#spn banter

[slytherintothedms]

i have finally reached fan fiction (s10x05), which is literally the episode that made me bite the bullet and watch spn after seeing it online for literally my entire time on the internet

[notsoheadless]

[soulmates-for-real-tranquility]

Spn Indy 2024

I don't understand the joke about 'stirring a few roots' 🥲 but that hardly matters when there's such cuteness following it 🥹🥰

[monsterfuckermilligan]

hc that the only people that think michael is funny are adam………and lucifer

[constantcrisis19]

Loose Lips Sink Ships - Part 1

Dean Winchester x GN S/O

AN: Hey guys! I know that I disappeared for a bit, but I promise that I'm still alive and kicking! I've just been really consumed by the SoapGhost fics that I've been writing/planning for ao3 and that made it hard for me to find time to write for Tumblr in between irl things when all of my free time seemed to be dedicated to COD. But I finally decided to just sit down and work on one of my numerous WIP's which led to me cranking this bad boy out! Hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,118

You moved your hands out of your jacket pocket, revealing your well-loved wallet that you’d had for years, and pulled the card with your current alias printed onto it out of its assigned slot in a practiced motion. 

You tapped the chip against the screen of the card reader in order to pay for the obscenely greasy food that you’d ordered for yourself and Dean –who you had left fast asleep in your shared motel room– watching with a keen eye as the payment processed and then was accepted with a little innocuous green check mark, the receipt printing with a soft whir.

You startled a little as a phone suddenly began to ring, the tune echoing loudly in the store, and it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it was actually your cell that was going off, your free hand –which wasn’t currently juggling both your card and wallet– darted down to the back pocket of your jeans in order to collect the device with a sheepish smile.

You swiped your thumb across the screen and answered the phone without looking at the caller ID, quickly wedging the device between your ear and shoulder in order to take the receipt that the bored looking cashier was impatiently holding out toward you with your newly freed hand.

“Hey, where the hell did you run off to?” Dean was already talking before you could even manage to get a greeting out, his voice rough in a way that it only was immediately after waking up, which told you that he most likely called after rousing from sleep and noticing that you were no longer in the motel with him.

“Just figured that I’d treat your lazy ass to some breakfast since you didn’t look like you were getting up anytime soon.” You said as you took the long strip of paper from the cashier with a small nod of thanks before stepping off to the side in order to make way for the next customer to step forward and be assisted, folding up the receipt and carelessly cramming it into your wallet before shoving it back into your jeans.

You had wanted to let Dean sleep in for once since it was technically your fault that you were both up so late last night, the two of you having been all wound up after running around all day asking anyone and everyone about the suspicious deaths that had been happening around town only to come up with fuck all, so you and Dean had decided to dispel all that pent up energy and frustration by testing Dean’s so-called ‘endless stamina’ that he constantly bragged about.

Needless to say, you had put him through the wringer and managed to come out the other side a little less worse for wear than Dean had.

You settled in with your phone now comfortably resting against the side of your head as you waited for your order to be called, and you bit your lip in an attempt to repress the love-sick smile that wanted to overtake your neutral expression when you heard the telltale shift of blankets over the line. 

You could see Dean carelessly sprawl his limbs out across the bed in your mind's eye, your fingers twitching with the urge to brush your fingers through his –no doubt– adorable bedhead, the impulse always bubbling up without fail when you saw his hair sticking up at all sorts of odd angles.

“Rough night?” You asked, your voice practically dripping with faux-concern as you idly watched the people milling about the pop fountain, and Dean let loose a distinctly unattractive snort that had a smug grin spreading across your lips, your salacious smile earning you a dirty look from a woman who had just finished filling a large cup with cola that you unfortunately just so happened to make eye contact with.

“You’d know.” Dean groused, the sound of him moving about restlessly nearly drowning out his petulant response as he heaved himself upright with a groan that had him sounding like he was an old man rather than a spry twenty-six year old, and you winced in sympathy.

As hunters, your line of work was unforgiving and you yourself were subject to the various aches and pains that came from such a physically demanding job on more than one occasion.

“You order yet?” Dean asked suddenly and you blinked rapidly, his voice abruptly pulling you from the aimless staring that you’d been unknowingly doing as you recalled how stiff and sore you were when you woke up this morning. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, that was definitely a byproduct of last night's rigorous activities rather than having to fight for your life against some bloodthirsty creature or another for once, which was admittedly a nice change of pace.

“Yup. Got you a bacon breakfast burrito, hash browns, and a slice of cherry pie.” You replied with a wide grin, a bark of laughter erupting from your chest and startling the few people standing near you when Dean let out a truly sinful moan of appreciation.

“I love you so fucking much.” Dean declared, the mattress springs creaking as he pushed to his feet and walked across the small room before clicking on a lightswitch, his voice taking on a distinct echo as he entered the borderline claustrophobic motel bathroom.

“I know.” You said smugly before suddenly remembering the woman that you had run into on your way to the restaurant, causing you to be out longer than you’d originally intended, which was the whole reason why you were back with breakfast before Dean woke up. 

“Also, while I was out, I happened to run into a friend of the ex-wife of the last victim and I may have found a lead on this case.” You stated after briefly glancing around and taking a couple of steps back in order to make sure that no one would be overhearing your conversation.

The most that you’d been able to get out of the shell-shocked woman when you and Dean had went to interrogate her the previous day was that her ex-husband had broken into the house while she was home alone and, after saying some shit that made no sense at all whatsoever, had dropped dead right there in the dining room before she could even process what had happened.

And that wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened, the person before that had slumped over dead in a church confessional booth after saying about three words to the priest and the one before that had just randomly collapsed to the ground in the middle of a crosswalk after angrily yelling at a reckless driver that had almost ran her over.

“Alright, hit me.” Dean said, sounding much more awake now but, before you could say a word, one of the employees called out your order number over the general chatter of the restaurant. You snapped to attention, muttering a quick warning to Dean that the food was done and you were gonna go grab it, before moving forward and maneuvering your way through the small crowd that had accumulated between you and the front desk.

You took the grease-stained brown paper bag with a grateful smile and a polite nod before turning on your heel in order to make your way over to the exit. You shamelessly used your foot to bully the door open –since your hands were full– before stepping outside and squinting when the sun made your eyes ache, unused to the intense brightness after having spent so much time under the fluorescent lights that they had installed indoors.

“As I was saying, apparently there’s an old legend–” You began as you trotted over to the nearby sidewalk in order to begin the long walk back to the motel, only to be almost immediately interrupted by Dean.

“There always is.” Dean muttered to himself through a muffled yawn, but you expertly ignored him –a talent that had been born from being around the older Winchester for several years– and continued on as if he had never even uttered a word.

“–that a witch used to terrorize the area way back when this place used to be just a tiny trading town and, considering that there is definitely some kind of curse involved here, I figured that a witch –if not the very same witch from the story– is most likely our culprit rather than a cursed object, like we initially suspected.” You continued explaining your findings, lifting a hand to wave at the driver of a pick up that had slowed to a stop and motioned to the street in front of them, allowing you to quickly jog across the crosswalk.

“Fucking witches man.” Dean growled, the deep sound sending the wrong kind of signals to your brain and making your core heat up in anticipation as images of last night came to the forefront of your mind, an overwhelming sense of smug satisfaction blooming in your chest when you recalled the plethora of possessive marks that you’d shamelessly left all over his body.

The deafening blare of a car horn unceremoniously yanked you from your internal musings and you gave Dean a noncommital hum as your gaze scanned over the street in an effort to find the origin of the noise, pausing your search and freezing mid step when you noticed a man and a woman standing stock still on the other side of the busy road, both of them just staring at you as passersby gave them a wide berth.

“Hello? You still there?” You heard Dean’s voice as he called out over the phone, but your attention was firmly locked onto the pair on the opposite sidewalk who were very openly watching you with an intensity that made your gut churn, your eyes widening when you made the mistake of making eye contact with the woman and she shot you a mean grin.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just– There’s a man and a woman staring at me… and I have a feeling that they’re not coming over here for a friendly chat.” You relayed warily as the two finally moved, the woman taking the lead as they stepped off the curb and began making their way across the road toward you. 

And, no sooner than the words had left your mouth, you heard the telltale sound of Dean grabbing his keys and jacket before the rhythmic thump of rapid footsteps and the heavy slam of a door signaled his rushed exit from the motel room, the relative silence of the room being replaced by the whistle of the wind and general bustle of the city as Dean climbed into the Impala.

“Don’t hang up and don’t move, I’m coming to you.” Dean snapped furiously –though you didn’t take his harsh tone to heart since you knew that he was just worried– and you winced when you heard the deafening squeal of tires on asphalt from Dean’s end of the line, the commotion promptly being followed by a flurry of irritated honking as he drove like a mad man.

“The not moving thing probably won’t be an option, but you can access my location from your own phone and use that to track my movements. I’ll keep the call connected if I can.” You said quickly before acting as if you dropped the call and stashing your cell into the right pocket of your jacket moments before the woman came to a halt about a foot away from you, her companion not too far behind.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive my rudeness, it’s been awhile since I’ve come across a hunter. Especially one who is brave or stupid enough to travel with someone as infamous and recognizable as a Winchester.” The woman –who you assumed was in charge– greeted with faux-remorse, and you swallowed nervously as her red lips stretched into a wide smile that showed off too many teeth to be strictly friendly.

You scrambled for something to focus on as you began to panic at the realization that the mystery woman –who you strongly suspected was the very witch that you’d been looking for– not only knew who you were but also why you were there, your brain stupidly choosing to latch onto the fact that the pair were going to cause you to be delayed even longer, which meant that it was becoming more than likely that your food was going to be stone cold by the time you made it back to the motel.

If you managed to come out of the confrontation alive, that is.

[ardentpoop]

[angelsdean]

mm yea rewatching eps where meg interacts with cas just reminds me of my initial thoughts and feelings re: megstiel from the first time i watched spn which is that meg is just. flirting to be a nuisance and push buttons but there's no real feelings behind it until *maybe* later in like s8 and even then it's more just a playful fondness. and cas' response to her flirting ranges from open disdain to disinterest to playing along to use her to eventually playing along bc they're both in that *fond* of each other state but like, it's always been apparent to me that there's no real attraction / romantic or sexual feelings behind their antics. it's just, banter. (and later when meg catches on to the destiel of it all she is def pushing buttons to purposely make dean squirm)

[monstermoviedean]

I love crowley i love love love crowley he is everything

[mmaeeve]

daily dean quote #166/366:

“do i ever want you to drive?”

- season 13, episode 2, the rising son

[incorrectspnforfun]

Dean: You see how I can’t scan myself? It’s ‘cause I’m priceless. Sam: Or you’re not worth anything. Dean: …

[imonmysupernaturalbullshitagain]

i need more sastiel where castiel is just straight up rude to sam for no reason and sam is bitchy back

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Yeah, sure I guess, Google Docs.

[notsoheadless]

[420technoblazeit]

the thing is, right. the thing is i can't think of a single show that wouldn't greatly benefit from having a bitchy middle aged demon who occasionally features in episodes to make fun of/flirt with the protagonists and make morally questionable decisions to help them. which is what elevates late show supernatural from a trashy tv show to a GREAT trashy tv show

[beachboysnatural]

Why didn’t we get an episode where Dean and Cas watch movies in the bunker as a B plot while Sam and Eileen do the regular case A plot

[mlobsters]

supernatural s6e13 unforgiven (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)

flashback soulless!sam is just beating the shit out of this cop. grandpa. really. just gonna let that go too huh

(looks like the black desktop background is here to stay)

he looks so young in his silly little suit and bright lighting with his new(er) hair. and yes the little joke about how tall sam was endearing

DEAN And how would you... characterize their relationship?

NICOLE'S ROOMMATE Relationship? No, they weren't having a --

DEAN just the -- the -- the tone or the nature of their conversation.

NICOLE'S ROOMMATE Well... loud. And... athletic.

he went on a little face journey there

here i thought i'd seen the last of the guys having problems with the law, that particular variety of conflict stresses me out. and this time, robosam really fucked up and now our sam has to deal with it? agh

i've been reading this fic that focuses a lot more on kind of lingering effects of trauma that the guys have been through and just now watching sam have this very impassioned conversation with the lady that leads to her unlocking the cell he's in, got me thinking about like. changing gears so quickly from robosam to regular sam, i'm watching him waiting for the con. and i wonder if dean would catch himself having similar thoughts

so soulless managed to bang 5 ladies in this little town on a job. that seems... logistically challenging

(robo)SAM Well, Samuel wasn't really around when I was a kid. We have more of a, uh, business relationship.

BRENNA Uh, do you have any other family?

(robo)SAM Family just slows you down.

he was sweating after that flashback. i mean, objectively terrifying having sudden intrusive memories of an event you don't remember and with yourself being so cold and cruel.

(wiki) Sam and Samuel use the aliases "Roark and Wynand." Sam's alias (H. Roark) is a reference to the main character—Howard Roark—in Ayn Rand's novel The Fountainhead which embodied the philosophy of objectivism, where individual self-interest was held as the purpose of one's life (and so it is interesting that this is associated with soulless Sam). Samuel's alias Wynand refers to Gail Wynand, another character in the book.

oh my god that's hilarious. it is ~interesting~ supernaturalwiki 😂

i adjusted the lighting on this because it was so dark and the quality is laughable but anyway again squatting in a place with power and a janky lampshade. i liked dean's plaid, in this shot it looks more like black and white plaid which is a little bold for him (but it's more of a subdued blue in better light)

DEAN We are not the only hunters on the planet, okay? We can call Bobby. He and Rufus could come and wrap up.

he makes a good point. give bobby and rufus some quality time together

DEAN Really? You get that every time you scratch that wall, that you are playing Russian roulette?

SAM Dean, I get you're worried, okay? And I know what you think is gonna happen. But you know what? It will or it won't.

i get where dean is coming from but also sam makes a good point that it's gonna happen or not.

DEAN Sam --

SAM --look, I'm starting to think that -- that I might have done some bad stuff here, Dean. And so I don't care if it's dangerous. I have to set things right, 'cause I got a frigging soul now, and -- and it won't let me just walk away. I'm staying here. And I need you to back me

DEAN All right. Why not? Well, let's "memento" this thing, shall we?

(two memento references in as many episodes)

oh the flashbacks got even worse. using this dude as bait for the monster, which clearly went above bait to just plain food. oh, and "mercy" killing them. right. GREAT.

giggling over these weird contacts. it wasn't until after i'd been staring at them entranced for this entire speech that i realized they're probably supposed to be like. another pupil? cuz he's a spider lol 🕷️🕷️🕷️

so he's upset she ignored his sorry and went inside but i was just thinking to myself, well you got her husband killed (again) and kind of killed him (again), it's unforgivable. and then i remembered the episode title. ha ha. queuing up the unforgiven by metallica (love that album, and they totally played this at a middle school dance i attended)

did you sleep on that gross ass bed, samuel winchester

DEAN Sam, you got to understand that all that crap last year -- all of it -- none of it was you.

SAM Let's be crystal clear, okay? It was me.

DEAN Well, can I get you anything?

SAM What are you now, my waitress?

DEAN I'm just trying to make you feel better. Don't be a bitch.

SAM Yeah, I'm fine.

DEAN Yeah, you look fine. All I'm saying is everything's gonna be okay.

SAM I don't know, Dean. If I did this here, then who knows how many oth-

didn't know he was gonna have hell creep in so soon. so i guess they were like well when dean went to hell it was 40 years and we had to make it even worse by breaking his will and him enjoying torturing people. so, how can we make this even worse for sam... hmmm. not only does he get the multiplied years of torture (from what i gleaned it was a lot longer too?) but a bonus year of being a monster topside where he can suffer for feeling guilty about getting people killed etc etc. sam is totally going to win the trauma olympics