#why would you be in love with dean winchester

[ultravi0lence14]

Snow Bunny

dean winchester x angel!reader

895 | fluff

summary: you love the snow, and dean isn’t just getting flushed cheeks from the cold.

dean watched as you trotted through the snow like an overtly hyper bunny, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you twirled around in the blizzard.

you’d never been down to earth before, so when your first snow storm hit, dean couldn’t ignore the squeal that filtered through the bunker halls from your lips. you had run outdoors so quickly that the eldest winchester had to remind you about putting on layers.

ever since the weather had dropped, you’d been outside everyday. a striped scarf tightly wrapped around your neck as sam’s old carhartt jacket adorned your upper half. dean didn’t like the sight of you in his younger brother’s clothes, but it was all they had, and dean would rather little flints of jealousy than you freezing to death.

dean heard your giggles of excitement from where he stood by the bunker entrance, watching you adjust the crème earmuffs on your head. the strangest thing wasn’t dean’s massive boots on your feet so you wouldn’t freeze, it was the fact that you didn’t even want to play in the snow, just admire it.

attempting to get you to at least throw a snowball, dean stopped trying after the copious amounts of questions about snow angels and why they were named after you. so dean just watched, a genuine smile on his lips for the first time in a while.

he admired the snow that decorated your hair, making you look like a renowned painting. the way your denim skirt and white tights clung to your legs had his mouth watering, remembering all the things you had let him do to you last night.

the thoughts running around dean’s mind was halted by the sweet sound of your voice calling his name. he immediately looked over to you, watching as you excitedly waved him over to where you stood.

his strides were quick, a harrowing feeling in his gut that needed your body close to his. when he reached the place you stood, dean’s arms brushed out in front of his body; wrapping one arm around your waist so he could pull you to his chest, the other delicately brushing the side of your face with the back of his hand.

“what is it, my love?” dean breathed out, the softest his voice has possibly ever sounded. but he realized it did that a lot around you. soften. the thrones usually wrapped around his rough and hard voice pruned and delicately trimmed just for you.

a dazzling smile broke out across your face, prompting dean to almost buckle at the knees. “dance with me, dean.”

your request sent his eyebrow shooting up in mock surprise, but he didn’t mutter a single complaint as he gently took his hand off your face and rested it on the middle of your back. he held you tightly, the only sound being the crunching of snow beneath your feet as dean swayed both of your bodies side to side. your face was close to his, a breath away, and dean couldn’t help but admire all the features you could only see up close.

the mesmerizing allure of your eyes, drawing him in with the kaleidoscope swirls that adorned your irises. the light freckles that dusted your cheeks and swept over the delicate slopes of your nose like stars. he even noticed your fluttering eyelashes, flakes of snow stubbornly getting caught in them above your eyelids and making you look like a goddess in the snow.

dean found the hand plastered on your back moving from it’s place, delicately bringing it to your face before he softly brushed the fallen snow from your lashes. a giggle burst from your lips, and dean’s heart ached in a way only true love could achieve.

the pads of his fingers moved from your eyelids down to the slope of your nose, brushing the point in a sad attempt to rid it of the redness brought by the harsh air. his nimble fingers than moved to your lips, brushing your cupid’s bow with his pointer finger before swiping your bottom lip with his thumb.

he was enthralled by you. the way you looked up at him through your lashes and pouted your lips as his fingers ran over them sending his brain into a frenzy. dean had never felt like God had created someone specifically for him, but he was silently thanking the man upstairs for the creation of his precious angel.

in a silent plea of love, dean brushed his lips across the expanse of your forehead, his mouth moving with words that sent another flurry of snow in your stomach.

“i love you, angel.” he murmured, moving his head to rest on top of yours. “i thank heaven everyday that you came down to me.”

a solemn and peaceful look danced across your face, hands grappling at the fabric around dean’s waist as your hands rested there. you couldn’t think of any possible words that could express your love for dean winchester, so you just settled on resting your head against his chest, lips pressing a kiss above his heart as a way to declare your love for him as well.

for a little while longer, the two of you stood in the snow, swaying back and forth in each other’s embrace like two loving displays in a snow globe.

tags: @a1ecmcdowell @cosmicanakin @titsout4jackles @haunteres @ariasong11

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure where like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna come? That it, baby? You want me to make ya come?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to come for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like your only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… come for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[scoobydoodean]

sorry if this is old/annoying disk horse, or it's addressed later on in canon (i haven't been in the fandom long and i'm on season 6 of the show), but what do you think about john winchester being another righteous man? do you think he really was, or it was mostly just a manipulation tactic (from, if i am remembering correctly, the angels)? i remember the show saying he went through 100 years of torture and didn't break, which was a bit wild to me, but y'know what, sure. alternatively, any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

feel free to ignore if this is not your thing, or if it really is just annoying disk horse to go through, but i'd love to know your thoughts.

"The righteous man" is a story familiar to the angels and the demons. The prophecy foretold about the righteous man was that he would 1) shed blood in hell, breaking the first seal, and 2) be the only one who could end the apocalypse.

The bit about John being the original righteous man and not breaking on the rack was Alastair's manipulation tactic in 4.16 "On The Head Of A Pin":

I had your pop on my rack for close to a century. [...] John Winchester. Made a good name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I'd make him the same offer I made you. I'd put down my blade if he picked one up. [...] But he said nein each and every time. Oh, damned if I couldn't break him.

And then a little later:

ALASTAIR: You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you. DEAN: Bring what on? ALASTAIR: Oh, every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally you said, "Sign me up." Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch... That was the first seal. DEAN: You're lying. ALASTAIR: And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break. We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Topple the one at the front of the line. When we win, when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester. Believe me, son, I wouldn't lie about this. It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me.

John was never "the righteous man" meant to shed blood in hell though, so Alastair is lying at least in part (when he says it was "supposed" to be John). The concept of "the righteous man" originates with the angels/god, and Gabriel says in 5.08 that the archangels were always told it would be Dean and Sam who would be the vessels of the apocalypse who would end things, for the purpose of narrative symmetry with Michael and Lucifer.

You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. [...] Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always.

@swordofsun makes an excellent case here that while the angels knew Dean was "the righteous man" the whole time, the demons may have believed it was John they needed for a time. However, there's also reason to suspect the demons found out rather early that John wasn't the person they needed to break (Dean is offered a crossroads deal to trade his soul for John's by 2.08) so it's unlikely John was tortured for anywhere near 100 years in Alastair-torture-chamber-time. Alastair has a motive to twist the truth. He's noticing water dripping from a pipe about to break the devil's trap, and wants Dean distracted so he doesn't have time to warn Cas and Uriel. Alastair is also an extreme sadist, and he knows that John is a sore spot and that telling Dean not just that he broke the first seal but that his father was supposed to break it but was unbreakable would cause Dean immense emotional pain. It's not only something that causes Dean to feel incredible shame and guilt, but continues the narrative of Dean inheriting burdens intended for John that he can't carry.

any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

Alright. So. In the sense that Sam shoves Michael and Lucifer in The Cage thus "ending" the apocalypse it was foretold only "the righteous man" could end, I get what the argument is here. The problem is that from a practical standpoint, Sam doesn't break the first seal, so he already isn't the righteous man because of that. Additionally, Dean's arrival at Stull Cemetery is what actually allows Sam to take control over his body again. Without Dean showing up, Sam would never have taken back control of his body and the apocalypse would have happened anyway. So in a sense, the prophecy still transpires in a roundabout way through Dean breaking the first seal, then ending the apocalypse by showing up at Stull, making Lucifer angry (which destabilizes his control) while drawing Sam's consciousness to the surface so he can shove Lucifer and Michael into The Cage.

Practicalities of whether Sam fits the prophecy aside, I think the desire to frame Sam as the righteous man likely comes from a misplaced belief that the title of "righteous man" conveys actual status. The title of "righteous man" itself was a manipulative tactic intended to instill a sense of duty in Dean (that honestly worked very poorly because Dean simply isn't like Michael) and a sense of envy and inadequacy in Sam that would drive the brothers apart. The concept of "the righteous man" wasn't ever an honor or reward. It was a burden and a horror. It was a title bestowed on someone intended to be horrifically tortured, used, objectified, and forced to kill his own brother for the (alleged) "greater good". It is a huge mistake to envy that title and see it as a sign of status instead of shoving aside the curtain hiding the Wizard of Oz and recognizing that "the righteous man" and "the boy king of hell" were glorified titles for angel condoms being manipulated and used.

[codependency-spiral]

when im reading a fic and dean & sam are having sex in heaven this is all i can think about

[thepunkmuppet]

dean’s siren representing “the perfect brother” FUCKING BEHAVE HAHAAAAA WHAT EVEN I’M ACTUALLY LAUGHING SO HARD EVEN THE WRITERS WERE IN DENIAL

[puerile-fawn]

I just KNOW in my heart that Sam Winchester would be SUCH a girls girl. Like he'd be the kind of guy to overhear that you didn't have a hair tie and he'd be like, 'oh, I have a spare :)' and at first, girls would probably think he was just trying to hit on them, but then he gives them a kind smile and holds out a damn hair tie or a piece of gum or whatever else. And he would just be doing it, simply because, why wouldn't he?

[wincest-in-the-corner]

dean and ketch should've had a one night stand in the apocalypse world

[incesthemes]

it's a chicken-or-egg kind of conflict, built on unreasonable expectations and toxic desire.

sam and dean choose to be codependent in 1.22 devil's trap: they both make grandiose statements that communicate their devotion to each other. but then, between 2.02 everybody loves a clown and around 2.04 children shouldn't play with dead things, sam starts talking about honoring their dad and trying to do right by him. he's guilty that john died before they could actually have a good relationship; he's just started to forgive him for their upbringing, and now he's gone and the way he copes with that is by trying to follow in john's footsteps, as if to prove that he's fine now with the life he's given them.

but john just sold his soul for dean and told dean that he might have to kill his brother—dean has come to perceive john as an enemy. john is asking dean to do the impossible, and on top of that he's left dean without anyone to guide him and tell him how to act. and so dean has cast john out in favor of entering a codependent unit with sam. sam is now all dean has left, physically and emotionally, and sam just declared his devotion to dean in no uncertain terms, chose him definitively, and so sam is therefore agreeing to fill in all of the holes john left behind so that dean can feel whole again.

but here sam is "allying" himself with john.

and sam obviously isn't intentionally trying to hurt dean; he's having a normal response to death. but sam's loyalty to dean and john can't coexist in dean's eyes, and that means sam is reneging on his commitment to dean, even though sam absolutely did not do that. and so dean he keeps to himself and refuses to open up about the truth because he can't trust sam to side with him, afraid of rejection or admonishment (which he receives anyway across the beginning of season 2, reinforcing those fears). he's angry and he feels alone because sam "chose" john when dean needed him most.

and as a result, because sam is of course still trying to be codependent with dean, dean's refusal to open up and be honest with him is equally seen as a betrayal of their commitment. to sam, honoring john is not in conflict with being codependent with dean. yet for some reason, dean won't even talk to him. he expects complete and open honesty from dean with their new dynamic—secrets are no longer acceptable because they're supposed to be on the same page, always—and he's not getting it, and it hurts. all he can see is betrayal.

of course sam is going to mourn his father after he's worked so hard to forgive him. of course dean is going to get frustrated at having no one to share his grief and anger with. of course sam is going to be hurt by dean's rejection. of course they're going to be upset at each other's betrayal of a profound commitment. it's a lot of reasonable reactions to unreasonable expectations, irrational perceptions, and half-truths that distort and warp their realities into something toxic and unmanageable. it's all about those subtle moments which unknowingly communicate betrayal of an undernegotiated relationship, all amplified by the heightened tension of grief and loss.

and around and around it goes.

[quietwingsinthesky]

my self-insert ass would get killed if allowed within five feet of any angel though because im not a winchester and i cant keep my fucking mouth shut

[simplenefelibata]

"There's things, there's... people, feelings that I... I wanna experience differently than I had before. Or maybe even for the first time."

maniacally screaming crying throwing up ripping out hair chewing down glass sobbing hysterically scratching the wall biting jumping out of a building punching kicking hissing shrieking cursing tearing up if u even care

[s0fter-sin]

we all know dean wears john’s jacket after he takes it from his hotel room in the pilot. but i completely forgot we also see him wear it to school in the flashback episode in s4, where he’s fronting like mad and feeling like just as much of an outsider as sam

which means he’s always used it as a comfort item. which means john let him wear it and knew, at least on some level, that it helped him. he let him wear it enough that dean doesn’t hesitate to grab it in the pilot when he needs the comfort

but more importantly, john leaves it behind for dean to find

he could’ve taken it with him when he dropped the woman in white hunt (he takes all his other gear, weapons and clothes), but he leaves it on the coat rack where dean could easily find it. he knew he’d be gone for a long time, if not outright suspecting that he’d die going after the yellow-eyed demon, and he deliberately leaves the jacket behind for dean to find comfort in

[19catsncounting]

Therapy isn't enough I need the CW to go back and re-film Season 11 to prove that Lucifer could have been saved if Michael didn't abandon him like Dean refused to abandon Sam.

[streets-in-paradise]

-My life is falling apart.

-I go to the tag of my favorite movie to cope.

-I spot someone once again spilling the same old, narrowed bullshit I vocally complained against dozen times.

-I go back to my blog and search for my old fics.

[slytherintothedms]

finally caved and started watching supernatural only to realise now i'm halfway through s3 that i can't watch s14 + 15, actually fml what did i do to deserve this

[rennerator]

MY, MYYYY, MYYYYYYYYYY Oh My!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!! Like, SERIOUSLY!!!!! S2 LOVE LOVE LOVE I LOVE THIS SO SOOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!! :D SOOO SOOOO GOOD!!!!! GORGEOUS, MARVELOUS!!!!!! HOOOOOOOOOOOOT!!!! Like, IT IS SOOOO EMOTIONAL and ALSO feels SOOO INTIMATE!!! MAJESTIC and MAGICAL, THE KISS THERE, SEEEEEEXY!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!! SOO SOOOO BEAUTIFUL!!!!! It FEELS like Dean is giving himself FULLY to this being that is there to save him! Even though he was TAUGHT not to "need" and not to "depend on" others, it feels like it is Dean's SOUL that is NEEDING this BEING to be closer, this "person" to embrace him, to hold him close. It is Dean's SOUL that is calling out to Cas there and wanting to BELONG, to BE TOGETHER, to make a PROFOUND BOND with this angel that has seen the WORST of Dean and YET STILL finds him BEAUTIFUL!!! S2 It is like Dean's SOUL is telling Dean, himself, that this BEING will be THERE for him no matter what, that this ANGEL is what Dean has been looking for since forever. Sorry about that, just wanted to share my emotions and thoughts while seeing this MAGNIFICENT ART here!!! :D LOVE LOVE LOVE Also, MY MY MYYYYYY, SCRUFFY and CHEST-HAIRED Cas? YEEEEEEEES YEEEEEEES YEEEEEEES, PLEEEEEEEASEE!!!!! HOOOT HOOOOT HOOOOT!!!! SOO SOOOO F* GOOOD!!!! ;) Thank YOU!!!! THANK YOU SO SOOOOOO MUCH for this!!!! You are INCREDIBLE!!!! :) <3

I know your soul is not tainted Even though you've been told so