so much.”

Sam’s head whipped around, and he stared hard at his brother. “Dean, does he know?!”

“Uh.”

“You told him!”

“I—wh—I mea—” Dean hedged with half-words for a moment, then set his can of soda down and gave Sam a firm look; “we got ambushed by a vampire on the way home from school the other day and I just—what was I supposed to do? Cas saw everything and deserved answers!”

“It’s the big rule, Dean!”

“I know! You think I don’t know?!”

“Was this before or after you started making out with him?” Sam demanded, and when Dean gave him a look, he informed; “just trying to figure out your state of mind, that’s all!”

Dean grumbled but allowed it. “Before.”

Sam continued staring hard at Dean, Dean staring right back, neither of them blinking—until Cas interrupted their little stand off, shifting in his seat, to offer, “I understand how important what Dean told me is. Why it’s all a secret. Telling people could get you hurt, right? But I promise, Sam, I’ll never tell another soul. I care about your brother too much to put him—or you—in danger like that.”

Sam turned back around to face Cas again. “You care about him?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cas nodded, then added, “I don’t kiss people I don’t care for.”

Dean snorted softly and muttered, “oh, please, I was your first kiss and we both know it.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Cas asked with just the faintest flush.

A little, quirk of a smile tugged at Sam’s lips. He heaved a sigh. “Okay, I mean, the cat’s already out of the bag. All we can do is trust you, right?” He looked back at Dean again; “what are you going to tell Dad?”

“Nothing. For now, anyway. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt me.” Dean gestured toward Sam, “don’t you tell him.”

Sam held his hands up placatingly, “I already said I wouldn’t.” And then, “but you still owe me.”

“What does he owe you?” Cas questioned curiously.

“Mmm. A favor.” Sam’s reply was contemplative. “To be determined.”

“I hate this.” Dean muttered.

“You should.” Sam confirmed with a little grin. Then he turned his attention back to Cas to ask, “anyway, what are you even doing here? Aside from the obvious.” A quick glance toward the table, “you brought your laptop, so…”

Cas shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sure it wasn’t still mussed all to hell. “Dean wanted me to come over and help with research, about whatever’s going on at the school.”

“Research…” The younger teen drawled, “riiiiight.”

Dean made the motion of smacking Sam up the back of the head but didn’t actually do it. Cas laughed. “You were at the library and things just… happened.” He, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed, “but now that you’re back we really can do some research if you want. Though honestly, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. Dean said something about dried up bodies?”

Sam hesitated just slightly before nodding and adding, “and cocoons. We’ve had at least one cocoon.”

“Cocoon.” Cas stated almost blankly.

“Yeah, cocoon.” Dean sighed and set his can of soda down, heading over to sit down next to Cas again, “look, you don’t have to be here. You can just go. You don’t have to have anything to do with this.”

But Cas shook his head, “no, I…” He frowned. “I want to help. I can’t know about these things and just do nothing.” He wasn’t a Hunter himself, but the least he could do was help with a little research. That couldn’t hurt, right? He stood up and crossed the room to grab his laptop. “So, lets’ get started. What’s the wifi password here?”

Sam looked at Cas for a long moment before glancing toward Dean and saying, “I like him.”

Dean just regarded his new boyfriend fondly. “Yeah, so do I.”

-- --

The three of them hung out and did research for a couple of hours, then Dean left to go get lunch and bring it back. Lunch turned out to be cheeseburgers, which Sam did not seem surprised or particularly plussed by. He ate the food anyway with only the briefest of complaints about all the grease.

While they were eating they talked some more, just about school and other bland topics, and Cas and Sam exchanged phone numbers. Once they were done, they went back to work, until Cas had to pack up and leave around four to walk home—so he would be home in time for dinner and his father wouldn’t worry about him.

Dean pulled him into a couple of little, lingering kisses at the door before he disappeared, and Sam watched the whole display with sharp eyes, taking it all in. He had never seen his big brother act this way before. It was… different. Not bad, necessarily, just not the norm.

“What?” Dean demanded as he closed the door behind Cas and went about locking it. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him even with his back to the younger boy.

Sam looked back down at the book in his hands. “Nothing. I just like your boyfriend, that’s all.”

Dean sputtered and tried to protest, “no, it’s not like that, Sammy, Cas and I are just—”

“Fuck buddies?” Sam suggested without looking up from his book.

“Who taught you that?!” Dean demanded, then waved his hands dismissively and began pacing up and down the room restlessly, “we’re not having sex, Sam!”

“Sure looked like that was the direction you were headed earlier.”

“You are taking that completely out of context!”

“You were on top of him and had your hands up his shirt.” Sam glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “And then you made eyes at each other the entire rest of the time he was here. Like the whole time.”

“We did not!”

“Dude, seriously, Dad is going to murder you if he finds out.”

Dean stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You promised you wouldn’t tell him!”

“Oh, so now there’s something to tell?” Sam smirked—then finally took pity on his older brother. Sort of. He closed his book and chucked it at Dean, but at the same time informed him; “I won’t say anything. I did promise, and besides, I do like Cas. He’s nice. You could do worse.”

Dean swatted the book out of the air and flailed his hand a little before regarding Sam suspiciously. “Really?”

“Believe it or not, Dean, I do not thrive on your misery. Besides, you know how I feel about most of Dad’s rules.”

There was a brief pause before Dean said softly, “thanks, Sammy.”

Sam tilted his head a little, curiously, “you really like him, don’t you? I mean more than the girls you’ve been with before.”

“I… yeah.” Dean agreed, almost embarrassed now; “the girls were just sex. Cas is… different.”

“Well, he’s a dude, first off.”

“No! I mean—yeah, obviously, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Dean was standing there, so obviously flustered over the entire thing that Sam finally just sighed. “I get it.” He said softly, “you like him, capital L ‘like.’ It’s like your first real crush that isn’t on a celebrity, it’s a big deal.”

“It’s not a crush, it’s…”

“I know, I know. I told you, I get it, Dean. You’re allowed to like someone, and who cares if it’s a guy?”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds before dismissing embarrassedly, “you’re thirteen, what do you know?”

Sam gave him a knowing little smile. “Apparently more than you.”

[rogue205]

Am I the only one who thinks that Eric Kripke is dragging out the Soldier Boy potential return just to get fans of Jensen Ackles to keep tuning in? Because I do. I did read online that Kripke apparently didn’t think much of Jensen during the whole Supernatural run, constantly suppressing Dean Winchester’s development just so he wouldn’t become better than Sam(now I’m a bit worried about the rumors concerning Kripke trying to get Jared Padalecki to come onto the show, especially if Jensen does return). Hope that’s wrong, but I could believe it too.

But I thought he at least respected Jensen a little bit more than to give him a stupid write off like that. Then I remembered what he did to Dean at the end of Supernatural.

*********

Here, *everyone* basically joins up to take out Soldier Boy. It kinda makes sense a bit for Butcher because of Ryan but he and Starlight have such beef against Homelander, I really don’t believe they would join forces with him instead for anything. And it’s partially Butchers own damn fault that Ryan is in Homelander’s grasp in the first place.

I also have to laugh that some people apparently honestly think that Soldier Boy is even worse than Homelander. Just saying.

Why do people think this? According to Screen Rant, it’s because he was unmoved when Homelander got attached due to his man-child mindset and even introduced him to Ryan. Oh and he called Homelander “a f*cking disappointment” and hurt his feelings. Also from the same article, “He’s Homelanders father! He shouldn’t be mean to him like that!” Um, no. Homelander was a test tube baby who was created from Soldier Boy’s DNA without his knowledge, it’s not like they had an actual relationship. 🙄

Homelander has killed lots of people simply because he can, he feels like it and to make himself look better. He has no regard for human life and views them as things or “other” while he sees himself as a god because of his powers.

On the other hand, Soldier Boy seems more oblivious to any casualties he’s responsible for even if he does have a flippant attitude “because it was war”. Plus from what we saw in the show, the two times that Soldier Boy kills lots of people, it was because of a PTSD triggered flashback and not on purpose. His Payback teammates are a different story considering the fact that they betrayed him and sold him to the USSR where he was tortured and experimented on for 40 years. And I say this even being fully aware of how much of a dick he was to them first. Soldier Boy is not an innocent but he’s not the worst either.

Also unlike Homelander, it does seem that Soldier Boy actually has some morals, honor and does hold up his side of the deals that he makes even when those he made the deal with turn on him instead. He was betrayed AGAIN and this time it was basically for no reason other than to write him off.

Quite frankly, Soldier Boy could’ve been utilized for so much more, but he was wasted as a character. And that is so disappointing. I mean what was the point of giving him a new ability that is established as being able to neutralize the powers of other supes if he was just gonna get frozen in storage again.

I’m sure I can run more, but I think I might end it there and edit later. 🤷‍♀️

EDIT 1: now I’ve seen theories that this is possiblely just the beginning of Soldier Boy’s “Winter Soldier” because season three was his “Captain America” phase. Hmmmmm….