#in the age of spn n shit. having a good ending that makes sense for ur characters is so rare and this show understood its characters

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Business As Usual

Criminal Minds Rockstar AU! 

Word Count: ~3890

Warnings: Implications of offscreen shenanigans, Reid and JJ being devious little shits, but nothing too wild. 

A/N: Why does this exist? Fuck if I know! Was it a fucking blast to write? Fuck yes it was! The headcanon popped into my brain fully-formed while I was driving home from work one day, @stunudo​ and @rockhoochie​ encouraged me, and here I am. This will, at some point, be tied into the SPN rockstar au that I’ve been dicking around with, but for now it’s just the BAU doing their thing! 

Business As Usual

Talking Family and Feminism With Rock’s Hottest New Band

-

There are already fans lining up outside Terminal 5 when I arrive in the afternoon. It’s the first time Business As Usual will be playing in New York since the release of their sophomore album, Wheels Up, which has become the runaway surprise hit of the summer, largely thanks to the success of the first single, “Revelations.” They’ve gone from critically praised indie darlings to the brink of mainstream stardom, seemingly overnight. 

Band manager David Rossi, for one, isn’t surprised at the sudden attention. 

Rossi is an industry vet with almost four decades of experience under his belt. He’d been retired for a couple years when a friend dragged him out to see B.A.U. playing in a dive bar. He says that within two songs, he knew “the kids,” as he calls them, would be huge. By the end of the show, he was ready to come out of retirement if they’d let him manage them. 

With attention comes scrutiny, and for most bands, the rumors would be flying already. However, B.A.U. definitely isn’t most bands; there are no whispers of groupies, crazy parties, or other rockstar antics here. When you meet them face to face, that reputation makes perfect sense. They’re quiet and quirky, and they seem like five of the unlikeliest rock stars in modern music. 

-

“Very nice to meet you, Paul,” Rossi says, turning on the charm. This one’s gonna be a piece of cake. “Now. Before we get any further, just a couple things.” 

He gives the reporter his best fuck with my kids and I will fuck you up look and makes sure the guy looks suitably intimidated before he continues. 

“First, don’t believe half of what comes out of Penelope’s mouth, at least not until you confirm with somebody else. She likes to see what ridiculous things journalists will print.” This is, obviously, a lie, but they’ve found it’s the best way to deal with Penelope’s inability to keep anything private. “Trust me. You listen to her, you’ll end up with egg on your face.” 

“No problem,” Paul says obediently. 

“Second, you do not mention Reid’s stalker. Is that clear?” 

Paul nods, but Rossi waits for a moment, until he starts wilting slightly under the stare.

“I understand,” he says, nodding emphatically, and Rossi gives him a clap on the shoulder and a big smile. 

“Wonderful. Other than that, we’re an open book. Come in, they’re just getting ready for soundcheck. Let’s get you something to drink.” 

-

Officially, the band is made up of Emily Prentiss (vocals), Derek Morgan (guitar), Jennifer “JJ” Jareau (bass), Spencer Reid (keys), and Aaron Hotchner (drums). At first glance, they don’t look like they have anything in common; most bands tend to dress in a similar style and come from similar musical backgrounds, but these five couldn’t be more different. Reid, for example, was a classical piano prodigy who graduated from Berklee at the age of seventeen, and has a tendency to dress like an absentminded professor, while Prentiss, with her Siouxsie Sioux eyeliner, dropped out of prep school to tour with a riot-girl band. 

Producer and sound tech Penelope Garcia is the unofficial sixth member of the band, and they all credit her with melding their various eclectic songwriting styles into one distinctive, experimental sound. 

Garcia is an anomaly in a male-dominated field, possibly even more so than Prentiss and Jareau, but instead of trying to blend in or prove that she’s tough enough to fit in with the rest of the crew, she makes a point to stand out. During sound check, she’s wearing a wildly colorful dress and pink heels, which match the pink streaks in her hair and her thick pink-framed glasses. When I ask whether she deals with sexism in the music industry, she just laughs. 

 “Of course there are jerks,” she says, shrugging. “There are always going to be jerks. But I know I’m good at what I do, and my band knows I’m good at what I do, and that’s what matters.” 

“And the other women? Do they get heckled or catcalled a lot?” 

“The only person who’s allowed to objectify my band is me,” Garcia says cheerfully, and then makes a face. “Kidding! I would never.”  

-

“Nicely done on that solo, hot stuff, you play that guitar almost as well as you fill out those jeans,” Penelope says into the dead mic. It goes directly to the band’s in-ear monitors, so nobody else can hear. Derek laughs and the rest of the band roll their eyes.

When they set up the extra mics and the band-to-booth-only channel, this was not what they had in mind (as Rossi keeps reminding her) but… it’s so much fun. She hasn’t made Derek crack up mid-show yet, but she’ll get there. 

“One of these days you’re gonna use the wrong channel and the entire house is gonna hear you,” JJ says into her own second mic, but she’s grinning too. 

“Let ‘em listen, they’d just be jealous,” Penelope says breezily. “Another one?” 

“Can we run ‘Eviler Twin’ with the new bridge?” Spencer asks. 

Penelope adjusts levels on his synths and shoots him a thumbs up. “You got it, Boy Wonder. Hotch, count ‘em in.” 

-

Lead singer Emily Prentiss has a larger-than-life presence from the moment she steps onstage. She’s commanding and confident, and it’s hard to take your eyes off of her, whether she’s crowdsurfing, jumping around the stage, or delivering one of her trademark fiery speeches between songs. 

When Prentiss first expressed an interest in singing, her mother hired a private vocal coach who specialized in opera, and was disappointed when her daughter showed interest in less classical genres. 

“She was pissed,” Prentiss says, smiling to herself. “I started sneaking out when I was fourteen or so and going to this one little local dive bar that got all the punk and hardcore bands. I’m still not sure how I convinced them to let me in. But seeing the Dead Kennedys made me decide I was going to be in a band. I just looked at Jello Biafra and thought, I want to do that.”  

While their music isn’t explicitly political, the band themselves aren’t shy about expressing their opinions, Prentiss in particular. 

-

“...and that’s why I never wear a bra,” Emily finishes. “Does that answer your question?” 

“I think so?” Paul says hesitantly. He’s making a noble effort not to look down at her tits. 

Emily’s pretty sure it doesn’t answer the question, not even a little bit, but she’s also pretty sure the question was about relationships, so. Fuck that question. 

Emily’s not great at press, but she is excellent at rambling about the patriarchy until people tune her out. 

-

Drummer Aaron Hotchner, best known as “Hotch,” has become the unlikely sex symbol of the band, despite being the only one who’s happily married. The attention only seems to embarrass him. 

“It’s real fun to read him thirst tweets and watch him turn colors,” Penelope says, with a devilish grin. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” 

When Hotch goes out to greet fans after the show, the female shrieks reach a deafening pitch. He greets everyone with a charming, dimpled smile and talks to each one as if there’s no one else waiting for his attention. The crowd is sizeable and some of the fans are overfamiliar, to put it mildly, but Hotch spends over an hour there, speaking to everyone individually. He remains unfailingly polite, taking pictures and signing things even after the rest of his bandmates have excused themselves for the night. 

“He’s just the sweetest,” one girl sighs to her friend as they finally head home. 

Hotch, who is notoriously unenthusiastic about talking to the press, did not want to comment. 

-

“Love you too, Jack. Take care of your mom,” Hotch is saying, as he walks through the green room door. He hangs up, and Emily can see the moment he notices Paul; his smile vanishes and his eyebrows flatten in a scowl. 

“Was that your son?” Paul asks politely. 

“Yes.” 

“How is he?” 

“Fine.” 

Paul’s smile falters for a second. “Do you talk to them every night, when you’re on the road? Touring must be tough.” 

Hotch just gives him a curt nod this time and Emily winces. Paul clears his throat. 

“So… you used to play in a grunge band, is that right?” he asks tentatively. 

Hotch gives him another stony look. “That is correct.” 

JJ opens the door, and Emily can’t help but mutter, “Oh thank fuck.” 

JJ looks between Hotch, who is holding eye contact without blinking, and a petrified Paul. Then she quirks an eyebrow at Emily, who gives her a panicked nod. 

“Hi there, you must be Paul,” JJ says warmly. She jabs Hotch discreetly in the side as she passes him. “Rossi and Morgan are getting food, Hotch, they said you should join them.” 

He looks like he’s about to protest, but Emily shoots him a look and he heads for the door. 

JJ sits next to Paul with a dazzlingly bright smile, eyelashes fluttering. “It is so nice to meet you. Reid and Garcia are in the batcave, I’m happy to take you out there, but I’m all yours if there’s anything you’d like to ask me about first.” 

Emily shoots her a thumbs-up and escapes before Paul notices. 

-

Jennifer Jareau, better known as “JJ,” has the sort of wholesome, all-American beauty that turns heads wherever she goes; she wouldn’t look out of place on a magazine cover. In fact, modeling was what led her indirectly to the band. 

JJ started playing music in her high school marching band, but never intended to pursue it seriously. She was the valedictorian of her small town’s high school and had a full scholarship to the University of Pittsburgh. Between her sophomore and junior years, though, she was spotted by a modeling agency and offered a job; it would just be one week, in Los Angeles. She says she was most excited about the opportunity to fly in an airplane for the first time. 

While in L.A., JJ met Prentiss, and the rest is history. The two women seem to work seamlessly together and frequently complete each others’ sentences, but while Prentiss is commanding and confident, JJ is soft-spoken and feminine, almost motherly. 

-

“I always wanted a family,” JJ says, with her most heartfelt Colgate-ad smile. “It ended up looking a little different than I expected, but here we are.” 

JJ’s 95% sure that’ll be the pull quote for the article. Men like Paul eat that traditional shit up with a spoon; she should probably rein it in before he jizzes himself. 

-

The “batcave,” as they call it, is so full of gear and recording equipment that I stand in the doorway while I talk to Reid and Garcia. Her desk takes up a third of the room, and it holds two laptops in addition to several sound boards and microphones. She’s putting together a rough demo of a song they started working on a couple days earlier. 

Reid, meanwhile, is sitting on the floor, surrounded by the disassembled parts of two amps, and he’s tinkering with something tiny and delicate-looking. When I ask what he’s doing, he rattles off a rapid-fire string of technical jargon, and I have to ask him to repeat himself. He looks to Garcia, who holds up her hands as if to say ‘don’t look at me,’ and Reid turns back to me to say, simply, “I’m making it sound better.” 

Reid has a tendency to speak at three times the speed of most humans, and frequently goes off on baffling tangents about everything from obscure composers to beekeeping to the origins of Halloween. It’s hard to follow, sometimes, but his bandmates seem used to it. 

When asked if anything has changed with the band’s recent success, he says thoughtfully, “I honestly haven’t noticed. None of it makes a difference to me, as long as I get to play music.” He pauses for a moment, then adds with a smile, “My high school reunion last month was very satisfying, though.” 

-

“... William Onyeabor, of course! Lately, also, a lot of Philip Glass and Gil Scott-Heron.” 

Spencer realizes he’s been staring up at the ceiling instead of talking to the reporter. He blinks and refocuses. Paul looks slightly shell-shocked. 

“So to answer your question, yes, we do spend a lot of time writing when we’re on the road,” Garcia interjects. Spencer winces. “We’ll probably have almost an album’s worth of demos by the time the tour is over. We could stay in here all day, the trick is getting Reid to remember to eat.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes. 

“So is that how you guys spend most of your spare time? Writing and playing music?” Paul asks. 

“Well, it’s not like we’re total shut-ins,” Garcia says. “We go out and have fun too. Admittedly, JJ and Emily’s idea of fun is starting bar fights, but -”

“Really?” Paul asks, looking at Spencer curiously. 

He scoffs. “No, she’s kidding.” 

Garcia, absorbed in whatever she’s doing on her laptop, continues absent-mindedly: “Well, it’s not that they start fights, but they both do Krav Maga and also attract a lot of idiots, so… idiots start bar fights and then the girls finish them. Let me tell you, you do not want to mess with JJ.” 

Paul looks at Spencer again. He shakes his head quickly. 

“I mean, can you really picture JJ in a bar fight?” he asks, forcing a laugh. 

Garcia’s still rambling. “Honestly though you really gotta watch out for this one right here. Reid’s our resident wild child.”  

He gives Paul a disarming, wide-eyed, ‘who, me?’ smile and shakes his head again. 

“Oh, man, one time in Boston he -” 

“Garcia,” Spencer interrupts. She looks up, glances at the tape recorder in Paul’s hand, and shuts her mouth hastily. Paul is starting to look suspicious.

“Ha! Just kidding,” Garcia says shrilly. “He’s a big ol’ dork, really.” 

Spencer nods earnestly, doing his best puppy eyes. “I spend most of my time reading, honestly. She’s just trying to make me seem cooler.” 

Paul’s expression clears slightly. “That… makes sense.” 

He doesn’t press for details, which is good. The legendary Boston Incident is not something Spencer needs in print. 

-

Derek Morgan learned guitar from his father, a Chicago blues artist, but says that when he began to write his own music, he immediately gravitated to classic rock. He cites Hendrix, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin as influences, and it’s easy to see that onstage; Morgan has the rakish charm and suggestive swagger to rival the moves of any of his idols. If anyone out of the group were to fit the mold of the traditional rockstar, I’d expect it to be him. 

The truth is much more innocuous. Offstage, he’s a perfect gentleman, respectful and chivalrous to a fault. He doesn’t drink, and he somehow finds time to work out almost every day, even when they’re on the road. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m dead boring,” he says, with a wide grin. “Truth is, none of us really fit into any of the usual boxes. That’s why we get along so well.” 

He says Garcia is his best friend in the group, and I can tell he’s fiercely protective of the band, especially the women. When asked if he’s usually the one looking out for the girls, he laughs. 

“Honestly, they’re not the ones I worry about,” he says. “But sure. We all look out for each other, really.”   

-

The bartender shows up, finally, and slides two glasses over to JJ. She knocks back the shot first. If this dumb hipster keeps slurring at her about how much artistry there is in dubstep, she’s going to need another one very soon. 

“People just don’t get it,” he says, sidling a little closer. JJ steps back. 

“Ben - Ken?” she asks, and the guy pauses, affronted. “I’m sure that’s very interesting, but you should probably know that I’m gay.” 

He raises his eyebrows. “Like, gay gay?” 

“Gayer by the second,” JJ says coolly. 

“How do you know, though?” Ken says, which is a level of douchebag she didn’t actually expect from him. He must be even drunker than he looks. 

JJ gives him a polite smile. “I’m going to go find my friends now.”

“Hey, hang on.” 

He grabs her arm as she turns away. Behind his back she can see Derek heading in their direction. She gives him a little “stand down” wave. 

“Bad idea,” she warns Ken. 

“Oh yeah? What -” 

“Back off,” Emily snaps, appearing at her side. 

Ken looks at them mutinously, and as they turn away, he mutters something that sounds like (but probably isn’t) “Duckin’ bikes.” 

“Say it to my face,” JJ tells him sweetly. “Let’s see how that goes for you.” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” he asks belligerently. 

Emily grabs one of his wrists and twists hard, while JJ gets the other. Ken yelps. 

“Everything okay here?” Derek says from behind him. He’s doing what can only be described as looming in a distinctly menacing way. “I think it’s time for you to head home, buddy.” 

“Shoo,” Emily adds. “Go on. Skedaddle.” 

Ken skedaddles. JJ can’t help but laugh.

“We had it under control,” Emily reassures Derek. 

He frowns. “You sure?”

“Just another one who thought he could cure me with his magic dick,” JJ says with a shrug. “More shots?” 

“No way, uh-uh,” Derek interrupts sternly. “Emily. Come on. You remember what happened last time you tried to outdrink JJ?” 

“It was so much fun until then, though,” JJ chirps. He knows them too well. She exchanges a look with Emily. 

“Hey, have you seen Reid lately?” Emily asks innocently, and while Derek is scanning the crowd and scowling, JJ gestures to the bartender. 

-

Only time will tell whether Business As Usual will continue to grow in popularity, but Rossi seems confident that they’re here to stay. To hear him tell it, he’s met everyone from the Stones to the Strokes (“And I have the scars to prove it!”) and he has an eye for which bands are in it for the long haul. 

He says, “Long-term success isn’t about who’s the most talented musicians or the best performers, although these guys are both. So many bands crash and burn early.” 

“Why is that? What makes you so sure these guys will be different?”

“You hear people blame it on the lifestyle, the drugs, the parties, but truth is, those don’t matter all that much as long as the band is taking care of each other.” He smiles proudly. “These guys, they’ll always have each others’ backs. They’re a team.” 

-

“You about ready to head back to the hotel?” Hotch asks quietly, lining up his shot. “This isn’t going to last much longer.” Sure enough, he sinks the ball neatly and straightens up, giving the table a calculating look. 

“Let me round ‘em up,” Derek says. “Meet you outside in five.” 

“When has it ever taken five minutes to round up this bunch?” Hotch asks wryly. “You have fifteen and then I’m leaving. Shout if you need help.” 

He spots Penelope first. She’s in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing with a guy who might as well have cartoon hearts popping out of his eyes. She’s not drunk to the point where she’s doing her signature Shitfaced Shimmy, so she won’t be too hard to wrangle. He catches her eye and taps his wrist, then points to the door, and she shoots him a thumbs up. 

Piece of cake. 

He looks around for Reid next, hoping against hope that the kid hasn’t attracted any crazy tonight. He’s not sure why or how, but Reid has proven more prone to disaster than the rest of the crew combined. If you asked Derek who in the band was most likely to get slapped, get kidnapped, get stabbed (accidentally), lose his shoes on the way back from the bathroom, get fully lost on the way to the bathroom, get hit on by a prostitute, puncture his own foot with a dart, snort something sketchy and end up wired til dawn, or befriend a mob boss, the answer would be Spencer Reid, every damn time. 

He knows this because Reid’s already done most of those things. 

Emily pops up at his side. Her level of sobriety is surprising until Derek notices the smug smile on her face and the phone number Sharpied on her arm. He gives her a fist-bump. 

“Meet you outside,” she says cheerfully. 

This might be even easier than he thought. 

“Hey, Emily,” he calls, and she turns back to look at him. “Have you seen Reid or JJ?” 

“JJ found me a while ago to borrow my swiss army knife,” she says thoughtfully, and then her eyes widen in realization. “She never came back and I haven’t seen Reid. Shit.” 

“Alright, you check outside, look in the alley, I’ll do a sweep around here. If Garcia’s not already outside, call Hotch.” Emily nods curtly and turns toward the door. 

Derek elbows his way around the fringes of the dance floor, scanning the crowd for JJ’s blonde hair, but no luck. He checks a couple of the out-of-the-way nooks and crannies where Reid likes to curl up to pass out, even glances under a couple tables, but there’s no sign of him. He heads for the door that leads to the hallway with the bathrooms. 

He almost runs right into JJ and Reid, who are arm-in-arm as they burst through the door. 

“Oh good,” he says, mildly surprised to see them both upright. Then Reid looks up with big, innocent eyes, sniffing and twitching his nose like a goddamn rabbit, and JJ flaps her hand urgently toward the front of the bar, stepping around Derek without breaking stride.   

“We should go,” she says quickly. “Now.” 

“What did you do?” he groans, shepherding them through the crowd. He can see them exchange a glance. JJ wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve, Emily’s multi-tool still clutched in her fist. 

“We may have rearranged some things,” Spencer mutters. 

“There might be some physics magic brewing,” JJ adds. 

Just as Derek half-shoves them through the front door, he hears a shout from the direction of the bathrooms.

Amazingly, everyone is standing on the sidewalk waiting for them. 

“Double time,” Derek says hurriedly, and they all fall into step. 

“Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds,” Hotch says, looking at his watch. He holds a hand out to Penelope. “Pay up.” 

“Thing One and Thing Two over there were just stirring up some chaos,” Morgan explains. 

“Do I want to know?” Penelope asks, fishing a twenty out of her purse. “Is this a plausible deniability situation?”  

Emily shakes her head. “I swear, Reid, one of these days I’m going to put a leash on you, and not in a fun sexy way.” 

JJ and Reid are already half a block ahead of the rest of them, arms linked, heads together like they’re plotting again. JJ lets out one of her weird little coke-giggles and Derek can hear Reid chattering about… the Wizard of Oz, for some reason? Whatever. 

Just another day for this weird-ass bunch he calls family. 

[alleiradayne]

LONG JACKET A DESTIEL-ISH SERIES

Over the last few years, I’ve seen some of the craziest shit hunting with the Winchesters and their angel, Castiel. But this story right here? This isn’t about monsters. This isn’t about the battle between good and evil, heaven and hell. I understand all that.

It’s people I don’t get. People are crazy. And we do crazy things when we’re in love.

PART IV - UNDERSHIRTS

Summary: A lot of investigation, a little bit of a lead, and some personal time between Sam and Y/N. Warnings/Tags: Seriously, more awkward flirting, mentions of missing persons, investigations Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Female!Reader Word Count: 1,656

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

In a rare display of emotion, Sam tossed the dossier onto the dash of the Impala. “Why in the hell did five random dudes just… disappear?”

The Impala rolled around a corner as Dean turned down a residential street outside of Salem proper. “Maybe they were rushes? Initiation gone wrong…”

“They’re twenty-seven. If you’re going back to college at that age, the likelihood of joining a fraternity is very slim,” Sam replied. “I doubt a group would even rush them.” His chin dropped into his right hand, elbow propped on the sill of the passenger door. “None of this makes sense. I don’t even think it’s a case.”

There’s a reason I don’t play poker. Dean saw my reaction clear as day in the rearview mirror. “What’s up, Y/N?”

“I’m not sure anything up our alley is going on here,” I managed. “So I dunno. Vampires? Draining young, healthy guys and discarding the bodies?”

Beside me, Castiel shrugged. “It’s unlikely. There’s no other vampire behavior. These people went missing in the middle of the day.”

Sam whipped around to face him. “What?”

“The last time they were seen was the middle of the day,” Castiel stated. “You read the reports, right? That’s the only common thread I found.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Dean’s exaggerated gasp rent the air as he gawked at Sam, then laughed when he saw Sam’s flat stare. “I can’t believe it, the great Sam Winchester, investigator extraordinaire, missed something.”

“Shut up. It’s not like you noticed either,” Sam retorted.

As hard as I tried to hold back, unbidden laughter shook my shoulders. Between Sam’s irritation—I never wanted to annoy him, but as of late, it seemed relatively easy to get under his skin—Castiel’s impatience, and Dean’s one-track mind, my ribs burned with the effort to keep quiet.

“Hey,” Dean admonished as he slowed the Impala in front of a pale blue house. “I don’t hear you offering up anything besides lame-ass vampires, Ms. Y/N.”

“That’s because,” I started as I opened the door, “I bet you won’t like my best theory much.”

A metallic crunch echoed through the neighborhood as Dean exited the Impala and rounded the front-end. “Oh, I’ll take it,” he continued. “Twenty bucks says you can’t piss me off.”

Halfway up the walk to the house, I rounded on him and said, “I don’t think there’s a case here, and I think Detective Williams’ called you to get laid.”

If anything, Dean was, at most, mildly offended. He knew we weren’t dumb. Maybe he had hoped we wouldn’t figure it out. When the subtle pink blossomed on his cheeks again, he attempted to side-step me for the house, but Sam grasped him by the shoulder and pointed at me.

“Pay the lady.”

That indeed seemed to piss him off. Dean shoved a hand in his pocket, tore out his wallet, and shuffled through it. Then he smacked an old twenty-dollar bill into my hand and grumbled to himself as he stalked past.

“I think there’s actually a case here,” Castiel said over my shoulder.

“How so?”

He gestured to the house directly ahead. “I think we’re about to find out.”

Too many hours in and out of the car had stiffened my legs and knotted my neck. Not to mention all the sinking sofas, worn-out chairs, and leaned on countertops at five different interviewed homes. But it had all been worth it.

“Groceries.”

Dean kept repeating himself the entire way back to the motel.

“Groceries.”

“Dean, we get it, the last thing they told anyone they were going to do was grocery shopping,” Sam barked. “Why is that so weird?”

When the Impala lumbered over the driveway and into the motel’s parking lot, I decided it was time to play the game. “They all went to the same store. Could have been one of the employees.”

“That’s… a possibility, sure,” Sam started as he exited the car. When I followed, he continued. “But it’s just as likely that they were randomly targeted on the way to the store. Or out of the store.”

“Which store?” Castiel asked at the door.

Dean unlocked it and strode through. “L&M Foods.”

I had made it across the motel room and withdrawn my pajamas from my bag when Sam said, “We should take a look around tonight. When there aren’t so many people around.”

My chin slumped to my chest. “I guess I’ll sleep later.”

Castiel rushed to my side and touched my forehead with no warning. Warmth spread through my entire body, but when he withdrew his hand, I still ached. “You need to rest. We can check in the morning.”

Sam regarded Dean, who shrugged, then turned back to me with a worrying twist to his lips. He closed the space between us, then asked, “You gonna be okay, Y/N?”

The aching muscles in my neck screamed out for relief in the nearness of Sam. But I kept that to myself, despite my staring at his massive hands. “I need to get some sleep.”

Either he could read minds or body language. I’d bet on both. Sam’s soothing touch rubbed my shoulder. Perfectly innocuous, and every bit the caring friend he seemed determined to remain.

Except Dean knew otherwise. At least, I assumed he knew how I felt. When I spotted his crooked smile, I dug as deep as humanly possible for every ounce of resolve to not blush.

“Cas and I can—,” Dean started, but he froze when he turned to Castiel. Again.

Castiel had removed his suit jacket, tie, and button-up before anyone had noticed. “I… thought we weren’t going anywhere until tomorrow morning.”

To that day, I had never seen Dean’s face turn so red so quickly. And then it finally dawned on me. Where I had saved face—albeit a fraction—when caught pining for someone, Dean openly blushed, stared without reservation at the object of his affection.

Look, I am the first to admit that I know next to nothing about flirting. Hell, half the time, all I did was irritate the piss out of Sam. But Dean and Castiel knew fuckall. And at that exact moment, as Dean stared at Castiel in suit pants and an undershirt, everything made sense.

“You know, now that I think about it,” I started far louder than I had intended. Dean startled as he averted his gaze, and Sam snatched his hand from my shoulder. “We should get a look tonight.” Though I tried to fight it, a wide yawn interrupted my statement, and Sam’s touch returned.

“No, Y/N, you need rest,” he insisted. “You two can go tonight yet, right?”

Castiel shrugged back into his shirt. “I don’t need to sleep, but are you—”

“I’m fine!” Dean barked as he grabbed his jacket and rushed out of the motel room.

The dejected sigh from Castiel as he tossed on his suit jacket—he had forgone the tie, left in a pile on the table—followed him to the door.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Give him some time,” I said. “He’ll figure it out.”

He smiled at that. “Thank you.” Before heading through the door, he regarded Sam with an equally fond smile, then left.

When the door closed, I turned to Sam, but he spoke first. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

The perfect opportunity had presented itself, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

“You know, riding in the backseat of that car all the time really does a number on my back.”

“Oh,” he quipped as he sat on the bed. “Here, sit in front of me. The only spot in the Impala that is remotely comfortable is the driver’s seat.”

Well, shit. Can’t say I didn’t try. I did as he said and sat on the edge of the bed. Deft hands and precise thumbs started in on the knots of my shoulders with expert accuracy. “I guess you would know.”

“My neck is constantly killing me,” he agreed. “I usually take a couple tennis balls in a sock to my shoulders. Hurts like hell, but the relief is worth it.”

A momentary silence filled the space as my mind slowed to nothing and sleep threatened. Before long, I slumped over, and only Sam’s gentle shake woke me. “Sorry. Castiel wasn’t joking. This exhaustion is fucking terrible.”

Sam squeezed my shoulders one more time before motioning towards the bed. “You should change and get some rest. When we get back to the Bunker, I can really take care of these.” He prodded the lingering knot at the base of my neck.

“I could return the favor, too,” I suggested as I stood.

It wasn’t until I turned to him and found a blush on his cheeks, similar to Dean’s, that I understood. “I mean, only if you want, just thought I’d offer, you know, it’s fine if you don’t, I get it, it’s kind of weird—”

“I would enjoy that very much.”

If I hadn’t been so damn tired, I might have made another move. But sleep beckoned—no, demanded—my attention. I offered my best beyond-exhausted smile as I turned for the bathroom and, once there, shut the door.

I didn’t bother locking it. I knew Sam wouldn’t come in unless I explicitly asked. And even then, knowing how I’d burned the wick at both ends for far too long, he would merely drag my dead weight into bed to sleep. And sleep I would. Dear Lord, I never knew the human body could experience such draining exhaustion.

After a quick change of clothes and a brushing of teeth, I left the bathroom and found Sam at the table pouring over dossiers. His brief smile faded the second he returned to the profiles, eager to get to the bottom of the case.

As I curled into bed, I convinced myself that he wanted to get back to the Bunker sooner than I did.

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

LONG JACKET MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 1X10 Asylum

Hello hello hello we back at it again

featuring potential rpg googling cuz this is the only chill time I allow myself regularly

Also Idk anything about this one so wheeeee

oho it’s gonna be like silent hill I see

and I’m trying to figure out an urban fantasy Jane Austen thing

That isn’t like...steal from pre-existing idea cuz that’s wrong, so I’m not gonna look at that google page anymore

we could theoretically use the same races+modifiers, it’s just the items+classes that get fucked

heh some kiddos hid in the asylum

OPE AND it’S HAUNTED

so the items likely depend on the class, and so now I gotta figure out the classes

Nobility, middle class, lower class and ~vague army thing~ seem like good bets

OH AND GROUNDSKEEPERS/SERVANTS

OH N O he has a wife AND HE’S POSSESSED

PUT YOUR HAND AWAY FROM THE GUN

HAND AWAY FROM GUN

ok this one was good intro, I like it a lot

and they’re angsting about their dad again

ThE mAn cAn BaRelY woRk a ToaSter heh

Dean’s hope/desire for approval + Sam’s cynicism HDOFASIHA

...I kinda wanna see a like....ball+locked in+murder one by one thing

ha Sam and the acting is KILLING me

I do love the “Everyone pick on Dean” thing it’s quite funny

OOO ACTUAL DETECTIVE WORK

OHO AND THEY JUST CREAK APART I LIKE THAT

dOn’T aSk Don’T tEll 

the imagery is genuinely creepy, the vibe is very good, very spook

I can’t believe I had to google how to spell genuinely

this argument hurts me I sWEAR TO GOD

Dean follows orders in hopes of getting praise + Sam’s given up ALFHISDASIH

I genuinely cannot say this enough but fuck John Winchester

heh Sam needing to do actual therapy to the get the deets, good, finally some good came from these fucking cases

Look, I understand ghost hunting is Cool and Hip but for fuck’s sake if murders and bad stuff happens, WHY WOULD YOU GO TOWARDS IT

ESPECIALLY THE OLD CREEPY THING, UNLESS YOU’RE TRAINED FOR G O D ‘ S SAKE

THE FLASHLIGHT THING+SILHOUTEE AHIDHFPS

I am too tired to google how to spell that

OH THAT CUT TO THE GUY IN THE STRAIGHT JACKET I ACTUALLY JUMPED

FU CK I’m genuinely scared/suspensed(idk if that’s a word who cares)

THIS IS WHY I NEVER PLAYED SILENT HILL I AM ~TERRIFIED~

JESUS THERE ARE MULTIPLE ASFIPS 

OHO? There’s LAYERS? A psycho killer killing the others?

FINALLY DEAN WITH THE COMMON SENSE WHY WOULD YOU GO INTO THE HAUNTED PSYCHO HOSPITAL

Look I’m aware that the psych ward is overdone but the imagery is effective for a reason 

I am genuinely scared rn, probably the first time since the pilot

Not that the other eps were bad, they just were more intrigue and interest and lore than actual horror imagery

WHY DO I KEEP WRITING GENUINELY I CANNOT SPELL IT TONIGHT

OH MY GOD HE’S BEHIND HER

Yes once again it’s the girl in danger, but whatever, ok, fine, we’ve established the misogyny 

Ok that’s a cool plot, the haunted patients trying to tell them something and them being too scared to listen

“Dean he’s your boss” “No” why do i feel like that Meant something, yk?

if it’s the doctor, paralleling all the horrible shit he did to the patients that are clearly in physical pain when they died....ohohoho

horror cliche? yes. But again, effective for a reason

especially for me, cuz I haven’t seen a lot of horror movies

Girl with shotgun feels like it’s set up to be joke, but I kinda like implication of girl needing to learn protection while guy did not

Am I reading into it on my own? probably, idk, I’ll choose to keep that in my head

hell even the filter’s coming in clutch this episode, it makes everything a bit extra Grunge

IHAPSFIS DOCTOR MAN AHIFSADPFAS

Is...Sam’s esp gonna kick in now? some Demony powers? 

HA SHE SHOT DEAN ok near him

EVIL DEMON SAM OH N O 

ASIFUSAPI THE DRAMATIC IRONY

OH MY GOD IT’S POSSESSION OH MY GOD

AND OF COURSE THEY HAVE BEEF THE SPIRIT CAN USE THIS IS WHY YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR EMOTIONS

Look I feel it says something these assholes have only had deep raw conversations whEN THEY WERE BEING POSSESSED OR SOMETHING IN THAT VEIN

ONE EMOTIONALLY SANE PERSON! O N E 

DEAN YOU SELF-SACRIFICIAL BASTARD It’s literally left to interpretation if Dean wanted to see what would happen or if it’s a trick fsaoidfjlhas

EWEWEW HIS MUMMFIED BODY

NO NOT THE FLASHLIGHT

HE TURNS TO FUCKING STONE IN FRONT OF DEAN THAT’S SO METAL

Sam: Tries to have a Talk 

Dean: nah, we don’t need to talk, no sharing, no caring, n o p e 

Dean he nearly killed you

AND WE END ON A DAD CLIFFHANGER

fuck that was horrific oh my god ok wrap-up

1. Good character dynamic exploration, good exploration of the brothers’ relationship, good good good character work

2. COOL SETTING! COOL STORY! I WAS ACTUALLY VERY SCARED

3. YES I KNOW IT’S CLICHE BUT IT WORKS OK 

4. the filter? rly rly worked for this story. Actually, most of everything worked for this story, I truly liked this episode

5. and now we’re gonna get John I’m so excited to hate him on main for ages, god I hate how much he fucked up his kids I hate him so much

6. and one last thing, the idea of the ENTIRE psych hospital being ghosts, and all of them being eternally tormented by the doctor man, and so they had to kill the source of unfinished business was Really quite cool and played on the general misery all around of those things and how that can spread. Am i reading too much into it, maybe, but GOOD LORD THAT WAS FUN.

This was literally so fun, so good, I enjoyed it a lot. WHEEEEEEE

[abbeyfangirl]

dragon age: all characters (companions)

I’ve been in this fandom for a hot minute now and I want to update my opinions on characters :)

Origins

Alistair: super sweet dude who literally is not the stereotypicalchantryguyfightme. He’s a great example of healthy masculinity and I totally wish he was bi because I have an entire essay on that— also: he’s a poc! His mum was brown. In game he’s got dark features. if you really want a blond/blue-eyes/white guy, make your warden that. or accept that brown people can be noble and moral. or just draw cailan, idk. just because BioWare whitewashes doesn’t mean you should.

Leliana: someone hug my singing girlfriend before I crush her under with my own hugs. Also: nugs. Yes! Shoes. Yes! She likes how I style my hair? YES!! I honestly think she’s super duper and it pisses me off whenever someone’s like: yeah she enjoys killing people and the Game. ok. and michel de chevin willingly participated in genocidal marches through the alienage he grew up in with his elvhen mum. 

Morrigan: dirty swamp witch that i stan and also have a v big crush on. tiddies. Have a son with a GW so we can raise him with our tiddies out in the forest. she’s also white-passing, as her father was chasind and all people we’ve seen that are chasind are black. therefore, she is biracial. therefore, poc can be goths and don’t shy away from giving morrigan a darker skintone. if the devs had of been thinking, she’d have a darker skintone.

Zevran: Actually is the best romance, I think. Loves consent, therefore I will stan him so hard my skull cracks a little. Also: he is a very brown boy and if he’s white in da4 I’m seriously going to throw all canon out the fucking window. genuinely a good person who needs to be told so. 

Wynne: grandma who only likes my friends who go to church. but also super sweet and I’d rest my head on her bosom (in a platonic way omg ZEVRAN)

Sten: angry quiet boi. the bestest boi. I totally would give him a kitten for a gift and bake him cookies. Thicc softie. I think if I had DA:O and i knew how to use mods i would mod the fuck outta him. sorry.

Sha(y)le: who’s gender? idk her. See also: fuck birds and authority. pound ur ass into the ground you feathery meatbag little shits. fuck songbirds.

Dog: such a good boi. thicc. thinks Alistair is a whiny fuck and is Morrigan’s only friend. love him. he’s the cutest companion. bet.

Ohgren: honestly forgot about him bcc he’s such a shitbag. also: he could’ve been a really cool addiction recovery type but NOPE. probably would have a trump shirt in a modern au and would catcall wlw and hit mlm. no thanks.

Awakening

Anders: he acts like rlly straight but he’s so gay I can smell it. also he’s rlly cute and fun and I love him so much.

Justice: MAYBE i’M selF CONSCious OF THE twitchING. is the friend that genuinely doesn’t get dick jokes but is ur 110% ride or die.

Nathaniel Howe: honestly is sort of a white knight/neck beard a little, but it’s kind of charming with his whole velanna m’lady?? grump boi. annoying soul patch that I’d mod out SO FAST—

Sigrun: would have ROMANCED the FUCK out of her. why she even entertains the idea of fucking with ohgren makes me realize most of the writers are dumbfucks.png. peppy little emo. 12/10 would die if she kissed my cheek teasingly.

Ohgren: why. why. why. I’d have brought Shayle over. Maybe Zev? Definitely Dog.

Velanna: she was written to be an annoying feminist and you can tell but I deadass am a kindred spirit with her bcc I too am deadpan annoyed with Thedas’ general population too. love her. Would’ve loved to romance her. She’d totally be one of those who’d get all tsundere and be like “n-no i hate you” *kisses the fuckin soul out of you then blushes so hard she’s now a tomato*

Dragon Age II

Anders: fuck the cops. i don’t care. fuck the cops. (vine reference). also: do i hate him for blowing up the chantry that would eventually annul a huge collection of his people? no. read dalishious’s meta on Anders. v intriguing. didn’t they retcon the fuck out of the reported deaths too? like there was like eight Templars and Elthinia in there. Templars killed more “abominations” in a day than Anders in the game canon—

Aveline: initially thought she was fine and then realized she’s shit to my lil brother and I will fucking clap her ginger ass. See also: whorephobia isn’t a joke so fuck off with treating Isabela badly, you tit.

Bethany: sunshine. Literal sunshine. I feel my freckles grow in her presence and i love it. she’s my little baby sister and I’d slam that ogre so fuckin hard before it touched either twin.

Carver: there has to be a mod where both twins survive. I love them both to bits. My babies. carver is my bitter, angry little brother and I can relate because I too am very angry and would totally clap my own ass. hes so genuine and I don’t get the competition between Beth and Carver. Like, both are fuckin stellar in different ways. In this essay I will—

Fenris: honestly, I don’t get the general hate between him and Anders. Fenris’ main arc should’ve been a recovery arc, not drunken moping and revenge. he deserves better. give him a soft sweater instead of his spikes and let him love himself as much as I love him for MAKERS SAKE. like when you really think about their relationship, it could’ve been an eye-opener for fenris and finally some legit sympathy for anders. but we all know that if they had of teamed up that Meredith would’ve been dead before the end of Act 1 so.

Isabela: whorephobia is not a joke. oversexualizing your only appearing brown woman is so poorly written. how about we appreciate her and her lovely bosoms but also let people tease her about her heart of gold? her innate understanding of freedom? instead of just a wave of dick? please?? can we give her some pants for when she fights? can we accept that i fall for rogues who hate themselves?? fuck. also whomever draws her x femHawke x Merrill literally is after my own heart.

Merrill: my fucking babygirl MARRY ME. Fenris could’ve been her older brother type, but NO. she and Isabela should’ve been canonical gfs instead of Isabela/Fenris (no shaming the pairing tho!!). I love how she’s written as neurodivergent. V nice. Sometimes I just look her up and cry because she’s fucking everything. Also: she’s in the Dalish origin and she’s far from being white. Why did they make the most innocent/naïve character really white? hmmmm.

Sebastian: whew that boy. Would totally be that annoying Mormon at your door but you still let him in bcc he’s super sweet. Also: huge ass bible thumper and should get his head slap because you said the maker loved all his children why do you defend a complicit old hag you annoying attractive fuck—

Varric: totally is a bard and the devs couldn’t handle the idea of him being one bcc it might make him look less straight. is the only grey morality person I don’t want to fucking bash in with a fry pan. he sees people and I like that, but you totally know he’s siding with mages every time bcc him and Anders are like besties. I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules. “Professional Younger Brother”.

Tallis: I know nothing about her but she seems okay. I think she was an escaped slave and honestly? Fucking props. Spy on a shitting organization, idk what you’re doing, but your VA was that cool lesbian from SPN so I think ur okay?

Inquisition

Blackwall: Redemption Arc 101. Love him to bits. Sad dad bunwall. good man. actually atoned for his sins by actively becoming a good person. his initial design is 80% hotter im so sorry but so not.

Cassandra: was way browner in the last game. would romance the fuck outta her. I love me a butch lady who melts at my dorky recitation of poetry. BioWare is a coward. also is the worst choice for divine. but not a bad person. could use some more guidance or get her ass whipped by a dalish elf about religion or a circle mage kid whos like “yeah bud i didn’t ask for the templars to whip my ass everyday for existing.”

The Iron Bull: I think the Qunari/Vashoth were a little based off black people (the whole anti blackness thing where ppl are scared of them bcc of whatever reason) and it pisses me off that he had a weird ass dubcon thing with Dorian in banter. It doesn’t make sense— he’s an A+++ dom and would not jump straight in role play without at least checking in at first like wtf BioWare.

Cole: his mother was chasind so he’s like not supposed to be that white? or like biracial? albino? idk. love him to bits tho. He’s neurodivergent and I deadass love him. romancing him? idk. I see why ppl think it’s fuckin nasty but also like as a writer I’d age him the fuck up so fast before my inquisitor even THOUGHT about that. like idk. I’m down with him being a sweet little bro character tho. he’s a babe. love him.

Sera: had the worst fucking writer I’ve ever seen and I willingly read the twilight saga twice by a shit ass racist white lady who okay’d pedophilia. like. Fuck you Kristjanson suck your own dick you fuck. had the worst options in regards to speak to her. has a thicc case of internalized racism that literally most of the fandom just loves to use against her. my lesbian neurodivergent queen. Would write a thousand fix it fics for her. Love her to bits. im gay.

Varric: I haven’t played DA2 so i don’t get why everyone wants to romance him but like. a dwarf romance? yes please. Idk he reminds me of my uncle so I only see him as fun uncle material. Deadass should adopt Cole and Merrill and co parent with Blackwall for Sera. dads? fuck yeah. love me some wholesome, present fathers.

Dorian: is a gay stereotype that I love/hate so much. and he’s also just as bad about being a creep bcc he sexualizes qunari men (in banter). I attribute that to shit writing tho. I want to protect him from all the “omg gay best friend!” people. he’d clearly be that tired gay that wouldn’t give a diddly damn about ur het romance. wanna talk about politics? he’s ur guy/gay.

Solas: “me, an intellectual:”. I don’t hate him, but I’m not about him. He comes off as mysterious and suave (which he totally is) but I deadass would not save him from himself because he’s a racist, exclusionist eggshell. idk. not my cup of tea, but I can totally see the appeal. And he’s interesting, I’ll totally say that. “I think the Dalish are garbage but they made you” is not a compliment. it’s so offensive. and such bait for “quirky girls” which I’m no fan of. Would be Achilles and let Patroclus (Lavellan in his case) die before he realized how his pride is literally a waste of time. If he gets a redemption arc I hope Lavellan gets to slap him before getting him to teach all about ancient Arlathan and show that the Evanuris weren’t all total dicknozzles. (Aka I really have a hard time believing that they’d be slavery cult things. especially since they’ve compared elves to indigenous ppl, Jews and the Romani.)

Vivienne: it’s so racist that they’d make a black woman be pro-slavery. That’s such internalized racism. She could’ve been the cool ass “educate yourself first before you speak, fool” ice lady, but NO. the devs could’ve kept the “Templars are a tool that I proudly can mandate” and the “circles are very good education” and we. Could. Have. Romanced. Her. Like. Fuck. Sake. I just wanna give her a hug and say “love yourself omg!!” and not even in a romantic way. Also: she and morrigan should not have been so antagonistic towards each other. I’d expect them to have great respect for each other, as they both moved up in the world through hardwork and very little help. They could learn different magic from each other too and still maintain that rival respect “oh you” mood. Sidenote: probably the cooler option for Divine. if her approval is high enough she’ll love and be loyal to you forever and i can’t see her agenda being bad. she improves the circles exponentially and tells all the antis to suck her pretty painted toes.

Josephine: an actual disney princess. romanced her my first playthrough. I love her so much. she just makes me so happy. And she’s like: “Integrity, Loyalty, peace. That is what it means to be a GREY WARDEN good fucking person.” she’s the person who would let you hold her hand if you got anxious and she’d be that person who shouldered the whole group project with finesse and poise and would probably lie for everyone as to not be mean. i love josie. her and leliana’s relationship is so cute, too. whether it’s romantic or not: women supporting women.

Leliana: if you leave her hardened you must hate her. why. she becomes so against herself. i like how shes feminine and lighthearted because that’s so powerful-- to remain hopeful when the world is hopeless. (its hard to know when to soften her/harden her so i get it but. google it. she deserves to be happy and sweet again.)

Cullen: uwu war criminal with shit ass “redemption arc” that was actually a half-assed (at BEST) recovery arc. Recovery isn’t linear, it isn’t pretty, and even the broken need to be told they are wrong in order to heal right. Like I’m offended by that bullshit. I’ve had to do some mental health recovery in the past and unlearning lots of toxic ideologies— which I’m still unlearning— and it bothers me that he gets an easy pass because he’s hot. It’s one thing if you like Cullen, it’s another thing if you hold him accountable.

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

Stuck With Cuffs

(Sorry it’s a repost) 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral female and male receiving, vaginal penetration, restraints!kink, stuck in an elevator, language, drinking, very slight implied child abuse at end but nothing specific at all.

Word Count: 3600

A/N: This one was a two for one deal. Written for Amber’s @huntingandwritingthings SPN Cluedo Writing Challenge, which I chose elevator with cuffs, and written for Kris’ @kdfrqqg First Writing Challenge. My prompt was “You can’t talk me out of this.” Again, still new at smut so please be kind and if you have suggestions for my writing, let me know. Congrats on your followers’ girls. No beta so mistakes are mine and feedback always wanted and appreciated.

Summary: You get trapped in an elevator with none other than Dean Winchester. Y’all are not only stuck, but supernaturally stuck by a ghost haunting the hotel. This elevator ride gets hot in more ways than one.

You arrived in Florida in your ’69 Camaro late last and checked in to the Rosen Shingle Creek Hotel. It was around 3 am so you figured you get some shut eye before you started the job considering you drove all the way from Kansas.

This particular hotel wasn’t the usual run down, cheap, sleazy motels that you would usual stay at, it was a five-star hotel and much to your dismay was expensive as hell making out on of your fake credit cards. However, you had no other choice, but to stay here as this was the place being haunted by a ghost tormenting, if not flat out killing, the guests.

You figured a little trip to the sunshine state would be nice. Catch a quick salt ‘n’ burn and maybe lay on the beach and get a tan. What you weren’t expecting was the killer humidity. It was hotter than hell here, like literally, because you had been to hell.

Any who, you woke up the next morning and got dressed in your usual black leather hunting attire (blood was easier to clean off leather than out of cloth) and grabbed your gear and headed out the door. This ghost seemed to be hitting guests all over the hotel so you figured you hit the top floor first and make your way down.

Once you finally got onto the elevator, you were shocked to find it empty. In a huge fancy hotel like this you figured the elevator would be crawling with people, but you figured they were staying out of the potential death box. You however still got on.

You were alone for a few floors until the elevator dinged signaling someone was about to get on. Once the doors opened a very hot guy stood before you. He was easily over 6 foot as he towered your 5’3 self, 5’4 if you counted the inch your boots gave you. He had short brown spiked hair, and the most gorgeous green eyes you had ever seen. He was built, but not too built like he was trying too hard. This man was fucking perfection wrapped up in a bow.

He noticed you staring and gave you a knowing smirk and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, figures he would be a womanizer. You knew the type all too well. Those were the type of men you scouted out in bars for a fuck and dump after a bad hunt.

He got on without a word and seemed to be headed where you were. The elevator went up a bit more and then suddenly stopped and the power went out in the elevator causing the emergency lights to come on. You reached out for the railing stumbling and falling into the stranger’s arms. He held you steady till you came to a complete stop when you pulled away from his grasp. Immediately you both took out your phones and noticed there was no signal and your heart started to race a bit.

You hit the call button, but mothing happened. No ringing, no noise, no nothing. You look over at the stranger and he can see the mild panic in your eyes.

“Let’s try to pry the doors open, ok?” he said trying to distract you and come up with something to help get out of the quickly heating box.

You nodded and you both put your hands on opposite doors and pulled. You weren’t weak by any means and you could assume the same about him, but the doors wouldn’t budge. You both let go of your grips and panted a bit feeling the heat starting to get to you. It was mid-summer in the Sunshine State after all.

“The escape hatch?” you questioned as you pointed to the ceiling. He nodded and lifted you to his shoulders only to find that was sealed shut too.

You sighed and tapped him on the shoulder to have him put you down.

“Alright well we should pool our resources and see what we have that could help us get out of here,” the stranger said.

“Uhhh…. okay,” you said nervously. “Just uh …. just don’t be freaked out with what I have in my pockets.”

“As long as you don’t get freaked out, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname as you both started emptying your pockets. You pulled out you 9mm pistol, your throwing knives, two flasks, and your phone, that was also your wallet, and your keys.

Dean pulled out his ivory grip colt, a flask, a strange knife with etchings on the blade, handcuffs, his keys and wallet, and what looked to be a small container of salt.

Suddenly the etchings on the knife looked familiar. This was the demon knife made by the Kurds. You had been hunting down this knife for ages and your last lead was that a demon named Ruby had it, but was now dead. That’s when the realization hit you, he was a hunter and you had a surprised look on your face that the stranger mistook for freaking out.

“Hey sweetheart, I thought we agreed no freaking out? I promise you I’m not some psycho killer. Your perfectly safe.”

“For starters, that’s exactly what a psycho killer would say, so that’s not convincing. And I’m not freaked out, I’m just shocked. You’re a hunter?”

“Uhh…. Yeah, have been my whole life. Considering your little inventory there, I’m guessing you are too.”

“Yeah since I was about 10. The name’s Y/N. And you are?” you said as you reached out your hand for him to shake.

“Dean. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Wait, Dean, as in, Dean Winchester?”

“Uhhhh…. yeah. So, I’m guessing you have heard of me and my brother then?”

“Well, you don’t almost end and simultaneously save the world a few times without being known. Not to mention you have died like 100 times, so Winchester in the hunter world is like the Beatles in the classic rock world. Everybody knows about them. I just didn’t think you’d be so …… good looking. Most hunters I’ve come across are either nasty old geezers or trying too hard to flaunt what they don’t have.”

“One, sorry about the whole world thing. That was our bad. Two, thank you. You are not too bad yourself, sweetheart. I would even say you are gorgeous.”

Those words shocked you. You had been expecting sexy or hot, you know the words men use to objectify you, but gorgeous? That made you blush. Maybe Dean was different from the others. Maybe he was different from all the stories you had heard about him.

“Thanks. Is it me or is it starting to feel like a roaster oven in here?”

“Normally, I would spout some joke about having that effect on the ladies, but you’re right. I feel like a fucking baked potato in here,” he said as he shrugged off his flannel at the same time you shrugged off you leather jacket.

“Gotta say, love the digs. That’s a lot of leather though,” he chuckled as you both took a seat on the ground.

“Yeah, black is easier to keep clean and it’s easier to wash blood off leather than out of cloth.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.  I have a question for ya?”

“Shoot.”

“Why two flasks? I mean I get the one but two?”

“Well, this one,” you said picking up your skull flask that read ‘pick your poison’. “this one holds my whiskey that I need on occasion,” you said as you unscrewed the top and took a swig. “And this one,” you grabbed you batman flask. “This was my little brothers before a demon got him, so I use it to carry holy water cause you never know when it might come in handy.”

Dean gave you a sad smile knowing what it feels like losing a younger sibling, despite his always coming back to him. “Sorry, about your brother.”

“Yeah, me too. He was a good kid. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and a demon possessed him and a hunter killed him. It is what it is,” you said as you took another swig of whiskey and removed your boots and your shirt, leaving you in your leather pants and black lace bralette. Dean didn’t fail to notice this.

“Uhh … you mind if I take a swig of that?” he asked gesturing to your flask.

“Don’t mind at all. Looks like we are going to be here awhile. Stupid ghost and their supernatural powers to seal you in a fucking toaster oven,” you said or more liked screamed that last part as you handed Dean your flask and he took a swig.

“Uhhh…. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything but do you mind if I take my shirt off. I’m fucking dying in here,” Dean asked.

“It’s fine. Go ahead. I’m pretty much down to the bear minimum myself so yeah.” With that he took off his shirt and damn this man was fine. What was the word he used for you? Gorgeous. He was fucking gorgeous. “Shit,” you mumbled under breath. Unfortunately, he heard you.

“What? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, it’s just …. it’s just we’re gonna be trapped in here awhile…”

“Yeah….”

“We have nothing to do and we are basically half naked…”

“Yeah….”

“Really Winchester? Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“No, I just want to hear you say it.”

“Fine,” you said as you started crawling closer to the beautiful man in front of you. “Wanna have sex, screw, bone, fuck, however you what to say it?” you purr in his ear as you sit on his lap.

“You bet your fine ass I do,” he said as he grabbed the back of your head and smashed his lips into yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hair at the nip of it. He deepened the kiss sliding his tongue to invade your mouth.

You felt his cock twitch under you so you gave your hips a little roll and got off his lap. You unbuckled his belt and went to remove his pants. As you went to wrap your lips around his glorious member, he stopped you.

“You can’t talk me out of this. Elevator sex has been something I’ve been dying to try and this is the perfect opportunity,” you said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart, but you’ll have to leave the oral part to me because with you, this heat, and this whole situation, I’ll never last if you suck me off,” he declared as he grabbed you and laid you on your back. He went to remove your pants only to get frustrated at all the buttons making you chuckle.

“Need some help. I know they can be a little difficult.”

“No, I got it,” he said as he popped the last button and tore your pants off. He groaned at the sight of your black lace panties that matched your bralette all too well and started to kiss up your thigh as he rubbed your core through the lace.

The sensation of his lips on your hot skin and the fabric creating friction it was enough to make you moan and arch you back.

Dean smiled and kissed your core through the lace and you could feel him smile as the moan you released.

In another moment, he sat up and quickly slid your panties down and off your legs. He sank his face down to your cunt and wrapped his arms around your thighs and dug in. He licked a long strip through you folds causing you to arch your back. He licked through your folds a few more times before he took his tongue and stuck it in your hole.

The man was a god with his tongue. As he tongue fucked you, you ran your fingers through his hair causing him to emit a groan.

“Fuck, Dean. I’m close.”

Dean nodded and licked through your folds again and then his mouth came to your clit and started to suck on it. After a minute, he went back to using in tongue and had you teetering on the edge.

“I’m gonna cum. Shit, Dean, I’m gonna cum,” you said as you closed your eyes and tugged at his hair and arched your back.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, cum for me. I wanna taste you on my lips.”

With that you were pushed over the edge and you came on Dean’s face and he lapped up all the juices you had to offer. He groaned into your pussy with satisfaction as he came up to look at you with his lips and chin all glossy from your juices.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look beautiful when you cum,” he said making you blush.

He wiped the glossiness away with the back of his hand and started to climb up your body. He planted his lips to yours and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. He slipped you out of your bralette and cupped your breast.

“Shit,” he said all the sudden.

“What?” you whimpered still coming down from your orgasm.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Have you been tested? Any diseases I should be concerned about?”

“Uhhh Yes, I’ve been tested. I do so every few months and no. No diseases as of last month.”

“Okay, good. I’m on the pill so we are good. Fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, but first I need you to put these on. Well on one wrist anyway,” he said as he picked up the handcuffs and handed them to you.

“Kinky. I like it,” you replied as you took the and cuffed one wrist and Dean took the other cuffing your hands behind your back.

At this point, you are both standing and he bends you over on the rail holding on to your cuffed hands as he inserts himself into you.

“Damn sweetheart, you’re so tight. I don’t know if I’ll be able to last,” he said as he started plowing himself into you.

“I’m not that tight, you’re just huge,” you replied through moans as Dean rocked your body in the right way.

However, this position was pulling you to the edge like you craved, like you needed.

“Fuck Dean, this position isn’t working for me. Lay on the ground,” you ordered and he happily obliged.

You placed your feet on either side of Dean’s legs as he helped you lower yourself onto his girth. He was so thick it felt amazing and you threw your head back in pleasure. You started to move yourself up and down on his cock and managed to hit spots that no one had ever hit before. Spots that sent you into a frenzy of pleasure you had never experienced before in your numerous sexual encounters.

“Fuuucccckkkkk, DDDDean,” you screamed grabbing your ass cheeks spreading them apart,

“Fuck sweetheart you look so good bouncing on my cock,” he said as he reached up cupping both your breasts.

“D-dean,” you said starting to feel the intense pleasure making you a little weaker. Dean noticed this and sat up and slipped his arms under yours to keep you close. He was more than willing to take over the thrusting but you kept going so he let you keep the control while he supported you.

“Dean, pl-please tell me you’re close. I’m about to come.”

“I’m right behind you sweetheart, you can let go. Go ahead and come,” he said as he took his finger and wiped away some of the hair sticking to your face.

With those words, your walls clenched around his length eliciting a groan to fall from his lips. He followed right behind you filling you with his seed. Your vision went black as you succumbed to the pure bliss that engulfed you. When your vision came back you felt Dean’s arms around you, supporting you and his green orbs looking into your e/c ones making sure you were ok.

When he noticed you were coming back to reality he reached behind you and uncuffed your wrists. You held onto his shoulders as he leaned the both of you back onto the ground. You laid your head on his chest and started tracing patterns with his finger on your back.

Dean Winchester was definitely different from all the other guys you had fucked in the past. In fact, he was different from how everybody said he was, even different from how he carried himself. With other guys, all they wanted was a good lay. They’d fuck you, use you, then throw you away. They’d cum in or on you and let you fall back as they left. Which you didn’t mind initially because that’s what you wanted, but the thing is. The bed gets cold when you’re always alone. You get lonely when they walk out the door.

Dean proved to be more than those assholes. He could get kinky and fuck you to next Sunday, but at the same time hold a gentleness towards you and almost take care of you in a way. He made sure you were comfortable, made sure you didn’t fall, held you till you were ready to come back down to Earth. Nobody had ever treated you with such kindness and you didn’t think you could go back. You didn’t want to.

Before you had a chance to say anything the elevator roared back to life and you both quickly scrambled up to get dressed before anyone could see you butt ass naked. You both were able to put your underwear and pants back on but were quickly running out of time. You quickly scrapped up Dean’s flannel and covered up in time as the doors opened. Dean was still in the middle of putting his shirt on.

On the other side of the door was a stunned looking Sam or so you guessed.

“Uh... Dean? Do I even want to know what went on in here?” Sam asked.

“We were trapped in there for three fucking hours, Sammy. We had to do something to pass the time and get our minds off the scouldering heat,” Dean said as he handed you your shirt and jacket.

“Wait where’s my bralette?” you asked.

Dean looked in the elevator and saw it hanging off the call button. He grabbed it, smirked, and handed it to you.

“Well, you must be Sam. I’m Y/n, also a hunter and I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to show you and the entire lobby my boobs so yeah. Thanks for getting us out of there,” you said.

“Uh you’re welcome and nice to meet you too,” Sam declared.

“So, Sammy to you get whatever it was that was haunting this place?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, ganked the ghost. That’s uh actually what trapped you in there,” Sam answered.

“That makes sense. We should head back Kanas to check on Cas,” Dean said.

“Wait, y’all live in Kansas?” you asked. They nodded. “No way, so do I. Where?”

“Lebanon,” Sam answered.

“No shit. I live or I guess squat like an hour away from there,” you retorted.

“You don’t have a place to live?” Dean asked.

“Not really. Not for the last year anyway,” you answered.

“Well then come stay with us. We could always use another hunter and I could use the extra cardio,” he said sending you a wink.

“Stop with the fake playboy act would ya. You don’t have to play that in front of me. I’d actually prefer you didn’t. Before you ask, with what just happened in there. I’ve never been treated so…. So gently or kind I guess is how I would put it. Don’t pretend to be one of those assholes when this is much more preferable,” you said. “And I’d love to come with you.”

Dean didn’t respond to your comment just nodded.

“Need a lift you’ll have the whole backseat to yourself,” Sam said.

“And leave my precious Princess behind? Hell, no. I’ll follow,” you said.

“You too? You named your car too? What is it with you people?” Sam asked.

“Let me guess that sweet as ’69 Camaro I saw parked out front is ‘Princess’?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You bet your ass and I restored her all myself so she definitely doesn’t get left behind,” you said with a smile.

“Next, your gonna say you love bacon cheeseburgers,” Sam said.

“Uhhh duh. Who doesn’t?” you answered.

“It’s like you were made for each other,” Sam said pointing to the two of you.

“Maybe…” Dean said.

“Well, we better get going,” you said as you gripped the overly large flannel and the rest of your things and ran to your car.

Little did you know that this was just the beginning. That Dean would turn out to be the love of your life. That he would be the one to break you away from your darkness and daddy issues that were all so different from his. This was the man you would love for the rest of your life. Little did you know that five short years later you would be married and expecting first child together. A daughter. A daughter you knew Dean would treat so much better than your father did you. A daughter that Dean would dote over and be the cutest sight in the world.

[hannahindie]

Breathe - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,200 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: Six months ago, Y/N runs into someone unexpected at the local bar while researching a case. For one night, she decides to forget and just try to be normal. Present day, Dean wants answers and Y/N isn’t sure how to explain herself. A/N: This is the fourth part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card series, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

It was beta’d by the ever fantastic and my writing soulmate @trexrambling: “ Don't we all. -happy sigh-”

My beautiful twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “oof...this would give me feelings to hear from the lips of Dean Winchester”

And my dear, sweet angel baby @masksandtruths: “Ughhhh. Yep I want to go cry in a corner now.”

Thanks to all three for helping a girl out so that her words make sense. I owe a lot to all of you.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

6 months earlier…

This bar is perfect. It's in the middle of nowhere, it's cheap, and so far not one person has tried to get my number or buy me a drink.

“Hey, sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?”

Never mind.

I take a deep breath then spin around to face the jackass that's ruining my perfect bar experience, “What makes you think-”

“Y/N?”

I should have recognized his voice, but I definitely recognize the green eyes sparkling in the dim light, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he realizes who he just tried to hit on.

“Dean?”

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” He looks like he’s trying to decide if he should do something, like give me a hug or a hearty pat on the arm, but ends up just jamming his hands into his pockets. I give him an awkward smile.

“Working a case, what about you?” I turn back to the bar and he slides onto the stool next to me.

“We just finished one, heard there might be something over this way so we figured we'd check it out before we went home.” He waves down the bartender and orders two more beers.

“I'm not even sure it is a case. Haven't been able to find much, I'm starting to think it's a thing for the locals to handle. I figure I'll do some more research in the morning, head out of it’s nothing.” I take a swig from my beer as he waves the bartender down. “We? Sam is here too?”

“Yea, he said he wanted to research and the bar would be too loud. The campus library is open late, so he's camping out there for the night.”

We fall silent, and I wish it didn't feel so awkward. There didn't used to be this...space. Now it feels like we are on two totally different tracks, speeding along next to each other but never actually crossing paths. Not even when we are sitting mere inches apart. I won't lie; the feeling sucks.

“It's been awhile. Why haven't you called?” I look over and he's fiddling with the label on his beer, pulling it off the bottle in tiny pieces like he's always done when he's nervous.

I shrug, “It’s been busy. Phones work two ways, you know.” I’ll just leave out the whole ‘cancer takes a lot of out of you’ part, and the bit where I shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with my pain medicine.

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat, “Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything...about Bobby, about what...what I said.” His voice is quiet, but the apology packs a punch. Dean isn’t usually one to apologize, at least not easily.

“You weren’t the only one that said shitty things, Dean. It’s not like I offered you a fresh glass of sweet tea and invited you to sit on the porch with me so we could talk about our feelings.”

He chuckles and I finish my beer, sliding it down the bar as I grab the one Dean just bought for me. “I guess that’s true.” He sighs, “What happened to us? We were...we were good, weren’t we? You, me, and Sammy...we were the best.”

I glance over and really look at him for the first time since he’s sat down. He looks tired, his face more haunted than it was the last time I saw him. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and, considering he’s a Winchester, that’s probably not too far from the truth. He’s still handsome though; age has been kind to him. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are more pronounced, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. I like it, other than it hides how strong his jawline is.

“You still are.”

He smiles sadly and shakes his head, “If you knew...I’m not the best, not anymore.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm and he looks up at me, “Life happened to us, Dean. And it’s not like one of the monsters that we can hunt down and destroy. Life sneaks up and picks and pulls you apart, and every once in awhile it gives you a little glimmer of hope, of what could be. If you’re lucky, the glimmer turns into something more, but for people like us...that’s all it is. A hope of what could be, not what’s going to happen. We save people, but we don’t save ourselves.”

I stare at my hand on his arm and remember what we used to be like; best friends, inseparable as soon as John put me in the backseat of the Impala. It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for Bobby’s death, but I had been angry and hurt. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one that lost their father that day, not until it was too late, anyway. “You are a good man who has given up everything so that others don’t have to. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to understand that before.”

Dean softly places his hand on top of mine and squeezes, “You’ve given up a lot, too.” He clears his throat and straightens up on the barstool, his hand moving from mine to his beer. “I think we need something a little stronger than beer. Still a whiskey girl?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” I respond with a smile, grateful that the familiar comfort I used to feel with Dean seems to have returned.

“D-do you remember that time we stole Bobby’s truck and went into town, I don’t even remember what we were lookin’ for, but we left and didn’t tell him?” I stumble slightly, and Dean catches my arm.

“How can you not remember what we were lookin’ for? You decided you wanted to go see Titanic, and you talked my stupid ass into it!”

I snort, “Pshtttt, you know you wanted to see some Kate Winslet boobies, don’t even pretend.”

“I had to pretend to be your brother so you could get in! Lemme just add that as much as I may have wanted to see Kate Winslet boobs, I by no means wanted to see them with you sitting next to me.”

“Listen, you loved that movie. I saw you cry.”

“Tha’s...tha’s bullshit. I don’t cry over chick flicks, ‘specially not when I’m with someone else in a public theater.” He gives his head an emphatic shake, as if that’s going to drive his point home.

“HA!” I stop and poke him in the chest, “You said ‘especially’, which means you’re not above doin’ it alone. Dean Winchester has feelings.”

“Oh, I had feelings, just wasn’t ‘bout the movie.”

“See! You have feelings, you just ad..mitt….wait, what?” My finger is still on his chest, and he smirks down at me.

“Y’heard me.” His eyes are sparkling, and the mischievous look he used to have when we were young is back. It makes him look like a kid again, and it’s enough to make me ignore how badly this could end. I forget that my decision has made this an impossibility, and I shift my hand so that it lays flat against his chest. He’s warm, God, he’s so warm and I can feel his heart beating against my palm.

“You had feelings?”

His hands land on my waist and he pulls me flush against him. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his proximity, but my face feels hot as I stare up at him. “I never said they stopped.”

“Oh,” I breathe out, his words fuzzy and sharp at the same time. “I...d’ya want...I mean, my hotel room is jus’-” I don’t get a chance to finish my question because his lips are on mine and it’s like my entire brain short circuits. I would be lying if I said I never wanted to find out what this felt like. I assume any woman that looks at Dean wonders what it would be like.

I can promise you, there are no words to describe how it feels.

I can try. I can tell you that his lips are soft, softer than I could have ever imagined. He smells like gun oil and leather, with a hint of whiskey from our time at the bar. It reminds me of home, of riding in the backs of cars and learning how to fight, and how to care for people. He’s warm, even through all his layers it's radiating from him like a heater, and I can’t help but let my hands roam across his chest and down to the small of his back.

He pulls back and laughs softly and I take a moment to catch my breath. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think this can continue in public.” He shifts, and I am made aware as to why we should probably vacate the busy sidewalk.

“Come on, I think I can remedy that.” I grab his hand and start walking down the street again.

“Where are we going?”

“My hotel room, duh.” He laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. For the first time in a long time, everything feels...normal.

I’m not dying. We aren’t fighting monsters and evil, and we aren’t saving the world. We’re drunk, and we’re letting ourselves feel what normal people get to feel. It might just be a beautiful lie that we’re telling ourselves for this one night, but I don’t care. Because for once...for once it can just be us, and I don’t have to remember that it’s going to be short lived.

We stop in front of my motel room and I drunkenly dig through my pocket, but it’s made difficult by Dean grabbing me by the waist and pressing me against the wall next to the door.

“Dean, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can’t…mmmm...I can’t get to my key.” His teeth graze my throat, right at my pulse, and I nearly melt. I can feel him smiling against me and I smack his arm. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” He pulls back and lets me finally pull the key free, watching in amusement as I fumble it into the lock. “Know what else I know?”

I look back at him as the door swings open, “What?”

“I’m damn lucky we decided to stop in Omaha.” He picks me up and carries me into the room, slamming the door shut behind us with his foot.

He isn't the only lucky one.

Now…

It's the beeping that gets me, the incessant dinging of machines, whirring sounds and footsteps, and the never ending barrage of announcements over the intercom system that finally pulls me out of what feels like a coma. Then the smell takes over; a suffocating cloud of cleaners and sanitizers that I only ever encounter in hospitals.

My eyes slowly open to see a blurry form sitting in the chair next to me, chin against his chest as he breathes slowly in and out, the cadence making it obvious he's asleep. Sunlight is creeping through the long, vertical blinds, and the television is turned to some daytime talk show rerun.

“Oh, you're awake!” I roll my head towards the door and see a smiling nurse walk through it and watch as she checks whatever machines I'm hooked to. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Sorry…” I don't know what else to say.

“Aww, honey, you don't need to be sorry. I'm just glad to see you're awake. I think he will be, too. He's refused to leave this entire time. Not even the threat of a security escort seemed to phase him.”

I look back over at Dean, who's shifted enough so that his head is tilted against the back of the chair, his mouth hanging open. “That sounds about right.” I struggle to sit up more, and she hurries over.

“Here, let me give you a hand. I'm going to call your doctor, she said she needs to have a little chat with you.” Her face falls slightly as she smooths out the blanket, then she clears her throat and suddenly the smile is back, “I'll be right back.”

“Wait…”

She turns to look at me, “Yes?”

“How long have I been out?”

Her smile disappears again and a crease appears between her brows, “Four days.” She disappears around the corner quickly as if she wants to avoid any other questions and I sigh. Four days.

I grab for the remote, but for a second it's like my hands forget how to do their job, like my brain isn't connected to them, so I juggle it for a second before it slips out of my hand and hits the floor with a crash. Dean jerks upright in his chair.

“What?! What the hell?” It takes a minute for his brain to register where he is and what made the noise, and I watch his eyes come into focus as he stares at me. “You're awake.”

“Yea…” I can feel tubing pressing against my nose and I reach up to pull it off. Dean leans over and puts his hand over mine, gently pushing my hand down to the bed.

“Leave it, they just got you stable enough to use that instead of a mask.” He leans back and watches me, but stays quiet. He looks like he’s thinking about what to say; I know he has a lot of questions, and I’m afraid of what he’ll ask first. I also wonder what he already knows, and how he’s managed to get in here and stay for such an extended amount of time.

“How’d you manage to not get kicked out?”

“Told ‘em we were married, that we were on our honeymoon.”

I would laugh, but I know it’s going to hurt. Judging by the look on his face, it probably isn’t wise anyway. “What about Sam?”

“Told ‘em he lives nearby and that we were visiting him. He’s getting coffee right now.” He crosses his arms, “It was a little harder to explain all the bruises, and why you were pumped full of painkillers before you got here. And the massive amount of blood you were coughing up, see that was the hardest one, because they just assume a husband would know his wife’s medical history.”

“Well, we aren’t actually married-”

“Nope, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and the look of betrayal on his face makes it incredibly hard to look him in the eye. “We are family, Y/N. I get that maybe I want more than that, and that you aren't ready for it. That's fine, but you are still my family. We are supposed to take care of each other. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and you lying about this...it could have gotten any of us killed. You realize this, right? I should have realized at the hotel something was wrong...I should know the difference between lipstick and blood.”

“Dean…”

“Listen, I’m not...I’m not angry. I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I just want to understand why you didn’t think you could trust me with this. Why did you not let us help you?”

“It’s difficult to explain-”

“Hello, Y/N.” I recognize the voice before I even turn to face whoever interrupted me.

“Hey, doc.”

She walks around to the end of the bed, clipboard in hand, and glances over at Dean, “This is your husband?” I swallow nervously; she knows I’m not married. It’s not been that long since I’ve seen her. The look in her eyes is a soft accusation, but when I nod in confirmation, she gives him a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you.” She looks down at the chart and when she looks back up, I can see it on her face. “I think you probably know what I’m going to tell you, but I’m guessing he’d like to know what’s going on, and I think you need to know exactly how bad this is.”

That’s the one thing about her that I like; she’s straightforward, no bullshit. She somehow knows that Dean has no idea what’s going on, and I’m simultaneously impressed and terrified. He was never supposed to know about this. I was going to go out hunter style, a blaze of bloody glory. I was alone. Why didn’t I just stay alone?

“Your cancer has spread. It’s no longer just in one lung and the lymph nodes on that side, it’s in both, which is why you began to cough up so much blood. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Your body is exhausted, and it’s starting to give up. Without treatment…” she trails off and looks at Dean, who looks like he’s about to be sick. “Even with treatment, it will simply be done to keep you comfortable, though it may prolong your life slightly. Without treatment, your time is very limited. I’m...I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but...I chose this. I knew what was going to happen.”

She nods, then gently pats my blanketed leg, “I’m going to go, give you some time to decide.” She looks at Dean one last time, then walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I drop my head back against the pillows and close my eyes. Shit.

“Cancer?” His voice is quiet, but rough with held back tears. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter; I can’t look at him.

“Dean, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Omaha...I didn’t…”

“What are you going to do?” I look at him sharply, but he’s looking down at his hands instead of me.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up, and his eyes are even brighter from the tears he’s fighting against. It hurts more than anything else he could even say. “Are you going to do treatment, or no?”

I swallow thickly, knowing he’s not going to like the answer. I don’t like the answer, but it’s for the best. “I’m tired, Dean. I’m tired and broken, and I can’t drag this out longer. I just can’t. I don’t want to waste away in some bed somewhere, knowing that I’m just putting off the inevitable. I want to go home...I want to spend time with you and Sam, I want to save as many people as I can before it’s over. I just...I wanna go home.”

He blinks, then rubs a palm roughly against his eyes as he stands up, “Okay, well, let’s bust you out of here then. I’m gonna go talk to the nurse. I’ll...I’ll be back to get you. If Sammy comes back while I’m gone, let him know where I went.” He walks out of the room without another word.

I lay back and close my eyes, and I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Read Part 5 HERE.

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[tigresjumeaux]

As per the request of @my-insanity-is-irrelevant​, here goes nothing. Not even gonna reblog the ask meme post bc I’m literally answering every question rip

1. What is you middle name? Marie. #basic 2. How old are you? 19. 3. When is your birthday? May 31.  4. What is your zodiac sign? Gemini. I’m actually two people and they’re both snakes.  5. What is your favorite color? I honestly don’t have one, they all have their perks. I do tend to favor cooler and darker colors tho 6. What’s your lucky number? 7 and 9, but odd numbers tend to treat me nicely in general.  7. Do you have any pets? Three! A Boxer named Buster, and two 14 y/o cats named Asheley and Nadia. Here’s hoping for many more in the future. :’) 8. Where are you from? Born in Seattle, raised in the greater St. Louis area, and going to school in Muncie, IN.  9. How tall are you? 5′6″ 10. What shoe size are you? 8 in American women’s size. 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Oh lord. Probably like 15 because I refuse to get rid of any, but I only wear like 4. 12. What was your last dream about? Roller coasters and an ex being nasty. DJ Khaled was there.  13. What talents do you have? I’m fairly good at reading people, and also drawing. I’m also a quick learner, if that counts as a talent? 14. Are you psychic in any way? I wish. I have a weird force of karma that seems to follow the people who have hurt me around, but that could be coincidence. I’ve helped check other people’s energies (as well as my own) before, but my knowledge is limited and I don’t think I have the sense of self to pursue that right now. 15. Favorite song? At no point in my life have I had just one, but “Fury” by Muse and “Love is Mystical” by the Cold War Kids are up there right now.  16. Favorite movie? Wonder Woman was so, so good, y’all. I also like  17. Who would be your ideal partner? daisy ridley right now, my standards are both really low and really high. Just...someone I get along with and who gives a rat’s ass?  18. Do you want children? I think I might, yeah. Depends on who I end up with, but I like the idea of making small humans and showing them how the world works. Teaching others has always helped me figure shit out, anyway.  19. Do you want a church wedding? nooooo thank you 20. Are you religious? Not in the sense that I participate in organized religion, but I do believe in aspects of many different religions. I’m particularly fond of reincarnation. 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? I had to have my chin stitched up when I was like, 3. And also I had my tonsils out at 10.  22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.  23. Have you ever met any celebrities? I met Paramore the summer before my junior year, and I met Jensen, Jared, and Misha from SPN my senior year! 24. Baths or showers? Showers. 25. What color socks are you wearing? au naturale i’m barefoot bitches 26. Have you ever been famous? one time i did a drawing and it got 100 notes 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? noooooo maybe C-list at most 28. What type of music do you like? I’ll listen to just about anything, but I lean towards alt rock, metal, punk, some indie if it isn’t too hippie-ish. 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? nah 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Like...7?  31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my stomach with my top half wrapped around a pillow or a blanket.  32. How big is your house? Two-story, four bedrooms. Parents raised three wild kiddos here 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? A smoothie or a sandwich when I’m actually up in time.  34. Have you ever fired a gun? No, but I’d like to at least try. 35. Have you ever tried archery? yes and i ain’t no katniss 36. Favorite clean word? Maverick (that’s one of many) 37. Favorite swear word? Fuck. it’s just so versatile 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 60 hours or so 39. Do you have any scars? On my heels, chin, thighs, hips, and over my wristbones. I’m clumsy, have pets, and have self-harmed. 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? An anon flirted w me on Tumblr but it was someone in my French class, lel. Wasn’t a secret for too long. 41. Are you a good liar? White lies, yes. Big lies, noooo. 42. Are you a good judge of character? Generally? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Not a whole lot on my own, but I’ll pick up anything I hear regularly. 44. Do you have a strong accent? Not really? I just kinda talk and drop bits of different accents here and there. I don’t think I have that much of a St. Louis accent. 45. What is your favorite accent? I have a soft spot for slight Southern accents. Eastern European and Australian are also awesome.  46. What is your personality type? sad 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? A $120 jacket from Zumiez. It’s HUF brand but I bought it for the wolves on it tbh 48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes and it comes in handy w girlfriends 49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie  50. Left or right handed? Right 51. Are you scared of spiders? I used to, but I’m getting better. They startle me but I’ve carried a wolf spider outside so 52. Favorite food? changes by the hour tbh tho chicken is always good 53. Favorite foreign food? Shepherd’s Pie.  54. Are you a clean or messy person? Clean, but disorganized. My room is cluttered but not like, dirty.  55. Most used phrase? "Oh my god.” 56. Most used word? like 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? depends. not usually over 45 minutes unless I’m getting Fancy.  58. Do you have much of an ego? Not really.  59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Yes. 60. Do you talk to yourself? More than anyone else. 61. Do you sing to yourself? Yes, especially when I can’t hear my own voice. 62. Are you a good singer? N o 63. Biggest Fear? Forgetting and being forgotten. 64. Are you a gossip? drama that don’t involve me is the best drama 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Goodwill Hunting aaaaaa 66. Do you like long or short hair? On myself, defs long. I love pulling it back too much for short.  67. Can you name all 50 states of America? Yep! I 68. Favorite school subject? English. Also psychology.  69. Extrovert or Introvert? Extrovert with trust issues, abandonment issues, and that shuts down a lot. and also clinical depression 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No, but I’ve been snorkeling! 71. What makes you nervous? Anything has the potential to make me nervous, tbh. But not knowing things is The Worst 72. Are you scared of the dark? Oh god yes 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I do when it’s something small. Big mistakes are things you gotta figure out for yourself. 74. Are you ticklish? Less and less over time, tbh.  75. Have you ever started a rumor? Never on purpose. I’ve heard a few things I’ve said get distorted and spread but I try to Cut That Shit Out Quick 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? I was a President of a few clubs in high school, captain of the swim team, and a manager for the track and cross country teams.  77. Have you ever drank underage? Whenever I can, tbh. Not even to get drunk, necessarily, it just tastes good 78. Have you ever done drugs? Only weed with a close friendo of mine. I also may have saved a few narcotics from my wisdom tooth removal for a rainy day 79. Who was your first real crush? My best friend in middle school. That was a doozy.  80. How many piercings do you have? I have doubles in my ears, so 4. I’d like triples and possibly a septum piercing.  81. Can you roll your Rs? Yep! Sometimes I do it by accident when speaking 82. How fast can you type? Not very tbh 83. How fast can you run? That depends on why I’m running. 84. What color is your hair? Dirty blonde. 85. What color are your eyes? Blue-gray. 86. What are you allergic to? Certain kinds of deodorant and also tumblr 87. Do you keep a journal? I mean I scribble down stream of consciousness shit when trying to Cope w things, but I don’t keep one regularly.  88. What do your parents do? Dad’s an engineer, mom’s the HR person for a whackass ad company w fun people 89. Do you like your age? I mean I’d rather be able to legally drink, but I’m a legal adult but it doesn’t feel Real yet so I guess it ain’t all bad 90. What makes you angry? When people are mean for literally no good reason. 91. Do you like your own name? it’s aiight. people trying to pronounce my last name is amusing 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? I like the name Oliver a lot for a guy? But really I guess it’d depend on my what my wife likes 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? dog 94. What are your strengths? I know people and can communicate pretty well, and I’m generally good at being pretty friendly. Also I can swim so if someone throws me in the water the joke is on them 95. What are your weaknesses? Can’t be left alone for long periods of time, relying on one person for everything, and ignoring myself and other friends, compulsive tendencies, and an overall obsessive personality. 96. How did you get your name? Named after my dad’s grandma, iirc. Except Claire instead of Clara.  97. Were your ancestors royalty? I’m sure someone was idk 98. Do you have any scars? didn’t I answer this already 99. Color of your bedspread? Black and white at home, orange and purple in my dorm. 100. Color of your room? Very dark forest green. I like it lots.

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 5X7 the Curious Case of Dean Winchester

O wait I've heard of this one...?

oo nice invocation of them with the apocalypse

ok turns old

ah yes the Mary dying sound

25 year old dying of old age is So Neat tho

ah Bobby!!

Dean...tries

lmAO BOBBY

I love grumpy old man Bobby it's what he deserves

oho Tuesdays?

oOO it sounds like Psych Music

oh it's him but Young, DAMN

D E A N

ah yes the boomer hate my wife thing

WHAT IS XBOX DEAN YOU O L D MAN

ah the LORE

ah yeah he was acting a bit Angrier than normal, he does something

ah he does know doesn't he

heh the 100

damn good job Dean

BOBBY WANTS HIS BEST YEARS BACK UH OH

n O O HE LOST

"you IDIOT" hahahaha

you hypocrite

oh damn but he's FUN

the "ok but disclaimer" was fun

man witch

"make it 50" you're an idiot

I love you idiots

save Bobby first nice nice

ooo NICE visuals

AHAHAHAH OLD DEAN

PALPATINE

JOHN MCAIN

SAM IS ENJOYING THIS AHAHAHA

"shut up Sam" DFAPJAPHAHAHA

lmAO DEAN IS O L D

n o CHEESEBRUGER

HE'S WEARING THE SAME THING AHAHA

yoU'RE OLD

ok no this is fucking hilarious actually

just STEALS HIS CAR

Dean likes him

I get like...Loki and Tony vibes(tho not shipped, I don't know what they're like shipped)

F L O O R 2 AHAHAHA

H'ES ALREADY WINDED

thE FUCKING JAZZ MUSIC

thE FUCKING CATARACTS

ah sh's got magic

bud ur od

dammit 900 year old sexy witch is so MUCH FUN

HE GAVE SAM AN STD OH MY GOD

I’m good, Bobby’s better, we both lost I liked that

“when you get to be our age” “you’re thirty Dean” LMAO

oh BOBBY COMING TO TERMS WITH HIS MORTALITY

He feels old and washed up and he wants a way out

Dean is like…yeah I understand

gf gives them the reversal?? what?

he cursed her to I think?

god I wish I know how to play poker well

ah so he always wins, or he controls the game, I see

It was for Sam’s benefit

Dean’s taking this well

their bitchy banter is so funny

Ah Sam Supremacy right here we go hi kripke

hey maybe that’s why I don’t like him, I don’t like being told this

show don’t tell etc

ahh the hair hiding shadow, neat

a H THEY’RE STALLING HIM! GOOD FINALLY SOME FUCKING EMOTION IN THIS ARBY’S

DNA…oH THE SETUP WITH THE TOOTHPICK

the fucking occult symbols in the back of an Alley is Good

ah he caught them

whaT IS WITH THE GODDAMN NECKLACE

oh goody more stairSS

O H HE BLUFFED HIM

what happened to Dean??

boy the dependence thing is so fucked man

…does he want the game…have some modicum of fairness?

“there’s poker and then there’s suicide” what was he trying to accomplish?

she’s crying

aw Sam…?

Sam + Witches is good actually

oh he wON

AND HE CASHED them in for DEAN “with pleasure”

THE LIL HEEL TAP

oh she outlived her daughter and she hates it

she doesn’t want to live forever oh WOW

wait…was..the plot of this one entirely driven by the lady witch and her choices?

like she wasn’t given a name but STILL

and SHE DIES!

“just lucky” oh fuck…he outwitched him didn’t he

aW DEAN’S TERRIBLE APOLOGY

THE LIL LIP TWITCH THING HE DOES

like an aborted cocky smilE HE DOES WHEN HE’S DESPERATLEY TRYING TO HIDE/WANTS TO

“you’re not useless” oh my god

the literal only way he can say I love you is “I need you”

…this isn’t important at all I promise

he’s like so gruffly trying to get through this speech

and sitting down so they’re eye to eye

fuck me I’m tearing up

no but like he saw it needed to be said, and he said it! I’m so proud! of him!

insert Olivia Rodrigo Hope ur ok in there

and Bobby understood, said Thanks, then poked fun because Emotionsf dsiaoh;sdio

HE WAS TEARING UP

DEAN’S SMILE AT THE END

1 Witch antagonist! ok but I feel like Patrick is such a good case study in a complex but fun villain that is sympathetic, but still clearly the villain! Like it’s very clear he has a moral code(He’ll play some people, he won’t others, he wants an Actual Game, but for what? isn’t it implied he’s in control at all times?) but we’re never actually told what it is, or how it works. Like he’s good at reading people(makes sense he’d pick poker), he clearly wants connection(he wanted the lady witch with him? he doesn’t want to be alone? He clearly knows about the people he’s playing(mentioned the bar mitzvah)(Although was that for Sam’s benefit? did he know that before)) Like we don’t know SHIT about his tragic backstory, but he’s interesting and compelling enough that it literally doesn’t fucking matter. This episode is great, it gives me brainworms, I wanna watch it again

2 lady witch! Ok but…the entire plot was driven by her! She wanted the magic gone due to her own selfish reasons, but it was also like…painted as the objectively right thing to do! all she wanted was not to be immortal anymore, but she didn’t wan to take a central role? The locket makes you think that she’s got some kind of control she’s under(especially coupled with a semi ironic “I look good for my age”), but no, it’s he daughter she had to bury, which would probably fuck up any parent. Like would it be nice to have a name? yes! but she was still cool!!

3 DEAN!! MOTHERFUCKER ACTUALLY COMMUNICATED! Like he clearly understood Bobby’s shit even before, he sat down and he actually tried to feeling! He clearly was super uncomfy with it, but he knew someone had to say it and since no one else was going to, he ended up being the emotionally mature one and! it was great to see!! Was he terrible? YES! it was a godawful apology but Bobby saw what he was trying to say and that seemed to matter to him. plus his lil heel click was absolutely adorable, he was very happy to be younger again. Actually, speaking of, him being old was so fucking funny

4 sam the witch?? Ok listen…they clearly set it up that Sam did Something to win. And we know he has psychic powers, so I assume he outwitched them. He threw his own powers in the ring, and since he’s the antichrist, they worked. It was a subtle use of power, and that’s the head canon I’m going with ok(they clearly set up that he’s emotional, and while him not being read I think is meant to be as like…he ends up being Really Good at Poker cuz he’s a Man, I think it’s more he scrambled Patrick a little bit, due to the powers I swear it would be so good)

like the whole thing about him just being Innately the Hero was annoying, but this lil subtle thing? good! good! I like that!

Listen I like having some shit for interpretation, it helps the Unparalleled Media Experience

5 BOBBY! No but bobby getting to actually have to go through the stages of grief? Bobby getting time to shine as a character, wanting to die or be useful and being told that no, he is useful still(even as fUCKING TERRIBLY AS DEAN DID IT OH MY GOD DUDE). his lil tear up close up at the end that’s open to interpretation? god that was good. Like it feels as if they’re not brushing off what happened to him as they did with Dean going to hell, and it’s So interesting, especially cuz Sam had little reaction, but Dean tried to Feeling about it and it was so good

6 lil obligatory destiel. ok listen..this episode establishes that Dean can only say I love you as “i need you” this will Totally Not Come Back Later I Promise Wink Wink.

7 look the lore of this was fun, the villain was fun(patrick and Dean gave me Dean and Tony vibes a lil, I thought that was neat), the imagery was top notch(occult and fire in an alley? good shit), and him being old was SO FUCKING FUNNY “when you get to be our age” “you’re 30 Dean”

godDAMN THAT WAS GREAT

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 5X19 Hammer of the Gods

dear LORD I ate too much

ok we're back on track whee

oho creepy plant

this poor guys is DEAD

oh it's an angel?

ooo a nice motel?

boy they look so wrecked haha

ah the PIE

there's something off here, right?

RIGHT?

Sam's not sleeping either oof

"night off" uh are YOU SURE aBOUT THAT

"I'm young at heart" HAHA

well that was quite the THUNK

"the elysian fields" wait

right so they're greek

basically a nice garden, it's like the afterlife

this feels like that one hotel in percy jackson

the same nick as Dean hm

heh the disappearing elephant

ah of course she's evil

~you can check out anytime you like BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE~~

"please be tomato soup" *sees eyeballs*

the unison grimace was fun

ah yes the ages old "somebody behind me"

oh lovely it's gods

there's NO Way this goes poorly

"gods?" AHAH

oh yeah you're screwed

ah they don't want the apocalypse either, because they get fucked over too

THEY ARGUE OVER WHO'S APOCALYPSE IS RIGHT AHAHAHA

that was a good effort guys

you try reasoning with angels just try it

GABRIEL!!!

HE SHUTS THEM UP SO HE CAN DO THE TALKING I LOVE HIM

Baldur..OH THE GUY HE KILLED

THEY'RE SO SHOOKEN UP OH MY GOD AHAHA

AHAHAAH

Gabriel is such a little shit

him and Dean are fun

"I don't care" ha sure

OH WAIT T H A T ' S KALI?? THAT'S THE KALI FROM THE FANFICS??

KALI THE D E S T R O Y E R ?

yeah ok no she's SO hot

ah he's trying to save her

ooo LEVERAGE

boy they're so chill with him

aw Gabe gets his romance

ah she got him Damn

the GHOSTFACERS? WHAT THE F UC CK?

is this..Gabriel processing? what the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS W H A T

WAS IT AN ACTUAL CW AD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EPISODE?

Gabriel...oh god ur so screwed

all of you are so screwed

"you're the youngest religion, what do you mean you're tearing the world apart"

NO

NO GABRIEL NO

SAM IS PANICKING TOO

yeah this is clearly supposed to be the end

ah summon into the vessel and then kill ok

hey at least he got them out

GABRIEL!! HE'S ALIVE

I am way too attached to this fucker

GABRIEL AND DEAN! SAME COPING MECHANISMS!

"they're your family" o p e

oh there's lucifer

boy he does NOT Look good

...of course he doesn't like the pagans

jesus christ Lucifer is actually iNCREDIBLY THREATENING

rights are taken not given huh

oh jesus Baldur's fucking dead

KALI! FIRE POWER!

GABRIEL

L U C Y

I love squad

you puritanical BASTARD

"I love you but BOY DO YOU SUCK"

..that'S DEAN'S LINE HOLY SHIT

the "they're flawed but a lot of them try to do better instead of covering it up" is SO COOL

"I'm loyal to people" YES GET EM GABRIEL

"don't make me do this" "no one makes us do anything"

no NO NO COME ON NOT AGAIN

NO THE WINGS

no THAT MEANS IT WORKED NO BUT HE COMES BACK?

THERE ARE FIVE MORE MINUTES LEFT?

oh

oh it's Gabriel's recorded DVD version

w h y

he hid it

"if you're watching this I'm dead" and it doesn't even feel like that cliche

THE RINGS A H

he gives them the intel

THEIR FACES

pestilence and death huh

Death's the big boss so it's pestilence next

new flu virus huh

yeah this one isn't gonna be pretty huh

e w

his license plate is sick n tired

lovely

ok

1. GABRIEL and Dean! Ok so I feel like they have similar responses to family, or something like that. Like Dean's a lot better at understanding the dealing with complicated relationships with family members, and both mask it with jokes and they both care about a lot of people but are bad at expressing it. Like ok, back to Dean's charisma. He's got like...no social skills, but he has faith in...people? the concept of family? and that wins people over. It got Gabriel to repeat the words and stand up to his family at least. (also yeah could be lazy writing but I feel like they're written to be similar on purpose?)

2. religions. Ok yeah, I feel like there's something to be said about the other religions, and about how judeo-christianity kinda tried to take everything over, and how there's a lot of stuff still there. Hell, you can make everything a Tulpa and say that they're no longer as believed in so that's why they're so weak. And they clung to the vestiges of their power, while the other guys managed to get ahold of power and Spread.

...huh that "take power" line really escalates huh.

3. I feel like siblings in there. Like that idea of "I love you but you SUCK." the sibling bickering, the "grow up." like...I don't know, that death scene was painful, and a lot of it feels(is) sibling rivalry. Like that's what pushed the angels to this, but since they refuse to accept that they can get better, they never change. I think that was Gabriel's point.

4. something about the horsemen. Like this is just a classic Chekov's gun thing, but also the way they've stylized every horseman is...like Very Supernatural, but it's interesting. Like it's very clear what they're doing and I can even see the good omens inspiration(red vehicle for War is the best example) but it's interesting to see how the vibe of the show impacts their visual style. Because they're there to be antagonists and not much else, so it's vibe we go for I think.

5. GABRIEL. I LOVE THIS CHARACTER! TRICKSTER ARCHETYPE THAT KEEPS RUNNING AWAY! HE HAS ALL THESE IDENTITIES! HE EVENTUALLY EMBRACES THE OTHERS BECAUSE THEY TRY AND CHANGE AND ADAPT! HE STANDS UP TO HIS BROTHER! TELLS HIM TO GROW UP! TELLS SAM AND DEAN INTEL AND GIVES THEM A CLEAR GOAL TO FOLLOW THE REST OF THE SEASON WHEN THEY HAD NO PURPOSE! GODDAMN I L O V E GABRIEL!

6. The way they weren't able to deal with the pagans at ALL, and how they panicked, and the cool as hell visuals with the name tags. God I want more pagan imagery, that shit was COOL, and it makes sense! all these different cultures in America, where are the pagans? and then of course they got taken over because apocalypse

also funny, this episode was funny

actually

7. you can tell this was the planned final season. Gabriel dying, the pagans being introduced to establish stakes, the just...sheer...done-ness of the characters. Everything's being wrapped up in it's own way. Also, it makes me sad we didn't get any before this. There's so much stuff there.

EDIT: OK I FIGURED OUT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO SAY WITH THE PAGANS!

Other than like…the same reason for Dean and Sam, and then ig cas but that’s mostly daddy issues, we don’t have any non nebulous ideas as to why apocalypse bad. We see all the angels give their two cents, and all with varying degrees of belief in that cause(or just going absolutely batshit), and then here we had the pagans(and Gabriel) giving clear, tangible reasons as to why not, they had their own two cents to give, and they were their own form of compelling/washed up. Like…one of them! Maybe kali shows back up again! They were a new perspective, that clearly said no apocalypse, like Gabriel but slightly not! It would have been cool!! They had an interesting plot that ties in with the themes of abandonment, and there wasn’t enough in there! More Gabriel and the pagans would have been Epic!!

This is incoherent I'm sorry