#to be clear i know this song is not just about dean and cas

[strawberrryangel]

angel with a shotgun. woah. just like in destiel.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SUMMER’S STELLAR GAZE

SUMMARY : part III of gimme half. on a mini-roadtrip to the bunker for something dean left behind, she decides to test dean’s word and his promises.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit (18+), fluff, Dean isn’t allergic to cats in this universe bc wtf, blowjob, hair pulling, dirty talk, road head, risky business 

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : silverstein song title. so yeah, I love Dean forever and ever actually, just like I wrote in my diary when I was ten. Omniscient POV to reader’s POV like a good ol’ movie. Xxxxxx

Dean sort of wanted to impress her. 

She was a hunter, like him, after all. 

If he showed her the Bunker, he hoped she'd be impressed; by him, by it, he really hoped so. There was a lot about the Bunker that impressed him when he’d gotten there. The dungeon, the showers, the lore, the garage, the kitchen, everything. That was his first thought when Sam asked Dean for some boxes of the kitchen items he’d left behind since they couldn’t bring everything with them. Dean saw the opportunity to show off. 

The past two weeks went by quickly. They were together now. Shared a New Years kiss at the behest of Eileen, Jack, and even tiny, baby Dean. 

Sam and Eileen were like kids with Barbie and Ken dolls, thrilled to make their favourite couple kiss at last. Cas and Jack were stunned at the discovery that two of them hated each other at first, but they were happy to see that Dean was happy.

It all just came together, somehow, after falling apart so messily. Her and Dean. Their lives.

It was natural for her to be around all of them. Dean forgot that it was him she had a problem with at first. It made it easy for Dean and hard for him all at once. They knew her better than he did and she knew them well, too.

They began bonding over hunting stories when he told Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack that she was also a hunter; she'd ask Cas and Jack a dozen questions whenever she could after finding out they were angels—the other, a nephilim. Sometimes, he’d catch a glimpse at Cas’ phone notifications and see what she asks him with a smile on his face. 

They’ve all been hanging out because of the holidays. She stayed with him during the weekends because he asked her to. He met her family, it was terrifying since they just started… dating… but her family was funny and kind to him. It eased his nerves, but they told him they’d heard of him from other hunters. He knew he was safe, hunters mostly liked him and his brother… except for the parts where they were at fault for all the bad stuff. 

Miracle was happier than ever to have his friend back, her Cat, Bubbles. Dean had a feeling Sam and Jack would take Miracle over to her place or maybe Miracle and Bubbles truly still remembered each other. 

Things are better, hotter now that they are together, more than when they were enemies. Dean was just beyond happy that he had her, that they talked about it… sort of. 

“You listen to the same music as my big brother,” she chuckled from beside him, the box of cassette tapes resting on her lap as she riffled through them. Dean smiled, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at her momentarily. 

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back to the road as they drove into the long, wintry, still-green forest that would lead them to the Bunker. 

“Yeah, I grew up on all of this music. My dad even loves Led Zeppelin,” she told him distractedly, staring at the clear plastic box labelled as Led Zeppelin. She shrugged and inserted the cassette tape into the deck of the car, Bonzo’s Montreux playing softly. 

“You get more and more awesome the more I get to know you,” he told her, biting his lip when he looked over at her. She pursed her lips as she smiled, entertained by his flirty, deep voice and his suggestive wink. 

“Awesome?” She smirked, putting the box back into its place. He turned to look at her once more, but he couldn’t look away from the softness and mischief in her eyes the whole time. 

“Perfect?” He offered, glancing away from her, taking in the big green trees he’s already familiar with. “Kissable? Hotter?” He suggested, smiling coquettishly. “Mmm, extra fuckable?” She looked at him through her lashes, her cheeks pink, and her breath unstable. 

Dean shifted in his seat and sat up straight, looking away from her arousing fuck-me gaze with his fingers tightening around the black steering wheel of his heavy car. Heat flooded the area between her legs at his reaction. Her clit pulsed in pace with her heartbeat and she bit her lip. A million ideas streamed through her mind. A million ideas to relieve the need she had to be fucked by Dean once more. 

The tension in the car was nearly as thick as the first night they had sex, it made her breathless, her heart pounded heavily with lust in her chest, and her pussy squeezed around nothing, instantly remembering the sex they had in his garage before they left.

She placed her hand on his thigh and he inhaled sharply, quickly turning to look at her with a deep blush on his face. Dean relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and held it with only one hand, to put one of his hands over hers. She bit her lip and watched the side of his gorgeous face as he guided her hand higher. 

She smiled brightly and lifted her hand beneath his to smack his hand away. He chuckled, taking a quick glance over at her playfulness. 

“You said you’d fuck me anywhere, at any time,” she leaned over slightly, placing her arms on top of the seat, and resting her chin on her crossed arms. He glanced at her, exhaling shakily as she held his gaze through her lashes. “You promised me a lot of things, actually,” she moved her hand away, tracing his jaw with her fingers. His eyes fluttered shut. “Dean…” she murmured, moving her fingers up to his lips, and he opened his eyes before he could swerve too far from the road. “I recall a few things you seemed to really like.” 

She leaned forward suddenly, licking his earlobe mischievously. Dean moaned softly, his eyelids heavy with lust, and his eyes clouded over with arousal. 

“Like making me choke on your cock,” she whispered into his ear, dragging her lips down his neck. He groaned softly and shuddered, squirming as he attempted to focus on driving. “I want you in my mouth, Dean,” she purred, sliding her hand down his chest and stomach slowly, “right here, right now.”

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, lifting his hips up into her hand when she cupped his cock over his jeans. She sucked gently at his pulse, making the faded mark on his neck return. “Yes,” he whispered, biting his lip hard. 

“I love when you get hard for me, baby,” she murmured, squeezing his cock. 

“I need you,” he rasped, “I want to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me.” She laughed softly, unbuckling herself from the seat and then him. He chewed on his lip and focusing on driving as he got closer to the Bunker while she unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips after she unzipped his jeans, allowing her to lower them slightly until his cock was free. 

“You’re aware of how blessed you are, right?” She teased, biting her lip, sliding her fingers up his cock. Dean gasped and then he laughed breathlessly, his dick twitching at her delicate touch. 

“I’m aware of how much you like my dick?” He smiled down at her shyly. She licked her lips, and rolled her eyes at his modesty. She kissed the tip, then gently placed her hand around the base to kiss her way down.

“Have you heard the sounds I make when you fuck me?” She whispered against the velvety skin of his cock. He grunted softly when she flattened her tongue and licked her way back up. “I don’t make those often, by the way,” she said casually, swirling her tongue around the tip. 

“Here I thought you were a good girl,” he breathed out, lowering one hand into her hair, to try and push her down on his cock. She squeezed his cock, jerking her hand up and down quickly, then sucked on the tip hard, causing him to choke on a moan. She pulled away with a loud suckling sound that made him curse under his breath.

“I went over to your place without underwear, and then I asked you to talk dirty as I sucked your dick, and then I begged you to cum inside me. What part of all that made you think I was a good girl?” She lapped the precum that beaded from his tip, her mouth watering at the taste of him. 

“The morning after,” he answered softly, his emerald eyes flickering to hers. She stopped licking his cock momentarily to consider his words, the tenderness in his voice causing her stomach to flutter. It was things like this, his words, his actions… things like that about Dean that aroused her even more. 

She moaned appreciatively, lowering her mouth over his dick, then pulled up almost all the way off, repeating the motion, and then began sucking, and licking. He moaned her name softly, struggling to focus on driving such a heavy car, but she noticed the slower speed. 

She took him deeper into her mouth, gagging slightly when he touched the back of her throat. Dean moaned out a curse, tightening his grip on her hair, pushing her up and down his cock faster. She moaned softly around him, letting him guide her as she sucked her way up his cock, her tongue moving along the underside of his length. Occasionally, her throat constricted around his length as she swallowed. 

His hitched breath made her wetter, throaty groans, and desperate grunts made her clit pulse uncomfortably in her warm dress pants. She reached down to press her fingers against her clit and took him all the way down her throat. His hips bucked upwards and the leather around the wheel squeaked under his tight grip, but he never pulled too roughly on her hair. 

“Holy fuck,” Dean grunted as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock when she got to the leaking tip and sucked the taste of his precum. Then, she began to twist her hand around him, following the path of her mouth up and down, until she heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath the wheels of the car, and the Impala coming to a complete stop. 

Dean relaxed completely as he set the car in park, leaning his head backwards. The sounds of his pleasure and the wet sound of her mouth and throat getting fucked competed for volume. Dean lifted his shirt and gazed down at her, thrusting his hips up faster into her mouth.

She blinked away tears to stare into his eyes, her cheeks and ears burning hot, her jaw and lips sore from taking him. She moaned softly again, letting him push his cock up into her throat, catching the blurred ecstasy on his face. His red lips trapped between white teeth, his freckled cheeks rosy, and his brows furrowed. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he panted, lovingly moving her hair from her pink and wet face. She hummed around him in approval and closed her eyes, focusing on bringing him closer to his climax. Dean’s thrusts began to stutter and he started to get more vocal, arousing her further. “God, I love your mouth,” he whispered, thrusting upwards hard as he came in thick, hot spurts down her throat. “Fuck, yeah,” he moaned, shuddering at the feeling of her swallowing around him. 

Dean pulled her off him despite not finishing, his cum dripping down his cock despite her best efforts to collect everything. That seemed to be the purpose. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with his tongue poking between his teeth, looking both cute and sexy. 

“What?” She asked, and kept tugging at his cock as his cum dribbled down from the slit, and over her hand. She tightened her hold around the heat of him in her wet hand. She bit her wet, swollen lip, and sat up, slowly stopping the strokes of her hand to watch him. 

Dean leaned forward to kiss her all of the sudden, her heart lurching in her chest, the way it always did when he kissed her. He held her jaw, licking her spit and his cum from her lip. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her face closer, meeting her warm tongue with his. She let go of his dick, and smiled against his mouth, before pulling away.

Dean chased her lips, but she pushed his chest roughly so he stayed pressed against the seat, laughing quietly. He smiled leaning forward anyway, his nose brushing against hers, lips agonisingly remaining a few millimetres away from hers. 

“Can we have sex in your old bed?” She whispered, tugging gently at his jacket, her lips brushing against his. He panted against her mouth, whining softly in attempts to make her kiss him. 

“Yes, whatever you want,” he responded quietly. 

She hummed when she kissed Dean once more; a passionate, long, and deep kiss with tongue and teeth that made her needier. She helped readjust him as they made out, a hot and breathy exchange before heading back on the road to the Bunker.

➥ closer than this

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias

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[clairenatural]

hey sorry to ask you but what is the destiel lamppost thing? if u know what it is

Hi anon!!! I wasn't ignoring you I just wanted to be able to sit down and type out the lore.

So "why lamp"/the destiel lamp thing starts with 15x10, The Heroes' Journey, in which Dean and Sam are stripped of the luck/protections that being written as protagonists gives them by Chuck (very meta) and Dean ends up needing cavities filled.

Garth gives him laughing gas for the procedure, during which Dean has a dream of a black and white 50s style dance sequence. It takes place in the bunker and while initially it's Dean dancing with Garth, eventually Garth leaves and Dean runs over to pick up a lamp from the corner of the room to dance with. Here's the whole thing:

But once it's Dean and the lamp, the dance becomes markedly more romantic - he's dancing with the lamp as a partner, not like the tap dancing he and Garth do side-by-side.

Also important to note that they're dancing to "Let's Misbehave," which is about sex and also was written by Cole Porter, who was gay. This is a really good breakdown of the dance itself, the significance of the song and Cole Porter and its connections to old queer Hollywood.

At the end of the episode, Dean sees Bess and Garth dancing in their living room through the window and says "You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be."

This is pretty clearly associating the dream sequence, and Dean dancing with a lamp, as about Dean longing for a partner and therefore the lamp as a stand-in for that partner.

NOW. Meta was written as soon as this episode aired with people linking the lamp to Cas, and there has continued to be much better meta than I can write here - this one is in-depth and connects it to themes across the seasons and Dean's years-long character arc. "Cas is Lamp" even has its own superwiki page.

But besides all the normal meta deancas reasons and the fact that this comes at a time when Dean's character arc had been building both to him wanting to settle down with someone AND that someone being Cas (this is the episode right after The Trap and Dean's "I should have stopped you/of course I forgive you" prayer), Cas (and angels broadly) is associated with light and lamps throughout the series, perhaps most iconically in 4x16.

So, after 15x18, "the lamp thing" was something frequently cited and that we held onto as another thing they'd dropped alluding to (nay, ensuring - because they'd surely somehow have to wrap up Dean's own arc of wanting a partner to settle down with) a happy deancas endgame where Cas is rescued and they live happily ever after.

And then. 15x20 happened. And "why lamp" took off as part of a long list of "if they were just never going to mention Cas again, let alone resolve the confession or this very key part of Dean's story arc of wanting to settle down, why did they include [long list of things that make no sense with the ending we got]." Why lamp has become shorthand for a long list of missing links and loose ends and things that just don't add up. If deancas wasn't going to be the happy endgame, then why lamp. Why did they drop so many clues and work up to a very clear resolution for Dean's character arc if they were just going to drop it. Why lamp. It's one of those things that will haunt us because we will never get an answer. Okay grandma, let's get you to bed. But why lamp.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Vivace

Chapter Twenty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Tiny, Lee, Kevin, Annie, Pamela, Sam, faceless fans and support staff

Word Count: 2900

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, jealousy, grief, musical backstory and hope

A/N: The band played on.

Series Masterlist

You held your breath as Bobby gathered the band backstage. Two dozen roadies, stage crew, and security stilled as he looked past the boys and Pam to their support staff, only Charlie and her team were missing, already in place in the booth. You shivered and waited. Jody’s voice echoed behind the bend thanking the crowd and promising a great show from Phantom Traveler to come. Andy slinked around and continued to snap pictures, despite the glare it earned him anytime Bobby caught the lens pointed toward him. The ragtag group buzzed with excitement and you silently prayed that it would go off without a hitch. 

Finally, Bobby began to speak, “I know a lot of you are nervous about tonight, ‘bout this tour— hell about this band. But it means a lot that y’all signed on for another round of nonsense with these idjits. It means you believe in them, that you’ve got faith they can pull together and get it done. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s not a time to worry, because ain't no other band that can do what these guys do. It’s a time to celebrate. Let’s get out there and fuckin’ rock’n’roll.”

Lee hooted and people cheered, you couldn’t help but clap and shriek along. Then everyone crowded in for the circle of hands and chanted “Phaaaaaantom TRAV-ler!”

The band and crew maneuvered in the dark, letting the interim instrumentals keep the crowd distracted as they set up. You scurried back to where you had left Bela in the wings, under Tiny’s care.

“Everything alright?” Bela asked out of the side of her mouth, shifting in place as she tried to clock Dean amongst the many moving shapes.

“Aces,” you replied, bouncing on the balls of your feet as the crowd started to clap with an increasing beat.

You spotted Sam and Kevin’s silhouettes high five and then Lee strummed a teaser chord. Walkie talkies crackled around you as the all clear was called. You kept an earpiece in, but without much left for you to do, you turned it to the lowest setting besides mute. 

It was go time. 

“Bring ‘em up, Charlie,” Bobby prompted over the line and the Forum erupted. 

Lights and wavelengths of sound shot off in every direction and Phantom Traveler took off.

You wouldn’t have stopped yourself from screaming bloody murder even if you had remembered you were directly beside your very posh best friend and her security detail. 

It was happening. They made it back home.

“Good evening Inglewood!” Dean greeted, pointedly accurate. Plus you could tell he was grinning from where you stood, from just the sway of his head and a glimpse of his profile.

There was no other chit chat, no grand speech thanking them for coming out, it was just the band, the music, and the audience.

They started off with ‘Woman in White’, their first major single and something high energy enough to get people out of their seats. Then on to the B side of their first EP, which was a cult favorite called ‘Playthings’ that featured something affectionately referred to as ‘the beat off’ between Sam and Pam.

But at the time it was written, it was played by Sam and Cas.

Pam did it better.

It was like someone was racing up the stairs or against time itself as the two rhythm setting musicians fought for dominance. The crowd ate it up. And you could tell they both were already dripping sweat by the time the song ended and they tuned it back and finally jumped into their last fateful album.

‘Scarecrow’ was haunted and foreboding, reminiscent of early 90s metal that you knew Dean adored. It was also Cas’ favorite track off that entire album. And Kevin killed the bridge as the keyboard turned into an ancient organ chasing the crows away with the dawn. Charlie even added a cackling Vincent Price at the end that couldn’t be topped.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?!” Lee took the words out of Dean’s mouth, which earned him a kick in the ass. They were having a blast up there and it was infectious.

The crowd roared.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dean bellowed. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’d like to bring somebody out for this next number.”

Shrill ruckus pierced the air, they knew what was coming.

“She’s our very dear friend and we just so happened to convince her to tag along with us this tour. You know her, you love her, please— give a very warm welcome to the incomparable Ms. Annie Hawkins!”

Everyone screamed and stomped, watching as the spotlight followed Annie from the farside of the stage towards the standing mics centerstage.

“Oh, she looks amazing,” Bela spoke for the first time since you’d gotten back. And she wasn’t wrong.

“The girls probably had a blast with her in their dressing room,” you tacked on thoughtfully.

“Her top though,” Bela continued. “I want it.”

You chuckled at Bela’s priorities and quickly got sucked back into what was happening barely thirty feet away.

“You sure you’re ready over there?” Annie teased as Dean adjusted his mic after rushing to set down his guitar.

The crowd laughed in unison.

“I’m ready, do you think they’re ready?” Dean asked coyly, gesturing to the crowd.

All around you camera screens glowed and flashed burst through the darkened arena. Concert security lined the stage and guarded the partitioned areas for the crew and band to navigate the area. Until that moment you really hadn’t been able to pull any single response from the cacophony. You hadn’t been trying anyway. But when Annie goaded Dean a cluster of women in the pit got your attention.

“And here I thought you were out here warming them up for me?” Annie teased.

The crowd loved it, but one catty comment made it feel like you and Bela were right there up on stage with them. “Bela needs to get her man before that cougar gets too cozy up there.”

They eyed your little corner below the VIP suspiciously. You missed whatever Dean said in response, instead watching the women glare and Bela adamantly ignore them in equal measure.

But then the song began. A slow and slinking start reminiscent of Springsteen’s Fire. Which you clocked the first time you heard it, but that was just the intro. The lyrics started up as a quick conversation, a compromise even and then they were harmonizing into the chorus. 

The band hadn’t done many duets, even with such talented singers in their ranks. It wasn’t their style. But this song felt like it had always existed, it was timeless and familiar and really fucking catchy. Annie beamed at Dean when he slipped closer on stage and they belted out the final lines.

It made you feel like they were performing only for you, for their people. It was honest and intimate, but this wasn’t rehearsal or karaoke and the audience would not be forgotten.

Everyone cheered. Even the judgy bitches that kept watching Bela at your side.

Dean hugged Annie and made sure she got the reception she deserved, egging the crowd on and bowing in homage to her talent.

She rolled her eyes, did a snarky curtsy and waved her way back off stage.

“You guys seem to be digging that one. Maybe we could play some more new stuff for y’all tonight?” Lee asked. “I mean— the album isn’t out yet.”

Naturally, the crowd shouted and begged for more.

Bela turned to whisper to you. “They’re not gonna get in trouble for this are they?”

You shook your head. “They’ve got permission to do a few songs until the album is actually out and then they’ll change up the set list to cover more of the new stuff.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, bootlegs always exist, but this way they’re building excitement but not giving away the farm.”

“Lee!” Dean admonished playfully. 

“What?!” Lee spat back, smirking.

“Sam— tell him.”

Sam shook his head, always stoic on stage.

Dean kept up the ruse. “I don’t know if we should. Pamela?”

Pamela thudded the bass drum and hit the crash. 

“Okay! Pammy’s in— Kevo?” Lee kept the momentum going.

And without any warning or time for Kevin to actually respond, they burst into the opening of 'Prophet and Loss'. 

“I would kill for a drink—- is there somebody we could send to concessions?” Bela asked midsong. And you looked around, wondering if any of the staff could actually leave their posts without getting in trouble. 

You suddenly felt like a bad host. “We’ll get you a box for Vegas. I know this isn’t as fun as it sounds standing for two hours straight.”

“Y/N, I’m fine. Promise.”

“Okay, well I’ll go after the next song. You want anything, Tiny?” you asked your silent companion.

“All good, boss.” He replied and straightened his stance, clasping his hands in front of him.

Kevin silenced the space with the burst of chords at the beginning of his solo, showcasing what Julliard training could do and how rock’n’roll could still be classy as hell. The key changed, turning the mood broken and lamenting as they stumbled into the bridge where Dean pelted out about losing Cas without so much detail.

 Dean let the note hang in the air. “'Prophet and Loss', everybody.”

Whistles filled the air, keeping the mood somber but with enough reception to know that small offering was gratefully accepted.

“Thanks— uh, I, we really appreciate being here tonight and being able to share some of the new album with everybody. But we know you wanna hear the stuff you know, too. So we’re gonna hop back to it and have a kick ass night. How’s that sound?” Dean checked in.

The crowd cheered.

“Did you hear something?” Dean asked Lee jokingly.

The crowd got louder.

“I don’t know if they’re up for much more,” Lee taunted back.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Bela. “Okay, I’ll be back, text me if you think of anything besides drinks.”

The crowd continued to take the bait, howling behind you as you made your way out of the off limit areas and up a side stairway towards the general admission cavern-like hallway. For the first time it felt like all day, you exhaled. Your pass flapped against your chest as you strutted quickly towards the concession area, bypassing the VIP lounge because you didn’t want to get distracted by Madison or any of the mid-level suits that might be milling around.

You could have stolen something from the dressing room, but that wouldn’t have taken nearly as long and you needed some time off of Bela duty tonight. Which made you feel guilty as hell. She was your best friend! She didn’t do anything wrong. And yet you were incredibly frustrated with even the thought of her.

So you waited in line, ordered two extremely overpriced and depressingly weak cocktails, and put them on your expense card. 

The thing about regret is that it isn’t a one time experience. There might have been a moment in the process of you contriving this scenario for Dean’s redemption where you second or third guessed yourself. But the biting sting of seeing him play happy with Bela online and even in person had come at you in waves.

Regret was bearable if it meant it worked, if Dean could have some peace.

But this wasn’t just regret, it was petulance and jealousy and injustice.

Because Bobby had asked all the way back in the beginning, why couldn’t it have been you playing arm candy? And the fact that people could see what you had tried so hard to bury and ignore plain as day, well, it made you feel incredibly small and even more pathetic.

There was no reason for you to be the one at Dean’s side. But damn did you want to be.

And somehow you had managed to keep that from one of the most important people in your life. So it wasn’t just that Bela was getting a part of Dean that you’d never have. Or parts. You shuttered at the thought of where his mouth had been. It was that your best friend hadn’t even clocked the elephant in the room.

Like she didn’t even know you at all.

Or maybe that was on you too. Maybe you hadn’t been honest with yourself until it was too late. How could you put that blame on her too?

You slammed your drink and got back in line for a replacement, not wanting to return with only Bela’s cup like some kind of maid. You could hear the crowd singing along with Lee on ‘A Reaper’s Offering’, a bluesy cut from their second studio album. 

You probably had another two songs before you’d miss anything else new. But you also knew Bela was waiting and the longer the show went on, the more drunk and ballsy random fans could get. You couldn’t leave her with the forever nonplussed Tiny for backup. You smiled at the woman working the bar cart apologetically and ordered another husk of a cocktail.

After another stream of applause, the opening bars of ‘Abandon All Hope’ started and you knew you had to book it. This was Jo’s song, you couldn’t miss it. You never left Dean to get through this one alone. Huffing down the service steps with two drinks in hand in heels was something that you managed only from practice, but you made it in time for the first chorus.

“Oh aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Bela murmured to her drink before sipping it and wincing. “It’ll do. Took you long enough,” she teased and winked, hip checking you as you struggled to get your breathing under control as you mouthed along with Dean’s words.

“Trapped by your side with no exit, we had to let you go—”

Bela quickly picked up on your shift in mood and reeled in the playfulness, for which you gave her a grateful glance before turning back to try and lock eyes with Dean on stage.

“Defending that night while trying to give comfort, we should have known—”

“To abandon all hope,” you sang out, the last lyric rising up to hover in the air. 

Dean turned and glanced in your direction and then looked again once he finally saw you. He nodded and tapped his heart and you returned the gesture, you both kept her safe as you could now. He blew a kiss to the ceiling and bowed.

The crowd continued to echo around you, suffocating yet as distant as thunder. 

“Alrighty, folks, we’re gonna take a short break for Sammy to find another shirt and we’ll get you one last sneak peak,” Dean explained. “Kevin? Think you and Pam can keep ‘em busy for me?”

“Aye-aye,” Kevin said and saluted, out of range of his mic stand.

Pam started in with the count and Kevin peeled in down from the upper registers, like he was sliding in from Heaven and crashing a party. The instrumental interlude was a mesmerizing feat of jumping genres and killing time while showcasing just what all each of them could do. But you weren’t even paying attention. Dean made a beeline for the back of the stage and he wound around security until he could find you. 

He gripped the ball of your shoulder and leaned in. “I didn’t see you until the end— had me worried, Trouble!”

He had to talk over the crowd, his back firmly towards the nearest wedge of fans.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!”

He stared at you, sweaty and down to a single layer, earpiece still in his left ear. 

“You’re killing it up there,” Bela said, making you both stop and blink. Dean grinned and pulled her into a hug, a boyfriend hug, arms tight around her waist so her arms can loop around his neck. She even kicked a leg back for balance. 

God was she good.

“You keep an eye on her, okay? She’s gonna need tissues for the next one,” Dean warned playfully down his nose at Bela about you.

She rolled her eyes. “You are a menace on the emotional, aren’t you?”

“All in a day’s work,” Dean shrugged and set her back on her own two feet.

The crackle of a nearby walkie made Dean look around for whoever was sent to find him. “Sam’s looking for you,” an unimpressed lackey of Benny’s pointed out from ten feet away.

“Yeah, I bet he is. Alright, well, see you ladies later— Tiny,” Dean stepped back nodding. He soon disappeared only to hop up on the wing of the stage, grabbing an acoustic and sliding it on.

After the chaos of the crowd dissipated from Pamela’s and Kevin’s antics, Dean and Sam walked on stage and sat down on a pair of stools that had been left out for them. They didn’t look at each other or even the crowd and you knew in that moment that Dean hadn’t been lying. You weren’t gonna survive the next song live with a dry eye.

‘Brothers Keeper’ nearly took down the entire venue. 

Cell phones and lighters blazed in the dark, enraptured space as Dean and Sam sang about each other, about family, and about forgiveness.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 27: Polyphony

[stanfordsweater]

what are your favorite wincest episodes

hehehe

in chronological order rather than in order of preference:

dead in the water -- i really latched on to this one as a kid and so it still holds a big piece of my heart. i love the slow aching reveal of how traumatized dean is, all with sam right there watching. i will always be preoccupied with the times where dean get peeled back and exposed all vulnerable

what is and what should never be -- another great vulnerable dean episode, i loved the insight we get into his thoughts on sam, more specifically how clear it is that his self-hatred clouds his understanding of sam's motivations and why he sticks around with dean beyond "the job." it helps that sam looks so unbearably sexy in dean's perfect world created from his most desperate desires and deepest insecurities. i want to connect this one with DSOTM, but that ep didn't make the list because season five is PAINFUL and i hate watching it 😭

metamorphosis -- kind of out of left field, but this episode is a great example of how their relationship is breaking down in season four. dean punching sam and sam just taking it and keeping his chin up is such a gut-punch + sam's reaction to the reveal that they angels are watching out for him, for all the worst reasons, while dean is getting closer to them himself... you also get sam's desperation to save dean, to be something good, and his despair and teeth-grinding resolve to stop using into his powers... which only lasts so long. TENSION. delicious.

swan song -- AGONY.

i love so much about carver era, but to whittle it down:

there's a lot of aspects i love about season 8 spread across a number of episodes, like the way dean is just freaking out and trying to protect sam in the great escapist, the tension cas and more immediately benny brings to their relationship, the attempts to reconnect and the feeling that they might actually work through it this time, even with all the jealousy, but every time you think they're about to work it out something else gets worse-- it's really fun. i don't think any individual episode makes this list but they all get honourable mention.

i think i'm gonna like it here & road trip -- double feature because of the way dean's decision comes home to roost. dean's absolute despair in 9x01, it's SO wild and hurts my heart, the way you can understand exactly how they've ended up here, the betrayal, dean's guilt but the lack of apologies, sam's righteous anger and his deep-down buried soul-rending shame... i want to drink it all up with a straw, i'm obsessed. sam is in fine fucking form in road trip. he's NOT BUDGING and it's so good. also he looks fine as fuck and you know dean is burning inside. all of it leading directly to my favourite death scene in the entire show at the end of season nine. fabulous.

safe house -- this one is just a fun reprieve from all the angst of the seasons before, where sam and dean are working a case and making fun of each other and spending hours across from each other in a motel room at a table too small for them and not getting sick of each other. there's also the end scene where sam is so pleased that dean was haunted by visions of him dead <3 affirmations with the winchester brothers!

carry on -- i know many finale haters and i understand their points, but i was so shocked that the show remembered what it was about and delivered us that beautiful monologue and the forehead touch and the heaven reunion, all wrapped up in sam finally having the life he had wanted in a way he would hate. it's poetic and it finally resolves that last lingering question that allows him to actually enjoy heaven, and the final piece dean needs to not feel like a monster for "failing" to provide sam with the apple-pie life. jared has this interview from season eight where he says that sam carries that resentment over being dragged back into hunting with him, and while it's not rational-- ultimately he was not dragged, he made his choice in an impossible situation, manipulated by outside forces-- i really loved that the finale actually gave us (and dean) absolution for this last desire of sam's. i don't know.

[megjameswrites]

Decorated my house for Yule today, so have a Christmas Supernatural drabble!

Christmas Sucks Ass

Dean Winchester/reader; Dean Winchester/ original character

Christmas has always sucked for Dean, but this one is a little bit different.

Dean stared at me, eyes hard. “What the fuck is that?”

I blinked. “What- it’s… a Christmas tree?”

“What is it doing here?”

I glanced around the hotel room, where I’d placed the very small and very cheap dollar store tabletop tree on the desk. “It’s… decorating the place?”

Everything I said was coming out as a question, and I hated it. It was the way he was staring at me, like he thought I’d suddenly been possessed by a demon and he had to kill me or something.

One time. It was one time, damn it.

Dean kept staring, clearly waiting for more information. I stared back, waiting for the same.

“Christmas is bullshit,” he finally snapped. “Me and Sammy, we didn’t get happy family holidays.”

“What, and you think I did?” I fired back with a sneer. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a damn tree. Lighten up.”

“Lighten up? Are you-“

I tossed my hands up and interrupted him before he could really get going. “Damn it, Dean! I try to do something nice for you and you have to make it a thing! I had a surprise planned out! With Sam!”

He froze, clearly taken aback. “What?”

I crossed my arms, just as pissed now as he had been when he walked in. “Sam and I. Planned. A surprise for you. Cas helped. But you had to go and pitch a bitch fit, and now we might as well not bother.”

“I found- hello, Dean.”

I sighed as Castiel immediately hid what was in his hands. “Don’t bother. He ruined it. Where’s Sam?”

As if summoned by the power of prayer, Sam flung the door open and kicked it shut, hands full of wrapping paper and tape. “Hey, I got- shit. Dean. Hi.”

Dean glared equally at all three of us. “What are you doing? What did you do?”

Sam looked guilty for some reason, and Cas just seemed confused. I sighed, loudly.

“You always say you hate Christmas-“

“Because it sucks ass.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes at him and he scowled harder. His face would get stuck that way if he wasn’t careful. “You say that, but you’ve been humming Christmas songs since before Thanksgiving. We made a damn surprise. Also, every Christmas did not suck ass. Don’t blame us for you throwing away the one Christmas present you ever cared about.”

Dean flinched, and Sam looked sad. The absence of the amulet around his neck still hurt, and I’d made my point. Now I gestured to Cass, and he handed me what I’d hoped like hell he’d be able to find.

“It isn’t the same one,” I said quietly. I held out the amulet, similar but in silver instead of gold. “But we found this. Look at the back.”

Dean took it, looking like someone had hit him right between the eyes with a baseball bat, and flipped it over. On the back were our initials- mine, Sam’s, Cass’, Bobby’s, Ellen’s, Jo’s. John and Mary’s.

“We couldn’t fit names, but we got the initials in. You’ll know what it means, and we’ll all be close to your heart.” I finished speaking without looking at him, my cheeks burning.

“No chick flick moments,” Dean muttered.

“Sure,” I agreed more casually than I meant. “Whatever you say, Winchester.”

The colored lights caught on the pendant as he lifted it to put around his neck. “Christmas still sucks ass,” he said. Then he cleared his throat. “You guys don’t, though.”

[beautysurvives]

*not done with this, may or may not finish it, wanted to post anyway*

a little (nsfw) destiel fic set immediately after the events of 10x14 The Executioner’s Song

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

Cas doesn’t have to knock. He knows that.

Dean knows that too.

About two years ago, when they thought he was gonna move in, for a second, before Gadreel — before Dean — made that impossible, he’d allowed himself to fantasize about having a boyfriend who’s there when he comes home. Falls asleep in his bed in the middle of the day and stays there. Content to wait. Hold down the fort while he’s away.

For the first time, Cas actually wanted to stay. As a matter of fact, he had to. He was persona non grata among his family once again. All the hope of going back, being welcomed with open arms, slowly dying.

And, like all the other angels, his wings were gone. He couldn’t just fly away anymore.

But Dean liked to think it was more than that. More than just needing a place to stay. More than having nowhere else to go. More than losing his wings.

Cas had finally become human, and he wanted to stay.

He calls his name through the closed door — closed, not locked — and Dean says, “Yeah,” trying, the same way he did earlier in the kitchen with Sam, to conjure up some life.

But it comes out even more hopeless. Shaky, weak. His chances of fooling Cas are somehow even lower without Sam in the room.

With Sam, at least, it feels possible to pretend, despite how well he knows him — or thinks he knows him, sometimes. They at least have the courtesy to ignore each other’s falling apart until it becomes too much. Stay nestled in their usual roles for as long as they both can.

But Cas has his angel thing, his sixth sense that can see past any of Dean’s bullshit. See into his soul. Plunge through his skin — right through his skull — with just his eyes.

And then he’s also got that thing about his personality that won’t let him leave well enough alone. That’s how he knew about the mark in the first place. Dean had tried his best to avoid it, but all he’d really done was delay the inevitable. All he had to do was get one good look, and he was bound to, sooner or later.

Dean watches him walk in — see, Cas didn’t wait for permission. He didn’t have to, and he knew it. The knock was just a pretense, acknowledging the existence of boundaries, because he understands now that human beings have those.

But opening the door, walking in, it says what Cas always says. Su casa, mi casa.

Your body, my body.

That’s just how Heaven is. How Heaven raised him. He can’t be blamed.

There used to be a time when Dean was grateful for the familiarity.

Cas clears his throat awkwardly. A habit Dean thinks he picked up, maybe, from his recent time spent as a man, experiencing phlegm. No grace in him to burn it away. All those muscles he’d barely ever used. Barely knew were there. Suddenly activating.

“I can heal your injuries, if you want.”

Dean laughs before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” It’s still effortless, to laugh at Cas’s squint and head tilt combo, the way, for all his divine insight, he remains so befuddled — so easily distracted — by social interactions. Dean doesn’t have to try hard to deceive him as long as he can confuse him.

But right now, Cas seems completely focused on his task, advancing on the gash near Dean’s eyebrow with determination. He brushes a finger over it, and Dean feels his grace rushing in — but only so far. Only this one spot.

He intends to take his time. Split Dean into sections. Do him one by one.

When Dean opens his eyes, he sees a second of uncertainty. Not knowing where to go next. What part of Dean to touch.

What does it mean that he chose me over Crowley?

Dean had always intended to kiss him; he was simply biding his time. Now just makes sense, because Cas is between his legs, just barely pressing him back into the edge of the desk, one hand resting on his hip, the other hovering near his bruised jaw.

Dean kisses him, and Cas closes his eyes, seeming just as sure about this as he is (of course, Dean can never really tell, with Cas). Fingers ghosting along his jaw. Letting Dean lick his way into his mouth, push away his trenchcoat to run his hands along his sides. He can hear the soft ringing of Cas’s grace before he feels its warmth in his bones, filling the side of his face with light.

Dean pulls him close, and the mark wants him to tear his clothes off, throw him against the wall, bite his neck so hard—

“Sorry.” He pulls back, only as much as the desk and the wall and Cas’s hands allow.

Cas quickly looks away. Back to healing, like nothing ever happened. “You don’t have to apologize.”

He moves on to Dean’s screaming, nearly dislocated shoulder, hand hovering dangerously close to the imprint of his palm — now just a constellation of faded, moon shaped scars that most of Dean’s hookups ignore.

“I know that the mark can make you do things you don’t necessarily want to do.”

Like what? Running off with Crowley?

Making the first move, instead of waiting for you to do something like I always do?

“But you’re doing a great job at fighting it. I admire you, Dean.” He says it the way he once said, I don’t envy your position.

The mark wants Dean to kill him.

But maybe, for tonight, it’ll settle for fucking him senseless.

Cas closes his eyes, displeasure written on his face. Like there’s something not quite right about the injury, something that can better be addressed by sliding Dean’s flannel further down, slipping his hand under his t-shirt, taking Dean’s whole shoulder and gripping tight before he turns the light on again. Dean bites back a gasp, wanting nothing more than to give in entirely, open the floodgates of his soul and feel Castiel’s restored grace running through his whole body.

Getting fucked senseless might be just as good.

He buries his face in Cas’s chest and lets out a small back of the throat whine. Presses his lips into the linen that always smells like the last time Jimmy Novak was in it. Detergent and sweat and fear and blood. He takes the breast pocket between his teeth as Cas squeezes tighter, and the grace feels almost uncomfortably hot, and then perfectly cool. Feels like if being set on fire was a good thing.

Feels like a part of him returning — like his body slowly reaching dynamic equilibrium, things falling into place with ease.

Like coming home.

He must seem like a wild animal to him. A panting, salivating, hot mess. Bleeding knuckles and broken fingers. Something less evolved.

All the times they fucked or messed around, it was never like this. Dean liked — likes to be clean, and he liked to treat Cas — all powerful angel Cas, who made Crowley his bitch and turned himself into God — gently. Easily broken Cas. Angel statuette, Cas.

Dean liked uncreating him, watching him regress from something made of marble to soft wet clay. From heaven’s soldier to something like a man. He liked to think they’d have time to work their way up to the kind of wild, ruthless sex he’d had with Emma’s mom, when he was trying to move on. Or with Crowley.

“Sorry,” Dean says again, just as the light leaves Cas’s hand. He pulls away, and Dean finds his shoulder is moveable again, even better than before.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

Dean sighs and closes his eyes, cringing. But he has to say it anyway, no matter how pathetic. “Just — uh. I’m sure you don’t wanna have to touch me… like this.”

He opens his eyes to check — and Good, he thinks. It hurt the way it was designed to.

“Dean-” He sighs, looking down. Neither of them willing to face the thing head on.

But Cas surprises him, taking him by the arm. The mark sings under his palm, burning with a different kind of pain than the rest of his yet-to-be-healed body. An unbearable kind of pain. It never stops. It begs to be able to stop.

He doesn’t have to say it. If I could heal this with my grace, I would.

Dean says, “I know, Cas. I know.”

Cas lifts his chin and kisses him again in a way that quickly becomes voracious. It’s possible he thinks this is the only way Dean wants to be kissed now. The only reason Dean would want to be kissed by him.

Dean can taste the wrath of Heaven on his tongue. Then he can taste the grace. Like everything with Cas, it’s familiar. Although, technically, even this belongs to someone else. And now Dean’s soul is marred by someone else’s touch, his latest resurrection owed to a different force. Both of them a mutating patchwork of borrowed things. Less and less like who they were when they first met.

Still, this reminds Dean of being reborn.

It pains him to ask, between kissing and healing, “You don’t have anywhere to be tonight do you?” He knows the answer is no — Cas isn’t interested in anything anymore besides getting rid of the mark — but he’s remembering the last time he had him alone in this room. What he means is, There’s no one waiting for you, right?

No “females” outside, riding shotgun in Cas’s crappy pimp mobile.

He feels a flare of jealousy — an inferno really — at the memory of Hannah and the way she looked at him. His whole cult of angelic Cas-worshippers, at his beck and call, before his loyalty to Dean frightened them away.

Metatron’s rotating cast of suicide bombers, including Tessa — the first monster that Dean almost gave his life to, years before he knew what it was to have someone to live for — before someone like Cas appeared, who’d decided that his survival wasn’t contingent on Dean’s death. Who would’ve died before letting anything touch him. Who would put him first — before Sam. Before the world. Even before Heaven.

The whole cult episode reminded him just how common it was to kneel and pray to Castiel. How common he was — they all were. Weak to his persuasion. Not just humans. Not just demons. Other angels — even reapers. Sheep, to him. God’s Chosen.

At the time, when the mark was still fresh and its effects still unexpected, the moment brought back every ugly thing that had passed between them. Everything Dean had already forgiven. All of the worst things about loving Cas.

“No,” the angel says calmly. “The only place I need to be is here… As long as this is where you want me.”

Hope in his eyes. It would be so easy to snuff it out.

If what Cain said is true, there will come a day when Dean won’t hesitate.

“You already know I want you here.”

He proves it. Cas lets him for a moment, then he pulls away.

“You’re still hurt.”

“So you’re saying you don’t-”

“I’m saying, let me finish what I’m doing. Then you can — ravish me to your heart’s desire.”

Dean laughs. “Fine.”

While Cas works on his knee, Dean looks at his own half-bare arms, flannel bunching at his elbows where Cas pushed it down. He clears his throat loudly. “Do you need me to take off my clothes?”

He adds a “Doctor?” for good measure, purring the word in Cas’s ear.

At first he smiles, and then there’s a brief flash of pain — thinking, again, about what he can’t heal. But the look becomes determination.

“Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Dean says as he lets it fall. Cas’s eyes rake over him — lingering for maybe a second on the mark, but then the rest of him too. His skin, speckled with little bruises. Cuts and abrasions. The tightness of his t-shirt, which hides even more than it reveals.

“Well… this is just a routine checkup, so there’s really no need.”

Dean sighs so quiet that Cas doesn’t catch it. You’re supposed to be, like, saving my life or something, he moans internally. But he decides to just roll with the weak improvisation, at the same time that Cas says, “You can keep this on for now,” taking his time to look up from Dean’s chest, just enough to meet his eyes.

It still gives him goosebumps, being checked out like that.

Big difference between him and Crowley — Crowley made Dean feel wanted, yeah. Sexy even. But Cas makes him feel beautiful.

This time when Cas kisses him, it’s better. Soft, not full of fire. But like a first kiss between strangers who are only just discovering how much they like each other.

Dean answers with his eyes closed, half out of character. “Well you’re not supposed to do that.”

“I apologize,” he says, becoming shy. “I don’t know what came over me… I suppose I uh, I find it difficult to focus on doing my job properly in the presence of someone I find so… alluring.” His eyes flutter open just as Cas leans back. “But you’re right. That was completely unprofessional, and it won’t happen again. You’re owed the same high level of care as all my other patients… Of course I understand if you’d prefer to be seen by someone else.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat, straightening his back and gripping the desk with one hand, running the other through his hair. Here’s a chance to add some texture to the story. “Uuhm, well, honestly, Doctor — even though I can and probably should report this behavior to your bosses, I think I’m willing to look past this little slip, because…” He bites his lip while he thinks of something workable and not too cliche, leaning into the nervous patient thing, maybe in over his head but still determined to get what he came for. “Well, even though this is just a routine check up, I’ve heard about… how good you are at taking care of people. I guess I wanted at least one chance to see for myself how you’d, uh, handle a case like me.”

Cas blinks. “A case like you…? From what I saw on your chart, you don’t have any pre-existing conditions — is there something bothering you, mis-”

“Maybe you can figure out what it is.”

Cas nods. “Maybe we should continue the examination.”

“Uh-huh. You said keep on the shirt, right? So pants and shoes.” Cas steps back to let him swing his leg up onto the desk, watches him lift the leg of his jeans and unlace his leather boots.

He kicks that one off and does the other, and when he’s done Cas says, “Very good. While you were removing your shoes, I noticed that you had some difficulty bending your limbs.” He takes his spot again, between Dean legs, laying a hand on each thigh. “Are you experiencing any pain — or swelling? Are your pants unusually tight?”

“…Yeah actually. Can you-”

Cas looks him in the eye as he undoes his belt, takes it by the silver buckle and pulls it free, lays it aside and within reach. He tugs the button roughly before he unfastens it, but unzipping the fly is so gentle, quick and precise Dean’s not even sure when it’s done. “Lift your butt off the table so I can pull down your pants.” Dean is quick to obey, watching as Cas kneels down, bringing them to Dean’s ankles, then taking his feet and guiding them out one at a time.

He stays there, observing his legs with furrowed brows. “Well, the source of the swelling is… very apparent, but you’ve got a lot of scrapes and bruises on your legs. You must be very clumsy.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean agrees. “The clumsiest.”

“That’s unfortunate. You don’t deserve to get hurt so often. What do you do for work?”

He cycles through a handful of easy responses. Cocktail waitress, stripper, prostitute. Construction worker, lion tamer, stuntman. “Uh… I’m a body double. Like in movies. One of those guys who gets set on fire or falls off a motorcycle or, uh, shows his ass when the actor doesn’t want to. Last movie I did — bondage stuff.”

“I see. Well, if you’re interested, I can give you something now to address these scars. It’s an experimental method of treatment. And I promise it has nothing to do with… what happened earlier, or my personal feelings. But it does require me to use my mouth.”

Dean’s eyebrows fly so high they might as well grow wings of their own. He coughs to cover up choking. “Okay… I trust you. Do…” Deep breath. “Whatever you think is best.”

Cas says nothing, barely nods, shifting so that he’s on his knees. Dean stiffens reflexively as he leans close, warming his thigh with his even, barely-there breaths.

Dean gasps as the breath travels down to his shin. Cas lowers his sock, and Dean watches his mouth glow from within.

He just barely presses these soft bright lips to Dean’s tender skin, healing the sprain underneath. And then slowly trailing his healing kisses up. Excruciatingly slow.

Torn calf muscle, scraped knee. He puts a hand around the back of it to steady himself, and Dean wraps his other leg around him on instinct. “Fuck — sorry,” he says, but Cas is too busy to give him a response. Too focused on doing his job. By the time he reaches the inner thigh, Dean is trembling, hissing, “Cascascas — stop.” He waves a hand in his face to get his attention, then lets it fall limply onto the desk.

“You gotta slow down. You’re kinda driving me nuts.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” And his prideful little smirk isn’t helping, especially not while he’s wearing Dean’s leg like a sash. “I thought this was an efficient way to achieve our shared goals.”

“Yeah. Maybe a little too efficient.”

“You mean you want this to take long?” Dean nods — duh. “That’s good. So do I.”

Goddammit…

“Okay… then you better get the Hell up… and maybe don’t talk as much.”

“I thought you wanted me to be more communicative.”

He rolls his eyes openly. Cas really isn’t making this any easier.

“That was last time.” Cas was human then — Dean thought he should probably be trained — and they were in the backseat of Baby, a few blocks away from the Gas n Sip.

He tries not to think about it.

He has to look away as Cas slowly rises to his feet, and he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as soon as the hand around his leg tightens, and the other grabs his thigh to hoist Cas’s body up the rest of the way.

Oh my God, Dean mouths. It’s been too long, and he wants Cas too much. Even the mark can’t erase that constant longing. The mark just makes it hurt.

Cas heals his other leg without telling him. This one is almost like a slap in the face. The kind that wakes you up. Sends a jolt through his whole body.

“If your problem right now, Dean, is that you’re too attracted to me, I’m really not sure how we can fix it. Should we tone it down with the doctor stuff? Or… maybe you should just not look at me? I don’t know.”

“Didn’t I say don’t talk?” he nearly begs.

Cas goes quiet, looking down at Dean’s burden, straining to be freed. “You know,” he says, taking pleasure in his own disobedience, meeting Dean’s eyes with an intense gaze, something teasing underneath, “we could just bring you to orgasm now. I’m sure I could help you become erect again relatively quickly.”

Now it’s Dean’s turn to be quiet — a pause that only lasts about half as long as Cas’s before he says, “Yeah okay.”

He’s about 75% sure that Cas has worked some magic to make the minutes feel like hours — if they were minutes at all. All he knows is that time doesn’t exist. All there is is Cas’s middle finger still inside him. Still with its rhythmic pulse. The thumb of his other hand gently coaxing out the last of a never-ending orgasm, so intense there’s an element of pain that reminds Dean of being shocked. Muscles tensing. Holding his breath.

His command, when he decides that it’s over — when he knows that Dean is too calm, too soft and content to do much, other than what he’s told — other than whatever will make Cas happy — when he’s certain that the mark hasn’t taken that from him yet — “Why don’t you remove your shirt and wait for me on the bed.”

He lets him go, weak and tingling. Wobbly deer legs take him just far enough to safely collapse.

For a while Cas comes in and out of view — Dean assumes he’s cleaning up their mess, and maybe fixing the laptop that they knocked to the floor — but he leans down to tug on Dean’s shirt.

“Dean. I asked you to take this off.”

“Shit, sorry, my bad,” he says as he pulls it up over his head and tosses it away. He lays down on his belly and closes his eyes. He could fall asleep here, like this, knowing that Cas is close and busy.

The mark wants Dean to kill him, but he can hardly hear it over the ringing in his ears. Church bells.

“Are you healing me again?”

Cas gives an affirmative grunt, and Dean starts rolling his eyes, but it feels too nice, and Cas predicts the thing that makes it even better, swinging a leg over to trap Dean under him.

His fingers trace down his back, following the arrow of his spine.

“When I first met you, you had so many scars here,” he says unexpectedly.

Dean frowns — when they first met, he was as unblemished as a newborn. Then he realizes that Cas is talking about Hell, or his grave. Dean’s corpse, or whatever he was before Cas saved him. Something out of The Walking Dead. “I’d never seen a human being who had suffered so many assaults.”

Dean’s not sure why he laughs. “Bullshit.”

“Well I mean… up close. I'd spent a lot of time — watching humanity. But…” It’s no longer about healing; he’s rubbing up and down his back absentmindedly, coveting the pleasing sound Dean makes when he finds his way to the back of his head, takes a fistful of hair and gives it a gentle tug. Ruffles his hair and smooths it down, and in the process pushing the side of his face down into the bed, softly kneading the aching muscles at the base of his skull.

“My first vessel… she’d never gotten hurt before, physically. Not even so much as a broken arm.

“She was her father’s prized possession. But when the family fell on hard times, he was willing to sell her into a marriage with a man who he called his friend. So she turned to God for help.

“And when He didn’t answer, she considered joining a convent. She was about to, before I…”

“Got her killed?”

“No, I… After our final mission together, I reported back to Anna, alone. I said that I had been ambushed and lost my vessel in the process…”

“… You told her to run, didn’t you?”

He chuckles quietly. “For years, I was convinced that Anna knew. Just… waiting for the punishment I was certain I had earned. But it never came…” Cas shrugs.

“Or maybe it did. I mean, for all I know, they reprogrammed me right after, and allowed me to believe I was… improving on my own.”

Improving on my own.

Dean remembers the Castiel that raised him from perdition. Tried to talk to him twice — but for some reason, Dean wasn’t one of those special people who could hear what he had to say.

They all — Dean, Sam, Bobby, Pamela — forced Cas to appear, and burned Pamela’s eyes out in the process. Of course, Dean is more to blame for that than anyone.

He wonders now, not for the first time, if Cas could’ve left Jimmy and his family out of it — if only Dean hadn’t been so desperate to see him. To know who and what he was and why he wanted Dean bad enough to defy nature. To prove it to himself.

If Dean had just left well enough alone — if he wasn’t always so fucking needy — would Cas have ever knocked on the Novaks’ door? Would he have chosen some other vessel — some other family from a list of alternates? Would he have returned to the battlefield at all?

“Are you falling asleep?” Cas asks him.

“Well no need to sound so hopeful.”

“No — it’s not — I just mean… It’s a good sign, for you to be feeling tired. It means you’re still functioning normally.”

“Yeah,” he answers shakily. “It is good, isn’t it?”

“But,” Dean adds a moment later, “I don’t wanna be one of those guys who only cares about himself.”

“You could never be.”

He turns onto his back, laughing and groaning at the same time. “I mean, what about you, Cas?”

He waggles his brows suggestively, and Cas laughs and hides his face. It’s the most human he’s ever looked.

When he meets his gaze his eyes are heavy with lust, the humor slowly fading. “I understand what you’re saying… But your condition-”

“I wanna feel normal as long as I can, Cas.” God. It makes him sound terminal.

In a way, he is.

“And if normal looks like getting dicked down by an angel who kinda sucks at roleplay, I think I can live with that.”

“… I don’t suck.”

“Yeah you do. Little bit. Come on, admit it.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I will not.”

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Satanic panic: 8 Oct. Suptober

"Okay. Okay, here's the thing," Sam said, clearly struggling to keep his volume low and still be heard over the milling police, sounds of a crowd cheering on the other side of the venue's stage, and the weeping wailings of several nearby… 

Castiel wasn't sure what they were. Leather-bound, pentagram-tattooed lizard people? The rest of the band, he was given to understand.

Sam continued, "Satanic panic, 1980s style? Fake news. Never proven. All the pearl clutching and accusations about ritualistic satanic sacrifices and abuses, totally unsubstantiated. At best, you could say, yes, people did panic, but wholly without cause."

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Now, this so-called death metal – Satan metal – band is on its fifth lead singer in five years."

"Right."

"Except they've all been the same guy."

"I thought the first one was different," Castiel interjected.

Both brothers shook their heads. "Same guy," Dean said. "Different, y'know, whatta you call 'em." He snapped his fingers a couple of times. "Vestments." 

"Vestments, names, personas, et cetera," Sam huffed. "Different positions in the larger cult."

"Only it's not really a cult?" Castiel was having a hard time keeping up.

"Right, it's all phony." Dean rolled his eyes; he'd been loudly vocal, earlier, about his distaste for this particular band.

Castiel asked, "Is it important that all of the lead singers were only one man?" 

Sam gave a grin like a grimace emoji. (Castiel liked sending texts with that one.) "It's relevant, possibly, because part of the lore – the storyline – of the band was that every lead singer was 'replaced'." He made finger quotes. "Which is to say, 'murdered'." 

"But it was just the one man changing costumes," Castiel deduced. "That's somewhat clever."

"Some people think so." Dean looked askance at Sam.

"Several of their songs are great, pointedly political commentaries about the corruption of modern life and the downfall of empires," Sam said, in a tone that indicated the debate with Dean was ongoing.

"It's a shame then," Castiel said, squatting to pull the bloody sheet down from the face of the corpse sprawled halfway out of the dressing room doorway, "that the lead singer seems to be literally dead this time."

He didn't have to ask why this case warranted the Winchester's skillset. The singer's eyes were burned clear out of his head.

He looked up at Dean and Dean nodded, grimly.

-

"What are you reading?" Dean manhandled Cas enough to be able to crawl into bed behind him, his thighs bracketing Cas's hips. As it was one of Dean's usual nighttime routines, Cas allowed the interruption without complaint.

"In this story, apparently we're investigating the killing of a famous singer who leads a made-up satanic cult." Cas showed him the screen of the old tablet Sam had given him. 

"Pretty sure most satanic cults are made up," Dean said, hooking his chin over Cas's shoulder. "And I'm sayin' that even though I've met actual Satan."

"Throughout the ages there've been more than a few cults dedicated to Lucifer," Cas admitted. "But most of them didn't really know who they were worshiping, and certainly not in any way that would've been useful to Lucifer."

"I guess that's comforting to hear," Dean muttered. He coughed into Cas's shoulder. "Hey. We get up to anything sexy in that story?"

"Hmm." Cas scrolled back up to the top of the first chapter. "It's rated General Audiences."

"Ah," Dean said, his fingers tickling up Cas's ribs while Cas turned in his arms. "Guess we'll have to write our own fic."

[autisticandroids]

15, 21, 23?

15. something you learned this year

i don't know if i can say i learned a new skill as such. but one thing is like... i really enjoyed making three card stud. and it really opened my eyes to like, how much of what i like about the practice of fanfiction is the meticulous remixing/reinterpretation of canon. there's a way in which the AMV is a more... analytical art form than the fanfic, because you are literally forced by the constraints of the medium to keep to the text. all you have are song lyrics and the kuleshov effect to convince your audience to take the new meaning you intend to convey from stuff already in the show. and i brought that ethos to three card stud even though i did add stuff. in a lot of ways three card stud was just me listing off things from canon i think a lot about and saying eh? eh? like. hoping the context would make it clear *why* this stuff makes me crazy. and i think that was a lot of the motivation behind the fic i'm currently working on, which is about dean and cas getting caught by the police. that fic at this point is mostly lists of things that have happened in spn episodes, placed in a new context by baffled feds and cops. which is the fun part. so like basically i learned that this is really fun, listing off canon facts in a new context

21. most memorable comment/review

so the most memorable traditional comment as such i got was probably this one, on i fold in half so easily (ifihse tends to generate the best comments because it's extremely dark without the ways in which it is dark being obviously flagged. so people are more shocked and more forced to think). "Cas: no officer i am very happy please dont tell dean im emotionally complex" is so funny and true that's literally what happens in that fic.

another top contender is this one, on getting serious, which generates good comments for the same reason ifihse does, though it's a lot less intense.

but in terms of my favorite *response to my work,* it was the breastfeeding anon saga (in chronological order here) which was a response to my fic smorgasbord.

and then i wrote a fic based on those anons, and then i got these very funny tags on my fic post:

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

when i tell you about the 120k deanvictor fic which is literally 90k of victor henriksen hunting down a serial killer dean winchester while becoming a little (sexually) obsessed with him and then 30k of victor knowing about the supernatural and moonlighting as a hunter while he and dean suck each others dicks so much.

and also it's about victor's relationship with his two ex wives and his former stepdaughter who he is still emotionally a parent to even though they have no legal relationship and the coworker he had an emotional affair with who he doesn't speak to anymore and how he feels trapped in his life and his job and dean represents this escape for him this total freedom. just living in his car on the road and not having to worry about what your boss thinks or needing to quit smoking. while for dean victor represents this stability and adulthood dean can never achieve. and dean leaves three spare pairs of underwear in victor's divorcé bachelor pad as a kind of little... fantasy. of what life could be like.

anyway the most compelling scene from that, IN MY MIND, is a scene where victor STILL thinks dean is a serial killer. and now he has him in custody. and against his will he's... charmed. by dean. because dean is charming and pathetic, shaking and sweating from mild alcohol withdrawal but still cracking jokes and being friendly and observant and extremely young-feeling, for 28. and earnest in a way he didn't expect. and they're forced to work together against a demon siege, a spin on jus in bello where victor still doesn't find out about the supernatural he's just protecting himself and a prisoner from a threat. and he has the uncomfortable realization that he's attracted to dean winchester (serial killer) (guy he is trying to take down) (has killed so so many people). and he's like well. we can table that for later. and then dean escapes.

so i've been trying to figure out a way to scoop out just that scene and turn it into its own fic because that's actually manageable for me.

the dean and cas pursued by the cops idea also comes a bit from frustration that i can't write this, though the feds in that one are ocs bc it's later.

from here

[winchester-reload]

I saw some asks talking about destiel songs and ... I THINK IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE I CAN RELATE ALMOST EVERYTHING TO DEAN AND CAS BUT, for me, Hozier - Francesca is such a destiel song ...

Oh, I know. One thing I really love about the ship is that you can see it in every song, art, poem, and dream.

But to be clear, I never asked for destiel song recs hahaha (however, excellent choice. Hozier's Francesca is delicious. I also have another person @carhengeapocalypse who suggested Orville Peck's Drive Me, Crazy, which is also an excellent song I've listened to many times. And to which I will suggest Let Me Drown, by Mr. Orville Peck. His live version is LIFE. (seriously, if you need me I'm probably listening to this live Nashville version of the song.)

Not to say any of the other suggestions in my inbox are bad ones, I just haven't listened to the songs. So thank you , fam for sharing your music love with me <3

[blacknidstang]

4 and 8 for the discourse asks ❤️

Hello my beloved 💕

4) meg!sam or lucifer!sam

HOW DO I ANSWER THIS EVEN HOW. I think Jared's acting with Meg was just... Phenomenal truly. Mindblowing performance from such amazing amazing episode. But i think personally i choose Luciter Sam. There's certain beauty, elegance and grace to his Lucifer that sometimes take my breath away. And we don't see a lot truly but sometimes, even a tiniest moment can leave a mark on you. Like this one short scene from Proverbs that had me screaming MY WIFE, MY BRIDE, MY BEAUTY, MY LOVE.. just... Just look at him i am i feel WEAK

8) How should the afterlife have been “resolved”? Did the fixing of Heaven work?

Bdjdudwij i cannot believe you're asking me this when you're fully aware i think Dean is just a prisoner in his isolated heaven and all of that is a illusion. :/ Obviously the writers were held at gun point to make it LOOK LIKE Dean is in heaven waiting for SAM instead of being happy with Cas but they dropped hints all along that this is just an unreal Chuck-made heaven. If you reverse the second Carry On song, invert the waves and subtract the frequency from the first version you will be able to find the morse code to the actual truth of the finale. Hope that clears thing up.

Ok petty jokes aside i actually just realized, it doesn't matter bc it is a win-win thing for us.

IF it had not worked & Chuck has won then ya know, Sam & Dean share one heaven and as long as they are together, according to that certain post, THEY WON'T EVEN REALIZE CHUCK HAS WON. Like it's genuinely funny that the claim turned out to be even more of a samdean soulmatism proof

But if it has worked and heaven is fixed (which i genuinely think is the answer bc it matters so much to me that they fucked god over and raised new one just so they could be free and happy together) then the rest is history. So even if there's nothing i exactly can say for sure, i wholeheartedly think sam & dean are each others heaven and thats all that matters.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to particularly rant about that one thing <3

Spn discourse asks

[typicalopposite]

writing prompts? i gotchu

destiel but cas works in a reptile shop and they meet because his burmese python escaped and was sitting in the sun by the window

I am so sorry this took so long! I kept getting TOO into it and trying to make it a full length fic! (which may still happen one day! lol) but here you go :) hope you like it!

So there are three things everyone in town knows about Rainbow Reptiles: 1.) It is run by Castiel Novak (quiet guy, very awkward, but still friendly). 2.) On Wednesday’s the store closes for an hour so Castiel can clean Lilith’s enclosure . 3.) Lilith is Castiel’s Burmese Python. (She is jet black, 18 years old, and 18 feet long, and as big around as a basketball)

~~~

Castiel is in the backroom, earbuds in and blaring, humming along to the song that’s playing while he cleans out his bucket one last time. He’s nearing the end of his allotted hour—it easily takes the entire hour for him to get Lilith’s home completely clean. The massive enclosure sits in the middle of his store, and stretches from the floor to the skylight; it gives her plenty of natural light to keep her warm, and plenty of room to stretch out her entire 18 feet over the branches of her equally massive artificial tree. 

When he is finally done—cleaning supplies are put up and Lilith’s cage looks brand new—he goes to the 60 gallon storage bin he has to keep her in during the hour. “Oh— oh not again…” he groans, when he sees the lid sitting askew atop the bin. He pauses his music to get his head clear before he starts to panic search for her… and that’s when he hears the screaming. 

Very deep, guttural, screaming of pure panic. 

“Dean come on, it's not even moving,” an unfamiliar voice laughs. 

“Yet, Sam… It’s not moving yet! We need to get the hell out of here before it starts!”

Castiel steps out into his shop. Towering over the shelves is a man Castiel assumes must be Sam; on his back, with his limbs wrapped awkwardly around Sam’s body, is Dean. 

In the store's front window—which sits directly beside the front door—stretched out almost to her full 18 feet, sunbathing in the mid-summer heat without a care in the world of the complete panic going next to her, is Lilith. 

“Can I help you two?” Castiel asks, unsure if he is more annoyed they are in his closed store, or amused at what he is seeing. 

“Wh- what the hell man!” Dean yelps, when he notices Castiel. “You just let that— that— that… roam freely in here!?” 

“That is actually a she,” Castiel says. He crosses the store to Lilith and begins to lift her up. “And she is Burmese Python.” 

“Cool… so you just let your Burmese Python roam around your store?” Dean reiterates, sarcastically. 

“No,” Castiel deadpans, continuing to hoist Lilith up from the window sill. “I keep her in a bin while I clean her cage… but she has been known to get out, that’s why I close the store.” 

“If you’re closed, why was the door unlocked?” 

Castiel sighs; “The lock is broken. But there is a closed sign… did you not see it?” 

“Maybe if it was put where it was easier to see,” Dean snaps back.

“It’s on the front of the door.”

“Can you please get off of me…” Sam interrupts. Dean lingers a moment longer—until Castiel finally has Lilith around his shoulders—then he grunts as he drops to the floor and shakes out his own shoulders, straightening out his worn leather jacket in the process. Castiel blinks. Now that he is no longer contorted around Sam’s body, Castiel can finally get a good look at him. He’s— very handsome… for starters. Castiel feels heat rush to his cheeks. He is vaguely aware he’s staring… but he can’t seem to snap himself out of it. “Uh, anyway, sorry to bother you—I’m Sam… this is Dean. We just opened up next door.”

“Oh, the pawn shop,” Castiel replies; Sam nods, and holds out his hand to Castiel. “Castiel,” he says, shaking Sam’s hand, then turning to do the same with Dean.

“Y- You mind putting it— er, her—your anaconda up… first?” Dean asks, putting some more space between himself and Castiel (and Lilith). 

“Python,” Castiel corrects. “And my apologies for the scare,” he adds, walking Lilith into her cage. She slithers up onto a brand from Castiel’s shoulders and lowers her head to look out at Dean; he cringes and takes another step back. 

“Well, it was good to meet you Cas,” Dean says, finally willing to shake his hand. “Not so much you,” he says to Lilith who inches forward, causing him to give a small leap back. “You should really get that lock fixed, before she decides to break free and go paint the town… or eat the town.”

“The lock is broken, Dean. Not the handle… she can not open the door,” Castiel sighs. 

Dean laughs—not that Castiel was trying to be funny— and nudges Sam towards the door. “Right. Anyway, we’ll see you around?” 

“We are neighbors now, so yes,” Castiel smiles, and waves at them as they continue out the door. “I’ll see you around.” 

it feels like it ends a little weird but again I kept dragging it out into a longer fic and I wanted to get it done so I could post it for you! :)

[alphabetquest]

FAQs

Who is running this thing?

Hi, it’s me 👋🏻. @princessmisery666

What is the prompt schedule?

Sign-up opens on May 29, 2024, and will close on August 29, 2024

Prompts will be posted on the first of each month beginning September 1, 2024. 

Prompts can be filled and posted at any time. Submissions for a prompt can be made within a different month than the prompt was posted.

There is no deadline for submissions.

Cut-off to be included in the prize draw is May 31, 2025.  

Do I have to sign up for the challenge?

Yes, if you want your work reblogged to the @alphabetquest blog and my main blog. We all know Tumblr’s tags aren’t the best so something could be missed. I need to know which blogs to check.

Can I use a prompt from a different month?

Yes, once a prompt is posted, you can use it whenever inspiration strikes. However, please give credit and tag the blog. 

What characters can I write for? 

Here is the list of characters/fandoms that can be used for this challenge. If it’s not listed, just ASK. 

What other characters can I include?

Reader inserts, OCs, and crossovers are all welcome.

What kind of prompts will there be? 

Prompts are open to interpretation, but please feel free to ask if you are unsure of a prompt’s meaning or its spirit of intent.

Quotes and song lyrics quoted - should not be amended

Songs - use all or part (e.g., lyrics used as dialogue, soundtrack for fan video, or art based on the song’s vibe). Using the song title as the title of your piece is fine, but the content also needs to connect to the song in some way.

AUs, kinks, single-word prompts, etc. - use as you’d like based on the guidelines.

Can my creation include ships?

Yes. Except for m/m. Ships such as the following will not be accepted: 

Stucky (MCU) 

Bucky/Buck (Masters Of The Air) 

Hangman/Rooster, Hangman/Bob, Maverick/Rooster, Rooster/Bob, Hangman/Coyote, Maverick/Hangman (Top Gun Maverick)

Eddie/Buck (9-1-1)

Wincest, Dean/Cas, Sam/Cas, Sam/Lucifer, Dean/Benny. (Supernatural)

If you have a question about a ship’s eligibility, just ASK.

What types of prompts will be posted?

Tropes, songs, lyrics, dialogue, and random words. Each letter will have 9 prompts. For example, A will have 3 songs, 3 dialogue, and 3 tropes.

Does the relationship of the main character(s) have to be romantic?

No. Platonic, gender-neutral, sibling, and parental relationships are also acceptable.

Can I combine prompts?

Yes, but each one must be easily identifiable within the works. 

Can I combine a prompt with another bingo/challenge?

Yes, if the other bingo/challenge allows it too. Please make the prompt easy to find, such as by putting it in the Author's Notes. It needs to be clear, or it will not be accepted.

Are crossovers allowed?

Yes. But one of the listed fandoms/characters must be the main feature of the work.

Can I use the same prompt multiple times?

Yes, as long as the fic follows all the other rules and it's not a duplicate fic with the slight changes e.g. character changed.

Can I use the prompts in a chapter of an existing fic?

Yes, as long as the fic follows all the other rules.

How do I submit my work?

All creations must include @alphabetquest in the Author’s Notes. Use the hashtag #AlphabetQuestsSubmission in the first five tags. You can also submit the post’s link to the submission channel in Discord.

Where will my posts be reblogged?

Submissions will be reblogged to the @alphabetquest blog within a week. If you do not see your post reblogged within a week, don't hesitate to contact the @alphabetquest mod on the Discord server or ask in the @alphabetquest DMs. I will also reblog on my main blog (@princessmisery666), but I have a queue set up so it may be more than a week.

If you have any questions that haven’t been covered, please ASK. 

[minalblood]

Ok so my brain decided to deepen its own damage last night as I was rewatching The Winchesters (season 1) finale so buckle up it’s a long one fellas.

So I was listening and when I heard Keep on Rambling come on during the bar scene with Joan, my mind went huh, I wonder where this is placed in the album. So I went and checked. Mainly I was curious cuz usually an album tells a story and Jensen made it pretty clear that unlike the previous two albums where they were just trying shit out, this one was meant to be more consistent and have a clear throughline. So as I said, I checked.

It’s the 6th song btw, the 1st of the 2nd half of the album. I kind lost it after that tbh. Let me explain why ok:

So if we go by the logic that the album tells a story and we tie it to Dean (and destiel cuz duh tbh) we have this shit happening: Right Kind of Trouble - you can tie this to SPN directly, this is Dean realizing that Cas is basically it for him despite the constant fights they’ve been having and more so allowing himself to acknowledge that. Basically this is the Purgatory apology. Like legit this song is to me what Dean really wanted to tell Cas, that Cas didn’t allow him to. This is a love confession itself, one that says I know I fucked up, but If you give me a chance again I will do so much better cuz you’re it for me, we match. Like look at this shit guys:

Like this is pure divorce era Deancas and you can’t tell me otherwise, but more specifically, Dean thoughts as he eventually apologized in 15x09 The Trap.

Then we got Forever ain’t Long. This for me can of course still be about the divorce era, sure, but more so it feels like 15x18 Despair and regretting having gotten to this point and now it being too late to change anything cuz Cas is dead. Like how much clearer can it be? Like it’s literally a plea for time to turn back and for the relationship to go back to being as it was before all the mess Chuck and just the divorce era caused, but cannot since Cas is dead (Take me forever/forever ain’t long). And also, just this song screams Despair to me, it’s one of the saddest ones on the whole album, it reeks of grief. And it’s a direct call for Cas with the heaven line off the bat:

Also this part? This is mindspace for sobbing on the floor and 15x19 vibes for me.

Next is Every Light, the ultimate Dean song right? Well specifically this ties into 15x19 - telling Chuck he can just have his ending, just bring Cas back - and more importantly, and it’s also something I think we all heard, it’s about what shall not be named, the fucking 15x20 finale. I don’t need to bang on too much here but like, it’s even more than that. Because with TW 1x13 we find out he decided to stray from heaven while we were still mid ep 15x20 which means these are him going, hey I need to do sth about this, I need to figure out what’s wrong here, make sense of it and make it right cuz fuck this, I ain’t just taking this shit hand I’ve been given. Like I could literally put the whole song here but like imma put just some:

This is pure intergenerational trauma banging around in his head.

Ain’t no telling is next on the list and this is now heading into Winchester territory a bit, but not quite fully there. I see it as a continuation of the above aka I don’t want to go, but now that I’m gone and it’s not good, why is it not good, who am I after all, does anyone really know and does it really matter? And by anyone I do mean Cas tbh cuz like yea, it would make sense. The song literally says hey, you love me through all of it, despite me not always being sure who tf I am or how far away from each other we are, but we are still going to take advantage of every second we have. Basically this to me feels like a retrospective of the divorce arc put into context by the confession and this restlessness and need to find something Dean gets while in heaven. Like the 1st verse if soooo Dean I just can’t.

Ok now we get into shady waters a bit because You make me Blue is a bit of an outlier tbh, which considering I think this was written just by Steve, it makes sense, buuut I can still fit it in here seamlessly like this: this is sung to Chuck. This is the realization or resolution to the question posed by Ain’t no telling essentially. This unsureness of self isn’t lying with Dean alone, this was brought on by Chuck and his machinations so the anger in the song matches perfectly. Again, all of this til now has been gearing up to leave heaven but still on the road so to speak, still matching the 15x20 set of events, but his mind is running and trying to make sense of things. And what do we get with this song? We get “I’m finally happy being free/me”. We get a concretised sense of self once it’s been made clear in Dean’s mind just how much Chuck fucked with him (and if you’re a Chuck Won truther like me, how much Chuck is still doing, has the realisation that maybe Jack isn’t quite Jack here cuz sth is clearly wrong, but it doesn’t matter anymore, he knows who he is so Chuck/Jack’s influence can’t affect him anymore). And again this is the one song that matches least, but if we take it to be Dean having trusted Chuck to not be the villain (see him going to shoot Jack for that and promising to bring Mary back), then this still fits for me.

And now that we close this chapter we get to our 1st offender again: Keen on Rambling and the 1st one that is without any doubt taking place during The Winchesters. Like the whole song states everything that we’ve just been told happened throughout season 1. Like ok, verse 1 is deciding to leave heaven even though heaven is meant to be a place to rest (find peace whatever). Then verse 2 is giving the AU he finds himself in with the Akrida a nudge in the right direction (I’m sorry with the calvary in tow??, headed southbound for the season???)  And finally we get to the last one which to me is meeting the Core 4 but especially Mary and John and giving them the journal (I have a story to tell — do tell). So yea, but he’s not done tho. The song is constantly saying to keep on rambling so there’s more to do to get to where he needs to be, he’s still restless. But it is the beginning of this next chapter and the beginning of the second half of the album like I said. It matches soo fuckign well tbh and I’m going a bit insane here so take all this with a grain of salt tbh.

Ok so now that we’ve reached the current point in the Dean story we have 4 more songs. Which to me is basically where Dean needs to get to. 

And honestly a bit of Sweet Escape still fits into the finale for season 1 of TW so let’s get to it. This one is very much saying I’ve been caught red handed and people are trying to keep me contained but I refuse to stay put cuz there’s still shit I need to do/find. Like this is where my Chuck Won truthing hits worst tbh, but it could just be the Jack’s non interference thing too as well tbh, but the other voices that need to be drowned out are def Jack here, who took him back to heaven at the end of 1x13 of TW so this is basically saying you may have gotten me back here, but I’ll break outta the inclosure anyways, you can’t stop me, I’m not done. And with the 1st verse’ ending it feels like not only is he not done, but there’s a plan in motion here. Also I CANNOT overstate how much the 2nd verse makes me think of the Empty.

Return to Me is self explanatory tbh, but I’ll ramble a bit here too. This one answers the question of what he’s searching for, why he can’t stop moving, what’s missing for him to be happy. And what’s missing is a person that he lost aka Cas. Like I really don’t even need to say much here, this song is literally Dean going hey this is what I need to be happy, this is how that can happen. It fucking has the lakeside and raincoat mentions, it’s blatant tbh. And moreso, the last verse is just a reiteration of what we all lost our shit about with Watching over Me aka how did I not know you loved me back, how did I miss that until it was literally too late. 

Restless Man is a prayer to me basically and also the song I relate to the most tbh. So I’ll try not to get lost in the meanings here. But basically it’s Dean asking Cas to give him the space and reason to slow down. Not stop, because it’s still Dean and he can’t do that, but to give him a place or person where he can feel safe to take a break, where he can just be, where he can learn how to just be instead of constantly needing to do everything for everyone else. To have a place where he can just focus on himself a bit and what he needs and wants and how to embrace being happy. And more than just that, it’s saying that he’s finally ready to allow someone to take care of him for a bit, to have a place where he doesn’t need to be constantly on guard.

And it wraps up with Velvet Sky which in this case is the happy ending. Happy not because there’s “peace when you are done” like Jack says, but because now they have a place of their own to go to whenever they are weary of the road. The 1st verse to me is referring to Dean travels through the multiverse - literally seen all the land, every beach and grain of sand  because he literally went and saw all the possibilities for things, saw the wide expanse of the multiverse in search for this place and this person that he can now be with. And it’s not peace here, the sea is angry still, but it’s what works for them. It’ll never be perfect and it doesn’t need to be, Dean just needs this place and person to be free to just be himself and that no one else can reach or affect again, have his story be his own. 

So yea, this is the insanity my brain concocted last night after rewatching The Winchesters season 1 finale and having a random thought about Radio Company. And like I could’ve left it be and not traced any connections, but they fucking used the song in the show and then used Ramble On as the song to send the episode off. I couldn’t just ignore the relevance of that. 

But anyway, none of this could be accurate at the end of the day, but I had to get it out cuz it was stuck on repeat all night. Let me know what you guys think.

[trannydean-moved]

ur spn oc intrigues me so much. i couldn't find the post u mentioned this in so i may just be misremembering but i'm p sure u mentioned some sort of spn musician au with him? and i have been so curious about that pleaasse 🙏 i need to know the details

oh yeah!!! my au where dean is a musician 🥰🥰🥰 it's actually inspired by two different fanfics i like (texas state of mind by palominopup and starstruck by peanutbutterjelly-pie. tbh i haven't finished starstruck but i love what i've read so far). i love this one, but i don't have the most planned out for it yet 💔 but here's what i've got so far:

dean is a (probably country) musician who has had writer's block (or the song writing version of this?) for a hot minute and he's been really pressed into needing to get inspiration for something new. sometime makes him remember his two "best friends" (THEY WRRE ALL GAY FOR EACH OTHER. duh) from high school, and he suddenly gets inspiration for a song. it's a love song ofc, like he's confessing his feelings and expressing his sorrow of not keeping in contact with them, and talking about how he'll prolly never see em again so he's sad about that.

he writes it and records it and releases it, and it's a huge hit. there's also lots of controversy surrounding it because no pronouns outside of i/me/my are mentioned in it, and the two names used (jaime and cas) are both technically gender neutral! so everyone's like "okay is this two guys??? two girls???? a guy AND a girl???" (btw both jaime and cas are non-binary so HA none of those options are right 🥰). so like the song gets popular both bc it's a hit and bc it's talked about so much bc people are trying to puzzle out the entire context of the song.

meanwhile, both jaime and cas hear the song, whether it's because they keep up with dean even tho they haven't been in contact since the end of highschool, or they just hear it on the radio bc it's playing everywhere rn. both are shocked, bc like "🥹🥹 omg he remembers me... he remembers US". they've all been living separate lives for a while, it's been at least 15 years since they all last saw each other. like dean went to a college far away, cas and jaime lingered a little before they just moved on to do their own thing because dean was gone, and they didn't see the point of sticking around their old hometown, and it hurt too much to be together with dean not there as well. they were THEE trio!! they weren't whole without dean :(

and now all three of them seriously reminsce about their old high school "friendship" and it becomes painfully clear to all three of them that yeah. they weren't just friends. they definitely were more than that. but what can they do about that now??

well first thing's first, jaime decides to look cas up in the phone book of the place jaime last knew he was at. he's surprised and relieved to see cas' number was still there, and he calls cas. he's basically like "hey so have you heard what's been playing on the radio lately"

and cas is like "um yeah...."

"we should go see him"

"how the hell are we going to do that?? he doesn't just have his home address on his twitter profile 🙄 it's not going to be easy"

"oh come on, who ever says true love is easy?" and jaime says this mostly jokingly, like to break the ice of THAT conversation. despite how jokingly he says it, it's PRETTY obvious from the song that dean is in love with them both still, and he really misses them. dean is SO in love with them and really, jaime and cas feel the same too. and cas ends up agreeing, of course, because jaime is obviously right about meeting dean again.

cas and jaime meet up and are sooo awkward and silly while trying to figure out how they're going to see dean again. they find out when dean's next concert is and they decide that's a perfect place to reunite with dean. tho cas is like "it's going to be difficult for him to notice us when there's tens of thousands of people at the concert"

and jaime's like "we'll MAKE him notice us" and cas is quite worried about what that could mean.

unfortunately i haven't thought of how exactly they're going to get dean to notice them yet. but somehow they do, and dean is SO excited, and he puts his whole pussy into that concert just for them 💕💕💕

then they ofc reunite afterwards and there's lots of awkwardness bc NONE of these guys can be normal 🙄🙄🙄 BUT it's cute and it's going to be cool.

[shininglamp]

Sam’s Prank on Dean

Sam comes walking into the bunker, he’s carrying groceries and a shoe box under his arm, balancing his heavy jacket. Dean is sitting at the library actually looking up lore.

Sam: “Actually learning for a change?”

Dean: “And you? Properly slacking off for once?”

Sam: “So serious!” He laughs.

Dean: “what’s in the box?”

Sam: “hmm? Nothing really… salad or burgers for lunch?

Dean: “Don’t insult me.”

Sam, still all smiles, goes to make lunch. Dean is pleased with his burger and all is well… until he decides to go for a drive to clear his head.

The music is just a little different. At first, not realizing the change, Dean is ready to rock out to his tunes. Then… “Huh?” The gruff voiced singer is singing Madonna? What!? Quickly grabbing another cassette Dean is now faced with a rocking fusion of Sandman and Don’t Stop Believing. “SAM!!” Dean hangs a u turn on the empty road.

“ Bitch! Sacrilege!! HOW DARE YOU!” He’s using his big voice and extra angry face. “Where are they!!! Give them back!”

“Give what back?” Sam grins.

“My music!!!!”

“You didn’t like ‘Rock Sugar?’”

Dean pulls out his gun.

“All right, all right!” Sam laughs and tosses Dean the shoe box filled with Dean’s cassettes.

“My babies!” Dean almost fumbles the catch then cradles the box with exaggerated concern. He gives his little brother a dirty look and leaves for his drive again. Sam giggles, loving that his prank elicited the response he hoped for.

On a long drive back from a hunt a week later.

Dean is singing along to his music as usual. Rock You Like a Hurricane by Scorpions. Then, suddenly he riffs into Adele. “We coulda had it allllll!”

Sam: “Aha!!!”

Dean shuts his mouth, wide-eyed and mortified.

Sam: “So you DO like Rock Sugar!”

Dean: “what? No…” he tries to act casual. “ it just got stuck in my head..”

Sam: “From the one time you heard it?”

A few nights later.

Dean: “Cas!” Dean pokes his head out of his room.

The Angel looks tired but is intrigued at the boyish enthusiasm Dean is displaying.

Dean: “Where’s Sam?”

Cas: “Not here.”

Dean: “Perfect!” Pulls the Angel into his room and shuts the door. He starts to blast Rock Sugar’s “shook me like a prayer.”

Cas blinks in his pensive expression. Dean is belting out the words. “You call my name, it’s like an angel sighing!”

Sam comes home to hear the music through the halls. He opens Dean’s door. Seeing Dean and Cas do the song as a duet, both smiling ear to ear. Dean jumps off his bed and sees his little brother staring. He stops the music, and Cas turns around and sees why.

Sam: “So, fusion rock is sacrilege is it?”

Dean: lifting chin calmly. “Why yes, Sam. It is. I’m teaching Cas about what real music is.”

Cas: “I like this one…”

Dean: “Shh!” Turns to Sam. “See what I have to work with?” Cas frowns. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private moment with my favorite angel.” Sam stutters. Dean wraps his arms around Cas. Cas is confused. Dean tries to sell it and even glides his hands through Cas’ hair and smiles at Sam. Batts his eyes a few times. Then seeing Sam has become petrified in confusion, politely closes the door on his little brother’s face.

Dean: “Do you think he bought it?”

Cas: “I don’t think anyone would believe us as a couple.” The brows furrow.

Dean: “why not? Aren’t I pretty?”

Cas: Almost gets lost in Dean’s princess eyes. “That’s beside the point.” He clears his throat. “I liked the song.”

Dean: “Absolutely! But I will never give Sam the satisfaction of knowing that.”

Cas: “Okay. But can this be our song?”

Dean smiles. “I’ll make sure you have a copy.”