#fuckboy dean

[overactiveprefrontalcortex]

dean looks at you like this after you tell him you wanna fuck

[jellybracelet]

b&w dean: wendigo 

[blacknidstang]

It's been a long day, pass the weecest

[poognthebrainbois]

SHUT THE FUCK UP

Everyone talks about how Jackles absolutely bodied Dean but no one talks about when he was

Michael

I am ill.

[ghostcreaturetypething]

“You’re afraid of my mother?”

“I think so.” Oh my god

[19catsncounting]

I can't find any reason why Bela Talbot couldn't have been the righteous man who breaks in Hell to set off the apocalypse so you know what that's how Jessifer might speedrun the first four seasons.

Bela Talbot sold her soul to kill a child predator. Bela was a child whose first act of autonomy was saving and condemning a child - herself. Bela steals, lies, probably kills - none of these are disqualifiers for the title of righteousness. Bela does bad things to bad people, she puts herself in a very dangerous underbelly where she has nothing but her wits, charm, and a few goodies she's scrounged up. And she put herself there. She doesn't have to live in a world full of monsters, but that's where she believes she belongs. That's where she tries to save herself. She has more agency and autonomy and more of a space to define herself as righteous than Dean can when a year out from John's death, he is still living in his shadow.

And the tragedy of the righteous breaking under the weight of the rack is how undeserved it is. How the world should have stopped to fight against it. And Bela Talbot Didn't Fucking Deserve It.

[missmisdemeanor]

the most embarrassing thing about dean being such a fuckboy is that it would work on me

[overactiveprefrontalcortex]

i have such a thing for s1!dean you guys dont get it

made by @ghostgirluna 🫶

[roosterforme]

In the Navy Now | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: When Bradley and Jake catch their wives in the midst of a lie, Bradley wonders what made you think you couldn't be honest with him. He soon realizes you have a trick up your sleeve, one that makes his work day a lot more exciting. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, adult language, math as foreplay

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

"You know what really sucks?" Bradley mused as he sat at a table for two in the cafeteria on base.

"What's that?" Jake asked in response, digging his fork into a bowl of pasta.

Bradley looked around the room at everyone else and sighed. "You and I are forced to socialize all the time now, because our wives are best friends."

He saw Jake on Saturday, and also last night at the bar, and again every damn day at work.

Jake shrugged as he took a bite of his lunch. "It's not that bad."

"Speak for yourself. I��literally can't understand what Jessica sees in you."

As soon as he heard Jake's laugh, Bradley knew what was coming. "You're literally the last person who should be making comments like that. Your wife is so hot, it's absolutely unbelievable she is with you willingly. She had ten years to come to her senses."

Bradley smiled as he thought about you. "She missed me."

Jake was shaking his head. "She must have been with some seriously ugly guys or something in those ten years."

Bradley was laughing now as he said, "I'm telling you, she missed me as much as I missed her."

"Riiiight. I'm about to text her and ask for verification on that one."

Bradley poked at his salad and murmured, "Don't even bother. She's in some sort of math seminar with Dean Walters all day. Told me not to try reaching her unless it's an emergency."

"Are you sure?" Jake asked, giving him a funny look. "Jess said she had a department meeting with the dean today. For the science department."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course I'm sure. I even packed her an extra snack. Unlike you, I actually listen to my wife when she talks. I'm sure you're wrong."

But Jake was already digging in the pocket of his flight suit for his phone, and when he unlocked it and slid it across the table, Bradley picked it up. He skimmed a text that Jessica sent just a few hours ago.

I love you! Don't forget, I'll be unreachable most of the day. Physics meeting with Dean Walters. 

Bradley frowned. If this was true, then you lied to him. You never lied to him. He tried his best to let you know that you never had to do that. But now he remembered that you even went so far as to tell him you didn't need a ride home from campus today, and that actually seemed suspicious, too.

"Why do they want us to think they're busy all day?"

"It doesn't really make any sense," Jake said as he set his fork down. "Damn. Jess knows she can talk to me about anything."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, "I don't like this shit." The uneasy feeling seemed to spread through his entire body as he stood. "We need to get going. Special class today, remember?"

"Fuck," Jake muttered under his breath, clearly as excited about the guest lecturer as Bradley was. Sitting in the classroom for a few hours was usually always tedious compared to flying, but the lectures that Cyclone had been adding to their schedules randomly over the past few months were worse than the most boring class Bradley ever took at the University of Virginia.

"Let's get this over with," he said, dropping his tray off and fighting the urge to text you just to see what you'd have to say. Now he was going to have to figure out a way to call you out about lying later. But it was still puzzling him as to why you and Jessica would both tell the same exact lie. What was the point of that? If you didn't want Bradley to bother you at work, that was all you needed to say. But it wasn't like he was annoying like Jake was; he could understand Jessica needing a break from her husband, but did you need one too?

He was still trying to figure out if there was something going wrong with his marriage when he walked into the classroom. Cyclone was standing at the front, hands on his hips, glaring at Bradley and Jake as they walked inside with two minutes to spare. The only seats left were both up in the front row, and Bradley groaned as he dropped down into one of them. The last guest speaker they had spit the entire time he talked, and the one before that spoke at full volume like she was teaching a room full of hundreds of people rather than the twenty four that were gathered.

"I regret not getting here early," Jake murmured, and Bradley nodded as he shifted in his seat and messed with the cuffs of the sleeves of his flight suit. He was really hung up on what you could possibly be doing today, and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to pay attention to this lecture topic at all. And that's when he noticed what was written on the white board behind Cyclone.

THE PHYSICS OF PROPULSION AND MATHEMATICAL FORMULATIONS IN SINGLE SEAT F/A-18 JETS

He groaned, because even the word mathematical made him think about you. This was about to be a long afternoon. Then Admiral Simpson cleared his throat, and Bradley forced his attention to the man in front of him.

"Welcome. Today's lecture topic is of the utmost importance regarding updates that will be made to your aircrafts this year. We will take a look at jet propulsion and the calculations specific to your F/A-18s before the new NATOPS is even released. We have two guest speakers who are professors from San Diego State University's math and physics departments, and they have graciously agreed to spend some time on this topic with us."

"No way," Bradley whispered, convinced it had to be you. He swiveled around in his seat so fast, he thought he might have broken it as he hung over the arm into the aisle when the classroom door opened. He could hear her high heels on the floor before he realized he was looking at Jessica enter the room, but then his heart skipped around in his chest just like the first time he saw you over ten years ago at his fraternity house. You looked fucking hot as sin, strolling in behind Jake's wife with a folder in your hand and a smirk on your red lips. Your eyes found his immediately as he sat there gaping at you while you made your way to the front of the room, but other than a little nod in his direction, you gave him nothing.

"Holy shit," Jake hissed next to him as Bradley nodded in agreement, his eyes glued on your body as he heard Cyclone introduce you and Dr. Jessica Reed by name. You gave the room at large a little wave, but your eyes flicked him, and Bradley let out the breath he had apparently been holding as he relaxed into his seat. So this must have been why you tried to make it seem like you were extremely busy today. Maybe you and Jessica didn't want him and Jake to catch on to the fact that you'd be presenting their class.

As Jessica started talking, he took in every inch of your appearance. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and you were doing it very well. Bradley was proficient at calculus, having attended many of your college level math lectures. Sometimes he surprised you, but sometimes you knew ahead of time that he planned on being there. It didn't hurt that the lectures he attended usually ended with sex or a blowjob for him. Somehow math had turned into a form of foreplay for the two of you, and Bradley couldn't get enough. You'd praise him when he was able to solve a difficult problem, and the rewards were always sexy.

He was used to seeing you like this when he visited San Diego State University, but getting to witness your brilliance on the Naval base was already so exciting. Right now, he was already having a difficult time sitting still as he grew hard at the sound of your voice.

"The calculations related to your Super Hornets are so precise, we'll just take a look at a handful of examples to give you an idea of what we mean," you said, opening up your folder on the table as Bradley ran his sweaty palms on his flight suit. You were only a few feet away from him. He could smell your shampoo. He could count the little silver buttons on the side of your skirt. He had to bite his lip as you turned toward the white board and uncapped a marker as you said, "Please, let me know if I'm going too fast."

He could pick your writing out easily, but there was something about the way you always chose the letter B for your variables when he was watching. Your smooth penmanship started to fill the board as you talked your way through the problem, but Bradley could barely take his eyes off your ass. He turned around briefly to make sure nobody else had the same idea he did, but it was hard to tell. The younger guys looked a lot more enthusiastic than they usually did, and he might have to pound some sense into them later. Didn't they know you were his fucking wife?

But maybe they didn't. You kept your name the same when you got married. So did Jessica for that matter. Now Bradley sat a little taller in his seat as he realized he was married to one of the two extremely hot PhDs who all the other men in the room were drooling over.

"Does that make sense?" you asked, turning back to face them with a satisfied look on your face. "Dr. Reed can take over explaining the actual physics of the aircraft propulsion, and then I'll jump back in with the next calculation."

Bradley smiled at you while Jessica started talking again, and he could tell you were trying not to look at him as your lips curled into a grin. God, you were just fucking perfect. Smart and silly and sexy. And the two of you had so much history together, he could practically read the thoughts on your face.

"Did they dress like this on purpose?" Jake croaked softly.

"I know mine did," Bradley whispered. Your little tweed skirt and loafers screamed east coast academic. It looked as good on you as his tie dye shirt always did. It was just as sexy as lingerie. It was almost pornographic to him at this point. But today you had them paired with a blazer and a bodysuit. A bodysuit. He loved those things with the little snaps that held them closed as they hugged your curves. He was almost certain you'd skipped a bra. He couldn't wait to find out for sure.

Jessica was still talking about jet propulsion. Bradley would ask you to explain it to him later if it was actually important. Right now, you were slowly buttoning and then unbuttoning your blazer over and over again while you alternated between consulting your notes and stealing glances at Bradley. He was too warm as he watched your fingers work, and your eyes caught his as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Hey, Sugar," he mouthed, and your gaze dropped back to your folder as you bit your lip and smiled. He was ready to go home. Take you to bed. Or maybe get a private lecture in your home office. Or maybe drive all the way to the college and visit one of the library study rooms. You made everything so exciting, he wanted all of it.

When Jessica handed the lecture back over to you, Bradley squirmed in his seat as you wrote another calculation on the board. Jake was really no better in the seat next to him, and he realized the two of them must look like idiots at the moment. But you were making a subtle math joke that he understood, and when you glanced over your shoulder, your engagement ring sparkled under the fluorescent light.

"Now this is how the updates will actually make your aircrafts more fuel efficient," you said as you easily worked through a calculation that looked so complicated, Isaac Newton wouldn't have been able to solve it. Bradley's cock was still half hard, and he wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to stand up after this. But then you really threw him for a loop when you casually added the equation from your tattoo into the middle of the mess of mathematics on the white board. Now the only thing he could think about was your tits. Or rather, him running his lips along your math titty tattoo.

Bradley wasn't going to be able to sit still for much longer, but you turned around and asked, "Does anyone have any questions?"

He had to sit there and listen to several of the other guys ask you the most idiotic questions just so they could have your attention. Then Bradley raised his hand and waited until you pointed at him and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw?" with an amused look on your face. "You have a question?"

"Yeah," he said, voice raspy. "I do, professor. If the variable B is directly related to propulsion, then how is that going to affect my thrust?"

He kept a straight face while you fought to do the same. You cleared your throat, took a step in his direction, and said, "You're going to need to have some additional thrust, Lieutenant."

Bradley nodded and gave you a thoughtful look. "Hmmm, that's what I thought. And it looks like a very complicated calculation."

You stood there in front of everyone in your little tweed skirt and the diamond ring he gave you and said, "If you'd like a more thorough explanation, I wouldn't mind spending a few minutes with you afterwards, Lieutenant."

As he leaned back in his seat, he told you, "I look forward to it."

So Bradley listened to Jessica while you occasionally interjected, and he kept his eyes on your face as his excitement started to build even more. When the afternoon lecture was finally over, he and Jake both stayed in their seats while Cyclone shook hands with the two of you.

"How long do you think they've been planning this?" Jake whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Not sure," Bradley replied as you collected your notes into your folder. "But I intend to find out." He was impressed as hell that you managed to pull this off without him noticing, but his skin was tingling with need. He desperately wanted to get his hands on you after you worked him up with all of the intellectual teasing. 

As soon as Cyclone dismissed everyone, Jake was on his feet, dragging Jessica out of the classroom, but Bradley didn't move an inch in his seat. His cock was hard, and you were running your hand along your tweed covered hip as you smiled at him. But then he had to endure one of the younger aviators who was new to Top Gun trying to chat you up when he should have just left the classroom with the others. When you turned to face him instead, annoyance washed through Bradley's veins.

"Uh, hi, uh I actually studied mathematics at the Naval Academy, and I graduated three years ago, and uh, I was just wondering if you would want to get a drink with me sometime and talk more about, um, some of the topics you covered about propulsion and thrust-"

"Fuck off, man," Bradley barked. "She's wearing goddamn wedding rings. And she's not interested."

Your hand slipped over your lips as you laughed silently while the younger man looked at Bradley in shock. "Oh. Right. Okay," he muttered before hightailing it from the now nearly empty classroom.

"That wasn't very nice," you said, fighting against a smile. "He seemed really sweet. I was going to let him shoot his shot."

Bradley stood with a soft groan, his erection pressing against the zipper of his flight suit. "I was promised a private tutorial session, Dr. Sugar. I'm not about to let a twenty-something year old take up any of my time."

Without hesitation, you walked over to him and started to slowly unzip his flight suit. "Hate to break it to you, Beer Boy, but you were a twenty-something year old when I fell in love with you." 

You ran your fingers along his undershirt, and Bradley glanced at the open classroom door as he whispered, "I hope you know you're not leaving this room until you're full of my cum."

"Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you gasped, eyes wide and surprised. But your hand was dipping lower to his abs, and he could tell you were as turned on as he was. "This is a tutoring session!"

Bradley wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently led you toward the door which he immediately closed. "I want to know how the hell you managed to pull this off. I had no idea you and Jessica were going to be teaching a class for the Navy."

"We've been working on our lesson plan for weeks," you said with a smirk as Bradley placed both of your palms on the door and flipped the light switch off. In the dimly lit room, you whispered, "We wanted it to be a surprise."

Bradley stood behind you, facing the door and kissed your neck above your unbuttoned blazer. "And here I thought you lied to me about your plans because you needed a break from me."

You moaned softly as his nose traced the shell of your ear. "Oh, please. It's not like you're annoying like Jake. I don't need a break from you, Beer Boy."

"Hmm, then what do you need from me?" he asked softly, letting one hand slide up your bodysuit while he confirmed that you were not wearing a bra. Your nipples were tight peaks as he stroked them through the fabric with one big hand, and you bumped your ass back against his erection.

"I need you to tell me what you know about thrust, Lieutenant," you stated in your teacher voice which made him grind against you.

"I know you like it when I give you a little thrust," he grunted, guiding your tweed skirt up your thighs as you gasped.

"Is this a good idea?" you asked, still pressing your body back against his. "Should we wait until we get home?"

"Can't," he growled, yanking your skirt up over your ass and wrapping his hands around your hips as he looked down at the perfect view. "You got me too worked up. You know what your lectures do to me. And this time it was on my home turf."

Your hands were still planted on the door as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "Almost like I'm in the Navy now. Lieutenant Sugar? Should I get a uniform?"

"Oh, fuck. You know I couldn't handle that. Besides, I'm really partial to your tweed." He was running his knuckles down your rear end as he whispered, "Please, let me fuck you. I'll be quick, Baby."

His fingers were already at the snaps on your bodysuit that hid your pussy from his touch when you said, "Do it."

With a flick of his wrist, the snaps sprung free, and he ran his finger along your slit. Your back arched as he carefully pulled his cock free from his unzipped flight suit and underwear, and then he was guiding you to your tiptoes as he slipped himself inside you.

Bradley wrapped one hand around your waist and braced the door closed with the other as he buried himself deep inside you. Your soft gasp sounded beautiful as he sucked on your neck and gave you a few deep strokes. When he started to go faster, your fingers curled against the door as you whined his name, and he asked, "How's my thrust?"

Your head tipped back against his shoulder as you whispered, "You're just about there. Maybe a little harder."

Always wanting to be your top student, he did exactly as you told him and picked up the pace, letting himself slam against your ass. Your tight pussy felt so fucking good, and normally he'd draw this out as long as possible, but not today. He let your grip on him take over all of his senses, and soon he was grunting next to your ear, lips parted as he fucked you up against the door in a classroom at Top Gun.

"This is filthy as hell," he muttered, jerking his hips in an uneven rhythm. "Fucking my perfect wife on base. During work hours." 

"Beer Boy," you gasped when he slammed deep and held himself there. He did it again, loving the sound of his body meeting yours so intimately. A third time, and the pull along his spine as you moaned was too much. You had complete control over him.

Bradley gave it to you hard until he was panting. He let himself come as you turned and looked back at him, licking those sinful lips. "Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he groaned before kissing your lips softly as he gave you a few more thrusts before pulling himself free.

He was still a little hard as he tucked himself back into his flight suit and zipped it up again. When he went to fix your bodysuit, he ended up with his fingers coated in your arousal mixed with his cum as he did the snaps once again.

"Good as new," he murmured as you tugged your skirt down and turned to face him. He kissed you again before he said, "We should get out of here."

You nodded and collected your folder before pulling the door open and strolling casually out into the hallway like you didn't have his sticky cum rubbing against your inner thighs. "Now that you're all squared away with your thrust variable," you told him as he licked his fingers clean, enjoying the way the two of you tasted together, "you'll be even faster, Lieutenant."

Bradley snickered as you and he rounded the corner. "I hope you mean in the air. Quickies aren't really my thing, unless we're in a library study room or apparently an empty Naval classroom."

"There you are, professor." Cyclone was trying to flag you down, and Bradley watched you stumble as you headed off in his direction. He wasn't even sure if Admiral Simpson knew you and he were married, but the other man looked overjoyed as he said, "I've already been getting wonderful feedback about you and Dr. Reed, and I'm hoping you'll both agree to come back next month for another lecture on a different topic."

Bradley groaned and just kept walking. He would wait for you in the parking lot where he'd have a moment to himself to collect his thoughts. More sexy tweed and his hot wife in the classroom? Another lecture topic? Hours of mathematical foreplay that nobody else seemed to pick up on? Quickies were about to become his thing.

------------------------------

I missed Beer Boy and Sugar SO MUCH! She's such a queen, she literally just has to exist to make him lose his mind. But she knows what she did here. She knows. Thanks for reading!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

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[solarsturniolo]

ÈVÈR¥WHÈRÈ Ì GÖ // Ç.§. // Ìñ†RÖ

Ð̧ÇLÄÌMÈR: I highly recommend you listen to the song I put at the end of this while reading this story.

§ÚMMÄR¥: President of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity house, where their mission statement is 'Developing men of principle for a principled life', Christopher Sturniolo only has three goals in mind: Throwing the best parties on campus, passing his classes just enough to fly under the Dean's radar, and getting him and his fraternity brothers laid. Three fairly simple goals that he typically has no issue fulfilling. That is, until she shows up to his party one night.

WÄRñÌñG§: Fratboy!Chris / Manipulative!Chris / Fuckboy!Chris / Posessive!Chris / Fem!Reader / Cursing / Pure filth / Smutttt / Unprotected sex / Drug use / Oral (m receiving) / Oral (fem recieving) / Handjobs / P in v / Petnames / PDA / Titty-fucking / Dumbification kink / Spanking / Lots of dirty talk Suggestive cheating trope / Creampie / Facial / Mentions of exploitation / Breeding kink / Mentions of threesomes / Blackmail / Like I said, this story is pure filth.

©Solarsturniolo 2024

Whêñ Ì §†år† Ðrïñkïñg, m¥ Ðï¢k Ððê§ åll m¥ †hïñkïñg Hðê§ wåñ† †ð ßê §êêñ wï†h mê åñÐ Ì lïkê †hêïr ßïg, fåkê †ï††ïê§ Ð ¢µþ§ wï†h êx†rå fïllïñg, †åkê ï† ðµ†, lê† mê lï¢k ï† qµï¢kl¥ Çålm Ððwñ, ï†'§ jµ§† å hï¢kê¥, Ì'll ßlåmê ï† ðñ †hï§ whï§kê¥ §ïþþïñg Gꆧ mê †ïþ§¥, Ðrïñk f姆 åñÐ êñj𥠥ðµr ßµzz †åkê ßå¢k §†rêꆧ †ð åvðïÐ †hê fµzz Ì wåññå †åkê ¥ðµ hðmê ßµ† ¥ðµr frïêñЧ wðñ'† lê† ¥ðµ Ì gð† å 40 ïñ m¥ fðrÐ fï꧆å ßµ¥ ßêêr ðr þå¥ †hê rêñ†? M¥ §ïgñïñg ßðñµ§ wå§ qµï¢kl¥ §þêñ† §ð Ì'll ßêå† m¥ mêå† lïkê Ì'm å fµ¢kïñg ßµ†¢hêr ÄñÐ Ì'll þµñk †hê ��µ§§¥ lïkê Ì'm ħh†ðñ Kµ†¢hêr

Lê†'§ gê† †hï§ þår†¥ §†år†êÐ Lê†'§ kêêþ †hêm 40'§ þðþþïñg §ð jµ§† gê† ßµzzêÐ åñÐ §†å¥ fµ¢kêÐ µþ Wê'll kêêþ †hêm þåñ†ïê§ Ðrðþþïñg

Everywhere I Go - Hollywood Undead

September 15, 2024

There was a time when I cared about my education; Hell, it’s how I landed a scholarship for one of the best colleges in Massachusetts. But why would I bother caring about physics and calculus? Being head of a major fraternity house is a full time job within itself, I don’t have time to study and blaze through my classes. These parties aren’t going to plan themselves, and these sorority chicks surely aren’t going to fuck themselves. Someone’s gotta take one for the team, and if it’s gotta be me, so be it.

Not that I’m complaining.

Would be nice if Lars would text me back. These coke whores are bleeding me dry, can’t get the shit fast enough to keep up with the demand. Guess I could start some iou’s. Or my fucking dealer could pick up his god damn phone.

What the fuck even is this? You’re really gonna read all this? Didn’t think you’d be into that shit, but who am I to kink shame? Enjoy the fucking story, I know I will.

ÄÚ†HÖR'§ ñÖ†È: Once again, HIGHLY recommend that you listen to that song while reading this story.

†ÄG§: @flowerxbunnie @megamett44-lover @xtravrgnoliveoil @mattsturnswife @mbbsgf @meerkatzthings @soursturniolo @oversturn @sturnioz @luverboychris @soupuurr @gemofthenight @sturnsforlife @hi-7-hi @blahbel668 @mattspleasure @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @m4ttslvr @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @lovelybrokenheal @h3arts4harry @riowritesitall

[buckevantommy]

https://www.tumblr.com/buckevantommy/757878657756872704/btw-i-dont-think-we-need-to-worry-about-buck-and

Agree 100%. But, to further expand that, and going outside the world of the show.

From a GA perspective, or the audience full stop, how many partners are we willing to watch before we lose interest? By this I mean - if the writers are spending screen time / several episodes introducing a new character and a new relationship, usually we get invested. And when that person disappears, it can be frustrating, and the introduction of a new person (thus the start of the cycle again), can feel a bit tiring. Every time they need to find something that makes the audience go: okay, it’s worth for me to care about this character.

Buck’s case is a bit particular, because his relationships haven’t been all that well received (until now). Either it was an ‘okay’ situation, without much interest, or an okay reception but controversial at times (for me, Taylor - I do think the GA was okay with her, but ultimately the couple was not good). Tommy has been imo the first relationship that truly has brought in lots of positive and good reviews and a good investment of attention from fans and even GA. Tommy’s clips in any social media are usually the ones with most views, and in things like IG it goes to talk about the GA more than a focused fandom.

This to say - if Buck was to break up with Tommy, I think a lot of the audience would be frustrated or even grow bored of the constant change of partners. Even, they would be less receptive to a future new partner, because if Tommy (so well received) is gone, who would even stay?

Not to say this means Tommy is Buck’s endgame, because no one knows. But at some point the constant change of partners gets old, and we know Tim agrees when he expressed wanting to get Buck off the hamster wheel (something Oliver agreed on), and Tommy is a really strong character to have Buck settle with.

Long story short: not only from a SL perspective, but Bucktommy being long lasting makes sense for the overall image of the show.

You're absolutely right nonny.

bc if we think about bucktommy in terms of it being Buck's relationship aka. a main character's relationship, enough is enough on dragging him from illfit to illfit - that guy deserves to be settled, at ease in himself, as Bobby once told him, and we've already seen Tommy help make that happen for him.

and if we look back at Buck's relationship history: we're 7 years into poor matches for a guy who has always wanted to love and be loved - and Tommy can be that for him! he has been that for him so far and could so easily fit into the narrative as Buck's significant other moving forward indefinitely. Tommy already feels like the missing piece to Buck's story the same way Karen was for Hen and Maddie was for Chim and Athena was for Bobby - and he's a fleshed out character in his own right just as those partners are.

enough screwing around with Buck's relationships. sometimes it feels like just bc he started out as a fuckboy he somehow doesn't deserve a stable, healthy, loving relationship, like the narrative is going out of its way to ruin any chance he has at that for the sake of drama (but again: none of his previous partners were the right match for him).

i'm going to mention dear dean winchester again bc he has so much in common with Buck, and these kinds of characters (male, strong, macho, attractive, swagger, charming, sexually active, presumably bisexual) always cycle through relationships that never pan out - bc they're not the right fit, but moreover bc these partners seem written in just to be eventually written out, there to help the main character's plot along, aid in some personal growth and add drama, maybe attract more viewership for those interested in seeing more (temporary) female characters.

but it is.. *sigh* tiresome, indeed. let Buck have a stable partner - like Hen, and Chim, and Bobby do - and let their relationship be woven into the narrative to create a richer tapestry like those other pairings do. that is so much more satisfying in terms of storytelling and character growth, than trying to insert drama snags that threaten to unravel things. you can still have drama with committed pairings - every other committed pairing in the show is proof of that.

and if we take off the shipper googles: Tommy is good as Buck's partner, he makes sense, and he has great potential in the longrun both as Buck's boyfriend/husband and as his own character within the wider narrative of the show. he's a natural fit, but he's also entertaining and he has history with most of the main characters already.

i really do see Tommy as Buck's endgame btw, bc they work so well together as a pairing but also as independant characters. BUT i wouldn't be mad about them breaking up/taking a break (as i mentioned in that post: uncertainty about having kids; a potential permanent job position out of state) and then come back together stronger for it. we saw it happen with Henren (but i don't want to see cheating with our boys bc it doesn't fit who they are) so we know if they do breakup it doesn't have to be permanent - and i actually would love the mirror to Buck's first serious relationship where Abby leaves him - only Tommy comes back to him.

[shinelikethunder]

the Impala has an automatic transmission, but can Dean drive a manual if he has to?

propaganda i came up with on the spot

yes: John might well have considered it an essential life skill, esp given how habitually they steal cars

no: ok hear me out..., this would literally be sooooo fucking funny

(secret third thing: there may be an objective answer here, i don't remember if one of their temporary rides was a manual and spn wiki's vehicle articles don't specify, so someone could potentially come along and drop a definitive answer in the notes idk. but until then i'm just sitting here pitting "i mean, realistically..." against the possibility of an exquisite dunk on my favorite fuckboy loser)

[waihtie]

Supernatural Season 2

Of my first/re watch. I don't remember things easily, so here's a reference for future me (and just some fun notes)

Sam Deaths: 1 (Stabbed. Dean's deal brought him back)

Dean Deaths: 1 (Car accident, was resuscitated like a normal person would be (but stayed in a coma, John's deal saved him))

Important Character Deaths: John W, Yellow-eyes, all the psychic kids we met, Ash

Total deaths: 61

*This includes all people and supernatural creatures who died during an episode, even if they come back to life.

Times Sam was tied up or handcuffed: 3

Times Dean was tied up or handcuffed: 4

Times Sam punched Dean: 0

Times Dean punched Sam: 2

*This is out of bursts of anger and doesn't include fake fights or where there was a legit supernatural excuse

Episodes to skip or watch in a rewatch:

Skip: 3, 4, 18

If I feel like it: 7, 12, 13, 16

Like, but aren't plot related: 2, 6, 11, 14, 15, 17, 19, 20

Plot: 1, 5, 8, 9, 10, 21, 22

Characters that are or might be important:

Victor Henriksen - FBI guy who is obsessed with arresting Sam and Dean

Gordon Walker - Hunter with a morality issue. Wants to kill Sam bc he's 'supernatural'

Trickster - ik who he his, I probably won't forget. He's in this list so I can point out that at this point viewers know he's not dead, but Sam and Dean don't.

Important information: Sam was killed, Dean made a deal to save him. Dean has 1 year before the hellhounds come to collect his soul.

Meg was exorcised to hell. Again.

Main Plot: Sam and Dean's quest for Yellow-eyes, Yellow-eyes' plan for the psychic kids.

On my Season 1 post, I talked about my issues with it. Here's why I like season 2 better:

1. The main plotline moves quicker. I don't have enough of an attention span to sit through episodes that don't relate to each other. I like how there's more plot episodes.

2. The main plotline is more developed and more interesting. I care a little more about it than season one's (it's not the best one, but just in comparison to season 1).

3. The filler episodes are more interesting that last season's

4. Even though there's only 2 reoccurring characters (which is still a big problem for me), they are more developed. We know more about them. Who they are. Why they are the way they are. They have a familiar backstory. Attachments are starting to form.

Dean is a lot more likeable this season. Gives off less fuckboy vibes and less perfect soldier vibes. He's slowly coming into himself, becoming less of what he thinks John wants him to be, and more to just who he is. I love it. I love his character growth over the seasons. Even from season 1 to 2 is making a difference. I can't wait until the seasons where I became super attached to who he is.

Sam is whatever to me where I am at in the show now, so I was shocked when I got back to season 1 and loved him. Then I thought it would be over. But season 2 Sam is great, too. He's sarcastic, funny, cute, and has nice hair. I thought it was only gonna be season 1, but I was wrong, so we'll see if it continues to season 3. (I did not see this new Sam appreciation coming for myself, but I am HERE for it)

The issues I had with this season was that I had nothing to latch on to. When I watched it for the first time a few months ago, I knew absolutely nothing about the show. I almost quit bc I just couldn't get into seasons 1-3. I still didn't care about the plot, and I had absolutely no attachment to either Sam or Dean, even in this season. I was very tempted to start my rewatch at season 4, but I'm glad I didn't.

Even though there's more plot than season 1, it wouldn't have been enough for me last time. There's too much time between any mentions of plot.

I definitely like this season more now that I know more about who they become and what the show becomes. I have a whole new perspective.

[mintwithchoco]

mint's monday muse #12

greetings fellow livings, your favorite plant is back with the first installment of mint's monday muse of 2025 :D

update-ish; haven't been writing a lot, but i'm confident that i can release at least ONE fic this month. but if i don't, then uhh strike me with lightning until i dissipate into a million pieces-

DRINK SMOKE DRINK SMOKE DRINK SMOKE POUR UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

this song instantly makes you feel like you're some fuckboy that gets all the ladies in one night. dean's vocals are no joke, and zico's rap are straight bars. so if you wanna get laid, just put on this song and you'll get +9999 rizz no cap trust

have a floofy woofy yubin!

[a-crazy-fangirl]

SPN posting ahead!

This might be a controversial take, but I am firmly of the opinion that Dean full on settled for Lisa and didn’t really love her like he thought he did.

NOTE: I SAY THIS WITH ALL THE LOVE AND RESPECT FOR LISA!! My hand to God, I’m not trying to be a hater or anything like that. Lisa’s perfectly fine, I just think she and Dean aren’t compatible.

I think he stayed with her because she checked a lot of the boxes of what he thought he wanted. Like on paper, Lisa should be perfect for him. Lisa and her lifestyle embodies what Dean thought he wanted— a picket fence life away from hunting with a hot, down to earth woman and a good kid that idolizes him. It was what his Dad was fighting to avenge, so I think Dean internalized his dad’s desires and goals and saw it as the be all and end all of what someone should want. And again, like he was taught from a very young age, achievement of “goals” and “tasks” as defined by his dad should supersede whatever “””fantasies””” he had for himself (aka his own desires, thoughts, and feelings).

So in that light, maybe his emotional connection with Lisa wasn’t as good as he had experienced with other women, but she was supportive enough and offered a lifestyle that he thought he wanted, so he made due with her fully expecting the rest of the pieces to fall into place. I think he expected that, based on what his dad taught him, if he was a good partner and did what he was supposed to do, the love and happiness would inevitably follow.

I think the fact it didn’t was a part of the reason he went back to hunting with Sam so readily.

Above all, I think the failure of his relationship with Lisa was a moment of serious growth for Dean.

I want to preface this by saying I don’t think he settled intentionally like some kind of fuckboy. He truly cared about Lisa and Ben, without a doubt, and I fully believe he went into that relationship thinking he was right where he wanted and needed to be. I don’t think he went into it lightly or casually by any stretch of the imagination.

But I think his relationship with Lisa, and the way it failed over the course of season 5/6, taught him that a relationship has to be more than just your idealized concept of what a partner (and a relationship) should be. It also involves the connection and truth, no matter how messy or vulnerable that maybe. That, and that it doesn’t always match up with what you expect it should be.

What cements my theory for me is the relationships he had with people that were fully a part of his entire life, warts and all. He loved Cassie. He was on his way to loving Jo. He loved Benny. And he loved Castiel.

His connections with those who truly saw and understood him for who he was in his entirety were far deeper than what he got from someone so far removed from his life.

Looking beyond what’s textual and more into my spitball, head canon opinions, if the show had been fair to Dean, he would have ended up with a fellow hunter— I think that would have been the only way Dean could have had a “real” love interest. Dean is a very emotional man and I think he would need someone who really fully understood him. He never really got that in any long-term fling that was well depicted in the show, which sucks. I think, after everything, he deserved that. I wish we had had at least one lady that matched his freak

(It would have been Jo but the fandom motherfuckers in the mid/late 00s fucked that up for us 🤬)

TLDR!! Lisa strikes me more as someone who John would have liked Dean to pursue rather than someone Dean would have organically sought out on his own. For that reason, the relationship failed because it was what Dean thought he wanted rather than what he actually wanted.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pomposo

Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)

Word Count: 4559

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd

Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.

Series Masterlist

Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.

They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.

Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.

Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.

After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.

Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.

Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.

“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 

“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”

Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”

Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”

Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.

He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.

“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.

“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.

Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”

When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.

But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.

Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.

He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.

“Ellen?”

“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”

Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”

“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”

 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”

“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Ellen? Be careful.”

“Don’t you start young man.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Ellen hung up.

Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.

“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”

He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.

“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.

“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.

“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”

John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”

They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.

A car honked in the driveway.

“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.

Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.

“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”

Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”

She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 

Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.

“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.

 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.

“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.

“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”

“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.

Ellen sniffed.

“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”

“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.

“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.

Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.

He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.

He was gonna be sick again.

He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.

Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…

She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.

And it was all his fault.

He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.

Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.

The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.

Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.

Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.

“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.

Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.

“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.

“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.

“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”

That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”

“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.

“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.

Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 

Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 

What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn���t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.

The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.

They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.

They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.

Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 

Kate wiped the floor with them all.

They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.

“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.

“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.

It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.

Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.

Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.

Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 

“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.

“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.

“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.

“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”

Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”

“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.

“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.

“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.

“Dad!” Sam admonished.

“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”

John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”

Sam grunted in confirmation.

“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”

Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.

The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.

Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.

He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.

They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.

They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 

Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.

“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.

Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.

You looked like you were going to be ill.

“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.

You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”

Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 

They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.

What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.

“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 

Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.

And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”

Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”

“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Okay,” was all Sam said.

Tagging:

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Chapter 15: Rubato