#winchesterbro

[shiklah]

Valentine's Day

Supernatural

Dean Winchester x reader

She sat on the dirty bed in the dingy motel, listening to the hum of some show—probably House M.D.—playing quietly, merely shyly reminding her of the existence of the television.

She was reading a book she had found in the nightstand, though it didn’t really captivate her. Not enough for her to forget what day it was.

Her red-painted nails tapped absentmindedly on the already battered cover of the book as she waited for the door to burst open and for him to stand there—with a bouquet of flowers, movie tickets, and a bottle of cheap red wine.

And then, a moment later, it happened. The door slammed open, and Dean stood there. But he wasn’t holding flowers, tickets, or alcohol. In fact, he was barely standing on his feet, leaning his shoulder and forehead against the doorframe. The smile on his face seemed to almost spill over.

Right behind him, Sam stood in the doorway as well. With the same lazy smile and the same problem keeping him on his feet. And that’s when she realized that the men hadn’t been injured on the hunt as she had initially thought. They were simply drunk to the point of near incapacity.

Without saying a word, she shot both men a furious look, then stood up from the bed, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the decaying wooden door behind her. She twisted the rusted key in the lock, then sat on the edge of the bathtub. She placed her hands on her knees, thinking about the conversation she had been living with for the past year.

“I feel really lonely,” she gasped, as his hand pulled her closer to his warm body. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Don’t tell me you were expecting something,” he murmured sleepily, burying his face in her hair. She pulled away from him, sitting up so abruptly that he lifted his heavy head from the pillow. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, irritated.

“What do you actually want?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Dean. I know we didn’t make any promises, but I need to feel special, just once a year.”

“I didn’t promise you anything. I don’t understand why you were setting yourself up for anything,” he shrugged, then laid his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes, hoping that by doing so, he would end the tiresome conversation.

They had met two years earlier on a loud ghost hunt in Lancaster. At first, Dean had been a nuisance to her. Loud, too confident, annoying, stubborn, and flirtatious. They kept getting in each other's way, and Sam, like the best diplomat, had to play mediator. However, after spending a long week together, full of arguments, they finally came to some understanding. And then they celebrated the fact that they hadn’t lost any limbs and that the body count was low—a successful hunt, in other words. They celebrated so well that in the end, they ended up in bed. Since then, the Winchesters and she had been inseparable.

She had fallen in love with him long ago. His loudness no longer bothered her; now it seemed expressive and funny. He wasn’t overly confident anymore; he just knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stubborn; he was focused on the goal. Even his flirtatiousness didn’t bother her anymore.

However, in moments like this Valentine’s evening, it didn’t change the fact that he was still irritating. In fact, in her opinion, he was cruel.

She was like a little puppy. She was there for him only when he needed her. She stayed silent when he wanted and spoke when he asked her to. She was loyal, even though he wasn’t. When he told her to stay, she stayed; when he told her to leave, she left. She wasn’t demanding, and Dean loved that.

He had what he needed, without ever considering what she needed. When he wanted, he had a friend, and when he asked, he had a lover. He didn’t think much about her. She was something constant, something that would always be there, no matter what he did. Like a puppy. And she did it in the hope that she might win even a crumb of his love. That, for just a moment, he would treat her with the same care he gave to Sam. Or that he would consider her opinion as he did Bobby’s. Or that he would respect her the way he respected Ellen. Or that, just once, he would look at her with eyes full of understanding and affection, without anger, irritation, or cold desire. She wanted him to be only for her, just as she was only for him. She wanted to be his whole world, his shining hope for a better tomorrow, his ray of sunshine on the darkest days, the person he thought of when he laid his head on his pillow at night and when the blinding morning light woke him. She wanted to be all the things he was for her.

But Dean didn’t know that yet.

“Sorry I wanted to go out on V-Day with the man I’ve been sleeping with for a year,” she said sarcastically. Dean opened his eyes again, and a scowl was painted on his face. However, he took two deep breaths and calmed down a little. That conversation was definitely not worth his sleepless night.

“Okay, next year I’ll make it up to you with flowers, chocolates, candles, rose petals, or whatever you come up with.”

“Dean,” she said calmly, but firmly, and the blonde merely mumbled in response to show he was listening. “You need to show me there’s something worth waiting for.”

She looked down at the old bathroom floor. Her bare feet clapped against the beige tiles, and not a single stupid tear rolled down her cheek. And that’s when she realized that maybe she didn’t love him after all.

***

The pain in his head woke him. Throbbing, unrelenting, and penetrating. He slowly sat up, gently resting his head against the bedframe. He reached for a glass to wash away the dryness in his throat, but the glass was empty. He glanced around the room. First, he saw the closed blinds, the table with stacks of pizza boxes, the turned-off TV, the open bathroom door, two beds—one a mess, the other neatly made—until his gaze finally landed on Sam. Sam was sitting deeply in an armchair, resting his chin on his folded hands, holding a phone. He stared into space, as if not really present at all.

“Did someone die?” Dean joked, flashing a mischievous smile. Sam, as if awakened from a trance, quickly turned to face him, shooting him an angry, almost venomous look.

“Hopefully not,” Sam hissed, then stood up from the chair and began pacing around the room. Dean leaned toward the nightstand in search of medicine. He opened the drawer but found nothing except an old, worn copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s Poems. He sighed loudly, and the headache only intensified. “This is all your fault, idiot.”

“What’s your problem now?”

“Don’t you think something’s changed?”

Dean looked around the room again. There were no meds in the drawer and no water in the glass, both of which were always there when he had a hangover. There was no fresh breakfast smell, no music, no show playing on the TV. There was no laughter, no sound of the shower, no sweet perfume. There was no warm, female body in his bed, no touch of soft skin, and no silky hair. And that could only mean one thing.

“Where is she?”

“Great question, I’ve been asking myself the same thing for an hour,” Sam said. He paced the room again. “She’s gone. Left me a pathetic note on the nightstand and sent a text with a photo.”

“What did she write?”

“She said she wants to hunt alone, that she’s leaving, that she’ll miss us, and we shouldn’t worry,” Sam started listing, collapsing back into the chair. “She said we shouldn’t look for her.”

“What does that even mean? Someone must have kidnapped her, something must have happened to her,” Dean said, jumping out of bed as if burned, forgetting about his headache for a moment. He quickly put on his pants and reached for his jacket to go out and start looking for her, but Sam’s voice stopped him.

“She’s fine,” Sam said, standing up quickly and showing Dean the photo she had sent earlier that day. She was sitting behind the wheel of her car, wearing the gray hoodie Sam had given her for her birthday some time ago. Her face was framed by a pair of sunglasses, and the wind from the slightly open window blew through her hair as she smiled widely.

“One stupid picture doesn’t mean anything,” Dean shrugged and reached for his leather jacket again.

“She told me…” Sam started but hesitated for a moment. He took a deep breath and continued. “She told me some time ago that she wanted to leave.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean grumbled. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Hell, can you blame her?” Sam stormed around the room again and sat down at the dirty table. Dean sat across from him, waiting for an explanation, any shred of information about the woman or where he could find her. "Every time you went out to the bar or on a date, without a word, she’d put a bottle of whiskey on the table, then pour us glass after glass. She told me a lot about her life, about her grandmother and little sister, about the cottage in the countryside where she always spent her vacations. She asked me about our parents and the house in Kansas. You spent so much time together, and she didn’t even know you were born in Kansas!’

Dean turned his face away and shifted in his chair, slightly irritated. But he didn’t know what that irritation was caused by. Was it that she had disappeared without a word? That she left Sam a letter and sent him a text message, and he seemed invisible to her? That Sam knew more about her than he did? That they spent so much time together while he was absent?

He wasn’t irritated. He was just jealous.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Have you gone completely stupid? She loved you, Dean."

He knew. Of course, he knew. Only a complete idiot wouldn’t have figured it out. But oh, how easy it was to pretend and convince himself that he didn’t know. How easy it was not to think about her feelings, about how he hurt her, about how he treated her. He never cared whether she’d be upset, whether she’d leave him, or what she’d think of him. He knew two things—she loved him, and he never promised her anything.

He had become a master at deceiving himself. Every day he told himself that her smile didn’t make him happier, that her little gestures—like making breakfast or taking care of him when he was sick—didn’t make his heart race, that going to bed with another woman whose name he couldn’t remember didn’t make him think only of her and how he was breaking her heart.

"You probably think it’s stupid, but she kept talking to me about last year’s Valentine’s Day. About how you promised her something special—and at least, she was expecting something special. And you came back... WE came back drunk, not even noticing that she locked herself in that disgusting bathroom for a solid two hours."

He knew what he had promised her. And he also knew what, between the lines, she had promised him. He was once again deceiving himself that it wasn’t true, but he knew she’d leave him if he disappointed her again. And maybe that’s exactly why he got so drunk. So he wouldn’t have to endure the pain of being abandoned, a pain he fully deserved.

***

A month passed. The brothers continued living as they had before meeting her. They went from case to case, got a little bruised, drank a little, fought a little. Sam missed her, as he had in his nature. Dean didn’t seem to care, as he had in his nature. Or at least, he seemed not to care.

For the past month, Dean’s life had been governed by obsession. Although he told himself it was driven by concern. He thought he was just worried about the woman, that surely something bad had happened, because what other reason could there be for her disappearance? Or for not hearing from her in weeks, even though she was supposed to be there forever? Or for her not even saying goodbye, not telling him, at least for that one last time, that she cared about him? Something must have happened.

So Dean had an obsession. Honestly, he had it long before the woman disappeared. The problem was that now it had spilled out, with all the hidden jealousy, a mass of unspoken feelings, resentment toward her and toward himself.

He wrote. He wrote to her every chance he got.

Sometimes he wrote light-hearted messages. He told her jokes, talked about hunting situations, or encounters with old friends. Sometimes he mentioned his childhood or family, trying to make up for lost time.

Sometimes he wrote sadly. He told her who had been hurt during a hunt and what exactly had happened. He kept her updated on who was dead and who had nearly died. Once or twice, he mentioned his parents’ deaths, but shortly after that, he regretted even bringing it up.

Sometimes he wrote with anger – the way he used to address her. He reminded her of everything that had come to his mind. How she yelled at him when he needed her support, when he had sold his soul. How upset she got when he came home drunk. How she ran away from him. But each time, he regretted those angry messages more than anything else in the world. Still, he kept writing them.

And she never replied.

Sam had dimmed a little. He didn’t know what he expected, he didn’t really know what he felt. He truly and deeply loved her, and he knew she loved him, even though they’d only said it once. That time, when Dean almost died for the the umpteenth time. They clung to each other, crying silently, unsure of what else to do. No words were exchanged; they simply wept, holding on tightly. And they fell asleep like that, curled up together, with traces of tears on their cheeks, full of regret and longing for someone they both couldn’t, and were afraid to, lose. So, it could be said with certainty that their friendship was built on the love for Dean Winchester.

Sam knew that Dean was in love. He knew, he saw it, but he didn’t say a word. Who was he to interfere? He supported her when she suffered from an unrequited love and tried to understand Dean when he saw how he was hurting her. But when the woman decided to break out of that vicious circle, Sam was filled with a strange calm. He knew that she had chosen not to love either of the Winchesters, whether romantically or platonically, but to love herself.

***

Six months passed. Sam received a picture. She was leaning against her car, wearing shorts and a sweater, the same glasses still perched on her nose, her hair, now a little longer, was blowing in the wind. In the background, there was a wild beach by a lake, and [T.I.] was smiling, calm, and happy…

Under the photo was a short message: I took a little vacation xx

Sam debated for a long time whether he should even show his brother what he had received. He didn’t want to bring him down any further or give him false hope.

Six months had passed, but Dean’s obsession only intensified. He was sending fewer messages and decided to take action.

He tried to track her phone, but all his attempts were futile. He went to Bobby for help, but Bobby sent him away with the words: Leave that poor girl alone. He didn’t even want to discuss it with Sam, he knew his opinion.

Dean thought a lot. The past two years spent together replayed in his mind like a movie, and he always reached the same conclusion – that girl was very stupid.

He couldn’t explain the fact that he had rejected her time and time again, each time more harshly and painfully, and yet she always returned, like a boomerang, with even more patience and love. He manipulated her, treated her worse than an intruder, just to exchange hot kisses with her in the privacy of his beloved car in the evening. He would pull her in, then push her away, as if testing the limits of her endurance.

He wasn’t surprised she was in love with him. This thought didn’t come from vanity but from the fact that he had wanted to make her fall in love with him.

He knew she liked poetry. So he learned a few poems, which he would recite to her in his quiet, deep voice, cuddling up to her back on cold nights. He knew she liked horror movies, so once a week, almost casually, he would turn one on the old motel TV, just so she would cuddle into his arm with a smile on her face and stay that way for the next two hours. He never cared about the movie. He reveled in her scent, the feeling of her hand tightening on his forearm, the soft closeness that made his heart race. He knew she loved lakes, so as they drove from case to case, they would pass one, and she would sigh with admiration, which always made a small, satisfied smile appear on his face.

“Dean,” Sam finally spoke, slowly getting up from the bed. Dean raised his gaze from the file of some ancient demon they were dealing with at the time.

The brunette handed him the phone, and the man saw her face. Something pricked his heart when he saw her smiling and free from worries. Free from him.

He decided to let go.

***

She was crawling backward on her wounded hands, and the deathly pale silhouette of the woman was approaching her relentlessly. She knew this was the end. Bruised, tired, and terrified, she just closed her eyes, resigned to her fate. However, death didn’t come.

Instead, there was a loud shot, and the ghost dissolved into the air like an unpleasant memory. The woman quickly turned, and over her shoulder, she saw none other than the Winchester brothers, who, once they recognized their old friend, stood frozen.

A few long, silent seconds passed before Sam rushed to her and hugged her tightly to his chest. She gave a soft moan, to which the brunette loosened his grip slightly. He pulled her away, holding her by the shoulders, as if to confirm that it was really her, his closest friend, whom he hadn’t seen in a year, sitting on the floor of a dilapidated basement in one of the abandoned buildings in New York.

“Hey, Sammy.” She gave him a faint smile, despite her bruised cheek. Sam, seeing her pain-stricken face, quickly picked her up and headed toward the Impala parked outside.

Dean was boiling inside, but he just stood there, watching. He should be kneeling beside her, stroking her bruised back, pressing her cold cheek to his, whispering words of comfort, giving her a moment of relief for her tired body and soul. Yet, he just stood there.

“You need medical attention,” Sam murmured as he passed by the other man, holding her in his arms. She gave Dean a blank look before tiredly closing her eyes and nestling into the younger of the brothers.

The past year had been the freest she had ever been. If she wanted to go somewhere, see something – she just went and watched. If she wanted to meet someone – she just met them. If she needed a break from hunting, she took it. She was free, not having to consider anyone else’s opinion, rules, or approval, or the lack of it. No one’s feelings mattered except hers. The last year had taught her to be selfish.

The drive to the motel was quiet. The woman rested her head on Sam’s shoulder, who sat next to her in the back seat. Dean, on the other hand, drove uncertainly, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror to get a closer look at the woman he hadn’t seen in months. She hadn’t changed much. There were a few new tattoos, her hair was dyed, a bit longer, maybe she looked a little paler than before. Aside from that, and all the bruises, scratches, and blood, she looked pretty ordinary, just like before.

They entered the motel, and the woman immediately claimed the bed closest to the door. She awkwardly collapsed onto the pillows, and the familiar scent of the perfume she had once known hit her nose. The perfume she had long forgotten. It no longer evoked the warmth, safety, or desire it once had. Now, it was just a pleasant scent, but not unforgettable.

Dean, still not saying a word, took a beer from the fridge and opened it effortlessly. He took a long sip, then set it on the table. He sat down in a chair, staring at the woman who was resting on his bed.

His heart was breaking. Watching her so hurt, bruised, and suffering. He felt the tears welling up in his eyes, but swallowed the sadness that had gathered in his throat and drank away the despair with cold liquor.

Sam, on the other hand, came out of the bathroom with a large first aid kit. The girl turned onto her back and pulled her shirt up to her chin, revealing her badly wounded and bleeding chest.

The younger brother measured her body with a worried look, then sat on the bed. He first carefully scanned her hips, stomach, and breasts, and Dean felt a surge of anger. No one, however, paid attention to his frustration, and Sam began cleaning up the remnants of her once porcelain skin.

“Maybe I’ll do it,” Dean finally offered shyly. Both Sam and her focused their gaze on him, and silence filled the room.

“No,” she decided firmly, glancing back at Sam. He almost imperceptibly nodded and silently returned to his task. Dean turned away and took another swig of alcohol.

“You really got banged up,” Sam remarked when, after wiping away the dried blood, a long, though not too deep, wound appeared before him, running from her sternum down to her left hip. The woman snorted briefly, feeling a sharp pain in her lungs.

“Not the first time, and not the last.”

“Are you really not going to talk about it?” Dean finally snapped. He jumped out of the chair and slammed the bottle onto the table. “You just ran off, disappeared without a word, melted away like fucking camphor! I’ve probably sent you a million messages, and the only thing you could do was send a stupid picture, and not to me, but to Sam? Did you two sleep together as well or is there something else I don’t know about?”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell in the room. Sam looked at both the woman and his brother, waiting for the next development. Maybe he should leave?

The silence was broken by her laugh. It wasn’t the pearly, warm, and sweet laugh it used to be. It was mocking, sarcastic, unpleasant. Dean lost his composure, furrowed his brows, and stepped back a little.

“I wasted two years of my life on you, and you want me to give you more.” She looked at him scornfully. “I forgot that Dean Winchester is the center of the world and…”

“I love you.”

Sam stood up without a word and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

“But I don’t love you anymore, Dean.”

It rooted him to the spot. He could almost physically feel his heart drop into his stomach, and his throat tightened uncomfortably. His hands instantly grew sweaty, and his eyes glazed over with sorrow. He wiped his hands on the legs of his pants and cleared his throat nervously. He looked down, seeing the dirty, worn-out carpet. He gave a slight nod, trying to sort out what exactly he wanted to say. He took a breath, releasing all the disappointment, self-loathing, and anger from his lungs. He sat on the bed next to the woman, and she closely observed every one of his movements.

“I know. You don’t have to. I don’t want that.” He took another deep breath and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Do you remember that night when we went to play pool in Louisiana? You wore that plaid dress, the one I knew you only wore for me. Your hair fell over your shoulders, you used those sweet, fruity perfumes, painted your nails black, and everyone paid attention to you.”

The woman only watched him in silence. She remembered that night. Dean surprised her like never before, inviting her on a real date (though he never called it that). She had tried for him, hoping that something would change in their relationship. But that night ended like every other one.

“When you were asleep, I lay there for a long time, inhaling that perfume... And I really felt at home.”

More silence, but this time, it was less suffocating. The woman slightly lifted herself on her arms, leaning against the headboard.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I knew you loved me, and I knew I loved you. I guess I didn’t want to admit that to myself because... because thinking about you made me dream of something I’ll never have. I started thinking about a peaceful, settled life that I’d really love to give you. I wish I didn’t have to worry about whether we’ll survive another horrible day, or if by the end of the day, I could hold you again and tell you how much you mean to me, or if every morning I could wake up with you in my arms. I knew I was hurting you, and I knew you’d leave one day, but I preferred to convince myself that I didn’t know. Because it was easier. And I’m sorry I chose the easier option, that I gave up the fight for what we could have had. And I don’t want you to take me back. Treat me like air. Like I’m not even here, but I want to stay with you and make sure you survive another day.”

“There’s this poem,” the woman sighed, staring into the space in front of her. She placed her hands on her battered thighs. “With a farewell kiss, When the time for parting has come, Today, I no longer hesitate to admit: You were right - now I know - My life was a dream... Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean.”

[archiveofvirtue]

pov: you are in a secret relationship with jensen ackles ᡣ𐭩

youruser

Liked by madelyncline and others

youruser in aspen it’s snowin’ ❄️

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girlblogg y/n living her best life

vixen67 why can’t I be y/n??

yourbestiesuser so sad i couldn’t make it, but have fun you two

youruser we definitely are 😎

anonuser who is this secret hottie @/youruser

modelzdaily gotta fbi my way into this atp

randomuser there’s been rumors that she’s dating @/jensenackles

spnfan726 stop spreading lies

ari4president isn’t he married??

randomuser girl- he’s been divorced for like a year now 😭

jensenackles

Liked by jaredpadalecki and others

jensenackles 🏂

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hellraiser666 oh he been livin’

spnfan618 a vacay with jensen would make me go sane again

forjackles you’re so real for that

randomuser getting all cozy with @/youruser huh

j2indahouse can u not? nothings confirmed

randomuser please its so obvious

gibson-g1rl he looks so good..im going feral

superstarmisha bark bark

youruser

Liked by misha and others

youruser yeehaw 🤠

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anonuser it’s giving summer camp and im here for it

hottogo dreamy

yourbestiesuser my favorite cowgirl

youruser smooches 😽

tvdstan3 helloo?? I wanna know who she’s with all the time

genpadalecki the hat’s been made for you 🙌🏼

youruser duh i had the best shopping partner !!

spnfam67 *shook*

daddycas123 a duo we didn’t know we needed

jensenackles

Liked by youruser and others

jensenackles pretty comfortable up here 😁

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beanwinchester this man aged like fine wine fr

youruser save a horse, ride a cowboy

liked by jensenackles

joywithin oh..OH-

spnultras SHE DID NOT

jacklesmylove ohgod he liked her comment

jaredpadalecki why the long face? 🤣🤣

winchesterbros no jared..nope

randomuser i wanna ride (not the horse tho)

youruser

Liked by jensenackles and others

youruser about last week 🍝

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dailyfits ohh she bougie

mishabear THE TATTOO?? THATS JENSEN

spnfan123 yup, definitely him

sammygirl why is no one talking about this??

girlzzz444 face card never declines

jesswinchester jensen carrying her shoes? 😫

sirenshay such a gentleman,,im so jealous

belovedregina serving cunt in all possible languages

supernctural they must be dating atp

hope u enjoyed this, i always wanted to do something like this !!

feedback and requests would be appreciated.

got inspired by the lovely @gibson-g1rl !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @angelicjackles @nxptvn @pinkgic @nourties @alluvthegurlz

[bracketsonbrackets]

Alright, time for tournament 10, Supernatural Characters!

I promised someone (i'm sorry to whoever it was) that i would do a Supernatural Characters bracket after the last one i did but i took a longer break than intended.

I know having sam go against dean in the first round is ridiculous but this was chosen randomly by a program so i had no control over it.

As usual, the rules are the same. vote for your favorite based on actor, personality of character, their looks, etc.

And as always, enjoy! 😊

Round 1: July 1, 2024 @ 12 AM

Round 2: July 9, 2024 @ 12 AM

Round 3: July 17, 2024 @ 12 AM

Round 4: July 25, 2024 @ 12 AM

Winner gets announced on July 31, 2024 @ 12 AM

Tagging people to get this going: @worldlxvlys @dean-sam-winchesterbros @supernaturaldaily @supernaturalimagine @winchester-reload @deanwinchesterdaily @samwinchesterblog

[mayventuraart]

Well. Here’s my 2023 #SUPERNATURAL VARIANT COVER project. From now on, and idk til when, I’ll be doing Supernatural fake variant covers for a fictional comic book series inspired in the episodes from the show✨

I whould LOVE to draw a full comic series of Supernatural someday but unfortunatelly I don’t have enough time for that right now so that will do the trick… for now 👀

You can find so much more SPN miscellania on my IG. I’ll keep this tumblr account just to the SPN VARIANT COVER project

*

So here you have the first one! PILOT. With the iconic “Easy tiger” moment and the woman in white✨

*

Supernatural Fake Variant cover 1: PILOT.

#Spnfamily #SamWinchester #DeanWinchester #Winchesterbros #SPN #jensenackles #jaredpadaleki

[unabashedlyinlove]

Goddam, he is so pretty!

[collarbjt]

Charlie marathon from s9-s10

Spn 904, slumber party

It’s been a long time to see sucker Crowley for me, ha. Also our lovely Kevin…

I think Charlie is a great hunter and also the greatest woman of letters. Really, this knowledge nerd party is kind of database, and the computer engineer-hacker is the best data master in this era!

I see, the world-risk alarm computer system was build in 3 years, at modern-age? Holy shit, what a high tech

Really, nothing can be totally removed from the internet… ofc, the SPN novel can’t avoid it’s destiny

Charlie’s eyes sparkled with full of interests….I love the moment, girl. The moment you lit up your eyes with the curiosity of a new adventure in your life

Dorothy is still cool, glad to see her again.

I think Crowley wants to be a ‘daddy’ of many wicked or strong women like Amara or witch of Oz. Ewww it’s kinda creepy Crowley yaknow

Poppy bullets, it’s a flower bullet!! So romantic weapon for the witch lol

Crowley(and his actor) has soo many talents, that ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ whistle is perfect

Also Dorothy’s so Charlie’s type lol

Charlie,,,,,,,,was a brave girl, she’s always brave… till the end and that so. Hurts. Me.

“Merry Christmas” that line is so lovely, girl.

Haha you’re not a real hunter until you died and come back again-this line from Dorothy fits so well to hunter life lol

Charlie excited about Garage is existed!!🤣 What a perfect it nerd, you lovely girl

… well I think Charlie’s right. that obsessed by witch voice is really similar to Batman voice 

Charlie beat Dean’s balls lol You harsh girl

Charlie didit!!!! Ding dong you girl didit!!!

Crowley is a big fan of the musical Wicked, I think.

Awwwwwwwwwww Charlie………..going amother world to find new adventures…. Love this girl so much

SPN 1011, Bad Charlie Good Charlie

This episode feels so iconic for me, auch a Märchen but…bad Charlie is so hot

“Our Charlie? Yea high never hurt hobbit” oh this line is soo precious, it literally shows how sweet girl charlie is🥹 and well bad charlie‘s torture(?)…it‘s so strong, let’s say…a little ‘beat’ing is just desserts, isnt’it

Dean really loves Charlie so much, they have real ‘Big Brother & Youngest Sister’ vibe🥰

Bad Charlie’s so hot… well good Charlie is surely a cutiepie, and they’re both genius

‘Unleash her true darkness’ is just get revenge to her parent killers,? No matter how she called, she’s our Charlie ofc

That not delicious Wellington guy is a jerk

Is that guy’s apolgization is real or just pretense?? Whatever Dean’s right it’s not her fault

bad Charlie’s so womanizer hey you giiirrrrl… And Dean’s tricked, I also tricked AGAIN what a smart girl

Why Bad guys are always sexy,

Oh and good guys impressed us…. “I’m sorry”, “I always forgive you” 😭

“Magic is in you all the time”… I’m crying yeah Charlie is so magical girl, and I almost love her bad version too so much.

Uhhhh Forgiving each other is such an important things for everyone…literally everyone. I hope everyone

I love to see someone hugging Charlie… feel so warm, lovely. Charlie demand Dean a prove, Love that line also.

SPN 1018, Book of the Damned

Fucking Steins, Charlie beats you guys a lot you dummers. But I cannot agree more about that book’s name is so spot on. It’s so ‘Damned’

Oh, Cass and Metatron, nice to see this duo again. I like how Metatron makes Cass annoying a lot, it’s hilarious

Really, stop fighting each other you Winchesterbros, Charlie is so amazing hunter, bc though she being a Hunter, not so long , but she knows the hunter work never ends with only sweet cherries, but end with dilemmas, death and tears.

Again Sam, You need to be honest with your brother about your desperate words

Oh Angels, stop ruining the library

No, you Steins idiot, only the weak people are desperate to get the power and waste it. The wise people avoids the hardest way.

Sam, you should burn it…. Must , burn it…..!!!!

This girl still believe in good, and met an Angel …sweet scene

SPN 1021, Dark Dynsty

Soon, the Two Red haired geniuses witches met each other

Please listen to Charlie Sammy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!🤯

For Dean…. This sweet girl says only sweet things, but I really wanna do thing for you Charlie, like you dedicate to your friends…

Those high-intelli elite professionals talking is so interesting, because they hate but understand each other lol

Why all Rowena’s prophecies are all….real……. Such a worst greatest witch… Charlie’s loyal to her friends yeah it’s good but…..your life is is worthless seriously, worthless

Cass please follow her, done let her alone…

Charlie!!! Charlie..!!!!!!

Sam you have to burn it….!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fuckinsteins

Oooookay, I’ll end here. Can’t see her last again. …

I love this marathon and see her again. I really love you dear Charlie…..

[haley-harrison]

tagged by @the-cucco-nuggie

tag 9 people you want to get to know better.

Last song: Mindless Self Indulgence - Witness

Last movie: The Glass Onion (a Knives Out mystery)

Last show: The Sandman

Currently watching: nothing (obsessing over previous ones)

Currently reading: Richard Siken poetry

Current obsession: Hamilton, Supernatural

Tagging: @me-a-ham @a-dragon-with-books @sharkfish @kiranatrix @casmick-consequences @dean-sam-winchesterbros @spnsmile @spn-lesbian @spnheritageposts

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better.

Tagged by @seleneastra

Last song: I wanna be adored - The Stone Roses

Last movie: Saptapadi (1961)

Last show: Abbott Elementary S1 ( i was obsessed)

Currently watching: The Last of Us, Abbott Elementary S2

Currently reading: Maurice - E. M. Forster ( rewatched the movie recently and I had to check out the novel)

Current obsession: I've been obsessed with old Uttam Kumar movies recently, I mean you can't blame me, just look at the guy <3

Tagging: @beingdevipdf @deesi-academia @borah @rone-do-please @torivegafromindia @buckley-robin @little-wlw-froggie

[mylooz]

Happy New Year les Buddies. #happynewyear #spn #jaredpadalecki #winchesterbro #samwinchester #meme #2020 #endoftheyear #endoftheworld #spn_family #familybusiness https://www.instagram.com/p/B6wW7L6is3k/?igshid=1hy9vid8k2f61

[missdavonne]

Supernatural 15x19 Inherit the Earth

Finally free.

[aaronminier]

Inktober : Pattern : Sam and Dean Winchester

Inktober Day 10: Pattern.

Sam and Dean Winchester sporting their best plaid, about to bust a cap in something evil.

[khriztianleon]

Arte rápida de domingo de algo que sou fã; @cw_supernatural e @radiocomusic Não sei se alguém já fez ou pensou em fazer isto, mas faz tempo que estou adiando esta ideia e de hoje não ia passar! O conceito era simples; pegar a referência da capa do álbum do Rádio Company (banda do @jensenackles ) e reproduzir ela no melhor estilo Supernatural, com os irmãos Winchester e o contexto que se encaixasse neles (e que todo Hunter captasse bem) ... O resultado é este aqui e espero q todos curtam! E bora continuar por aqui :) Boa semana para todos! . . . . #SUPERNATURAL #SPN #RADIOCOMPANY #RADIOCo #WINCHESTERBROS #WINCHESTERBROTHERS #SPNART #SUPERNATURALART #DeanWinchester #SamWinchester #Hunters #Hunter #Winchester #JensenAckles #jaredpadalecki #ART #ARTE #POSTERART #COVERART #ARTOFTHEDAY #SOBRENATURAL #IMPALA #pentagram #DRAWING #DESENHO #THEROADSOFAR #ROAD #KhriztianLeon https://www.instagram.com/p/B_d1HLsHVd3/?igshid=1p02xg9kapsna

[incorrectspnforfun]

Sam: Has anyone seen my shirt? It’s a button-down, like a faded salmon? Dean: You mean your pink shirt? Sam: Faded salmon color. Dean: No, I haven’t seen your pink shirt. 

[xpandora88x]

Happy #SupernaturalDay! I've never been so invested in a TV series until 16-year-old me fell in love with two brothers who road trip across America "Saving people, hunting things, the family business." ❤️ I will forever love this show, the cast and crew, and the amazing friends I've made over the years because of this wonderful little horror show. 💕 I'm not ready to say farewell. 😥 #Thankyou #Supernatural for incredible #15SeasonsOfSPN #LoveYou #SPN #SPNFamily #SPNFamilyForever #SPNFandom #ProudFan #SupernaturalFinalSeason #SPNFinalSeason #SupernaturalNeverDies #JaredPadalecki #SamWinchester #JensenAckles #DeanWinchester #MishaCollins #Castiel #WinchesterBros #Winchesters #TheWinchesters #TheWinchestersBros #EricKripke https://www.instagram.com/p/CFGARQfpYIZ/?igshid=av69g16v0oa2

[gianahrain]

Castiel.

[carryonbananas]

Impala...SPN...Baby...Dean

[BABYS ENGINE ROARS]

"No no no no no no...she possesses sex toys."

"This is not a sex toy!"

Fans:

"Haha yeah right Dean, don't kid yourself, 'Baby is not a sex toy!'...😉"

S06X14 - Mannequin 3 The Reckoning

[harperandmary]

This is the worst news ever. This show meant everything to me and that fact that it’s going to end at the end of season 15 just breaks my heart. The whole cast and crew worked so hard on the show for the past 15 years. They have created a large family of people and I’m so proud of what they have accomplished. I wish these guys the best of luck in the future and I want to thank them for all the effort they put towards the #spnfamily. They have helped a lot of people in a variety of ways, through their campaigns, charity events and conventions. They went through a lot themselves and they always came out on top. Everyone is so proud of them and I’m gonna miss these guys. I will always love these guys. I have a lot of stuff that I want to say but I don’t have any words to express how I feel❤️❤️❤️