#timeline v: devil's trap [ s1 ]

[wantdead]

he hated the pressure of staying quiet, of being forced to sit through some priest preaching over lies, over something dean didn't even believe in. he couldn't recall the last time he had ever been inside a church — if he ever did ... he leaned onto his brother sitting next to him and muttered through gritted teeth, " y'wanna remind me why the fuck we're at a mass right now? " / @ruinedmyself

[wantdead]

"Dude, Zip it." - Alls

" what, and let 'im just talk to you like that?! "

[wantdead]

Places a necklace on his pillow, much like the one she lied about when they met. Slipping in and then slipping out, but he'd know it was from her, even if she didn't sign her name on the note she left underneath it.

dean eyed the strange necklace on his pillow, quick to compare it to the way that brunette girl had described one when she was caught snooping at a crime scene. he thought she was lying about it. " hm ... " he mumbled himself, as he wondered what he should do with it. he didn't have her number to contact her — but he was still in town. he was positive he'd stumble on her in — perhaps at another crime scene.

[wantdead]

" don't touch that. " he spotted her from the corner of his eye snooping around his stuff in the motel room where he stayed. he was starting to have doubts about agreeing to work with her on that job. / @wavrlynatural [ liked for a starter ]

[wantdead]

" — first things first, how do i know y'er the real deal? " if he was going to seek expert advice, he had to make sure he was talking to the right person — a vampire slayer. if his resources were correct, she should be one. / @stcllata [ mina lee ]

[wantdead]

he exhaled, almost forcefully, an amused breath. " y'know, believe it or not, chasing some ghost and saving people ain't just about dad's approval. " he corrected. " sometimes, bein' a hero and doin' the right thing is just as good of an incentive. " he had been waiting to dwell into this argument ; he had even rehearsed it in his head countless times before. for he never had the chance to have it until now.

for @wantdead, from here. ♡

he really hates that smug look on dean's face. the worst part about this, was leaving his brother behind. he didn't want it to be this way. sam wanted dean to come with him. he wanted his father to be proud that he got into stanford, like any normal dad would be. but nothing about his life had ever been normal. ❝ yeah, i did, dean. i'm out. and i'm gonna be out. i'm done with this shit. ❞ he shook his head, jaw set. ❝ you can still come with me. you don't need to waste your life away chasing some ghost just 'cuz dad says you gotta. ❞

[wantdead]

how much longer until we can get out of here ? (Sam!)

head tilted at the stupid question. the answer was clearly 'however long it takes to get answers'. " ... — y'got somewhere you need to be, college boy? "

[wantdead]

" right ... " he muttered, knowing well he didn't want her promise, even though it was on her to keep. because he didn't just want her to listen. given her compassionate spirit, that didn't require much, anyway. he wanted something more — something he'd already known he could never truly have. it was the whisky talking — but it was dean the one letting it lead the conversation. his sober mind would have never dared to confront her the way his inebriated self could... and the beauty of being a functional alcoholic was sober thoughts remaining intact. he took a deep breath, as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts into a coherent confession. " y'know, when sam left t' stanford, i was ... " he shook his head lightly, " well, i felt like shit. " no need to sugarcoat it. " to put it mildly. " he paused, taking his time to get to his point.

✉️ ➡ @tobeblamed, will i ever be good enough?

a concerned frown forms upon her clear forehead, taken aback by dean's random yet heavy emotional dilemma: maybe this was the whisky talking, but lana liked to pride herself in thinking she knew him well enough to know her gut instinct was right. it wasn't just the whisky talking. the brunette sat down on the bar stool next to him, compassion oozing out of her warm gaze, and with a voice sweet like dripping honey, she answers, ❝ you already are, dean. ❞ a soft, genuine smile lingers as she examines his sculptured features, friendly interest motivating her to dig deeper, ❝ where's this coming from? you know you can tell me, right? whatever it is, i'll listen. ❞