#hi yes this is about normal people obsessing over dean!

[diabolichearts]

i love when people go "dean winchester is my dream man" like girl be real youre gonna be killed for his insane lore and plot development

[angelsdean]

*record scratch* freeze frame. Reality Check. "You're the one who came and got me at school. You're the one who dragged me back into this." let's re-evaluate that statement, Sam, because that is not, in fact, what happened.

The context in which Sam makes this statement is that he's arguing Dean used to care about the revenge quest and killing the demon because Dean is the one that came and got Sam and thus "dragged him back" into the quest to kill the demon. But, that is not why Dean went to get Sam at school, it was to find John, who was missing and possibly dead. Dean didn't even Know about the demon at this point (they don't find out that "the thing that killed mom" is a demon til 1x11) or that John was closing in on it. Dean goes to Stanford to ask Sam to help him look for John, that's it. Then, at the end of 1x01 Dean brings Sam back to school in time for his interview as promised, and drives away. He only turns around when, in the deleted scene, he notices his watch has stopped, cluing him in that something is wrong. And he gets there in time to save Sam from the burning building.

Sam then makes the choice to leave with Dean because now that he's lost someone, he is personally invested in finding John because John knows more about the thing that killed Mary (and now Jess) than anyone, and Sam is the one who is now consumed by the need for revenge and the first step in getting that revenge is finding John, something he had no vested interest in doing before, but is now heavily invested in, even more than Dean is, as we see throughout the first half of s1 where Sam is often the one calling around looking for John and is more interested in searching for John than taking on random cases.

Anyways, it's just so interesting to track this revisionism of events and how both Sam and Dean come to accept this as the truth when it's literally not what we saw happen throughout the season. And we see Dean start to absorb this belief after Meg plants the seed in their heads in 1x16, trying to drive a wedge between them, by falsely saying Dean "drags Sam around like luggage" when literally the whole reason Sam and Meg meet is because Sam wanted to part ways in 1x11 and Dean let him go. Sam then comes back and decides to stay all on his own, even after Dean offers to drop Sam off somewhere.

Dean expresses in 1x16, that yes, he wants Sam around, he wants his family together again, but at the end of that very episode Dean is also the one who says they need to split up from John, even though it's the last thing he wants. Dean consistently is willing to let people go, even if it's not what he personally wants. And especially Sam. Over and over throughout the season he expressed how he wants Sam to have a normal life, is willing to let Sam go, or stay in some random town and drop the search for John. So even IF Dean did secretly want Sam to stick around when he went to get Sam at Stanford, he never expected it. Never enforced it.

That Sam comes to think Dean "dragged him back" into hunting is a purely revisionism and a bit of projection, I think, because Sam might not want to face the truth of the matter which is that he consistently chose to stick with hunting, and actually enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. And, as both he and John express, this quest to kill Yellow Eyes becomes "their" obsession. Not Dean's. Dean is the one who says he'd rather they never find the demon if it means losing his family. Dean is the one that says getting revenge isn't worth dying for. And then, Sam takes this to heart, when at the end of 1x22 he refuses to kill John Possessed by Azazel at Dean's pleading, AND when he tells John that killing this demon does not come "before everything" while eyeing Dean bleeding out in the backseat.

Dean was never the one invested in revenge. He did not come get Sam from Stanford to aid in the family revenge quest, he came for help in finding their missing father, something Dean cared abt simply because that's family, and Dean cares deeply, despite everything John put them through. Dean is the one that cares, the heart of the narrative, etc etc. He comes to Sam because he is alone in the world, because their only other blood relative is missing, because it's a very human thing, to reach out, to want family around. And still, he was always going to let Sam go after the 1x01. He didn't like it. It's not what Dean wanted. But he was going to let him go back to his life. Sam chose to follow Dean and continue searching for John.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

first request here!!, but can i request ethan being obsessed with reader but ethan thinks hes smooth with it but his not (reader knows he likes her) and basically it ends into smut!! please and tyy!!

I hope you like it:)

High Hopes - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan's feelings for you are so obvious, so you decided to help him out.

A/N: I'm working through requests, but I'd love to get one for Ghostface!Ethan. If you have any ideas, let me know:)

As you sat in your Econ class, you could feel a set of eyes on you. You smirked as you looked over to catch the gaze of Ethan. He quickly looked to the front of the room, watching the professor continue his lecture. This poor boy has been crushing on you for months, and he’s trying so hard to be cool about it.

As class let out, Ethan walked faster to catch up with you.

“Hey,” he said, walking at a normal pace beside you, trying to hide the shortness of breath.

“Oh, hey Ethan,” you said, looking over at the curly-haired boy.

“You should come over tonight. I need help studying,” you giggled to yourself.

“YOU, Ethan Landry who’s been on the dean’s list ever since you started here, needs help studying,” you said, seeing right through his lie.

“Yeah, I uh, I don’t think I did well on that last test,” he said, trying to convince you.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll come over. I wouldn’t want you to fail,” you said, walking in the direction towards his dorm.

After you sat down on his bed with him, he was trying so hard to play stupid. It was cute watching him act like he had no idea what’s been going on in class. He had you look over one of his assignments, and after changing a few things, he submitted it. What he didn’t know was that the grades for all his assignments would pop up on the screen. Your eyes widened as you saw ‘100’ listed beside the tests and other submitted work.

“Shit, it looks like I’m the one that might be needing your help,” you laughed, his cheeks tomato red. “I thought you didn’t do well on that test?”

“I didn’t think I did. I guess I did better than I thought,” he said, before quickly trying to close out of it.

You sat there in silence for a few minutes, his embarrassment making it hard for him to change the subject.

“Ethan, if you asked me to hang out, I would’ve said yes. You don’t have to lie to me,” you said, your gaze meeting his nervous one.

“Would you like to go get pizza with me?” he asked, “Not as a date or anything, unless you’d want it to be.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you said, standing up.

Ethan’s mind was racing as he walked those two blocks down the street with you. You didn’t say it was a date, but you did agree to go with him, so that’s hopefully a step in the right direction.

When you sat down across from him at the table and ordered, you had to break the silence.

“You haven’t said anything in fifteen minutes, you okay?” you asked, a shy smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, voice higher than he expected it to be.

A group of friends walked into the restaurant, one of them pointing over to Ethan before saying something to the girls that were with him.

“Do you know those people?” you asked, your head gesturing behind Ethan.

He turned around and muttered an ‘oh fuck’ as the athletic looking guy walked up to the table.

“Hey man, who’s this?” the boy said. You learned his name was Chad as Ethan introduced the two of you.

“Oh, you’re the girl he never shuts up about! I see you finally asked her out. Good job, roomie,” Chad said, before walking back to his friends.

Ethan couldn’t make eye contact as his face turned red for the second time. You smiled at him as the waitress brought the food to the table.

“So, you never shut up about me?” you asked, before taking a bite of the pizza.

“That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life,” he admitted, finally looking up at you.

“Why is it embarrassing? I think it’s cute,” you said, making him smile.

The two of you talked about your interests as you ate, realizing that you had a lot in common. You laughed at his jokes, his nerves quickly fading. He blushed when you grabbed his hand on top of the table.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, as you guys got up to leave.

“So this is a date, then?” he asked, looking down as he walked beside you.

“Yeah, it is,” you smiled as he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the restaurant.

“Bye, guys,” Ethan said, waving with his free hand to his friends.

“Hey, we’re going to Mindy’s to watch a movie, I’ll be back late,” Chad said, waving to Ethan.

The walk back to his dorm was nice. He made sure he was on the side of the walkway closest to traffic, and the grip tightened on your hand when you passed anyone. It was like he wanted to show you off, that he was proud to be the one holding your hand.

Once you made it back, you started to grab your stuff to head back to your dorm. You could tell he was nervous, as he started to walk towards you.

“Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to maybe go on a second date sometime?” he asked, and you started to step towards him.

“You better take me on a second date,” you said, your face inches from his as you stood in front of him. “You gonna kiss me or not?”

He leaned in, connecting his lips to yours. You felt those cliché fireworks as his mouth moved with yours. He started to pull away, but you pulled him back in. You gently bit his bottom lip, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Okay, I think we need to stop,” he said, trying to cover his hand over the boner he was getting from you kissing him.

You looked down and giggled at him, before whispering “What if I don’t want it to stop?”

His eyes darkened as he looked over your face. He didn’t know how far this would go, but he was dying to find out. His lips were back on yours as he led you back to his bed, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. You felt his hips subtly rutting against yours, trying to get some relief from the aching cock in his pants. You whimpered as you felt it against you, wanting so badly to take care of him.

You pushed him off you, a confused look plastered on his face. You smirked as he lay there, breathing heavy. You sat on your knees on the bed as you ran your hand up and down his thigh. Your fingers walked across his jeans, finally making it to the button. He watched you intently as you undid his pants, before pulling his erection out of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he gasped as you started to stroke him.

“You ever thought about this before?” you asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“Y-yes,” he said, mouth falling open as your hand glided up and down him.

“How often do you think of me like this?” your voice was full of lust as you maintained eye contact. Your hand started to speed up as you waited for him to respond.

“All the fucking time,” he said, precum dripping out of his tip.

“Do you think about my mouth on you?” you asked, leaning your head down.

“Yes..oh shit,” he whimpered as you took his tip in your mouth.

You licked away the salty liquid as you started to inch him deeper into your mouth. His hand went to your hair as you started to gag a little around him. Spit was leaking out of the corners of your mouth as you moved faster. The whimpers leaving his mouth had your clit throbbing in your panties.

When he saw your tears dripping out of your eyes as your throat gagged around him, he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, his breathing heavy as the grip on your hair tightened. It only took a few more seconds of your actions for him to release into your mouth.

When you slid him out of your mouth, he gasped at the string of saliva and cum mixed connected to his cock.

“That was better than I ever thought it could be,” he said, as you relaxed on the bed beside him.

Your thighs started to rub together, desperate for a little friction against your clit. He smiled as he watched you, before reaching his hand over and rubbing you through your leggings. The moans slipping past your swollen lips made him hard again. Your jaw slacked as he rubbed you quicker, giving you an ounce of the relief you needed.

“Can I take these off of you?” he asked, his fingertips dipping under the waistband of your leggings.

You nodded your response, as he pulled both your leggings and panties down in a swift motion.

As he got comfortable in between your thighs, his fingers slid up and down your clit, before he applied a little pressure and started to circle it.

“Oh my god,” you moaned out as his fingers worked their magic against you.

He replaced his fingers with his mouth as your moans got louder. He slid two digits inside of your dripping core, the sounds of your wetness echoing off the walls. His curls were ticking your thighs as they sat on his shoulders, your climax creeping up on you.

“That feels so good,” you mewled out as he moved his fingers faster.

That feeling in the pit of your stomach got stronger and stronger as you started to cry out, your legs jolting around his head.

“Cumming..oh fuck,” you moaned, the waves of your orgasm running through your body. Your legs were squeezed tightly around Ethan’s head, your body not wanting him to stop any of his actions as you rode out your high.

You laid there, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you released his head from in between your thighs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suffocate you,” you giggled as you looked over his face, the lower half covered in your arousal.

“If you did suffocate me, I couldn’t think of a better way to go,” he said, relaxing beside you.

His fingers were tracing along your stomach under the hem of your shirt, when you started to laugh a little thinking about how obvious he’d been about things.

“What’s funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing against you harder to tickle you.

“Stop!” you whined as you laughed, before straddling him and digging your fingers into his sides.

You didn’t tickle him for long though, as your soaking pussy rested against his hard cock. You started to grind against him, his hands going to your hips as he helped you rock back and forth against him.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, breathing heavily as you continued to move.

“Yeah, top drawer,” he said, pointing to the bedside table.

You rummaged until you found one, then opened the foil and slid it on him.

You crawled back on top of him and lined him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned out at the full feeling, pulling your shirt over your head and taking your bra off.

Ethan’s hands went to your chest, exploring the newly exposed skin. His fingers ran over your nipples, gently pinching them in between his fingers as you whined out. You started to lift your hips and slide back down on him. His hands grabbed your hips as he watched your breasts bouncing while you rode him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasped, helping you speed up the movements of your hips.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and your moans as your pussy started to clench around him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, reaching down to apply some attention to your clit with his fingers.

You nodded as you held your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together the closer you got.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out, your body spasming on top of him as you laid on top of him.

He wrapped his hands around your waist as he fucked up into you, chasing his own orgasm. His hips went faster than you thought was possible until they started to slow down.

“God your pussy is perfect,” he groaned, after releasing into the condom.

You got off him, laying down in the space beside him.

“So, where are we going for the second date?” you asked, as Ethans fingers reached over to lace with yours.

“I’d take you to the fucking moon if you asked me to.”

[ananke-xiii]

Another dream, always mine (and yes it's still spn s13 related because i have a bone to pick with dabb over that season specifically)

So here it goes. (Part 1)

Spn s13 but kelly doesn't die, cas doesn't die, crowley doesn't die. Lucifer dies for *reasons* but mary, dean and sam are stuck in the AU.

It's still spn so we just have to have mirrors and parallels, okay? Like, this show doesn't care about continuity but damn! They will stick to mirrors and parallels like it's a religion and so we do too.

The thing is that the AU is not the lame-ass AU Dabb or whoever came up with, it's at least an attempt at being an interesting place. So basically the AU is as boring and dumb as our earth, nothing has really changed, people are still trapped in the rat race that capitalism is (see, we have a little bit of critique here too, there is no escape from the capitalist-fascist-heteronormative narrative or isn't it?), the frigging white picket fences are still everywhere like a fucking nightmare BUT! This is an earth without monsters, angels, demons, nothing goes bump in the night but depression, paranoia and suicidal thoughts (now these are the real monsters) and YET this is THE chance for our heroes, this is the promised land, no past, only freedom, the american dream is theirs to grab (but don't worry this place hides a secret, this is still spn everything must be queer, you'll see). Sam, dean and mary are kinda lost cause, surprise surprise! It turns out that's not the things you want that you can't have but that you didn't know what you wanted so how could you have it in the first place? Mary is restless, this was supposed to be her dream, she died for it and now she doesn't want it and she goes through another deep existential crisis (and, really, we all just get mary because seriously? any character named mary who's also a mother has too much fucking weight on her shoulder, just let the woman be). Sam is kinda okay with it, he once again refuses to get in touch with his emotions and flees from them like the plague: they're gonna make it work, they will find a way (i want to convey ross from friends vibes when he's like *in a squeaky voice* i'm fine! Here, that's sam in the AU). The guy lives in his delusion, this is his chance at being normal (and oh boy is he wrong, you'll see). Dean feels just bad, he's supposed to feel happy with his mother and his brother/son (the weird implications of this situation will be explored) but he keeps thinking about that little house by the sea (or was it a lake?) that cas bought as fucking jimmy novak and how the angel spent months there with kelly playing daddy and how the fucking angel played him and dean just went along and repaired his stupid truck as if to thank him for breaking his heart but also, also, dean will never admit it to anyone ever but deep down he knows, he knows, that that was his place, his angel, his chance (we will also have an explorations into the complex theme of mpreg with the due "Junior" references we all deserve and insights into dean's maternal insticts).

Now back to earth.

Kelly gives birth to a baby jack, cas lives with them to protect them from the angels and demons that will sure come for a visit (but once again he will end up being a total agent of chaos, you'll see), the angel is a bit of a mess, though, and his obsession with saving dean winchester is finally making kelly feel quite concerned with her life choices, maybe trusting this guy was a little bit insane, was he always this deranged? (We'll soon see why she thinks that, she might have a point). Meanwhile crowley goes back to hell and we once again have a cheap game of thrones situation (because why not? i can't come up with infinite original ideas to fix this plot, okay? Also this is still spn, i can condone SOME cheap storylines on the side, and anyway mark sheppard makes anything work so we're good) where his varys-like smart brain cells will put him on the throne again (who's this asmodeus guy anyway, prince of hell or not, fuck him, he will not stick around here for a second season while dagon died like after 2 episodes she was in, not gonna happened in my narrative). But, you see, the demon has his own issues, and goes visiting kelly and the angel because why not? He likes kelly she seems interesting enough for a person who birthed satan's son, escaped from a fucking angel of the lord, was kidnapped by a goddamn prince of hell, managed to baby trap said angel of the lord, stole the frigging impala and escaped that menace that the winchesters are. She then proceeded to give birth knowing she might have died. She is something. Something a bit unhinged maybe but crowley digs her, okay? He still also has varys-like smart brain cells so he needs to visit to make sure that baby lucifer is, like, not plotting to take over hell or whatever newborn babies half-made from cosmic entities do these days. Also, also, watching castiel putting baby jack to sleep with those big strong angel gym-bro arms did something to him, his daddy fetish and his mommy issues raised their head and something else too, and he foolishly promises to keep jack safe from hellish attacks and indulges castiel in his winchester obsession. What? He misses the brothers too, those handsome, tall, cruel white boys (we are reminded that, visually, the whole cas/kelly/jack situation is quite similar to the weird crowley/dean/amara thing of s11, mirrors and parallels need to keep happening people, this is spn, we gott have 'em). Castiel is living his tragic destiny yet again, he's seen the AU, has been there, technically knows that dean, sam and mary are safe but he just has to see it for himself, right? Like he has to make sure, it's not like dean not being there is eating him from the inside, it's not like he starts feeling the pang of guilt over the huge betrayal he's forced onto dean,leaving him left behind again and again and playing him that way, no. He copes by sitting in his stupid truck that dean had repaired listening to that damn tape (every time he does that we have a close-up of kelly watching the pathetic scene from her window and sighing as if in "fuck, FUCK, my life"). And oh, yes he also starts researching about archangel resurrection because i may or may not bring back my girls, aka raphael and uriel but this is for part 2, you'll see.

[what-if-i-just-did]

So, the subject of 9/11 has been coming up in my life lately for some reason, and like everything I think about, it quickly got infused with my spn obsession.

Now I'm not American, and I wasn't even alive at the time, but Sam and Dean are and were. And it's the type of thing, where you remember exactly what you were doing when it happened, right? So, what where Sam and Dean doing?

It's 2001. This is the year that Sammy left for Stanford. Not only is it the year Sammy left for Stanford, but it's very, very soon after. The school year starts late august or early september. The Twin Towers crashed on the eleventh of september, so... not exactly early september, but not quite mid, either. Let's say Sammy's been gone about two/three weeks. Now, I figure John kept Dean around for one more case before he sent him away- couldn't look at him, only saw Mary, probably blamed the boy for Sammy leaving. Dean's walking around with this pit in his stomach, thinking he wasn't good enough to keep his family together and some mild panic about not being able to take care of Sam and some exsistential dread about who is he if he's not taking care of Sam. He's probably flirting too hard with all the girls in his cases, choosing the whiskey over the beer just a little too many times. Fingers hovering over the call button at any given time. This is the general state of Dean during this time.

Sam? He's just gotten out of the life. He's just promised himself he's never gonna hunt again, he misses his brother but he's more angry at him, for now. He hasn't made any friends yet, and it's starting to get to that time where his body feels he's been in one place for so long now that his dad is gonna come pick him up soon. He's antsy, but again, angry. Stubborn, smart. It's gonna take a long time for him to feel normal while staying in one place for more than three months at most. He's barely started adjusting to civillian life.

Now John. There's a journal entry for september eleventh. It says he suspects Supernatural interference with this, and he's been on the phone with other hunters all day. He's gonna head down to New York to take a look at things, and he's meeting up with people over there. No reference to Dean or Sam at all, nothing about being worried. The most emotional thing in the entry is the first sentence, "Shaken." .Honestly, it's more than I expected from him. The man has worse emotional regulation than Dean does, and that's saying something. He's still dealing with shoving down whatever form of hate or regret or pride come bubbling up when he thinks about Sam taking off, so he's not thinking about it.

I think he called Dean. I think it was a short conversation, full of "Yes, sir."'s from Dean's side and orders that looked like questions from John's. He says he called to get Dean's opinion of the Supernatural element of the crash, but Dean'll only say what John wants him to and somewhere, he knows it. He does not realise the reason he called Dean is to make sure Dean's alright, and he tries to distract himself from thoughts of Sam by keeping busy.

It's random Tuesday, and Sam probably signed up for some 8 o'clock class, so that would be what he was doing when the planes crashed. Of course, soon, the news got out, and classes got cancelled. Sam's head becomes chaotic, because of course this happens during his first few weeks, that's just his luck, and he's worried, about his dad but mostly about Dean. He calls Bobby, who's fine and tells him his dad's fine too, and Sam thanks him and hangs up, because he doesn't wanna waste the man's time. He and a bunch of other students are huddled around a tv, terrified. Ten AM, the first Tower collapses, and he has no idea what to do. He wants to help, but... what can he do? He wants to call Dean. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's going to happen. He's terrified. He spends the majority of the Eleventh huddled around that tv, with a bunch of other students he doesn't know as well as he could. It takes one, maybe two days for Sam to decide to get to New York, probably with some other students, so he can help. It's only about two hours away, and the impromptu medical skills he's gotten from patching up his dad and brother may not have helpedn anyone, but he can damn well help clean up.

Dean wakes up between five and six AM, has a beer, cleans his guns. He knows what's happening fairly early for someone who isn't in New York, because he checks the news, wether he's looking for a case or out of boredom or out of habit, and he kinda panics. He thinks, I don't know where dad is and I don't know if Sammy's safe I can't protect him and shit are we under attack what's gonna happen next and he kinda panicks. If he's already on a case, he kinda forgets about it. He stays in his motel room all day, following the news and thinking up worst case scenarios. His dad calls him, shortly, and he manages not to sound scared. His dad suspects demons did this or something, but he doesn't really care. At least he knows his dad's safe, and if he's feeling something about the fact that dad didn't ask him where he was or if he's okay, then he shoves it down and pretends it's not there. Eventually his worry wins out over whatever was stopping him from calling Sam, and he has to cough when Sam picks up because otherwise he might do something else. He can tell by Sammy's tone of voice that Sam's scared, and doesn't once bitch about Dean calling him. Just says he's safe and worried and still at Stanford, and that's good enough for Dean. Dean subcounsiously avoids New York and area for the next year or so, worried about something or other. No one he knows is dead, he should be happy.

Okay, wow. That got longer than I expected it to.

[astermacguffin]

What if the Mark of Cain manifests differently when it's imprisoning God and not the Darkness? If the Darkness makes the Mark bearer go insane with unbridled want for destruction, then what does sealing God make you do?

An obsessive desire for creation? Creation to the point of corruption? (Think of the Shimmer from the film Annihilation. Continuous reproduction to the point of begetting alien, cancer-like entities. A refracted, distorted notion of creation.)

Okay, so canon divergence from The Trap. They successfully seal away Chuck, then Castiel bears the Mark. (Jack won't be back until later episodes, so he's not here yet.)

At first, they think he's fine. Cas says he's not feeling any bloodlust just yet. (He does feel a certain itch under his skin. Not a desire to murder, but a desire to do...something. He doesn't tell this to anyone.)

His grace is getting stronger, almost archangel-like (if not more). It's incredibly helpful for hunts, and Cas is happy to feel his wings healthy again after a long time. Sam is happy for him, but Dean is suspicious of things (especially since he's a previous Mark bearer).

After a while, Cas starts feeling...burdened, almost bloated by grace. (After all, he does have access to an infinite supply of it.) He needs to have an outlet for it.

Cas tells them so and Sam suggests healing people. Dean gives the green light on the condition that he remains invisible and he doesn't go Godstiel on them again.

It's a great outlet, and for the first few weeks they start feeling normal again. But unfortunately, healing stops being enough to relieve Cas of his excess grace anymore. The mass healings start to pile up all across the globe and it catches everyone's attention. Some think it's a blessed miracle, some think it's a sign of the end times. They make him slow down on the healings after that.

Without an outlet, however, Cas starts feeling antsy and pained. They brainstorm on possible alternatives. Cas suggests going to Heaven and saving it from collapse by healing his brethren's wings and creating more angels out of consenting souls in Heaven.

He explains Heaven's endangered and dwindling numbers. Sam agrees that it would hit two birds in one stone: relieve Cas from excess grace and prevent the extinction of angels. Dean doesn't like the idea of more winged dicks so he shoots down the idea. Eileen says that since Cas is the one in pain, he should be the one to decide.

Ultimately, Cas defers to Dean's judgment (as always). Sam protests, arguing that he can't just shoulder that pain. Cas replies: "I've suffered worse, Sam."

Cas doesn't complain about the pain for about a week, so for a while, everyone believes him when he said he can shoulder the pain. One day, Dean finds him outside the bunker, groaning in pain as he bleeds himself out, his grace pouring into the ground and sprouting plants. Dean sees this and is finally convinced to allow Cas to make more angels.

What follows then is a series of escalating events:

While Sam and Eileen are practicing their witchcraft for spell they need in a hunt, Cas suggests to enhance Sam's physical and magical abilities using his grace. "It will make the process faster and safer," he reasons. He agrees, but Dean eyes this suspiciously.

During one of their hunts, they encounter a young and freshly-turned vampire. The boy begs them not to kill him, and Cas gives him a proposal. "Promise not to feed on humans ever again and I shall cure you of your hungers and your pains. Pledge your allegiance to me and you shall never be afraid of yourself ever again." The boy agrees, and before Dean could even protest, Cas slices his palm and feeds the vampire his grace.

They argue about the grace-feeding in the Impala. Dean notices Sam's pointed lack of complaints and figures it out. "You're in on this, aren't you? How long has Cas been doing this? He's going Michael behind our backs and you're letting him?"

Sam argues that it's different because Cas isn't making super monsters; he's making them less "monstrous" (whatever that means). Sam's obsession with his own "purity" is key to understanding him here.

One time, Dean catches Cas in his "garden" ("forest" seems more apt with how lush the greens already are) creating butterflies and bees out of thin air using his grace alone.

Reports of the miraculously healed people suddenly gaining new abilities like increased strength, heightened senses, and prophecy start popping up. Some are experiencing phantom limbs, talking about their sprouting "wings."

Sam is becoming addicted to Cas' grace to the point that he willingly lets himself be hurt in hunts just so Cas can cure him. Dean confronts him about this, but Sam just argues that he's "never felt this pure before." Eileenn shares the same concern as Dean.

Hunts are becoming less frequent the more monsters are being "cleansed" by Cas. The world is becoming disconcertingly quiet.

Cas' "garden" is starting to emit this strange aura. The plants and creatures growing inside it are starting to look more...alien.

One of the original angels goes to Dean and tells him of Heaven's affairs. The Host is stable again, but the angels he created are...not exactly angels. They're graced up and they sustain Heaven, but their true forms are "horrifying and incomprehensible, even to an angel." The angel adds that more than 60% of Earth's creatures have already been touched by Cas' grace.

The final nail in the coffin is when Dean catches Cas in the garden fiddling with his angel blade. It's emitting a strange glow, vibrating a subtle hum and looking as if it's liquid, flowing and distorting here and there.

Dean asks him what he's holding. "Oh, this?" Cas responds. "This is the Last Blade. Last, not in terms of time but in concept, for no other blade shall ever compare to it. The spark of creation. Fiat lux."

Dean's heart sinks. Of course. The First and the Last, Alpha and Omega. "Cas...the Mark, I think i-it's scrambling your brain, man."

"I know," he replies, eyes wet and apologetic. It's a small moment of lucidity amidst weeks and months of...whatever that was.

"Okay, okay, so you're still you, that's... that's good. Okay." Dean doesn't know how to approach this. Give him a fight and he'll know what to do, but this? Watching his best friend, the love of his life, be distorted into something incomprehensible? Yeah, this is totally beyond him.

"You know, I used to hate Chuck," Cas says. "How could the Father of All Creation be this angry, petulant child? But," he continues, "knowing what I know now, it's either regressing into a petty child or being reduced to insanity."

"Cas...what are you talking about, man?"

"No mind should bear this burden, Dean. No matter how infinite they are," he says, voice trembling in exhaustion.

(more below the cut)

He continues. "The awareness of everything is the awareness of nothing at all. Imagine perceiving every possible piece of information about the world all at once. Seeing light in all its forms all at once: ultraviolet, infrared, etc. Sensing all the neutrinos zip by, sensing gravitational waves, sensing the slighest bit of seismic activity."

Dean doesn't know how to respond, so he lets him go on.

"Knowledge can only ever be a slice of the Totality of Truth. Truth is absolute chaos, and Knowledge is the partial ordering of this chaos. One can sanely approach Truth only through organized paritions of Totality. Why do you think Chuck is so obsessed with stories? Stories are linear and finite; they're sensible snippets of the endless sea of possible worlds."

"So, what? Are you trying to—"

"I'm not trying to justify Chuck's actions, Dean," he interrupts. "I just want to contextualize them. Chuck's simplistic and repetitive narratives are what they are: manifestations of a chaotic Totality, gone insane trying to understand itself. Looking for simple things to hold on to."

Cas takes a deep breath. He speaks with a shaky voice. "I'm barely holding myself together, Dean. I can feel the universe beneath my skin."

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does it anyway. "What are you holding on to?"

Cas smiles at that. "You."

They stare at each other for a while, frozen where they stand. Cas, with unrestrained affection in his face. Dean, struck by shock and indecision. It's Cas who first breaks the silence.

"I think we both know what needs to be done, while I'm still lucid enough." Cas slices his palm and lets his blood drip down the soil. He then thrusts the Last Blade into the ground, lifting it when the soil glows.

Dean stared in awe as the ground erupts and a familiar shape rises from the hollow. "Is that.."

"The Ma'Lak box, yes. I also enhanced it with the Blade to be able to house things as powerful as me."

"Cas, wait, maybe we can think of another way to—"

"Dean," he says, calmly. "You know there's no other way. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was."

In any other scenario, Dean would've kept arguing, but even he knows that they're running out of time. Sam's grace addiction is getting worse and all the creatures touched by Cas' grace are slowly mutating into eldritch horrors. Dean offers a shaky nod. "Okay."

Tension visibly releases from Cas' body. "Thank you, Dean." He opens the box and enters it with ease. "When you lock this, bury me with the garden's graced soil. Once I'm under, my influence over the world should dampen."

Dean gives a wordless nod. For a while, they just stared at each other, Cas lying down and Dean trying to memorize every inch of his face while he can.

Cas presses his hand into Dean's left shoulder where his mark used to dwell. "My untainted grace," he whisper gently. "Some of it is still inside you. That's probably why you're not as affected by me."

Dean wants to say, I'll always be affected by you, but he holds himself back.

He takes his hand back, a bloody handprint now on Dean's jacket. "I love you, Dean," he says, breathless.

"Cas..."

"I probably would've built up to that if we had more time but," he makes a surprised laugh, "I am, as you would say, already 'losing my marbles', so."

The air quotes would've been funny and endearing in any other scenario, but it just makes Dean's vision blur up with tears.

"Thank you for everything, Dean. I know we've done nothing but repeatedly hurt each other these past few years, but I don't want to spend a deathless eternity with that as my memory of you. I forgive you, even for the things you haven't forgiven yourself for yet. And I'm sorry for everything, especially for ending things like this."

He should probably wipe away his tears to clear his vision, but Dean can do nothing but stare at Cas in awe, in fear, in grief, in reverence. They're both fully crying now.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

Cas looks at him, waiting.

"Can you...can you say it again?"

He doesn't need to clarify what 'it' means. They both know.

With one last mournful smile, Cas says: "I love you, Dean."

And with that, Dean finally gathers all the strength he needs to shut the lid and lock the box. He stares at it for a while, unblinking. He forgot to ask, Can you hear my prayers down there? But it's too late now to ask.

The box automatically lowers itself into the hole it arose from. Now all that's left to do is to cover it again with soil.

Dean doesn't bother with a shovel. He gently buries the box with his hands deep in the soil, some of it getting trapped under his nails. He continues the mindless task, whispering a tireless series of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I hope you're okay I'm sorry, over and over between his quiet sobs. Cas is quiet inside the box. No screaming or crying. Dean doesn't know if that's better or worse.

When the final clump of soil is pressed into the mound, he suddenly feels it: a visceral shift that echoes throughout the world. The alien glimmer of the garden dims, and the world corrects its axis. Dean screams his agony into the air.

That's how Sam finds him: sprawled over a mound of soil, crying his heart out. Dean doesn't need to say anything: he knows what happened. He pulls his brother off the ground and brings him inside the bunker.

For the first two weeks, Dean cycles through drinking and passing out in various places in the bunker. If he's not wearing the jacket, he's holding it with close to him. Sam gives him a considerable space to grieve while he monitors the world grace problem with Eileen. The grace mutations have significantly dropped since then and everyone's going back to normal.

Unfortunately, that means monsters are getting hungry again. Sam doesn't want to leave his brother alone after going nonverbal with grief and dysfunctional due to alcohol. Eileen assures him that she can handle hunts on their own and that the hunter network that they're building will lessen the workload.

Sam's attempts to sober Dean up finally work, mostly due to the latter having very little strength to protest. Dean remains sober an entire day for the first time in weeks, and all he can think about is: I haven't prayed to Cas in a while. The longing might have reached him, but never a coherent prayer.

The first time he goes out of the bunker in a while, he heads straight to Cas' garden. Sam's glad that he's finally going out because "the sun is good for you" or something, but he's really only here for Cas. He kneels in front of the burial mound (where a patch of an unknown species of flowers is already growing).

The first prayer he says to him in a while is: I love you, Cas. I should've said it while you were still here. Not saying it out loud and just strongly thinking about the words somehow bolsters him to get the words through.

He's crying again, and he knows he's losing coherency. In his mind, he's explaining about his hangups and his regrets and his continuous denial of his own joy, but one constant remains: he's beaming all his love and affection into this prayer.

He's halfway through explaining all the traits that he finds endearing in Cas when suddenly, he feels it like a snap. If the glimmer dimmed when he buried Cas, now it's as if it was never there in the first place. With an unsettling amount of certainty, Dean just knows that Cas is gone. For real, this time.

"C-cas...?" It's the first thing he's said in a while and it sounds rough in his long unused voice.

"CAS! CAS!!! " He's now screaming, ripping away the flowerbed with his bare hands and scratching the soil away. Tears are obstructing his vision, but he has no time to wipe them away. He needs to make sure that is really gone. His hands are bleeding and he doesn't give a damn.

Eventually, Sam comes running towards him. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

He tries to hold his brother back, but Dean just keeps on clawing away soil. "Sammy, Sammy he's gone, he's not there anymore, Sammy I have to see, please, let me see Cas again, I need—" he breaks into sobs again, and like a puppet with its strings cut off, he slumps into Sam.

"Dean, it's okay, it's okay..." he says softly to his shaking brother.

Eventually, when Dean calms down, he looks at the carnage he's done and starts sobbing again. The flowers, his last evidence of Cas being here, are all destroyed. Now Cas truly is gone.

. . .

When Cas first heard Dean's confession prayer, he was overcome with joy. When he realized what that means, however, his stomach suddenly sinks.

He hears before he sees the Empty arrive, slithering like black goo.

"Wow, were you excited enough for eternal slumber that you wanted a preview?" The Shadow teases in Meg's voice.

At first, he was dreading the Empty, but now that he thinks of it, it's actually the perfect prison for him: a vast, endless nothingness for him to fill with his creations.

And if Jack wasn't in Heaven, that only means that he's in the Empty, and he can't wait to see his son again. Even when blinded by the madness of the universe, he can never forget the joy of being a father.

"Yes," he replies, "I'm actually glad you're here now."

. . .

Somewhere around the globe, Billie drops Jack back.

"Don't worry, kid. You'l reunite with your father very soon."

(to be continued)

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

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ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

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“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hot Girl Summer

Summary: Dean and the reader are enjoying a day at the beach when Dean notices the reader is still dressed on the scorching hot summer day...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Positive Body Image

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, body insecurities

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story bingo!

______

“How are you not boiling?” asked Dean. He was seated next to you in his lawn chair on the lake shore beach. Shirt off, swim trunks pushed up some, sweat covering his face behind his sunglasses and baseball cap. He grabbed his beer from the cooler between you, chugging it down. “Want to dip in the water to cool off for a minute?”

“Go ahead. I gotta run to the bathroom,” you said.

“Pee in the lake.”

“Dean.”

“I’ve already peed in the lake today.”

“Oh my God.”

“You think none of those other people out in the water have peed in it? At least half of them, I guarantee it.”

“Dean. You’re being gross.”

“At least I’m not being silly.”

“About wanting to use a hygienic bathroom?”

“First off, it’s a county park bathroom. Taking a piss in the parking lot would be more hygienic. Second, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” You narrowed your eyes behind your sunglasses, Dean reaching a hand over, resting it on your t-shirt. “Would you take off your shirt and shorts and go swimming with me? Please?”

“There are people here,” you said quietly.

“Sweetheart.”

“I don’t look like that,” you said, nodding at the woman that stood from her chair nearby and started to walk into the water, wearing a tiny red bikini.

“I’d be concerned if you did. I might think you were a shifter or something.”

“Dean.”

“Y/N. Do I have six pack abs?” he asked, poking his stomach.

“You’re normal and muscular. Your thighs are smaller than mine.”

“Your arms are smaller than mine,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Dean sliding his hand down to yours. “Your hands are smaller than mine. Why does it matter about being smaller?”

“Because that’s what’s pretty and I don’t want people looking at me all day.”

“Because you haven’t been obsessively staring at every single woman on this beach all morning yourself. Whether they’re a size zero or twenty, you’ve stared at every single one and they’ve stared at you already. They’re already looking so why give a fuck?”

“It’s just...some days I think I look great and others I don’t and today is one of those ones where I don’t. I just don’t want someone staring at my stomach or hips or thighs or boobs or whatever and saying stuff. It’s always...it’s always the clothes look good on the model or the bikini looks good on the mannequin when I buy it and then I just…”

Dean squeezed your hand before resting it on your thigh. 

“You don’t have to convince me of anything sweetheart. I know what I see in you. I know what I see and what I love. I know I can’t tell you how attractive I find you and suddenly you’ll feel that way about yourself. I don’t like me sometimes. Most of the time. But I get shoved in my face how to be a man more than what I should look like so I don’t think I’ll ever know to the extent women get it. I just want to go swimming with my girl and have some fun today, not solve both our body insecurities in one discussion. If you want to wear your shirt and shorts that’s okay. I’d like it if we could just have fun today and not sit here baking in the sun fretting the whole day.”

“Me too,” you said quietly. You took off your sunglasses, Dean ditching his and his hat on top of the cooler. “Let me put some more sunscreen on your shoulders first.”

You grabbed the bottle and squirted some of the cool liquid on his back, Dean humming as you rubbed it in.

“Your freckles have really come out today already,” you said.

“You’re gonna have to play your counting game tonight,” he chuckled. You wiped the excess down his back and arms, Dean standing as you set the bottle down. He held out a hand for yours but you looked down at yourself instead.

Two hours you’d already spent spinning your wheels, nitpicking your body, wondering why you couldn’t fit in smaller shorts. Wondering why you took up more space than you thought you should. You looked to the right, a woman in a white bandeau top and floral high waisted cheeky bottoms. She looked about your height, your size. But she had a big smile on her face, looked so fucking good and pretty. The guy she was with wasn’t hiding the fact of how he was openly taking her in, a big smirk on his face. The girl seated a ways back in a different group of people wasn’t hiding it either.

“Would you put some more on me?” you asked, glancing at the bottle.

“Sure,” said Dean. You pushed down your shorts as he picked it up, kicking them off and leaving them on your chair. Your shirt came off next and you adjusted your bottoms some as Dean squirted the sunscreen into his hand. “Let me get your chest so you don’t burn.”

“Don’t try to cop a feel,” you teased, hating how it sounded a little forced.

“Don’t tempt me,” he chuckled. You looked past him as he made sure to get the newly uncovered spots, Dean’s lips brushing your ear after a moment. “Okay?”

“I’m okay. Let’s go cool off, Dean.”

“That’s a cute shirt,” said Dean late that night as you were out to dinner at a place near the lake and your cabin you were renting. He took a bite of his chicken sandwich and hummed. “Is it new?”

“Bought it awhile ago,” you said. It was a tube top with a bottom that flowed out at the hips and had a cutout in the back, showing off more skin than you normally were comfortable with.

“I like it,” he said, letting out a quiet burp. “Wanna get this ice cream thing for dessert? It’s still pretty warm out.”

“Sure,” you said, surprised to see a dirty glare cross Dean’s face. You spun around when you saw he was looking behind you. Two guys were leaving the bar area for a table, both of them staring at what you guessed was your back. You sighed, Dean grumbling to himself. “Dean. Let it go.”

“You’re not meat,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“The tall one’s been checking you out from the second he got in.” Dean leaned over and kissed you, shooting the guy a warning glance. 

“I think he got the message,” you said.

“Better have,” he mumbled. “See? The only the one that hasn’t thought you were hot this whole time is you.”

“Well...maybe I don’t think I’m hot but maybe I’ll be less nervous to show some skin, wear what I want to wear.”

“You’re still gonna wear my shirts though right?”

“Obviously.”

“Good cause that shit is extra hot. Like you in that dark henley and those shorts fucks me up in a good way.”

“I could just wear nothing at all?” you teased. He grinned, leaning closer across the table. “That’ll be second dessert.”

“Yes it will,” he hummed. He pecked a quick kiss to your lips, slipping back into his seat. “Have fun today?”

“A lot of fun,” you said. “After I got out of my head.”

“Good,” he said quietly. You reached over the table and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Dessert?”

“Let’s make it to go,” you said. “Save it for after your other dessert.”

“Sounds perfect to me sweetheart.”

_________

[theyarebothgunshot]

Finally finished s9 and went right into s10 so I'm now in the midst of the Drowley summer of love (while Cas is sadly on his fainting couch in his robes and forlorn over how much he misses Dean). Jensen is very obviously having a ton of fun with demon Dean the karaoke king lmao but it's also interesting that so far, demon Dean is mostly just free of most of the self-loathing (okay, yes, he's committing murder too, but it's all demons that Crowley sets up to fight him so he doesn't get consumed by the mark). Without the pressure to be a hunter, without a mission to bludgeon himself with, he isn't seething and obsessive like he was when he was still working with Sam to track down Abaddon and Metatron; he says it himself, he's having the time of his life. The mark is still transforming him, of course (the scene where he beats up the woman's controlling boyfriend is an indicator; he's able to hold himself back from killing him, but he's taking more glee in the violence than he normally would). But the fascinating thing about the Mark Arc (lol) is that it's highlighting how toxic the hunting life is for Dean, how much he really *does* need a break (and also how mutually destructive his and Sam's dynamic is -- that's been clear since s3, really, that they are much better off with some significant and regular space between them and omg, once again, I truly do NOT understand the people who are bros only). - Honeymoon Anon

(and of course I say that about Cas with much love lol and that “siiiigh I miss him” was perfect)… but I do want to talk about Cas in this arc too because he’s obviously in love with Dean specifically and of course he will choose Dean every time no matter what, but he *does* understand something deeper about humanity now and he values and cares for humanity in a way none of the other angels do (his speech to Hannah about the fruits of human chaos, yes!). It’s informed his ethics, even though he isn’t sure what the right thing is anymore, and he’s still trying to atone for what he did when he was God and he’s slowly starting to realize that this absolute power is corrosive and irreparably broken, so that has to be so disorienting for him. Anyway, really loving these particular plot lines and character developments! - Honeymoon Anon

YESSSS to everything you said!!! god reading this makes me wish even more that they went with the demon dean arc for longer, AND that they explored the dynamics between demon dean and cas....... we could have had it all........ oof. this show. it really did some good good shit when it wanted to huh

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

[autisticandroids]

"Emotional in*est"- Do you even hear yourself? There's no such thing as emotional in*est. Just say you're a win*est shipper and go. I hate how freaks like you always try to grasp at straws to seem all "intellectual", when you're nothing but a freak who faps to things like ped*philia, best*ality and in*est. THAT'S why Jensen hates shippers. You don't want to see a positive queer relationship, you just want to read about Jensen getting fu*ked no matter who or WHAT it is. You're disgusting

now, i want to be clear, i received this ask at 2:46 am, about an hour after posting this answer. i want you to read that linked post. it’s a discussion of familial abuse. specifically, anon was talking about how upsetting they found the nature of trauma in supernatural - how none of the characters ever break the cycle. they mention how i had talked about sam and dean as a potentially emotionally incestuous relationship as something they found relatable to their own situation of familial abuse. i responded by agreeing that it’s upsetting that supernatural did that, and trying to comfort them a bit.

this anon saw that, and immediately not only accused me of incest fetishism, but sent similar anons to my mutuals.

@steveyockey messaged me this anon that he received, seemingly at about the same time i did. it’s clearly the same person. now, i love ziz, but we don’t have a significant public relationship. we don’t, say, talk about each other in posts or tags. i think i’ve mentioned her once. i reblog a lot of his posts and he reblogs a few of mine, but i have many other much more obvious public relationships, some of them with other BNFs like ziz. i expect that as they start to wake up, they too will notice that they’ve received anons like this.

all of this over explicitly talking about the familial abuse dynamics legible in supernatural, a show whose perhaps most persistent theme is toxic and abusive family dynamics.

the obsessive moral panic over the existence of wincest is fascinating to me, especially coming from destiel shippers. i’ve discussed in the past how i personally don’t think there’s anything wrong with people shipping wincest, as long as they do it far away from me, because i find incest gross and don’t want to hear about it. 

sam and dean have a dynamic in the text of the show that you could reasonably read as emotionally incestuous - they fill the role traditionally filled by a romantic partner. this is emphasized by the fact that when sam tries to escape dean, which he does with some regularity until season eight, which is when he just gives up, he always immediately finds a romantic partner, and is then eventually dragged away from her by dean. sam knows, on some level, that in order to escape dean, which he wants to do, he needs to replace dean in his life with someone else, in order to make it more difficult for dean to reclaim that role by force. 

this stuff is all in the text of the show, with not that much interpretation. it’s a pretty solid depiction of cycles of familial trauma and abuse. john parentifies dean (which is a form of abuse related to covert incest), dean turns around and does covert incest to sam. 

when i’m analyzing supernatural seriously, one of the things that interests me the most is the theme of familial abuse. this interpretation inevitably comes up when i’m discussing that, because it’s an intensely plausible interpretation of the text. the fact that i immediately get accused of being an incest fetishist (and a pedophile and zoophile?) for mentioning it seems to indicate that there is, frankly, something wrong in the destiel fandom.

but frankly, i don’t like this defense of myself. it’s a little too “no, not me! you have the wrong witch!” for my tastes.

even if i were an incest fetishist, it is intensely creepy to me that not only did i get an angry message about it, other people did as well. the wave of purity politics that has overtaken fandom spaces is intensely unsettling to me, especially the anti-sex bent that it’s taken in recent years. 

when i was a teenager, there was still a very damaging purity culture in tumblr fandom, but it was around social justice - how do you be the least racist, least sexist, least transphobic, least homophobic, least ableist person, and so on. this culture was intensely damaging to me, psychologically, exacerbating already present obsessive compulsive and other anxious tendencies, but at least i agreed with the basic project: i do think it’s good for people to try to become less racist, less sexist, less homophobic, less transphobic, less ableist. i think that participating in a terrifying, abusive purity cult is a bad, damaging, and ineffective-in-the-long-term way to do that, but i think the intent is in the right place. 

however, because of certain changes in online culture, that kind of social justice has kind of become “cringe” and therefore fallen apart. like, it’s still present, but far less strong than it used to be. but the purity cult has remained, only now it’s explicitly only about sex. people will try and hunt down the most deviant expression of sexuality they can find, and put that on trial. it doesn’t matter what that sexuality is. i am frequently on record as saying that if wincest didn’t exist, destiel would be considered the irredeemably problematic ship of the supernatural fandom, and in fact i’m constantly surprised that i, personally, have never been cancelled for romanticizing abuse, something which i try not to do, but walk a pretty fine line on. but no one cares about the toxicity of destiel because rather than having a sensible barometer of reasonable behavior, everyone is simply fixated on finding and persecuting the most deviant option available. thus, since destiel is by comparison less deviant than wincest, it’s fine. 

but this culture doesn’t actually have anything to do with, like i said, a sensible barometer of reasonable behavior. it just goes for the most deviant option available. the same culture that comes for wincest shippers is the culture that comes for, i don’t know, people who ship the wrong she-ra ships. as you can probably tell, it’s been a while since i’ve been in a giant fandom full of youngsters. it’s not actually about the specific morality of shipping wincest, it’s about asking “who is it okay for me to hurt” and finding the most deviant people available for an answer. 

this is why they reached so hard to try and accuse me of being a wincest shipper. they wanted to bully someone, or perhaps they had a problem with me (though given that they don’t seem to have searched my blog, because if they had they would have found better ammunition, i suspect it’s the former), and so they accused me of shipping wincest - the worst possible accusation, an accusation that makes it okay to accuse me of anything and do whatever they like to me. 

like, you, The Girl (GN) Reading This, should be creeped out by this behavior. no matter what your opinion of wincest. even if you post “wincesties die” every day. because you will more than likely at some point in your life find yourself on the wrong end of this culture, for something which you consider totally innocuous. that, or perhaps you will be coerced into participating in some kind of bullying campaign, which is traumatizing in its own sense - even if you enjoy it at the time, it’s likely you will grow to regret it. hurting other people sucks.

i’m going to bed and i’m going to leave this as my last post until i wake up in like, four hours, so as many people can read it as possible. i would love for people to think about the kind of fan culture they’re participating in where not only me but people i interact with get sent these kinds of messages.

i don’t know, i feel like this *checks notes* fifteen hundred word essay i’ve written is a touch pearl-clutchy. anon hate is something normal on the internet. i get it about once a week, and normally i respond with jokes. some people are just assholes. i’m unusually sensitive about this kind of thing because like i said, i’ve had some formatively bad experiences with social justice purity politics. i also put a lot of value on having my cards on the table - if someone is going to get mad at me for saying “i don’t think wincesties should die” i would like them to get mad now, and not wait until i trip over a landmine. so those things were definitely part of the reason i wanted to write this.

but in this case, this person who decided to be an asshole was also sending messages about me to other people i know, which is creepy in and of itself, but also: i don’t necessarily trust the people i know in this fandom not to decide to shun me on the strength of an anonymous accusation of wincest shipping. that’s how strong the purity culture is in this fandom in specific. and i personally find that incredibly distasteful. like, you’re gay people aren’t you? you’re aware that mainstream society will always consider you sexual deviants no matter how respectable you are? yes? like this person wants to intentionally destroy my social connections and reputation. which is much more threatening than just saying nasty shit to me on anon.

[forlove2020]

Day 2 - No Vacancy

It is the last day of November and no one wants to buy any more pumpkins. 

Halloween has gone by, and Thanksgiving has blown past too. The people of Lebanon, Kansas have had their fill of the bright orange gourds - for more than two months they've displayed them on their front porches, carved them into jack-o-lanterns, and added them into every kind of dessert and frothy little drink imaginable.

And that is why, on November 30th, Dean decides his family is going on a field trip to the Lebanon Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch.

Things have been good lately. No, scratch that. Life has been freakin' awesome. It has been just under two weeks since he rescued Cas from the Empty and a week since Jack came home. Dean is over the moon; radiating happiness in a way he never has before. They're all together, alive, and no Big Bad hovers menacingly on the horizon. Dean's not one to believe in a 'best case scenario,' but hell if this doesn't feel just like it.

The farm is about a twenty-five minute drive from the Bunker, and Dean, Cas, and Jack pull up in the Impala at the same time as Sam and Eileen arrive in Sam's CR-V. 

(Dean had teased him mercilessly about his new ride until Sam looked him dead in the eye, placing his hand protectively on Eileen's protruding belly, and insisted "Honda gets really good safety ratings, Dean." Dean, wisely, had shut up after that.)

Claire and Kaia are already there waiting, leaning up against Claire’s car, hand in hand. Jack leaps out of Baby as soon as Dean puts her in park, barreling toward the girls so he can nag Claire about his latest obsession: TikTok. Even from a distance it’s clear she’s rolling her eyes at him, but smiling despite herself

Dean and Cas get out of the car at a more leisurely pace and survey their surroundings.

What had been a busy festival complete with a lush corn maze, vibrant pumpkin patch, and stalls selling kettle corn and caramel apples two months ago is now a dismal scene. The corn maze has dried out and shriveled up, and the stalls are unmanned. Technically, there are still pumpkins aplenty in the field, but they're the ones that have been forsaken. The remaining pumpkins are leftovers that were considered either too skinny, too fat, or just too misshapen and lumpy to have been picked as the cream-of-the-crop.

Dean looks over at Cas. He’s squinting at the scenery in the dim autumn sunlight, and the nippy breeze has swept through his dark hair, making it seem more tousled than usual. Not for the first time, Dean thinks that he is gorgeous.

But now, he can actually tell Cas what he is feeling in these moments. There are no more half-truths or lies between them, nothing secret. After years of pining for one another without any hope of reciprocation and hiding the pains of longing, they’ve finally broken down the walls that kept them apart. They love one another fiercely, and while their relationship is new, it is not tenuous. 

So, Dean turns to him with a crooked grin.  “Hey, handsome.”

Cas blinks, and then a little smile curls the corners of his mouth. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean moves closer until their shoulders are brushing and he can feel the warmth of Cas’ body through both of their jackets. “You think Jack’s gonna be disappointed?” he asks quietly, watching their kid practically tackle Sam with a hug as Eileen signs something Dean can’t quite make out from the other end of the parking lot. “I mean, this isn’t exactly the ‘autumn glory’ we were promised on those fliers earlier this month.”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate. “No. I think Jack just appreciates having a normal...uh, sort of a normal life again. He’s excited to be here picking pumpkins, especially with Claire and Kaia, and Sam and Eileen joining us. This was a nice surprise you planned for him, Dean.”

It’s a simple compliment, and not even particularly saccharine, but Dean flushes from head to toe anyway. He’s working on believing the good things Cas says about him; he’s really trying, but it’s always been difficult for him to take a compliment about anything other than his good looks or hunting prowess. Instead, he meets Cas’ eye, and nods silently. And then, remembering he is allowed, takes Cas’ hand in his own, twining their fingers together.

They walk hand-in-hand to join Claire, Kaia, Jack, Sam and Eileen at the front gate. It’s hanging wide open, and no one is standing there to charge them an entrance fee. However, the sign does make a point to state that the maze is open until December 1st. Eileen shrugs, and so the seven of them wander down the path towards the pumpkin patch and the entrance to the maze. 

“Kaia! I’ll race you to the end!” Jack shouts, and laughing, Kaia chases him into the maze, dragging a grumbling Claire along behind her. 

“Let’s see if we can find anybody still working,” Sam suggests.

Eileen points at a worn down farmhouse tucked mostly behind a newly-painted red barn. “Someone must be home,” she signs pointedly, gesturing to plumes of smoke exuding from a grey chimney stack.

Dean ends up knocking on the door. He leaves Sam, Eileen, and Cas at a nearby picnic table, debating in Sign Language about the best flavor of cotton candy and whether or not the color of the dye changes the taste. 

 A minute or two later, an older man swings open the squeaky screen door to the house. He’s scowling, wearing muddy overalls, and chewing on a thick cigar. “Yeah?” he asks shortly. “Whaddya want?”

Dean raises his eyebrows at the farmer’s bluntness, but manages to respond politely. “My family and I saw fliers for this place a few weeks ago. We were hoping to buy some pumpkins and candy apples. What are you charging”

The farmer’s scowl grows deeper, and he looks past Dean to Sam, Eileen, and Cas relaxing on the bench, then narrows his eyes at the corn maze, where shrieks of laughter can be heard as the younger adults chase one another through the thinning stalks.

Getting impatient, with the man’s surly silence, Dean prods, “And…? It’s a yes or no question. Are you still selling pumpkins?”

The old man pulls the cigar out from between his teeth. “My wife and daughter run this hokey shit,” he grunts. “They went into town today ‘cause folks already came through here earlier in the month. They like customers. We haven't had anybody else stop by since before Thanksgiving.”

As his temper flares, Dean turns his grit teeth into a sharp smile. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! Here we are,” he says mockingly, sweeping his arms wide. The farmer mumbles something insulting and covers it with a hacking cough. Dean pretends not to hear him, “Fine. I take it from your sunny attitude that there will be no popcorn or apples today?” 

The man scoffs, “Enjoy the maze, boy-o. Free of charge.” He turns to lumber back inside, but Dean grabs the screen door before he can try to disappear.

“Hey!” the hunter barks. The farmer pauses, his body tensing for a fight. “Are you gonna sell me the goddamn pumpkins or not?” 

Cas has wandered to his side, either noticing the commotion, or simply because he wanted to be closer to Dean. Now, he interrupts casually, “You still have quite a few squash left in the fields and there’s going to be heavy frost two days from now, overnight. It’d be a shame if all of these pumpkins rotted, and you wasted the rest of your harvest.”

He has, quite deftly, snared the salty old farmer’s attention. Money is the man’s language; he might not enjoy having customers on his property so late in the season, but he certainly likes having the funds to maintain his land.

****************************************

“A hundred.”

“A hundred?” Sam sounds insulted. “You’re gonna pitch all of these in a couple days. There’s no way we’re paying a hundred. Try twenty-five dollars.”

The farmer rolls his eyes dramatically. He is in his element; the thrill of making a good deal and bartering his wares on the last day is an unexpected but welcome surprise that has put him in high spirits. “You’re cute, kid. I know my produce is worth more than that. I’ll go down to eighty-five, and you can take whatever you can carry in one trip.”

“Thirty-five,” Sam shoots back.

“Eighty.”

“Forty-one.” Once, Sam was going to be a lawyer. He’s got the upper hand in this situation and he’s going to crush his opposition. One more price reduction and they’ll have dozens of pumpkins to take home, way below the original asking price.

“Sevent…”

“Sixty-five, and we fill up all of our cars,” Dean interrupts, and Sam looks at him, utterly betrayed as the gleeful farmer shakes on the deal.

As Cas, Jack, Claire, and Kaia help carry the pumpkins to Sam and Claire’s cars respectively, Dean just claps Sam on the shoulder and tells his brother, “It’s still a cheaper family outing than going to Disney.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam says mournfully, and sulks over to help Eileen, who is supervising the influx of pumpkins that are being loaded into their vehicle.

Dean chuckles, and scoops up a few pumpkins. He’s got some recipes he wants to try out, plus he’s excited to teach Jack to carve ‘Jack’-o-lanterns. The kid seemed to want to learn how to do everything the human way now, and Dean is more than happy to teach him.

One by one, Dean places eight pumpkins in the backseat of Baby. One is tall and oblong with lots of stringy stems, matched with the only short and well rounded pumpkin he sees in the field. Between those two he sets a teeny tiny baby-sized pumpkin. Then, there’s a pumpkin that is half-green half-orange. It seems like it must have grown too fast because it is still quite young despite its size. Next, he adds two medium pumpkins that are also young, but growing strong. And last but not least, he picks up two more pumpkins. They are both a bit damaged - one is bruised and discolored, the other looks like it might have grown sideways. But Dean picks them because they lean against one another in the field, steady despite their flaws, despite what they’ve been through. 

He sets them all up in a long line along the backseat, and when Cas sees what he chose, his eyes go soft and warm as he looks at Dean.

“Let’s go home,” he breathes out, and takes Dean’s hand again.

Everyone gets in their cars - Dean in the driver's seat and Cas taking shotgun, as before. Jack tries to get in the Impala, then looks in the back window, and starts laughing. 

“Dean! There’s nowhere for me to sit.”

Cas chuckles quietly beside him, as Dean grins. “Aw, tough break, kid. Guess you’re walking home.”

“Hey, no fair- Dean! C’mon! Cas! Tell Dean he has to -”

Dean starts to roll up the window, laughing loudly as Jack knocks on the window pane.

“Sorry! No vacancy!” he hollers. Jack is nearly doubled over, hilarity spilling from him in peals of laughter.

Claire honks her horn loudly, and throws open the back door to her car. Jack straightens, and scrambles to join her and Kaia, shooting Dean and Cas a bright wave goodbye.

Sam and Eileen also wave as they leave the parking lot, wheels sending gravel spinning in their wake. Claire and Kaia follow, and Jack rolls down the window as they pass, and calls across to Cas and Dean, “This was the best family trip ever!”

They too are soon gone, headed for the Bunker to drop off dozens of pumpkins which will decorate every room until they end up decaying or until Dean cooks them. 

Dean and Cas wait until the others have left, and then Dean leans over and kisses Cas, long and sweet. When he pulls back, Cas traces his cheek, and says thoughtfully, “We could take the backroads home today….”

Dean is so gone on him. He kisses Cas once, twice more, and then puts the Impala in drive, and they’re on the road, taking the long way home.

**********************************

I enjoyed adding a little Day 1 ‘Harvest’ flare to Day 2!

My goal is to make most of my Suptober fics one-shots that are in some way related to my multichapter fix-it that is still a work in progress (Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, etc, post 15x20).

Thank you for reading!

-V

[khaleesiofalicante]

im so

tired

but

I wanna read this chp because max and Magnus figure their shit out and I have been looking forward to it

I need to be up at 7 for school

it is 2 13am

petition to bring Shafqat Mehmood back he was the one whole closed schools and switched us to online the first time

I need that right now

ok anyway

shit the dreams

oh my love

max honey...

he's hurting Magnus in his dreams...

im gonna cry

“You are not gonna kill bapak.”

He took another breath.

“You are not gonna kill bapak.”

Another one.

“You are not a kill bapak.”

He kept telling himself that.

oh my baby

max please honey you're not going to hurt him

He wasn’t historically great at talking about things anyway.

OOO THIS IS FROM RWRB

but like same

“Hey. So, I’ve been dreaming about killing my father,” Max could say. “Is that normal?”

no that's not normal

you've been through some serious fucking shit of course it's not normal

and yeah it seems weird but max you can't keep it bottled in

it is going to hurt so much worse

do...do other people dream about killing their parents...?

It was more like…It was as if the dream came from within himself.

From his own mind.

From his own heart.

yes that is how dreams work

normally

ayyy the ocean

max doing some good shit

HE GETS PURPLE WHEN SUNBURNT OMG

ELYAAS

And yeah he's right

people are shits

let's kill them im down

I keep on forgetting he has horns

it's a shock every time they are mentioned

LMAO MAX AND RAFE-

it fucking hurts because max keeps on going "Bapak's alive"

baby, please

bapak replied because he usually had no clue where anything was in their house.

NO, BECAUSE SAME

My aunt knows every detail about my house mainly because my brother keeps her updated

our old maid coming back after months: HEYY

my brother already on the phone with my aunt: YO SHE'S HERE

I would be living in the house and having no clue about shit

“Max,” dad groaned. “I’m sleeping.”

“No. You are on your phone.”

“I am both.”

I am gonna send this to my aunt and caption it "You"

THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT SHE DOES

His father groaned and got off the bed. “If it’s there when I check, I am locking you inside the closet.”

“That’s homophobic,” Max pointed out.

ALEC HUIIUCFDUIFUHHUDFVKHK

But then he had seen David in basketball shorts and…well, he supposed a basketball court wasn't the worst idea.

oh my...

AWWW THEM

THEY ARE JUST SO CUTE

“This is angelic discrimination,” Lexi countered.

YES IT IS

LET LEXI FLY

AWW CUDDLING PRIVLIGES

wait to malec know of the tattoo?

MAX JUST SIMPING OVER DAVID HSUSDCYYD

Chopin bestest

“Your demon baby is obsessed with you,” Max pointed out.

Because that's just a thing they said now.

cute

nooo, he left it in Paris?? :((

AHHH THEY ARE GOING SHOPPING

“We are just going shopping,” Max pointed out. “Why are you dressed like James Dean?”

like who?

anyway, David looking hella fine

max...you dont keep a wallet with you...?

how do you pay for shit-

oh right magic

hi random person

oh yeah the blood bending

max :((

I wanna hug him and never let him go

THAT OLD WARLOCK NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP

GO AWAY SHOO

max...whatever you wanna do with the power...be careful and be safe okay? ily and dont listen to others

oof he bent asmodeus' blood too?

noice

uh I mean-

DAVID OMG YOU GOT A CAR

“So, they got you a car?” Max grumbled. “Mine are trying to get me to go to therapy.”

you probably should

I wanna make tea but it is 2 57 am and i do not wanna risk waking anyone up

“I mean, portals are very cool,” Max cleared his throat. “But you can’t make out in the back seat of a portal.”

true so true my boy

LMAO MAX IS A HORNY LITTLE SHIT I ADORE HIM

“Chocolate and your fingers are like my favorite thing to have inside my mouth.”

IM GONNA SCREAM

he's gonna send the pic to Coraline...

<33

hi Coraline

FUCK

please kid dont-

he's not...

please

But this didn’t happen to other people though.

Not to shadowhunters – who only looked cool and sexy with their ‘tattoos’.

Not to faeries – who looked 'so pretty' in their 'costumes'.

fuck im going to cry

MAX YOU LISTEN TO ME

YOU LITTLE SHIT YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SCREW THIS MUNDANE I HATE KIDS IM GONNA PUNCH THE KID IN THE FACE

He had mastered the art of not giving a fuck.

But now…now he wasn’t so sure.

Now he felt self-conscious again.

Now he felt scared again.

Now it hurt.

Because this time, he wasn’t sure whether what the others said was actually wrong.

yeah...it fucking hurts

but we get through it right? it hurts and it takes time but we get to the other side

but the other side isn't fixed

it hurts fuck it really does

but max please baby

I love you

He didn’t have much energy for anything else. So, he laid down in bed and just…well, he did nothing.

that numbing feeling

my love, max take one of those no-nightmare potions

sleep makes it better but not sleep like this

so take a potion or spell or that shit

fuck im gonna cry that dream

baby...

max, angel please be okay

this sucks so much I dont...I cant see you go through shit like this...

alec is just very oblivious, isn't he?

dude, I am literally imagining a horror movie soundtrack playing

And he felt...He felt misplaced.

Like he wasn’t supposed to be there.

you really said: Imma hit this bitch so hard with this chapter

max you need an outlet

WRITE THIS SHIT DOWN FFS

David was the angel.

And then there was Max.

Son of a prince of hell – one that made of pure demon blood.

max you have the purest heart I have ever seen

dont...please dont

But nobody had told him that he’d have to do this shit over and over again.

He had assumed it was a one-time kinda thing.

But no.

When shit happened, the insecurities and anxieties came rushing up again.

And he was back where he started.

it's the same thing over and over again

and it sucks

it really does

you'll find yourself at point A so many times, when you think you're finally over this shit you'll find yourself back there again

and it's going to hurt like hell but my love we have to be strong

it's all we can do

pick ourselves back up and keep on walking

Until one day…Until one day, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore.

angel no

please don't...

even if...even if you do find yourself at that point, I...I hope you have the people and the courage to slowly get back up

because there is so much left to live for

even in times, it feels hopeless

AHJAHHSAXJHSDC MAX WALKING IN ON RAFE AND ANJALI

“I guess you don’t ruin everything,” Rafael chuckled as he sat down opposite him.

fuck

Rafael, I know you didn't mean it like that

“He is a goner for David,” Rafael told Anjali seriously.

arent we all?

“Max,” Rafael groaned. “Stop it, you demon!”

oh

oh max

these days god

it's good to cry

let yourself

“No one,” Max said. “Leviathan is my father. I’m an eldest curse. I…I’m a monster.”

no.

who your sperm donor is doesn't define you

and it never will

“Do you want to hurt people?” Rafael asked.

Max shook his head.

“Then there you go,” Rafael smiled.

THIS!!!

it's a choice to hurt people

“Because you are scared,” Rafael whispered. “Because you are stressed.”

!!!!!

this too shall pass

I feel like that is from somewhere but im not sure

“The shadow world does have a rich history of patricide,” Max mumbled.

“That’s not the kind of history we are going to be a part of, okay?” Rafael asked, holding his face. “Ours is the history of Lightwood-Banes. We don’t kill. We create. We don’t hurt. We love. Do you hear me?”

RAFAEL YES!!!!!

what-ifs are really scary

but here's the thing

we can either dwell on them and push ourselves deeper into the pool, or we can live our life one day at a time, one step at a time, and see what the future holds

what-ifs are terrifying, angel

but we cannot dwell on them too much

“You want me to tell bapak I have dreams about killing him?” Max asked incredulously. “Do you want him to kill me first?”

MAX HBJXYUHDCSUYKDSFCYUDF

im sure he won't do that...maybe

JKJK

About the possibility that Max might destroy his father’s legacy.

About the end of the Lightwood name.

this actually haunts my sleep

it's scary to think that one day, someone might unravel alec's work

it terrifies me

but here's the thing

it might happen, or it might not

for every bad person, there is a good person

and I know that there are going to be people who are always going to stand in the face of destruction and oppression

that gives me hope

He knew he won’t hurt anyone.

He knew he didn’t want to.

But the fact that he could if he wanted…It scared him.

The potential. The possibility.

It terrified him.

He wasn’t a saint. Max knew that.

maybe, yeah

so hold on to people who ground you, who keep you from going there

you know, immortal people

“Yeah,” Rafael said. “You're my brother. You’re the only person who is allowed to almost kill me.”

Max smiled at that. “And Selena.”

Rafael laughed. “And Selena.”

so true bestie

“Max,” Rafael said softly. “Listen to me. There are always going to be people who will call you things. The Clave is changing. I’m doing my best. But I need you to know there will be people out there who will always think of you as a curse just as they will always look at me as a criminal.”

yes

it's unfortunate but it's the truth

you cant hope to change everyone's hearts

some people... are just bad

LMAO ANJALI CANNOT COOK

“I’m used to people spontaneously sobbing in this house,” Anjali pointed out.

“Hey! That movie was fucking sad, okay!” Rafael argued.

“It was a documentary,” Anjali deadpanned. “About silk.”

“It’s called Silk Road! It’s not about actual silk!”

“You do cry a lot,” Max chuckled. “You once cried because bapak forgot your phone number.”

OMG THEM

THIS IS SO CUTE'

I am so Rafael in this situation

“You should,” Anjali said then. “There is nothing wrong with it.”

YES PREACH

“Oh,” Anjali said. “Do you want to kill him?”

“What?” Max blanched. “Of course not!”

“Great. Then don’t kill him,” she grinned. “Problem solved.”

“It is this ruthless efficiency that keeps my Clave intact,” Rafael chuckled.

I fall in love with her more every passing chapter

she's right though

RAGNOR'S BDAY

WHOOP WHOOP

wow everyone is drunk

AHAHHAHAH "Which one?" "Both"

I AM DEAD

MINAAA

oof yeah medicine is tough

you'll make it through im sure ❤️

You can procrastinate as much as you want because you had all the time in the world.

how do I become a warlock

actually, I love being busy

so I feel like I would get bored

I hate staying still

we dont even get much homework GIVE ME HOMEWORK PEOPLE I LIKE IT

im weird

aww Magnus is the one who got them drunk

MAGNUSSS

they are so cute I am going to cry

I forget max is tiny

and Magnus is giant

AW THEY ARE IN PERU

OH FINALLY YES TALK TO EACH OTHER

oh Magnus honey come here lemme hug you, I dont like seeing you in pain

“Because I wanted you to hate me,” Max confessed. “Because I thought I was going to die. And I thought…I thought it would be easier for you if you hated me.”

Max my love no

the thing is, he can't hate you

parents...well it's complicated with them isn't it

they cant hate you...no matter what you do

“Made me hate you?” bapak echoed. “I never hated you!”

“But I said all those-”

“It hurt me, yes. But it didn’t make me hate you,” bapak said softly. "I don't hate you."

im gonna cry someone hold me

these two just...

they are gonna be the ones left

“Why would I hate you?” bapak raised an eyebrow. “What did you do? Did you sell my clothes on eBay again?”

Max chuckled. “No. Also, for the record, Rafael was the one who brought all of them. So, your clothes never really left the apartment.”

Bapak affectionately rolled his eyes at that. “You crazy kids.”

istg this family is crazy

I love these bitches so much~

“You won’t hate me, right?” Max asked in a whisper, remembering his dream. “In a century or two…You won’t end up hating me?”

No. Never

Ah yes, the charango

the charango story is so fucking hilarious

THEY THREW A FUCKING FESTIVAL

aww he broke it

“I’m sorry,” Max said again. “I know I cause you a lot of trouble.”

same.

now I want to go and apologize to my parents

because I really dont make it easy

Max shook his head fondly. “What I meant was…People don’t fall in love with me the way they do with Rafael. I’m…I’m not easy to love. I know that. I don’t make it easy.”

dude, same

let's go sit in a corner together now

“When you came into our lives, Alec took you into his arms and made you his own. But I couldn’t do that. I struggled so much with you. Because you gave me something I never thought I could have. You gave me a family. You scared the shit out of me, Max. I was so scared of you. Never of who you are, but of who you turned me into. A father.”

“You are a good father,” Max said softly. “You know that, right?”

“Because of you,” he said gently. “Because of Rafael.”

Max smiled at that. He squeezed bapak’s hand gently.

“When I found you, I didn’t know how to love you. I didn’t know if I had it in me to love you. But then I got to know you. I fell in love with you slowly, day after day, every day a little bit more, but never any less. But you are right. You don’t make it easy. You don't make it easy to love you, Max. You’ve always been a challenge. But I like a good challenge. I like loving you.”

“I like loving you too,” Max whispered, his eyes tearing up.

“So, don’t ever think I will hate you,” the man said seriously. “Because I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to look at you with anything but love.”

omg

I am gonna cry oh my god

them

finally some good soup

“Because I know my son,” bapak whispered. “Max. You...You got rid of Asmodeus. You did that. For me. Because you wanted me to be safe. That’s the boy I raised. Whoever is in your dream, that’s not you. That’s not my bluebell.”

yes, max

angel you...I love you so much

yeah let's stay away from blood bending

“You can’t lose control of your magic, Max. Not really,” bapak said gently. “Everything a warlock does, it’s a choice. We must own up to those choices.”

“Okay,” Max whispered.

“Your magic is beautiful,” bapak smiled at him. “Treat it kindly. Be good to your magic.”

YES

EXACTLY YOU AMAZING LITTLE SHIT ILY SO MUCH

oh

oh baby

im gonna cry now bye

“I don’t know what to say to that,” bapak said honestly. “All I know is that however much it hurts; you won’t have to go through it alone. I’ll be there. I’m always going to be there.”

they are not going to be alone

it's a tiny comfort

grief becomes slightly easier when there are those around to share it with

The way he only swore when no one was around. The way he giggled when Max kissed his stomach. The way he fiddled with the Lightwood necklace when he was nervous. The way checked on his family before he went to sleep every night. The way he always gave a tiny piece of his food to Dorian Gray before he ate anything. The way he pushed back his hair with one hand. The way he smelled a book before he read it.

write it down

I am serious

“I want to remember everything,” Max said then. “I know…I know that’s like biologically impossible for my brain. But I don't care. Fuck biology. I want to remember. David deserves to be remembered.”

“Then remember him,” bapak said softly. “You do whatever it takes to remember your David.”

yes...remember him

“Max. There will be times when we don’t speak to each other. We might drift apart. Out of anger. Out of loneliness. For so many reasons. It’s a side effect of immortality. But whatever happens, remember that I love you. I will always love you.”

“Even if I may or may not have sold your white Versace shirt on eBay?” Max asked.

they will always find their way back

oh, max...

alec is just so fucking endearing like dude

I want to keep him in a bottle

When they went back home, dad was in the living room, folding laundry. Bapak threw himself at his husband.

“Take me to bed,” bapak whispered into the man’s shoulder.

AWWWW

THESE TWO

“Magic is for important things only,” Max huffed.

“Like turning Rafael’s white shirt into neon pink?” dad asked, holding it up.

“He insulted my hoodie!!!”

“I told Rafael,” dad grinned. “He said ‘jokes are on Max because I call pull this shit off.”

he totally can omg he's so hot

respectfully of course

ANJALI AND RAFAEL ARE BOTH SO FUCKING HOT I PANIC EVERY TIME-

oh yes finally alec isn't so oblivious

“But you can…you have eternity to talk with Magnus,” dad said, his eyes on the floor. “I don’t have that. If you are mad at me or something, you need to tell me now. I don’t want to lose a second of what we have over miscommunications and petty fights. Do you understand?”

alright you fuckers enough immortality talk

but alec bby ily so much and you are so right

Dad rolled his eyes and sat down next to him. “Why does that asshole keep haunting me even after death?”

LMAO RIGHT??

oh yes that beauty

“I know it was a stupid vision. I know it might never happen. But what Asmodeus showed me wasn’t a lie,” Max said. “If anyone ever hurts, bapak, I will destroy them.”

Dad didn’t say anything. He was just looking at Max intently.

“I know the Clave is important to you. I know you built all of this, and I know growth isn’t linear and people make mistakes and I know all of that. But I don’t care. I don’t care about the law or the covenant or the clave or any of that. I’m sorry, dad. But I don’t want to lie to you. No one gets to hurt bapak. If the nephilim ever fucking dare to try, I won’t hesitate to set the Clave on fire. I will burn it all down.”

max I will fucking help you

no one hurts Magnus Bane

I HAVE KNIVES

DON'T FUCING MESS WITH ME

YES ALEC YOU GO MY BOY

MY UNHINGED LITTLE SHIT

“When I am dead and gone, I don’t want people to remember all the laws I created or all the battles I fought in. I want them to remember how much I loved your father.”

I WILL LITERALLY SCREAM OMG YES YES YES

“Someone like Asmodeus would never understand how love could be more important than power,” his father said, his blue eyes burning. “So, fuck him. Asmodeus was wrong. You will not disappoint me. You will not break my heart. You will not destroy my life’s work. Magnus is my life. So, if anyone hurts your bapak, then go ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked in a whisper.

“A century from now or five centuries away, if anyone hurts Magnus, you will unleash hell on them,” his father said sternly. “Do you understand?”

Max looked at him, swallowing all the emotions. “What if it's the Clave? What if the law fails him? What if the Clave hurts bapak?”

“Burn it down, my baby. Burn it all down,” his father smiled. “You have my blessing.”

THE LAST LINE SIR-

that is so hot ngl

“Holy shit,” Max laughed. “I thought you were the sensible one in the family and but you are just…you are seriously unhinged, dad.”

Dad chuckled at that. “Where do you think you get it from? Leviathan? Pfft. It’s all me, bud.”

SEE??

THIS BITCH UNHINGED AS FUCK

aww a sea shell that's so cute

reminds me of vva

gasp

he's writing it down

yes David...he is wearing a suit

OH MY GOD WE FOUND THE THING THAT TURNS DAVID ON

oh my god, David-

it's always the quiet ones...

Thank god - and Magnus Bane - for portals.

I thank Magnus Bane every day

“I do not have a suit kink!” David chastised.

Max laughed. “Everything you did in the last hour contradicts that statement.”

NJXSHUICDSUICDUIDF

that sums up me right now

oh baby...

“I know…I know I am a piece of shit,” Max said, wiping his tears with his elbow. “But I am not a bad person. I’m not a bad person, David.”

you're not. you're not a bad person, angel

“If you were a bad person, I wouldn’t let you inside my heart,” David said. “I keep you there, Max. I keep you inside my heart. You earned the right to be there.”

im gonna fucking cry

“Listen to me, Max. I know people say we shouldn’t listen to what others think of us. But that’s easier said than done. I know how hard it is to drown out all that noise. Sometimes it feels like it’s all you can hear.”

“Yeah,” Max gave a shaky nod.

“When you feel that way, come back to me,” David whispered. “Come back to my voice. I will help you remember who you are. For as long as I am there, I will help you remember.”

“Help me remember,” Max said, resting his forehead against David’s now. “Tell me. Please.”

“You are the boy who ran to hell to save his love. You are the boy who gathered the entire shadow world. You found out you have the power of a prince. The power to destroy realms. But the first thing you did was march into hell and destroy the demon who has been hurting your father. That’s who you are. Remember that boy. That’s you. A person who is selfless. A person who fights. A person who loves. Max. Remember. You are a good person.”

Max clutched David tightly. He kissed the shadowhunter’s shoulder.

“And no matter what happens, you will always be the boy who passed out when he saw me naked for the first time.”

THIS WHOLE THING THEIR LOVE

this is so fucking cute

I am gonna miss Max so fucking much I am about to cry. It is also 4 40 am...gonna try and get 2 hours of sleep gn <3

BRO.

This reaction just made realise you, max and I have a lot in common.

I think the three of us should sit down (preferably at the beach) and talk about this.

You in??????

[castiel-kline]

happy birthday @angelfishofthelord !!!

here’s Cas being Old and talking about dinosaurs to hopefully make you smile <3

---

“Hey, there you are!”

Castiel is tucked in a corner of the library when Dean’s voice startles him out of the book he’s reading. He stands up, a million things that could have gone wrong racing through his imagination at top speed.

“Dean. Is everything alright?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, no worries. Me, Sam and Jack are gonna watch Jurassic Park. You wanna join us?”

Castiel wrinkles his nose. He’s seen stills from that movie, and those plus the references Dean has made to it over the years make it sound like an inaccuracy-riddled insult to the beautiful creatures he once watched over.

But Cas has never been one to refuse time with his family, so he follows Dean through the bunker’s halls and takes a seat next to Jack on the sofa.

Sam passes him a bowl of popcorn.

“You made it!” he says, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. It’s… nice.

“Of course,” Castiel says, passing the popcorn to Jack’s eager hands and returning the boy’s smile. He’ll enjoy it more than Cas will. He cares much more about the people than the snacks or the film, anyway.

He takes in Sam’s easy smile again, and the calm in Dean’s posture where he stands preparing the DVD. Even Jack looks toward the blank television screen in excited anticipation, despite having learned by now not to trust Dean’s taste in cinema. Jack much preferred getting to explore films on his own, and Castiel was always thrilled to be included in his late night Netflix adventures.

He clears his throat, unsure why he’s so nervous. He does like dinosaurs, after all. “So… you like this movie, right?”

“Hell yeah we do,” Dean says. “Sam and I watched it in theaters when it first came out. He wouldn’t shut up about velociraptors for months.”

“I was ten,” Sam protests, pink creeping across his cheeks. “Besides, it wasn’t even velociraptors. It was... dilophosaurus.” He’d trailed off into a barely audible mumble in his embarrassment, but it was still loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Oh, that’s right!” he laughs, eyes alight with the delighted gleam of a sibling collecting ammunition to tease with. “He’d sit in the library for hours searching for any mention of the damn thing. I always said he’d be better off with a T. Rex obsession like a normal kid, but no-o.”

Castiel leans over, nodding in Sam’s direction. “Well, I think dilophosaurus is a very good choice of favorite dinosaur.”

Sam looks surprised, and Jack, who’d been watching the conversation like a tennis match, looks to Cas directly.

“You know about dinosaurs?”

Castiel frowns, confused. “Yeah, of course I do.”

They’re cut off by Dean, who keeps talking as he’s sitting down on Jack’s other side with the remote control.

“Could’ve sworn we watched this one with you before, Cas. When we found it at that movie rental place in Minnesota, after that ghoul hunt?”

“We would’ve,” says Sam, tone caked in playful bitterness. “But you wanted to get Mars Attacks instead, remember?”

Dean looks a bit sheepish. “Hey, sometimes you need a good B movie after a day of ganking monsters. Today, though, we gotta get the kid another check off the list of Spielberg must-sees, right? Cas, too. We’ve waited long enough as is.”

Castiel has just enough time to hope once more that this movie is of a better quality than many of Dean’s other favorites, and then his thoughts are swept away by the opening sequence lighting up the television.

---

Jack enjoyed the movie immensely. He liked the scares and the way it made his heart beat faster. He liked the way Dr. Grant was so protective of the kids. Most of all, of course, he liked the dinosaurs.

He’d found a book about them the other day when he was cleaning in the library with Sam, and when Dean overheard their conversation he immediately suggested this movie.

Jack thought Cas would be just as interested in dinosaurs as he was, but the angel spent the whole movie with a frown on his face and a furrow between his eyes.

As the brothers stand up, Dean to turn on the lights and Sam to collect the empty snack bowls, Jack nudges Cas’ arm with his elbow.

“Are you okay?”

Cas meets Jack’s gaze with gentle eyes.

“I’m fine. I- I thought that the ending was a bit sad.”

Jack frowns. “How was it sad? Almost everyone got off the island.”

“That’s not…” Cas shakes his head, and takes a moment to compose himself before giving Jack a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, Jack. It just made me remember when the dinosaurs died.”

Shocked silence falls upon the room like a fog. Jack knows he’s gaping in disbelief, and feels Sam and Dean doing the same.

Cas glances around, taking in everyone’s surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Dean says. “Did you… are you…”

“Were you really there when the dinosaurs died?” Sam manages, sounding strained.

Cas answers slowly, eyes narrowed. “Yes? It was very sad, but it was a long time ago. I’ve had time to mourn.”

“But you were there!” Dean repeats, dumbfounded. Cas continues staring.

“Yes, Dean, I was there.”

“I mean, what- what was it like?” Sam asks, wonder in his eyes.

“Well, um. It was hot. And fiery.”

“It was hot and fiery,” Dean says, broken record. “Wow.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you… why is this such a surprise? I thought the dinosaurs’ extinction was common knowledge.”

“Yeah, but talking to someone who saw it is… it’s amazing,” Sam says. If he wasn’t holding the butter-greased popcorn bowls, Jack is sure he would be gesturing every which way. “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”

Cas blinks. “I didn’t know that you were interested. I thought if you wanted to know, you’d just ask me.”

“Dude. We didn’t know we could ask! I mean, we knew you were older than the pyramids, but the dinosaurs? That’s, what, fifty million years?”

“Sixty-five,” chime Sam and Jack, in unison.

“Wait a minute, how old do you think I am?”

That gives them pause. Jack exchanges hopeless glances with Sam and Dean, the three of them clambering for any exact number in the recesses of their minds. Jack draws a blank, both because Cas doesn’t really talk about his past and because time is a little twisted for him to begin with.

He knows he’s almost two, and that two years is not a long time, but to Jack it feels like forever.

He knows his mother was thirty-nine when she died, and he knows Sam and Dean are hovering somewhere near forty. Cas has lived millions of years, and though Jack can’t quite wrap his mind around that vast length of time, he knows that makes Cas near eternal. Like Jack’s supposed to grow up to be.

Oddly, it’s a comforting thought.

“How old are you?” He asks it to put an end to the silence, and because he’s realized he really wants to know the answer.

Cas hesitates, brow creasing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The first thing I really remember is the tiktaalik, so I suppose that makes me…”

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes. He must know what the tiktaalik is, Jack thinks. He’ll have to ask about it later.

“Three and a half billion. Approximately,” Castiel finishes.

Jack can almost hear Dean’s jaw hit the floor.

“That old, huh?” Dean asks. His voice is strained, and he sounds faint.

“I might be closer to four billion, actually,” Cas muses.

“Okay, whoa,” Sam interjects, before Dean’s brain melts entirely. “That’s… that’s really impressive, Cas.”

“I- really?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean manages. But Cas still doesn’t look convinced, so Jack speaks up.

“You’re prehistoric!” he says. “I think that’s really special.”

Cas takes a long moment to respond, inexplicably looking younger as he processes their praise. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders- like for the first time in eons he feels like the years behind him, drenched in blood and pain and regret as they are, can be a gift rather than a curse.

Sam and Dean clap Castiel on the shoulder and take their leave from the room, the elder brother murmuring something about “antique angels” as they go.

Jack steps closer to Cas, clearing his throat.

“I, um. I found a book about dinosaurs the other day. Dean said that this movie would be educational, but… I was wondering if you could tell me about them? I don’t think I learned very much.”

“I would be happy to.” Cas smiles, reaching out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder. “This film wasn’t very accurate, anyway.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, for one thing, most of those dinosaurs didn’t even live during the same millennium. And they weren’t nearly so lizard-like. They had feathers.”

Jack responds in kind, whispering conspiratorially: “Like birds?”

“Sort of. Come on, I’ll draw some for you.”

Jack follows his father out of the room, smiling from ear to ear. Though the full scope of Castiel’s age remains far beyond his comprehension, Jack thinks it’s incredible. With all those years behind him, it’s no wonder that Cas is such a good parent.

Time is a teacher, and Cas has had a long life in which to learn. He has so much wisdom to share- and it’s not all about the dinosaurs, not because of the things he’s seen or the battles he’s won.

No, Castiel shines brighter than the most beautiful of stars. It’s a brilliance that comes from the inside out, forged through fire and pain and a heart stronger than diamond no matter how many times it’s broken.

Castiel shines with four billion years of love.

[druigsfavwitch]

Flower Girl- Neville Longbottom x Reader

requested: yes, by me, because i would die for neville

summary: neville just can't seem to talk to the flower girl who loves quidditch

pairing: neville longbottom x POC! hufflepuff! reader

warning: Draco being and an ass, some language, neville being a sweetheart, fluff

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

Neville was a lot of things: shy, kind and obsessed with plants. He also has a thing for herbology. He loves anything that has to do with plants. Plants are just his thing.

But  another thing he likes is this girl in almost all of his classes. She was a beautiful olive skinned girl. She has gorgeous, shoulder length curly hair that was a dark brown that paired well with her forest green eyes. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. That was a fact. Except for his mother, of course, but this girl....she was different.

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

It was lunch. He was sitting next to Dean and Seamus, hearing them talk about some random stuff like potions or harry. Like always. He looked around and saw the girl. Her name was y/n. She was walking through the great hall, obviously very distracted with making a flower crown with the sunflowers in her hand. She even had her tongue out in concentration. She was walking fairly normal. But unfortunately, she wasn't looking where she was going. She walked right into the back of someone. She grunted and looked up at who she bumped into and her world stopped. She had bumped into Draco Malfoy.

Draco turned around and made a stank face. "Well, if it isn't a hufflepuff. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be kissing the ground?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed. Y/n rolled her eyes. " Leave me alone, Malfoy." She muttered. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle and smirked. "What were you doing, you hufflepuff?" He looked down to where she had dropped her flower crown. He picked up the crown and looked at it. He smirked and showed it to her. "This yours?" He smirked. Y/n sighed and looked at him. "Please, just give my flower crown and leave me alone." He laughed again. "No, I believe  this is more fun." He looked at the flower crown in his hand again and crushed it. Y/n gasped, her eyes already starting to water. She tried to say something, but she couldn't find the words. She gave up and ran out of the great hall. Draco and his friends were laughing, obviously thinking that it was funny. Neville got up and ran after her. He tried to find her, thinking of all the places she loves that's she's mentioned to him. The quidditch pitch. But first, he had to make a stop

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

He ran to the quidditch pitch.  He looked around and saw her sitting in the hufflepuff section. He could see that she was visibly upset. He walked over. "H-Hey y/n. I saw what Draco d-did." She nodded. " Yea. Those are my favorite flowers" Neville smiled at her. "T-They're mine too. Did you know that they originate from eastern Britain and that they were brought over to help with medicines." He looked at her and sighed. "Sorry, i-i get caught up some times. I know people don't like to hear me talk." She smiled at him. "No, i like it. It's like when i talk  about quidditch. Or flowers." Neville smiled. "Um, I wanted to give this to you, i stopped by the greenhouse on the way here." He pulled out a flower crown made of sunflowers from his bag. "Professor Sprout said I owe her big time." Y/n gasped. "Neville, thank you, so much." She pulled I'm into a hug and started tearing up. "No one has ever done that for me before. I owe you." Neville rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't. It's ok." She looked at him. "No, I do. Come to Hogsmeade with me?" Neville's eyes widened. "Um, y-yes." Y/n smiled, her forest green eyes shining against her skin. "Thank you, Neville. Really." She kissed his cheek. He was frozen for a second then gently placed the flower crown on her head. Man, was he smitten for the flower girl.

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

[a-simple-imagine]

Look Pretty

Requested by anonymous: “Would you please write something with Hermione x reader where they are at slug horns party and the reader is trying to help Hermione escape Cormac and the two are dancing around their feelings for each other or something?”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4k

A/N - I’m not sure how i feel about this one tbh but I hope you enjoy it

You had never been one for parties; large social gatherings where people just stood around and talked? What exactly was fun about that. You'd much rather spend your evening in the common room but alas you find yourself stood before a full-length mirror inspecting your outfit for any imperfections. It was considered a privilege to be invited to Slughorn's Christmas party; it was only for esteemed guests and high achieving students. Each student was also supposed to bring a date; this could be anyone the student saw fit. High achiever or not. After some convincing from Hermione, you had agreed to attend the party but now your nerves had you feeling like you could throw up. Outfit number five was beginning to look worse by the second and you wanted nothing more than to just snuggle up in your bed. Y/E/C eyes stare back at you and a defeated sigh slips past your lips. How you wished Ginny or Hermione were here to fight your doubts with their uplifting compliments. Maybe you should change? The first outfit you tried on had been nice.

"How much longer are you going to be?" An impatient Harry Potter calls out to you; it was surprising that his voice carried so well from the common room. Then again, it was rather quiet this evening. With one final glance over your chosen items of clothing, you reluctantly commit to outfit number 5. With a quick spray of something flowery as a finishing touch, you descend the stairs to join your fellow wizard.

"Calm down, Harry. I didn't know you were in such a rush."

"I'm not," He turns around just as you reach the bottom step, his smile beginning to fade. "I just never expected you to take so long- you look nice."

"Really?" You look over yourself with a grimace. It didn't feel nice. "I'm not too sure I like it anymore. Maybe I should have worn something else."

"I honestly think you look lovely," He assures you with the kindest of smiles. Such a genuine boy, you have no reason to doubt him.

"Then thank you," It was hard not to feel a little embarrassed. "You look... rather dashing yourself, Mr. Potter," His dress robes were nothing to write home about but they suited him well; sleek black paired with a reddish shirt and a black bow tie.

"Shall we head out?" Harry holds out his arm in offering to which you gladly accept. Looping your arm through his before leaving the Gryffindor common room together.

It was a pleasant evening as the two of you wandered through the corridors. The quiet corridors a stark contrast to the normal hustle and bustle of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. You rather liked how peaceful it seemed. The looks of strangers, on the other hand, you didn't appreciate. Don't these students have better things to do?

"So who did you end up inviting to the party?" Harry asks, relieving you of your increasing self-consciousness that came with the silence.

"No one," Your first choice hadn't been available so why bother with another. It just seemed like an unnecessary task. "Everyone had dates already- Who did you ask?"

You knew whoever it was they were just a substitute for who he really wanted to go with. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have agreed to let you tag along. "Luna,"

"Loony Lovegood?" It was a nickname that often drifted around the castle for the unique Ravenclaw. And not always with the nicest intentions but she welcomed it like it wasn't supposed to be an insult which you found rather intriguing. "interesting choice."

"I wasn't sure who to ask, honestly." He defends his choice. Harry Potter was the chosen one, he could have invited just about any girl to this party and they probably would have said yes. Not to mention that you had overheard that Romilda Vane was hoping he would ask her. She's basically obsessed with him. "And she's my friend so why not?"

"Oh it wasn't an insult- I actually adore how weird she is," Perhaps Harry had been wise to bring his eccentric friend; she'd surely liven up any dull party with her unique tales. "She's like the perfect dinner guest."

You look to him from the corner of your eye wondering what exactly he is thinking. You probably would have asked him if he hadn't already arranged to go with Luna. "You should have just asked Hermione," Harry says after a moment bringing a sour taste to your mouth. Your relationship with Hermione could be easily summed up in one word; Complicated. She was one of your best friends and you wouldn't change that for the world but you also couldn't deny that you had begun harbouring feelings for her as well. "She would have said yes."

With a heavy sigh, you let your arm drop from around his. From the moment you heard about the Christmas party, you had been under the assumption that you'd go with Hermione But when the time came to actually ask her, Harry informed you that she had a date already. Which was fine. She was allowed to go with whomever she likes. "How do you know?"

You hadn't expected to sound so bitter but it couldn't be helped. His shoulder bumps against yours and you weren't sure if it was intentional or not. "Call it a feeling."

"You know what potter? I don't remember asking for your opinion," you huff defensively, storming off just a few steps ahead. "You can't talk anyway- why isn't Ginny your date tonight?"

"Why would Ginny be my date?" You have to stop yourself from laughing. He couldn't be serious. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that he had a thing for the Weasley girl and honestly who could blame him; Ginny was a talented young witch, very smart and beautiful.

"It doesn't take a genius to work out you have a thing for her." You continue with a roll of your eyes. "I know it. Hermione and Ron know it. Everyone knows it- even slug club thanks to you making a fool of yourself during that dinner party."

"I didn't make a fool of myself."

"You did though," You chuckle, thinking back to the night in question. It was a slug club dinner party and Ginny had shown up late. She may as well not have come at all considering you were eating dessert by the time she arrived. Hermione suggested it was because of Dean and you wouldn't be surprised if that was true. "You basically leapt out of the chair, Harry. It was really awkward to watch."

"I was just being polite," You highly doubted that. "And she is with Dean anyway so I suspect they'll be attending together."

"I guess... Dean's cute but Hermione says they're always fighting," Extra emphasis on the always. It wasn't really any of your business but as a close personal friend to the youngest Weasley, it was hard not to get involved. "You two, however," you glance towards the chosen one in all his glory. You come to a stop before him, adjusting his crooked tie so it sat perfectly straight. "Would make quite the pair."

All talks of crushes were lost among the wind as you rounded the corner almost crashing into the young Ravenclaw that stood waiting patiently. Catching yourself before the collision, you take a few steps back. "Hey Luna," Her outfit could not scream Luna Lovegood more if it tried; it was silver and reflective. "Don't you look... shiny."

"Thank you," Had you meant that as a compliment? You weren't too sure but she took it as one. Falling behind, you listen to Luna’s ramblings during the short walk left to Slughorn's office. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings which resembled a tent. There were way too many people here for your liking which made it awfully hot and stuffy. You almost instantly found yourself alone within the crowd feeling terribly awkward.

When with friends like Harry, Ron and Hermione, you could talk forever given half the chance. But being put into a situation surrounded by complete strangers and you'd freeze up; it was hard talking to people you either didn't know at all or only saw in passing. Hiding away in the corner of the room, you search the room for someone you knew. You spotted Neville walking around offering drinks to the guest from his silver Tray. Ginny was halfway through a conversation with Dean; thankfully she seemed to be smiling. Meanwhile, Snape was looking very bored as Slughorn drones on about one thing or another. You never expected to see Snape here but apparently he had been a past member of the Slug Club. No surprise there considering he went on to teach potions. After what felt like a lifetime of standing awkwardly on the sidelines, you finally spotted Mr. Potter just outside the makeshift walls. "I told you not to leave me alone with these people," You whisper-yell as you push the fabric aside. Harry seems surprised by your sudden interruption but all attention has turned to his companion. It was none other than Hermione Granger in a little pink dress; she looked beautiful even as she shoved something into her mouth. "What are you two doing?"

"Hermione is hiding from Cormac," Harry answers, signalling towards the other girl with a flick of his wrist.

"McLaggen? That's who you came with?" Cormac McLaggen, in your less than favourable opinion, was as sleazy as they come. He had shown interest in Hermione but she had never shown any in return. So why had she chosen him over you?

"I didn't have a lot of other options," you share a look with Harry who looked almost sympathetic towards the situation. He was the only one who knew that you had planned to ask her and was also the one to crush your dreams. "Oh god, he's coming over here," She quickly reaches for your hand which brings heat rushing to your cheeks. "Come with me,"

Following her lead, you crouch down and allow her to drag you back into the crowd leaving Harry to deal with McLaggen. "Why are you here with him if you don't even like him?"

"Because he actually asked me." Her words felt like they were directed at you but maybe you were just trying to make something out of nothing. You wanted to tell her that you had planned to ask her from the start but you don't. Now safely on the other side of the room, her hands slip away from yours. "But he's so bothersome. I don't think I can put up with it much longer."

It was her fault but again you keep that to yourself. "Why did you drag me along? I'm not trying to avoid him."

"As a distraction so look pretty." Look pretty? Before you can ask what exactly she meant by that, her hands are against your arms, spinning you around quickly to face a rather irritated McLaggen. This didn't feel right but it was too late to pretend you hadn't seen him now.

"What am I supposed to say?" Your whispers for advice are ignored or more accurately unheard. This conversation was destined to be very awkward.

"Where'd she run off to now?" He comes to a stop before you, running his hand through his dusty blonde hair.

"Who?" He had obviously meant Hermione. But it seemed you were running on autopilot as the word drifted off your lips before you even had a chance to think. He probably thought you were rather idiotic now but then again did you care what this slimeball thought about you?

"Your friend?"

You swallow a lump in your throat. Guess the plan now was to continue playing dumb in hopes of him giving up. With your bottom lip wedged between your teeth, you pause in thought for just a moment. "You mean Harry?"

"I'm obviously talking about Granger? She was just with you?"

"Was she?" Surveying the room, you pretend to search for the girl in question. Luckily enough she was nowhere to be found so your act must look rather convincing.

"So where did she go?"

"Who?" Fighting back a smile, your attention returns to McLaggen; his growing annoyance was evident in the creases forming across his forehead. If it had been anyone else, you'd probably feel bad for them. Although, you will admit that it was rather harsh on Hermione's part to be leading him on like this instead of making her intentions clear.

"Hermione Granger?"

Your shoulders rise in a quick shrug. "I don't know what to tell ya mate."

"Nevermind- I'll find her myself." With a sharp spin, he morphs back into the crowd finally leaving you in peace. You let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding as the pressure to cover had been elevated.

"So where is Hermione," This time the source was none other than Harry Potter; who was now standing by your side watching the party unfold. Neville seemed to have bumped into someone who was now causing quite the stir.

"No clue, she ran off somewhere," Stopping a waiter as they pass by, you take a small glass off his silver tray. The contents were golden yellow and you weren't quite sure what it was exactly.

"I don't understand why she agreed to come with him anyway." Sure, he had asked her but that didn't mean she was required to say yes. That had been her own choice which no longer made sense considering she was actively running away from him.

"Who knows," Harry muses aloud. "maybe it's because Cormac doesn't try to hide his interest in her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You look to him with a scowl. You had never tried to hide your feelings for Hermione but the same could be said about trying to show them. It wasn't exactly something you went around announcing to everyone.

"Nothing," He offers you a flash of a smile as he slinks away to save himself from the upcoming argument. "If you'll excuse me."

Harry scurries away leaving you alone at the party once more. It seemed only fitting for you to take your leave now and head back to the dorms; you hadn't wanted to come in the first place. Plus you didn't feel like having to deal with Hermione and Cormac anymore. The commotion drew your attention for a moment but with a heavy sigh, you head for the exit. Why on earth would Draco Malfoy of all people gate crash such a lame party?

"Thank you," Remnants of your drink now spilt down your chin as you coughed in surprise. Hermione Granger has suddenly appeared once again bringing with her an aura of sweetness.

"Don't- do that," you swat her arm playfully, wiping away your flavoured drool. "You- almost- killed me."

"You're being a little dramatic," a gentle smile paired well with a roll of her eyes. "What did you tell him?"

"Cormac? I decided to play dumb and act like I had no clue."

"Must have been rather easy for you then," You raise a brow; was that a joke?  

"You do realise that agreeing to be his date, has probably given him the wrong idea?" You muse, placing the now empty glass down. It was feeling sticky between your fingertips, "And as his date, you shouldn't be running away from him. It's awfully rude, miss Granger."

"I had to bring someone," Hermione looked away from you, a heavy sigh drifting into the crowd. It seemed whatever had happened regarding Draco had sorted itself out. "And he just so happened to ask me."

"You can't avoid him forever," You wonder where the man in question has wandered off to. He couldn't have gone far. Catching Luna Lovegood's gaze for the first time since arriving, she gave you a little wave.

"That's part of the problem."

"Maybe you shouldn't have come with him in the first place, Hermione." You insist sharply, glancing back at her. "You always had other options."

Had you not spoken about the party beforehand than perhaps you wouldn't be filled with such bitterness.

"I would have said yes," Hermonie gently takes your hand in hers. Her thumb dancing delicately over the back of your hand; your entire body seemingly relaxes. "If you asked me, I mean."

Her words felt invasive; as if she had somehow managed to read your mind. Recoiling from her touch, you step away. Crashing into a rather tall lady with deep dark brown hair. She shoots you a less than favourable look before moving on. "Who said I even wanted to ask you?"

"Harry," Seems Mr. Potter had decided to try and play Cupid where he wasn't wanted. You make a mental note to talk to him about it later.

"You could have asked me," you throwback sourly. "Instead you chose McLaggen- someone you don't even like," A harsher tone but you remain quiet in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Heading for the exit, Hermione trails after you like a little lost puppy. Why couldn't she just leave you alone? "Maybe next time you should stop playing games."

"Who did you come with?" Hermione asks softly. It's almost drowned out among the noise. 

"No one." Your head drops. "I thought about asking Ron but he was busy with Lavender." The sound of the party grew distant as you stepped into the empty hallway. "Stop following me 'mione, go back to the party."

"I'd rather stick with you," Hermione brushes up beside you, falling in line. It was cooler out here and you were grateful for it.

"What about McLaggen?"

"All the more reason to leave," An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you as you head back to the dorms. You never realised how eerie this place was when it wasn't full of students.

"Did you know Lovegood sleepwalks?" A harmless question to fill the void. "So she sleeps with shoes on although I think slippers would be the smarter choice."

"What?"

"She's an odd one," you smile softly at her. "But interesting,"

Speak of the devil, Miss Lovegood rushes past the two of you. Her dress twinkling in the moonlight.

"Heading back too, Luna?" You call out bringing her to a stop. The blonde turns back to the two of you.

"I am," She nods offering up a tiny smile as she waits for you to catch up. If it wasn't already awkward before it definitely was now. Nobody was speaking to each other so it was just like some weird silent adventure back to the dorms.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Luna?"

"It was alright," The blonde responds quietly. "I did manage to lose Harry a lot."

"Typical Potter," you shake your head in disapproval. "I was thinking..." You bump your shoulder against Luna's. "we should have tea together sometime?"

"Tea?" She muses out loud, "That sounds lovely."

"Great. I will send you an owl," Then Luna just up and turns down the corridor to your right. That wasn't the way to the Ravenclaw common room but maybe she wasn't heading back? With a little wave, you watch her skip away.

"You can be quite forward it seems,"

"What?" Your brows furrow.

"I just don't understand why you didn't ask me? We could have gone as friends?"

"I don't see why you're so mad at me when you're the one who had a date," you fight back.

"You're so oblivious,"

"Enlighten me then,"

The girl comes to an abrupt stop making you slow down. Turning to face Hermione, she seems unable to meet your gaze. "I wanted to ask you but I heard that Zabini was going to,"

"Zabini?" Never, in a million years, would you have thought that Blaise Zabini was interested in you. It was not a bad thing; Blaise was very cool and mysterious but also like too cool for you. Way too cool. "I wonder why he didn't."

"You would have said yes?"

"Better than going alone." You shrug a little.

"There you go then," Hermione huffs, storming past. Was she angry at you for considering another date when she herself attended the party with someone else? "Next time you need a date, go with him."

"Passive-aggressive much,"

"Forget I said anything,"

It was a silent walk back to the common room other than the moment Hermione had to say the password for you to get inside. The problem now was that you happened to share a dorm room with Hermione so there was no way to escape her judgemental eyes. After getting changed, you decided it's best to just retire for the night.

"I would have liked to have attended with you this evening had you actually asked me," Hermione expresses quietly. "When you didn't, I made other arrangements."

"I don't understand why I have to be the one to ask?" You respond. "You're perfectly capable of doing it. And besides, you didn't have to go with McLaggen, Hermione. That was a choice so you clearly didn't want to go with me that badly."

"You can't be serious," She groans loudly. "Why should I have to go dateless because you can't be bothered to ask me unless you don't have any better options."

"That's not even accurate," you growl back. "You're just making stuff up now."

"Will you two shut up," Ginny Weasley interrupts, leaning against the doorway. 

Heels held in her hands suggesting she had also just returned. "Everyone can hear you arguing."

"It's-" Ginny glares at you; shutting you up. Falling against your bed, Hermione sits upon her own as the youngest Weasley enters the room. "It's not fair that you insist on playing games and then get mad at me."

"It's not fair that you're mad at me because I found another date when you didn't ask me,"

Ginny sighed loudly. "Hermione. She didn't ask you because by the time she worked up the courage you already had a date. She was always going to ask you, she just thought you'd wait for her." Then her eyes fall to you, she looks very unimpressed. "Hermione on the other hand, heard you'd be attending with Zabini and so she was planning to make you jealous by going with McLaggen okay? you both like each other so either sort this out and go to bed or go argue somewhere else."

Ginny leaves you alone with Hermione and neither of you seems to know what to say. You were just a little surprised she would go out of her way to make you jealous, it seemed a little childish which wasn't her style. "Who knew Ginny could be so scary?"

The two of you share a smile which transforms into gentle and very quiet laughter. "You were scared to ask me?"

"I wouldn't say scared just... I didn't know if I had to ask officially. I kinda just expected us to go together but then Harry said you had a date." You shrug, fiddling with your hands. "You tried to make me jealous?"

"Don't," Hermione buried her face in her hands. How sweet she was. "I'm embarrassed enough."

"I still think you should have asked me," you lay down against your bed, snuggling against the sheets. "But I'll make you a deal. Next time I need a date, we shall go together okay? No matter what it is, you will always be my first choice."

"Alright, deal," you try to look at her but it's hard from your position. Listening as she climbed into her bed and switches off the light.

"You looked really pretty tonight."

"Thank you," she mumbles. "As did you."