#which is wild because Dean can be absolutely fucking terrifying

[jamevaa]

Happy Wincest Wednesday!

Prompt: This dynamic right here. It's hard to see, but there is maybe a shoulder-pat or something going on in the background. A job well done, even if Dean's intervention probably wasn't necessary (Sam's loom and glare would probably work on its own). But look how happy Dean is; of course he deserves a headpat for a job well done.

[eyrieofsynapses]

Redemption Panel Highlights and Reactions

GATORS

i.e., Beth Riesgraf and Christian Kane (mostly Beth) talking about filming the scenes in (what I presume is) The Rollin’ on the River Job, where they’re pulling some stuff out of the water, and finding out the next day that there was an absolutely massive alligator pulled out of the same place just a little while after they filmed it

Beth’s impression of the wildlife folks warning them about the alligators

Beth scaring the hell out of Noah Wyle by yelling “GATOR” at him just after he finished his scene

seriously that was an absolutely WILD part of the panel

Everyone showering Aleyse Shannon with literally all the love!

Aldis Hodge in particular big-brothering her, and also the older actors calling her out for not giving herself enough credit, and Dean Devlin talking about how she blew him away at the auditions with her ability to turn on a dime

Seeing Kane with his glasses off wiping at his eyes, momentarily thinking “you okay dude?” and then realizing that he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes

(same)

The The Bucket Job clip! I’ve been a bit meh on a lot of Redemption, just in how it didn’t feel quite right, but that is possibly the absolute closest I’ve seen it get to the original in the best way. Brilliant

Which comes as no surprise since BETH RIESGRAF directed the episode!!! And apparently put an insane amount of effort in!

Beth’s utter delight and joy at both directing the episode and having the crew behind her

THE CHAIR

So apparently she and Christian went to town on the fight scene and he winds up tied up in a chair somewhere along the line and there’s a whole wild scene, which I am really looking forward to

Beth knowing how insanely particular he’d be about things like zip ties vs rope and what kind of rope e.t.c. e.t.c.

Apparently this is also tied into a VERY DEEP scene with Eliot? It sounds like they’re going to go super hard on his backstory, which is terrifyingly exciting

Just. Beth and Christian going very hard on that episode together

Speaking of: the panel’s going amazingly, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts, things are relatively light, and then, of fucking course—

Kane hitting us over the head about Eliot being a mass murderer who can’t be redeemed, is trying to stay static so that he can maintain the place he’s in, and is thus LIVING VICARIOUSLY THROUGH HARRY

What the FUCK. This is of course incredibly insightful and perfectly on point (because it’s Kane) but also, EXCUSE ME, OUCH, why would you DO THAT to us?

Everyone talking about having their families on set and their kids!

Beth’s son growing up on the original Leverage set and now going into being a director himself!

Gina’s daughter also growing up on set!

Noah Wyle’s daughter is playing Harry’s daughter I REPEAT NOAH WYLE’S ACTUAL DAUGHTER IS PLAYING AS HARRY’S DAUGHTER

Gina Bellman remaining relatively stoic throughout much of the panel (seriously, this woman, how the heck does she do it) and then losing it when they’re asked about running/inside jokes

A lot of them are, of course, apparently not appropriate to be spoken on-panel

(A lot of the others are the little inside ones that are special enough not to be ones they want to share, which is sweet!)

Everyone collectively losing it over having LeVar Burton on for The Bucket Job

Devlin and everyone laughing about collecting the various Star Trek people on Leverage

Beth talking about Burton coming over while she’s getting ready and asking her if she’s living on coffee and water, her laughing because he was absolutely right, and then him gently reminding her to remember to eat, which is the sweetest thing in the world oh my gods

Kane apparently choreographing an intense scene with Burton and being scared out of his mind, because Burton really wanted to go for it, but to Kane it was like he’s a figurine that’s not to be messed with because he was so worried about hurting him

Kane choreographing a massive amount of the show, which I knew already, but seriously, this guy blows me away

Gina and the crew talking about how he’d be away for a day of shooting a fight and all of them would be missing him and thinking about him

Family Vibes

Everyone talking about how they’re very noisy and loud together on set and it’s a bit like walking into a group of people having Christmas dinner (or something to that effect) because they’re just Like That together

Aleyse being the most surprised by Beth when she met her because she was like a little angel of light during the auditions but turned out to be an absolute ball of wild energy on set

Gina going “wait you were a MODEL” at Beth

Aldis talking about how much he loved how Parker and Hardison’s relationship had developed and grown!

Also, Aldis apologizing when the New York (iirc) background noise got loud and everyone going “no no we get you”

His outfit is ON POINT today

Gina saying that Christian is the goofiest and wildest out of them in terms of humor

(she goes “some of you may not know this,” which, fair, but also, if you’ve seen more than ten minutes of this guy outside of character you know he’s an absolute ball of sunshine)

Gina, Beth, and Christian talking about how they’d challenge each other to stay off sweets back on the original set, because they knew they needed to stay in shape and also just because they’re competitive (apparently all of them are major sweet tooths) and hide brownies and things from each other, while Aldis is just. doing pushups. eating all the healthy stuff. and then wanders into the room with a literal cupful of chocolates

(and Aldis going “well yeah I have to work off the sweets SOMEHOW”)

Beth explaining that sometimes they’d order a “Kane burrito” from Christian and he’d alter it slightly

Like, you know, chopping up hot jalapenos super fine and mixing them in, and Beth practically not being able to talk after the first bite

Apparently Aldis still went back a lot even after that

(Christian just seems very pleased with himself over it)

(THESE PEOPLE)

Gina goes “hey we should have an episode where we all swap roles,” Devlin going “WAIT FOR SEASON ONE TO BE DONE,” and then somebody (maybe the moderator?? I don’t remember exactly) going “uh actually. We did that”

Cue immediate scramble of “WAIT WHICH JOB WAS THAT”

(paraphrasing) “Yeah you remember the bit where you put on Parker’s harness and went off a building?”

Turns out half the cast had actually forgotten that that existed and only remember when reminded

The original cast all think of the episodes as “jobs”!!!!

Everyone talking over each other, Devlin going “it was with Sterling when we blew up the offices,” deciding that it was the season one finale, and then trying to figure out what episode title it was (eventually they figure out it’s the David jobs)

Moderator and Devlin accurately commenting that the fans know the show much better than they do

Noah Wyle very correctly explaining how Electric Entertainment is like a family and Devlin just. Keeps people

Aleyse and Aldis talking about typing when they’re hacking and going “WHAT THE HECK DO WE TYPE”

Aldis goes “yeah I just type all the bad words that we’re not allowed to say”

Aleyse saying that she’s always a little worried they’re hiding a Word document behind the blue screen and they’re going to pull up what she’s typing at the end of the day and print it out and put it in her trailer going “what the HECK is this”

Noah talking about filming The Golf Job and just getting to direct Jason Marsters and Christian together

Apparently their dynamic in that episode accurately mirrors the one with their characters in Angel!

Which promptly goes straight to the comment that it was very hard to make Marsters look like a golfer (pfft)

(Also apparently Christian plays golf for fun with his friends? Not necessarily something I would’ve thought of!)

Aleyse happily talking about how she loved the dynamic on set and it was very different from what she was used to

Also Aleyse talking about doing stunts and everyone else praising her for going whole hog

Beth especially praising her for the bit where she’s hit with the paralysis injection (I don’t remember which ep it’s from) and her acting for it, because it was incredibly hard to drop off screen in the particular way she did

Aleyse promptly answers that she was terrified with some of those, especially one where she had to keep a clock from falling and breaking

Everyone discussing how they see a new aspect of Breanna’s character in The Train Job

Also, to get serious for a moment, Kate Rorick in particular talks about how Breanna’s part of Gen Z and how we didn’t get the “days of yore” where everything was chill. We’ve basically been living in a world of hostility the whole time. It’s something I deeply appreciate, as someone who’s part of that group, and I love how they emphasize that for us.

This panel was pure chaos and I loved every moment of it! My stomach was actually hurting from laughing so hard, I swear. They had me cackling well over half the time. I would happily take panels double or triple the length of this, this was amazing. I also adore how the second you drop these six people in a room together, they immediately take off and literally just run and give you everything you wanted and more. (It is also evidently very hard to get them to STOP talking.)

I’m also just going to stop and take a second to fawn over the effects for the 3D room. It’s gorgeous—I love how they replicated the headquarters, especially with the stained glass ceilings! Super impressive, especially with all the photos, and I just love the whole thing. Kudos to whoever put that together.

Anyway, I’m definitely missing some stuff too; seriously, there wasn’t a second wasted in this thing, they were cracking some kind of joke or dropping some really interesting piece of information practically every thirty seconds. (And I haven’t even gotten into the clips OR the bloopers. I miiiight do a separate reaction purely for those.) It’s still up right now if you missed it and you want to watch it! I’ll probably watch it again, honestly.

[fanfic-corner]

Destiel

It’s my birthday tomorrow, and to celebrate, I’ve compiled a list of my favourite fics! I’ve read a lot of Destiel fics over the past year, but these are the ones that have stuck with me the most. I’ve not put as much detail in as I usually do because otherwise we would be here forever, but I am begging you to read these fics. They’re all amazing.

Kiss You When It’s Dangerous by zoemathemata (@zoemathemata) on AO3. (57,593 words).

It’s adorable. The plot is fabulous. It’s my all time favourite fic. Please, I am begging you, just read it.

Stand By Me by whelvenwings (@whelvenwings) on AO3. (31,252 words).

The first Destiel fic I ever read, and it’s managed to stay with me this whole time.

Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseoftefallenone on AO3. (389,271 words).

The pining is unbearable but it’s all worth it in the end. The ultimate slow burn.

The Tea is Decaf by mnwood (@tomhardysteeth) on AO3. (3,673 words).

Cas is adorable. Eileen is adorable. Everyone is adorable.

a turn of the earth by microcomets on AO3. (95,274 words).

Of course I’ll rec the ultimate John Winchester bashing fic. The plot is so amazing and it is written excellently.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance on AO3. (31,820 words).

This was beautifully written, made me cry, and the ending haunts me to this day.

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison (@aaziraphales) on AO3. (68,689 words).

Jesus Christ, I have not read another fic where these two are such blatant idiots. That being said... I love it. Everything about it is amazing.

the cost of a thing by quiettewandering (@wanderingcas) on AO3. (74,198 words).

So cute! All the angst! My all time favourite trope and absolutely the best take on it!

In All Your Borrowed Finery by vanishingact (@vanishingactblog) on AO3. (67,950 words).

Okay this is adorable and you can’t convince me otherwise. Every time I read a fic with Gabriel in, I miss him just a bit more.

Down Like Water by museaway (@museaway) on AO3. (14,512 words).

I reread this occasionally just to feel something. I literally had to check if I misread the tags like 3 times and I cry every. single. time.

Partnered by K_K_TiBal (@thebloggerbloggerfun) on AO3. (28,112 words).

This is so fucking cute. The artwork is gorgeous. And, now I ship Jody and Donna. All round win.

Black Swans by omphalos and Wolfling on AO3. (66,455 words).

Okay so maybe this is more Sabriel than Destiel, but it was written amazingly and the plot was phenomenal!

this is a good thing, dean (prayer is a sign of faith) by cascountsdeansfreckles on AO3. (529 words).

The one time Cas can’t hear his prayers... I had to include a 15x18 fic in here somewhere, and this one set me off.

Purgatory, director’s cut by runsinthefamily on AO3. (23,722 words).

This was beautiful. It felt hypnotic, almost like poetry, and I absolutely cried at the end.

The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas (@coffeeandcas) on AO3. (111,351 words).

This was gorgeous! Dean and Cas as parents was adorable, and Jimmy was such a fucking icon I don’t even know where to start. Also, not the weirdest past Cas ship I’ve ever seen (but it’s up there).

Broadway Musical by Griftings on AO3. (12,453 words).

The King and Queen of the crack fics. I adore the ‘did you fuck the Michael sword’ vibes and the formatting just makes everything so much funnier.

How Many Slams In An Old Screen Door [podfic] by Tenoko1 (@tenoko1) on AO3. (1hr 50mins).

Before we were shoved back into lockdown, I used to listen to podfics on the way to/from school, and this has to be my all time favourite so far. The asexual representation was fantastic, the plot was hilarious, and (as always) it was read beautifully.

When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone on AO3. (24,666 words).

This has to be thee funniest fic ever written. I don’t make the rules.

Boneless Wings by PallasPerilous (@pallasperilous) on AO3. (4,333 words).

The art is gorgeous (I’d literally just finished watching Pan’s Labyrinth which was terrifying) and it was such a brilliant parody of all the other wing fics out there (not that I don’t love them too!)

Grace by july_19th_club (@july-19th-club) on AO3. (5,164 words).

This was gorgeous and now I really want to see it filmed! It is so much better than the ending we got. I would say the author should work for them, but... frankly, they deserve better.

It Started With a Fanfic Competition by Tenoko1 (@tenoko1) on AO3. (124,487 words).

This was written beautifully. It was so wholesome, not afraid to call the characters out on their usual bullshit, and has genuinely more character development than the entire 15 year long show.

Serendipity by whelvenwings (@whelvenwings) on AO3. (23,891 words).

I absolutely adored every character in this (and thoroughly enjoyed guessing who was going to show up next!) and the plot was fabulous!

The Mute!Cas ‘verse by Princess_Aleera on AO3. (148,656 words).

Oh man. I wasn’t sure at first, but this is now maybe my favourite universe out there. The fluff was unbelievably fluffy, the angst was quality pain, and that’s without mentioning the fact the end had me ugly sobbing. On Christmas Eve.

When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth by Mishafied on AO3. (68,926 words).

Oh my lord, what about this isn’t amazing? The casting was fabulous, the amount of research was obvious and really paid off, and I mean... Jurassic Park AU! It made me desperate to rewatch the films, too.

The Passion of the Christ (and his angelic ex-boyfriend) by Bzzee (@clarafordahwin) on AO3. (4,972 words).

I am going straight to Hell, and it is because of this fic right here. That being said, this is top quality crack and I’ve sent it to everyone I know just for the trip (two of them had never watched SPN. One asked me if Jesus was actually in it).

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow on AO3. (352,388 words).

I won’t spoil it, but one of the best plot twists of all time! The exploration of Dean & Cas’ relationship, the detail put into the lore, the foreshadowing... amazing.

Apres by imogenbynight (@imogenbynight) on AO3. (24,045 words).

This was so adorable - Cas and Dean deserved a holiday in France!

I hope you enjoyed them! I’ve really been struck - especially over quarantine - with appreciation for all the writers out there who are giving us this professional quality content for free. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you, which is why I’ve done my best to hunt you down and tag you so you can take my love! There are a hundred other fics that I could have included on here as well, or ones that I’ve read since making this list. Thank you all so much for giving us these wonderful stories!

[naitiaclo960writings]

Day 14 - Fun & Games

The evening was already well advanced when Dean decided to turn off his computer and take a break from his essay. That last year at engineering degree was starting to give him a hard time and, frankly, he was looking forward to graduating and being hired somewhere. Hopefully, he would find a job in the same city and not have to look for another apartment.

It’s been 3 years since he shared a place with his best friend Castiel and things suited him perfectly like they were. Castiel had already been in the active life for two years, working as a heritage officer at the Kansas City Museum, but sharing the rent of their apartment was a relief for everyone. Moreover, they had now settled into a comfortable routine that gave rhythm to their lives in the most pleasant way. Most often, they would invite friends on Friday nights and spend an evening together over a beer. Saturday was reserved for a video game night where Castiel often ended up winning and bequeathing his dishes tour of the week to Dean. Sunday night was a mix of movies and popcorn while Tuesday was a board game night. On Wednesdays, finally, they always ordered from the Japanese caterer on the corner of the street and zapped between Netflix and YouTube until they were too tired to put away their plates and left them on the coffee table in the living room.

Dean stretched out at his desk before he got up. He quietly shut off his laptop and put down the glasses he used for work on top, massaging the back of his neck gently. When he turned off the light from his desk, his room was plunged into darkness and, as if to confirm the late hour, his belly began to grumble softly.

"Okay…" He sighed while putting a hand on his belly. It was time for him to return to the real world.

Outside, he heard Castiel moving a few pots and he smiled softly. He could always count on his friend to cook for them when he was too immersed in his own classes to care, and truly, Castiel was not such a bad cook as he claimed. Dean walked blindly to his door and opened it to a good smell of melted cheese. Growling with envy and a tenfold appetite, he approached the kitchen to find his roommate tidying up some kitchen utensils, the oven gently purring behind him. Dean leaned against the central island with a relaxed smile.

"What’s up, chief?" Dean asked, raising his voice in the hope of surprising Castiel.

The latter did not even jump, probably having heard him arrive without showing it. He put away the spatula he had in his hand before responding to Dean with a smile on his face.

"Four cheeses Mac’n’Cheese!" Castiel proudly announced, turning to him.

"Wow." Dean said, raising his eyebrows, truly surprised. "And what did I do to deserve one of my favorite comfort foods tonight?"

Castiel smiled even more and shrugged, returning to his storage. He took the time to rinse a knife before answering.

"You hardly left your room in the afternoon, I thought you might need a pick-me-up."

And it was as simple as that. It has now been 7 years since Dean and Castiel met, they had found each other at school and had not really left each other since. As a result, Castiel was obviously able to read Dean like an open book and the opposite was also true. They were confidants for each other, brothers almost, pillars on which to lean when everything went too fast around them. Dean and Castiel had actually painted the town red in high school before going to enter together into the terrifying life of a student or, for Castiel, an active worker. Above all, they had always been there for each other. Dean had been more than present during the divorce of Castiel’s parents and the ensuing family debacle, he had even taken his friend out of a very bad drug past for which Castiel would be forever grateful. Castiel, meanwhile, had supported Dean when Mary Winchester had lost her battle against a disease and John spent about most of his time at the bar, drowning his grief while his sons remained helpless at home. Dean no longer counted the number of times Castiel had welcomed him and Sam into his home simply to give them a break from everything else.

Such events bound destinies for a long time when they were lived like this. However, although Dean cherished his friendship with Castiel more than anything, he had to face reality about a year earlier. Dean was not particularly known for his long introspections, but he was obliged to admit after several months of living together that his friendship with Castiel had perhaps turned into a more concrete and disabling feeling in his situation.

Okay, maybe he had a thing for Castiel. A little bit. Okay, good time! He wasn’t even sure it was mutual, so he certainly wasn’t going to waste 7 years of friendship on a simple… feeling? For God’s sake, he had spent whole evenings struggling with this very question, thinking about it again and again until he got migraines, and he had finally come to the conclusion that if he did not have absolute confirmation of the reciprocity of his feelings, then he wouldn’t try anything. It may have been giving up without a fight, but whatever he had was too valuable to make decisions lightly. It was not even certain that Castiel liked men! Well, yes, perhaps, his friend qualified himself as"pansexual". What Dean always said to him was that it was just "being a fucking care bear, but more complicated, just to piss me off."

Anyway, after months of internal debate, Dean always found himself in the middle of that kitchen, with a best friend and roommate he loved a little more every day, but to which he had to continue pretending to maintain the ideal routine in which they had settled. Dean smiled tenderly at Castiel, who had now finished tidying up the kitchen and, realizing that he might have been staring at him for a little too long now, he sighed and went to the couch to choose their program.

They ate in a good mood in front of a horror film so lame that Dean was seized with a hysterical laugher in the middle and nearly choked on a macaroni. For dessert, Dean got up and came back with two ice creams — vanilla for him and a much more sophisticated taste for Castiel like wild mango or whatever — to finish their meal. Surprisingly, Dean was not particularly tired despite his long day of work and considering the energy that Castiel still had in front of the film, neither was his friend. When the credits began to scroll on the screen, Dean sighed.

"What time do you start tomorrow?" He asked in an innocent tone.

Castiel stretched out on the couch before falling back heavily into it.

"At 11:00, I’m closing." He said, grimacing. "But I won’t be spitting on some extra sleep, really."

Dean let out a contemplative "mmh" before turning to his friend.

"Does that mean you’re up for continuing the night a little longer? I’m starting late tomorrow too, and I admit that I’d like to enjoy the last few hours of the weekend without thinking about my damn essay." Dean pouted.

At these words, Castiel laughs softly and Dean already knew his answer by the expression of his face alone.

"What do you propose?" Castiel asked, raising a defiant eyebrow.

Dean took a short moment to think before his gaze landed on the drawer in which all their board games rested. Immediately, his brain set out to lead him towards an idea that would gradually stretch a malicious smile on his face. Of course, he had long established that he could not reveal his feelings to Castiel, but that did not mean that he could not take advantage of them here and there when the opportunity presented itself.

"A card game?" Dean suggested, turning an angelic face to Castiel again. "Do you know how to play poker?"

Castiel frowned and tilted his head slightly to the side, as was always the case when a situation confused him somehow.

"Uh… I can’t say I do, no. It always seemed rather complicated to me when I saw you playing that during parties." Castiel replied slowly, his blue and curious eyes fixed on Dean.

"It’s pretty simple once you understand the basics!" Dean assured, already bending over to open the drawer with his plan still in mind. "I can teach you if you want, it’ll save you from getting ripped off by Gabriel the next time we play."

As he hoped, these words seemed to unlock something in Castiel’s mind, for his friend straightened himself up with new interest before nodding.

"Okay, but only on one condition." He said, raising his eyebrows. "We don’t bet money. I already have to pay Charlie back because of our last night together."

Dean laughs softly at the mention of that stupid bet that Castiel had royally lost while he was reinstalling himself on the couch with the card game in hand.

"Okay, okay. That’s fine with me. But we still need to spice things up or poker is a lot less fun." He pretended to think for a moment under Castiel’s innocent gaze before resuming. "For lack of something better... we can consider a strip poker?"

As these words left his mouth, Dean felt his heart speed up in his chest. Of course, he had already seen Castiel half-naked many times before, and although he had always appreciated what he saw there, he had to admit that this context would be otherwise amusing. Nevertheless, Castiel remained forbidden and inexpressive so long before him that Dean quickly lost his smile.

"I mean, no… Of course not, I was joking. What-"

"Strip poker works for me." Castiel cut off.

His friend had answered so confidently that Dean was caught off guard for a moment before he could recover. Castiel agreed with his idea, really?

"But it’s quite uneven." Castiel replied, pouting. "You already know the rules, I’ll be naked in less than ten minutes."

That’s the idea, Dean thought. But as he still had compassion for Castiel, he looked around before he got up.

"Mix the cards, I’ll come back." He said to Castiel.

Quickly, he arrived in the kitchen and began searching in the cupboard just below the central island.

"Do we have any bottles left from Friday?" Dean asked as his eyes swept over the contents of the closet.

"I think Benny left a bottle of sherry, yes." Castiel replied from the living room.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. Sherry, seriously… Did Benny think he was a modern-day pirate or something?

"It’s an insult to call Sherry alcohol when you’re under 40, but… fine." Dean said while grabbing the said bottle before heading out in search of tumblers.

"It’s more of a set of brandy-cut wines, actually, but you did you know that-"

"Cas." Dean sighed again as he returned to the salon with his findings.

He did not need to look in the direction of Castiel to know that he had rolled his eyes heavily. Dean reinstalled himself in the sofa and placed the sherry bottle and the tumblers on the coffee table. He began his explanation while serving the first cup.

"Well, the rules are simple. If you lose a turn in poker, you take off one piece of clothing and the last one naked wins." He grabbed another tumbler. "However... Since I am an extremely nice and magnanimous teacher, we will have three jokers each." Dean pointed to the liquor bottle. "Therefore, if you lose a match, you have the right to choose to drink a shot bottom up rather than take off clothes. We’ll have three jokers each for the whole night. Is that all right, Mr. Know-it-all?"

Castiel did not pay attention to the comment and watched Dean pour the last shot with special attention. He seemed to be much more focused than he wanted to appear until then, and Dean restrained a smile. Castiel had always been a competitor.

"If the three jokers are only usable for the whole evening, then three is not enough." Castiel protested. "I really don’t know anything about it! Allow us at least five? Please?" He added with a more than pronounced pleading expression that came straight to Dean’s heart.

He rolled his eyes before taking out four new cups.

"Yeah, yeah, if you want. Five jokers each then, but don’t expect that to save you from not exposing those gorgeous leopard panties that I gave you for Thanksgiving last year." Dean replied with a mocking smile.

Castiel pushed him with his foot from the other end of the couch and kept his mouth shut on the fact that he, at least, was not knowingly buying Scooby-Doo underwear. Nevertheless, he let go of the remark and straightened himself up on the couch as Dean began to deal the cards. Judging by the smile on Dean’s face, he was more than confident.

* * *

Turns out Castiel was either a damn good liar or he had a freaking knack for poker. Dean continued to bitch in his corner while he was already in his underwear and socks on the couch, his five empty sherry glasses on the coffee table while three on Castiel’s side were still full. Not to mention the fact that Castiel was still perfectly dressed and even sprawled out among the blankets in a casual attitude that only offended Dean more.

He himself was curled up and kept staring at his cards with a sullen expression, alcohol already making him spin his head to make matters worse.

"You’re sulking." Castiel unnecessarily remarked as he was knocking down other cards on their improvised playground.

"I’m not- Damn it, seriously!" Dean suddenly exclaimed in a raging gesture as Castiel won that round again." Dude, I don’t have any more clothes to take anything off!"

Castiel raised an almost cruel eyebrow.

"You still have your socks. Why didn’t you take them off first anyway?" He asked, tilting his head one more time to the side.

Dean simply groaned as an answer and placed his card game with ill-humor on the armrest of the couch. The truth was that he had always been a little chilly in their apartment, whatever the temperature indicated by the thermometer, but he preferred to stand naked in front of Castiel ten times than to admit it in person. Eventually, he began to pull on his left sock reluctantly before letting the poor piece of cloth fall to the ground. If he got sick because of that damn game he started himself, he’d never play poker again.

By attending to his friend’s obvious bad faith, Castiel had to restrain a smile. Eventually, poker was quite instinctive according to him and he even enjoyed playing it now.

"We do one last game before we go to sleep?" Castiel asked, putting the cards together and mixing them again.

Dean sighed loudly.

"What, so I can go back to my room barefoot and bare-bottomed?" Dean grumbled.

Castiel rolled his eyes and began dealing the cards in silence, ignoring Dean’s bad loser attitude and his naked and shivering body before him for a moment. He briefly thought about an alternative before biting his inner cheek with apprehension considering to the direction in which his thoughts were going. Maybe these two sherry cups finally got to his brain... Castiel had never held his liquor very well. However, he was the first to be surprised — and mortified — by the forbidden words that came out of his mouth:

"I have another idea. For the last match, I’ll give you an extra joker." Castiel began, feeling a knot in his stomach as to the turn the events would soon take.

"Mmh?" Dean replied with a questioning look, his curiosity obviously bringing him a new interest.

"If I beat you again on this game…" He handed Dean a few cards, face down. "You will have the right to refuse to take your clothes off. But in that case, you will have to trust me and let me… challenge you? 

Dean raised an eyebrow before turning completely to Castiel, sitting cross-legged on the couch. He remained silent for a moment before taking a deep breath and finally grabbing the cards that Castiel handed him.

"… Will I regret it again?" Dean asked seriously.

Castiel swallowed. He had no good answer to this question. Was he himself certain of what he was doing? Not at all. But he needed Dean to play tonight, because right now, he felt brave.

"No." He lied.

Dean seemed to gauge him for a moment before finally nodding. Thus, another game engaged in a silence filled with concentration. Both of them knew there was a real stake in this game even though Dean was advancing blindly this time. No matter the outcome of the game, he already knew that he would choose Castiel’s challenge, just because he was a player and possessed a curiosity far too strong for his own good. Moreover, this redness that he had thought had subtly appeared on Castiel’s face when he had imposed his condition did not cease to come to torture his mind. He needed to know.

Of course, as if it had been bound to happen, Dean would put his cards down on the couch just to see his chances of winning be wiped out by Castiel a few seconds later. His shoulders dropped heavily, the adrenaline of the game diminishing to give way to defeat. He did not say a word, hardly surprised though, and looked up at Castiel who offered him a compassionate smile. Dean sighed and clasped his hands before him, shrugging.

"Okay Doc Holliday, you got me cowboy…" Dean pouted. "Okay… Joker. What should I do?"

Castiel suddenly seemed nervous in front of him, which did not help Dean relax. He frowned slightly, uncertain, while Castiel laid all the cards on the table.

"I.... I need you to close your eyes. It has to be a surprise or I.... Anyway. Close your eyes please." Castiel stuttered in front of him.

Dean watched him for a moment without saying anything before finally taking a discreet breath and closing his eyes. As soon as the living room disappeared around him, Castiel’s beautiful face faded behind his eyelids as he tried to ignore his crazy heart beating in his chest. The atmosphere had suddenly become special in their apartment, and this since Castiel had brought up the challenge. Dean’s instincts were yelling at him that this was the ultimate time to trust his friend, because something important was going to happen. He could not explain it more than that, he knew it, that’s all.

Dean remained as calm as possible as he tried to listen to what was going on around him. In the first place, only Castiel’s quick breathing made itself heard while Dean remained straight in his place, gently squeezing his hands against each other to control the nerves that he felt rising in him. After a few seconds, he heard movement in front of him and felt the couch rise a little, as if his friend had just changed position. Suddenly, he felt this same rapid breath close to his face and frowned gently, confused. When he could endure it no longer, Dean opened his mouth slightly to ask the question that he was dying to ask before his lips were covered by warm, wet others. Sweet and yet trembling.

Dean opened wide, astonished eyes, in shock as his heart missed another beat. Immediately, he fell upon Castiel’s face, gently close to his own, and swallowed a surprised exclamation which had gone up his throat. The kiss was not really one while Castiel quickly stepped back with nervousness to look into Dean’s eyes, their faces still close and frozen in the moment. Dean looked at Castiel who was looking back at him and everything was crumbling around them in a silence filled with electricity and unspoken confusion. Dean felt like dying and being reborn at the same time, silently in that body that suddenly seemed so narrow to him.

"You…?" Dean whispered, even if he never managed to finish his sentence.

Castiel feverishly licked his lower lip before shaking his head imperceptibly, the face so devastated by the fear of rejection at the moment that Dean felt like he had fallen into his worst nightmare. He could not bear such an expression on Castiel’s face, Cas who had kissed him, Cas who was afraid of his reaction, Cas who cared for him right now. Castiel who loved him.

In a surge of combativeness and surely relief, Dean filled the space between their mouths again and slipped one of his hands to the back of Castiel’s neck to keep him close, preventing him from escaping this time. Once the surprise has passed for Castiel, Dean could almost see his whole body lighten up and melt into their shared kiss. This simple contact seemed to open so many doors that they were too blind to see before that Dean almost had his head spinning. Did Cas have at least as much desire as he had for him the whole time? He tightened his grip around his roommate’s body, he needed to hold on to something so he wouldn’t fall right away.

But he fell anyway when Castiel gently pushed him onto the sofa so that he lay down under him. Later that night he fell again into this large bed in Castiel's room, his lips unable to leave the body of the other as if he desired to make every inch of him feel loved. He fell and fell and fell all night long, tumbling down into the most exquisite and liberating of the falls as a smile split their two faces in the frenzy of the moment. Dean kept falling, but he didn’t do it alone, clinging to the one thing he had never hoped for in recent years and that he could finally touch with his fingers now.

Finally, he was unable to remain angry with Castiel for having beaten him at poker, just as he was unable to detach himself from him that night. As the sun’s rays filtered through the closed shutters of Castiel’s room, Dean gently caressed his lover’s face in the hollow of the pillow with a new, fascinated tenderness. He barely waited until Castiel opened his eyes to steal another kiss before whispering against his lips.

"Hey… I have no fucking idea what happened to my remaining sock yesterday."

When Castiel let out a hoarse chuckle before drawing him closer to himself, Dean promised to do everything to hear this sound every morning now. They were going to need more games night from now on…

* * * @winchester-reload​

Yep, I’m late haha, sorry! It took me a while to write this one but no worries, I’ll post day 15 and day 16 today too. I’m really proud of this OS, don’t hesitate to come and talk about it with me in the comments!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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[pallasperilous]

22

Wordcount: 840. Content warning for implied/referenced substance abuse and mental health issues.

Twenty-two. That's the age Sam's picked for Jack on all of his IDs; easy to remember, old enough that Dean can send him on beer runs. They're minting twenty-two year olds out of babies born in 1997, now, which should probably terrify him, but instead it just feels vaguely reassuring. Proof that the world didn't end with them. 

Not yet, anyhow.

Sometimes he falls down the rabbit hole, thinking about the rickety tower of resentments and unmetered ego that added up to a Sam at that age. Some of the gobsmackingly clueless shit he unloaded on Dean after the abrupt conclusion of his four-year tour of the realms of privilege – a venture quietly purchased for Sam at the bargain basement cost of (what a coincidence) twenty-two years of Dean’s one wild and precious life. Not so much biting the hand that fed him as pissing onto it.

It's no kind of apology, but he’s told Dean plenty of times since that he’s truly over it – that original fantasy, the thing he left for. Velcroing himself before the end of freshman orientation to a smart, funny girl who went home over Christmas break to sleep in her flawlessly preserved childhood bedroom. Going into some righteously underpaid corner of the law, buying a starter house, adopting dogs with tragic backstories, switching to a digital subscription to the New Yorker because the print ones were starting to really pile up on the coffee table.

And, not that it would matter to Dean at this point, not that it even matters to Sam at this point, because it’s all been relitigated six-hundred and sixty-six ways to Sunday, but –

– but Sam is now completely certain of this fact: Sammy Does Normal would have been a complete and utter shitshow. Gods and monsters aside, he never would’ve made it to the coffee table stage. Not even if it came from IKEA.

Because Sam is Very Smart, and he tests like a fiend, but he figured out about one week into his first semester that he absolutely did not possess the sharklike, effortless brilliance of a scary number of his classmates. Papers that took him three nights of bashing away in the computer lab rattled off their laptops in the hour before class; they grazed up against some abstruse logical concept and internalized it before lunchtime while he was still doggedly beating out its name, rank and serial number.

At first he’d hoped that it was just some overdue socioeconomic catch-up, but a quick survey of his hallmates at Schiff robbed him of that illusion, too. Rich kids, poor kids, kids who’d had it worse (though not weirder) than he did: it didn’t matter. He was a leggy mutt on a greyhound track.

That left him exactly two options. One of those involved a collect payphone call and complete ego suicide, and the other involved gutting it the fuck out.

So he yoked his entirely adequate smarts to the Winchester-brand twin engines of obsessive persistence and existential terror, and floored it for the next four years. Two hours of sleep, knowledge maintenance drills, psycho case boards with the News of the Weird swapped out for German philosophers and Plessy v. Ferguson.

And he knows, from everything he has experienced since, that the tank was going to run empty eventually. He would’ve hit run up against his limit somewhere in the first year of law school, maybe. Would’ve let Jess talk him into taking some time off to recuperate, to “just be a person for awhile.”

Then, without the North star of his Grand Plan To Get Out Of The Life hitting him like a spotlight from above, he would’ve slowly careened off into the darkness. He would’ve taken some menial office job to pay the rent and not feel like a total deadbeat, and then he would’ve started to feel like he belonged there, or deserved to be there, maybe, and so he would’ve gradually started drinking, or using – probably using, because he could pretend it was some unique expression of his personality to pop uppers instead of drinking downers.

And he would’ve gotten increasingly weird and self-justifying about it, and then he would’ve sent Jess packing because they “came from different worlds” or some equally inane bit of self-destructing crazoid guy-logic. From there he would’ve picked up with some comfortably broken girl, somebody with sharp edges he could cut himself against. Then he would’ve had a bad day, and then a worse day, and so on until they accumulated into a bad year, and then he would’ve woken up one morning to find himself wearing slip-on shoes in a mandatory group therapy session somewhere with security doors and visitor sign-in sheets.

And then?

Then he would’ve ended up in the exact same place he did:

Lying pale and half-stunned in the back of the Impala, Dean glancing at him every twenty seconds in the rear view mirror. Silently handing him french fries, one by one, as if he were a baby bird.

{on AO3}

[rockhoochie]

Long Overdue Love

I’ve been meaning to take some time to thank everyone for the likes, comments and reblogs on my fics. You have no idea how happy it makes my little fangirl’s heart! Now that I’ve (mostly) figured out how Tumblr works, I thought I’d thank each person who commented individually on each of my fics so far! This is long, so it’s all under the cut.

And here we go...

On “Wilderness”:

@theoriginalvicki commented: “God-damn awesome is right!”  Thanks so much! This being my first ever piece of writing I’ve shared, it means so much that you enjoyed it!

@cemmia commented: “So hot!”  For some reason, your URL isn’t working, but if you see this, thank you!!

@aubreyreadsstuff commented:  Fucking shit why is he so damn sexy as hell? You’ve got me all sorts of hot and frustrated. Damn it I need a Dean like that in my life.  I ask myself that on a near daily basis! And I’m thrilled to hear I got you all sorts of hot and frustrated - It means I did something right! Thank you!

@mspseudonymwho commented:🔥Sweet Jesus, this is so damn hot!Awesome writing. 😮  Thank you so very much for reading and for the compliment!

@mrswhozeewhatsis commented:  Got some hints of Dom!Dean in here! *fans self furiously*  Ahh, thanks Michelle! I just love me a bossy Dean!

On “No Apologies” (formerly titled: “He Brings Me Sugar)

@cherrycokegirls1 commented: Oh my goodness. This is so good and I can’t wait for more!  That really means a lot because, to be honest, I’m not satisfied with this one . I rushed myself -  It was the first time I put effort into building an OC, which I really enjoyed doing, and I think this has so much more potential. I had planned on abandoning this, but your comment caused me re-think that decision. I’m going to put this one on the shelf for now, and re-visit.  Some ideas have come to me, so someday it’ll get a complete overhaul and quite a few more chapters! Thank you for the comment and inspiring me!

On “Every Inch”

@growningupgeek commented: Hot, sexy, and a little sweet with a great ending.  Thank you! This was my first time writing Sam - it started out Dean, but the more I wrote, I realized it fit Sam better. This is actually one of my favorites! I can’t take full credit for the ending - a friend suggested the premise for a different fic but I just had to use it for this one. So very glad you enjoyed!

@butiaintgonnaloveem commented: Oh man. Not even my kind of kink but the build up is so good that I don’t care. And the ending?! No spoilers, but I just loved it.  To hear that this wasn’t something you’d normally be into but took a chance on and enjoyed it is a huge compliment to me! Thank you so very much! And I have to say, I love the ending too ;)

@mrswhozeewhatsis commented:  I really love the ending of this!! LOL!!  Again, thanks Michelle! I’m a little disappointed the ending wasn’t my own idea, but I think it worked well! A little post-coital humor is always fun!

@cherrycokegirls1 commented:  Holy wow! This was amazing! Such great writing! And the smut? Freaking hot!  Thank you, thank you so much for reading and the compliments and the comment! So glad you liked it!

@kathaswings commented:  Holy shit, yeah. What she said. I seriously suggest you go check Sarah out - this thing was amazing!   This was my first fic I posted on Tumblr, and my first Sam fic - as a die-hard Dean girl I was hesitant to keep going but so glad I did! So many thank you’s for reading and the recs!!

@atc74​ commented: You know how we (writers, people, humans) can be skeptical at new things? Well, here I was, clicking the link above and feeling somewhat skeptical; I will admit it. But as I continued reading, I was pleasantly surprised. I am not sure words will actually do this post justice. It is not often I come across a new face in the fanfic world, who admittedly says “Hi, I’m new here”, and then blows it out of the fucking water. This fic is well done; it is eloquent and hot as all get out. Go and give this a read; you will not be disappointed. I know Sam wasn’t! I hope we will see more from Sarah in the future!  I’ll always be so grateful for this comment and reblog Ang! I was admittedly terrified when I took a shot and sent this to you when you were looking for fic recs. I never imagined I’d get such a beautiful, encouraging response! Much love to you!

On “Soaked”

@mrswhozeewhatsis commented:  Whew!! (warning for NSFW gif under the cut)  Thank you for the comment and reblog! This is only my second porn drabble - I had a bit of writer’s block (and I think I was bored at work) and I realized, “hey! These are really fun to do!”  It gave me an idea, so I might be doing a lot more of these and turning it into something fun once a week!

@kathaswings commented:  Sarah 2 - Lina 1. I need some inspiration or I’m so gonna lose this panty ruining contest…  When I write now, I always ask myself ‘will this ruin more of Lina’s panties?’ Lol :)

On “Full of Grace”

@herbologystudent252 commented:  Damn…no, hott damn!!  To which I replied, “Thank you!” to which she replied  “no, thank *you* 😉” . Thank you!!

@kathaswings commented:  Sarah 3 - Lina 1  Oh, come now! (Saw it when I wrote it, leaving it because I can, lol!)

@wingedcatninja commented:  *screaming incoherently*  I’m squeeing audibly! Thank you!

@notnaturalanahi commented:  So fucking hot and sweet!  Exactly what I was going for, sweetie! Thank you!

@impaladreamers-mainfrigginblog commented:  This is incredible 😍😍  Thank you so very much for reading and the compliment!

@angelwriter3895 commented:  💙😶😍💓💗  I would respond with emojis depicting love and gratitude, but I’m on my tablet!

On “Hunt Hard, Play Harder” (Part 1)

@daughterofthebrowncoats commented: OK SO. First: Holy fucking shit, this is like, top 10 hottest things I’ve ever read, bar none.  Like, the name calling, the whole being a slut (for one person)?  A personal favorite and for anyone who get offended by it, I’ll remind you that many kinks are taboo for a reason. Second: It’s beautifully written, just full of language that makes me know and feel exactly what’s going on.  I feel that lazy evening heat when she’s sitting on the car.  I feel the rumble of Baby under me as I half doze off.  I know exactly how it felt to have Dean between my legs, driving me up one side of wild and down the other because you were able to put it into words and that’s a skill that just has to be innate.  Third: DID I MENTION HOW FUCKING HOT THIS IS.  IF NOT, I NEED TO. IT’S IMPORTANT.Just, dannnnnnnnnnng, this is so freaking good!!!!  You, my friend, are so talented and I love it and you!!! @atari-writes @badsongwinchester you just want some rough Dom!Dean? Cause @rockhoochie is passing out the good stuff!  You have no idea how much this beautiful comment means to me. I’m thrilled, humbled, and have all sorts of feels from this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this comment. “Thank you” doesn’t express my gratitude enough!  I want to say more but I’m speechless!

On “Fair Play” (Hunt Hard, Play Harder Part 2)

@squirrel-moose-winchester commented:  Sweet chuck, the next part is going to delicious!!  Mmm...I’m hoping it will be ;) Thank you!

@blackcherrywhiskey commented:  Oh hot dayum!  Thank you my dear, so very glad you enjoyed!

@thinkwritexpress-official commented: oooooh shit yes please!!!! The ending has me screaming, I can’t wait for the next part!!  Thank you so much - I can’t wait for the next part myself!

@kathaswings commented: I have complaints. 1) My panties are ruined. (Cause that was freaking hot.) Where can I send the bill? 2) My brain is useless and buzzing. (Cause it’s on overdrive, caught up in all kinds of images about Dean naked and tied up.) 3) I already hate you for planning more of this. (Cause I smell a threesome on the way, and that will surely kill me. There’s only so much perfect smut a girl can take.)  Oh my dear Lina, you know I regret nothing ;) You will never know how happy this comment made me - it still makes me smile!

@there-must-be-a-lock commented:  This is hot as hell!  Thank you so much!! I can’t wait to turn up the heat!

@mrswhozeewhatsis commented:  This is freaking awesome (like “I’ll be in my bunk” awesome) and I absolutely LOVE where I think this is going!!!!!  My goodness - if I’m ruining panties and sending people to their bunks I must be doing something right! Thank you so much Michelle! I think you’ll love where this is going as much as I do!

@hennessy0274-blog commented:  Hot damn!  Thank you, so glad you enjoyed it!

@atc74 commented:  Awww snap Sammy!! Sarah, this was fucking AMAZING! I love it when Dean slips into sub mode! Can’t wait for the next part!!  I LOVED having Sam say that!! And as much as I love bossy dom!Dean - this was fun to write. I’m excited to finally get to the next part soon! Thank you so much Ang, I really appreciate the love!

And so, to everyone who has liked, reblogged, commented, or read any of my scribbles, thank you. As for what’s next, stay tuned for:

-a Dean oneshot I forgot I wrote a few weeks ago (maybe posting tonight?)

-a request from @loreleilara for Sam smut which is almost done, and turned out to be pretty long, but hopefully totally worth it! 

- Hunt Hard, Play Harder Part 3

Love to all and...

[deanlightful]

the horrors of pre-calc

Dean needs someone to tutor him in pre-calc, bad, but the only person available is Castiel Collins, and Castiel is... intimidating.

Read on AO3

“Fuck fuck fuck! ” Dean crumples his recent pre-calc test in his hand and throws it in the trash.

“That bad?” Charlie wonders, eyeing her own with distaste.

“I fucking failed .” Dean grumbles, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of his voice, “Again.”

“Yeah, I didn’t do too hot either. This class is tanking my GPA.”

“This class is bullshit.”

“I mean, it would help if we didn’t suck at math.”

Dean throws up his hands, “I’m gay, what am I supposed to do?”

“That has literally nothing to do with math.” Charlie snorts.

“Yeah, well, whatever. I’m still mad about it.”

Charlie leans against the row of lockers behind her and eyes him critically. “What you need is a tutor.”

“ You need a tutor!”

“Well, yeah,” She agrees, “That’s why I signed up for tutoring yesterday.”

“What the- without me? ”

“You were in the bathroom.”

“Ugh,” Dean slumps against the locker next to her, and is promptly shooed out of the way by the locker’s owner, “Who’d you get?”

“Jo Harvelle.”

“Is Jo good at math?”

Charlie shrugs, “Good enough to be a tutor, apparently.”

“Fuck me.” Dean sighs.

“No thanks.” Says Charlie.

Dean manages to catch Benny Lafitte at lunch, “Hey, are you still doing math tutoring?”

Benny gives him a slow up and down that makes him shift nervously. “All booked up, unfortunately. But maybe I can squeeze you in, if you… really want it.”

“Hah,” Dean swallows nervously, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “No, uh, I mean- not that bad.”

Benny shrugs, “That’s cool. I don’t really have the time anyway, honestly. But, um, call me if you ever want to hang out, yeah?”

“Yeah- I um- okay.” Dean stammers, blushing furiously and backing away. It’s probably his own fault that Benny is so forward, after all Dean did give him a handy last year to repay him for help with algebra. But he’s trying not to say thanks with handjobs anymore.

“No way.” Dean protests, after conferring with Jo about his tutoring options, “I can’t.”

“He’s your only option,” Jo tells him, “And he’s good.”

“Then why isn’t he all booked up like everybody else?”

“Um…” Jo purses her lips, “He’s… intimidating.”

“Yeah, I know he’s intimidating, Jo, I’ve seen the guy.”

“But you need help with pre-calc, like, bad .”

“I’m aware!”

“So… get him to tutor you.”

“Um. That would mean talking to him, and that’s just not in my agenda, sorry.”

“Hey, you came to me for help. I’m helping you.”

Dean absolutely does not pout, but leans heavily against the library desk that Jo is parked at. “Can’t you ask him for me?”

“No.”

“But he scares me.”

“How much do you want to pass math?”

“Ugh, I don’t know .”

Jo raises an eyebrow, “So you’re willing to give Benny Lafitte a rub-off, but you can’t even talk to Castiel Collins?”

“Wha- how- how did you know about-”

“It’s not a secret, Dean.”

“ Oh my god.”

“Look, i’m just saying, you obviously wanted to pass math pretty bad last year. Where’s that drive now?”

Dean rubs frustratedly at his eyes, “Collins just makes me really nervous.”

“Yeah, he makes everybody nervous. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you gave him a handy.”

“God, I give one guy a handjob and I never hear the end of it!”

“Hmm, I heard it was more than one guy.”

“Shut up, Jo!” Dean shrieks.

Dean takes a deep breath, and then another. He’s been working up the nerve to talk to Castiel Collins for a week now, and only another, even more dismal test score has pushed him to finally do it. He catches Castiel after school, as the man strides through the parking lot on his long, long legs.

“Hey, Castiel!” He calls out.

Castiel stops and turns in one smooth motion, his tie flapping in the breeze like a streamer. The crisp lines of his button-down and khakis somehow manage to make him look very adult instead of.. lame. He’s wearing sturdy boots, a large black watch, and a disinterested facial expression.

“Yes?”

Dean scrambles to stop before running into Castiel, and only just succeeds.

“Uh, hi.” He struggles to catch his breath, “Um. Yeah. Okay, so. I was- uh, wondering if you could…” He trails off in the face of Castiel’s impassive gaze. His nerves are going wild, heart pounding, he can’t catch his breath.

“Are you�� alright?” Castiel asks, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed with concern.

His gaze is clear and piercing.

“Uh…” Says Dean, mortification growing as he feels his hands begin to shake. “I’m sorry. I- don’t know- I don’t what’s wrong.”

“You’re hyperventilating.” Castiel says, his large hands guiding Dean to sit on the hood of a nearby car, “I need you to pace your breathing.”

His hand is on Dean’s chest, long fingers splayed out over Dean’s collarbone. “Breathe in, breathe out. There we go, keep that up. There we go.”

“Thanks.” Dean sighs as his breathing finally returns to normal. He’s humiliated and blushing furiously, but at least he has his breath.

“Are you alright, now?”

“I think so.”

“What did you need to ask me?”

“Oh,” Dean sighs, suddenly exhausted, “I, um. I was going to see if you would tutor me in pre-calc.”

Castiel looks at him seriously for a moment, “What parts are you having trouble with?”

“ All of it.”

“Alright.” Says Castiel, “I’ll tutor you, Dean.”

“You know my name?”

Castiel gives him a look, half amused, half confused, “We have four classes together, Dean.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“When would you like to start?”

“As soon as possible? I, uh, I need a lot of help.”

Dean’s house is quiet. He can hear the whir of the washing machine, the ticking of the clock over the mantel, and his own heartbeat. Castiel is considering the kitchen with the same sort of expression that one might wear when viewing a piece of art. He looks at the wallpaper, at the stove and the pictures on the refrigerator. He nods thoughtfully.

“I like your house.” He says.

Having Castiel in his house is terrifying, to say the least. He’s so put together, so smart, so adult , and here he is standing in Dean’s mediocre kitchen, looking at age-old macaroni art from when Dean was four.

“So,” Dean slumps down at the kitchen table, “Ready to find out how dumb I am?”

After a moment, Castiel sits down beside him, looking serious as always, “People learn differently, Dean, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

“I guess. But i’ve had trouble with math my whole life. This is like, a last ditch effort. I just… want to warn you.”

Castiel just looks at him, which he’s done quite a bit so far. He taps the eraser of his pencil on the table, “So you have one bad subject, and you think that makes you stupid?”

“Look, I’m not really looking for a half-hearted  pep talk, okay? I just need enough help to get a passing grade.”

To his great surprise, Castiel reaches out and grasps his wrist. “I’m serious, Dean. You’re not stupid just because you’re not great at every subject. Math isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay.”

“Are you giving up before we’ve even started?”

“What? No, no. I believe you’re completely capable of mastering pre-calculus. I just want you to know that not liking math doesn’t make you stupid.”

Dean says nothing, a little stunned and not sure if he should be embarrassed or not. The following silence is long, and more than a little awkward.

After a while, Castiel clears his throat. “Let's get started.”

Math sucks. It sucks a lot. But having Castiel as a tutor makes it suck a little less.

Yes, Dean is a nervous mess. Yes, Castiel gets to see Dean struggle over math. On the upside though, Castiel smells amazing. His cologne is something like pine and peppermint, and every time Castiel turns to talk to him, Dean gets a whiff of Juicy Fruit gum.

Castiel is by far the most patient tutor Dean has ever had, he makes it easy to say when he doesn’t understand a concept, when he needs further clarification. His voice is gentle, which surprises Dean because he’s always thought of Castiel as such a stern, no-nonsense guy. Turns out, Castiel isn’t really anything like Dean thought he was. He’d had this picture of Castiel in his mind, something like a larger-than-life robot, attractive but cold. Dean has never been more wrong about someone.

“I don’t get it.” Dean sighs, frustrated, “I’m sorry, Cas. I just- I just don’t get it.”

“That’s okay.” Castiel assures him, “Would you like me to go over it again?”

“Can we stop for now? I think my brain is turning to mush.”

Castiel smiles, showing off rows of straight white teeth, dimples in his cheeks. “Sure.”

“I’m starving anyway, you want something to eat?”

“I could eat.” Castiel admits, “You want Pizza Shack?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t have any money. Or a car. I was just gonna… make spaghetti or something.”

“I’ll drive,” Says Castiel, “And I’ll pay.”

“Oh. Um. I mean, I guess.”

Dean has never seen Castiel as relaxed as he is at the Pizza Shack. He’s so… smiley. He’s laughing .

“Hey, um. This is probably going to sound weird, but i’ve never seen you smile before.”

Castiel doesn’t look offended, in fact, he nods. “I tend to be very serious at school. And I… have a hard time talking to people.”

“You seem fine talking to me.” Dean points out.

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks. So are you. You’re… really different than I thought you were.”

Castiel takes a big bite out of his slice of pizza and shrugs. “I never really feel like I can be myself at school.”

“You always dress like you’re going to a meeting.”

Castiel shrugs again. “Maybe I am.”

Dean snorts, “Yeah, alright.”

“I like to dress nice sometimes. Sometimes I don’t.”

This piques Dean’s interest. “When do you not?”

“When I’m at home. Usually when I go out.”

“What do you like to do when you’re not tutoring dummies?”

“You’ve got to stop calling yourself dumb, Dean.”

Dean ignores him, “When you’re not tutoring.”

Castiel looks at him for a moment, then drops it. “I go to a lot of shows, local bands and stuff, you know?”

For some reason, this revelation surprises Dean more than anything else. “ Really ?”

“Is it really so hard to believe that i’m not serious all the time?” Castiel asks.

“You just keep surprising me.”

“I’m going to a show this weekend. You want to come?”

Dean blinks. “Can I just do that? Don’t I need like, a ticket or something?”

“Ah, no. They’re not really those kinds of shows.”

Dean hesitates. He’s not really the kind of guy who goes to shows. He’s the kind of guy who stays home and has sleepovers with Charlie where they watch old sci-fi movies and drink too much Mountain Dew. God, Castiel is so much cooler than him.

“Okay.” His mouth says, way before his brain has had time to process everything, “Yeah I’ll- I’ll go to a show with you.”

Castiel grins. “Cool.”

When Castiel comes to pick Dean up on Friday night, his mother opens the door.

“Oh, hello dear!” Mary Winchester says gleefully, “You must be Dean’s friend. Come on in! Come on!”

Castiel grins and follows her into the house. Dean is coming down the stairs and almost trips over his own feet when he sees Castiel in casual clothes. He’s never seen the guy in anything besides button-downs and khakis, so seeing him in a band t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans is startling. He looks really really good.

“Hey, Cas! Hi. Uh. You ready?”

“I’m ready.” Castiel says, “It was good meeting you, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Good to meet you too, dear. You boys be safe tonight, okay?”

“Do you want Dean back by a certain time?” Castiel asks, politely.

Mary looks between them fondly. “Just have fun and be safe, okay? And if you come in late, try not to wake your brother.”

“What, really?” Dean asks, flabbergasted. He’s never gone out to something like this before, so he’s never had to ask his mother about curfew, but this is more lenience than he’d expected.

“Yep.” Mary leans forward and kisses him on the cheek, “Now get out of here before I get emotional about you growing up.”

“Let's go!” Says Dean.

The venue is an abandoned warehouse, which makes Dean a little nervous, but Castiel’s hand is on the small of his back. Castiel gets their cover charge and they both gets red stamps on the back of their hands, and the night begins.

The warehouse is crowded, and loud, but everyone is jumping and dancing and the music is good . Dean can’t stop smiling, and Castiel is pressed close to him by the throngs of other people. His hands on Dean’s hips are probably unnecessary, but Dean isn’t complaining. At one point, Castiel wants to get closer to the stage, so he takes Dean by the hand and tugs him along, and then he just doesn’t let go.

By the end of the night, Dean feels… well, it’s hard to tell exactly how he feels. He feels changed, he feels like he might of dreamed the whole thing.

“That was amazing !” Dean gushes on the way back to Castiel’s car, “I can’t believe i’ve never done that before, it was so cool!”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Says Castiel, who has been smiling all night.

“God, you’re so cool!”

Castiel laughs, “So are you, Dean.”

Their hands brush, and Dean, drunk on excitement, grabs Castiel’s without a second thought. Their hands part when they reach the car, but Dean can still feel the ghost of Castiel’s fingers in his. They roll down the windows and Castiel turns up the music, and they sing loudly and badly into the night. The cold wind rolling into the car makes Dean feel wild, like he could do absolutely anything.

There’s a moment, when they reach Dean’s house, right before he gets out of the car, when he’s sure that Castiel is going to kiss him. There’s electricity in the air, Castiel leans forward, but it’s only to thumb an eyelash off of Dean’s cheek, although he does look particularly reverent about it. But no, no kiss comes that night, to Dean’s disappointment. He can’t really be too disappointed though, because the night has been… such an experience.

Going to school on Monday is a little odd, because now he has Castiel’s phone number, and the memory of holding his hand and dancing with him in a crowded warehouse. Now he knows that the button-downs and ties are easily traded for band tees, and he’s not entirely sure what to do with this information.

Their tutoring continues, to Dean’s combined delight and despair. He loves the touch of their knees beneath the table, and the smell of cologne as Castiel leans close to explain a problem, but the math still gives him fits. Nevertheless, the grade on his next test is actually passing.

“I passed!” Dean shouts at Charlie, by her locker, who screams her approval.

“I passed!” He shouts at Kevin, in the library, who looks to be having a heart attack.

“I passed !” He shouts at Castiel, out in the parking lot, who beams and opens his arms to embrace Dean in an unexpected but entirely welcome hug.

“You passed!”

“ I passed !”

“I knew you could.”

“ I didn’t. I thought i’d be stuck in high school forever! Suck it, math!”

“We have to celebrate!” Castiel announces.

“We do?”

“We do!”

“Okay! What do you want to do?”

Castiel laughs, “It’s your celebration.”

“And I want you to do all the work.”

“Right, right. Because teaching you wasn’t enough work. I’m just kidding!” He insists when Dean frowns, “I actually already have something planned.”

“No you do not!” Dean laughs.

“‘Course I do.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.” Castiel teases, eyes alight with mirth.

“Fuck you.” Says Dean.

“You’ll like it. This weekend, pack a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes. What do you say?” Castiel’s tone is confident, but his hands are in his pockets and his expression is one that almost seems to expect rejection.

Dean gasps, “Are we having a sleepover?”

If Castiel’s grin wasn’t answer enough, his next words are a confession, “It’s not too lame, is it? It’s totally middle school, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s good!” Dean assures him, “I love it! We’ll have a sleepover.”

“Alright, well. It’s gonna be good. So… get ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

Dean is not ready. In no way is he ready to spend the night with his math tutor, who he finds absolutely unbearably attractive, and on whom he has a crush that could easily be described as mammoth . On top of this, he knows nothing about the rest of Castiel’s plans. Will there be other people there? Is it just going to be the two of them? What will they be doing?

These questions plague him through the rest of the week, while he’s packing and telling his mother about his plans. Mary is ecstatic that Dean is going out more and making friends, and lets him go without more than a kiss on the cheek and a promise to behave.

Castiel picks Dean up in the afternoon, and Dean realizes within minutes that they’re not headed toward Castiel’s house.

“Uh…” Says Dean, “Where’s this sleepover?”

“I think maybe you need tutoring in English too,” Castiel says with feigned thoughtfulness, “because you don’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘surprise’.”

“Shut up.” Dean slaps half-heartedly at Castiel’s leg, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re not taking me into the woods to murder me.”

“You think I’d kill you after all the hard work I put into helping you with pre-calc?”

“You think you’re so funny , don’t you?”

“You think i’m funny.”

Dean glares. “I admit nothing.”

They drive out of the city, and Dean tries again, with no avail, to get Castiel to tell him where they’re going. Finally, after about forty-five minutes of driving through the middle of nowhere, they turn down a road that winds through the woods. Another ten minutes, another turn, and finally they’re pulling into a clearing with a small cabin in the middle of it.

Dean squints suspiciously, “Did you just drive us into a horror movie?”

Castiel laughs and opens the passenger side door, unconcerned. “My older brothers built this. It’s just a getaway spot, anyone in the family can use it. I thought we could watch scary movies, I’ll make a pizza, we can get drunk.”

Dean grins and climbs out of the car, finally convinced, “You got booze?”

“Yep.” Castiel confirms, hauling a crate full of various alcohol out of his trunk, “Courtesy of my brother Gabriel.”

The inside of the cabin in much nicer than Dean thought it would be. He’d been expecting the bare minimum, and is happily surprised. The cabin has power, a big kitchen with new appliances, a flat screen television and an enormous leather couch.

"Alright, lets get started on this pizza."

"Wait." Dean says, "You mean make make pizza?"

“Yeah.”

"Like, from scratch?"

"Totally. With whatever you want on there."

“Alright,” Dean says, falling backward onto the couch, “Lets see it.”

“Do you want to help?” Castiel asks fondly.

“I guess .” Says Dean.

And so, Castiel begins his preparation of a from scratch pizza, and Dean stands nearby being generally unhelpful. It takes less time than Dean thought it would, and soon the pizza is in the oven and Castiel is lugging his crate of booze into the living room.

“That's a lot.” Dean asks, unable to keep the awe out of his voice.

Castiel huffs, the crate thunks down next to the coffee table, “Gabriel is a big advocate of underage drinking.”

Dean leans over to peer into the depths, “So what have we got.”

“Whatever you like. We’ve got beer, wine, whisky, vodka. I, personally, am going to try out this Blue Raspberry vodka.”

“Can I get some of that?”

“Absolutely.”

They’re trashed. Way past tipsy, into spilling all your secrets and trying to make out with a desk lamp territory.

They’re in a heap on the couch, limbs tangled until neither can tell what belongs to whom. The remnants of the greedily devoured pizza lays scattered on the coffee table, along with the now half-empty bottle of Blue Raspberry vodka which was, in Dean’s opinion, a truly magnificent idea. The big flatscreen tv blasts Kurt Russell in all his eighties glory, fighting a shapeshifting alien in antarctica.

“God, I love this movie.” Dean says, head lolling lazily onto Castiel’s lap, “I love Kurt Russell.”

Castiel’s hand is carding gently through Dean’s hair, “Do you? I didn’t know that.”

“I had my first sex dream about him.”

Castiel tips back his head and laughs, a big, happy sound. “Mine was Patrick Dempsey.”

“Dempsey?”

“That hair . God, I thought he was so dreamy.”

Dean turns over so that he can look up at Castiel, who has a sort of dazed look on his face. “Do you like my hair?”

Castiel grins loosely and brushes a bit of hair back from Dean’s forehead, “Yeah, I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” Dean reaches up to run his finger along the bridge of Castiel’s nose.

Castiel is leaning closer now, breath sweet and tangy with fruity alcohol, the promise of a kiss lingering on his lips.

“Hell.” He mutters, and sits back up.

“What?” Dean asks, feeling more than a little put out, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, nothing.”

“Cas, come on .”

Castiel leans his head back against the couch and huffs out a breath. He swallows, and again. “I, uh.” He says, “I was… kind of hoping that getting drunk would give me the courage to kiss you. But you’re also drunk, and I realize now that it makes me kind of a jerk.”

“Huh?” Dean frowns. He’d heard the word kiss and lost the train of the conversation.

“Nothing.” Castiel shakes his head, “I’ll fall asleep soon anyway.”

Dean wakes covered in sweat, with cotton mouth and a pounding headache. He rolls his head and meets with cloth and flesh, but his eyes refuse to open.

“Cas?” He croaks.

“Hmm?” Grumbles the cloth under his face.

“Are we dead?”

“Uh... I think so.”

“I have to pee.” The fabric of Castiel’s shirt gets stuck on Dean’s tongue, and he shakes his head to get loose.

“Quit licking me.”

“‘M not licking you.” Says Dean.

Castiel sighs, “If you get off of me, i’ll make you breakfast.”

“But i’m dead.”

“I’ll make you pancakes.”

Dean groans unhappily, but rolls off of Castiel, and the couch. From the floor, he groans again. He hears Castiel get up and walk unsteadily to the kitchen, but, facedown on the floor, he falls quickly back asleep.

“Dean, wake up.” Castiel’s voice comes from above him, “I made pancakes.”

This time, waking up is a little easier, despite the fact that he’s drooled all over the carpet. The sweet smell of breakfast soothes some of the fire in his skull. Dean gets to his feet slowly, through a truly impressive series of contortions and poses, more fit for an acrobat than a teenage boy, and when he’s finally up he views the entire world through a haze of distaste.

“I’m still dead.” He guesses.

“Come on.” Castiel grabs him by the arm and drags him into the kitchen, where pancakes and orange juice wait on the little kitchen table.

Dean falls upon them like he’s starving, which he is.

“Jesus christ,” He says, mouth full, “this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Castiel sits across from him, eating his own pancakes at much more sedate pace, and watching Dean fondly.

After breakfast, they make their way to the front porch. There’s a swing and a light breeze, and birds singing cheerfully nearby. They sit together on the swing and Castiel leans back and looks at Dean.

“What?” Dean wonders, secretly very pleased to be the object of such single-minded attention.

“Dean, uh.” Castiel wets his lips and looks away, “I, uh, i’ve really liked hanging out with you. And um, getting to know you. And I just- I really like you, you know?”

Dean laughs, “Yeah, I like you too, man.” He says. He has an inkling where this is going, but he tries not to hope prematurely in case he’s wrong. He fails miserably.

“You’ve… kinda become my best friend. And I also, um,” Castiel wets his lips again, “really want to kiss you.” He takes a deep breath and talks very quickly now, “And if that’s a problem I mean whatever I get it, I’ll shut up about it and we’ll never talk about it again I swear to god but I- I just wanted you to know. I guess.”

“Okay.” Says Dean, already leaning forward eagerly.

���Huh?”

“I like you, too. You should, uh, kiss me. If you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel smiles, and keeps smiling as he leans forward and meets Dean’s lips with his own. Dean smiles back, and breathes a long sigh of relief.

“This doesn’t mean you can stop teaching me math, though.” He says, pulling back for a moment.

“Obviously.” Castiel agrees.

Dean remembers for a moment his trepidation at first asking Castiel to help him with pre-calc, and wishes he could have known then what was in store. He would have worn a cooler shirt.

[scrollingkingfisher]

Five Times Sam Gave Gabriel the Kiss of Death (and One Time he Didn’t)

 Everybody Sam kisses dies, right? That's his curse. So he figures that if it works on his lovers, it should damn well work on his enemies, too.

Only this is Sam Winchester's life, and nothing is ever easy like that.

Pairings;  Sam Winchester/Gabriel

Rating;  T

AO3

I DID THE THING GUYS I DID THE THING!

Tagging; @keepingcalmisoverratedgoddamnit, @hectatess, @archangelgabriellives, @shippers-roost, @saragirlhere, @nathyfaith, @youarentreadingthis, @unleashthemidnight, @theriverscribe

1. Mystery spot

It starts in a moment of pure, unadulterated insanity.

Insanity isn’t so unusual for Sam these days; he was trapped in Mystery Spot for around a year, and now he’s spent almost six months without Dean.

During the dark moments, when he gets so lonely that he can barely breathe, he sometimes recalls those few, sweet memories of people who he had cared about. Not Dean, because the loss is still too raw for that. But sometimes his thoughts drift to Jessica, or Sarah.

After that, of course, when the warm glow of the memories has worn off, comes the bitter realisation that everyone he has ever kissed seems to die. Maybe he’s cursed, he wonders, staring up at the mouldering roof of his latest squat. Maybe he will never kiss anyone ever again, for fear of them turning monstrous or dropping dead. Probably both.

A wild thought enters his brain; maybe he is cursed. Maybe he should use that, the next time he comes across something that deserves it.

And seeing the trickster finally in front of him during their final confrontation, the cruel smile on his face as he lords it over Sam about how he should know better, about how he ‘needs to let go of his brother’, well. The trickster deserves a little poetic justice. This would be just his kind of irony.

So Sam lunges forwards. He has half a second to relish the wide golden-eyed surprise on the trickster’s face, and then he’s grappling with him. Sam pours his everything into the kiss, all the emotions that have been brewing up behind his sternum for years, all the hatred and the despair and the seething, boiling anger. It’s a not a nice kiss, more like an attack, all dominating teeth and tongue. The trickster is stock still under him, mouth open and slack until Sam bites his lip viciously. Then the trickster’s moving, pushing back against him, giving as good as he gets until Sam has to yank away to breathe.

He pulls back and staggers back a step, panting. He can taste iron on his tongue, whether it’s his own blood or the tricksters, he can’t tell.

The trickster stares at him. He stares back. The room is filled with the sort of awkward shellshocked silence that makes Sam realise that he’s really, truly caught the trickster unawares. He feels a little stupid, now that sanity’s caught up with him. What was he trying to do, kiss him to death? But he glowers at the trickster anyway, defiant.

Sam expects the trickster to say something, to dismiss the kiss or mock him or kill him where he stands. But instead the trickster just stalls there, expressions flickering across his face faster than Sam can catch them. Then, without saying a word, the trickster raises a hand and snaps.

It takes Sam a while to adjust to Dean being alive again, but he finds himself thinking about the trickster occasionally in the next few months. The Kiss of Death hasn’t worked, as far as he knows. But for now he has Dean back, so for the longest time, Sam does his best to forget all about it.

2. Changing Channels

They had known what they were letting themselves in for the moment that they had stepped into the warehouse.

This time, he didn’t really want the trickster to die, per say. He’s angry, of course he is. He hasn’t forgotten the desperation of those six months. But this time, he wasn’t going to be manipulated. He wasn’t going to let the trickster push him around in his little ‘games’.

So when he finally bursts through the door onto the set of the sitcom, Sam sees a potential opportunity. He waits while he duct tapes Cas’ mouth shut, and while Dean gets more and more angry. Then finally, he starts preaching to them about ‘playing their roles,’ and Sam has had enough. Anything to shut him up.

With one quick step, Sam corners the trickster against the hideous wallpaper and drags him in by the lapels. The trickster is a little more prepared this time; after the first second, he’s kissing back, his tongue slipping into Sam’s mouth, taking over the kiss with experienced precision. Damn, he’s good.

It’s infuriating.

Sam dives back in, using every trick in the book. He licks into his mouth, their teeth clacking together. Then strong fingers grip his arms, supernatural strength flipping them around until Sam is the one pressed back against the wall, the trickster practically climbing him to get closer. Sam can’t help a little startled groan at the change in position, heat tingling through him as he pushes back against the restraining hands.

They break apart, panting for breath. The trickster’s hair has come down from its usual stupid combed back look and is flopping over his face in disarray, the front of his jacket all rucked up and lopsided. That, combined with the satisfyingly stunned look on his face, make him look utterly flustered and debauched. Good. Sam lets himself smirk a little.

The trickster narrows his eyes at him before disappearing in a crackle of static. The game is on.

That should do it! Sam thinks in triumph for a second before turning around.

He’d completely forgotten that he had an audience. Dean is staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open. Cas just frowns at him over the tape, confused.

“Sam… did you just… what the…?” Dean is spluttering, appalled, absolutely lost for words, and if Sam wasn’t slowly turning red from mortification, it would have been hilarious.

Luckily the trickster saves Sam from any further humiliation by choosing that moment to throw them headlong into a procedural cop drama. Sam’s still dreading getting out of here. Dean’s going to tease him for years.

If they live that long.

3. The Revelation

So. He isn’t a trickster. He’s an angel.

And not just any angel, either, the freaking archangel Gabriel on top of that.

Sam doesn’t really know how to deal with that. He had kissed an archangel. An archangel who stares out of that circle of holy fire at him with such a familiar level of anger and frustration reflected in his eyes that it’s hard not to empathise. Sam flicks on the sprinklers once he’s explained himself, and he’s vanished before Sam even turns around.

Gabriel isn’t gone, though. He keeps appearing after that, popping into Sam’s room whenever he freaking fancies it, apparently just for the pleasure of riling him up. Sam knows what he’s really doing, though. The archangel shows up, makes a few inflammatory comments about them having to end the world, then waits around looking hopeful, like a puppy that’s pulled off a new trick and now expects a treat.

And Sam can’t help it. He gives in. Because Gabriel is frustrating, and annoying, and also (though it takes it a while to admit it to himself), because Gabriel is an excellent kisser.

And somehow, the kissing gets less angry and turns into making out. And even more making out. Which morphs into a spectacular round of angry sex on the day of a particularly bad hunt. Which leads to a second round of slow, gentle sex later that evening. And then he’s confessing to Gabriel about how he had to kill all those poor people the werewolves turned, and he falls asleep with Gabriel’s hand gentle in his hair and his voice in his ear, telling him a story about Thor and ancient asgard.

After that it just… keeps happening. Dean complains loudly, mostly because he refuses to knock on the freaking door and catches an eyeful or two, but Sam has never cared less. Being with Gabriel is a whirlwind of kissing, and comfort, and a few occasions of Gabriel getting pissed at the demons who keep catching them (and Sam’s never going to admit how hot he finds it when Gabriel comes storming in, all hard gold burning eyes and wings out, and obliterates a warehouse with a thought. Never.)

There’s only one dark spot on his newfound happiness. It occurs to him while he’s lying in bed, listening as Gabriel whistles while he cooks them breakfast in the tiny motel kitchenette. He smiles, a warm feeling glowing in his chest. He might actually… he might…

Sam might actually love Gabriel.

He has a minute of golden happiness before the realisation sinks in and his eyes widen in horror.

Oh, god.

Oh, god, this isn’t good.

Because he remembers how all this started. He might as well have pushed Gabriel in front of a firing squad. Nobody who kisses him lives, loving him is a death sentence. Sam is poison, he knows that.

He had kissed Gabriel at first, and nothing had happened, but what about now? Now that his feelings are genuine? Maybe the curse only works if he actually feels it, because fate is a cruel bitch and Sam’s life is never kind.

Gabriel pops his head around the corner and grins at him, wearing nothing except a kiss the cook apron, and Sam fakes a smile back. He can’t leave Gabriel. He’s in too deep. But now there’s a terrifying doubt at the back of his mind that even this small piece of happiness that he’s carved out of the chaos of his life can never last.

4. Hammer of the Gods

“Are you alright?” Dean asks from where they’re huddled behind the table, and Sam has to resist the impulse to laugh hysterically. He’s just seen his lover get stabbed in the chest with his own blade. Lucifer, the devil who has been trying to seduce him into letting him wear Sam’s skin, is battling the goddess of death just across the room from them. Of course he’s not fucking alright. But before Dean can say this, someone answers for him.

“Not really.”

He whirls, and there’s Gabriel. He looks older, even though it’s only been a few short minutes since he’d seen him last, and a thousand times more tired.

Gabriel’s eyes linger on his for a second, but there’s no time. Gabriel smacks something into Dean’s chest. “Guard this with your life.”

He’s about to go. Without thinking, Sam lunges forwards, pulls him back down where they’re crouched behind the table with a hand twisted into the front of his jacket, and kisses him. It’s hard, and desperate; Sam tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss, all the love and regrets and fear and desperate, hopeless hope that they’ll make it out of this alive.

Gabriel’s hands are gentle on his shoulders, pushing him back.

“Please,” Sam begs, and his voice cracks down the middle because this is it, this is what he has been terrified of ever since it became real, they can’t fight Lucifer and he knows with terrifying certainty that Gabriel is going to be killed and it’s all his fault-

Gabriel smiles at him, small and sad, and his hands slide up to gently cup Sam’s face.

Then a fireball hits the other side of the table and Gabriel’s pulling away, and all that’s left is running.

5. After

It’s the next night before Sam can bring himself to go back to the Elysian Fields hotel. They’d watched what was basically Gabriel’s suicide note that morning, and Sam had spent the rest of the day in a sort of numb haze. Dean had spent the day in awkward silence, and had nodded in some relief when Sam told him that he was going out. He hadn’t asked where he was going.

It’s strange, Sam thinks as he pulled up, that he doesn’t feel worse. Maybe it’s like when you cut off an animal’s head and it keeps running for a few seconds. He just hasn’t realised that he’s dead yet.

Whatever magic had repaired the place had died with the gods. Odd details jump out at him as he walks through the ruins of the hotel; the weeds pushing up through the tarmac, the doors half rotted off their hinges, the lingering smell of damp rot.

He gets to the ballroom, and the breath dies in his lungs. He gets dizzy for a second, doesn’t remember crossing the room, but suddenly he’s on his knees by Gabriel. He’s so still, so pale, and oh god, there’s ash on the floor, there’s ash on his jeans and smeared greasy on his fingers where they’re shaking against Gabriel’s collar. Sam can’t look at his chest, can’t look at all the blood.

He kneels there, shaking, for what feels like forever. Long enough that the damp chill seeps through the knees of his jeans. Ever so gently, he leans over and presses his lips to Gabriel’s cold ones.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

He stands stiffly, then walks to the corner of the room and retches until there’s nothing left inside and he’s throwing up bile.

Then he goes back and gathers Gabriel’s body into his shaky arms and walks outside. He should get the spade from the trunk. He’s going to need to dig.

+1  Five Years Later

It’s been a very long time since Sam thought about Gabriel.  

It’s not that he regrets it. Not at all. He’s lost a great many people and parts of himself since then. He’s shelved those few, happy memories in with the ones he keeps of Jess. he can’t think about them all the time. But on the nights which are particularly dark, when he wakes from nightmares of torture and fire and Lucifer’s voice laughing, he pulls them out, holding onto them tight until the sun rises and he stops shivering.

He doesn’t tend to kiss people any more, though. Not even the very occasional one night stand. He and Amelia even had a strict no-kissing policy, because she knew that they were never going to last, and because he was frightened that as soon as he did, she would be gone.

It’s been a crazy few months. He’s neck deep in researching other ways to destroy Abaddon, now that he has persuaded Dean not to take the Mark of Cain, when Cas enters the library.

Sam smiles at him, pulling out the chair next to him so that Cas can sit. It’s been a trying time for all of them, and every time Sam sees their angel he looks more run down. Sometimes he comes into the library just to sit with Sam quietly, each of them comfortable and glad to relax in each other’s company for a few hours. An escape from a world that seems to turn upside down without fail every six months.

This time though Cas looks like he has something to say. He clears his throat awkwardly. Sam looks up from his book.

“Sam. I have reason to believe… that Gabriel is alive.”

The silence is turns wire-taught.

Sam laughs harshly. “No. he’s not.”

Cas hesitates, then reaches down to put his fingertips on the back of Sam’s hand. Sam pulls it away. “Sam. Please. I know that you… I know that something happened, between you and Gabriel. And I can see why you would be upset by me claiming that he has returned. But -”

“No.” Sam laughs again, a little strangled. “You don’t understand, Cas. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

Cas doesn’t question him, just sits down opposite him and looks at him very seriously. “Why do you think that, Sam?”

It’s so much worse than if he had argued, because Sam can feel the answer bubbling up at the back of his throat.

“Because… because everyone I’ve ever kissed… they all die. Every single one of them.”

It’s a long time before he looks up again, but when he does he sees Cas looking at him with so much sympathy he has to look away.

Cas doesn’t comment. Instead, he sits there while Sam explains about Jess and Sarah and Gabriel, hell, even Ruby. Then he holds out his hand.

“Come with me.”

Cas leads them all the way to a deserted warehouse, one of the many which had belonged to Metatron. It turns out to be not-so-deserted, and after they’ve fought their way through two angels and five layers of death traps, they come to a circle of burning holy fire and something chained in the middle of it, shivering.

Somehow, it’s still a shock to see Gabriel. He looks so small lying on the concrete floor. And when Sam picks him up, he’s so light. Like all the weighty presence that he had carried has evaporated. Sam can’t take his eyes off him, sits with him in the back seat while Dean drives them back, as though if he looks away Gabriel might sublime directly into vapour, as insubstantial as a ghost.

Gabriel doesn’t wake that evening, or the next morning, or the morning after that. He finally blinks his eyes open late on the afternoon of the third day, and immediately scrunches them closed again. He groans, voice thick with displeasure.

Then he turns and squints, and the groggy smile that spreads across his face feels like it lights Sam’s heart on fire.

“Sam? ‘S that you?” he asks, and Sam could kiss him, but he doesn’t. He sweeps him up in a bone-crushing hug instead, before Cas and Dean arrive.

Sam doesn’t kiss him straight away. Or for the next few days. He tells himself that it’s because he needs more time to adjust to the fact that Gabriel’s alive again, sitting up and wandering around the bunker and complaining about the food and his lack of powers.

But it’s not about that. Not really.

Sam’s terrified.

What if it happens again? What if he gets Gabriel back just to lose him now? Sam’s been through a lot, but he thinks that might just be the thing that finally breaks him. So no matter how much it makes his heart ache, he avoids Gabriel. Because Gabriel being alive is worth more than a kiss will ever be.

It takes Gabriel a full week to corner him about it, mostly because Sam is a lot faster than Gabriel when he hasn’t got his powers. Finally, he manages to get him alone in the library, backed up against one of the bookshelves. He tries to kiss Sam, and when Sam flinches back, he looks so hurt that Sam’s heart feels as though it’s being wrung through his ribs.

“Why?” Gabriel asks.

Sam tries to hold it back, but it all comes spilling out in one big shameful rush, the full explanation of the curse and his death and why Sam had kissed him in the first place.

Gabriel just stares at him for a minute, mouth slightly open in surprise. Then he leans forwards, and he might have no grace at the moment but Sam could swear his eyes are glowing. “Sam. Listen to me. You’re not cursed. I didn’t die because I kissed you. I died because my asshat older brother stabbed me, and no, that wasn’t your fault either.” Sam doesn’t believe him, and Gabriel must know that because he sighs, the creases around his eyes softening. “Sam. I… I love you. I died, but I came back, right? I’ll always come back to you. It’ll take more than some puny curse to keep me away.”

And Sam can’t hold himself back anymore. He takes that beloved face in his hands and he kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him.

There are more days in front of them, a long rough road ahead. But Gabriel never breaks his promise; he always comes back.

[kittenwritesstuff]

Plus one

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: John Winchester x (hunter)reader Genres: angst, pregnancy, mild fluff Words: 2.159 Summary: John and reader have an affair, which they keep a secret from his sons. However, when reader finds out she’s pregnant, things get complicated - requested by Anonymous

Not even once in your entire life had you imagined that a white stick would be so terrifying. You fought ghosts, vampires, ghouls and demons and you were scared to death by looking at a white stick.

A white stick of Doom, as you began to think about it. You had no idea why did you buy it. Honestly, there was no chance that it would show you anything, but somewhere deep in your mind a voice (of reason, probably) whispered that you should check that possibility, too, just to be sure that it was impossible.

Yet, after three endlessly long minutes, when you looked at the stick, laying on the sink, it was clear. You were doomed. Totally, absolutely, unspeakably doomed.

After all, had you ever seen a pregnant hunter?

You bit your lip harshly, preventing yourself from screaming. For a moment, you wanted to grab your things, steal John’s car and ride as fast as you could, hell only knew where. How could you tell him? He’d leave you, that’s for sure. You could easily be his daughter and now, you were pregnant, and you he would probably say that you were stupid.

Because you were. You shouldn’t have allowed him to ever touch you. To have sex with you.

When you first met him, you had a feeling that he hated you for some reason. Maybe you reminded him of his dead wife and that made him mad? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to guess. You only had to work with him for a short while, then John would drive away to mind his business and you, Sam and Dean would continue saving the world.

Turned out, it was safer to split up in groups of two and try to catch the Yellow-eyed demon that way. So, after a long debate, you and John paired up and went to hunt the demon down. You were in touch with the brothers, calling as frequently as it was possible, and exchanging the information you’d gathered.

And somewhere between driving at nights and catching the demons, you and John ended up in one bed, devouring each other as if your life depended on it. A passion, that was building up for a long time, exploded and there was no stopping it.

Damn, you never expected John to return your attraction. You had always had a thing for older men, and being younger that Sam and Dean, you were practically the youngest everywhere brothers and you arrived.

But John didn’t mind. After the first time you and him slept together, he told you that you were a great hunter, with amazing intuition, and he didn’t give a damn about your age. However, his sons would, so you and John decided to never tell them.

And how the fuck could you keep it a secret now when the evidence was growing inside you?

“Balls…” you mumbled as you hid the pregnancy test into a box and threw it into your bag. You had already made five of them and they were all positive.

You started a cold water and lowered your face to flush it with it, hoping that it would calm your nerves a bit. You already felt panic, creeping from the depths of your mind, igniting a tight, ill feeling in your stomach.

You had to tell John. He had to know, regardless his reaction. He could just drop you in whatever city you would be passing by and tell the boys you freaked out. They wouldn’t believe him, but they would leave you alone. For some time, probably.

You wiped your face with a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, placing your bag by your bed. John was out to get some food and he would back soon, so you had to figure out how to tell him. “Hey, John, guess what? I’m pregnant” sounded too straightforward and revolving around the topic with a talk about bees and flowers was pointless. He had two sons, he knew how babies were made.

Cursing under your breath, you sat on the edge of the bed, a wild race of thoughts in your head. None of them was useful, none of them gave you an answer. You propped your elbows on your thighs and rested your head in your palms. Shit, and you thought you were careful, you thought that a pill would be enough.

The door was opened but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you would just straight up share the news, not even controlling your words. You couldn’t do it, you needed to say it cautiously.

Your leg started to bounce, an evidence of your nerves and John halted in his steps, putting the groceries on the small table. He gave you an once over, taking it your jumping legs, hidden face and visibly quickened breathing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, but you didn’t reply. You didn’t even make a sound and John began to be anxious. Even when you were stressed, you usually shared your thoughts with him, seeking an advice or a support. John wasn’t a man, who would  talk too long to motivate but he always managed to give you a few words of motivation you needed.

But now, you didn’t even asked for that. You just sat there, miserable and evidently on a verge of panic and John had no idea what to do.

“Y/N, you okay?” he tried again, taking couple of steps and sitting on a bed opposite you. You stayed in your position, unable to move.

“Dammit, say something.”

“Look into my bag,” you whispered and John frowned, reaching for it and tugging at the zipper. It opened and his gaze fell onto five boxes of tests, making him furrow his brows even more. He was staring at them, his heart pounding hard against his ribcage.

“All positive?” he murmured and you finally dared a glance at him. His expression wasn’t one of anger, he looked slightly confused and utterly dumbfounded.

“Yes,” you confirmed, running a shaking hand through your hair. Your hands were clammy so you rubbed them on your jeans.

John was silent for few minutes and then, he stood up, passing the bag into your hands.

“Come on, you need to see a doctor. We have to check if everything’s alright.”

Blinking away tears of relief, you followed him to his car and let him take you to a doctor.

And then, without a word, John showed his caring side, the side you never thought you’d witness. He made sure you ate decently, often times driving at night to quench your cravings. You were given the easiest tasks, usually doing research – John forbid you to go any near demons, explaining it with a fact that they would probably sense that you were pregnant and harm both you and the baby.

He would also surprise you with small things. Preparing your meds, so you wouldn’t forget to take them. Massaging your back or feet when you complained they hurt. He even took you shopping when your clothes started to be too tight.

And you couldn’t believe that you doubted in that man. That you forgot that he was responsible and would never leave you in such state.

However, you were still running a case, one that required you to meet Sam and Dean from time to time. And the time to meet them was nearing, making you fidgety and anxious.

You were sitting in the car, John driving you the city the boys were in, waiting for you to arrive. They said they found a lead and you had to see it.

“John, how are we going to tell them? They’ll be so pissed at me!”

“Stop worrying, Y/N. I’ll talk to them, you don’t have to stress out.”

“How can I not stress out? I’m younger than Sam and I’m carrying your child, you know what they’ll think. That I’m a-“

“No, you are not! Just breathe, Y/N, it’s going to be fine,” John soothed, patting your knee affectionately as the pulled over on a parking lot in front of a motel. You reached to the cubbyhole and took out a pack of jelly beans, offering one to John once you ripped the pack open.

With a small smile he refused your offer, so you shrugged and began eating the sweets as you made your way to the room the brothers told you they stopped in.

You adjusted your sweater, making sure it was covering your growing tummy properly. You wasn’t showing very much, but your belly was already slightly rounded and you didn’t want the boys to notice too soon.

“I can carry my bag,” you scolded when John opened the trunk and took out both yours and his duffel bags, swinging them onto his shoulder.

“You have something to carry, so I’m taking the bags.”

“Someone,” you corrected, giving him a mocked offended look and John planted a quick kiss to your temple as the two of you stopped in front of the door. You knocked loudly and in next second, a grinning Dean was standing in front of you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Ugghh,” you panted, trying to free from his grasp but to no avail. Dean had to have his hug, no matter what, so you hugged him back, coming to Sam when Dean released you, satisfied.

Sam held you briefly and curiously glanced at your snack.

“Since when you like jelly beans?”

You shrugged, putting three sweets in your mouth.

“Since when you’re so interested in what I eat?”

“Since you yelled at me and threw a pack of those when I bought them for you once.”

“Well, my taste changed,” you said dismissively, sitting by the table. John was already sitting on one of chairs and Sam took the last one left. Dean went to the fridge and opened it, bending a little to reach deeper.

“Dad, Y/N, want a beer?”

“No, thanks!” you said and Sam shoot you a strange glance – a mix of worry and amusement.

“Y/N, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, why?” you answered, leaning back in your chair. Sam eyed you and you freaked out for a moment when his eyes landed on your stomach. He said nothing, however, changing the subject to the lead they’d found.

They briefly summarized what they learnt, showing you photos and articles. You and John were nodding, John mentioned that you saw something similar in some other states and you began to form a plan about what to do next.

Everything was fine, and you were sure that you would not show any sign of different state until Dean rested his hands on the back of John’s chair and leaned in, lowering himself between you and John.

You smelled his cologne and it was enough to make you nauseous, prompting you to jump from your seat and dart to the bathroom, when you emptied your stomach to the toilet.

John was fast to slide in, despite your weak protest and tries to push him out. He kept from your hair from your face, gently rubbing your back and flushing the toilet when you stopped and proceeded to wash your face and mouth.

As the two of you entered the room, Sam and Dean were already on their feet, their arms folded over their chests. They looked concerned and expectant. You cleared your throat and sipped on a water after John handed you a glass.

“How bad is it?” Dean asked first, knitting his brows.

“How long do you have? And what meds are you taking?” his brother followed and you looked at John, confused.

He nodded and so you smiled softly at the boys before you said,

“Roughly six months and I’m taking folic acid and vitamins, since everything seems fine so far.”

“Waaaait,” Sam panted, his eyes growing wide as he began to realize what your words meant. Dean was glancing between you, his father and Sam, seemingly close to putting two and two together, too.

“Sam, does it mean that we-?”

“Yeah, Dean, I think she’s… you know.”

“I’m standing here, you morons,” you rolled your eyes and John shook his head, laughing airily.

“I know, I know. Okay,” Sam took a breath and his expression turned to a serious one. “Dad, I’m not happy that you demoralized Y/N-“

“but she’s awesome, so it’s cool. She can handle a lot,” Dean added and winked at you, making you giggle. Then, the boys came to you  but you didn’t allow them to hug you – you wanted to avoid any more meetings with the toilet.

“I’m gonna be a big brother!” Sam cheered and all of you laughed, while John put his arm around your shoulders.

“See, shouldn’t have worried so much. All’s good.”

You slid your palm over your stomach, stroking it gently.

“Yeah, all is good.”  

[junker-town]

‘Bachelorette’ Episode 1 recap: Rachel deals with a creepy doll that speaks French, a guy who yells ‘whaboom!’, and our scene is set

Buckle up, because Opening Day was a wild ride.

Well, folks, I hope you’ve got your fantasy league line-ups set and your cool beer chilling next to your La-Z-Boys, because it’s here: Dating Game Day. A.K.A. the first episode of The Bachelorette’s Season 13, when a roster of strapping men in their prime must impress Rachel Lindsay enough so that she doesn’t cut them from the squad after one trot around the field, which is in this case the grounds of a mansion in California.

As a Bachelor sportswriter for three seasons now, I think I can safely say that Rachel has quadruple the personality of your typical Bachelor or Bachelorette. Take Nick Viall, for example, last season’s cardboard cut-out of a man: If he were a crafting supply, he’d be wet paper maché. Rachel is glitter, but not the annoying kind that gets everywhere, the good kind that comes in glue tubes so you can draw with it.

Rachel is a lawyer from Dallas, and even though Nick cut her from the final three a few months ago, all the other women on the show and most of America seemed to fall deeply in love with her. I believe Chris “Crest White Strips and Apparently a New Dye Job” Harrison when he calls Rachel, “the most beloved Bachelorette of all time.”

She’s also the first black woman or man to star on the show. She recently spoke to Katie Barnes of ESPN and said this:

It's huge. It's very humbling to be the first. It was something that, I'll admit, I was scared to do. All the eyes on you, and people will have their opinions, and they'll be judging me, some for good and some for bad. Meanwhile, I'm trying to find love. That's a lot, and I didn't know if I wanted to go about it in this way.

Then, I thought of the positive. I have the opportunity to represent myself as a black woman to America, and show them that just because I'm black doesn't mean my search for love has to be any different. There's a lot of brave people that have paved the way for me to even have the opportunity to be the first black "Bachelorette."

I'm standing on their shoulders.

Now that we know what we’re doing here, let’s do it.

RACHEL’S INTRO

The first thing we need to talk about is Rachel’s adorable dog and how she’s allowed to fly with him or her. I’m a little worried about the dog because it appears to be wearing a cast. But maybe we’ll get to learn more about this delightful pet as the season goes on. A girl can dream.

Rachel gets to L.A. and says she feels like she’s in the movie Clueless. I deeply identify with this, because I’ve never been to L.A., but I’m pretty sure the first thing I would say when I got there was that I feel like I’m in Clueless. Clueless is the most culturally significant thing about L.A.

We see two old white ladies talking to Rachel on the street. One tells her she’s rooting for her, and the other tells her not to sleep with all of the guys. I yell, “Rachel can do whatever she damn well wants,” but the old ladies can’t hear me, because they’re in the television.

SEVERAL DUDE MONTAGES

"I don't want to come across as the guy who talks about his penis. BUT!" https://t.co/Zvqwmo8k7m http://pic.twitter.com/AQdV6112E7

— Rodger Sherman (@rodger_sherman) May 23, 2017

The best thing about the first episode of The Bachelorette is the intro videos some guys get. You might think, “Isn’t this a dead giveaway for who makes it far into the season?” But no, they aren’t. The producers are wily assholes known for pump fakes.

We meet Kenny, the wrestler with a 10-year-old daughter. We also meet Jack Stone, who gets two names for some reason, even though everyone else only gets one name. Jack Stone is a lawyer with a creepy smile. Alex from Detroit is a meathead who says “I like to code, I like technology, I like math, I like Rubik’s cubes,” which is something a robot doing an impression of a smart human would say.

"Rachel, Whaboom's coming for ya!" #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/6Lenx53Ztd

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 23, 2017

Then we meet Lucas, a guy who shakes his head back and forth very quickly while he screams “WHABOOM!!!!” It sounds like something a terrifying clown at a kid’s birthday party would do. I’m worried about Lucas. He makes me want to die a little bit.

I want to die a lot when we meet Blake E.. He says “I don’t want to come across as the guy who talks about his penis, but —” and, honestly, it doesn’t matter what he says next, because he’s already made his bed. I hate Blake E. with a passion reserved for my worst ex.

We also meet Diggy, who owns 570-something pairs of sneakers.

Josiah’s intro video is deeply sad and very moving; he tells the story of his brother’s suicide, and how Josiah had to be the one to cut his brother down from a tree in the backyard. Josiah says that he then got involved in crime, until a court judge pulled him aside at his hearing when he was 12 and said, “You have the best grades,” encouraging him to clean up his act. Josiah is now a lawyer in the same place he grew up.

THE LADIES FROM NICK’S SEASON ARE BACK AND I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW MUCH I MISSED THEM

My girls are the absolute best. Priceless advice....#theBachelorette #SquadGoals http://pic.twitter.com/CmOtKa6YFL

— Rachel Lindsay (@TheRachLindsay) May 23, 2017

Rachel’s BFFs from Nick’s season show up to counsel Rachel before the dudes arrive, and I almost start to cry, because it’s like being reunited with long lost friends. This is embarrassing. Admitting you feel like you’re friends with the cast of a reality show is about as Basic American as you can get. But Raven and Kristina and Corinne occupied so much of my brain space that saying I feel anything less than love for them would be a falsehood. And I am not in the business of fake news.

A fun thing my TV does is cut out when the subway runs underneath my apartment, so I miss part of this reunion. But when the picture cuts back in I see Raven start to cry as she tells Rachel, “I hope someone goes hard for you.” Now they’re all crying, and I’m not not crying, and for a moment I believe in true love.

RACHEL MEETS SOME MEN

The guys in the limo are all probably blacked out already, as is tradition on Opening Day. Peter gets out first. He’s a tall white man with a gap between his two front teeth. I think Rachel likes him because they seem to have chemistry, and then she stares at him as he walks into the house. She says, “he’s cute.” This reminds me of what Jojo did last season when she first met Jordan, and now they’re engaged. Don’t shoot the messenger.

"You will have no reasonable doubt that I'm the man for you." –Josiah with the lawyer humor! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/AoTcZCsFRv

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 23, 2017

Josiah the attorney shows up with a law joke that makes me groan. Kenny, the wrestler, shows up with dance moves. We meet Rob, a law student with a forgettable face, which I say because I can’t remember what his face looks like. Bryan speaks Spanish to Rachel. He is the guy at the bar who won’t leave you alone, even when you make it very clear you don’t need to learn how to say, “Yes, I would like to go home with you” in Spanish, because that won’t be happening.

MORE DUDES

There are so many dudes. I feel like I’m in a dude vortex.

Rachel meets DeMario, who Whitney from last season warned her about, but I can’t remember why. Rachel is going to give DeMario a shot, she tells Chris “Chambray Shirt Sleeves on a Saturday” Harrison.

Rachel also meets Fred, who shows up with a yearbook because they went to the same school when Rachel — who’s a few years older than he is — was his camp counselor. He shows her her photo from elementary school. Rachel says she’s having trouble seeing Fred as another other than “the third grader I used to discipline for being a bad little boy, and not in a sexy way.”

Brady the male model does this stupid “ice breaker” bit and I hate him.

Breaking the ice! Literal interpretations of metaphors with hammers for the win! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/4HUkMTIpGC

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 23, 2017

ONE GUY BRINGS A FUCKING FOUR-FOOT TALL DOLL TO MEET RACHEL LIKE HE’S SOME KIND OF WACKED OUT SERIAL KILLER

Adam, are you high? You’re going to bring a doll of yourself — named ADAM JR.!? — to meet a woman you’re trying not only to sleep with but also to ultimately marry? When, Adam, in the history of the world (besides horror films) has this bit ever worked? When have you showed up to a date with a stuffed human, whose face is rudimentarily drawn in with Sharpie, and actually gone home with a woman?

And, Adam, if this has sealed the deal for you in the past, how many of those women have left your house alive?

OTHER GUYS WHO SHOW UP:

Yes, he did do that! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/GWFjOmS4v2

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 23, 2017

There’s a man wearing a penguin suit, but I can’t remember his name. There’s Jack Stone, who I now realize sounds like a character from 50 Shades of Grey. There’s Lucas, the “Whaboom!” guy, who brings a megaphone to the set and tells Rachel one of his testicles is bigger than the other. There’s one guy, whose name I forget, who dresses up like Steve Urkel. There’s Blake E., the penis guy, who shows up with a marching band.

Hunter Harris, who writes for New York Magazine and actually critiques TV and film for a living, texts me this:

Really makes you think.

INSIDE THE HOUSE

Josiah scoops Rachel up first and tells her the story of how he’s a lawyer in the place he grew up. Rachel likes that story.

Dean, the white guy who said, “I’m ready to go black and never go back,” when he first met Rachel, sucks. She says she liked his opening line. Hunter says this:

Dean is kind of snivel-y and moved to L.A. for the beach. So he naturally brings a sandbox to the party, which no one wants, ever. The guy in the penguin suit, whose name I also can’t remember*, is balding.

*Side note: How does Rachel remember these guys' names without the TV name tags hovering over them IRL?

The producers have now dubbed French over the doll as though he were a human and I’m not sure whether I’m laughing or crying.

BRYAN WITH AN AGGRESSIVE KISS

I can’t stand Bryan, the smarmy Spanish speaker. He kisses Rachel, and I remember how kissing on the Bachelor/ette always sounds gross. Rachel seems to like it.

Demario says he’s the No. one seed, which is very much sports. Rachel says she likes DeMario.

MOHIT IS SO DRUNK THAT HE CAN’T SAY WORDS

Poor Mohit. He’s 100% going home.

Lucas, the “whaboom!” guy...

here's that David West / #TheBachelorette mashup no one asked for http://pic.twitter.com/ZIinC7V0Mq

— Mark (@tole_cover) May 23, 2017

...is narrating Rachel's conversation with Peter through the megaphone as they talk to each other. I thought I hated Lucas, but man, this is really funny. He’s quality television. He’s not going home. He is this season’s Corinne, and when he doesn’t win it all, I hope they find each other, get married, and have the most self-absorbed kids on the planet.

Blake E., Penis Guy who is certifiably Not Cool, calls out Whaboom guy, who has literally Nothing to Lose. Whaboom guy tells Blake E. that everyone has “a little whaboom” in them. But Blake E. clearly does not.

The beauty of The Bachelorette is that someone who’s profession is listed as “aspiring drummer” can try to tell someone who’s profession is listed simply as “whaboom” that he needs to take things more seriously.

Oh, also, some creep who calls himself a Tickle Monster tells Rachel to close her eyes and then tickles her. I wish she’d kneed him in the groin.

Kenny tells Rachel that his wrestling name is Pretty Boy Pitbull Kenny King. Kenny also tells Rachel about his daughter, and Kenny seems very sweet. I think I’m here for Kenny.

RACHEL’S LARGE ADULT SONS ARE ALL SO DRUNK

Bryan kisses Rachel again. Mohit, swaying back and forth as he slurs his speech in a corner, yells through a window, “NO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH AWAY!” I can say with certainty that if you try to tell me you’ve never been Mohit, you’re lying.

ROSE CEREMONY

Bryan gets the first impression rose. Rachel apparently was into his gross kisses. I’m not thrilled, but this is Rachel’s life to lead and game to win or lose as she sees fit.

We didn’t see much of Anthony, the handsome Fullbright scholar, but he gets a rose, and I think we’ll see more of him as the season goes on. I say this because I like Anthony and want to will this to be true.

Also safe from elimination are: Fred from Third Grade, Penis Guy, Whaboom Guy, and Adam the Doll Guy. In short: All of the ones who could be the annoying coworker in a rom com. I can’t tell if the producers make Rachel do this or if she’s smart enough to know she needs to keep some weirdos around for D-R-A-M-A. Probably the latter.

"Just Adam..." #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/R2AmTctlUw

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 23, 2017

But Rachel also keeps Kenny, Josiah, DeMario, Peter, and a few others I can’t remember but who all seem less likely to kill you in your sleep.

Poor, drunk Mohit goes home, which is probably for the best, because he’s most likely still recovering this epic hangover two months later. Blake K. goes home, too, which makes me sad, because he’s a marine who’s very handsome and seemed pretty cool. Blake K., if you’re single, DM me. Just kidding (but seriously).

The sun is coming up, because they shoot all night, and I can’t think of anything sadder than realizing the sun is rising and you’re black-out drunk in a mansion with 30 other dudes. But then again, I’m single, and one of these dudes is now engaged to Rachel, so maybe I’m the one searching for love in all the wrong places.

PREDICTIONS

I had my own ideas about who makes it far but I’m going to let my friend Wes Lowery tell you his very serious, capital J journalism predictions, because he’s won a Pulitzer before.

The white guy with the creepy teeth is Peter, for those of you keeping track at home. I would add, however, that I do really think Anthony will get some serious face time.

My early top 3 prediction: Anthony, Peter, and Josiah.

I miss some of the previews for the rest of the season because another subway train is going underneath my apartment, so the TV signal cuts out again. But I can tell that this guy Lee — who I forgot to talk about at all during the recap because I found his country-music, guitar-guy shtick boring — is going to be the villain. In one scene we see Kenny bleeding from the eye. Rachel has a meltdown and is crying in a corner in another cut. They go to Sweden. I am amped.

I also will be so bold as to say that I think this might be the best season of The Bachelorette yet. Rachel is compelling and funny, these dudes seem interesting, and we’ve already got a doll who speaks French, a dog wearing a cast, and a man in a penguin suit, so.

Let the best man win.